#Metal Burlesque | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cyberrose2001 · 1 year

Note

Hi!!! I love your works! 🥰 I was wondering if I could request a Tfp bots (Op/wheelJack/knockout) reaction to their s/o who is very sweet and shy normally who’s in uni but what they don’t know is that she’s a stripper/exotic dancer late night to pay her tuition and they see her perform and later they make her do a performance for them only and gets smutty 😏😳🤭 sorry if it doesn’t make sense my English isn’t the best 😭 (also totally not projecting at all I am a pole dancer to pay for uni and damn well I treat myself well hehe, if you ever do commissions I’ll be ready 🤣)

TFP Optimus, Wheeljack, Knockout w/ Stripper Reader

I'm so sorry that this took forever! My brain may be fried but this was still so fun to write! I'm sorry if I got some things wrong, I'm still learning how to translate choreography into words (and I know very little about being a stripper oop).

As much as I wanted these to be short, my fingers slipped and I wrote whole ass fics for each of them. So be warned, this post is VERY long! I hope you enjoy! <3

18 + ONLY MINORS DO NOT READ

Warnings: Stripper reader, mentions of alcohol use, small mention of blood, smut/valveplug, blow jobs, sticky sexual interfacing.

Word count (combined): 5,981

Optimus

Was this a bad idea? Maybe, but you'll worry about the consequences in the future. For now, you slowly approach a mass-displaced Optimus Prime sitting on a metal stool that is still far too small for his frame, who still towers over your body by a solid two feet. He's watching every step you take in every click-clack of your six-inch pleaser heels. The small portable speaker you set up begins to play a bassy remix of 'Dirrty' and 'Talk Dirty', respectively called 'Talk Dirrty'—a fitting song since you're about to lay down the dirtiest heat onto the flustered mech burlesque style.

This was Optimus' idea, after he had followed you on your lonesome to a local nightclub on the outskirts of Jasper, duffle bag in your hand. He wanted to ensure you were safe, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he watched your little… performance for the locals from a side window. Safe to say, you were embarrassed once you had returned to the base at an ungodly hour, and he was, of course, still awake. But he had politely asked to see a performance of yours first-hand. And that's how you both ended up in this situation, in Optimus' quarters, door locked.

The first bassy note fills the room, accompanied by Christina's melodic voice as you flick your hair back, shaky hands dragging down your chest to your hips. A little taste of what's to come. Your hands come to rest on your fishnet-covered knees and shamelessly slut-drop a few metres before Optimus, who watches with bated breath. And in the sexiest way you could think of, place your hands down the floor in front of you and slide your body towards the floor, arching your back as you do so. It's a raunchy move, but the look on his faceplates is priceless as his optics flicker to your ass in the air.

You then move your knees forward and crawl towards his pedes, akin to a predator stalking its prey. He hitches his breath as you straddle the floor between his legs and slowly drag your hands up his pedes to his knees, and to his utter shock, you pry them open. Moving from his knees, your trail your hands up his silvery thighs, past his hips' blue plating and to his abdomen's plating, fingers lightly dipping into the crevices between them.

You can feel him shutter against your touch as you tease him, arching his back into your hands. In a smug move, you withdraw your hands from him and trail them back down to his knees, using them as leverage to push you upright. Arching your chest forward, you come within inches of his own until he has a frontal view of your barely covered cleavage. It's revitalising your confidence as you watch Optimus ogle. His frame shivering and servos twitching with a restrained desire, to which you would need to praise him for respecting the etiquette of lap dances.

"You look like you're enjoying yourself," You lean to whisper into his audio receptor before you lift your legs over one of his thighs, then the other, now straddling his waist, "Remember what I said before… no touching."

Optimus gives you a restrained whimper as you grind against his lap to the music, whipping your hair around with a hand on his shoulder for balance. The other hand moved meticulously across his chassis. This dance was supposed to be for Optimus, but you're enjoying this far more than anticipated. His broad shoulders were undeniably attractive, and his neck cabling, Primus, you could lean forward and tease the trembling mech with your tongue, but you knock back that thought. Instead, you lift yourself from his lap and flip yourself around, near bare ass making direct contact with his painfully bowed-out interface plating, and you can feel his engine rev at the move, and he makes a low groan from behind you.

"Primus," He growls as he watches you grind your ass on him. It's taking the strength of a thousand tugboats to keep him from shoving you onto the floor and ploughing into you like the out-of-control cargo ship he is. Whether those tugboats are strong enough is a matter of what your next move is.

And when you stand up to bend over, fingertips brushing the floor, he is greeted with a direct view of your backside, slick arousal and all. And within three seconds, his servos are on your ass, and he pushes you to the ground with the force of a cargo ship slamming into the shoreline. It knocks the wind out of you, forcing you to take sharp breaths.

Optimus flips your body around and settles himself atop you. The bump-and-grind music is drowned out by his harsh invents, and you can feel the roar of his engine in your bones as he lowers his helm to the nape of your flushed neck.

"I apologise for my abruptness, but I can no longer contain myself." He growls against the pulse of your neck, hammering against your skin at a speed you never thought was possible. Optimus losing his restraint and going against the rule book of lap dances was not expected, but a warm and hot welcome nonetheless.

The chair is long forgotten, tipped over when Optimus pounced on you like a big cat. And you don't care about the dance anymore. Your mind solely focuses on how his hands rip your bottoms and fishnets away. Note to self, add new pair of fishnets to the shopping list.

"I'm obliged to ask," He brings a hand to cup your chin, the gentle action contrasting his fiery optics boring holes into your own, "Do I have your consent?"

You bite your lip, an attempt to ignore the feeling of his knee bumping against your heat, which is currently wetter than the Everglades. You'd be crazy not to consent.

"Yes." You finally breathe out. That seems to satisfy Optimus as he begins to assault your neck with kisses, and you hold back a moan. So gentle yet firm as he trails them across your jawline and finishes with a drawn-out kiss to your lips.

He pushes his glossa into your mouth as he dips a servo in-between your thighs, prying them open gently. Optimus only had to press the tip of his digit for you to let out a breathy whimper against his intake, thighs already shaking, and Primus, you're wondering what his dick could possibly feel like inside you if he's already dragging you to heaven with just his hands. And you're eager to find out.

You break the kiss and struggle to keep your composure as he moves his digit gently within you, "Optimus- ah- no offence, but I think I'm - oooh - already wet enough."

He flickers his optics to your face, then back down to the hand working between your thighs. It's already soaked with your arousal, running down the palm of his hand and wrist.

"I see," Optimus says, prying his hand away from your slick. And with the same hand, he disengages his modesty panel with a grunt, letting his spike lay heavy in his hand, "However, I need to take necessary precautions of my own to ensure this encounter goes smoothly."

Now it's your turn to ogle at his junk as he uses the remainder of your fluids on his hand to pump the length a few times, and it's the hottest thing you've seen to date, despite you being a stripper. You've seen some shit, and Optimus' dick tops all of them. And he's about to top you with it.

Finished with lubing himself, he leans his helm down to the side of your head and presses the tip of his length against the folds of your pussy. Optimus uses his other hand to curl behind your head gently.

"Please, if you cannot handle me at any point, tell me."

And with a shaky vent against your ear, he pushes himself inside you. Even if you could scream, the bassy background music would down it out. But you're rendered speechless as your jaw slips once he reaches the innermost part of you. You're shaking and squirming underneath Optimus, and he gently squeezes your head as he cocoons himself around you, whispering sweet nothings and reassurances. You're already on the cusp of an orgasm, and he hasn't even moved.

Once Optimus has also regained somewhat composure, he draws his hips back and rolls them back into you. And your vision dots with stars, supernovas even, which would be a more fitting term as he grinds his hips against your own at an even swiftness. Your voice doesn't hold back this time as you let out a filthy cry against Optimus' audial fin.

"Optimus! Ahah!" You wrap your quivering arms around his helm as he pounds you into the floor. It's unrelenting, overwhelming all your senses. You're stretching beyond human limits. The music no longer exists according to you; the only melody your mushy brain desires to hear is his growls and groans against your ear as he ruts into you.

"I'm - ahh - closer to finishing than I thought," Optimus grunts, then nips the shell of your ear with his dentae, "You're… quite tight."

Despite being mass-displaced, you were about to respond with a sarcastic comment about the obvious size difference between you and him. Yet, all that comes out of your drooling mouth is a high-pitched squeal as Optimus delivers a harsh thrust to your G-Spot. To which he continues to abuse and grind his tip against.

"P-Please…" Another short thrust, and he's purring into the side of your neck, "Overload with - hgghn - me."

That's it. You're at the finish line, and you throw your head back and buck your hips up as your orgasm wreaks havoc over your sweaty frame. You're digging your fingertips into the crevasses of his shoulder plating as you let out a fluttery cry. Optimus, currently experiencing a religious experience from the sheer force of your velvet walls squeezing his spike, lets out a gravelly moan into your neck. His hips wildly buck as he experiences his overload, spilling himself inside you. It's everywhere, dripping down your thighs, transferring onto his thighs and the cold floor beneath you both.

A few glorious moments pass, a mold of flesh and metal entangled on the floor. With all the multicoloured lights cascading off your bodies, you could create an oil painting and make Da Vinci cry with how beautiful this moment is. Optimus slowly pulls out, craning his helm down to watch his transfluids spill from you. Then, like the gentle giant, he scoops his hands under your body and rolls onto his back with you lying on his chassis. You let your head come to rest against where his spark chamber is, hearing tiny little zaps and whirls as his spark slows down its beats. He places a servo on your lower back, and you crane your head just in time to see a mushy smile on his face. And you can't help but let one encompass your own.

"What are you smiling at?"

You give him a soft chuckle, "You. And also because I didn't even get to finish my dance for you."

"I suppose there will have to be a next time then, hm?" Optimus nonchalantly says before he pulls you to his face to kiss you deeply.

Wheeljack

"Thanks for the lift, Jackie." As you pick up your duffle bag from the passenger seat, you mutter and crack the door open, "I owe you one."

"Hey, anything for my favourite squishy," Wheejack replies, albeit slightly hesitant at the current location he was dropping you off, "Say, why'd ya want me to take ya here this time of night? It's kinda… unexpected."

"I uh…" You stammer, closing the door and hoisting the duffle over your shoulder, trying to think of some excuse for asking him to drop you off at a nightclub and not telling him that you were a stripper, "I work here. Yeah, I'm on the late shift."

"Oh, like a bartender? I never knew you were the one to pour out the drinks." He revs his engine, "Just com the base when you're ready, kid. I'll come an' pick ya up."

You nod and give his roof a few pats before you sundered off to the back entrance to the nightclub, hoping and praying that the rich guys were here tonight so you could get paid the big bucks. You're so caught up in your money-hazed vision that you overlook your Cybertronian Uber parking next to the building.

Gonna see what you're really up to, Wheeljack thinks, scouting the area for other humans before returning to his alt mode and settling down under a window.

It's times like this when you're grateful for your job. Yeah, the flow of money is hit-and-miss at times, but a night like tonight is what every stripper dreams of. Bands and bands of fresh cash stuffed half-hazard into your duffle. You could treat yourself, go all out and buy a new pair of lingerie. You could wander into the liquor store across the road and purchase a nice top-shelf bottle of vodka. But alas, most of this dough will be funding your university fees. A sad reality, but you'll do whatever it takes to graduate.

Stuffing the rest of the money into the duffle, you hear a familiar rev of a sports car and make your way to the front entrance. Most patrons had left, leaving you relatively safe to walk out alone. Not that you had to worry in the first place, not when you've always got Wheeljack looking out for you. You've grown on him, and he's grown on you. There's no denying that you've got some feelings for the wrecker, but you'll keep that to yourself for now. He opens the door for you, and you slide in. A soft sigh of relief escapes you, and you slump into the eerily warm seat. After you're safely bucked in, he pulls away from the kerb. The silence that drowns the cabin is… awkward.

"Hey," Wheeljack begins after a while, a slight edge to his voice. He then clears his vocaliser, "How was your, uh… shift."

"It was pretty alright," You fold your arms across your tank top, "Just the usual."

"The usual, eh?" You can hear a little cockiness show through like he's trying so hard not to smile, "Does your line of work usually result in a dollar bill getting stuck in your… What's that thing you females wear again? Uh, bra?"

You freeze, eyes burning holes into his dash before you glance down at your chest. It appears you missed one; the corner of a dollar bill is peeking out from the bra you wore on stage. There's no way Wheeljack would've noticed if he wasn't staring at your tits, which there's no denying because his rearview mirror is pointed downwards, reflecting your cleavage.

"I know you humans get up t'some strange things, but ya could've at least told me you were a stripteaser."

You bury your head in your hands, a pathetic attempt to squeeze yourself into a ball and hide your rosy face, but you can't because he's everywhere. There's no escaping, so you let out a muffled whine.

"Ok, you got me," You huff, any shred of dignity thrown out the window, "But if you tell anyone, and I mean anyone, that I'm a stripper, I'm coming for your aft."

"Oh, I don't intend to, sweetheart," He growls, and you can feel it in your bones, "Not if I can have ya all to myself."

"Wait wha-" There's no finishing your sentence as Wheeljack veers into an abandoned gas station, almost taking the wind out of you. He rolls to a stop and opens his door to let you out, or for a better term, stumble out, "What the hell?"

You watch Wheeljack transform into his bot mode, mass displacing himself so that he towers just a head above you, and you can see every little detail, every wrinkle and scratch. Oh my god, you need to stop staring.

"I quite liked your little routine, kid," He begins, poking a digit at one of the straps of your tank top, "But I'd like ta experience it first hand if ya catch my drift, right here, right now."

Your jaw drops, "You want me to… give you a dance?"

"I didn't stutter, did I?" And before you knew it, Wheeljack sits propped up against the gas station wall, a digit beckoning you over, "C'mere an' give me a show."

Well, there's no time like the present, you think to yourself. You cross your arms over your stomach and swiftly pull off your tank top before moving to your tracksuit pants, throwing both articles of clothing behind you. Your outfit was not modest in any regard, and you can feel Wheeljack's optics clawing at your exposed skin already. As you shakily rummaged through your duffle for your pleaser heels, Wheeljack switched on his radio, and you could hear the first beats of 'You Shook Me All Night Long' by AC/DC. You roll your eyes as you slip on your heels.

"What? Ya don't like this song?" Wheeljack chuckles, "I think it fits perfectly."

"It's the meaning behind it," You stand, the satisfying click-clack of your heels echoes off the walls, "I'd say you're looking for more than just a lap dance if I'm right in my suspicions."

"Cheeky, I like it," Wheeljack says with a shit-eating grin, "Go on then, show me what ya got."

And so, you do. You stand a few metres before the wrecker and swivel your hips to the drum beat, flicking your hair in the same motion as your hips, running your fingers through your hair as you do. As the first lyrics start, you take a few drawn-out steps closer to Wheeljack, running your hands over your breasts and down your bare stomach finishing off with a twirl. He's facing your back now as he watches you squat to the ground, hands dragging down your thighs, swivelling your hips as you do. While crouched down, you turn on the balls of your feet and give him a wink before arching your back and returning to a standing position. You high-kick and finish with another twirl, standing directly between his spread pedes. You repeat the crouch move, but you're facing him this time. In time with the main chorus, you slide to your knees to straddle the ground, bouncing your hips a few times, dragging your hands through your hair, and flipping it in a circle. You then slide your hands down your thighs and to the ground before you, slowly crawling closer to his thighs. Wheeljacks' optics had not left your frame during all this time, a small smile tugging on his dermas.

"That was impressive, kid," He nods before reaching for your hands and tugging them closer to his interfacing panel, "But I'm not blown away jus' yet. Do ya think you can help me with this?"

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nod, hands ghosting across the bulging panel. Wheeljack seems rather impatient, so he slips away the cover for you, and the sight that meets your eyes makes you drool.

You knew Wheeljack was riled up from your performance, but this was the icing on the robot dick cake. He's thick, blue biolights run down the underside of the silver member and already dripping with precum. Half-naked, you're both out in the open at an abandoned gas station, and your dignity has already been thrown out the window. You were willing to indulge in him just for a short while.

Running your palm up the underside of his spike, you feel Wheeljack shiver. The textures and patterns are so foreign, like nothing you've experienced. Tentatively, you wrap your hands around the base of his spike and give him a few experimental pumps, drawing a few low moans from the mech above you. Feeling more confident, you squeeze him tighter and pump him faster.

"Scrap," He mutters, placing a hand on your shoulder, "You're good at that."

Smiling, you lean down and cautiously lick the tip of his spike, drawing even more delicious moans from the wrecker. And when you wrap your lips around it, he has to restrain himself from pushing you down further onto him. Living up to your 'cheekiness', you flicker your eyes to his face and stare at him right in his optics as you give him a harsh suck.

"Ah - frag - Y/n, stop!" Wheeljack half whines and laughs as he pulls you off him upon feeling a premature overload, "Sheesh, ya nearly got me there."

Placing a departing kiss on his tip, you crawl onto his lap, six-inch pleaser heels digging into his metal thighs. The music is louder from here, and you can feel it vibrating your bones, "I guess you're not satisfied just yet."

His vents hitch as you move your underwear to the side and press your very wet pussy lips against the tip of his spike, "Maybe not, sweetheart. Ya gonna change that?"

You slowly sink onto his spike, maintaining eye contact. You watch his face turn from a smug look into one you could frame on a wall. His face scrunches in pure pleasure as you stuff as much of him as physically possible in you. He may be mass-displaced, but his sheer thickness makes it a tight squeeze. You feel your own breath hitch as you take him to the hilt. He fills you up amazingly.

"Yes."

You roll your hips forward once, and you're already seeing white. The combination of Wheeljacks' spike dragging against your velvet walls and the vibrations from the electric guitar still playing on the radio strums your nervous system like an instrument. You're craving more, and he is, too, because his hands are on your hips now, and he's guiding you. He's the maestro, and you're the entire orchestra.

"F-Fuck." You whimper out, bracing yourself against his chassis as you start to bounce on his spike. Your thighs are starting to ache from the lactic acid built up from all the dancing you've done tonight, and thankfully, Wheeljack notices your struggle.

"Don't worry, cutie. I'll take it from here." He huskily breathes out before his grip on your hips tightens, and he bucks up into you. As he does, you fall forward flat on his chassis, cheek squishing against him as he proceeds to fuck you like his spark depends on it.

"Oh fuck!" You cry out, bringing a hand to cover your mouth in a pathetic attempt to muffle your moans. But nothing can silence the lewd sound of metal slapping against skin, not even the rock music, which has now clicked over to 'Pour Some Sugar On Me', and you'll never think of this song again without getting absolutely turned on.

"Take your - hggff - hand off. I wanna hear ya," Wheeljack growls as he grips the hand covering your mouth and forcefully removes it, "Y'know, maybe I can taste ya instead."

Within what seems like a nano-second, he wraps his arms around your midsection and smashes his dermas into yours. He presses his glossa against your tongue in a fight for dominance, and you're forced to surrender as he slams his spike so deep in your pussy you see galaxies, crying out into his intake.

"Oh, frag-"He murmurs into your mouth, keeping a death grip on your midsection, "Keep squeezing me like that kid, and I'm gonna-"

He's gone. Thrown into the deep end of his overload, he presses himself as deeply as physically possible and releases his transfluids inside you. You choke on his glossa at the delicious sensation of being stuffed full, and it triggers your own orgasm. You break the kiss and bury your head in the crook of his neck as your body shakes, crying out in utter euphoria as he bucks his hips to help ride out the shared orgasm. You can hear Wheeljacks' spark spasming in rhythm with his throbbing spike gushing in your tight walls.

"Frag…" He shakily ex-vents, holding you against his chassis, "You've certainly impressed me now, kid."

You're too exhausted to give him a cohesive reply, opting for a string of whines. You're also too focused on the sheer amount of fluids you can feel dripping between your thighs. He gives you a chuckle and presses a loving kiss to your temple, utterly amused at your dopey post-orgasmic bliss.

"You're so fraggin' adorable."

Knockout

There was nothing more refreshing to Knockout than clocking up speeds that could blow up a regular v8 engine along the winding rural roads of Jasper. It's freeing. It's elating. All heightened by the fact that he knows he shouldn't be out here in the first place. But there's nothing a little manipulation and the tugging of a few strings can't do to convince Megatron that he had good reason to be zipping around.

In the distance, he notices a peculiar establishment with bright neon lights surrounding the exterior. Strange, he's never seen such a place before. Knockout slows down, rolls into the parking lot, and is greeted with the muted sounds of music coming from inside. All the humans seem to be in there, so he transforms into his bot mode and crouches down to a window to take a peek. He notices some usual human behaviour, some drunk people, some cheering and throwing bits of paper at what seems to be a stage with a metal pole in the centre.

But it's not just the metal pole they're throwing currency at. No, they're tossing it towards a very under-dressed human hugging the pole, swinging around like an erotic firefighter he's seen in a movie once. Although, he's never seen a firefighter do that with their near bare ass. Conflicting feelings start to arise in Knockout, knowing that he shouldn't be out here and definitely should not be this fascinated by a human. But a part of him needs to meddle with this… alluring human.

"Wait, you want me to do what?"

It had been a regular night for you. You went to work, danced in front of an eager crowd, collected your cash and went home, is what you would say if a two-story alien robot hadn't grabbed you with a pair of extra sharp talons and transported you to god knows where. All you know so far is that through your screeching and thrashing around, you noticed that you were on a ship of some kind in a small room that was freezing cold. You had zero time to change out of your stripper wear and into something warmer before you were zipped away. And this red metal bastard sitting in front of you dares to ask you to perform for him, even though you find him mildly attractive in an unorthodox way.

"I know you heard me, squishy," The giant says with a toothy sneer, "Usually, I find your species rather obnoxious. Pityfull even, especially those other humans fawning over you like a scraplet in heat."

You have no idea what a scrapet is, but you ignore the strange synonym and probe him further, "If you hate us so much, why kidnap one? Wouldn't you prefer not to have a human here in your… quarters, I'm assuming?"

"That doesn't concern you." You swear you could see his face tint a slight blue, "Besides, wouldn't you prefer a little more excitement in your minuscule lifespan?"

Ok, he's got you there. Not every day you get to be kidnapped by an alien robot, let alone a hot one that wants you to give him a lap dance. You weigh your options, give him a dance, or he may step on you. Preferring not to be butchered today, you sigh in defeat.

"Alright, I'll give you what you want," You cross your arms and tap your heel on the floor, "But after, are you gonna let me go or…"

He holds his talons to his face as if checking his non-existent manicure before giving you the most sultry stare with his glowing red eyes, "That, my dear fleshy, entirely depends on whether you deliver or not."

You choose to ignore the heat that instantly pooled into your lower stomach and whip out your phone. No cell signal… even if you wanted to call for help, there's no way to do so. Glancing up at the mech still seated before you, you shakily scroll through your playlist and press play. 'I'm A Slave 4 U' pretty much sums up your current circumstance. How ironic.

You do what you know best, scrapping together any little confidence from the bottom of the barrel and just going for it because your life is potentially on the line. Your sway your hips, exaggerating your movements as much as possible. Hands exploring your own body and running them through your hair. You feel sexy as fuck, and you most likely look like it, too, because the look this robot is giving you is enough to sear holes into the surface of the sun. His eyes drag over every exposed inch of your body, and his lips are pressed in a line with a slight tug at one of the corners.

You finish with a dramatic split to the floor, then slide to your hands and knees and crawl towards the red mech. For some reason, he appears smaller than when you had started, but you decide not to dwell on it and regard it as a strange quirk of an alien.

"My, that was very entertaining," He grins, bringing a pointy digit to drag under your chin, the sensation making your eyes water, "But I seem to have a little… problem if you are willing to indulge me."

You quirk your head, "Uh… what kind of problem?"

With a smirk, he brings his other hand to the plating between his spread legs and fiddles underneath them. With a clang, the plating falls away. It reveals a very erect phallic object resembling a dick if it were created from metal.

Oh, that kind of problem.

He leans back against the wall and rests his forearm on a bent knee, looking like a poser straight out of a porn mag. You swallow heavily as it's your turn to rake your eyes over his frame, wide eyes landing on the throbbing silver mass resting on his hip. This is wrong on so many levels, but you don't seem to resist as you extend your hand to brush your fingertips on the underside of his cock. His breath hitches as you do so.

"Eager already. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist. You humans are all the same," He pinches your cheeks with the hand still touching your face, "Go on, I don't have all night."

Bastard. It seems to you that he's the eager one because he draws your face closer to his cock that it now pokes into your cheek. It's oddly warm with a slight metallic smell, and now all you're thinking about is how it tastes. This is wrong. You grip his cock in your hand and slip the tip into your mouth, circling the tip a few times to collect the tiny drops of precum on your tongue. So very wrong.

He shivers, his grip moving from your cheeks to the top of your head. His fingers are sharp against your scalp, but you don't care. You're going to give this alien what he wanted and more. You want to blow his circuits for kidnapping you. With this in mind, you push his dick past your throat and take him to the hilt, causing him to buck into your mouth. Your eyes are watering again, threatening to spill out onto your cheeks.

"Scrap!" He whines before gripping your hair and ripping you off his dick. Harsh ex-vents blow onto your body, "You almost caused an overload!"

You're assuming that's the robot equivalent of an orgasm. You smirk, "That was the plan."

He huffs, "Well if that's how you want to play, I'll have to make you overload first."

He pounces, and you fall on your back with an oof, sharp talons clawing at your pants, ripping them clean off. He moves one hand and pins your arms above your head, and the other drags across your thighs to your embarrassingly wet folds. You pray to god he doesn't poke you.

"Pfft, by the amount of fluids accumulating down there, it seems like you are enjoying this." He scoffs, rolling his thumb around your clit, sending jolts of electric shocks up your spine, "I'm right, aren't I?"

Your head lulls to the side, allowing the mech to give you direct access to your neck. He hums, leaning down to give you pecks and love bites. How strangely gentle of him, "Just - guh - hurry up."

You can feel him smile against your collarbone, "Alright, if you say so~"

He removes his thumb and replaces it with something much more significant in size. It's pressing right against your entrance, and oh my god, it's pushing inside you. You throw your head back and clench your hands in his grip as he pushes the rest of his length inside you. It's throbbing against your walls as he seems to display some restraint to not fuck you into the floor at the first instance.

"My, you feel… very tight, dearie." His hips are flush against your own now, and all you can do is squirm as you feel him pressing against your cervix, which you're sure is about to be ruined.

He draws his hips back and re-enters you, and your vision goes white. It's slow pace at first, an agonisingly slow pace. Most likely to prevent his own orgasm and to draw you as close to the edge as possible. The bumps and ridges along his cock drag across your walls mind-numbingly, and you're not sure how long you will last.

The pace picks up until he slams you into the floor with every rut of his hips, abusing your G-Spot un relentlessly. The hand that wasn't trapping your arms is now gripping the plush flesh of your hip, aiding him in his thrusts. His little mewls and praises were unexpected but delightful against your ear, and they only drew you closer to finishing.

"I - haAHH - never got your - hggnh - name." You stutter out as he send a particularly harsh thrust, arching your back into his chassis.

"Knockout, dearie." He grunts, claws digging into your hips deep enough to draw blood, "And I - hffgh - expect you to scream it."

That was it. Knockout only had to slam into your aching pussy a few more times before your orgasm knocks you off the cliff. You cry out his name, as ordered, as your walls strangle his cock. He yelps against your neck as he unleashes a disturbing amount of cum inside you, rutting into you in jagged thrusts as he rides out his own. You can feel it dripping down your inner thighs as your soft body fails to accommodate even a fraction of the amount. Legs quivering, he slowly draws his cock out, admiring your hole as the rest gushes out.

"Well, wasn't that exciting?" Knockout gives you a toothy smirk, lazily grinding his cock across your folds, "I think I'll keep you around, sweetheart."

No average person would be happy with that. Still, after tonight, you're very welcome to the idea of being a personal strip teaser for a devilishly hot alien robot.

#tfp x reader #tfp optimus #tfp wheeljack #tfp knockout #tfp knockout x reader #tfp wheeljack x reader #tfp optimus x reader #valveplug #cyberrosewrites

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melodymunson · 26 days

Text

older! Rockstar Eddie Munson x fem! reader x eventual older Steve x fem!reader.

(Eddie is 38 and the reader is 25.) The year is 2008. All 21 chapters are on ao3. Only chapter 1 will be on tumblr.

series title: Love Buzz

chapters 1 and preview of chapter 2 (5K words)

chapter 1: like a dream come true

series summary: Corroded Coffin have a reunion tour with none other than doom/gothic metal legends Type O' Negative. Reader recently finished college with a bachelor's degree in the music business. After being interviewed by none other than Eddie Munson himself, you get the job as their touring band manager. What starts as a business relationship grows into friendship and eventually an epic romance. Steve Harrington is CC's bodyguard. Eventual Steddie x fem! reader. Multi-series.

Ao3 link

The sound of your alarm clock blared in your ears as you removed your eye mask and stretched. You turned it off, then got up and put on your house slippers, then made your way to your shower to get ready for the day. Gone were the days of doing pole dancing and burlesque for money to pay for college. Your college debt was all paid for and you had a temporary, yet steady job working at your best friend's family-owned restaurant. Pay and tips were good, but today you were interviewing for your dream job. You couldn't wait to meet the frontman and lead guitarist of the legendary 80s metal band Corroded Coffin- Eddie Munson. They toured with so many amazing bands back in the day before they reunited, such as Carnivore, Cinderella, Whitesnake, The Scorpions, Bon Jovi, W.A.S.P., and even the Prince of Darkness himself- Ozzy Osbourne. The 80s were a bit of an obsession to you, even though you only grew up late in the decade and were just a kid when the 80s were about to end. The 90s were just fine, but you had the fondest memories of your childhood in the 80s. Once you washed your hair and used your favorite body wash, you shave your legs and blow dry your hair before applying your favorite scent of perfume and lotion. The interview flyer said to dress casually, so you dressed in your favorite pair of black leather pants and a Black Sabbath tour shirt. You paired it with your most worn and metal pin-decorated black leather jacket. Although you were a bit apprehensive about anything that could go wrong, you instead decided to focus on all the good. After getting some breakfast, you headed out to go to the drive-thru and pick up your favorite coffee order then go to Eddie's studio for the interview. Corroded Coffin was recording a brand new EP and it was the first music they would release in over 10 years, since their last show and album was back in 1995. The original lineup was back together, though and they needed a new manager- someone reliable. With your degree and experience working a little in the music industry throughout college and in your 2-year internship.

When you arrived at their studio, Eddie's uncle Wayne led you into the recording studio and told you to make yourself comfortable. You had a short phone interview with Eddie but this second interview would be the last one to see if you would get the position. That summer Corroded Coffin had a 30-date North American tour that was sold out, including 4 dates in Canada. Traveling was something you wanted to do much more of and this would be the perfect opportunity for that. Your last relationship ended only two months ago and you couldn't wait to find more things to do to keep yourself busy. This dream job would hopefully be the best distraction. As you walked into the studio, Eddie saw smiled at you as he looked you up and down. He was quite impressed with what he was seeing. When you sat down in the room opposite the recording booth, Eddie put his guitar down and made his way over to the room you were in. You stood up as soon as he entered and Wayne left. Eddie looked even more attractive in person. He had the most stunning tattoos and his curly locks of hair were something else. When you were younger, you had a big crush on him, but now you felt like you were smitten. Seeing him in magazines, on posters, in interviews, and even in music videos didn't do him enough justice. He was not just hot and sexy he was a very handsome man and his stubble only added to the allure. His ripped Ozzy shirt complimented his pair of spandex jeans quite well.

"Sit down, please. I'd like to get this interview started and after you can stay if you'd like and hear us record a new song. How does that sound?" He asked as he sits down in a chair opposite from yours.

"Yes, sir. I mean Mr. Munson. I would like that very much."

"No, no, don't call me sir, or Mr. Munson. That's my father and sir just makes me feel like an old man," he admitted, trying to hold back a slight chuckle.

You sat back down and nodded your agreement, waiting pensively for the interview to start. Even though no one else was around or super close by, you couldn't help but feel your nerves get the better of you. Here this beautiful rockstar and guitar Adonis was sitting right in front of you, and it was making you nervous. It was a good thing you had some time before the studio to do your makeup- some black eyeshadow, lipstick, and foundation.

"Well, to be quite honest with you, judging from your resume, you are one of the two most qualified so this interview will be the last one before I make my final decision. I will call you with the news by tonight after talking it over with the rest of the guys. Now my first question is, are you completely dedicated to being on a full-length all-summer tour across North America with Canada included?" He asked with a raise of his brows.

His brown button eyes were so gorgeous. You couldn't fall for him though. He was your potential boss after all. If you didn't end up getting the job, then you probably wouldn't hear from him again unless you went to one of their shows.

"I know I am qualified for this job and I am very dedicated to my job. At the moment, I work at a restaurant, but I can give my week's notice and be there for you at the start of the tour and throughout the summer, Eddie. I also have my passport renewed and ready at my disposal now if you'd like to check it out."

"That won't be necessary." He clears his throat, then eyes you up and down again with a small smirk on his lips. "I need to have you sign an NDA otherwise known as a nondisclosure agreement. What happens and what is said on tour and in the studio stays on tour and in the studio. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Eddie. I understand that fully. I am familiar with NDA and I could sign one."

"Good, because we wouldn't want my band's new songs to be leaked, now would we? The album isn't being released until the very end of the summer after all. Not even the song track titles," he explains to you as he gestures with his hands for emphasis. His metal and sterling silver rings were a sight to see and you liked his style.

"I completely understand. I can keep it a secret."

"Now there's no set uniform for this job, but just to let you know I like your style and would like to see you wear similar outfits on the tour. Just throwing that out there. I've seen your references, resume, as well as your degree in music and your GPA, and I am highly impressed. I just have one last question for you. Are you prepared for long days and some grueling nights? Can you keep up with that sort of lifestyle with little sleep some nights, well most nights actually, and being around as well as managing 4 crazy old dude rockers?"

He didn't want to scare you off or make you nervous. Those things were far from his true intentions, but he wanted to know that he had someone reliable for him. Someone who truly was a person he could count on, because there were so many people he couldn't even trust.

"Yes, Eddie. I can be the manager that you and Corroded Coffin need."

He got up and put out his hand for you to shake. You took it and shook his hand.

"I'll be in touch. We are about to record our guitar and drum solos for the new track and I think you should stay."

"I will. Thank you."

He nodded and left the room, closing the door gently behind him. As they recorded, you watched in amazement and fascination, as you banged your head along to the music. His eyes met yours as he played his solo, and a wicked grin was on his face whenever he made eye contact with you. Later on, he talked to his bandmates and they decided on the new band touring manager.

Eddie's POV:

I like her already. She has a good personality, likes great music, she seems reliable and trustworthy, and even better she certainly has the look to be my band manager. I just wonder if she will have what it takes to survive out on the road with the 4 of us crazy rockers. The relationship is going to be professional and I won't let myself stray from my music and my job but God if I said I didn't want to take her out I would be lying. She is drop-dead gorgeous and I feel like she is the perfect fit for our band. Once I call Miranda and let her know the job position has been filled, I will call her to let her know she has the gig.

Your phone rang almost right after you had finished up your dinner and watched one of your favorite movies on DVD. You picked it up almost instantly once Eddie's name showed up on the caller ID.

"Hello?" You asked.

"It's me, Eddie. I just got off the phone with the other interviewee and I had to let her down easily. You got the job."

You muted your mic for a few seconds to do a happy dance and scream before unmuting him.

"Great. When do I start?"

"I'm glad you still want the job. Two weeks from tomorrow, we start tour prep, and two days after that we are off on the road. Are you sure you're ready for this and fully committed to it?"

"I am. I swear."

"Good now get some rest and I will call you in about a few with some more details."

"Thanks, Eddie."

"Good night. Take care of yourself."

"You too, Eddie."

You hung up and danced all around your house before you called your best friend to celebrate. She came over for celebratory drinks and hugged you before she left. She more than understood you calling it quits with your job at her family's restaurant and things were great between the two of you. You slept well that night.

Your best friend couldn't help but gush about it with you when you revealed you had gotten the job, and that you were now officially the touring band manager of Corroded Coffin. She was so happy for you and it was going to be the best thing ever to go out on tour with one of your favorite bands. The summer tour started in Los Angeles, California, and ended in Brooklyn, New York, with some other dates. Of course, there would be a stop in Hawkins, Indiana, the band's hometown. Your friend couldn't help but talk about just how hot she thought Eddie was, especially in recent interviews and magazine print photos. She was so jealous of you and you promised her a backstage pass in New York. Eddie and his fellow bandmates had moved to Brooklyn in the early 2000s because of the great music scene there. The tour with Type O' Negative was a co-headliner with the bands switching stage times each night of the tour. Of course, you thought Eddie was great looking and getting to know him better throughout the tour, which you imagined would happen, was going to be pretty great. According to the tabloids, he was recently single but of course, your relationship with him was going to be professional. You didn't dare ask an almost stranger about his relationship status. Eddie was formerly married with no children. His ex-wife, Hailey, supposedly could be a real bitch, and you hoped you would never have to cross paths with her. It was going to be the summer of a lifetime guaranteed and as you packed for your trip, you listened to Corroded Coffin as your bestie and roommate helped you get ready for the tour. The way he smelled at the interview was a mixture of nicotine and a nice spicy cologne and aftershave. His hands were calloused from playing the guitar, but it seemed like he had the tried and true hands of a real guitarist. What you wouldn't give to have his hands in yours. You fantasized about him at night and thought about his big and strong arms wrapped around you, but of course, that couldn't be possible, right? He was your boss and good-looking, but still, you didn't want to jeopardize your dream job. You would keep your hands to yourself. For all you knew, he probably had a girlfriend, and in a low-key relationship, he hid from the public's view. Either way, there would probably still be groupies on tour.

A few nights later, just days before the tour, Eddie called you post-band rehearsal.

"Hi, Eddie. I hope you are doing well."

"Thank you, and I am. I just wanted to get in touch to talk to you about a few things. The plane and itinerary that you have received in the mail are all paid for up-front and included in your salary. Is now a good time to talk?"

"Definitely. I wasn't busy doing anything."

"Good. I assume you also got the checklist for what you need to bring on tour and what's suggested, what you should probably leave behind?"

"I did. I received it in the mail today," you told him sounding eager in your tone as you lay on your bed.

You took another sip of your glass of red wine, as Eddie took another puff of his joint.

"Well, great then. Now on this tour, family and friends can be invited backstage, and on the tour bus, but we have a strict schedule, with a limited number of days off. I was just making sure it's understood that you run it by me first before any family or friends come backstage?"

Secretly, you wondered if Eddie liked younger women but quickly dismissed this thought.

"That's perfectly understandable and I will let you know in advance. My best friend wants to come to the New York show. Is that alright?"

"In Brooklyn? Definitely. I just have one more question for you." He paused for a few brief moments, and took another drag, before placing the joint down on his ashtray and continuing. The suspense was killing you. It sounded like he was smoking, and his voice was smoky, but in a good way. "Well, since all the technicalities are already taken care of, and the traveling logistics, as well as the food budget, I was just wondering if you would be interested in directing and being in our next music video?"

At that moment, you wanted so badly to jump up and down in excitement- and to scream, but contained yourself, and calmed down before you responded to him.

"That sounds pretty amazing. I'd love to direct and star in your new music video," you told him, sounding very intrigued.

"Great and finally, I just wanted to make sure you don't have any further questions for me."

"Not at the moment. My best friend will take care of my dog and I will be there for the full duration of the job. No one will come in between my job or be in the way."

"Well, you are still pretty young. You'll be pretty great for the job then. I have one more thing to say. You'll be one of the very first people to hear the new album in its entirety, including bonus tracks and all. Also, I wanted to tell you about one of my good friends. Steve. Steve Harrington. He's going to be our merch guy. Just letting you know."

"Great. I can't wait to meet him."

"Me too. Take care and I'll see you at the airport on Saturday?"

"Definitely. See you then. Good night Eddie."

"Good night, Y/N."

As you counted down the days on your calendar until the next time you would see Eddie again, you made the most of it. You spent each day with your best friend, until the day of the flight. After a nice shopping trip together and buying some new clothes, as well as shoes for your trip, you had a sleepover and reminisced about old times. When the day finally came to see Corroded Coffin and meet up with the band at the airport, you put on your best perfume after your shower. You changed into your favorite band tee, along with ripped jeans, your best black leather jacket, and platform boots. You took a taxi to the airport, and when you arrived at JFK international airport, you checked in through security and met Eddie, Jeff their guitarist, Gareth their drummer, and their bassist, Grant, by the gates.

Everyone ended up being nice in the band, and as a late arrival, Steve showed up.

"Hi, I'm Steve. You must be the new band manager, Y/N."

He extended his hand for you to shake, which you accepted.

"Eddie mentioned you. Nice to meet you."

As everyone sat around waiting for the plane to board, Eddie went to the nearest snack machine and brought bag packs of chips and bottles of water for everyone. You thanked him, glad to have a snack. Soon the plane was called to board and you got on soon finding your seat in first class. It was amazing to be sitting next to Eddie, and you felt like rock royalty, as you were in that section with the band. You didn't quite feel worthy, but you felt so at ease around him and near him. The faint smells of both tobacco and a nice cologne were coming off of Eddie. It was so comforting to you and as the plane took off and emerged into the air, you felt more calm than ever before. Soon you had champagne, and after your first big swig of it, you could feel the alcohol hit you. It was a nice feeling to have. The movie Playing on the flight was a horror film called The Devil's Rejects, and it was pretty enjoyable so far. You wanted to pace yourself and had just one glass as opposed to the other guys having between 1-3. Soon it was lunchtime, and after you ate you fell asleep and napped for the next few hours. The total flight time was about 6 hours. When you woke up close to the time of the plane landing, you were resting against Eddie's shoulder. Startled a little bit by your position, you looked up into his chocolate-brown eyes.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked with a smile on his face.

"I slept well," you replied, trying your best to not make anything seem awkward as you smiled back at him.

Eddie said nothing about the way you were sleeping and instead looked out of the window. Soon the plane made its descent, and you felt a mixture of emotions, including apprehension and happiness, but also a feeling of euphoria. After all, you were in the city of Angels and you felt like anything was possible. The following night was the first day of the tour at The Mayan. It was a sold-out show and would have close to 2000 attendees. The night after was Vegas, and you were looking forward to seeing some of the West Coast.

"So, are you ready to hit up the hotel and then maybe go out after for some drinks?" Eddie asked you.

"Oh, that would be great."

"Good. You have your room at the hotel, of course, and with the best view."

"Thanks, Eddie." You wondered if the bar meet-up would be with just Eddie or some of the other guys as well.

As you got off the plane and went to collect your luggage at the airport, Eddie stayed close to your side. He couldn't wait to take a smoke break, but right now, his priority was getting everyone safely to the hotel. He hailed a cab for you and him, along with Jeff. Gareth and Grant would take the next one though. L.A. was so busy and crowded, but as the traffic lightened up a little bit, you soon found yourself at the entrance to the Sheraton Hotel. The place was very nice, and after checking in with the hotel staff at the front desk, you took the elevator with Eddie to your rooms on the fourth floor. Once you parted ways with him, you explored your room and unpacked, before freshening up just a little bit. He texted you he would be at the local bar at the Virgil in downtown L.A. around 630 p.m. You texted back you would be there. Soon you left for the club and when you arrived, you found Eddie outside smoking. As you walked up to him you noticed the song playing in the bar was a Corroded Coffin song.

"Sounds like they are playing your song."

"Yep, they sure are. Shall we go in?"

You nodded your approval and walk with him into the bar. Soon you sat down, and the bartender came over to ask for your drink orders and ids. You showed her your ID, and she took your order of a mojito and Eddie's order of a triple shot of bourbon.

"So, what do you like to do for fun?"

"I'm very into art, cinema, photography, makeup, concerts, and shopping. That sort of stuff."

"Nice. Pretty much the same for me except makeup and shopping aren't all that bad. It just depends on what you are shopping for I guess. I love record stores."

"Me too. Swap meets, garage sales, and vinyl record shows can be pretty fun too."

"I agree. Great minds think alike."

With drinks in hand now, he gave you a toast.

"To us."

"To us," you repeated after him right before clinking your glasses together, then taking a big sip of your mojito. It was delicious, and most importantly, refreshing.

He loved how his bourbon tasted on his tongue, and he loved the feeling of the liquor in his system. A good drink after a nice smoke was just what he needed.

After a long silent pause, the song Master of Puppets began playing in the club. Eddie's head banged along to it and you smiled at him warmly, feeling a slight buzz from the liquor as you took another big sip of it and so did Eddie.

"This is my favorite to cover live especially," he mentioned with a slight hum, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I love this song and I'm sure the cover live is great. Hopefully, I will hear it on this tour."

He nodded in agreement as a big smirk formed on his face.

"Definitely. You sure will," he told you as he lifted his glass again to clink against yours.

He drank and leaned his head against his hand as he looked at you with his beautiful chocolate-brown eyes.

"What's on your mind?" He asked, sounding genuinely curious as he stared at you.

You took a big gulp of your drink, practically finishing it now, then set it down on the counter.

"I'm thinking about dancing. Head banging. I mean Metallica is awesome and makes me want to move. Know what I mean?"

"Sure. Why not?"

He got up and offered his hand for you to take. As soon as your hand met his and you made contact, you let him escort you to the dance floor.

As you moved in time to the music and danced close to him, you spun around, then bravely bumped and ground against him, with your back facing towards his chest. You boldly moved against him and leaned your head back. He enjoyed the close contact as the song's second verse wrapped up and the chorus kicked in again. He sang along to the music, and his head banged as you continued to move against him, but almost lost your balance. Catching you instantly, Eddie whispered in your ear.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, fine."

"I think we should dance a bit more, then head back to the hotel," he suggested.

You nodded in agreement, then continued dancing as he held onto your hips so you wouldn't fall. Eddie was all smiles as you danced for him. He was just so happy. You felt so excited and felt that at that moment, anything was possible. It was getting late and the tour was starting tomorrow. Right now you were going to live it up.

More songs came on, and with each one, you danced close to him, getting so close that your lips almost brushed against his. The way he smiled at you made you smile. He made you feel so safe with him. It was getting late, and soon you said goodbye and parted ways. The next day would be the first day of the tour and it would hopefully be amazing.

You slept well that night. Morning light soon came into your window and without hesitation, you turned off your alarm clock, eager to start the day. You checked your phone- finding a text from Eddie.

It was great to spend time with you last night. Eager for tonight. Let's rock!

His text made you smile, and you texted him back.

Can't wait for tonight. It's going to be the most metal show ever! :)

Eddie soon read your text, eager to see you again. Getting a good morning text from you was the best way to start his day, and you felt the same way about him.

After the concert, there would be a meet and greet. As the manager, you had to run that, but hopefully, it would go by well without a hitch. Beautiful women who were around were sure to be throwing themselves at Eddie. At least those that would give him their numbers. He was your coworker though. You had no right to get worked up about this. You wanted to look out for Eddie. You didn't want him to get used by any woman. Spending more time with him was all you wanted, and if anything more happened between the two of you, then so be it. Everything was going to work out and your dream job was starting today. You needed to be focused, but hopefully, later there would be time for some fun and getting to know Ed's better. As for Eddie, he was glad to have a dedicated person to be Corroded Coffin's tour manager. With you, he had just that.

chapter 2 title and preview: rock n roll all nite

Summary- Corroded Coffin put on their first concert of the tour. After Eddie has a fun night at the show he seeks comfort in someone else but realizes he needs you.

The club was one of the nicest you had ever seen. Everything about being there felt like home to Eddie. Playing gigs and living it up every night as a rockstar was his calling. His life revolved around Corroded Coffin, and his band meant everything to him. Without his bandmates, he wouldn't be where he was after so many years of putting both his heart and soul into his music. The hard work paid off, and he could launch a successful musical project even with all the turmoil of his past and being the town freak. Saving Hawkins from the likes of Vecna, and all the destruction that came from Hawkins' lab- he still had received no acknowledgment for any of it. Left for dead in the upside down, he eventually made his way out of the other side alive by some miracle. After extensive healing, he made a full recovery and healed. Music kept him going. Tonight was special. Type O Negative was one of the most respected bands from the east coast and Brooklyn. Being around the band and finally meeting them was one of Eddie's best experiences. Peter Steele was an influence of his. Doom Metal meant a lot to Eddie, with his favorite band being Black Sabbath. They were also the biggest influence on Peter and Type O Negative. The day had finally come that they would play a show- a co-headliner no less with these doom metal legends. The soundcheck went by without a hitch and everyone had a good time. You had the best view and once they had played through a few of their big hits; they took a short break before the VIP guests would arrive. Most of the tour had been a sell-out already, with the meet and greets sold out.

The meet and greets were very exclusive, but Eddie was going to meet every fan individually, along with Jeff, Gareth, and Grant. Everyone arrived in a timely fashion. To no one's surprise, at least half of the guests were women. All of them were so pretty. No doubt Eddie would have a groupie or two, maybe even more tonight. As a manager of the band, you had to be professional. Some girls had him sign their boobs, which was nothing new for him as to be expected. Many had magazines and posters to sign and when you took their group pictures, some women hugged him. The women were at least classy enough to not flash anyone.

One woman had fan art for Eddie and she got a backstage pass from him. Everything about Eddie was charming, so it was no surprise this was happening. Once the meet and greet ended, you accommodated all the guests back outside and assured them they would have an early entry. Eddie was too old for all the groupie stuff, but he wanted to meet every fan that wanted to meet him.

the rest of this chapter and the full 21 chapter series can all be found on ao3

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milknhonies · 5 months

Text

The Negatives of Shooting People

Chapter 3 || MasterList || Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: The ten year anniversary soiree is here for August's Lion Lounge club. And he's awfully surprised to see you, an uninvited guest...careful now....

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Gambling, Non-Con, Piss, Manipulation, Threats, Sexual Assualt, Bondage, Murder, Violence, Strangulation, Public Execution, Kidnapping, Bondage, Slight Daddy Kink, Slight Puppy Play Kink, Petnames.

Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader

Word Count: 8k

Author Notes: I honestly don't know how to gamble or how it works. I read a quick wiki instruction and played a game. If anyone actually knows how to play, let me know and I'll change the writing.

Inspiring Song: "Poker Face." By Lady Gaga.

07:00pm Friday 16th August 2024, Fortitude Valley, Brisbane.

When Lloyd met you in the foyer and escorted you to the car, you noticed how his neck was tight against his bow tie. His bruised face and knuckles had lightened. He had waxed his moustache and curled the tips upward.

He whistled low and gawked at you all over. Your foot rubbed the back of your calf shyly. You were decadent in pearls and metallic shimmering from your dress.

He reminded you that your role was too find August and do whatever you could to distract him from figuring out that Lloyd, a police officer undercover had infiltrated his event.

Lloyd gave you another hundred dollars and said it was for gambling and pleasure purposes only. If August could be distracted by a drink, a game of poker, a jukebox dance even a pokie machine, that should give Lloyd plenty of time to look around for an illegal weapons auction.

You both got out of the car and found yourself escorted on his arm passed the body guard checking the invites.

You clenched a small purse under your arm tighter as you entered the massive club. It left you briefly speechless.

The floor was covered in black and gold mixed marble. The club was an old building. Probably over a century or two old. It had a huge bar and multiple show rooms. On one stage was a burlesque dancer shaking her covered nipples. In another part was a casino theme of tables and machines. And to the sides were seats, tables and booths.

Lloyd got you both to sit down and he ordered a drink. He sipped his whiskey and glanced at the stairs that spiralled up to more private rooms.

“There he is, balcony, beside the blonde.”

You tried to not be obvious when you looked over your shoulder. August was smirking with a drink in his hand, shaking hands with an old bald gentleman with beady eyes and a brief case.

As that older fellow walked away Lloyd murmured, “And that’s our cue.”

He moved out of his seat and left the whiskey behind.

You waited a few minutes. You stared at the reflection of August in the whiskey glass and bit your lip. That man was a monster. He had raped you, humiliated you and made you scared…except now you had teeth and claws to flex.

You shut your eyes and prayed to get out alive. Picking up the glass you tossed your head back and finished what Lloyd had left. Your lipstick smudged the beautiful glasswork.

You abandoned the booth and deposited the glass.

You turned back and started to glide up those stairs in your small heeled feet. You felt immaculate, confident. And you were sure…he had seen you as you ran your hand up the banister.

You slowly moved around him. He hadn’t turned to look at you yet. A blonde woman was on his other side, whispering in his ear with her seductive rose lips. She was gorgeous, legs long and slender waist. Her dress was a deep burgundy red and her gloves black. She made you look like the frumpiest woman in the club.

You leant against the railing beside them at a respectful distance. You looked over the dance floor. You recognised local representative politicians mingling, kissing, all salacious actions that the average public would be shocked to witness. A Greenie with her tongue down a Nationalists throat.

From your side you could feel his eyes. You couldn't tell if August was glaring daggers, but you knew he had seen you.

Your fingers squeezed the railing tight.

You took a deep breath in and focused not to stutter, “Fancy seeing you here.”

You managed to angle your face his way. You prayed he wouldn't look at your hands, trembling on top of the metal bar.

He looked down at his glass cup. He turned away from his golden haired friend and smirked at you. The woman attached to his side flashed you a sickly fake smile. Her eyes were full of scornful judgement.

He chuckled lightly, eyes raking up and down your body in a way to made you feel like meat in the deli section.

“Well, I do own the club Miss Y/L/N or did you not read my name on the invitation?”

You curled your toes and strained a brave smile, “Oh of course, but business is always busy with men like you…”

You looked away from him briefly, trying to compose yourself. Your hands were starting to shake while your knees felt light. You swallowed hard and returned to face his predator eyes.

“Men like me?” He purred and turned his body to lean on the railing.

You nodded slowly, trying to find a way to answer him and continue the conversation.

“Men like you,” was all you could repeat back firmly. You could feel a line of sweat crawl down the back of your neck.

He chuckled and held his empty cup to his feminine companion.

“Natalie, be a dear and fetch me some Guinness and whatever you’d like.”

Natalie winked at him and gave a girlish laugh when he smacked her backside. You wanted to scoff but at the same time you pitied her. You were scared she would be his next sexual victim. She toddled down the stairs and August slid himself closer to you on the railing. His fingers fluttered and circled around your neck. It was too public a place for him to squeeze any tighter. He couldn’t kill you out here, it was too public. His fingers softly moved over the spot where your pulse sat.

“Why are you here?” He raised his brow to you as he purred, “How did you even get in, huh? I know you didn’t get the invitation…so…have you come to take some more photos? We could have a quick interview in my office if you’d like.”

His lips were amused, but his eyes were dark and annoyed. Annoyed with you.

You shuddered, you weren’t too interested in his offering, but you had to consider how much time Lloyd needed to gain incriminating information. Lloyd didn’t know you had your phone down the front of your dress. It was risky but you wanted to catch anything if the occasion arose.

Your glanced at him, your bottom lip trembled slightly, you nuzzled his hand that started to cup your cheek.

Lightly shaking your head you said calmly, “I got your photos…the envelope…so no photos tonight…”

He chuckled and leered down your chest before leaning in closer to your face moaning, “So…what have you come for?”

You were frustrated that Lloyd really thought you’d be able to do this….this improvisation was nearly impossible when you had to face a man with a mean face. It was the tension of your chest snapping, the breath you were holding broke in a breathy sigh which was close to a gasp.

“The party,” you lied, you leant closer and let your noses touch, “Just to party.”

You laid your hand on his chest and rubbed it in large low circles. The whiskey was warm in your cheeks. You felt daring. Your heart beating strong in your ears. Do it now or you might as well drown. You squeezed your eyes shut and tightened your insides as you pushed up and kissed his mouth. His moustache scratched your top lip as you forced yourself onto him. It was a hard lip pressing peck, you felt his hot breath fan your face. The smell of his malted breath mad a hot light sing in between your legs. Your heart was thundering in your chest,

His wide cold eyes bore into your soul and he chuckled, “You make such a fucking terrible liar.”

It was like he had punched you in the gut the way the air had left your body.

“August dear, I have your drink!” the ringing of Natalie’s voice had his head turned away and letting you go. You couldn’t think, you just stood there absolutely frozen.

August collected his new refreshment, taking an impressive gulp, and you watched him lean closer to the blonde, “The accounts are settled, you can piss off now Nat.”

Her false smile faltered into a malicious smirk. She winked at you before she fled back down the stairs and greeted another gentleman in a tuxedo. You felt sick.

August leant back and cupped your waist in his awfully huge hand, “Let’s take a walk.”

He smirked feeling the shiver roll down your back. His hand squeezed your fingers as he led you down the staircase. You frantically looked out to the room and dance floor. You hoped you might see Lloyd, you might call out for him to save you.

“Ever played Roulette?” he asked setting his empty Guinness on a passing waitress tray.

You shook your head and heard him chuckle, “Of course you haven’t, good girl like you hasn’t done many things at all.”

You were slightly offended by his wording no matter how much it might’ve been true deep down.

He put his hand back to your lower back and led you to the casino rooms. There were multiple tables with different games involving cards and chips. But there was a long table surrounded by at least twenty or thirty well dressed men with their arm candy super model women. At the end was a dealer with a long metal pole. He wore a golden coloured suit. He looked serious and when his eyes caught the sight of August that cold aura disappeared. A giant smile graced his cranky appearance.

“Want to join the game sir?” he asked, “We just finished a game.”

August smiled and said, “Yes, give me ten black chips, six purple and…” he sucked his teeth, “Six yellow.”

The dealer smiled and nodded, he handed his boss, your rapist, the eftpos machine before pushing some chips towards the edge of the table you both next to.

Your eyes widened. The black chips had the number of one hundred, the purple was five hundred and the pretty yellow chips were decorate with a one and three zeros. You had a wild guess that those digits were the amount of money he was putting on the table.

To August it was nothing.

The dealer was selling other chips to the players that were from the old game wanting to buy more while August groped your hip and pressed his nose to your ear, “Lets start off easy, pick, red or black.”

You looked at the table, there were numbers between zero and thirty six. Half the numbers were covered in red, the other half in black. Your mouth felt dry. You really didn’t know what you were doing.

“Bl-“ you cleared your throat as his hand cupped your backside under the table, “Black.”

He smiled, “Now pick, do you prefer even numbers or odd?”

You looked over the red squares and noticed how half looked odd and the other half was even, you weren’t sure if this would help or set you back.

“Odd numbers,” you whispered.

His breath was hot and his eyes were trapping you where you stood. You felt embarrassed to meet his looks.

“Dealer, One hundred on Black and one hundred on Odds.”

The dealer smirked, you knew that dealer knew this wasn’t really Augusts choice.

He spun the wheel that had a metal ball tapping along inside. Round and round the crimson and black. The ball landed onto black thirty five. You held your breath.

“And now,” August purred, “You’ve just won an extra two hundred dollars pup.”

The light in your chest bloomed with excitement, the butterflies rained like a storm in your belly. You were amazed at how it was to win so quickly…but then what if it was red even that won? Or just black and even? Would you have lost it all? Half? You were tickled with curiosity to learnt this grown up game. Two new black chips along with the original were pushed back to you. August thick fingers stacked them on top of each other in a bundle.

“Lets play again, now…see those top numbers, one to twelve, thirteen to twenty four, twenty five to thirty six?” he said, gesturing to the top of the red and black chart against the green fuzzy felt of the table.

“Pick one of those three groups.”

You sucked in a breath and tried to strategize….you had more numbers in the two boxes. You didn’t want to risk less numbers more chance of losing…

“One to twelve?” you said, his large hand rubbed on your ass pressing you closer to the table edge.

“Dealer, a purple chip on the one twelve,” he said cooly not even looking at the dealer this time as he said it. You wanted to know what he was thinking as he stared right down into your skull.

“Yes sir,” said the dealer pushing the five hundred chip over the dozen number group,

“Spin hockey,” August barked and clapped his hands.

And the bowl with a ball spun. it settled on number five. The table players groaned as their games were losing. Luck of the gods must’ve been over you tonight…

“And now you’ve won an extra thousand dollars,” he hummed.

The damn game made no sense except you were happy to be winning. You didn’t expect the fear you got from being in Augusts palm mixed with the joy of winning at gambling would make you aroused and wanting.

The yellow chip was pushed to you and you daringly picked it up. It was pretty, the emboss was August Lion symbol.

“Now…see those three columns that say two to one? There’s a right, middle and left. Pick one,” he plucked the chip from your curious fingers.

“Right,” you bravely exclaim. August laughed and turned to the dealer who had gotten back to your turn, “You heard the lady, yellow on right column.”

The chip was planted and the wheel spun once more…landing on black eleven…a middle column. And just like that, a thousand dollars gone…All the warmth left your body. Now you understood a gambling drop felt worse than the gambling high. His hand snuck it’s way across your lower belly. He moved you closer into his side. His hot breath fanned over you neck.

He tutted at you, “See the risk? Got all the blood rushing, didn’t it and now you’re feeling that punch of loss?”

You slowly shook your head, agreeing. Thank fuck it wasn’t your money or the money Lloyds' had given you. So far you’d at least made August a two hundred dollars profit from the original ten thousand he bought out.

August held your hips and pressed you back into his crotch. He wasn’t hard but you could feel his warm body heat and the shape of his soft cock in his pants.

His mouth purred along the shell of your ear, “Now, Puppy, choose one number.”

He was standing behind you, trapping you against the table flushed. None of the other players took notice and if they did they didn’t care. Because maybe they didn’t know what type of monster this monster could be.

“N-nineteen,” you stuttered, choosing your age might be a safer option.

“Tell the dealer,” he whispered.

You swallowed. You felt hot and a foul arousal between your thighs. You thought about the time you played Pool with August. Your first kiss...

“Nineteen please sir,” you said to the gold suited man.

“Chip type?”

August whispered like he was telling you the dirtiest secret, “Tell him you’re all in.”

You repeat the term and made it sound like a question. You had a feeling you knew what it meant after watch movies ‘Bounty Hunter’ with Jennifer ashton and Gerald Butler. The dealer glanced at August and smirked, “All in number nineteen.”

The long metal pole came out and scooped up all your chips to the nineteen box.

When the ball began to spin inside the wheel your belly twisted and your hands desperately squeezed Augusts. You remembered there was at least ten thousand two hundred dollars on the number and you were truly risking losing all his money. You damn well knew that Lloyd didn’t give you that much and there’s be no way to pay August back.

Your eyes ran round and round the wheel, you held your breath as the metal ball landed and bounced between the numbers. You felt weak in the knees. The wheel slowed and you nearly vomited from anticipation alone managing to force your arse harshly back into August you sound and desperately buried your face into his expensive cologne soaked shirt. You worried and bit your lip hard as the clattering silver ball stopped and the wheel paused.

You could imagine the dealers face peering down into the black and red bowl of fortunes and curses, debts and dreams.

“Congratulations little lady in front row, number Nineteen, you have won three million five hundred and seven thousand dollars,” said the dealer over an excited cheering crowd.

You swore you misheard, your knees wobbled as you dared to look up at Augusts grinning face. You looked over your shoulder and true to the dealers word, that silver ball sat in the groove of red painted with the number nineteen. All the air was drained from your lips. You could’ve fainted. You couldn’t believe it. Out of all the bad luck in your life, this felt truly unbelievable. You wished your father was here to see this. You started to smile...and then the squealing crawled out of your throat. You jumped up and down on your feet, your fingers squeezed Augusts arm tightly. The buzz inside you was wild. Your adrenaline was jumping out of adrenaline was jumping out of our throat. You knew the money wasn’t yours. It was Augusts but knowing that you’d managed to win that much by chance sent the greatest wave of euphoria.

“I won! I won! I won!” tears prickles your eyes and you cupped your mouth.

August smiled into your cheek and chuckled softly, “Yes, you did.” His moustache scratched against your cheek, he smelt like Guinness and felt like total warmth on a cold night. His thumb rubbed beneath your arm near the space of your ribs and breast.

The dealer couldn’t give you that many chips but digitally sent a code with the prize to August as owner of the card that bought the chips in the first place.

August laughed and spun you around on your feet, he tugged you away from the roulette table towards the dance floor where a slow dance was taking place to the sombrous tones of Frank Sinatra.

“Oh my god, I did that, I can’t believe I just did that,” you muttered happily in a daze, a high. You suddenly forgot entirely everything that August had done to you in the past few weeks. You forgot your entire purpose of why you were even there. His charming face was beaming in pride.

His warm lips pecked your forehead and cheek, he repeated, “Yes, you did.”

“I mean I know it’s your money but just the thrill of just- my god,” you sucked in a new breath of air and sighed, “Thankyou for letting me experience that.”

He hummed and swayed your bodies together slowly. He could’ve picked you up and carried you away and you weren’t sure if you would’ve protested.

“My money?” he chuckled, “I can right you a cheque if you’d really like. Bank it tomorrow.”

You scoffed in disbelief, you shook your head at him, “Don’t be mean August, like you’d just give me three million dollars, be fucking for real.”

He pinched your bottom making you hiss lightly as you danced in his arms and he scolded teasingly, “Language.”

You threw your head back and giggled. You were still riding the drunk high of life.

“Welcome to bloody Australia Mister Walker,” you tapped a finger on his chest, his suit felt so smooth and expensive like silk instead of basic cotton, “Where we say all kinds of things casually; Ass, cunt, fuck, bitch, bastard and so on.”

He bent you backwards and cradled your spine as his lips pressed up into your jaw and neck, “Oh fret not, I’ll discipline it out of you. I’d rather have you speaking like a true lady who cares about her appearance.”

You scoffed again and rolled your eyes. You didn’t give a flying care in the world what he thought about a true lady. He wasn’t a true gentleman. You pushed a little away from him.

The high of life became dangerous impulsive boldness, “Why? So I can teach you that true gentleman don’t drug and rape women?”

A few heads turned at your words out of the thousands dancing and gambling around you. His jolly gaze turned black and ice. His frown was deep and displeasure greatly obvious. He looked ready to kill you...

The shudder in your chest returned. It was like a bucket of icy water dunking over your head. That glare made you sober and sheepish. You pushed away gently and smoothed your dress out.

“I...I need to pee.”

You didn’t actually, yet the fear consumed you enough, blanketing over you and you needed an escape from the danger you had willingly nosed dived into. It was the only explanation for you to flee briefly and compose yourself for more of his aggression.

His hands were tight on your wrists.

“August, I’m sorry...please let me go to the loo.”

He let you go, and muttered, “It’s upstairs, be quick, we need to talk.”

You hissed when the blood pumped back into your flesh, you felt your wrists throb in rings. Stepping backwards shakily you almost fell back into a passing waiter. It felt impossible to remove your eyes from him, to make sure he wasn’t following you.

You could feel him watching you as you kept walking to those stairs. Up the grand stairs you scurried away from him for the seconds he was distracted looking away from you, grabbing a new drink.

Just find the ladies toilet and he can’t come in right?

Your head was pounding. Breathless and flushed you didn’t look at the signs on doors. You didn’t even need the bathroom, honestly, you just needed to sit down.

Relief filled you as you looked behind. You couldn’t see August and knew he still wasn’t following you. You leant against a door and turned the handle hoping out of all these doors, this would be a toilet.

When you fell inside. You noted the room was empty…but there was also no toilet…instead there was a couch to your left and to your right a massive wall with a control panel and TVs lining the wall…on the televisions were colourful pictures moving, replaying the events of the party…they were the viewpoints of cameras…security.

You were in the security room!

With widened eyes you closed the door behind you entirely and awed at the stuff you were watching…

There wasn’t just one party going on tonight.

The screen showed the rest of the club you hadn’t had the pleasure of observing. The back stages dancers change room, the full game slot casino, a smokers room where a stripper was sucking some random man off. Your stomach twisted.

There were men sniffing coke off a woman’s thigh. Other people in another room were injecting each other with heroin.

There was a room auctioning paintings and appeared to be a business meeting. Multiple men were sitting on couches and bar stools watching while a stunning woman in the middle waving at expensive items…. Katarina Vikander. She wore a stunning green gown that hugged her body, around her neck was a thick row of diamonds, she looked like an old Hollywood actress.

You stepped closer to the screen and traced the figures of people and faces you recognised. There were even famous local politicians. Your mouth felt dry. You knew it was a simple auction but the items were familiar, they were museum pieces. There were items that morally speaking belonged to the indigenous Meanjin people. It was a inexplicable scandal.

Then there was Lloyd! He was sitting beside an older man with the bald head and beady eyes. In that man’s lap was a young woman with dark flowing hair in a very short dress, definitely young enough to be his granddaughter. yuck!

It was a room of gentlemen and their own weapons to show off. Guns and blades you were confident weren’t even allowed to be sold in Australia after the Port Arthur Massacre. There were tommy guns and automatic rifles. There were trench knives and a urban skinner daggers. Things you’d only seen in movies.

You pulled out your phone and started taking photos of the screens. They would be bad quality photos, not well enough to publish to the press but it didn’t matter, evidence was still important. August was willingly allowing this in his club and on the unlikely chance he wasn’t, it was still occurring in his club, he’d be responsible.

You thought about the amount of people these guns and knives could or had already killed. You clicked some more and quickly sat in the empty chair. There was a couch behind you, you noted the strange red splatter stains over the cushions. You took another picture. You didn’t want to consider if it was blood because that lead to the question of whose blood it was...you shuddered.

No wonder he didn’t appear as excited as you when you won the three million dollars…he probably made that in a week from profits out of these illegal auctions.

You held your breath and watched the screens further.

Soon Lloyd would bust the club. He’d call back up and the floor would go wild. Now it was a matter of waiting. Any minute now, you bet.

You took photos of the men doing drugs with the strippers and the gambling and finally the bar. You wondered how much of the alcohol would’ve been watered down to save money. It even clicked to wonder if the club even had a license to sell alcohol while the casino was open.

You were checking the photos and perched yourself on the couch when the door opened. You gasped and dropped your phone on the ground with a loud clatter.

The looming shadow entered the dark room. It was him…August…he stood inside and closed the door, away from the party, silencing the booming hustle and bustle.

“No photos tonight?” his brows lifted and a smile spread while he tutted, “Oh my sweet girl, you’re breaking daddy’s heart.”

You leant down and grabbed the phone again and shoved it into your clutch purse.

“I-I wasn’t using my c-camera…” you poorly lied.

You stood up spritely and tried to find away around him. He leant against the door, blocking your escaped. His eyes rolled from the screens back to you.

He flashed a sinister fanged smile and shook his head, “Oh no, no, I think it’s about time we chat little Miss Y/N…don’t you?”

You pouted and snarled, “Get out of my way August.”

He shook his head again and sucked his teeth, “Tell me why you really came tonight, and I will.”

You gulped. You clenched your first and said louder, “Get out of my way August or I’ll fucking scream and I’ll make a damn scene.”

He stood in silence for three solid seconds before nodding.

He moved away from the door but as you tried to pass him reaching for the doorhandle, he grabbed your waist and hauled you back. You were launched back across the floor and landed hard and sharp on the carpet. The air was knocked from your lungs and your hands lost grip of your clutch.

Gaining your bearings quickly, you shrieked and cowered. You raised your hands and shuddered. You were so sure he was going to punch and kick you, instead a soft strong hand curled over your wrist and tugged you to your knees.

“Come here,” he softly murmured, while he gently made you crawl over to the couch. On the cushions he sat before he pulled you into his thick lap. Your legs were trapped between his, while you were held on his lap.

You felt so small, so weak. His hands were warm, and strong, you were growing sore as your body overcame the shock of him throwing you back into the room. It made you feel terrified at how simply he was able to manhandle you. All those weeks without his presence had somehow made you forget how deadly and scary he could be. And despite being in his club, in a public place, he still had the upperhand and power to take what he wanted.

Your body shook as his hands touched you. He was so calm…it was unsettling and struck icily in your blood. This was the August you met that afternoon two weeks ago. This is the August that duct taped you and forced you to cum in your fathers recliner chair.

“You wearing any wires baby?” He cooed as his hand stuck down your dress top and another slipped up your thighs. You didn’t fight, but your fingers pleadingly hooked into his shirt sleeve while his hand dug around and slid around your breasts, groping your soft flesh.

His hand the groped around your thighs and lingered when cupping near your underwear. A stream of sweat trailed your face, what if he felt how wet you were in your underwear?

You shook your head and pitifully whimpered, “N-no, just the ph-phone in my bag.”

His lips pressed against your shoulder and neck before finally going to your ear, “This is what’s going to happen…” he purred, “You’re going to be my good girl and do everything I tell you, or else I’m going kill your piggy friend.”

You gasped as his fingers rubbed at your underwear covered clit.

“Wh-what?!”

“Yes poppet, I know about him,” he chuckled and sucked on your earlobe loudly, “He’s not very smart, coming here…his wire, he’s wearing…it’s not going to pick up anything.”

Your eyes dared to glance at the cameras, Lloyd was still on the screen, still watching the auction.

August moved his mouth to your other ear and moved your underwear aside, his finger easily slipped inside of you, tearing a whine from your lips at how wet you were.

“Has he fucked you yet?” He mocked, “Has the piggy touched what’s mine? Stuffed that dirty cock in this pretty puppy pussy?”

You choked on a rising sob, “No, now please st-stop.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks, tears August kissed away softly. You were watching the screens, Lloyd was looking around the room from the chair he was sitting in. Someone handed him a drink. You didn’t know what he was saying as he laughed at someone. You just wanted him to call back up, before you potentially were raped again.

August paused and slipped in another thick finger, “So…you thought you’d help him? Think I’d be so blind? It breaks my heart that either of you thought I was that dumb. This whole time I’ve been telling myself you weren’t a threat, just a dumb little girl…but that’s not entirely true huh? Miss picture perfect, taking photos she fucking well shouldn’t be.”

Your whimpered and wept with salty tears that stung hard. You heard him shuffle as he propped you onto one knee. A moment later, something hard and cold touched your cheek. You were certain this was your fault. You didn’t distract him enough, instead you ran off like a cowered. You sobbed and found it difficult to breathe seeing what that hard object in the corner of your eye was. If you weren’t so scared you might’ve screamed…

“Did you wear this for me baby?” He asked, rubbing your cheek with the warm tip of the gun, “Awfully pretty, awfully expensive for someone like you.”

Your eyes fell down at the dress you’d bought earlier that day. God you regretted it all now, all the excitement you felt buying it for tonight, it was all backfiring. You bought it knowing this was something he might want, it made you feel rich and sensual. It was your shield of confidence, ironic how a shield means nothing compared to a gun pressed to your head.

“Yes,” you wailed, “Please just let us go.”

“Us?” He scoffed scornfully, “And you’re telling me, you’re not fucking him.”

His fingers curled harshly and pinched your inner walls, cupping and shaking your entire cunt in his hand roughly.

You whined and choked, “it’s- n-not his faul- fault…I’m…I’m-”

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell silent…Jesus fucking Christ. August was covered in a hot wet warmth. He grunted, slowly, he removed his two thick fingers out of your pussy and shook his hand of the wet liquid pouring out with three large wrist flicks.

Mortified, a blubbering fest left you mouth. A line of ‘’please” and “sorry” poured desperately out of you.

Your piss puddled the floor down to his shoes.

You had half expected him to throw you off or kill you in disgust. Instead, August hissed a little as the warm liquid soaked over his trousers. You flinched away. He put his gun back in his pocket.

He laughed darkly, “You are so silly huh? So goddamn innocent,” his wet head cupped your neck and clenched your jaw, “I think I’ve amused you long enough baby, I think it’s time I show you why you were put in my care.”

You fluttered your wet eyes at him, “Please just let Lloyd go,” you swallowed a gulp of air, “I’ll do whatever you want.”

You gagged at the acidic smell of your own urine on his hand burning into your nose. His tongue clicked and he wagged his other finger at you.

“You’re about to see what happens to shits who think to try and bring me and my friends down, go on sunshine, look at the TV’s.”

His hand jerked your head forward. You were forced to watch everything happening in the room where Lloyd was. Within seconds, there were two security guards dragging in a limping man over a giant square of tarp.

“This dumb piece of shit decided to double dip my profits in a club I own down in Sydney…dickhead thought to embezzle me…I don’t like when men take what’s mine…”

The struggling man had a black pillow case shoved over his head. He was pushed to his knees in front of Brandon Sullivan who held a gun he took out from the briefcase. Katarina stood away from the centre of the room and watch him with the brightest smile.

The gun from the suitcase wasn’t particularly impressive. It was a hand gun with an ivory hilt. American.

The barrel was pressed to the pillow case. Your eyes widened.

Your bottom lip fell, “Wait please no, he can’t, stop-”

It was two little light flickers from the tip of the weapon, the bag flutter backwards as the man’s brains were blown through. It wasn’t like the movies. His body just flopped and slammed down on the floor and in seconds the blue tarp was rolled up and dragged away, no time for the blood to soak into the auction room carpet.. Brandon put the gun down and clapped his hands.

Lloyd didn’t flinch…his eyes hid inside his cup.

You gagged and bent your head opening your mouth above Augusts spread knees, the floor not only covered in your urine was also granted a haul of your bile. The whiskey you finished from Lloyds cup came back up hard burning your throat.

Why wasn’t Lloyd arresting them there and then? Why didn’t he leave to call back up?

You trembled watching the detective standup and walk over to order a drink at a private bar. He was so vulnerable standing in the den. And he was wearing a wire that wasn’t even working and you couldn’t tell him. You were helpless, Lloyd was helpless.

“I could kill him right now if I wanted to…” August cooed as you sobbed with the shock of seeing a real person killed in front of your eyes on screen.

You wailed and turned your body away. Buring your face into his shoulder and begged, “Please don’t hurt him, please, dear god. I’ll do whatever you want!”

“Anything?” He sarcastically gasped.

Your whimpered, “Yes!”

He was laughing and humming while he was toying with what he’d do to you. He bounced his knee you were on forcing you to land hard on your crotch and gasping everytime your clit made contact with his thigh and knee.

When he stopped, he pinched your wet inner thigh, “Call me Daddy you piss soaked slut.”

You nodded and tried to slow your meltdown, “O-okay d-daddy, I will.”

“Are you sorry for trying to trick me, whore?” He said harshly.

Your chin shook as you choked out, “S-so sorry daddy. Please forgive me.”

He liked that with how he grunted and moaned.

“I guess I should huh? You come in here, looking for dirt, but you win me gold.”

He pushed you off his lap. You were scared and embarrassment. The feeling of the wet that ran down your legs was drying up, yet the puddle that was drying up was huge. The scent was pungent. Your legs were weak and wobbly. You stumbled and grabbed your clutch with your phone inside.

You heard him clear his throat and flinched when he stated, “We are going back to my office. I have wipes, and spare clothes.”

That would’ve sounded nice except you knew better, you knew he’d just rape you in there…and with these sketchy men in the auction room you could only imagine what else August had business in. Human trafficking on top of all these other crimes wouldn’t have entirely surprised you.

You needed to find a way to get away. Since Lloyd still hadn’t gotten the back up he promised, you knew you would need to abandon him too. Guilt filled your belly, you worried for the cop’s safety, but it came to the dilemma…would you risk this for the chance to save his life, or save yourself and pack up and run for it with the cash he had given you. The amount of money in your clutch could buy you a ticket up north all the way to Townsville. You hardly could imagine a British man like August in the sweltering heat of northern Queensland…only issue? It was a perfect place to hide a body. Sugar cane fields were burned daily up there. If you wanted to dump a body, it would be perfect and convenient…you thought about moving in the opposite direction to New South Wales. The Blue Mountains had a cult you had heard of, maybe they could hide you from him.

“Y/N,” August broke you from your thoughts, he touched your chin and matched your gaze, “Did you hear me? I’m going to clean you up, sort you out.”

You took a ragged breath in and nodded, “Y-yes da-dad-" you gulped loudly, "daddy.”

He smirked and pressed his mouth to yours, pulling back with a sigh, he murmured, “That’s a good girl.”

He placed his hand on your back and moved you forward to the entrance door.

Your fingers reached out and touched the handle. Your other hand was clenching your bag tightly. It was only a door…But the knob turned, and you were faster than him. You slammed it shut behind you when you rushed out the door. You raced and shoved people aside. You heard him rip and bang the door open. You felt his heavy feet chasing behind you.

You felt so fucked! Your heart was palpating, and your thighs were chaffing with that sour smell of your pee dress soaked. You almost slipped down the stairs but managed to get to the bottom before seeing him starting to run down from the top.

Guests were staring but who cared? The party was wild and many just giggled thinking it was a big game.

It wasn’t a game though, truly you believed now he was going to kill you and Lloyd if you didn’t get out now. You had no idea where that auction room was hidden. You could grab him and bolt. These seconds were precious, and you just needed to get out onto the street.

You got to the bar and as you ran forward, you saw the fire alarm off the side. You slammed a fist down hard and bolted for the exit. Sprinklers went off wild, the rain made the party wet and all the main lights activate blinding half of the club. The other guests became frantic hearing the chance of a fire happening. Everyone was starting to rush out of the club with you. You swore and hoped that Lloyd was going to be able to get out safely too.

There was no way you’d be able to go home tonight. You were a dead woman walking with the content of your phone and the murder you witnessed. You tried to find an uber driving past but the fear that August was behind you made you keep moving.

You kept running even as you got outside in the cold air. The sound of car horns and lights of the streets were chaotically plaguing your mind. You didn’t have a clue where you were running. You just kept going. There were roads totally dead and quiet, you ran across without pressing any walking buzzers. You needed to find safety. Your feet raced down pavement paths until they hit the soft dewy grass of the park. The parkour park was near the train lines, you could hear the rattling wheels and noisy horn of a passenger train go through, leaving it impossible to tell if someone was following you… But you heard could him, you swore you could hear his catching breath and hear those leather shoes sprinting behind you.

You squealed in the dark as your ran past an empty children’s playground. He was big and he was fast. You felt his hand in the air trying to grab you and successfully you dodged him. You rushed down a street of abandoned shops and tripped over a groove in the ground that you missed in the ground.

And that’s how this all started don’t you see? Don’t you remember?...

A rush of air sucked out from your lungs as your hands and knees collided with the gravel pavement. Your stupid kitten heel snapped and your handbag had flown a couple metres in front of you.

Your heart thudded against your ribs as you poorly attempted to catch your anxious breath.

“Dumb. Very stupid. I perceived you to be smarter than this…” his voice dripped into your burning hot ears.

He was behind you, you knew that…with his hands in his suit pockets. His expensive leather shoes crunched on the rocky path the closer he neared you.

You hissed when the chilly night air whistled against your cut up palms. Blood rose up from your skin, shining in the light of the city lamp. You flinched as his two fingers traced along your spine and pressed harshly down on the back of your neck.

With watery eyes, you watched him walk pass and collect your handbag. His lithe fingers dove inside and pulled out the phone. His lips pursed as he let it fall from his hand before crushing it under his foot.

The salty tears raced down your cheeks, gliding into your trembling mouth.

If only you could’ve screamed for help. If only there was someone in the park to see what had unfolded.

A hiccup escaped you and he softly cooed, “It’s alright now, I think it’s about time you received an education, my darling.”

You shook your head and felt the rise of bile in your throat.

“Please,” you begged with a rasp voice, “I won’t tell anyone. Let me go. I swear I won’t go to the police, just let me go!”

He tutted his tongue and wagged his finger. He crouched down, his soft hand combed into your sweat soaked hair and tugged your head up. Your eyes met his icy gaze.

Hopelessness filled you. Begging had fallen on deaf ears.

“That’s right, you won’t tell anyone…but I’m not finished with you yet.”

As a gasp lifted from your lips he chuckled, “You’re precious if you think I’m letting you go after seeing that.”

His cold palm grabbed the sides of your throat and began to choke you. As the oxygen was restricted, your little hands clawed desperately at his callous hand. Your feet flailed against the gravel. Tears raced down your face. It was impossible to scream out without any air to cry with. With every passing second, a dizzy blanket was clouding your mind and filling your eyes with black spots. His glare made your knees buckle. Exhaustion from fighting was taking over, your nails left his hands, your eyes were finding it difficult to stay open. Eventually your lashes shut, and you let your mind drown in the airless space of time....

Unknown...Unknown...August 2024, Brisbane.

You thought he had killed you. You genuinely believed as the blood pulverised your skull, he had choked you to death.

You felt cold and hungry…the smell of hot Chinese food woke you up.

You curled up in a tight ball, hugging your naked body. Your couldn’t see anything. Your face had been blind folded. Your mouth was chewing on something long, some type of rubbery gag. And around your neck you felt a tight squeeze and the bite of a chain…a collar? Your fingers tried to pull them off but they were tied around your head and you felt the cold shape of padlock..

The carpet scuffed.

Someone was in the room, getting up from a chair. You heard a masculine breath and you trembled covering your chest and cupping your last as your curled back up in a ball.

You were laying on a soft blanket and mattress.

You whined as a warm human finger raced down your arm and the hand splayed out over your skin.

“Good morning, pet…I’m glad I was here to see you wake up,” you heard August moan.

You felt his fuzzy moustache tough the corner of your gaged lips.

You flinched and rubbed your face into the pillows above you.

The chain moved and taunted you backwards until you sat up so you could breathe.

His hand touched your inner thigh, you felt the bed tilt to his weight.

“I bet you’re hungry, I could hear your tummy growl for quite some time before you woke up.”

You felt his fingers unlock the gag and pull it down your chin.

You gasped and enjoyed the ability to breathe properly again. You were still stuck in total darkness however.

You heard a fork clinking with a bowl. You could hear August blow on the hot food and were told to open up.

Your lips parted and your tongue was touched by the greasy goodness of Chinese honey chicken.

You chewed and tore off the meat from his fork.

“Another,” he said as he fed you some more.

Your hands reached out to hold the fork yourself before you heard him casual say, “Keep those paws down, I haven’t given you permission to use them.”

Your might’ve been blindfolded but you knew he was looking at your body. You lifted your knees up to your chin and tapped your arms around your legs.

A cold bottle of water was pushed to your lips and your mouth greedily suckled it down. You knew it could be laces with drugs but your mouth was dry and you knew you were dehydrated.

You gaspingly asked as the bottle was pulled away, “Are you going to kill me?”

You didn’t want to die but it wasnt your choice. You knew this process would be quicker and easier if you allowed death to come…you would rather die than have to succumb to rape.

“No puppy…not today.”

You didn’t feel relief. Actually you felt your chest shake as you tried to hold back your crying.

Your heard him out the fork down and felt him come onto the bed. He pulled you into his arms and let you sob. He rubbed your back and hushed you gently.

It took everything in you to not fight him…you sagged into his touch and let him hold and rock you until you composed your tears.

You should fight him…if he’s going to kill you…go out with a fight.

“Would you like some more food?” He asked and you meekly nodded, “Yes please.”

He tutted and softly scolded, “That’s not how we ask now is it?”

You couldn’t see him but your fist flew up and caught him in his shoulder, “If you th-think I’m going to call you ‘daddy’…you’re fucking nuts!”

And you truly readied yourself for the beating of a lifetime…rather…his fingers moved up and unlocked your blindfold, pulling it off your head.

You winced as the bright light of day pelted your eyes…

He was sitting on the bed. A long button up shirt with rolled up sleeves and dress pants still wearing his leather shoes. His fingers pinched your chin.

“Still want to be a bad girl?”

You realised he expected an answer. And bravely your jerked your chin away.

“You can rape me, cut me, kill me...I’m not calling you fucking ‘daddy’!” You slapped his hand away and crawled to the other side of the bed feebly. You shrieked as he slapped your naked ass hard and laughed.

“That’s alright… I’ll talk to you again in a few more hours.”

He pushed you down and slapped your hands. He put the blind fold and the gag back on. He took the cup and Chinese food away….he left you…vulnerable and nude on the bed. Alone with your thoughts for the next few hours.

Unknown...Unknown...August 2024, Brisbane

He left you blind folded for hours right? Or was it just thirty minutes? You couldn’t tell…blind folded and gagged. You could move your arms and blindly crawl around the bed but the chain would grow taunt if you tried to climb off the mattress. You considered hanging yourself…would it have been easier to just let him find your corpse then wait to be raped?

You rolled around and felt around the covers. You were helpless and scared. For all you knew he could’ve been watching you quietly.

Your crying was muffled with the gag between your teeth. Drool dropped down your chin and dribbled to your chest. You kept wiping it up feeling revolted with yourself.

You tugged and pulled the chain, yet no freedom was granted in your attempts. You grew tired, the panic in your chest exhausted you.

Hesitantly you pulled the duvet back and wiggled yourself in between the massive pillows, you fell asleep…and it was daunting.

It didn’t help that you couldn’t tell when you drifted off to sleep and the first thing you saw was dad. He was coming home from work and you were in the lounge room flicking through the tv channels. When you saw him come through the door your were scared it was August, but seeing your dad made your heart burst with joy. Relief and peace clouded your mind.

“it was all a bad dream!” You said as you got off the couch and raced to hug your father. He was never much of a hugger, that was okay…

His hand pat your back and you sobbed, “It was so awful dad! I thought you had died, everyone said you were dead but I knew there was no way. Thank god it was just a bad drea-”

He was skinny …you hugged him tight …why did he feel so hard and sharp around his body?

“Dad, I missed you,” you licked your lips, “come on I’ll make you something to eat, why are you so thin?” You moved your head back and screamed. His work shirt was stained in blood and his skin and muscle were rotting off his body. His cheeks were hallow and the tip of his nose was gone. His eyes totally white. A slice settle on his face. He opened his mouth slowly to speak and a rotting tongue rolled out over his chin.

You kept screaming and saying “No!” Over and over again. You moved backwards and fell over on a bowl of porridge. His body fell forward on top of yours.

You couldn’t breathe from the fear. The dream went dark in shadows and it clicked that perhaps you’d woken up. But you weren’t entirely sure. You kicked your legs and curled up in a ball. You wailed and hiccupped. The gag in your mouth brought your mind back to where you were. Where you’d been trapped. You hit the mattress over and over in frustration and anger.

“Lmph ma gaoh!” let me go, you howled.

Your knees trembled and you felt nauseas. You shook your head, trying to fight the vomit that could be rising to your chest. You knew if you vomited it would go everywhere and some might stay inside your mouth or throat or up into your nose.

You whimpered, “Peaff!” Please!

Your body tightened…you felt your bowels grow sore and your bladder tight.

Dread filled your mind with the harsh reality that if you don’t get off the bed you were going to be sitting in your own fluids. It cracked your mind….it broke your own heart…you started to scream knowing what your kidnapper wanted to hear..

“Daffy! Peaf half mah!” Daddy please help me, you bawled over and over while your legs crossed tightly and you tried to hold in your bowels. Your toes curled and your acrylic nails dug deep into the skin of your palm. You scolded yourself for letting at service woman Drew to convince getting your nails done.

It was agony, holding in for so long. Your hands cupped yourself in hopes to stop any form of self leaking.

But after the fifth or sixth begging sob…you felt his presence return. It was like he never left, you didn’t hear his feet walk over to you, you only felt his hands…he unlocked you from the chain and guided you to the guest toilet. He took off your gag and your mouth slackened. The drool that hit your feet and floor with a splat made your shoulders curl in humiliating embarrassment.

You were sat on the toilet seat. You knew he stood waiting. It made you feel worthless and disrespected, the lack of privacy as he watched you push your bladder and bowels.

And that wasnt even the worst of it.

Reaching for toilet paper to the side of you, your hands were slapped away. You heard the roll move and a quick tear. You held out your hand to take it but his hand touched your thick and you twisted away, choking on a sob….the sick fucker wouldn’t let you wipe your own body... As he wiped the piss, you grabbed his wrist and tried to tug him away from your intimates.

“I’m not a baby,” you croaked quietly. You heard him hum, “I can do it myself”

“I know you’re not a baby…I just want to remind you this body belongs to me,” he murmured as he flushed the toilet paper away and you heard his hands wash under the running water of the sink.

Your knees bounced with anxious impatience. What was he planning to do to you?

He got you to your feet and guided you back. When the tiles became carpet you guessed you were being put back onto the bed.

He locked the chain back to the collar and whispered into your temple, “Just a moment.” You felt him move away and heard him drag something heavy from under the bed. Your stomach dropped and thought the worst.

He’s grabbing power tools…he’s going to chop and stab and beat me up and then dice me up into tiny pieces, you but your lips and let your tears flow.

“Wh-what’ are you going to do to m-me?” You dared to ask the maniac millionaire.

You flinched at his echoing chuckle, “Just tie you up for now, but let’s see where that takes us? You were talking in your sleep, did you know you do that?”

Your shoulders shook and you curled. You moved back to the head of the bad and clenched the fabric tightly. You felt him dropping things on the bed. His torture tools….

“Please don’t do this,” you tried to beg, “I haven’t done anything wrong. I just want to go h-home please.”

You hated the weakness in your voice. A part of you was angry and demanding you to claw his eyes out and fight to the death. You just weren’t sure what was the right thing to do anymore. What was the least painful.

Warm fingers brushed along your shoulder, and you gasped a little too loudly, he laughed.

“Easy now, I’m just taking off the blindfold, or would you prefer I leave it on?”

Your eyes watered under the fabric, your voice broke out into a whimper, "Off please..."

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

#TNOSP #august walker x black!reader #august walker x ofc #august walker x you #august walker x reader #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dark!august walker #dark!henry cavill #milky fics #Spotify

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 2 months

Text

Sugar Mama Chapter 3

Summary: Bucky is overworked and struggling to get by. The bills are piling up and he’s consistently in the red with no end in sight. Y/N is a billionaire’s daughter, entrepreneur and philanthropist having a hard time finding true friends or love. She has a proposition for him.

bucky barnes x curvy!reader

Warnings: eventual smut, sexual assault (not from Bucky)

The next day Bucky called Steve and invited him and Peggy to the burlesque club with him and Y/N. Steve sounded skeptical still, but accepted the invitation. “I look forward to meeting the boss,” he said. Bucky rolled his eyes but was happy he accepted.

As they got ready later that night Bucky found himself wearing an outfit that he would have had to save for over a year to afford. Y/N had bought him some nicer clothes for going out and he was looking rather dapper in a black suit jacket, a black turtleneck, black jeans and black boots. She had mentioned something about liking his facial hair so he trimmed it instead of shaving. As he zhuzhed his hair in his bathroom he heard her come out of her room.

“Are you ready Bucky?” Y/N called out from the hallway.

“Yeah I’ll be right there,” Bucky said, finally feeling okay with the state of his hair. As he walked out of his room, through the kitchen and into the front room he stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on Y/N. She was wearing a flowy kaftan dress that was covered in different metallic layers of white, silver and a champagne color. There were high slits on both legs showing her thighs peaking out as she walked. She had black strappy heels on her feet making her three inches taller, and he noticed her toenails matched the champagne color on her dress. Her hair was pulled atop her head in a bun that had pieces pulled out meticulously that framed her face and brushed her neck, and small gold and diamond hoops in her ears. She turned to him as he entered and gave him a whistle as she looked him up and down.

“Wow, Buck, you look…I have no words,” she said as she walked towards him. “I’m sorry if it makes me sound thirsty but you look ravishing, baby.”

Bucky’s cheeks felt hot as he blushed at her compliments and the pet name. He gave her a shy smile. “Thank you. You look amazing, Y/N,” he said as he gave her a once over as well.

She gave him a beaming smile. “Thank you. I have something for you,” she turned back towards where her small purse and leather jacket sat on the couch. She rummaged under the jacket and pulled out a box. “I hope you like it,” she said as she plopped the box into his hand.

Bucky gave her a suspicious look, making her laugh, before opening the lid. His eyebrows shot up as he found himself staring at a gold signet ring with some engraved designs on the sides and a square white diamond set in the middle.

“I hope it fits,” Y/N said quietly.

Bucky pulled out the ring and fitted it to his right middle finger. “Jesus, Y/N, this is too much.”

“It’s not enough for you, baby,” Y/N cooed at him as she took his right hand and inspected the ring on his finger. “It suits you.” She quickly pulled him towards the elevator. “Let’s get going. We don’t want to miss your friends.”

After a short ride to the burlesque club the town car pulled up to the VIP express line. Bucky quickly got out of the car and held his hand out for Y/N, who took it and seemed to visibly change in front of the cameras that started clicking as she came out. Her relaxed demeanor was now charismatic, a smirk on her face as she faced the cameras and gave them a cocked eyebrow. She looped her arm around Bucky’s back as he faced the cameras with her, unsure of what to do other than smile and try to not be blinded by the flashing lights. A moment later she pulled him towards the front door of “Neon” as the photographers called her name and she waved to some of the people in the regular line who called out to her as well.

“Bucky! Buck!!” Bucky whipped around to the sound of his name.

“Steve! Hey! Y/N,” Bucky pulled at her hand. She quickly turned around and looked where he pointed and smiled. She moved to the Bouncer and whispered in his ear. He quickly nodded and pointed to where Steve and Peggy stood, waving his hand for them to come forward.

“Thank you, Thor,” Y/N gripped the Bouncer’s forearm and then reached out to Steve. “Steve, what a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Bucky.”

“Good things, I hope,” Steve eyed Bucky warily but gave Y/N a striking smile. “This is my girlfriend, Margaret Carter.”

“Peggy, please,” Peggy corrected him as she shook Y/N’s hand. “I’m a big fan of yours, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Just Y/N is fine, Peggy,” Y/N smiled wider at her. “I’d love to chat, but let’s get inside and out of the way.”

Everybody followed her inside. The moment she walked in, the owner was by her side, greeting her warmly and offering her the VIP booth. She accepted and led everyone upstairs. The music and the neon lights were mesmerizing as Bucky felt like he was whipping his head around to take in all the sights of the bustling club. When they were seated Y/N ordered drinks for everyone and then finally sat back into the loveseat she was at with Bucky, letting her charismatic guard down.

“Whoo, I hope you don’t mind, it’s just a lot sometimes,” she said, looking at Steve and Peggy.

“Not at all,” Peggy quickly agreed. Steve just watched Y/N carefully. Bucky nudged his foot, making Steve glare at him.

“You don’t trust me, Steve?” Y/N asked. She didn’t say it accusatorially, rather as an observation. Steve’s eyes widened.

“Uh, it’s not that I don’t, trust you, Y/N, I just…um,” he floundered at being called out, unsure of what to say.

Y/N laughed jovially. “I guess I don’t blame you, I wouldn’t trust me either. He’s your best friend, like brothers, I get it.” She held Bucky’s hand and squeezed it. “I hope we can all be good friends, though. I have no ill will or bad intentions towards him, pinky promise,” she held out her free hand, pinky pointed upwards towards Steve. He snorted and surrendered his pinky to loop with hers.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sure you’re great–”

“You just don’t know me yet. But don’t worry, I’m all bark and no bite,” she flashed her teeth at him then laughed again. A song came on that made her jump in her seat. “Oh! Peggy come dance with me!”

“Okay,” Peggy laughed and stood up to join Y/N just a few feet away in an empty space as the next burlesque dancer came out on the stage and did her routine.

Steve scooted over to Bucky as the girls danced nearby. “So, she seems fun.”

“Hm,” Bucky barely acknowledged him as he watched them dance and laugh together. As the burlesque dancer’s set progressed they cheered her on.

“Buck, I’m not trying to be mean,” Steve sighed.

“I know, but you’re not exactly being nice, either,” Bucky finally looked at him. “I know this is weird, the whole thing is weird. I still barely know her. But I wanna see where this leads me. I have a good feeling about it…about her.”

Steve nodded, a knowing look in his eye as he looked Bucky up and down. “You look nice, gift from mama?” he glanced at Y/N.

Bucky laughed, “Yeah. She likes to spoil.”

“And the ring, wow,” Steve grabbed his hand and looked at it. “You lucky dog.”

“Ah come on, punk. I already feel like I’m showing off too much. As nice as it all is,” Bucky said quietly, not wanting to offend Y/N.

“No, it's cool, man. You deserve this. You’ve been working really hard for a long time, this is a good break for you. And honestly, she seems fun, and nice. I hope it all works out for you,” Steve complimented him. “Just don’t forget about us little people.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Never,” he promised, giving Steve a fist bump.

The girls came back to them a moment later. “Steve! Peggy was telling me that you’re an artist!” Y/N said as they sat back down, the next dancer coming to the stage. Their drinks were delivered and she took a small sip.

“Oh, uh, yeah, just some freelancing on the side mostly,” Steve said, glancing at Peggy. She gave him a wide grin.

“He’s very good, Y/N, he’s just embarrassed and doesn’t know how to network himself very well, yet,” Peggy patted Steve’s arm gently.

“Well, I’ve been looking for a new piece to hang in my room. My former designer picked it out and I just don’t like it, no offense to them,” she gave him a sheepish smile. “Would you mind coming by my place soon and maybe we can discuss some options?”

Steve’s face lit up as she spoke. “Yeah, yeah that sounds amazing.”

“Wonderful, let me get your number…you, too Peggy! We’ll have to have dinner soon,” Y/N said as she passed her phone over to them. They both eagerly put their information into it.

Bucky smiled as the night wore on, Y/N being friendly and accommodating to his friends, and telling him about the club and what work had gone into getting it ready and what her role as key investor was. The dancers were amazing, the music and the drinks flowing as they all danced and sang along and cheered for the dancers.

It was the early morning hours when they decided to call it quits. As they headed out the front door some straggler photographers snapped pictures of Y/N as she said goodbye to Steve and Peggy. “Text me!” she whisper-yelled to Peggy as they both smiled giddily to each other before she hugged Steve then took Bucky’s hand and headed towards the car waiting for them.

“Y/N! Who are your friends!?”

“Is this a new boyfriend, Y/N?”

“What’s your name, man?”

They quickly jumped in the car and took off. She leaned back into the seat next to him, stretching her legs out as best as she could and sighing heavily.

“Are you alright?” Bucky giggled, seeing her tired face.

“Yeah, my feet are just killing me,” she groaned.

“Here,” Bucky gingerly pulled one of her legs up and reached for her shoe, unbuckling the heel and setting it next to himself, then doing the same to the other foot. Her legs were hoisted into his lap, making her angle her body weirdly in the car, but as he started rubbing her feet she moaned. He laughed again, “Does that feel good?”

“Soooo good, baby,” Y/N sighed, her eyes closed and her head leaning against the car window. Bucky then realized the position he was in. Her legs were on full display through the slits in her dress and in his lap, making the dress hike up her thick thighs a bit so he could almost see up her dress and in between her legs. He saw a flash of lacy black underwear and quickly focused back on her feet.

“You okay?” she questioned him when he had stopped for a moment, opening her eyes and giving him a worried look.

“I’m fine, just got distracted,” he waved her off, rubbing the heels of her feet gently.

The car arrived at her apartment and he grabbed her shoes and slipped out, reaching for her hand to help her out of the car. She limped a little as her feet met the sidewalk. “Jesus, you had a little too much fun dancing,” Bucky said as she clung to his arm as he led her inside to the elevator.

“I haven’t been dancing in a long time, so sue me for having a little too much fun,” she joked. “Plus, Peggy is fun. It’s nice to make genuine friends.”

Bucky wound an arm behind her back as the elevator opened and they walked into her apartment. “I’m sorry Steve was a little standoffish at the start,” he began.

“Don’t be sorry. I completely understand,” Y/N interrupted him. “I don’t blame him for being worried about his friend. This sort of arrangement is still taboo, so I get it.”

“He seems excited to work with you, though. Thank you for giving him a chance to do more art,” Bucky said.

“Oh it’s no problem at all. I’m sure he just needs a little help getting out there,” Y/N waved off his thanks. “I’m happy to do it. And I honestly don’t like that piece on my wall.”

“Can I see it?” Bucky asked.

“Yep, come see the monstrosity!” she announced dramatically. Bucky laughed as he led her into her room. She stepped out of his embrace and sat on her bed, then pointed behind him. He looked around to the wall facing her bed and grimaced.

“What the fuck is that?” he exclaimed.

Y/N laughed heartily at his reaction. “That is an Igor Eugen Prokop painting.”

Bucky stared at it, his head tilting sideways. “It’s a little, um…”

“Phallic?” Y/N giggled.

Bucky shook his head and looked away from it, rubbing his eyes. “God, and you stare at that every night as you’re going to sleep?”

“I try not to,” she said. “But it’s kinda hard when it’s staring right back at you.”

“No,” Bucky said, then walked over to the painting and pulled it off the wall. He hid it behind the dresser that was sitting below it, making sure it was completely out of sight.

“Thank you, baby,” Y/N giggled again, then yawned. “Oh god, okay. Time to sleep,” she stood up and limped again.

“Maybe no heels next time,” Bucky offered her his hand, which she gladly accepted as he led her over to her closet.

“I got it from here, Bucky, thank you,” she patted his hand. “You go to bed. If I need anything I’ll yell at you. Oh, and…” she stood on her tip toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for coming with me tonight, and introducing me to your friends.”

Bucky beamed at her. “Thank you for taking me. And for the outfit, and the ring, and for being so great to my friends,” he rattled off, squeezing her hand lightly. “I really liked the club.” She seemed to preen at him as he thanked her. Bucky then made a split second decision and leaned forward and kissed her cheek. Y/N’s mouth hung open as he pulled away, her eyes widening slightly before a small smirk graced her features.

“Goodnight, baby,” she said.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

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