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jtargaryen18 · 4 years

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Pretty Baby

Part 2

Pairings:Robert Pronge aka Mr. Freezy (The Iceman) x Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: This is a dark story for me. Bad language, hitmen, assassination, death by cyanide poisoning. chloroform, kidnapping, non-con, general creepiness. For that reason, I’m not tagging on this one. Please read responsibly.

Summary: A mark’s daughter is in the wrong place at the right time for Mr. Freezy…He decides to keep her.

A special thanks to @imanuglywombat for the gorgeous moodboard for this. Thank you SO much! 💕💕💕

~~~

What had you done to deserve this?

Your heart thundered in your chest as you realized just what a bad turn your life had just taken.

Your mother had passed away at the end of your first year at the small women’s college in upstate New York. Your father introduced himself to you at her funeral. You had known of him but had never met him. You knew he’d sent money for you to your mother over the years.

When he’d told you that you could stay at his house for the summer, you’d taken him up on the offer. You thought it might be a way to get to know him, especially with your mother gone. It would also help with money so you could stay in school.

You’d been at your father’s house for maybe a week when you realized what a big mistake you’d made.

Your father was a drug dealer. Worse, he was a user too, so he was careless. The first night you’d had a spaghetti dinner he’d made and there had been some red flags in that first true conversation. Yeah. the house was worn down and your father had a rather crude sense of humor, but you hadn’t minded that. You’d give him a chance.

The hookers he’d had over that night? The two of them and your father had kept you up until four in the morning. You could only imagine what was going on because you hadn’t had sex at this point in your life. It had you thinking that maybe you should have just sucked it up, worked a couple of jobs, and lived in a crappy apartment for the summer like your friends.

You heard him talking in the next room, and it temporarily pulled you out of your memories, and your heart slammed in fear. Was he on the phone?

If you’d gone with your gut, maybe then you wouldn’t be handcuffed to a bed by the seriously scary man on the phone in the next room.

You’d managed to hide when the one man came to your house to use the phone. You’d been in the kitchen when your father grumbled about “some idiot who had broken down” on his street. Ironically, you were writing a letter for your father at the time. You were going to catch him out and leave the letter for him. You’d catch a bus and head back to the college.

When the knock on the door happened? Well, considering the hookers and shady types who had been in and out of your father’s house all week? You hid like a scared rabbit in the pantry with your notebook and pen.

Through the crack in the door, you saw the man. He was tall, a head taller than your father, with dark hair and colder eyes. You just knew he was there to kill him. You didn’t see how he did it. You just knew he was going to do it.

And he did.

You’d darted out of the pantry the minute the man left, checking your father for a pulse. There was none. But how he died wasn’t obvious. Your father hadn’t been shot or stabbed. His throat wasn’t slashed, his neck wasn’t broken.

You’d been terrified, wondering what to do. Did you call the police? And if you did and told them the truth, would whoever killed your father come after you?

Apparently, you sat there for a while because someone’s heavy tread thumped outside the kitchen door and you shot back into the pantry.

The second man? He came to collect your father. He was taller, younger, and hairy. His shoulders were wide, his arms heavily muscled. You’d watched in horror as he wrapped your father up in plastic and prepared to drag him away.

That was when the reality of the situation hit you. You had to get out of there. You had to get back to your friends. Tonight.

Only you never made it. No, you were in a strange house somewhere, you had no idea where. The man had knocked you out. Your right hand was handcuffed to the cheap brass headboard of the double bed you rested on.

The bedroom you were in was plain with off-white walls, dingy from neglect with cobwebs in the corners. No curtains hung on the windows and one of them was cracked. The shag run on the floor was worn and dirty. There was a small bedside table with rings stained onto its surface and a cheap lamp with a bare bulb and no shade on it for light.

Your heart leapt into your throat when the door to your room swung open and he walked in.

If I keep you, you going to be a good girl for me?

With your wrist chained to one bed post, your curled yourself into a ball next to it, watching as he walked around to your side of the bed, carrying the notebook you’d been writing in when your nightmare began.

The bed dipped when he sat down on the edge of the mattress at your feet. His eyes were blue behind those enormous wire-framed glasses, his face framed by long waves of dark hair. He wore a mutton chop beard. All of it combined to obscure his face. And it wasn’t an unattractive face if you looked closely.

You were afraid to look too closely. You were all too afraid you knew what he wanted and that you wouldn’t survive. You knew your only chance was to convince him to let you go.

Angling his shoulders toward you, they were broad, he grinned holding up the red notebook. The color flashed in your eyes like a warning.

“This yours?” he asked, his voice deep and raspy.

You swallowed hard, nodded.

Smirking, he opened the front cover and began to read.

“Dear Dad,” he began. “I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye. And I wanted to say thank you for offering me a place to stay this summer. But I decided it would probably be best for me to head back to the city, find a job for the summer, and study for the fall.”

Those intense eyes lifted from the page, his gaze locking with yours. You waited on him to say something, to do something. He just stared at you and your heart sped up, beating harder and faster.

When he went back to your letter, there wasn’t much left, you breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m glad we’ve had the chance to talk. If you’re ever in the city, I’d love to see you. Lots of love…” The man blew out an exhale before speaking your name.

Flipping through the pages of the notebook, he didn’t find anything else. At that point, he tossed the wire-bound book in the floor and regarded you carefully.

“You were just going to cut out on your old man,” he said baldly. “Is that it?”

“No.” Yes. Somehow you found your voice to speak. “I didn’t… want to be a… burden to him. And I do need to study...”

It sounded like a weak excuse, even to your own ears.

“Study, huh?” He scooted closer, his denim-covered thigh brushing the bottoms of your bare feet. “You have a boyfriend waiting or something?”

You shook your head quickly in denial. No. You’d been on a handful of dates, but no boyfriend.

“So you didn’t care how he felt about that?” he pressed on. “Doesn’t matter now. He’s dead. But I’m curious.”

Tears burned your eyes and you tried to blink them back.

“I barely knew him,” you explained. “I didn’t m-meet him until my mother’s funeral a few weeks ago.”

Dark brows rose in question above the frames of his glasses. “You’d never met him?”

You shook your head. “He sent money for me but…”

“What did you think when you met him?”

Why did this man want to know what you thought about your father?

“H-he was nice to me,” you offered.

“Nice, huh?” He shook his head, one hand sliding up to trace a finger along your instep. You jerked your foot away. “What did you think of the call girls he got high with each night?”

Despite your efforts, tears were beginning to spill from your eyes.

“It’s… was h-his business,” you told him. “It didn’t matter what I thought.”

His hand slid over your bare foot now, rough from hard work.

“You ever been around a drug dealer before?” he wanted to know. “A whore?”

You shook your head.

“But your mother had boyfriends, right?”

That hand massaged your foot, his fingers toying with your toes.

“No,” you replied. “We… we’re Catholic. He wouldn’t… sign the divorce papers. She was still married to him so she… she didn’t see anyone else. The church doesn’t allow it... It was just me and her.”

The man’s grin widened. He looked like the cat that ate the canary. With a firm grip on your ankle, he pulled your foot into his lap, playing with it.

“You’ve got… the cutest little feet,” he said idly. “Even toes, nice nails. Not many people have nice feet like these. Not even women.”

Leaning down, he brushed a wet kiss over the top of that foot, and you froze when his tongue touched your skin. It was unfamiliar enough that you were afraid to do anything about it.

“So, pretty baby,” he said in a teasing voice that just inspired more fear in you. “You didn’t really have a man in your life, did you?”

You shook your head. “It was just me and Mom. And she’s gone. If… if you let me go, I promise I won’t say anything to anyone. I don’t even have a lot of friends… I’ll just go back and…”

The amusement in his expression only increased. Lines formed around his eyes as he smiled.

“What did I tell you was gonna happen, huh?” Holding your ankle in one hand, the other slid up your calf to the back of your knee. “I’m going to keep you…” His fingers brushed the back of your knee and you jerked in his grip. “Never had a real good girl before.”

Leaning in closer, he made you feel crammed against the bedpost. “You’re a real good girl, aren’t you?”

Oh, God. You were afraid to answer that. But you couldn’t bear the way he was staring you down, so you nodded.

“You ever fucked before?”

You stared at him with wide eyes and he laughed which only heightened your anxiety. “That’s a no… You ever kissed anyone?”

That answer was likely obvious too and it only seemed to delight him.

“Never had a virgin,” he told you. “Even when I was one.”

With a firm grip on your leg, he pulled you closer to him. You bottom pressed to his hip now and tried to curl in on yourself. Your right arm pulled above your head in the handcuffs, the metal biting into your wrist.

“Mister, please,” you begged. “Please… let me go home.”

When you planted your left hand on his chest trying to hold him back, he grabbed that wrist and pressed it against the mattress next to your head. His other hand plucked his glasses off, tossing them into bedside table.

“I’m Robert,” he told you, his nose brushing yours as his heavy body pressed yours into the mattress. “You’re going to call me that. I’m not your Daddy…” His lips brushed yours, his tongue swiping your lower lip. “I’m not into that sir shit either…” Another kiss and it felt so odd with his mustache and beard against yours face. “A good little wife calls her husband by name.”

Good little wife?

You struggled to free your hands, but it did you little good. Robert held you easily.

With his free hand he reached under you to find the tab on your dress’s zipper and pulled it down. You muttered no against his lips, but it only gave him the opening to slide his tongue in your mouth. His kiss was deep, demanding but it didn’t hurt. You didn’t know how to return his kiss, so you let him take what he wanted, compliant until you felt his fingers working the hooks at the back of your bra.

You fought him then, trying to squirm away, trying to kick him. He chuckled as his lips moved across your face to your throat, his teeth nipping a little at the tender flesh he found there.

Just as quickly, he rose above you, grabbing the neckline of your dress and pulling it down along with your strapless bra. The spaghetti strap of your dress on your right side popped free, breaking since that arm was restrained.

You gyrated like crazy, doing everything you could to keep him from pulling it off with your hands out of play. It was all too easy for him. He was just too strong. When you were bare beneath him except for your sheer white panties, he made a growling sound as his greedy gaze roamed over you.

You were mortified. You couldn’t cover your breasts, you couldn’t hide anything with your hands caught and your lower body pinned under his weight.

“Look at you,” he whispered, his left hand skimming up your body with a delicacy you wouldn’t think he’d possess. He palmed a breast, gently squeezing it, testing its weight. “No scars. Sheltered life, huh?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t look at him. No one had ever seen you like this.

You cried out in surprise when you felt his mouth cover the same breast. Robert moaned as he pulled the little point of your nipple into his mouth, his tongue tracing circles all around it. The bristle of his beard scraped sensitive skin, making your shudder and burn in humiliation. He took his time, his greedy mouth working both of your breasts while weakly tried to free yourself, to mentally distance yourself from what was happening to you.

“Hey.”

“Ouch!”

Robert had pinched your thigh hard and it hurt. Your gaze met his and you saw those blue eyes lit up in anger.

“Eyes on me,” he told you meaningfully. He pressed his lips to your ribs just below one breast. “Your full attention on me. Or you’ll pay for it.”

Swallowing nervously, you watched in horror as he chained wet presses of his lips over your tummy, over your covered mound. Your entire body clenched up, but he kept going, brushing kisses down over your thighs to your knees.

What was he doing?

Trembling like a leaf below him, all you could do was watch as he made his way to your feet, pulling one up and pressing kisses over the top, down to your toes. When he sucked your toes into his mouth and you felt his tongue rolling around them, you started from the unfamiliar sensation. It was odd, it was uncomfortable and yet…

No. No, it doesn’t feel good. No.

Robert spent long moments teasing your foot with his mouth before slowly moving back up to your ankle, his tongue and facial hair a wicked tease that had you squirming more despite yourself. His lips trailed back up the inside your knee, your thigh. When he just pressed his face into your covered womanhood, you full-on trembled.

When he hooked a long finger around the crotch of your panties and pulled them out of the way, your entire body tensed. Using powerful arms to wedge himself between your thighs despite your struggles, Robert smirked up at you.

“Stop,” he sounded more annoyed than angry. “You’ll like this part… Unless you want me to go in dry.”

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. You knew what he meant to do. You couldn’t look. You couldn’t ---

Sharp pain at your thigh and you stared as you realized that he bit the tender flesh of your inner thigh.

“What did I say?” he demanded,

“I’m sorry,” you managed, your voice low and shaking.

“No, what the fuck did I tell you to do, huh?” he demanded even as a rough finger slid through your lower, intimate lips.

“To keep…m-my eyes on… you,” you recited.

“That’s right,” he muttered lowering his head and you watched him press his face into your private flesh, rubbing the tip of his nose along the center of your pleasure in a way that had you squirming in his hold.

When he pressed his mouth into you, the feel of his lips and tongue, the tickle of his hair over your thighs and tummy, had you shaking more, fighting to keep still. He moaned into you, a muffled sound and it sent a delicate vibration through your lower body, causing your heart to quicken.

When you felt the quick flutter of his tongue against the pearl that had only ever known your touch, your hips jerked. One heavy hand reached up and violently grabbed the top of your panties, ripping them off. It returned to press over your abdomen, holding you down. The fluttering continued, filling you with shame, making you feel restless and… A foreign craving built within you as he kept going, grinding his face into an embarrassing amount of wetness as his tongue kept moving in crazy fast patterns.

You expelled a puff of breath, twisting in his grip. Finally, you didn’t think you could take it anymore, you tried to push him away with your left hand. Pressing the heel to his forehead. Robert ignored you, his tongue sliding down to the tight entrance he meant to breach.

When the point of his tongue started darting in that entrance, you decided to try harder, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling, not hard enough to hurt you hoped but enough to get his attention.

Your heart clenched in hope when he stopped.

“Harder,” he muttered.

You just stared at him. Did you misunderstand?

“Pull harder,” he told you before diving back in, doubling his efforts.

And you did, but you were trying to get him to stop, to take his mouth off you. You pulled his hair, fought against his grip. Tears stung the backs of your eyes in humiliation because even as embarrassed as you were, you felt a delicate ache building, a sweet pressure that was taking your breath away.

You knew from masturbation what an orgasm felt like. Good as those solo performances were, the pleasure he was forcibly building within you was beyond anything you’d experienced so far. You didn’t want to enjoy it. You wanted him to stop.

Didn’t you?

When he started fucking you with his tongue determinedly, you were in tears, pulling at his hair so hard you were surprised it wasn’t coming out in your hands.

“Please,” you begged. “Please… stop.”

When you felt a rough finger push into your untried channel you sucked in a breath. You felt it sliding in and out of you, felt his tongue continue to flick against your clit.

“Please,” you pleaded.

“Gonna bring you off,” he muttered against you. “You’ll thank me later.”

“What?”

The pad of his finger found a space deep within you and brushed it. You froze.

“There?” he asked, his hot breath pelting your wet flesh as that finger curled, hitting that space again in a way that took your breath, had you crying out in the room as your body pulsed in a powerful wave of pleasure that you hadn’t asked for. He kept moving that finger, the movement subtle but devastating, and you tried to pull him bald, thrashing on the bed as he used his tongue to make it worse, to keep it going.

When the spasms died down and you were left panting on the bed, you watched as he sat up, swiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. He unbuttoned the striped shirt he wore, pulling it off to reveal his upper body, heavily muscled and his chest lightly covered with light brown hair. His breath came fast as he rose from the bed to shed his jeans and underwear, the entire time his heated gaze roamed over your body in greed.

Like the rest of him, his cock was big and it was swollen. You knew a moment’s panic. No way that was going to work. He saw where your attention went and took himself in hand, smooth strokes up and down. His grin was crooked and filled with ill intent.

“Time to get you opened up,” he told you, climbing over you on the bed.

Robert wasted no time in slotting himself between your thighs, lowering himself over you. You focused on your breathing. It was going to happen, and you could only imagine it would hurt worse if you fought him.

Breathe. In and out.

He was heavy and hot over you, positioning himself to spear into you with a firm hand. Instinctively, you parted your legs further, just hoping when this was over, he wasn’t going to kill you. If you could just live…

It stretched and burned as he pushed into you. When he reached your barrier, he lifted his gaze to yours. Some manic delight lit up his blue eyes.

“There it is,” he muttered. “Mine for the taking.”

Collaring both wrists in strong hands, he dropped more of his weight on you and then he pushed through the veil of your innocence fast and hard, pushing in to the hilt in one powerful thrust. You sucked in a breath at the pain, biting your lip until you tasted the coppery tint of your blood.

Robert was rotating his hips subtly, grinding into you slowly. When he spotted the blood on your lip, his mouth sealed over yours. His tongue tried to draw yours into his dance, but you still didn’t know the steps. You just held still, hoping it would be over soon. Hoping…

Breathe, in and out.

It was almost as if he moved in time with your breathing. The sting was horrible when he began to pull out of you and push back in. His body was taut above yours, muscles flexing as he worked over you.

“Fuck, you’re a tight little thing,” he told you, his dark hair hanging around his face as he fucked you. “Not… gonna be able to last long… Jesus…”

That’s what you wanted to hear. Almost done. Almost…

You kept your gaze on him, breathed. To your dismay, the pain faded, and you felt that same pressure start build in your core. You clenched around him, your legs came up to cradle his hips.

Robert grinned at you then. “That’s it. You’re getting the hang of it.”

Dropping his left hand, his fingers slid between you. Delicate strokes of his fingers on your clit – how was such a beast of man able to touch that lightly? – until you were right there on the edge, feeling like a bomb about to go off.

“Come on,” Robert leaned down to whisper hotly in your ear, teasing the shell of it with his tongue until you were trembling beneath him. His cock drove into you over and over and the wicked, teasing glide of his fingers were inescapable.

You screamed when you came and you knew he was saying something, cheering you on. But you were lost to the waves of pleasure the rough man above you was imposing. His thrusts came harder, the slight pain bringing you around.

With no warning, he lifted from you, pulling himself free of your channel and stroking himself hard and fast as his come spurted across your belly and thighs. You fought to breathe, keeping your eyes on him. You didn’t miss the blood that covered his cock, his hand.

When he was spent, he slumped on his knees above you, panting. You were afraid to move, just lying there with your heart flying, wondering in growing fear what happened to you now.

Robert reached over to grab his glasses and put them back on, suddenly fascinated with your private flesh and his own.

“You did bleed, didn’t you?” Impersonally, he swiped a finger through your folds, holding it up so you could see it was stained red. “You bled a lot.”

Am I going to bleed more? Are you going to kill me?

Grabbing his shirt from the floor, he used it to clean you up. Again, he was a lot more careful than you would have expected.

“Your shirt?” Wouldn’t your blood ruin it?

Robert shrugged. “What? I can get blood out of anything.”

That wasn’t something you wanted to hear.

Carefully, you pulled up a litte and he wasn’t stopping you. You weren’t able to reach your dress with your wrist cuffed to your distress.

As you watched, he reached for his jeans, pulling out a tiny pair of keys, He reached up and freed you from the handcuff. In the next instant, his hand was around your neck.

“Now, let’s get this out of the way,” he was nose to nose with you. “You live here now. You’re all mine. My little wife.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d used that phrase. You couldn’t begin to understand what was in his head. You did the safest thing you could think of and nodded.

“Until I have you trained, I’m going to keep you secured here in the house,” he explained with an undertone of menace in his voice. “I’ll be generous and give you a nice long leash.”

Leash?

“You ever try to sneak out,” Robert looked you dead in the eye, “or you try to get someone to help you, I’ll kill you. And I’ll kill whoever you pull into it. It’s what I do for a living, okay? I’m good at it… Don’t piss me off.”

You didn’t doubt him.

“Okay,” you muttered.

“Okay, what?”

Your mind scrambled but you finally realized what he wanted you to say, “Okay, Robert.”

That grin. His hand idly slapped your outer thigh.

“Good girl,” he said. “Get dressed. I’ll make us something to eat.”

He pulled on his jeans and sauntered out the bedroom.

Gingerly, you sat up, your lower body aching. You pulled your bra and dress back on. He’d ruined your panties. Stumbling through the room, you spotted the bathroom next door and locked yourself in there. You’d clean yourself up, pull yourself together.

My little wife.

You blew out a shaky exhale as you took a seat on the toilet lid.

On the sink, was a small vase with tiny white roses. Plucking one out, you held it in your shaking hand.

What were you going to do?

#30DaysofChris2020 #JTargaryen18's June Challenge #Pretty Baby #Robert Promge #Robert Prongay #Mr. Freezy #The Iceman #Dark fic #I'm going to hell for this one

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mrsdeanwinchester19 · 4 years

Text

Talk is Cheap

Written for @imanuglywombat 4k writing challenge

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: Bucky takes his wife on a second honeymoon after their first was cut short. During the trip, an unexpected visitor arrives

Type: Fluff with some scary parts

Warnings: Gun violence, mentions of holocaust, mentions of sex trafficking, like 1 swear word

Author’s Note: The story mentioned about a Holocaust victim is 100% true, I know the woman personally

Prompt: Mountain moodboard/ Talk is cheap by Nick Murphy; Talk is cheap my darling/ When you’re feeling right at home/ I wanna make you move with confidence/ I wanna be with you alone

Actions speak louder than words. It means jumping in front of a bullet, rather than just saying I would take a bullet for you. This is a lesson I learned the hard way, but ironically, it also turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.

My now ex-boyfriend David and I were at a bank on a regular day of the week, going to pull out some money out for a vacation fund. Five masked men came into the bank, armed and shouting for everyone to get down. I got on my knees slowly and put my hands behind my head as they instructed us to do.

One of the robbers walked up to the front counter and pointed his gun at the teller. “Open the vault,” he says in a low voice.

“I can’t sir. The vault can only be opened by a fingerprint scan and none of our fingerprints are registered in the system to open it. I’m only authorized to pull out $15,000 at once,” she replies, close to tears.

“Fine then, get to work on that, and you-“ he says, pointing his gun to a young man standing next to the coin counting machine, “There has to be an override code for the vault somewhere in the bank. Open all the offices for my men to look. Ares! Apollo! Go with him!” Two of the men follow the man to the offices in the upstairs half of the bank, both pointing their guns to his back.

While the teller was gathering as much money as she could, one of the men came over to my boyfriend and me. “Give me your phone and your wallet,” he says to me.

“I don’t have them,” I say honestly. “You can check if you don’t believe me.”

It’s then that I notice the emblem on his jacket. A red skull with six tentacles coming out of it. A symbol that always confused me, because a hydra has multiple heads, not tentacles like an octopus. It makes sense now why the leader called two of them the names of Greek gods, considering the hydra is from Greek mythology. However, as a historian and not a mythologist, it’s a symbol I learned about when we discussed Nazi Germany, where HYDRA got its start. This isn’t just regular HYDRA then, it’s their small elite force that robs banks to pay for their diabolical schemes. I let out an aggravated huff of breath when I realize who it is we’re dealing with, horrified that they’ve come back after Captain America took them down TWICE.

“Stand up,” he says. I slowly get to my feet. “Turn around.” I do as he says, a tear escaping my cheek as I realize he’s going to kill me, considering this is how many are executed when a socialist regime takes over a country. I interviewed a woman once who fled Poland when they were invaded by the Nazis, and she spoke of a time when she was in the woods picking berries and saw a group of Jewish people in front of a trench, and Nazis shot them into the trench one by one.

“And you, stand up,” he says, and from the corner of my eye, I see my boyfriend standing up as well. We look over at him and I can see the same fear reflected in his eyes, though they don’t tell him to turn around. “Lift her shirt up.”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion as I feel David’s hands grasp the hem of my red blouse and start slowing lifting it. He lifts it up to where my bra strap is on my back, before the man stops him. “Turn around again lady,” he instructs, before telling David to lift my shirt again. Now I understand what he’s doing, he’s checking to make sure I don’t have a phone, wallet, or gun hidden in the waistband of my pants. He lifts it up to just under my bra again, but the man motions for him to raise it a little higher. He brings it above my bra, showing my cleavage. I close my eyes in embarrassment.

“Women don’t actually keep money in their bras anymore,” I say bitterly once I’ve opened my eyes.

“Don’t get sassy with me miss. You can put her shirt down now.” He turns to my boyfriend. “Where’s your phone and wallet?”

David’s eyes flitter to mine for a brief second. “I don’t have mine either.”

“I don’t believe that,” he says venomously.

A new voice shouts, “Zeus, we found the manual key for the vault!”

They’re using code names, which means there’s a chance they’ll let us go, because we can’t identify their faces or give real names. However, once they get the money, there’s also a high chance that they kill all witnesses. Or, if the teller pressed a silent alarm and the police are already here, they could keep us as hostages for hours.

As the man pointing the gun at us is distracted by the person who found the key, David steps behind me, shoves me towards the man, and tries to run to the front door. The person sees movement, shoots blindly, and an intense pain bursts from my abdomen. I fall over, and the man shoots David in the back before he reaches the door.

I hear someone outside shout “Shots fired!” and the doors burst open. A familiar red, white, and blue shield comes through the door, followed by a suit of red and gold metal, and a man dressed in all black, a gun bigger than the robbers’ held by his metal arm. The robbers don’t shoot the other few people in the bank, considering Iron Man has miniature missiles on his shoulders aimed at each of them.

“They say third time’s a charm, maybe you’ll actually stay dead this time,” Captain America says.

“Mmmm, not your best work,” Iron Man says to him.

Captain America ignores him, “Put down your guns.” They put down their guns, but two of the men fall over. They must still keep poison pills in their teeth. The police run in and arrest the three men who didn’t kill themselves, while Captain America and Iron Man look at David to see if he’s alive. The man in black rushes over to me and puts his flesh hand on my wound, causing me to groan in pain. “She needs an ambulance!”

“You’re Bucky Barnes,” I say, recognizing him from my history classes.

“Yeah, I am,” he says, clearly surprised I recognized him.

“I’m a historian…with a concentration on World…War II,” I say through gasping breaths.

“Alright doll, just save your energy, you can’t go to sleep,” he replies gently, as if he’s soothing a small child.

“I always…knew…you were the good guy,” I say slowly before the world goes black.

“Almost done packing babe?” Bucky asks, peeking his head into our room.

“I just finished packing my clothes. Did you pack the weapon bag?” I ask. Some people think it’s weird that we bring a bag of weapons on vacations, but when your husband is an ex-assassin with 80+ years of enemies, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

“No, I told you this place is so safe we don’t even need guns,” he replies, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

I sigh, “Alright if you say so. I’m just happy we’re going on a relaxing vacation. You’ve had too many missions lately and my job has been stressful as well.” Columbia University asked museums in the area for a historian who could teach a class about World War II, and to apply for the job, we have to write a dissertation. Luckily, I have someone from World War II with me to answer any questions I have, but it’s taken up a lot of my time.

“Relaxing, but also exciting!”

“What?” I ask, exasperated. “Bucky I need time to lounge around on a beach or cuddle by a fireplace in a cabin or something. This is supposed to be our second honeymoon.”

Our first honeymoon had been to Belize. About halfway through our trip, duty called. We called the rest of the Avengers and spent the rest of our honeymoon breaking up a huge sex trafficking ring. We saved over 30 girls, and were happy about it, but our honeymoon was supposed to be our time to celebrate our marriage away from crime. And we love the team to pieces, but it was also our time to be away from them and the tower. They say bad guys don’t take days off, but I had at least hoped the world could survive without my husband for a while. I’m no agent or Avenger, but after Bucky and I started dating, he taught me over 100 different ways to defend myself, helped me train, taught me about guns and how to properly use them, and how to disarm a gunman within seconds. I was able to help destroy the sex trafficking ring by being bait, which was scary, but I trusted Bucky and the rest of the team to keep me from harm; and they did.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, doll. It’ll be relaxing during the day, but exciting at night because I have a bunch of new things I want to try in the bedroom,” he says, nibbling on my earlobe.

It tickles and I giggle. “You got some kinks you didn’t tell me about before we were married?” I ask jokingly.

He spins me around to face him before gently pushing me on the bed. “I didn’t want to scare you off before,” he says playfully, dropping onto me but not letting his full weight land on me. He grabs my wrists and pins them above my head. “Now that you’re legally bound to me, if you want to leave, it’s gonna cost ya.” I laugh and he flashes a brilliant smile. He leans his head down and starts kissing me deeply.

“Hey guys I-woah, sorry!” Steve’s voice says, panicked.

“Steve, you’re fine, Bucky’s just being silly. We’re decent!” I say, pushing Bucky off of me and sitting up.

He walks back into the room, face flushed from embarrassment. “Sorry, I just came to say that I filled your gas tank and took the liberty of putting your bags in the car, except that one,” he says, pointing to my duffel bag.

“Oh thank you Steve!” I say.

“Would you like me to take that one for you as well?”

Bucky replies before I do, “No, I’ve got it! You’re not the only gentlemen around here Steve. I can be chivalrous too, she’s my wife.”

Steve raises his hands in surrender, gives a small smile, and backs away.

“You didn’t have to be so sassy,” I say, lightly slapping his bicep.

“Steve always interrupts us right when things were about to get good,” he pouts.

“No, things were not about to get good. The door was wide open and we need to leave so we can get there before dark.”

“You are excited, aren’t you?” he asks rhetorically.

“I’m just happy you’re actually taking me on this second honeymoon.”

“I said I would!”

“I know, I’m just used to people saying they would do things and then not following through,” I say, thinking back to David, who was always making empty promises. I then compare it to Bucky, who has kept every promise he’s ever made me.

I sit mostly upright in my hospital bed, mindlessly flipping through channels. I stop Law and Order: SVU, but quickly change the channel when a character is shot. Baseball it is. There are two small taps on my door. “Come in,” I say.

A nurse walks in the door. “You have a visitor here to see you.” She walks back out the door, and Bucky Barnes takes her place.

“Hi,” I breathe out and a smile breaks out across my face. “What are you doing here?”

He frowns slightly, but then fixes his expression. “You were pretty out of it in the ambulance, but you regained consciousness for a little while. I told you I would come visit you in the hospital. I hope that’s ok. I brought you these,” he says, holding up a colorful bouquet of wildflowers.

“It’s completely ok, and thank you so much, that’s so sweet of you.”

“I figured you could use a little something to brighten the place up, but it looks like I’m not the only one who had the idea,” he says, gesturing to the three other bouquets that my family and my coworkers sent me.

He sets the vase down on the bedside table. I lean over a tiny bit take a deep breathe to try and smell them, since I can’t twist my torso over to them. However, once I do, I grab my neck and start gasping for air. His eyes widen with worry. “Sunflowers…allergic,” I spit out.

“Oh shit, I’ll go get a nurse!” he says, quickly standing up.

My gasping turns to laughing, and he stops, turning around. “I was kidding. You should’ve seen your face,” I say. I begin laughing harder when he pouts, but immediately regret it. “OW!” I put a pillow over my stomach to keep a little pressure on the wound.

He lets out an exaggerated sigh and rolls his eyes, but is smiling. “At least you have a sense of humor.”

“They say laughter is the best medicine, though maybe that isn’t true when you have a GSW on your abdomen.”

“You’re just lucky it didn’t hit any major organs. How long is your sentence?” he asks.

“If this is jail, it’s a pretty nice one. And they said at least two weeks, but it might go longer. If it had hit major organs, they said it would’ve been 5 weeks, if not more.” He hums in agreement but doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “Hey, if I ask you this, will you be honest with me? Everybody around me has been walking on eggshells and avoiding answering this question, so I can probably guess what the answer is.”

He looks apprehensive but says, “I can try. What’s up?”

“My boyfriend, David, is he dead?”

Bucky looks around uncomfortably, “Look, I don’t know if I’m the right person to ask this to…”

“If you’re worried you’ll break my heart with the news, don’t be. Because whether he’s alive or dead, the relationship is over.”

“Why do you say that?” he asks, eyes narrowed in both suspicion and confusion.

“Because he’s the reason I’m in this hospital bed. He pushed me towards the shooter so he could run away. He’s a coward. So if he is dead, then whatever. I know it’s poor to speak ill of the deceased, but he did try to sacrifice me to save himself. And if he’s alive, it’s over. He showed his true colors.”

He doesn’t speak for a few seconds. Probably trying to figure out how to best phrase it, or find out if I actually mean what I said. He very quietly says, “He didn’t make it. The bullet hit his right lung and it collapsed; they weren’t able to save him. He went through 3 hours of surgery before his heart gave out.”

“Thank you,” I say.

“For what?”

“Being honest with me. I’m a little tougher than people give me credit for.”

A small smile creeps onto his face. “I’m sure you are.”

“Talk is cheap, my darling. Anyone can say something and not mean it. My ma taught me never to break promises if I can help it,” Bucky says.

“Your mom sounds like a lovely lady,” I say, giving his cheek a kiss. “I wish I could have met her. I wish I could’ve met your father too. And your siblings.”

“Steve is just as much my brother as my actual siblings were, so at least you met one family member of mine. But my folks woulda loved you. Ma would be happy to see I finally settled down with an amazing woman, and maybe a baby on the way soon?” he asks hopefully.

“Buck, I told you I want to wait until two years after we got married, then I’ll pop out as many babies as you want, as long as that number isn’t over 5. 5 is the absolute most I would have.”

“I think 3 would be good. But I still want to get started as soon as possible!”

“Ugh, Bucky, what am I gonna do with you?” I rhetorically ask, laughing.

“I could make a list,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “But c’mon doll, I’m not getting any younger here!”

“Oh please, you’re over 100. I think you can wait one more year. They say waiting two years is good for your marriage when the stress from babies comes because then you have more happy times to look back on.”

“Oh screw the studies,” he says, sitting on the bed. He lightly grabs my hips and pulls me to stand between his legs. “My parents got married and nine months later I popped out, and they were still married when I went to war. It doesn’t matter how long you wait before having kids, it’s the people. You gotta be willing to work through the hard times.”

“And you know I am,” I say, running my fingers through his hair. “But we should get going. We can continue this conversation when we’re back. I want to be alone with you.”

--------------------

“Ok, this text from Steve says the key is hidden in the bear’s mouth,” Bucky says. He grabs my hand and we walk up to the plain but nice cabin. It’s sunset, so it isn’t quite dark out, but there’s not enough light to be outside. There’s a small statue of a bear sitting on a stump on the front porch that says WELCOME. Bucky reaches in the bears slightly open mouth and pulls out a key. “That’s deeper than it looks.”

He unlocks the front door and I’m about to walk in but he stops me. “What? Tony said the place wasn’t booby trapped,” I say. This is Tony’s cabin, but Steve acted as a mediator between Bucky and Tony. Tony allows him on the team and to live in the tower, but he won’t go out of his way to talk to him. Cordial but not friendly.

“No it’s not that.” He suddenly picks me up bridal style. “Gotta carry my wife across the threshold.”

“Oh please Bucky, that’s for when you move into your first house together, not a honeymoon redo.”

“I don’t care, I’m gonna do it anyways,” he says.

“You’re ridiculous,” I say as he sets me down inside. As he shuts the door, I look around. An open concept downstairs area with a high end kitchen. The living room has a vaulted ceiling and an enormous fireplace. At the end of the living room there’s a staircase that leads to what I’m assuming is the bedrooms.

“So should we unpack tonight or wait until tomorrow and just go to bed?” Bucky asks.

“Bed? But I’m not tir-oh,” I say when I see him giving me a suggestive look, biting his lip. “You know what, let’s go to bed.” He picks me up and starts running towards the master bedroom.

--------------------

A loud bang wakes me from my sleep. I lift my head, listening, and am about to go back to bed, thinking I imagined it when I hear the sound of glass shattering. Is someone breaking in? I sit up, holding the blanket to my bare chest and listen more. It’s silent for a few seconds but then thumps like footsteps are heard. “Bucky,” I say, nudging my husband’s arm. He grunts in response. “Bucky!” I say, shaking his arm harder.

“Go back t’sleep,” he mumbles. I grab my pillow and slam it on his face. He wakes up immediately. “What?” he asks, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“I think someone’s in the house,” I whisper.

“Babe, it’s probably just house settling noises. Let’s cuddle until we fall back asleep,” he says, laying down and grabbing my waist in an attempt to pull me back down to the bed too, but I resist. The distinct sound of a frying pan being dropped on the door makes him shoot up in bed. “Ok, nevermind, those aren’t house settling noises. You stay here, I’ll go check it out.” He climbs out of bed and grabs his joggers off the floor. He quietly steps into those before going over to his nightstand and grabbing a knife. He flips it in his hand before gripping it tightly.

“I thought you said no weapons,” I whisper.

“I said no guns, not no weapons. Plus, this was already here; I left it here when Steve and I went on our fishing trip.”

As he walks out, I grab his t-shirt and my underwear and throw them on just in case we have to run. I nervously clutch the sheets as I wait for Bucky to come back. After about 15 seconds, the door noiselessly opens and Bucky walks through, looking oddly calm. He shuts the door behind him. “Y/N, call 911.”

I grab my phone from the nightstand and quickly dial 911. As I do that, Bucky grabs an armchair and puts it in front of the door.

“911 what’s your emergency?”

Bucky pulls the phone from my ear because he didn’t tell me what’s wrong. He starts speaking quietly. “Hi, we’re in the Stark cabin out on 360th street. There’s bears in our kitchen.”

Are you serious I mouth at him. He nods his head. I can hear the woman on the phone tell us to stay in our bedroom, stay quiet, and that officers will be right out. He thanks her and hangs up. He gently sets the phone down on the nightstand and sits down in front of me on the bed, facing away, blocking me in case the bear breaks into our room. I wrap my arms around his bare waist and set my chin on his shoulder. “How many bears are there?”

“Three. There were two cubs pulling things out of the cabinets and I was planning to just scare them away when I saw momma bear coming through the door. I came back up here after I saw her, and I’m not about to knife fight a bear. I must not have closed the door fully when we got here.”

“You promised this trip would be safe, you broke your first promise.”

He turns around and gives me a disbelieving look. I shrug my shoulders and then give him a small smile so he knows I was just joking around. I lift my hands from his flat stomach up to his shoulders. “Bucky you’re really tense,” I say quietly.

“Because there’s a family of bears downstairs!” he harshly whispers.

“But the police are on their way, they’ll take care of it. They probably deal with this kind of stuff all the time.” I begin rubbing his shoulders and he relaxes a little, but just barely.

After about 10 minutes, and more sounds of things breaking, we can see red and blue flashing lights coming from the window, but no siren. They probably didn’t turn it on so the bears wouldn’t get agitated. There are three distinct thuds heard. A few minutes pass and someone calls out “You guys can come out!”

“I’ll go talk to them, you stay here, you’re not dressed and we left out bags in the car.” He walks out the door and I can hear him greet the officer. I decide I want to see what’s going on, so I grab a throw blanket and wrap it around myself before following Bucky. He turns around when he hears me coming down the stairs and holds out his hand for me like Jack on the Titanic. I grab his hand so I don’t trip over the blanket.

I look around and see the entire downstairs in disarray. The couch that probably cost my entire salary is shredded with stuffing hanging out everywhere and a broken lamp next to it. Glasses are broken on the kitchen floor and pots have been pulled out of the cabinets. The fridge door is open and food is littered on the floor around it. Chairs are turned over and the hardwood floors are scratched up. I look outside and see all three bears in cages.

The officer is explaining what happened. “When we arrived and shot the momma bear with a tranq dart, the baby bears freaked out and started tearing up the sofa. We got them as quick as we could so that they didn’t destroy even more things. They’ll be relocated and hopefully won’t come back to this house.”

“Thank you, officer,” Bucky says. The officer bows his head and leaves.

We silently look around for a moment before I say, “Tony’s gonna kill us.”

“Yep.”

“Well, you were right, this trip is exciting at night!”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #avengers #imagine #vacation #winter soldier #white wolf #steve rogers #ironman #captain america #tony stark #writing challenge #fluff #uglywombat4kchallenge

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dangertoozmanykids101 · 4 years

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Tooz's Game: What's the weirdest thing you've typed in the search bar today?

youtube

I laughed my fucking ass off at this video!!!

The first thing i was going to say was that o know this has nothing to do with our fandom but then I had an idea. What type of questions would members of our community ask, and how would he react??? LOL

The topic of "what if people saw my search history" has been on my mind lately..... maybe because Beauty in the Blood fic I've been reading? Suspense Thriller author is paired up with serial killer via dating service based on your google searches. (Super fun fic, by the way!)

So.....

What's the weirdest thing you've typed into the search bar today? (Or whenever. )

Tonight hubby and I discussing if he's claustrophobic, but he said it's just fear of suffocating. So of course i had to ask if he's heard about the vacuum latex stuff?

And of course, I HAD TO DO AN IMAGE SEARCH! Wouldn't you?

Although I do find it all so interesting! I love how wild people are!! :-) And I freely admit I've loved catsuits since i watched Julie Newmar as Catwoman in reruns as a kid. And the creepiness and alien look of gas masks and plague masks is such an intriguing look! And as one of those sensory people who loves to be wrapped up tight, or with layers and layers of heavy blankets especially loaded on top if my legs and feet... ( I should totally get one of those weighted blankets) - i wonder if I'd appreciate the tightness? Probably would depend if I wanted to sweat? Hmmmmm....

But they sure have some interesting fiction that goes along with some of the DeviantArt stuff. And off onto further tangents, hours LOST, dissapated into thin air.

Although as soon as kids started to wander around the kitchen looking for food....

What did YOU search for today?

@writernotwaiting @evieplease @winterisakiller @caffiend-queen @nildespirandum @just-the-hiddles @yespolkadotkitty @pedeka @hopelessromanticspoonie @devikafernando @alexakeyloveloki @maiden-of-asgard @lokilickedme @nuggsmumwriting @tinchentitri @myoxisbroken @imanuglywombat @bellesque @reine-sigyn @wickednerdery @lettalady @wordynerdygurl @nikki-writes-stuff @emeraldrosequartz @latent-thoughts @fadingcoast @tarithenurse @ladyfluff @ladyoftheteaandblood @villainousshakespeare @vodka-and-some-sass @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @lokispettigerr @ohhhmyloki @archy3001 @hallotom @kalimav6 @wolfsmom1 @saiansha @tilltheendwilliwrite @lolawashere @nrthmnsplbnd9 @muchobsessedwithpretty06 @missinstantgratification

Of course i know where to pick up where i left off. *wink.

Actually there was a fantastic short one short creepy story I found somewhere.... Ohhhh, it was magnificent! Scary creepy, with a strong Tell Tale Heart feel to it. :-) I should find that again.

#Youtube

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nickysurfer28 · 4 years

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Note: I’m not sure if I missed a paragraph in the beginning of this part. Forgive me I was copying and pasting this so...I may lost a small section in the story I’m not sure.

Summary: when Nicky and Chris open up to each other a strange dream befalls her...

Word count: over 1k

Warning ⚠️: 18+ only ; smut, oral, sex.

Characters:Dr.Nicky Ransom x Chris Evans, Judith, Denise Ames (cousin), Tim

Chapter 9:

when you and Chris open up to each other strange dream befalls you . Stranger still is the desire that consumes you, and the sense of great danger. I think I’m ...falling for him. It’s early still, but I’m falling hard. It’s scary. But also kind of exciting.

The song ends. You stop dancing it remain in each other’s arms, each loathe to ruin the moment.

It’s so late, though. I should get going.

You open your mouth to say as much, but yawn comes out instead.

“Sorry. It’s way past my bedtime.” Nicky answered.

As if your body has suddenly remembered what time it is, you sway where you stand, and Chris guides you back into your chair.

“Maybe you should get some sleep.” Chris answered.

And as determined as you’d just been to head home, your body seems to want nothing more. You yawn again, struggling in vain to keep your eyes open.

“Mmm. Maybe. Just for a few minutes.” Nicky answered.

*dream sequence *

You’re vaguely aware of a blanket draped over you,and then you’re out.

You wake shortly to a beautiful room. You’re greeted at once by Judith,Denise, and Tim in their best formal attire.

“Nicky! Oh, we’d so hoped you could make it this evening!” Judith answered.

“We were terribly worried you wouldn’t be able to attend. Weren’t we,dearest?” Denise answered.

“Terribly worried. But here you are!” Tim answered.

“Forgive my lateness. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”Nicky answered.

I should remark upon..the beauty of the ballroom.

“I’ve never seen such a lovely ballroom.” Nicky answered.

“Isn’t it just divine?” Denise answered.

A hush false over the room as the crowd parts to admit a newcomer in a golden mask.

Your eyes meet, and he smiles. His progress across the polished floor is impeded by a guest in a garishly bright gown. You blush as he lifts your hand to his lips.

I should greet him...politely.

You bow your head graciously.

“Good evening, sir.” Nicky answered.

He looks pleased with you.

“Good evening, Miss Ransom. I believe I’ve been promised this dance.” Ball guest answered.

He inclines his head toward a small card attached to your wrist by a fine ribbon.

Upon each line is written the same name, it’s letters unintelligible. You frown.

“Is this...a prank?” Nicky answered in shock.

“Not at all.” Ball guest answered.

He takes your hand, leading you onto the dance floor. A girl calls out to you...

“Oh,Miss Ransom! Miss Ransom, don’t you know what he is?” Ball guest/ girl answered.

...but you pay her no mind as the gentleman pulls you into his arms.

“I fear you forget yourself, sir. This is far closer than decency permits.” Nicky answered.

“Then shall we be daring, Nicky, and fly in the face of convention?” Ball guest answered.

The familiar words strike a chord within you, and it’s as though a veil is lifted from your eyes.

“...Chris?” Nicky answered.

And, just like that, the mask from his face disappears. Realization dawns on you.

The ballroom dissolves, melting into Chris’s study.

It’s looks so real,but...I know I’m still dreaming. I know I am.

“Chris!” Nicky answered.

“You...recognize me? That’s impossible.” Chris answered in shock.

“No it isn’t! I’m obviously dreaming about you because...I just saw you.”Nicky answered. “I fell asleep while we were talking. It makes perfect sense! I’m just surprised you’re you this time and not some ethereal dream creature!”

“Wait,Nicky. You shouldn’t be able to-“ Chris answered in shock.

“Back to the ball!” Nicky answered.

You shift the dream back to the ballroom.

“This is seriously the coolest! Come on, Chris, dance with me!” Nicky answered.

“I-“ Chris answered.

You pull him into a waltz before he can finish.

“Ooh, I bet we could float if we wanted!” Nicky answered.

You focus your mind, and the two of you begin to levitate. You laugh out loud in victory.

“It’s nice to dream again.” Nicky answered.

And, possibly despite himself, your dream Chris laughs.

“You are a unique woman, Nicky Ransom.” Chris answered.

“And you don’t you forget it, you sexy figment of my imagination.” Nicky answered.

Hmm. The only thing that could make this moment better would be...make out with Chris while we’re dancing. I might not be gutsy enough to be so bold with the real Chris, but in my dream one? Where’s the harm?

You seize Chris’s face and pull him into a searing kiss. He seems momentarily stunned, but soon returns the kiss with gusto. You moan loudly as his tongue plunders your mouth.

“Chris...”Nicky answered softly.

You tug him closer, pressing your body fully against him. You feel him growing hard against you, and reach down to palm his erection.

“Nicky...”Chris answered softly.

You giggle, feeling elated.

“This is amazing.” Nicky answered.

You bring the pair of you down to the floor, where the rest of the guests look on, scandalized by your indecent display. A delicious thrill courses through you.

“Nicky. Come with me.” Chris answered.

He grabs your hand, pulling you into a dark hallway away from the crowd and into a nearby hall. In no time, he presses you against the wall, kissing you deeply.

Chris... well, kind of. But the real Chris never has to know.

“Oh, Nicky...”Chris answered softly.

You kiss him hard, pouring all your frustrated lust behind it. He moans.

“Nicky...”Chris answered.

He seizes you’re hand once more, tugging you into the fire lit study and locking the door. Your heart beats thunderously in your chest as he fixes blazing blue eyes upon you.

“Are you nervous,Nicky?” Chris answered softly.

“Why would I be? You wouldn’t harm me. Not in a million years. But I bet you’d like to do something else to me.” Nicky answered.

He kneels on the ground before you, grinning saucily as he hitches up your skirt. Your cheeks heat as he pushes your thighs apart.

“I’m hungry, Nicky. Won’t you have mercy on me?” Chris answered.

You spread your legs wider, arching an eyebrow.

“When you put it like that, how could a lady refuse?” Nicky answered.

He sighs delightedly, burying his face between your thighs. The slick strokes of his tongue spark fire in your veins.

“Oh!” Nicky squealed.

“Mmmh..”Chris answers.

You sink your fingers into his hair, rocking your hips against his face...and scowling when he brings you to the brink of orgasm twice, only to stop just shy of pushing you over the edge.

He’s a little willful for a figment of my imagination...

“Stop teasing me.” Nicky answered.

You tighten your grip on his hair and tug him on top of you, and vanishing the clothing between you with a thought.

“I don’t have all night, Chris.” Nicky answered.

He smirks , pulling you in for another searing hot kiss. Then you feel it. You feel like something is being pulled from you with every kiss, with every touch. It’s almost as if you feel tired.

“And what do you want,Nicky ?” Chris answered.

“I want...You. Inside me. Now.” Nicky answered.

“As you wish.” Chris answered.

You don’t need to tell him twice.

He pushes past you with ease, and begins pumping himself in and out of your wet center. He thrust into you and you gasp, your nails scrubbing at his shoulders for purchase.

“Chris...” Nicky answered softly.

“God,Nicky..” Chris answered.

You arch your hips to meet him, and as each thrust rocks your body, it feels as though so,etching innate is being drawn from you.

It’s so good.

“Don’t stop...”Nicky answers.

With each thrust, he takes you higher and higher. Until, finally, you come undone in his arms.

“Ah...” Nicky answers.

However, quick as lightning, you begin to feel tired again. Like your energy is being drawn from you.

“Nicky, I- “ Chris answered.

Chris still abruptly, a look of sadness coming across his face.

“I can’t do this.” Chris answered sadly.

You reach for him as he withdraws, but your fingers close on empty air.

*end of dream sequence *

@denisemarieangelina @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @waywardodysseys @daliaevans @pine-fresh-kirk @mizcaptainphoenix @deidrashouseofpain @littlefiercequeen @chris-butt @kailyndavillier @katiew1973 @kellyn1604 @kelbabyblue @wintrcaptn @captainchrisstan @worksby-d @nomadevans82 @captaincrazyexlover @thatsxamericasxass @americasass91 @amazonx @artemisrogersbarnes @artisticrogers1972 @bellaireland1981 @brilliantkey @jms358 @denissjmaddox @jtargaryen18 @patzammit @et-lesailes @whiskey-cokenfanfic @what-is-your-plan-today @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @imanuglywombat @star-spangled-beard-burn @shotsbyshae @shellbilee @shortacouplebuckys @shadowcatsworld @comebackandhauntme21 @nbarnes @thinkxlovexloud @lovinevans @luvinchris @dreamxlovexdo @royallyprincesslilly @princess-evans-addict @captain-rogers-beard @enigma2112 @gothamlovr91

#reblog #chris evans #princeofdreams chrisevansfanfic #fanfiction chrisevansxreaderfanfic

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joannaliceevans-fanficblog · 5 years

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Daddy, there is a scary dinosaur!

Disclaimer: Okay, I told myself... that I was going to take a week off of, writing. HA, well that didn’t work. I got this idea, yesterday at work. So, here is a short little drabble for you all! (yes... hopefully... this weekend I will start working on the last of the One-Shot Minis, start Chapter 6, and also start my new chappy series) Summary: Chris’s daughter Emmy, has a nightmare. Chris/She= the reader (putting ‘you’ was getting confusing), Emmy Evans

“Daddy…?” Chris heard. Unhooking his arm from his wife, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and turned over to his other side.

“Daddy…?” “He heard again. Turning on the lights, he looked down at his 4-year old Emmy. Her face was tear-stained and was clinging on to her favorite pink teddy bear.

“What’s wrong pumpkin?” Chris asked.

“I haves a bad dream. A big, scary dinosaur and it was under my bed!” Emmy said, crying even more. His heart started breaking, as Emmy cried…even more. Sighing, Chris grabbed a tissue and wiped away, her tears. Bending down, Chris scooped her up into his arms. Then, walking out of the bedroom, Chris walked back to Emmy's room. Turning on the lights, Chris went to her bed and placed her down.

“Now, is the scary dinosaur… under the bed?” Chris asked, his daughter. Emmy hugged her teddy bear tightly and nodded her head. Smiling, Chris bent down to her bed and looked underneath. Then, looking back up… towards his daughter.

“Pumpkin, the scary dinosaur is gone. He must have realized that Captain America was coming, to save his little girl!” Chris said, taking a seat next to her. Emmy looked at her dad and smiled.

“So, there is no scarier dinosaur?” Emmy asked, with hope in her voice. Smiling, Chris bent down and kissed the top of her head.

“Nope, Captain America and I scared him away,” Chris said, tucking strands of hair, behind her ear.

“Daddy, can you read me a story?” Emmy said. “Want, to me read you a story pumpkin?” Chris asked. Emmy smiled and nodded.

“Daddy, can we read the 3 beaws?” Emmy asked her dad, “Sure, we can.” Chris said, as he turned and grabbed the book next to him. He opened the book and placed an arm around her.

“Okay, The Three Bears and Mrs. Goldilocks,” Chris said…

10 minutes later…

“And the three bears, waved- “Chris started. Hearing his daughter… lightly snoring he closed the book and tucked her in.

“Now, no more scary dinosaurs pumpkin.” He said, getting up from the bed. Then bending down and kissed her forehead.

Walking out from her room, he closed the door behind him. As he walked back to the bedroom, his wife appeared at the end of the hallway.

“Babe, why are you up?” Chris asked, walking up to her. She smiled and reached out for him.

“Is, everything okay?” You asked. Chris smiled and took her hand… into his.

“Everything is fine, she just had a bad dream,” Chris told her and lead her back to their bedroom. Both getting inside the covers, Chris wrapped his arms around her.

“You know, Emmy missed you today. Why don’t you spend time with her, after school?” She asked as he pulls you closer. Chris smiled and kissed her shoulder.

“I think, I will like that.”

Tagged: @shellbilee @imanuglywombat @jennmurawski13 @thegetawaywriter

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caffiend-queen · 2 years

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Masterlist: Caffiend’s Spooky As Fuck Halloween Recommendation Masterlist

Thirty-one days of Halloween horrors (and whores, I’m looking at you, Ransom!) completed! Please show our Tumblr besties the love they deserve for their hard work!

I’m gathering all my favorite spooky, sexy Halloween reads from my favorite authors here on Tumblr and AO3. All the really genius ones! In one super tasty bundle. Who loves you? Who’s your spooky Mama? Read on for Dark Loki, Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Vampire!Loki, Cult Leader Steve Rogers, Incubus!Loki, the Winter Soldier and more.

1. Rapacity - Vampire Loki

@nildespirandum‘s genius Vampire Loki tale, sexy, scary, angsty as fuck.

2. Danse Macabre - Scary Prophet Bucky Barnes

@imanuglywombat’s terrifying and sexy Bucky and he’s not wearing anything under that robe...

3. Run Like Hell - relentless Winter Soldier

@navybrat817′s terrifying and sexy Winter Soldier tell you to run. DO IT.

4. Come One, Come All. - Dark, terrifying Loki

@lokislastlove sexy, terrifying Funhouse Loki, but it’s not fun for anyone IN his Funhouse. Except for you.

5. Proserpina - Dark, Old God Steve Rogers

@boxofbonesfic and a terrifying descent into an underground prison.

6. Glory, Amen - Old One Steve Rogers

@punemy-spotted and another terrifying descent into Old Ones best forgotten.

7. Destiny - Dark, Sexy, Sadistic Loki

@mdemontespan1667′s sexy, scary Loki. And spiders.

8. 30 Days of Debauchery - kinky sexy as fuck Lokl

@myoxisbroken’s excellent “kink a day” masterpiece

9. Rose Red All Hallow’s Eve - gritty Curtis Everett

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork’s scary-ass ride with Curtis Everett.

10. A Hex of Infinite Binding - Incubus Loki

@nildespirandum’s sexy as fuck Incubus Loki. In black. Leather. Pants.

11. One, or the Other - Sir Thomas Sharpe and Vampire Adam, OLLA

@caffiend-queen’s filthy musing of one or both of these men impregnating you.

12. Silver Exposure - Dystopian Avengers featuring Pitch Black Steve and Charcoal Grey Bucky.

@xsapphirescrollsx and her terrifying and extremely vivid tale of what happens when you fuck with time travel.

13. One Fateful Christmas - Andy Barber wants you and He Is Deeply Displeased. Also, a blizzard.

@americasass81 and her jolly little Christmas nightmare (dream come true depending on your point of view.)

14. Made For Me - Spine-tingling terror when you realize the life you planned was not the one you were going to get. Mitigating factor: lots of sex with Bucky.

@saiyanprincessswanie’s tasty, terrifying tale.

15. Honey Trap - Sweet, sexy beekeeper Steve Rogers isn’t the sweet guy everything in your little town thinks he is...

@threeminutesoflife’s dark and deliciously twisted Steve. And a toaster.

16. A Summoning From The Depths - An Incubus!Loki Story

@nildespirandum’s Kinktober offering for Incubus!Loki and Witch Nora. With bonus cloven hooves goodness.

17. Dark Commander - Scary-ass Hydra Captain America

@jtargaryen18′s brilliant tale of who Hydra’s vision of Captain America would be

18. I Dream at Night I Can Only See Your Face Roomate!Bucky Barnes

@thedarkplume’s dark, tasty tale of cupcakes and unrequited love. Be careful what you ask for...

19. Next Station - dark, ruthless Loki

@the-soulofdevil a different retelling of what should have happened with Loki on Lamentis.

20. Monstrous - deranged Vampire Loki

@maiden-of-asgard’s terrifying, half-mad Vampire Loki and the Light Elf imprisoned with him.

21. Can’t Run, Can’t Hide - terrifying Mafia!Bucky

@angrythingstarlight’s dark and sexy tale of what happens when you think you can leave Mafia Bucky.

22. Concrete Jungle Rapunzel - insidious, dark Bucky

@imanuglywombat’s stark, heartbreaking tale of what it’s like to be loved too much.

23. Landlocked - Dark Andy Barber and a Selkie

@tonarinotogepi’s tale of what happens when Dark Andy Barber captures a Selkie

24, To Love and To Hold - Sheriff Lee Bodecker and his sweet wife

@sagechanoafterdark How long can you be married to a monster like Lee Bodecker before his evil sinks into you?

25. Scare Tactics - Delicious Chris Evans distracting you.

Chris Evans, you, a spooky movie and his spectacular sexytime skills, courtesy of @jennmurawski13

26. Wilfords Demands and other Darkish!Curtis fics

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork’s sexy, scary tales of Gladiator, Impregnator Curtis Everett.

27. The Cult - Cult Leader Steve and too-trusting Bucky

@queenoftheworldisdead’s spooky tale of Cult Leader Steve wanting something Bucky has... his new wife.

28. Murder, He Wrote - sinister as fuck Ransom Drysdale

@what-is-your-plan-today’s terrifying tale of a celebrity haunted mansion and the reporter sent to cover it.

29. Perfection - emotionally torn and hot as balls Sir William Sharpe

@nildespirandum’s epic tale of pain, longing, loss, genuine terror and the power of love.

30. Wet - shamelessly delicious Jonathan Pine

@devikafernando’s decisive and shameless Jonathan Pine knows exactly how to get you wet.

31. Pain - pitch black Loki

Minnie Rose shows just how angry Loki can be after escaping the clutches of Thanos. And you’re right there to lavish the wildly complicated upon your helpless body.

#Caffiend's Supremely Spooky As Fuck Halloween Reading #Halloween scary sexy story suggestions #Dark Loki #Vampire Loki #Winter Soldier #AU Dark Bucky Barnes #Old God Steve Rogers

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