#boxofbonesfic challenge

[biteofcherry]

Make the dust fly

dark!Steve Rogers x female reader; dark!Captain Rogers x fairy reader

Author’s Note: This is a dark retelling (with a wicked twist) of a Peter Pan fairytale, for @boxofbonesfic​ “Once Upon A Time” challenge and 10k milesestone celebration - once again, congratulations! 

summary: You’ve always been loyal to Peter and to his group of rascals, fierce in the way you protect them. So when the bloodthirsty Captain Rogers is close to catching your friends, your fairy heart bursts with courage and you place yourself between them. Little did you know that Captain was never after Peter. It was always about you… 

warnings: dark!Steve Rogers; dub-con (bordering on non-con); captivity; stocks/pillory; spanking; size kink; forced orgasm; explicit sexual content; mentions of drug use;

Reader is a fairy, Peter’s sassy Tinkerbell, but in my take on this universe fairies aren’t that tiny tiny. They’re “regular size”, but definitely smaller than Captain Rogers. 

Also, there’s a light hint at WS!Steve, regarding his prosthetic (after all, he’s serving as Captain Hook in this). 

word count: 5.8k

Though the sun spilled through the half-broken window of the old sanctuary, the splashes of colors softening the stone floors where stained glass-work cast its reflection, the soothing atmosphere was dispersing. 

Fear and charging darkness chased you through the corridors as the pirates’ trap closed in on you.

How did they even find this place? It was an abandoned little playground which you found a few months ago and to which you brought Peter and the boys, Wanda too. Her stories gained a new dimension of life when told here. 

It should be safe! So far from the seas and rocky beaches where the pirates often lurked. Far from the lush green forests, which Captain seemed to roam alone with ease, as if he wasn’t a bastard limited to the seas, but a nomad who found his place anywhere he wished. Anywhere his power allowed him.

And he had power in bulks. 

Elders of your fairy clan have spoken of him with fear. You always thought it to be because of his ruthless mastery over the seas and the merciless determination with which he hunted Peter. 

Somehow, he found Peter even here, so deep into the land it felt impossible to meet him and his crew here. But the warning came crisp and clear as MJ ran inside the sanctuary, breathless and panicked, yelling about pirates securing nets outside and preparing to storm in. 

Nets so they could trap all of you, even if your dust gave your friends the ability to fly. 

“Go, Peter!” You hissed at him, handing him a small pouch with gathered fairy dust. 

“Take Wanda and leave through that tunnel we found last week!” You urged them. “Once outside, you’ll be able to fly off. They won’t be able to set up nets over a cliff!”

“Come with us.” Peter caught your wrist. “We can all fly.”

You shook your head, yanking your hand from Peter’s grip. That spontaneous escape would work on most, but not on Captain Rogers.

As rash and reckless many men were, he was a brilliantly strategic son of a bitch. The fact he somehow found you here, was able to build up a quick trap, spoke of how dangerous it was to underestimate him.

Somehow- someone had to play decoy, so the others could save themselves.

You knew Peter managed to get free in the past, always so creative in improvising and audacious enough to follow through with quite crazy plans, but this time it felt more dire. Your instinct told you it was no playful risk, but could be the end to all ends. 

Captain Rogers wanted Peter, you were merely an annoyance he’d wave off like a fly. 

“Go! Go now!” You pushed Peter toward the secret exit. “I’ll meet you later.” You vowed, determined to squirm your way out of the pirate’s grasp. 

When the group started squeezing into the tunnel, you took a deep breath and fluttered your wings out. You flew up to one of the partially broken windows and peeked over the red stained glass that used to be a part of a rose. 

Hook’s crew was indeed outside, in a formation that looked threatening and discouraging to any rebellion. Well, it made your rebellious streak flare. After all, fairies weren’t known for mellow, compliant behavior. You certainly weren’t that kind of a fairy. Nor that kind of woman. 

Hook. You shook your head as you thought of a rather cruel nickname the boys gave Captain Rogers. 

He lost his arm - there were various tales regarding the circumstances behind that. Some included a ridiculous brawl with a crocodile; another a power hungry demi god from the outerworld who turned into an alligator; other stories were about wars in far lands after which Rogers’ body washed up on the shores nearby, already lacking an arm. 

Whatever the truth was, each tale had a significant truth to it which your friends liked to omit - Rogers survived. Perhaps even won. 

It should keep you all scared, not underestimate him as a pathetic, crazy pirate with a prosthetic. 

There was a hook attached to his prosthetic many years ago, but it was long gone, replaced with a functioning metal arm whose endurance and strength matched Rogers’ general power. 

Still, Peter and the boys snickered at the Hook nickname.

Most of the time you called him Rogers or Captain Rogers, only when you were truly pissed, or scared of losing your friends, did you call him Hook; and many other degrading names.

He stood there, so close to the entrance. His head was slightly bowed as he talked to a man beside him. Sun streaks seemed to catch in his blond hair, his features bathed in warm glow. It annoyed you that someone so ruthless and despicable dared to look so beautiful, so stunning. Light and magic of the world were for fairies like you, to shimmer in your nearly translucent wings and burst full of color as you shed dust. It shouldn’t caress a man like Captain Rogers, making him appear innocent-like.

No, he was not innocent. 

He was a bottomless pit of darkness and all things wicked, only luring with his handsome veneer. Like those flowers Tiger Lily once showed you - they were so lush and aromatic, but when an insect touched their petals they’d trap it inside and feed on it.

Not only because Rogers had this sick obsession with Peter, trying to hunt him down, but there were other instances that turned your blood cold. 

He kidnapped three mermaid younglings, taking them far away over the seas and selling them as an attraction, or maybe as pets. He spread bodies of his enemies on the rocky shore, arranging their corpses in wooden galways, leaving them for animals to feed on. 

There was a tale of Echo, one of the Tribe’s people, who disappeared unexpectedly. Rumors of her fate laid at Captain Rogers’ feet. Yet there was no gossip of her potential whereabouts. And the Tribe, for some unknown reason, still occasionally traded with the pirates. 

Rage at his conscienceless acts made you itch for your daggers. Though you probably couldn’t hit him from a distance.

So you flew up slightly higher, to get a better look at the siege, seek a hole through which you could escape and show them the middle finger. 

At that moment Captain turned his head and looked up, as if he sensed he was being watched. His gaze zeroed in on you.

Stupidly, really, but you stuck out your tongue at him when your eyes met. 

Rogers cocked his head to the side, his gaze slid from you to the building then back up. He was assessing something, calculating. Suddenly he turned on his heel and marched straight inside. 

Heart jumping to your throat in fear, you flew down. 

It dawned on you that he had to be considering where your group may hide within the sanctuary’s corridors, but your little peek gave him the answer right away. It meant he was aiming straight to your place of hiding.

Which was good, you reminded yourself. It drew attention away from Peter and Wanda and the rest. You had to stand your ground. 

You couldn’t just fly around like a butterfly anyway, since a few months ago it turned out that pirates have shipped in some new kind of weapon that splutters rapid fire at any object in motion. It would hit you at some point, even if you’d manage to dodge most of the shots.

Taking Rogers on in a fight was a task near impossible, but you were fast, agile and quite good with your daggers in close distance. Maybe you’d be able to surprise him with a nick, or two, and use the distraction to escape. The tunnel Peter and the rest went through was so narrow that Captain’s broad, large frame would never fit through it. 

You drew out your daggers, clenching your fingers around the ornately carved wood, as you heard booming steps approaching. Captain Rogers barged in, his pace slowing as he entered the chamber fully. 

A small group of his pirates followed, but when they realized there’s no one beside you inside, they stopped in their tracks. 

You felt a surge of victory. You tilted your chin up defiantly, a smirk curving your lips as you threw Captain a challenging look.

“Peter’s not here.” You called out, triumphantly. “You’re not gonna get him, old man.”

It was an overused jab that had more spunk when Peter yelled it. His youth could rub it in for a man of Rogers’ age (truthfully, you did not know his actual age, but he was at least twice the age of Peter and Wanda). 

You? Fairies aged differently. You may as well be his age, if not older. 

Captain Rogers didn’t seem enraged at your challenge. A muscle in his jaw twitched, but his face remained impassive as he stared you down.

He motioned at his people to stand down behind then slowly drew out his sword. The sound of a sharp blade leaving its sheath pierced the silence that fell over the sanctuary. 

Your fists clenched, the hilt of your dagger digging painfully into your delicate skin. You drew your wings together and rested them against your back to gain more momentum as you charged at him. 

You were fast and sneaky, easily avoiding Captain’s first cuts. Unfortunately for you, his large size wasn’t an obstacle to his agility. You learned it quickly as his moves sped up and he matched you in your rapid twists. His bulky frame was surprisingly graceful in a fight. 

With a snarl, you managed to cut his shoulder, dark shirt parting where your blade nicked it. Blood soaked that spot, but the Captain didn’t even hiss, nor did he falter in his steps. 

He attacked you with ferocity, though you didn’t notice that each of his moves was to disable you rather than kill you. Too immersed in your own rage, you slashed like a caged animal while he remained a sophisticated predator toying with his food.

You twisted around, swaying your arm in a half circle in an attempt to slice his other arm. A sudden pain in your wings pulled you backward. He caught your wings in his metal fingers, delicate filaments nearly crushing under the pressure. With a yelp, you bowed your back to lessen the tugging pain, flailing your arms around to lash at anyone who dared to approach. 

Captain Rogers hit your fist with the broad side of his sword, the strength behind it hard enough to make your fingers seize in pain. You dropped the dagger. Before it clattered to the floor, he did the same to your other hand, leaving you weaponless. 

Another tug at your wings pulled you backwards to him, then his hand caught one of your wrists, wrenching your arm behind your back. 

He had you locked, your side pinned to him as he forced your back to bow further, your face tilting up to him as you did. 

Striking blue eyes, reminding you of the electric clear sky after stormy clouds disperse, stared down at you. A cold victory shimmered in his irises.

“I don’t care about getting Peter, little sprite.” Captain’s deep, velvety voice resounded over the rapid fluttering of your heart. 

“It was always about you.” 

His dark chuckle caused your heart to stop, dread swallowing you in a cold wave. 

You never expected to become a part of his sinister plans; your mind filled with horrifying images of being shipped away to unknown lands, sold like a piece of meat, or forced into labor to survive. You were ready to die, if it meant saving your friends, but you never considered a worse fate awaiting. 

One of the Captain's crewmen brought a set of shackles, which they locked around your hands. Usually you were able to get out of any regular cuffs, but these seemed to be tailored for a fairy’s slimmer wrists. Attached to it was a heavy chain, the end of which Captain Rogers wrapped around his metal hand. 

“You can walk, or you can fly, I don’t care.” He said to you, yanking on the chain and forcing you to stumble into his chest. 

With his other hand he gripped a fistful of your hair and loomed over you. 

“But you will follow me, sprite. Or another chain will go around your neck and I’ll drag you by it all the way to my ship.”  

He led you out of the sanctuary, your feet scurrying after his big strides. Once outside, you spread your wings, helping yourself catch up to Captain’s pace by floating in the air. A small group of his pirates joined you, trading beside and behind. The rest stayed to take down the nets and pack everything. 

It really seemed that Captain got exactly what he wanted and you had no idea why it was you. 

You looked for any familiar faces that might lurk in the thickness of the jungle, or hide behind rocks, as the pirates led you to the beach where the boats awaited. Anyone, who could carry the news of your capture to Peter, or to your fairy clan. 

However, all forms of life seemed to scatter from the Captain’s path. 

Perhaps it was the right thing to do. You should’ve abandoned your bold, fierce courage - or stupidity, really - and hide from him, like all reasonable creatures did. 

As some of the elders of your clan sighed, you spent too much time joining Peter’s reckless adventures, forgetting your survival instinct. 

At the shore, Captain brought you with him into one of the boats. Only two other pirates joined you, their task to row the boat toward the monstrous, black ship out in the open sea. Rogers made you sit down on the bottom of the boat, curled between his spread legs. 

He ran a finger down the back of your neck and to where your wings grew out of your back. You hunched forward, then turned your head and glared at him. His mouth curved in a cocky smirk as he teased the outline of your shimmering wing. 

You clenched your jaw and hung your head down, feigning pure anger to cover the hint of trembling. 

Fairy’s wings were exceptionally sensitive to touch. The stroke of Captain’s fingers evoked a sensation contrary to pain or discomfort. That side of your wings, when teased, would cause your nipples to stiffen and a fire to bloom in your abdomen. 

You would never let Hook know about that. He’d use it to humiliate you, or to think of an even worse fate for you. You were sure he had some depraved, disgusting buyers in the dark human offshores. 

Once on the ship, the crew parted as Captain Rogers prowled toward his suite. Their eyes leering as they watched you trot behind him. You swallowed, but tilted your chin high. You even sent a glare at one or two of the pirates. 

Your breath stuttered in your chest, your eyes growing big, when among the crew you noticed a dark haired woman. Tight braids adorned with beads and a pirate’s outfit on her body, but you recognized Echo. Or someone who looked so much like her. She sent you a dismissive look, as if she wasn’t bothered by your presence. She definitely didn’t seem to be in distress.

You had no time to wonder about Echo’s ties to the pirate crew, because Rogers opened the door to his cabin and pushed you inside. Heavy wood closed behind you with a booming finality.

The first thing you saw was a long table with maps, plans and navigating instruments. Books lined shelves on the sides. A few trinkets glinted in the dimmed darkness. 

The cabin was separated in half by a heavy curtain. When Captain led you around the table toward it and parted the folds of the embroidered fabric, you froze on the spot. 

That you’d see the private, sleeping part of his quarters was something you expected. But it was the thing beside his big bed, lined with layers of soft looking linens and silks, that made you stumble a step back. 

A large, human sized birdcage hung beside the bed. Pillows fluffed atop its bottom didn’t change the fact it was a scary, humiliating prison. Undoubtedly made for you. 

“I’d rather be tossed in the brick with other slaves you’re about to sell.” You gritted your teeth, yanking on the chain which Rogers’ held in his hand. 

“Sell?” He approached you, a cruel smile on his pretty lips.

He traced a single finger along your cheek and you flinched away from his touch, despite how strangely soothing it felt for your rattled heart. 

“Sprite, why would I sell something that can bring me regular profit rather than just a one time gain?” Captain chuckled.

Not the least discouraged by your body leaning away, he slid his hands down your arms. The fact his touch was gentle and not a forced manhandling, somehow made the disgust in you grow. 

“See, I’m well aware that fairy dust gives more than just the ability to fly for a few minutes.” He opened your shackles, dropping them and the chain to the floor with a loud clunk. “Though, that in itself would sell greatly.”

He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing tightly and forcing you to look him in the eye. 

“I know that fairy dust gives an euphoric rush and enhances strength, speed, and senses. Even if the effect is short, it's a drug most sought after.”

You heard of it - of what your dust gave people. Peter and your friends gained from it, but for joy and freedom. Others wanted the power of it for more nefarious deeds. And, as it always was with people, they wanted more and more and more. 

“I plan on reaping the benefits of selling it regularly. And you, little sprite, are my source.” 

With a wicked grin, Rogers kissed you on the lips. A short, harsh thing. Then he pulled back, laughing at your stunned face. 

It took you a second to regain your train of thought as your brain scrambled - both at his admission and the kiss. Ire rose, rebellion against aiding the damned pirate in any way bubbling hot like lava. 

“Ha!” You scrunched your nose and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not shedding a single flake of dust for you, asshole. Keep me locked as long as you want, you’re not getting any.”

You expected a flash of anger. Hell, you wanted to annoy him! You wanted to push all his buttons, rip them free and stuff them down his throat so he chokes.

But he remained calm, amused even. Studied you with a head tilted to the side, corners of his mouth still lifted upward in a smile. 

Then, in a split second, he had a hand behind your neck, fingers gripping tightly. 

He dragged you across the room, toward a wooden pillory which you didn’t notice earlier. You growled out your protest, heels digging into the floor planks as you fought against Captain's grip. It was futile. He overpowered you easily. 

With the help of his metal hand, he had you bending down. Your neck settled into a bigger half-moon in the middle of the pillory. He forced your hands to rest in the smaller circles. Then locked the upper part, trapping you in. A padlock clicked in place. 

Your wings fluttered wildly, your feet lifting off the floor, but it changed nothing. He had you bound in an uncomfortable, humiliating position. 

He crouched in front of you, blue eyes staring into yours with a dark glint.

“Ah, sprite. You underestimate me.” His smirk grew and a dreadful feeling settled deep in your gut.

“I knew you wouldn’t shed dust for me willingly. I also know that there is another instance when a fairy sprinkles it. Uncontrollably, I’d say.” 

No! He couldn’t know that. Nobody did. 

That was a secret of the fairies, shared with absolutely no one. You never told Peter or anyone else. You knew no other fairies would reveal it, no matter how strongly they trusted human friends. 

Yet everything inside you sensed that the Captain spoke the truth. He knew the truth. 

“I- I have no idea what you are talking about.” You huffed out, but you suspected your bluff was easily caught. 

“Of course you do, sweet little sprite.” Rogers chuckled.

He straightened and slowly walked around you. He didn’t even reprimand you for struggling in the stockade, trying to somehow break the sturdy wood. He was this secured in his dominance over you. 

There was a long, silent pause, heightening your trepidation since you were unable to see what he was doing behind you. 

A big, warm hand rested right above your wings, then teasingly slowly dragged between them all the way to your ass. A brush along your wings was enough to send a faint zap of sensation to your core. Rogers flipped your green dress up, exposing your butt. He splayed his hand over one buttock, warming up your skin.

He pulled his hand away. A second later a loud smack resounded, evoking a burning sting and causing you to squeak. 

His fingers spread over the spot, rubbing soothingly and turning the pain into pleasant throbbing. He draped himself over you as he looked down at your bowed head from above the pillory.

“A fairy sprinkles dust when they’re aroused.” Rogers recited the most intimate secret. 

“Well, you don’t arouse me!” Your fingers clenched into fists as you hissed at him. 

“Don’t I?” Captain hummed. 

With his foot he kicked your legs wider apart. Next his hand landed with a softer slap over your pussy. He kept his fingers there. Held them pressed against you, starting a slow circular motion that drew out wetness you shouldn’t be presenting at his proximity. 

A whimper escaped your mouth as you felt your clit throb beneath his fingers. The thin fabric of your bottoms growing a wet spot. 

“There she is.” Captain drawled in pleasure, tracing his metal finger along the back of your neck. 

Dust glittered on your skin, the tiny flakes clinging to his finger as he touched your skin. 

His touch disappeared, leaving you with a mixture of relief and confusing longing, as Rogers moved around to face you again. 

He crouched down, showing you his finger that now shined with fairy dust.

“You may think I'm repulsive, sprite, but I will do things to your body that will make you burst in fountains.” He traced your lips with that finger, withdrawing it just in time before you thought to bite it (even if your teeth would crack against the metal of his prosthetic).  

“No, I won’t!” You sneered, struggling in your bonds. 

Captain’s face leaned closer, his breath puffing against your lips as he spoke:

“I’ll have you creaming and dusting yourself like a pathetic, needy slut. And you’ll learn to beg for it.”

He stood up, once again leaving you clueless about what he was about to do to you. The stocks prevented you from movement, but also blocked out any way of catching in your peripheral vision what was happening behind it. No way for you to prepare yourself for whatever the Captain did.

He slid your green bottoms down your legs in one swift move. You shrieked and tried to kick him. A cold, metal grip crushed your ankle. Your bones rattled, the pressure of his hold warning you of how easily he could break you if he wished.  

“Keep your feet on the floor, or I’ll shackle them too.” He barked, releasing your leg. 

You considered kicking him again, but then your brain lost the ability to connect thoughts to motions as another slap jerked your body. 

His hand met your bare skin now, the sting of it more intense. He gave you no pause as he began raining steady hits across your ass. Your body tensed, heat from the burning in your butt spreading in waves through your body. Perspiration shone on your skin, your breathing growing heavier. 

Then his fingers teased along your parted folds, dipping into shameful wetness that dripped out of you. 

You couldn’t comprehend how he managed that. The spanking has hurt, it shouldn’t rouse your body. Your position was humiliating. You were a captive against your will! And yet… Captain Rogers had you trembling with growing need. 

“Nooo!” You moaned a protest when his fingers gathered your wetness and started circling your clit.

Your thighs tensed. You wanted nothing more but to close them and stop this madness, but Captain slotted himself between them, the fabric of his pants abrasive on your delicate skin. 

“Yes, sprite.” He rubbed your nub harder. “Let it go.” 

He watched, mesmerized, as your skin started glowing. A delicate shimmer at first that turned brighter as your arousal spiked. The higher he pushed you the more dust appeared. Your skin looked like it was covered in a layer of sweet glitter. Your wings seemed to be encrusted with crushed gems, sprinkles falling all around as your wings fluttered.

A single long, big finger slid into you, spearing through your tight walls. An intrusion that set everything inside you on fire, causing the fairy dust to fall all around as you seized in pleasure. 

He kept pushing into you, even as you sagged. Pleading noises bubbled on your lips; for what, you weren’t even sure anymore. A second finger joined the first, stretching you. He curled them and the spot he nudged elicited another lewd moan from you. 

Captain’s cool, metal hand touched the small of your back. Surprisingly gently this time. He slid his fingers up, teasing the underside of your wing. Silver metal of his prosthetic covered in the thick brilliance of your dust, sparkles of rainbow caught in the light. 

He moved his hand further and gripped your wing a tad harder, not enough to cause pain though. That, combined with incessant thrusting of his fingers, toppled you over another peak. 

You came with a hoarse cry, dropping your head low as dust fluttered from your fingers which clenched and straightened in spasm as you rode out your orgasm. 

When he pulled out his fingers, a squelch of your sopping pussy humiliated you further. His metal hand gave your folds a little pat; you had to clench your jaw to stop another moan from falling out. 

Captain remained quiet. No teasing words, no victorious jab. 

You thought you heard him hum in delight. A silent pause stretched. Then a loud groan.

“Fuck.” His low, husky voice sent a shiver up your spine. 

His steps sounded heavier as he moved, as if he suddenly gained more weight or strength. He squatted in front of you. Your head felt heavy as you slowly lifted it up to look at him.

His irises weren’t simply blue anymore. They mirrored a jeweled shimmer of fairy dust. 

His skin seemed aglow, too. All of him pulsed with power.

“That I did not know, sweet sprite.” He said, wonder and hunger bursting a starlight in his eyes.    

“That your juices are more potent than a whole bottle of fairy dust.” He licked his lips as if savoring the taste. “I merely sucked your slick off my fingers and the power that it gave me? Oh, sprite- I feel it charging through me like a lightning bolt.” 

“A thimble of fairy dust gives a kick. A nice high with some enhanced perks for a short while. Your cream? It’s a storm in veins, sprite. A little lick and I’m a step from a god.” 

“No! No, please, no, you can’t-” Your brain turned frantic, fear creeping up through your still softened with pleasure body.

If he told anyone of that, not only would your fate be chained to the gutter, but all the other fairies would be at risk. Hunted and ripped apart for limitless greed of monsters like Captain Rogers.  

“Relax, little sprite.” His hand cupped your cheek, his voice almost soothing. His eyes, a galaxy of captivating darkness. “I have no intention of sharing this power with anyone. No, sweetling, I’ll be the only one you give it to.” 

“The others will pay high for the dust you sprinkle around plentifully. But your sweet, tiny cunt? It belongs to me now.”

He leaned in, sealing your lips with his own. You tasted yourself on his tongue, your juices not having the same effect on you as it did on him, but the hunger of his kiss stirred something inside you. 

He broke the kiss with a bite to your lip, which he soothed with a flick of his tongue. Then he was standing up and moving again, until he nestled himself between your thighs. 

His hands squeezed your buttocks, spreading them to allow him even easier access to your glistening, puffy folds. He licked you with a broad stroke of his tongue; the sensation made you shudder, your hips tilting upwards in an involuntary invitation. 

He devoured you, mouthing on your pussy as if it was the juiciest, sweetest fruit. He lapped up each trickle of your slick, forced his tongue inside then swirled it around your clit. Bristles of his beard brushed your skin, adding to the hazy pleasure. You knew you’ll have burns from how ferociously he ate you out. 

You came into his mouth, despite trying to hold it off. Your whimpers mixed with Captain’s groan of delight. 

He licked you clean, wasting no single drop, then trailed hot open mouthed kisses across your inner thigh and over your ass. Your legs shook as he straightened up. Rustling of fabric reached your ears, your dizzy brain recognizing clothes being taken off. 

“Might be a tight fit, sprite.” Captain’s husky chuckle made your pussy clench. 

Your weak whine unfurled into a wanton moan as the tip of his big cock stretched your opening. 

Captain Rogers was much larger than you in size overall, you never considered before that he may be proportionately bigger in every detail of his body. The breach of his cock felt nearly painful, yet his girth seemed to rub against spots which were never touched properly before. 

He kept pushing in, in, in, knocking the breath out of your lungs. He pierced into you deeper, filing you completely. 

“You taste amazing and you feel exquisite, too.” He gripped your hip with his metal hand and the curve of your upper wing with his flesh one as he bottomed out. 

“Ah, sprite! You’re so tight around me I may want to stay inside forever.” 

He ran his fingers along the curve of your wing, sending little shocks straight to your core. Your pussy fluttered, sipping more slick. 

“You like that, sweetling?” Captain purred, stroking your wing again, at the same time rocking his hips into you slowly. “Yeah, you do. I’ll make you see fireworks. Turn you into a little sparkling firework, too.” 

Tightening his hold on you, he withdrew. Then slammed back into you with force, evoking your cry. 

He fucked you with steady, deep thrusts, speeding up when your skin covered in new sheen of dust. Glittering powder seeped through his fingers where they rested on your wing; speckles of dust flaked from your thighs and ass with each sharp slap of his hips. 

Your whole body tensed, wings spreading wide and feet nearly flying off the floor as his cock drove into a particularly sensitive spot. You saw stars bursting white in your eyes and your whole body glimmered with a powdered rainbow. 

Your cries grew louder, then your voice scraped raw after another, and another climax. Still, Captain was fucking you through it. You had no idea if it was him alone, or if your magic that he gorged on made him able to last so long. 

When he finally finished, spilling inside you with a loud, beastly grunt, you were sweaty and shiny, and completely boneless. You nearly dropped to your knees when Captain slipped out and let go of you. 

With a breathless chuckle, he wrapped an arm under you and pulled you up. With his other hand he opened the padlock and released you from the stockade. You fell into his arms half-consciously, even your wings felt heavy, dropping down, too tired to make any motion. 

“See, little sprite, you dusted for me in abundance.” He mocked your earlier rebellion as he scooped you up.

The floor was covered in a thick layer of sparkling dust. Enough to fill a few vials.Your small feet left an imprint in the shimmery drizzle in the spot from which Captain picked you up.  

You had no strength to fight him when Rogers carried you across the suite. He opened the birdcage and sat you down on fluffy pillows. Arranged your body quite comfortably in your new, narrow prison. He locked it and swayed the cage with a gentle push. 

He watched you with clear, untired eyes (still sparkling with extreme power), while you peeked at him through heavy eyelids. You saw him wrap his fingers around his softening cock, gathering your mixed juices and bringing his hand up to his face. He licked it clean, his irises anew igniting with power.

His skin glowed, though you weren’t sure if it’s only the sweat from your coupling, or if your magic thrummed beneath his skin so vividly. His muscles looked to be carved from marble. Veins curved in places which you never paid attention to in any man. 

He looked like a god he claimed to feel like. 

A beautiful monster who you should despise for the rest of your life, no matter how your body shivered under his touch. 

“Rest now, sprite.” Captain cooed as your head leaned against one of the bars. “If you prove to be good, you might earn yourself bed rights someday.” 

He swayed the cage again, rocking you to sleep. Despite your effort to stay awake, to not waste a second and start forming a plan of escape, drowsiness was taking over your exhausted body. 

You fell asleep as you watched Captain pull on his pants - and nothing else - and bend over the map table, scribbling something down. A new course to lands where he could profit from your dust. 

Or doomed places where he could test the power that owning you gave him. 

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Wax and Wane

Pairing: Werewolf!Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: You were drawn to Andrew Barber like a moth to flame, and now that everything you were is burned away, you cling to him in the ashes.

Word Count: 1,269

Warnings: Darkfic, Dubcon, Horror Au, Werewolves, Smut, Borderline Monsterfucking (lol), Implied Stockholm Syndrome, Breeding, Dead Dove: Do not eat, MINORS DNI!

A/N: my second entry for my Friday the 13th challenge! so as some of you all may recall, the “A.B” initials on the charm bracelet in Talking to the Moon implied the existence of other women, and maybe other pack members…😈 mind the warnings my loves! enjoy! divider by @firefly-graphics

The sound of the bell rouses you, forcing you to sit up groggily as you blink at the dark room. The heavily draped window is dark too, and when you look blearily for the digital clock on the bedside table, it confirms your suspicion. 

 The bright numbers read 3:17, and for a moment you consider turning back over and going back to sleep, but the little bell next to your bed sounds again insistently. 

 I hate that fucking bell. It’s an antiquated remnant of the house’s past, from a time when your lavish bedroom was once part of the servant’s quarters, the bell a means to summon you. Now, however, it serves a somewhat different purpose. 

 Is it really different? He calls, I come.

 Andy’s side of the bed is cold, you note as you roll out from underneath the covers. You peek through the curtains out at the moon, a dark sliver eaten out of the bright circle. It won’t last, though—it’s due to be full tomorrow, maybe the day after, so Andy’s side of the bed will remain cold until then. 

 You hate that you miss him, a little. He is a good conversationalist after all, your man—your monster. 

 Andy is supposed to be with the pack—you know this from past experience. It’s strange he’s waited so long to leave, and you know that now he must have certainly missed his chance. You make your way down the long hall, the only sound the whisper of your long robe against the cool tile. He isn’t downstairs, not when you exit the grand staircase and into the dark living room. The house is intimidating in the dark, but you’ve done this enough times now that you could probably do it with your eyes shut if you wanted to. You go through the kitchen, pausing briefly before the cellar door. 

 When you open it, Andy is waiting for you on the other side. It’s easy to see the change is almost upon him. His bare chest is heaving, shiny with sweat. His eyes are fever bright, nostrils flaring from the scent of you. When he licks his lips, your pulse quickens, and you wonder if he can hear it, if he knows. 

 I should have seen it coming.

 You should have—but Andy had blinded you. Love blinded you. You had not noticed your friends dropping from your life like irate flies as you found yourself too busy with Andy Barber to see them, your family held at arms length by their disapproval of your wealthy, mysterious new beau. People falling like dominoes until you were alone—

 And alone, you were weak.

 When the man had become a monster, you had clung on instead of running. And now, you think as you lightly finger the raised scar on your chest, it’s too late. The long scratch marks that if you measured, would be exactly Andy’s finger-widths apart.��

 There’s something under my skin, too.

  You allow him to pull you to his chest as he inhales deeply, pressing his face into your hair. The smell of him does something to you, too, igniting a warm tingle deep in the apex of your thighs. The distinctly male musk, tinged with something animal, primal. His fingers tangle in your curls for a moment before he lets go, his hands wandering appreciatively down your sides and over the curve of your hips. 

 “I thought I was going to have to come get you,” he says, his voice low. There is amusement there, too. “You have good timing.” 

 Most people don’t pay close attention, so generally, even when Andy is out and about this close to the change, no one notices the tells. Not like you. His nails are longer, sharper and stronger. His canines longer, thicker—it makes him lisp, just a little. And his eyes…

 The darkest, stormiest blue. 

 Andy slides a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head up. You sigh into his mouth as his lips meet yours, his teeth pulling at the plump flesh until it swells. Hungrily he swallows the resulting whimper, and when his tongue sweeps into your mouth he tastes like gin—he’s been drinking. Andy’s hands slide up your sides, displacing the robe as he pushes it from your shoulders. 

 “Smell like honeysuckle,” the words are murmured low against your throat. You squeak when his fingers sink appreciatively into the soft skin of your ass underneath the hem of your nightie. He inhales again, teeth tugging at the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “And rain.” Thick fingers wiggle between your thighs, and you widen your stance without being asked, and Andy hums with pleasure at finding you damp already. 

 “Missed you.” 

 Your breath catches as he circles your clit, before sliding down to tease at your entrance. When he pulls back, you try to stifle the whine that grows in your throat, but you don’t kill it completely. 

 “Get on the desk.” 

 This room serves as Andy’s unofficial second office. Where, if you looked, you might find pieces of evidence that were conveniently “lost” during trial—things that might make their way into Andy’s pocket if he had a particularly stubborn problem. 

 Nothing that would be of use to you now. 

 His eyes rest on you with almost physical weight, you can feel them boring into you as you lean up onto your toes, bending across the dark wood. You peek over your shoulder, and you sink your teeth into your lip to keep from gasping. When the change is close, you know Andy is… bold. Aggressive, even—-and tonight is no different. He openly palms his cock through his open pants, staring lustfully at the glistening folds between your spread thighs. He grins at you, and your cheeks burn but you don’t look away. 

 “I told you, runt,” he says, the points of his sharp teeth hanging over his lip. “I missed you.” Andy is on you in two easy strides, resting a hand on your hip as he rubs the head of his cock against your pussy. This time, you can’t help the shuddering moan that leaks through your clenched teeth. He bends over you until he can rest his lips on the back of your neck, and they curve against your skin. “I see you missed me too, didn’t you?”

 “I did,” you admit, your cunt sucking desperately at the tip of his cock. 

 “Mmm, good girl, so honest.” The pleased hum that vibrates in his chest fills you with a shameful sense of pride. You are a pretty bird in a pretty cage for as long as he’ll have you—but you can’t bring yourself to hate him. You moan as he begins to push forward, his hand heavy on your hip.

 “I know I’m supposed to be with the pack,” Andy grits out as he begins to stretch you open. You stare with lidded, unseeing eyes at the bookshelves in front of you, his words echoing in your ears. There’s a sort of doubling when he speaks again, two voices in one mouth. There is Andy’s voice, the one you know, and then something dark. Animal. 

 “But you feel so good like this.” 

 You know the beast is crawling just underneath Andy’s skin, staring out at you through his eyes. Your only saving grace is the fact that they want the same thing—

 “I know you like it too, pup,” Andy’s teeth scrape hungrily against your neck as he splits you open inch by delicious inch. “You always did have a thing for monsters.” 

 end

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library​ for updates. ❤️

[chasingmidnights]

Feels Like Dying

Title: Feels Like Dying 

Prompt: “Every time I see you it feels like dying. Except, I know I’m alive because it hurts so much.” 

Summary: You finally tell Bucky how you feel. 

Warnings: angst; Bucky Barnes (I feel like he deserves his own label, alright!); heartbreak; love confession; unrequited love; pining; and I think that should be everything! I apologize if I miss anything but you are responsible for what you read! 

A/N: This is a piece that I created for the Boxofbones Writer’s Camp event held by @boxofbonesfic! I hope you all enjoy it! I had fun going through the editing process and learned quite a bit! Thank you for hosting such a great event! 

Wordcount: 1,254

You walked into the common room of the Avenger’s compound and froze. You recognized that laugh. You’d know it in a room full of people. It belonged to Bucky Barnes, your best friend. One of the things that you loved about Bucky was his laugh, it was contagious. A small smile attempted to work its way onto your lips but faded at the sound of hers. Great, she’s here, you thought to yourself and you rolled eyes. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself forward. You wanted a snack and you’d be damned if the sight of Bucky and his girlfriend would stop you from getting one. You hoped they wouldn’t notice you. You thought back to when Bucky first started dating Leah. 

You had begun to notice small signs that something was going on with him. He would smile more when he texted and every time your curiosity grew. He would disappear for hours and come back as if he had only been gone for a few minutes. He became even more protective over his phone and wouldn’t let anyone touch it. Even you. You knew something was up but couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

Then the day came when he wanted you to meet her. You'd arched an eyebrow up at him, asking him what this was all about. His only reply was a smile, and he’d led you out of the Avengers’ compound. When the two of you got to the restaurant, a young woman instantly smiled at the sight of the two of you. She waved you over and Bucky pulled you along to the table. You’d never seen him act so excited with someone, except for maybe you. Bucky had let go of your hand and greeted her with a kiss. 

Your heart sunk at the sight, and you couldn’t quite figure out why. It wasn’t until lunch was nearly over that it dawned on you like a ton of bricks.

 You had feelings for Bucky. 

And it was because of those feelings that you hoped neither Bucky nor Leah would notice you as you crept through the common room. But fate wasn’t on your side. 

“Hey Mouse!” Bucky called out to you. A smile pulled up at the corner of his lips. 

You willed yourself to walk over to them, doing your best to mirror his expression. The last thing you wanted to do today was be a third wheel. If you had known that they were in the common room you would’ve taken a different route to the kitchen. You know this place like the back of your hand, you would’ve found a way to avoid them. 

“Hi Bucky, Leah. What’s up?” 

Bucky tilted his head at you. You knew he could sense that you were uncomfortable by the tone of your voice, it was lacking the usual chipper quality. The two of you were best friends, he knew you inside and out. 

“Just hanging out, care to join us?” 

“You know, I would, but I have a bunch of reports that I need to get done. I was just taking a small break for a snack.” You flashed him a pained smile. 

Did he just look sad? Surely he’s not upset that I said no. He has Leah after all.  

“Oh okay.” Bucky replied. “I guess I’ll see you around later.” It almost sounded like a question.

“Of course Buck.” You give him a small nod of reassurance. 

You leave, your chest tight and swallowing back hot tears. Honestly, you wished you were in Leah’s spot. In fact, you didn’t realize you had feelings for Bucky until he had introduced Leah as his girlfriend. You suffered silently for months as you watched him be happy with someone else. Every time he asked you to hang out with them, you came up with some kind of excuse to explain your absence. You were so lost in thought as you entered the kitchen that you missed the sound of footsteps trailing after you. 

“Mouse, what was that back there?” Bucky asked, you could tell he was upset by the sound of his voice, it was strained and tight like he was holding back. 

You pulled out a bag of popcorn, glancing over at him before putting the bag into the microwave. He was leaning against the counter and had his arms crossed over his chest. You could feel his eyes burning into you as you avoided his gaze. The sound of the popcorn cooking provided release from the tension that filled the room. You continued to stare into the small window of the microwave as you spoke up again. 

“What are you talking about Buck?” 

“You know exactly what. All that bullshit about reports.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “You have been acting weird for months now and I can’t figure it out! Please, just tell me what’s going on.” 

Oh, he was not happy. You should’ve known that this was bound to happen eventually. You run a hand over your face before you turn to him. Bucky began to tap his metal hand on the countertop. You could feel heat beginning to form in your cheeks from being so worked up over this whole situation. Before you could even stop yourself, you said the first thing that came out of your mouth. 

“Fine, then how about this, I’d rather be doing other things than watch you two make lovey eyes at each other. Is that more acceptable?” Your voice was laced with sarcasm. He did not appreciate that, you could tell by the look on his face. 

“What, do you not like Leah?” He uncrossed his arms and put a hand on his hip as he waited for an answer.

You scoff at his inquiry. “She’s fine, I guess. I just don’t feel like being a third wheel all the damn time, is that so hard to believe?” 

“Come on Mouse, stop with the shit. Look, I can tell you don’t like her, you never hang out with us, no matter how many times I invite you.” His voice stern and his expression serious. 

Well, you might as well be honest with him. You take a deep breath. 

“You wanna know why?! It’s because I wish it was me that you were with, not her.” Your heart was already starting to race, the words continued to spew out. “It kills me every time I see you two together!” You paused to catch your breath. “Every time I see you it feels like dying. Except, I know I’m alive because it hurts so much. That’s how much I like you!” You hated the way your voice cracked, like the weight of your words was too heavy for it.

You stared at Bucky, your eyes locked together as the shock grew over his features. Tears began to gather in your wide eyes the longer he remained quiet. A sniffle escaped and you wiped away a fallen tear. You knew this is what would happen. The air around you grew thick as Bucky continued to stare wordlessly at you. You needed to get out of here. You felt like a complete idiot for spilling your guts to your best friend like this. 

“Right, well. I’ll just leave.” He would have said something if he felt even remotely the same. 

Tears continued to fall down your cheeks as you rushed past him. You left  before the timer went off, in too much pain to stand there any longer.

[winter-soldier-101]

The Stalker

This is part of @boxofbonesfic Friday the 13th writing challenge.

Warnings:Stalking,talking about murder.

Word count:1k

Characters:Bucky Barnes x Reader.

“Mom please everyone is going to the bonfire in the woods why can’t I go?”

“Honey please I’ve told you that killer is still out there and I know you want to go and party with your friends but no now go up to your room.”

“Mom please I’ll be careful and I’m going to go with Lucy and her brother Lucky please.” (Y/N) begged her mom.

“(Y/N) no I don’t want you out of this house I need to know your safe for the night so please don’t ask me again about going out to the bonfire with all your friends go to your room please”

The room was quiet and dark, (Y/N) looks around and sees the window is open “I thought I closed that when I went downstairs” (Y/N) says to herself quietly.

Few hours later

(Y/N) wakes up and goes downstairs to get some water and goes back to her room, as you lay down a hand creeps up and covers your mouth (Y/N) looks around while her screams are being muffled by the man looking at her.

“Hello doll, you are so much more beautiful up close I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to meet you, I was going to take you at the bonfire but your bitch of a mother wouldn’t let you so I took care of her for us, I’m going to move my hand so be quiet or I’ll have to hurt you and I really don’t want to hurt you doll do you understand me?” The man asks.

(Y/N) looks at the man and nods her head up and down telling him she understands.

He moves his hand and looks at you to make sure you don’t yell or try to escape.

“What d…did y….you do to my mom?” (Y/N) asks while crying.

“I killed her to take you with me to our home” He says smiling down at you.

(Y/N) let’s a loud cry out and starts to shake.

“I’m sorry for hurting you doll but I need you with me” He says holding your body close to his.

“I don’t even know your name or anything about you” (Y/N) says trying to calm herself down.

“My name is Bucky doll and I need you to pack up all your clothes and everything you need now because we need to leave soon. I took some of your clothes and other stuff to the car but go get what I missed.” Bucky says getting off the bed and waiting for you to move but you don’t.

“NOW DOLL”Bucky yells at you.

“I’m sorry I’m going”(Y/N) says getting up and going through drawers and the closet and takes a little bit of clothes and other stuff and looks back at her bed and takes the two stuffed animals with her.

Bucky takes her downstairs and puts your stuff in the car and he looks down at you.

“I’m sorry I have to do this doll but I need our location safe”Bucky says pulling out a needle and injects you in the neck and you pass out instantly.

Location unknown

“Hello…… hello Bucky are you there?”

“Good morning doll I’m so happy your awake, come on I have something to show you”Bucky says helping you out of bed and takes you to a dark room and turns on the light in the room and (Y/N) looks into the room to see hundreds or thousands of photos of her from years ago up to two days ago.

“How……long have you been stalking me?” (Y/N) asks as tears run down her face.

“I’ve been keeping you safe for years doll I’ve killed for you and made sure no one had you before me”

“Who else have you killed besides my mother?” (Y/N) asks looking up at Bucky.

“I killed Jake,Lucas and that bitch who picked on you Alice and her family and that guy you had a crush on last summer Mike was his name I think.”Bucky says looking at you.

“Why would you kill so many people for me Bucky?” (Y/N) asks.

“Because they would have taken you from me or hurt you and I need to keep you safe I would burn down the whole world for you my love”Bucky says pulling (Y/N) close kisses your lips softly.

“Bucky please stop, I don't want any of this.”(Y/N) says trying to get out of Bucky’s arms.

“(Y/N) please you will understand with time why I did all this and what I would do for you and your love”Bucky says holding you tightly.

“Bucky you’re hurting me I…..I can’t breathe please let me go”(Y/N) says trying to get out of his arms again.

“(Y/N) you need to stop moving, I don't want to hurt you.”Bucky says, holding onto you tighter.

(Y/N) looks up at him and everything starts to go black and you stop moving.

“Don’t worry doll I’m never going to let you go, (Y/N)?” Bucky asks, looking down at you and sees you're not moving and barely breathing.

“(Y/N) please wake up I need you I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you please wake up”Bucky yells at you and tries to wake you up and feels for your pulse and feels it getting stronger and sees you moving.

The world that you knew is now gone and replaced with a new one where you belong to Bucky and no one else matters and he’s been stalking you for years and now you're stuck with him forever.

[moosereblogsfics]

No Motive

pairing: serial killer! steve x serial killer!bucky x reader 

warnings: DUBCON, kind of non con, serial killer au, horror, slight dacryphilia, violence, smut, p in v, manipulation/coercion, facial, creampie, mentions of virginity loss, masturbation, MINORS DNI, dead dove do not eat. read at your own risk

summary:  “Surprise, Sidney!” 

a/n: this is a Scream / Grease inspired entry for @boxofbonesfic​ Friday The 13th challenge for Serial Killer! this is my first time writing anything dark but I had a lot of fun (i love horror/horror movies so this was a fun exercise). thank you so much bones for hosting this super fun challenge and i hope everyone had an absolutely spooktacular Friday the 13th!

word count: 1287 (cutting it close whew)

“Doors locked. Windows and blinds shut. No trips to anywhere but the grocery store or work, during daylight hours. No one is permitted to be outside of their homes after dark.”

That was what the police said. So why the hell were you outside right now? You snuck a quick glance at your boyfriend, who was driving carefree with the windows down.

“You cold, babe?” He shouted over the wind, looking over at you to flash you a cocky smirk. He looked beautiful, and that’s why you were here.

“No,” you mustered, but it was a lie. The anxiety caused by your forbidden outing induced a tremor in your hands as you pressed down your skirt. Steve would be so disappointed if he knew how you were feeling. Wasn’t this romantic? In the very least, it was what all the other couples did at school. 

It was what Steve’s ex-girlfriends did with him. 

You fought the urge to flip down the little vanity mirror and check your lipstick, make sure you looked pretty enough for him. Instead, you looked over at him with a smile and reached over to squeeze his thigh suggestively. That’s how you were supposed to do it, right? 

The crunching of gravel under Steve’s tires drew your attention to the little road that you’ve pulled off onto. You’ve never been here, but you recognized it from its infamy— Lover’s Lake, where all the couples used to come to get a little… privacy. Nobody came here anymore, though.

Not since the killings started. 

Your tongue darted out to wet your dry lips nervously, and you felt your heart pounding in fear. 

“Steve, is this a good idea?” you eked out, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and nibbling at the flesh nervously. Without even looking at you, Steve grasped your chin in his forefinger and eased your lip out from your teeth before running over it with his thumb. 

He’s so good to you. He knew you so well. So why didn’t you feel safe right now? 

But your stomach roiled when he sighed, clearly disappointed in you as he spared an irritated look before pulling the car to stop facing the lake. “Babe, I told you this already, remember? We can’t let the killer win. When we let them control us, let them make us afraid, they win.” 

“But Steve, what if the killer shows up?”

“Hey,” he said, placing a warm hand on the back of your neck and letting his fingers press on your spine. “I’m here, baby. Now go get your cute ass in the backseat.” Steve laughed when you squeaked at the pat on your butt as you made your way to the backseat. 

As you sat down, you couldn’t get over how… wrong it felt. Like the ghosts of the three girls that died here were watching you, telling you to get out of here. It was disrespectful at best, dangerous for a fact. But you didn’t have it in you to say no to Steve. 

He settled next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulders as the two of you looked out to the lake. Your heart beat faster when his fingers toyed with the straps of your dress and bra, before he inched them off your shoulder. 

“Oops,” he laughed. It sounded harsher than you were used to, and you couldn’t hold back your discomfort anymore. You turned to him, ready to voice your objections when he captured your lips with his own. 

“Steve-” 

“Shh, baby,” he interrupted you, pulling down your top entirely to expose your tits to him. He kneaded the flesh between his palms, groaning and watching your nipples peak in response to his ministrations. “God, you’re so pretty. So innocent. Knew you’d be the best girlfriend a fella could ever have.” The pride that swelled within you at his words squashed the discomfort within you, and you leaned in to kiss him with a smile. 

You shut your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in his kisses as his hands wandered up and down your body. You didn’t object when he pulled your dress and bra off, pulled your panties off and laid you down on the leather seats of his car. 

“You see how hard I am for you, baby?” Steve groans, grabbing your hand and putting it on his bulge as he rocked his clothed thigh against your bare core. Steve Rogers, the one guy that everyone wanted, the captain of the football team, the all-American golden boy wanted you. 

Steve slid his jeans off, sitting in one of the seats as he pumped his shaft twice and pulled your hips between his legs, aligning your slick cunt with his tip and driving his hips up to inch into you. You stifled your discomfort, trying to hide your winces and the tears that sprung in your eyes as he eased into your tight hole. You couldn’t let him know that you were a virgin, what would he think? 

But you knew when you met Steve’s wolfish gaze, it wasn’t something you could hide from him. 

“Are you a virgin, baby?” He cooed at you, condescension lacing his tone. You nodded and shut your eyes, when the sound of the door opening forced your eyes open.

Bucky, Steve’s best friend, slid into the seat next to yours. “Getting started without me, huh, pal?” Steve laughed harshly at that, exposing your body for Bucky to see. Mortification sent blood rushing through your body but Steve didn’t seem to care as he squeezed and flicked your tits, continuing to fuck into you. “You gonna let me join in, Stevie?” 

“Not this time,” Steve grunted, turning to Bucky as he used your body. “This one’s a virgin.” 

“Lucky,” Bucky asserted, unbuckling and sliding his already-hard cock out from his jeans. “Spit,” he instructed you, putting his hand in front of your mouth then using it as lubrication to stroke himself as he watched Steve fuck you. “You wanna cry, baby?” he asked you as he watched you, noting the stiffness of your body. “Yeah, I bet it hurts. C’mon, then, cry.” 

You let the tears flow freely from you as Steve picked up the pace, uncaring about your pain as he drove further into you. But it didn’t take long for the pain to shift to pleasure, the fullness from Steve making your head loll against his shoulder. 

Bucky pulled you down to face his cock, surprising you as he sprayed his release on your face, almost making you cry again as his cum mixed with your lipstick. Inexplicably, though, it triggered that blissful feeling that you’ve only felt on your own, clenching tighter on Steve’s cock as your vision whited out. 

“Shit, you like that?” Steve snickered, cumming into you as your body slacked. He pulled you off unceremoniously, swinging you into his arms only to dump your nude body in the passenger seat. “I gotta go piss,” he called out, slamming the door as Bucky trailed behind him. 

Bored, you opened the glovebox in search of napkins to clean your face, but when your fingers brushed against dainty metal, your heart stuttered. 

Inside Steve’s glovebox lay three bloodstained necklaces, ones that you knew belonged to the dead girls because you recognized each little pendant— Darla’s pink rhinestone, Charlotte’s teddy bear, Jeanie’s heart locket. 

“You weren’t supposed to see that, sweetheart,” Steve said from behind you. You saw the blood from your neck spray onto the windshield before you got the chance to scream.  

“That’s gonna be a pain to get out,” Bucky commented, before the darkness swallowed you whole.

[branded-witha-j]

You go to church with the sheriff, he's there every Sunday, hearing the word, same as you. Your mama says it's not proper, for your face to heat up and your belly to tingle every time he tips his hat in your direction asking in that low drawl if there's anything he can do for you. You know she wouldn't approve of you and him at the drive-in with no chaperone--but he's the sheriff for goodness sake! And if you're not safe with the sheriff, then who are you safe with?

😈

Congrats on 7k! Thank you for the prompt and here is my submission for the Monkey's Paw challenge. This is my first time doing a writing challenge and I had so much fun writing this for everyone. I hope you enjoy it! 🖤

18+ only! No minors! This is a dark fic!

• Dark!Sheriff Bodecker x naive!reader •

• Word Count: 1.3k •

•Warnings: dub/non-con, age gap (reader is of age), manipulation, degradation, dumbification, loss of virginity, breeding, southern grammar where I throw a bunch of apostrophes and the letter A around to make it sound twangy, stuff where Lee is being Lee. •

•Summary: You're his buttercup and he can't wait to pick ya. •

Beta read by @nocturne-pisces 🖤

Hell is empty and all the devils are here. - William Shakespeare, The Tempest

Sheriff Bodecker's gaze creates a flush of heat that you can't never seem to hide, your Mama none too happy every time he tips his hat in your direction. She liked to say that ‘the Devil lives among us, disguised with lies and saccharine temptation’, and that's how she sees the Sheriff, uneasy ‘bout his intentions with you.

He always takes the pew in the back, his gaze eventually falling on you, and remaining there for the entire service. Lee Bodecker is a weekly repentant devil with a badge, also known as the most powerful man in Ross County. His smile is a little too broad for some folks, but for you it's as sweet and tart as a wild blackberry ripened to perfection on a thick bramble. His temptation is swollen fruit on a vine, his thorns hidden and ready to snag skin.

He gives you buttercups, each one pressed between the pages of your worn bible every Sunday night. He does it when your Mama is somewhere catchin' up on the weekly gossip, tucking the yellow wild flower within your hair as honeyed words fall from his wicked lips.

"When’re you gonna let me take ya out, buttercup?"

He's persistent, but gentle about it, each picked flower and brief touch winning you over more and more, until your Mama's words are all but forgotten.

He always smells of smoky aftershave and a cigarette he sneaked off to have after Sunday service. But it's hypnotizing, even just the slightest whiff of tobacco in passing on Main Street makin' you think about him. And, boy, do you ache for the attention of Lee Bodecker. He's made sure of it, each brush of his fingertips bringing you closer until his words are exhaled hotly in your ear.

The heat is sweltering, a hand wafted in front of the face only stirrin' the hot air around. The smell of drive-in popcorn and burgers is almost nauseating, a much needed reprieve given in the sound of your name. It's the Sheriff, and the sight of him sauntering up with his hands on his belt has a coil tightening within your belly. It's a feeling you can't get used to, a sensation only associated with him.

He gets you away from your friends with a fib about your Mama, something about her needing you home. He escorts you by the arm to his cruiser, the white car tucked away in a secluded corner of the lot. When he tucks you into the passenger seat, you expect him to do as he said he would and take you home, but the engine remains silent.

"Sheriff Bodecker?"

He says nothin' for a few seconds, pulling off his campaign hat for safekeeping on the backseat. You don't quite understand what's going on and a fresh buttercup presents itself under your nose, a delighted look crossing your face.

"A buttercup for my buttercup."

He tucks it away into your hair, the little bloom forgotten as soon as his lips ghost along your jaw, your hands coming up to brace at his broad chest. You can feel the starch in his shirt and the pointed tips of his badge, your world flipped as he lays you on your back against the bench seat.

"Sheriff–" His palm silences you, a click of his tongue emphasizing his disapproval as he shakes his head.

Keeping you gagged, his other hand slips up beneath your skirt, bunching it up to expose your cotton panties. Fingers trace along your thigh and you tense, whimpering against his palm.

"Shhh, buttercup. I just wanna make ya feel good."

His thorns snag your flesh, pulling you in deep, and when the metallic jangle of his belt fills the narrow space, your thighs try to clap together. You trap his hand between them and gasp as his fingers touch you for the first time, rubbin’ against the damp cotton.

"Why you wet? You'a whore for ya Sheriff?"

He keeps your legs parted with his hips and the gentle man you once knew is truly the devil as he tears down your panties, letting them hang from one ankle. He releases your mouth to work his pants down, gripping himself as his tip drags against your swollen cunt.

"Sheriff...Lee... my Mama won't–" A sharp pinch cuts off your words, and a whine is released into the collar of his shirt, the seat creaking as he slams himself deep. You try to speak again, but his hand returns to your mouth, steel blue eyes looking into yours as he snarls.

"Shut your fuckin' mouth." Eyes well with tears and he punctuates each word with a thrust. "You're mine, buttercup, and there ain't a goddamn thing that Mama a’yours is gonna do about it."

The Devil is inside you and you invited him in with your sweet smile and melodic laughter. You pant and clutch to the Sheriff, his mouth hot at your ear as you cry out for a God that ain't listenin’ no more.

"I'm gonna fill this hot 'lil snatch up. Send ya home to your Mama with my cum drippin' out of ya." His words make you clench, and you don't understand why, his groan of satisfaction vibrating through you. "You want my baby, dontcha? Stupid girl too goddamn dumb to listen to her Mama. I'm gonna fill ya up nice and full. You want that, buttercup? Want me to put my baby in ya?"

He fucks you. Not the slow, gentle way you always imagined, but frantic and bittersweet. He burns with every thrust of his hips, your cries of his name making his eyes roll back in head. He revels knowing this was worth the wait, worth all the sweet-talkin', worth every buttercup plucked from the dirt. 

"Oh, God-" His tongue delves into your mouth to swallow your cry for deliverance, showing you that he's the only one you should be worshipping.

"I knew you was a tight 'lil bitch the second I seen ya. Just perfect for the pickin'. Gonna make the perfect little housewife."

The heat that spreads through your gut is as hot as the brimstone and hellfire you pray nightly to avoid. But you're lost to it, the forked tongue of temptation burning his mark within your womb, claiming you as his for eternity. The Sheriff is silenced by his violent release, thrusting until every last drop of his seed is where it belongs.

The windows have fogged up, condensation turning them opaque. You don't know what time it is, if the movie is still playing, or if you should cry. As the Sheriff lifts himself from you, head ducking down to watch you separate, he groans at the sight of his cum spillin’ from your pretty, sore, fucked-out cunt.

"I filled ya up good, buttercup." He falls back against the driver's door with a loud exhale, reaching down to tuck himself away before tugging his pants back on. You move to sit up, but he clicks his tongue, nudging you back down onto the seat. "I just wanna look atcha. For just a bit longer."

You feel his hand trailing along your leg and the panties danglin’ from your ankle are balled up in his fist to be shoved away in his pant's pocket. You want to protest, knowin’ your Mama will notice they're missing, but he shakes his head, telling you they're his now.

"You're all mine, or did ya forget already?" He starts the cruiser, rolling down his window to see through the fog, and looks down at where you still lie beside him. "I think it's time we tell your Mama you ain't her little girl anymore. You belong to me now."

[lokislastlove]

An Asgardian Wedding! You’ve never left your world before, but your betrothed is eager to show you his. You’d never even expected to meet the God of thunder, let alone be his. Your husband-to-be whisks you away to the planet of his birth just before your nuptials for a special surprise.

😈

Guessing Game

Warnings: implied Noncon, groping, blindfolds, implied cuckolding, multiple men…

Notes: sooooo I don’t know how I feel about this one, it was fun to imagine, hard to write. But it’s all I got! 😭 at least you had some great submissions from other people! also Congrats @boxofbonesfic love! You deserve every follower! 💕

“Surely he explained all of our traditions?” Loki inquires, standing before a set of grand golden doors in a quiet wing of the palace.

“He said it would be nothing I couldn’t handle…”

With a flourish and a flash of green, Loki summons a silky black blindfold. His dark chuckle makes you tense as he takes a cool step behind you and secures it tightly over your eyes, holding your shoulders as he whispers in your ear.

“The task is simple, darling, identify your betrothed caress and see your union prosper…but should you fall prey to false hands be prepared to suffer your shame.”

“What does that mean?” You object as he laughs and urges you over the threshold, your tentative steps the only sound reverberating through the cavernous room.

“Good luck,” Lokis voice slithers from behind you before the door shuts.

The echo of the slam fills your ears. Your shuddering breath hitches in the following silence, vulnerability settling in as you strain to listen for signs of life.

“Let’s begin,” the familiar thunderous voice of your fiancé sounds from somewhere to your right. “Loki, use your magic.”

Your remain still and silent, awaiting further instruction.

“Done,” Thors voice sounds again, though this time from behind you where Loki had been seconds ago.

“Oh, neat party trick, Loki. How have we never tried this before, I could think of so many things –“

“Focus, Fandral.”

Your head whips around in a panic as you follow their discussion, but… they all have that same honey sweet, sonorous voice of Thor. Realization dawns on you, you are going to have to pick the real one among however many decoys.

“Thor, I don’t know about this,” you quiver as you hear each of their footsteps slowly circling you, making it impossible to guess where your fiancé is.

You spin in place, an innocent doe guarding against an unseen pack of wolves. Thor would never hurt you, right? It’s just your nerves.

You flinch and squeak as you hear the first of them approach you, a warm hand grazing down your arm making you leap back and into the chest of another. Familiarly large arms catch each elbow and hold you still.

“Let me touch you, pet,” his voice soothes as you feel the tickle of his fingertips dance across your chest, tracing your collarbone.

“Thor?” You whimper and his rumbling laughter vibrates your back, a sound that used to calm you.

Another grabs your chin, rough thumb gently tugging at your bottom lip, “beautiful.”

Their touch is overwhelming, caressing your arms, kissing your hands, gripping your hips, tickling your neck. You manage to count five of them before you get dizzy with attention, sweeping you away from what the goal here is.

“You can do this,” Thors voice grounds you.

“Maybe try to narrow your options…” another coos before his lips suckle tenderly on your shoulder.

“I think she likes it,” adds the one at your back.

“Do you, pet? Do you enjoy the idea of being taken by many?”

You gasp as a hand snakes under your skirts, finger presses along the damp fabric covering your slit. Your knees buckle but Thors many hands barely let you sag in their hold.

“Yes,” you breathe softly.

“Oh how delightful,” Thor groans as the hand at your cunt presses harder.

The other touches grow more eager, feeding off your tiny whimpers and moans. Teeth scratch and nip at your skin as your hips begin to roll against his thick fingers, a feeling you know well by now.

A harsh slap to your ass reminds you where you are and you sputter out, “w-wait.”

“Do you have your answer?” He asks.

You pull your hand free and grip the hand holding your hip, “not you.”

Thors booming laughter shifts into another’s gruffer voice, “Aye, you caught me my lady.”

You recognize Volstagg’s amused tone then the soft pad of his leather boots as he walks away followed shortly by the scuff of a heavy chair across the floor.

“One down,” the Thor at your back muses as he licks up your neck.

“You, aren’t Thor,” you assert, pointing to the man at your back.

“Dammit,” Fandral whines as the magic drops and he joins Volstagg.

“Clever girl,” one of the remaining Thors praise, his hand drifting down your thigh and curving around to cup your cheek.

The touch feels familiar, Thor loves to fondle your ass. You are about to declare him the real one when he lets out a breathy groan, it’s enough to give you pause. Thor knows you, and that was the sound of someone newly enamored with your body.

“No,” you look toward the man giving your cheek a firm squeeze.

“Ah,” Hogan sighs in disappointment before disappearing.

“Very good,” says one of the final two, tugging your arm so that you slam into his chest. His mouth covers yours in a heated kiss, his tongue dipping into your mouth as you gasp.

The other Thor is at your back, pulling your hips back to grind against his hard cock. “Easy,” he warns, though your unsure if it’s meant for you or the man stealing your breath. “Are you stalling, little girl?“ he whispers into your ear.

The man at your front releases your lip with a pop and slaps your face lightly. “You should know your answer by now,” he agrees. “Choose.”

“I – I…” you reach out blindly, turning so that you can touch each of their identical chests. You try to focus on the way they react as you feel them, before making your final decision.

“Only my Thor could kiss me like that,” you announce, turning toward your fiancé and pulling the blindfold off.

You run your hands up his torso, feeling the firm hot muscles beneath his tunic and smile up at him. His blue eyes glow a bit too brightly, his smile a smidge too wide and in an instant you realize your mistake. Blue shifts to green, blond to black, full lips thinning as his golden skin pales to reveal the victorious visage of Loki.

“I guess you don’t know him as well as you thought,” Loki smirks cruelly.

You turn with a start to find Thor glowering down at you, anger and disappointment radiating from every inch of him. A flicker of lightning sparks in his dark eyes as they snap to his brother behind you.

“Loki,” he growls in warning, puffing out his chest as the sound of thunder cracks beyond the closed doors.

“You should have been honest with her, brother,” Loki chuckles. “Your confidence proves undeserved just as I expected. But you always were too arrogant for your own good.”

“Loki,” Thor growls deeper as Loki tugs your wrist and wraps his arm around your waist.

“Never fear, brother,” Loki coos, brushing his nose up your neck as he stares down your fiancé. “I won’t make you watch. And I shall return her to you in the morning if you still want her.”

“Thor…” you whimper, reaching out as the world is enveloped in a flash of green.

Your head spins like you just spent an hour on a rollercoaster, but you know it been barely a second. Loki spins you around, gripping your arms harshly as you try to blink away your blurred vision. Your hands shove at his firm chest but he doesn’t budge, only pulling you closer as he leans down to place kisses along your jaw.

“Come now, pet. We only have a few hours left before sunrise. Let’s make the most of it.”

[thatdarkfanficstuff]

You’ve had relationships before, but nothing like what you have with Stephen. It’s only been a few months, but your gut tells you he might be the one. Sure, it’s fast, but no one has ever treated you like he has. He’s thoughtful, attentive—perhaps a little overprotective, but he’d taken your criticism in stride with a smile, more than Kevin or Troy ever had. No, what you have with Stephen Strange is going somewhere. You can tell.

😈

Title: Going Somewhere

Pairing: Dark!Stephen Strange x Reader

A/N: This is for @boxofbonesfic's monkey paw challenge. This was fun. Thanks for the prompt lovely!

WC: 1312

You never thought you’d find someone like Stephen Strange. The deep connection you’d felt with him had been almost instantaneous. From all appearances, the feeling was mutual. Stephen doted on you. Loved you. He was so protective. So invested in your life. He was almost perfect. Well, perfect for you at any rate and that was all that really mattered.

You’d been searching for him for fifteen minutes before you found him reading in the library. He sat in his favorite chair with his legs crossed and the book balanced in his lap. You stepped up behind him and looped your arms around his neck. One of his hands rested on your arm and you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m getting ready to leave. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

His smile grew tight. “And where is it that you’re going?”

You straightened and came around the chair to face him while you talked. “I told you yesterday that I’m going out with the girls tonight.”

He closed his book and folded his hands on top of it. “That’s not what I asked. Where are you going?”

His tone had an undercurrent you didn’t care for. “We’re going to a club Carol wanted to try. It’s her turn to pick.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. That’s far too dangerous,” he said with a small shake of his head. “Anything could happen in an environment like that. It’s too unpredictable.”

“You can’t be serious. I’ll be with Black Widow, Scarlet Witch, Captain Marvel and Valkyrie. Anyone that even looks at us funny will regret it.” You didn’t know where this was coming from all of a sudden. He had a tendency to worry and be a little overprotective but he’d never tried to control you like this before.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I said no. That’s final.”

“I don’t really care what you say, Stephen. I’m going out with my friends. We can discuss this tomorrow when you’ve come to your senses and I’ve had time to cool off.” You turned your back on him to leave the room only for the doors to slam shut just before you reached them. A spark of unease sat heavy in your chest.

You jiggled the handles and tugged on them trying to open the door. When it didn’t work, you slammed your palm against it. You turned back to your boyfriend with a scowl. “Open the door, Stephen.”

He shook his head again as he got to his feet. “It’s for your own good. Trust me. I have only your best interests at heart. Don’t you trust that I know what’s best for you? Haven’t I always taken care of you?”

A shiver went up your spine with his words. Less than an hour ago you would have said yes without hesitation. Now something about the way he said it scared the shit out of you. What had gotten into him? This was a totally different man than the one you had grown to love.

“I’m not asking. You need to let me leave.” You tried to sound firm but a tremor in your voice betrayed you.

He closed the distance between you and you took an involuntary step backward. Your back met the wood of the door keeping you from escaping. He reached out and traced the line of your face with the back of his hand. His eyes ran over your features. All you saw in his gaze was the love he had for you. No hint of the crazy he was currently exhibiting.

“It is my duty to protect you. Even from yourself and your own poor decisions. That was apparent from the moment we met.” He placed his palms on either side of your head and braced himself against the door. “I’ve been patient with you, my love. So patient as I steered you toward the correct path. I wanted to make you see. To make the correct choices on your own. But every time I thought we were making progress, you’d push back. Put yourself in danger again. Expose yourself to the evils of the world.”

“Stephen.” Your voice wavered as tears flooded your eyes. You were terrified. If you could just get through this, you would disappear from his life. You’d stay with Nat or Carol for awhile. Stephen wouldn’t cross them. “You’re scaring me.”

“I’m scaring you? All the chaos I’ve protected you from and it’s me that you fear?”

You flinched as he yelled. This Stephen was unpredictable. Volatile.

He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. It’s just that I’m always so worried about you. It’s exhausting.”

“But you don’t need to worry about me. Everything will be fine. You just need to let me out of here.” You kept your tone measured, patient. Maybe if you soothed him a bit he’d let you go.

He nodded. “You are right, sweetheart. It is far past time that you leave here.”

He stepped back and extended his hands and made the circular motion he used to open a portal. You didn’t even have time to react before he grabbed your arm and pulled you with him as he stepped through. It shut behind you and you glanced around the room you now found yourself in.

A bed sat in one corner, made up and ready for use. Another corner held a toilet and a sink. There was a mini fridge and cabinets that held who knew what. There was also a fully stocked bookshelf and a TV. It appeared ready to live in. But none of that really bothered you. No, what had tears running down your cheeks as your lip trembled was the fact that all of this was contained within four cinderblock walls. Solid cinderblock walls with no doors or windows. The only way in or out appeared to be via portal.

“What is this place?” Your voice was little more than a whisper.

“It’s your new home,” Stephen answered sounding far more pleased than the situation warranted. “Don’t worry. It’s only until I’ve taught you to make better decisions. I only want you safe.”

You wrapped your arms around your middle and shivered as he moved around the room showing you where everything was. It seemed he’d thought of everything. Including not leaving you anything you could use to hurt yourself, though if you put your mind to it, you could probably come up with something. But you weren’t to that level of desperation. Not yet anyway.

“You can’t leave me here.”

He tilted his head and smirked slightly. “Of course, I can.”

“People will look for me. They’ll want to know where I am.” You were scrambling, trying to find any ragged thread of hope to hold on to.

He smiled then. “I have just the spell for that. I will be the only one with any memory of you.”

A broken sob tore from your throat. Why was this happening to you? How had your perfect life turned sour so fast?

Stephen opened a portal to return to the sanctum.

You shook your head. “I thought you loved me,” you called after him as he stepped through. You were desperate to keep him with you even if he was to blame for all this. You didn’t want to be left alone.

He turned back to look at you. “Of course, I love you. Look at everything I’ve done for you.”

The portal closed and you fell to the ground, your shaking knees no longer able to hold you. You curled into the fetal position and wept. Your heart was a broken tattered thing but you still found yourself wishing Stephen would come back to you. Come back to this room where he’d hidden you from a world that had already forgotten you existed.

[lunarbuck]

Dumb Bunny (dark!winter soldier xf!reader)

a dark little red riding hood retelling

pairing: dark!winter soldier x f! reader (any race)

wc: 3.3k

summary: The Wolf sees you walking through the forest on your way to your grandmother's house, and he just can't help himself.

warnings: dark fic, knives, oral (f receiving), smut (p in v), pet names [bunny], degradation, primal play, predator/prey, fear, crying

a/n: this is my entry for @boxofbonesfic's fairytale writing challenge :) I hope you guys enjoy!

beta'd by the amazing @sgt-seabass <3

my masterlist

The sight of your home village warms your heart. You’ve been away for so long and missed so much. It’s good to be back. You pull the hood of your cape up to keep the sun off your face and venture into the heart of the village. 

After gathering some sweets and a few loaves of bread, you bid farewell to the friendly faces you pass. As lovely as the village is, you can’t shake the feeling that something is just slightly… wrong.

The edge of the forest calls to you, the familiar sound of songbirds lulling you in. You’ve traveled this path hundreds of times; you know it with your eyes closed, even after all this time. Beautifully bright flowers bloom just off the beaten path. You gaze at them but don’t stop to pick any. Grandmother is expecting you. It’s been so long since you’ve seen her, you feel guilty you haven’t visited sooner.

As you walk, you hear footsteps crunch through the fallen leaves. You turn around, the hem of your cape fluttering with the movement. Behind you, you see a tall mountain of a man. Cloaked in black, the man stalks toward you. You’ve heard whisperings of him in town, the Wolf, they call him. 

“Excuse me, miss,” he coos, voice deep and gravelly. “Where are you headed? A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be alone in these woods,” he whispers. “There is danger around every corner.” 

You know what people say about the Wolf, the things he’s rumored to have done. That he’s a killer, that he roams the woods hunting unsuspecting victims. He’s ruthless, coldblooded and animal-like in his violence. You’re sure the rumors are true as you gaze up at his bright eyes. Fear flashes through your mind as you stare at him. His eyes are a stark, beautiful blue. His hair, dark and inky, frames his face, though most of it is covered by a black mask. 

“I’m visiting my grandmother’s house,” you tell him, smiling politely. You’ve always been taught to be kind to strangers, and this stranger, in particular, the way he’s looking at you, seems to scream danger. You don’t want to risk slighting him.

“Ah,” the Wolf replies, raising his eyebrows. “And what might you have there in your basket?” You move the cloth, showing the Wolf your various sweets and loaves of bread. You imagine he is licking his lips behind his mask. Images of his lips on you, of him kissing you deeply, of him tasting you, flash through your mind, and you quickly shut your eyes. You try to shake off the heat that’s settled in your belly. You shouldn’t think that way about a stranger.

“Well, I must be going. Grandmother is expecting me.” You nod to the Wolf and cover your basket, returning to the path you’d been following. Each breath feels tight in your chest.

“What a shame,” he calls. “The birds are singing so sweetly.” Your steps slow as you allow yourself to listen to the songs that float through the air, but you continue on. You can always listen to the birds as you walk.

“Ah, but the flowers are so beautiful this time of year. Wouldn’t your grandmother enjoy a bouquet?” The Wolf asks, again halting your walking. You glance at the flowers off the path, practically preening for you in the sunlight. Grandmother has always loved the wildflowers; maybe you could spare a few moments to gather a small bouquet. 

“I suppose…” You glance back at the Wolf, finding that he has continued to follow you down the path. He’s so close now that if you breathed deeply, your back would touch his chest. Your heart stutters with fear. How did he move so quickly without you hearing? How did you not feel him approach?

“You don’t want to miss out on all the beauty,” he whispers, leaning down beside your ear. With two long fingers, the Wolf tugs your hood off your head, letting the breeze flutter against your neck. He breathes deeply, and your knees wobble as you feel the heat the Wolf emanates. Something sharp trails down your neck, a stinging pain following close behind, and your eyes widen.

Not even a breath later, he’s gone. You shudder at his sudden absence and quickly dart your eyes around, looking for the Wolf, but he’s disappeared into the shadows. 

You try to calm your nerves, focusing instead on the flowers glittering just a few paces away. You kneel down, gathering your skirts to prevent them from getting dirty. The flowers are soft against your fingertips as you pick the perfect ones. All the while, the Wolf’s beautiful blue eyes burn in your mind.

The Wolf

Poor, poor grandmother, I think to myself as I drag the woman out of her woodland home and into the glade. She’ll wake up eventually, but not before I do what I want. Not before I take care of her sweet, beautiful little granddaughter. 

I go back into the house and take in the empty space. Photos of my little bunny are everywhere, school photos and memories of vacations. She looks so delectable in her too-small bikini, her bright smile practically blinding me. 

Next, I climb the stairs, finding myself in the room I had just dragged her grandmother from. The four-poster bed takes up most of the room, fabric hanging from the top of the frame like a canopy. I grin at the thought of taking my bunny here, her tears staining the blanket. Her screams filling the air. I feel myself hardening in my pants, and I adjust my cock.

When I saw her walking through town, my mouth watered. She looked so beautiful in her red cloak, the sun warming her skin. She looked good enough to fucking eat. I followed her from a distance, but once she entered the forest, I couldn’t hold back any longer. The smell of her when I got close… I could barely hold myself back. I wanted to grab her right then and there. I wanted to fuck her into the dirt. But good things come to those who wait. 

I am not a patient man, and I always get what I want. Always.

So, I lay down on the bed, the canopy concealing me well enough, and wait. 

And wait, and wait.

Until I hear the door creak open. 

“Grandmother?” My bunny calls. I can practically hear the smile on her lips. I grin beneath my mask, fingers itching to touch her. To mark her. I hear her footsteps as she wanders into the house. My heartbeat speeds up, ready for the hunt. 

“Grandmother?” She calls again, this time even closer. I see her shadow as she comes up the stairs, and a moment later, she pushes open the bedroom door. “Oh, Grandmother, are you ill?” Through the canopy, I see her set down a vase of flowers, the ones she picked in the woods, and her basket, full of sweets.  

Her fingers gently curl around the canopy’s fabric and tug it aside. Her eyes widen, and her lips part on a scream, but I’m already moving. I lunge, grab her, and push her down onto the mattress. My hand presses over her mouth, absorbing her scream.

“So fucking beautiful when you scream, bunny,” I growl, dipping my head into the crook of her neck. I breathe her in, the sweet scent of fear mixing with the floral scent of her perfume.

My bunny writhes and struggles against me, but it’s no use. I’m bigger than her, stronger than her. She’ll never escape me. She heaves her breath behind my hand, so I take it off of her, not minding if she screams. No one will hear her anyways. 

“What– what are you doing?” She whimpers, tears streaking down her face.

I don’t answer. Instead, I straddle her hips, pinning her to the bed. I run my hands along her torso and up to her breasts. She fits perfectly in my hands, and I flick my eyes to hers, watching her reaction. I can see the way she struggles with herself. The way she wants to give in to me, but something holds her back. 

“Oh, bunny,” I whisper, my hands coming up to curl around her neck. “What a beautiful neck you have.” I squeeze her neck lightly, giving her just a taste of what I want, and I see the way her pupils dilate. Her hips jolt up into mine, and I grin beneath my mask.

She breathes heavily, lips parting into a perfect, soft ‘o’. “And what perfect lips you have.” I move one hand up, running my thumb across her beautiful mouth. I lean down close, cupping her jaw. 

I want to taste her, I want to rip this fucking mask off my face and taste my little bunny, but I can’t. Not yet. I need to be patient. I sit up, slipping a knife out of my belt and flicking it open. Her eyes widen at the glinting blade.

“Please,” she whispers, tears brimming in her eyes again. “Please don’t hurt me.” I grin.

“My poor, stupid, little bunny. The more you beg me not to, the more I want to hurt you.” She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and I stifle a moan. I don’t know how I’ve lived so long without her, how I’m going to go on living if I don’t have her by my side.

“What did you do to my grandmother?” She asks, voice wavering.

“You don’t want to know, bunny.” Her tears stream down her cheeks, and she hiccups as she sobs. She’s fucking perfect. I take in the sight of her blood-red cloak stark against the white sheets. I run the knife along the side of her face, not cutting or scratching her but letting her feel the sharp edge. 

I slide off the bed, dragging the knife down the center of her sternum between her breasts and down her torso. I see the thoughts running through her pretty little head. I know she wants to run. I hope she does. I step back and watch her fingers twitch before she darts off the bed. Her red cape flutters behind her as she saints down the stairs. I give her a head start before giving chase. My little bunny is more perfect than she could ever know.

After taking a steadying breath, I take off after my bunny. She left the front door open, and I catch sight of the hem of her cape as she dives behind a tree. She ran pretty far, I’ll give her that, but she won’t escape me. Never.

My feet pound on the ground as I chase her, adrenaline coursing through my veins. She keeps running, doing her best to hide as she goes deeper into the forest, but she’s not fast enough. I catch up quickly, making sure she knows just how close I am. Whenever she hears my boots snap a twig, she yelps, tripping over her feet. As we get further away from the house, she loses steam. I grin as she stumbles, constantly looking back to see me hunting her. 

Bunny’s cape gets caught on a branch, and she falls, landing hard in the dirt. She tries to crawl away, but she knows it’s no use. I stalk toward her, loving the way she shakes with each breath, and sink to the ground by her head.

I grip her by her hair, lifting her face out of the dirt, and lean down. “You lose, bunny.” She gasps as I bring out my knife, holding it near her cheek as I turn her. Even though she ran and wants to think she’s afraid of me, I know what she wants. I can fucking smell it on her. Can taste it in the air. 

“Please,” she whispers, fingers digging into the leaves on the ground. Her thighs rub together beneath her skirts, and my mouth waters. I know she won’t run this time, not when she’s so close to getting what she wants.

I remove my mask, tugging it from my face with my other hand. Her lips part as her eyes search my features. I move between her legs, running a hand along one of her legs. I push up her skirt, exposing her soft skin. With my knife, I run the tip along her leg, up and up, until I reach her panties. She can’t hide how needy she is. My bunny writhes in the dirt, begging me to touch her with her big beautiful eyes. I slide my knife beneath the waistband of her panties, slicing the fabric. I cut a matching slit near her other leg, tugging the material away. She shivers as the cool air hits her cunt.

“What a pretty pussy you have, bunny,” I growl, lowering my face to the crux of her thighs. She watches me with lust-filled eyes, nodding like the dumb little bunny she is. I bite her inner thigh, leaving an imprint of my teeth on her skin.

“What beautiful eyes you have,” she tells me, a small smile on her lips. 

“The better to see you with, bunny.” I run my nose along her pussy, and she bites back a moan. My tongue laves along her clit, and I hear her breath hitch. 

“What–” she gasps when I press a finger inside her tight cunt. “What a perfect mouth you have.” I groan against her pussy, devouring her like my last meal. 

“The better to eat you with,” I mutter into her pussy. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. She tastes so fucking sweet, practically dripping against my lips. I knew my bunny would be perfect, but she’s better than I ever could have dreamed. 

“Please, please,” she whimpers, begging for her release. I curl my finger inside of her, looking for the spot that makes her squirm, and brush my teeth over her sensitive clit. My little bunny is so responsive for me, writhing around in the dirt. 

“So fucking sweet, bunny, my own little treat.” Her whimpers get higher pitched, and I know she’s close. I’m practically humping the dirt, I’m so hard, but all I can think about is how good my bunny is being and how fucking perfect she’s going to feel wrapped around my cock. 

I work her right up to the edge, and when she’s gripping my hair so hard she’s about to pull it out, she breaks. She comes all over my tongue and finger, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I crawl up over her, my tongue running over my lips, gathering her taste. “What a good bunny,” I whisper, taking in the sight of her blissed-out expression. She wants more, though, I can tell. 

Her eyes roam over my face, her hands tracing over my features. Her lips part, but she can’t seem to find the words. “Tell me what you want, bunny.” My finger circles her sensitive clit; she jolts. 

She shudders but doesn’t speak. “Come on, bunny. I know you’re afraid. I know that you don’t want to admit it. You want my cock? Is that it, bunny? You want me to fuck you here in the dirt?” Her eyebrows pinch together, and fear flashes in her eyes. She knows I’m dangerous; she knows I am unpredictable.

“You wanna be my dirty bunny?” I ask her, nipping at the soft skin of her neck. “You’re my dumb fucking bunny, you know that? You’re gonna let me fuck you into the dirt, and you’re gonna love every second of it, isn’t that right?”

“Oh my god,” she moans, hips bucking against my fingers. “Please.”

“I need to hear you say it, bunny.” I bite her shoulder hard enough to draw blood, and she gasps. “Tell me that you’re my dumb little bunny. Tell me what you want me to do.”

I see the way she hesitates, the way her mind runs through all the reasons she should fight me, but then I see the shift. I see the moment lust takes over, and she succumbs to her primal desires.

“I’m your dumb little bunny,” she whispers. I slide two fingers into her pussy, scissoring my fingers to stretch her. “And–” she sucks in a breath. “And I want– need you to fuck me.”

“Such a good bunny.” I settle back between her legs and pump my fingers, working her up again. I use my other hand to take off my belt. When my pants are down far enough, I palm my cock, moaning. She watches me with hooded, lust-drunk eyes, and I smirk. My dumb little bunny looks so pretty taking my fingers, but she’ll look even better taking my cock.

I take a long look at her pretty face before I grip her hips and turn her over. Hooking my hands underneath her, I position her with her ass high and her head in the dirt. This is how she was meant to be; she was fucking born for this. 

I line my cock up with her perfect pussy and tease her clit, loving how she jolts each time. My little bunny has never looked better with her skirt shoved up on her waist and her face pressed against the earth.

“What a perfect bunny for me,” I tell her, spanking her ass. I press my cock into her, groaning as she squeezes me. She’s so fucking tight, so perfect, like she was made for me. Made for this. I slide in, loving how she stretches around my dick. Her face screws up the deeper I get, but I don’t give her time to adjust. 

I set a brutal, deep pace, and electricity shoots up my spine. The sounds she’s making, the way her fingers dig into the dirt, are nearly too much for me to handle. The smell of sex and earth floods my nose, and I feel it flood my bloodstream. 

She moans and whimpers with each thrust, pressing back with each thrust, egging me on. My little bunny wants me just as much as I want her. I lean down, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and haul her torso up so she’s kneeling, arching against me. I run my tongue along the spot I’d cut earlier when I’d first spoken to her, tasting the sweet tang of her blood.

My little bunny has tears streaming down her dirt-streaked face. Her eyes are screwed shut as she takes my dick.

“Such a good little bunny,” I groan into her ear. “You were fucking made for this. You were fucking born to be my dumb bunny, to take my cock.” Her cunt flutters around my dick, and my hips stutter.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chants like a prayer. I drop a hand to her clit and circle it in a way that makes her throw her head back, and bite the cut on her neck. The combination of sensations throws her over the edge, and she convulses on my cock.

I press her back into the dirt and pound into her, slamming into her over and over again. I come on a moan, both of us collapsing. “Good bunny,” I whisper. “Such a good little bunny.”

She falls asleep, drained from the way I used her body, and I grin at the sight. She should know better than to fall asleep next to a predator like me. I brush the dirt from my pants, tucking my cock away, and pick her up. I carry her back to her grandmother’s house and lay her on the four-poster bed. 

Next, I retrieve poor old grandmother. She’s still asleep. The drug I gave her will wear off soon. I place her on the couch in the front room. I’ll let my bunny find her when she comes to. I return to the bedroom and stare at my beautiful little bunny. 

I don’t clean her up; I don’t even put her dress back. She looks perfect, dirty, and used against the bone-white sheets.

Just the way I like her.

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[holylulusworld]

Little Red Riding hood lost in the woods

Summary: You knew it was a mistake to go into the woods at night.

Written for: This is my dark and mordern interpretation of Little Red Riding Hood for @boxofbonesfic​​ 𝒪𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒰𝓅𝑜𝓃 𝒜 𝒯𝒾𝓂𝑒…challenge. Congratulations on your milestone again.

Square G2 filled for @allcapsbingo​​: Claim fuck 

Ship: (Alpha) Werewolf!Bucky Barnes x Omega!(LittleRedRidingHood) Reader

Tags/Warnings: angst, chasing, fear, dark!fic, werewolf trope, a/b/o, scenting, marking, mating, huge cock, dub-con, non-con due to monster fucking (yes, you heard right; we will get the big bad wolf this time), smut, unprotected sex, implied breeding kink, biting, blood, transformation, manipulation,  implied kidnapping, the reader is an adult and at age, this story is 18+ 

Words: 1,8+

A/N: Please consider I stepped out of my comfort zone and wrote something dark this time. Head the warnings and read at your own risk. Don’t like, don’t read.

Little Red Riding Hood. 

That’s what people call you. You found it cute when you were younger, adorable even. Now that you are a grown woman, a feisty and stubborn one, it’s not adorable anymore, it’s an offense.

You’re still wearing a red hooded cloak in honor of your grandmother. She passed away some years ago, and you just can’t forget about her, or the fairytales she told you.

About wolves lurking in the dark. Finding their mates by watching, searching, and sniffing around humans. She warned you not to go into the woods after dark. You could only visit her cabin nestled deep in the woods during the daytime.

All your life you listened to her warnings. Never enter the woods after dark. All your life, until tonight. 

Grief held your heart in such a tight grip that you had to visit her cabin. 

It’s not too far from your home, and you believe nothing will happen to you if you follow the path you know by heart. The one framed with wildflowers and the sigils your grandmother carved into the trees. For protection – she always said, while mumbling words you didn’t understand.

If only you listened to her. 

Now you are on the run, chased by a man-sized beast. You only got glimpses of the beast hunting you, but it was enough to know it would kill you if you let it get closer.

“Omega,” it snarls in your direction, knowing that you are hiding behind another tree. “Come to me.”

You gasp as the large wolf-like creature stops in front of the tree. It looks directly at you for a moment. The wolf throws its head back and howls loudly.

“Go away,” you whisper more to yourself than the creature. You place your hand on the tree trunk, praying that the sigils your grandmother carved deep into the tree will protect you from the beast.

The sigils are faded, but the beast won’t get close.

“Omega.”

The wolf snarls at you. It waits and waits as you remain behind the tree. You hold your breath as it steps toward the tree. 

It whines, and you swear its features are twisted in pain for a second before the wolf steps back again. 

“No.”

“You’re mine,” it says. Or at least you believe the wolf speaks to you as it moves back. The wolf sits down, waiting patiently for you to come closer. “Come here.”

You violently shake your head. “Go away, beast,” you reply. You’re still out of breath from all the running and try to find a way to escape the wolf without running again. If there is a way.

“You’re scared,” a deep guttural noise leaves the beast’s throat. You still have no idea how you can understand its words. “Good.”

Your eyes widen as the beast stares back at you. Up close it looks even taller than before, and you know you won't stand a chance.

“Come here,” it insists.

When you don’t move a muscle, the beast stomps its forepaws on the ground. The ground shakes violently. You scream in terror as the tree protecting you from the beast splits into two halves.

All you can do is jump out of the way to avoid being hit by the tree’s branches. You land on your back, crying out in pain as the beast purrs in your direction. “I will tame you, feisty omega.”

You’re shaking in fear. Whatever the beast is after, it’s not its next snack. That wolf wants something else, so you fear.

“Go away.”

You stare at the beast, watching it tilt its head. It listens to your ragged breathing and silent whimpers. Whatever the beast in front of you is, it knows you already lost this fight.

“Go away…just go away,” you chant. “Please let this be a nightmare.”

The wolf watches you for a heartbeat, and another before howling again. This time, the beast straightens its back. It keeps its eyes on you.

It rolls his shoulders back, whining low as you hear bones crack, and muscles tear. You can’t look away, you can't run as the wolf turns into a human-like beast. 

The beast stands on its hind feet and clenches its fists. Even though it looks more human now, it’s still a beast ready to devour you.

“No.”

You stand up and go for a sprint. Panic rises in your chest as you hear the beast follow you close behind. You look over your shoulder, screaming in terror as the wolf chases you again.

Its speed is inhuman. You can’t compare. While you aimlessly run through the woods, praying you’ll find one of the trees your grandmother marked, the beast is right behind you.

“Stop now," it calls for you. “I’ll be kind to you. I won’t hurt you.” 

You keep running, but the beast won’t have it. It stomps his left hind foot again, shaking the ground. You fall to your knees and crawl away.

“These woods belong to me and my kind. Our ancients walked these grounds ages before your kind was born. Soon you will be one of us, my omega and mate.”

“Leave me alone. Please just go away,” you sniffle as you scramble to your feet. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

"I smelled you from a mile away."

He stalks toward you, chuckling darkly. “I like the cloak, take it off and put it aside. We don’t want it to get dirty when you are on your hands and knees for me. Be good, and I won't hurt you.”

You’re frozen to the spot. It feels like your body obeys the beast’s orders. “Do it now, omega.” You unclasp your cloak with stiff fingers. “Good girl. Now put it aside and come here.”

It’s a struggle not to scream as the beast pounces on you. You end up underneath the enormous beast, trembling as it's nose buries into your neck. It inhales your scent, snarling and purring as its claw-like hands rip your clothes to shreds.

“You’re mine.”

You sniffle silently as the beast manipulates your body. It runs his furry hands all over your body, as you try to let your mind wander. One of its claws pushes your upper body down and holds you to the muddy ground.

You struggle to not lose your mind. The last thing you want is to feel the beast spread your legs or his face buried in your cunt. Its long tongue teases your folds, making you whimper at the odd sensation. This monster forces you into submission with every swirl of its tongue.

“No,” you whine and scream, hoping someone stops the beast. It’s no use. The wolf slips its long tongue into your cunt, slowly fucking you with the skilled muscle. “Oh god, no. This can’t be…no.”

Its hot breath fans over your exposed ass while his tongue slides in and out of you. You have never felt so helpless before. A beast pushes its tongue inside of you, and all you can do is drool and moan.

You writhe on its tongue, hips rolling on their own as you chase a high you didn’t ask for. The beast growls against you, greedily drinking your juices when you gush over its snout.

“Good omega,” the beast purrs as you feel like in limbo. A boneless body, getting lifted by the beast. You feel it shift behind you. With its enormous, dense body, it covers your trembling form. Its fur tickles your skin as the wolf wiggles its hips. “Have all of me now.”

Your eyes snap open the moment you feel something bigger prob at your entrance. You took a big cock before, even a knot. But the thing slowly pressing into you is far from normal. “No…too much…stop.”

“You can take it, omega,” it purrs in your ear. “Take me. All of me.”

The fight is over. You must surrender. 

The beast slowly inches its way inside your body. You cry as the wide stretch is painful. It's too much of the beast, and it still pushes further in. “Almost.”

Tears spill from your eyes as the beast snaps its hips into your ass. You are entirely at the beast’s mercy. It covers your body and presses you into the ground. Its huge cock is nestled inside your body, and all you can do is let it have whatever it wants from you.

“So good.”

The beast starts to move, and it feels like it tries to be careful. It doesn’t make sense. The wolf was chasing you, and now it forced its cock inside of your body. “Relax, ‘mega,” you hear his voice turn softer. “You are doing so well for me, Y/N.”

You gasp. How can the beast rutting into you know your name? 

“How…?” you choke out a moan as the beast angles his hips, now hitting that spot making you see stars. Your vision becomes blurry as the beast on top of you starts to slam into you in abandon.

“You’re mine.”

Your body surrenders first. Your walls tighten around his thick cock, and you feel slick run down your thighs. It’s over. The beast got what it wanted and will kill you after it’s done with you. You’re sure of it.

“Mine.”

A scream tears from your throat when the beast’s teeth sink into your neck. It breaks your mating gland, growling against you as you pass out.

The last thing you feel is the blood running down your neck and its cum filling your abused cunt. “Mine…”

You wake. It’s odd, but you wake. 

After what happened last night you didn’t expect to breathe another day. But here you are sleeping on a soft mattress.

“You’re awake, good.”

Your eyes widen in shock. You recognize the voice from last night, but it's not the wolf standing in front of you. It’s one of your regulars from your library.

He often comes to town to borrow books. His name is James or Bucky. 

“What?”

“You must be very confused,” he bares his pearl-white teeth while speaking to show off dominance. “You will adapt soon, doll. I had to mark you before anyone else got the chance. You were ripe for harvest and I’m alpha prime, the one who can choose his mate first.”

“I-I don’t understand,” you whisper as you touch your neck. There is a scar in form of human teeth, but nothing else. “What happened…it must’ve been a dream.”

“Not a dream.”

Bucky morphs his face. 

“No! No!” you scream as the beast looks back at you. “This can’t be…why?”

“Because you are mine and this is your new life. You never have to go back to town ever again. Soon my pups will grow in your belly. We are going to be a big happy family.”

Your blood runs cold as you press your hand to your belly. “No…no…”

“If we didn’t make it this time,” he grins wolfishly, “I love trying…”

I won’t do tags for this story because it’s a dark story. I don’t want anyone to read a story which isn’t their cup of tea.

[onsunnyside]

💤. 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Stalker!Ari Levinson x reader (College AU)

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | DARK THEMES AND ELEMENTS, SMUT - minors DNI, NON-CON, DARK!Ari Levinson, stalking, implied drugging. College IT!Ari, camboy!Ari, outcast!Ari, size difference: 6’8!Ari. non-consensual filming & posting, perving, somnophilia, dirty talk, daddy kink, dry humping, size kink, masturbation (f & m), slight cumplay. 

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Beware the quiet ones.

𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝗪/𝗖 | 1.3K

𝗔/𝗡 | this is my entry for @boxofbonesfic Friday the 13th Challenge, and I picked stalker. Here’s the Pinterest board. this is my first time participating in a challenge, so i'm a little nervous, but here we go !! this is a dark fic, the warnings have been given—if you don’t like it, don’t read. all mistakes are my own. [all asks & drabbles]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“I’ll call you when it’s fixed or if anything c-comes up…” 

You nod, quickly gathering your things. His throat tightens, fingers itching for yours. “I-I could walk you home, I don’t have any more appointments today.” 

“It’s fine. I live on campus.” 

“But it’s getting dark—”

“I’m okay.” You repeat firmly, softening the blow with a smile, “but thank you, Ari, I appreciate it.” 

You don’t give him another chance to protest and leave. When you step out, the smell of rain engulfs you, cool air washing away any traces of him, but your goosebumps never leave. 

Whatever. At least it’s done. 

You flip up your hood and start the short trek home, forcing yourself not to glance back—even though you just know he’s watching from the window. 

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and since your coursework list was neverending, you had no choice but to book an appointment with the IT department. One click, one stupid click on a link was all it took for your laptop to go haywire and then completely unresponsive. 

You couldn’t afford to miss another deadline, even if that meant sitting face-to-face with the campus outcast. 

Nothing was wrong with being alone or preferring solitude, but Ari had a strange energy around him. It was suffocating and unsettling, either too quiet, too friendly, or too close. 

There weren’t many places for him to hide with his towering height and broad stature, yet he blended in almost too naturally, adapting to the surrounding space as if he belonged there—when that was far from the truth. He didn’t belong anywhere, regardless of how hard he tried to pretend so.

The only tell was the feeling of being watched. 

His blue eyes set in steely glare, dissecting you like one of those dead specimens on the aluminum tray.  

You had a lab with him one year, and you remember the shivers crawling up your spine when he smiled and made his way over. You thank the universe every day that Natasha slid into the free chair and asked very loudly if you’d be her partner.  

“He’s a fucking weirdo.” Natasha grumbled in disgust, glaring at his retreating back, “I don’t have to know him to know he’s into freaky shit.”

Rumours were always just gossip, ill judgment spreading around like wildfire but at this point, you’d believe anything about him, anything to fill that empty void of unease.

Was there any proof that he was into fucked up shit? Or that he was a dark web lurker or a disgusting pervert? No, but your gut told you to flee whenever he was around and that was enough.

Ari was a proud introvert, an odd balance between shy and awkwardly friendly. A small part of you pities him—the different, nerdy reject shrouded in alleged disturbed mystery. You’d never admit it but he was devilishly handsome and in an alternative dimension, he’d be exactly your type. 

In any other classes you shared, you purposefully arrived late so he couldn’t sit next to you and so far,  it’s kept him at bay. You felt weird around him but so did everyone else. 

If there were something truly wrong with him, all of those lingering suspicions would’ve exposed him by now, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.

It was easy to blame everything on stress, the pressure of school and your impending future weighing heavy on your shoulders. Like most lonely nights, you dive into the virtual passions of the Internet. 

With earbuds in, you scroll through the profiles, your gaze lingering on the lewd photos and biographies. One catches your attention, a little red ‘Top Hot 20’ pinned by the username and a teasing picture of flexed abs and a dark happy trail. You read over his most recent videos: 

Jerking off and cumming in library (almost caught) – public masturbation

Eating sleeping girlfriend’s wet pussy – puffy clit, spitting, pussy slapping

You tap on the last one:

Dry humping girlfriend while she sleeps – dirty talk, cum shot

Clean runners softly pad on the carpet floor, the blanket is pulled back and exposes the girl’s backside. The dim flash barely illuminates her body, just an outline of her figure bathed in the moonlight. His big hand caresses her thighs, wasting no time in rubbing over her core. 

Almost in a trance, you replicate his motions, tracing over your clothed slit as a quiet breath flutters from your lips, drowned out by his heavy groan.

“Look at you, all ready for daddy…” He rasps, his words slurred, “You knew what I needed tonight, huh?” He touches her petals, spreading the panty-clad folds, “Such a cute little pussy, Want me to fuck you?”  

She sleepily rocks against his hand and he laughs, silencing her murmurs with a hand on her back. He manhandles her as he pleases, tossing pillows and blankets to the floor before straddling the back of her thighs.

You exhale and dip your fingers beneath the band of your underwear, seeking that needy bundle. Tingles fill your tummy while you circle your hole, gathering your juices up to your clit. 

His fist squeezes his base and slides up to the angry red tip, smearing the pearly dribbles with his thumb. He’s thick and long, veins protruding from the smooth girth before disappearing under his bushy pubic hair. He grinds against her ass, his pre cum leaking all over her panties.

“You’re so fucking wet, I can smell you.” 

With heavy groans, he rocks against her and the camera shakes. Primal thrusts slide his solid cock between her cheeks, staining the poor cotton. His big hand lands a series of harsh spanks, they’re so hard you feel the burning sensation too. 

You fuck yourself with your fingers in time with his grinds and whine, imagining his fat length rubbing against you just like that. 

“One of these days I’m gonna rub my sack all over your cunt. Get you all messy.” A forceful thrust sends the girl sliding a few inches up the bed. “Awh, you dropped your stuffie, little dummy.” He reaches out of the frame and returns with a stuffed animal. 

It takes you less than a second to recognize the black and white spots. To your horror, he places the stuffie on a pillow and pets the head right between the small horns. 

“There we go, gotta make sure Milky is watching. You gonna be quiet for me now, baby?” He laughs, “oh, why am I even asking? It’s not like you can wake up anyway.” 

Your heart plummets to the ground, shattering every layer of the Earth until falling into the endless oblivion of space.

“Can’t wait to fuck your ass, maybe I’ll do it while you’re sleeping, just like how I ate your cute cunt.” He spits, roughly groping her—your flesh, “bet you woke up all sore. Was wondering why you were so sensitive, like someone tortured your pussy.” He curses lowly and his hips stutter,  “sorry for bein’ so mean. You make me into a fucking animal.” 

All air is yanked from your body when his cum spurts out, covering your panties and lower back. He groans shamelessly, jerking off with his own seed to expel every last drop before pulling down the back of your stained panties. He rubs it into your skin like a sick claim of ownership. 

“I love you so much, baby. You have no fuckin’ clue.”

Despite the lightheadedness, you scroll to the comments. Every blink momentarily focuses your blurry vision on the bright screen: 

Cute stuffed animal lol

should’ve taken her panties off. I wanted to see that pretty pussy

damn, she’s knocked out cold. How does she sound when she’s awake?

MrSinister: absolutely divine. She’ll be awake in my next video, I promise.

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: my oh my 🫡 i feel very dirty, like i need to physically scrub my brain from this whore behaviour. happy Saturday besties.

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! be sure to check out the other fics for bones' challenge !!

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

[jobean12-blog]

The Shadow of Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Fairytale/Vampire AU, soft!dark)

Word Count: 6,017

Summary: James has spent many of his long years in despair...until he finds you. 

Author’s Note: This is for @boxofbonesfic “Once Upon a Time” celebration and 10K milestone! Congratulations lovely and thank you for hosting! 💕This is also for Lilo and Aqua’s “Myths and Legends” writing challenge @sparkledfirecracker @tumblin-theworldaway thank you both for hosting!💕 The fairytale that inspired this is Beauty and the Beast. I also have references to the book Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. I used a lot of Vampire myth and legend, including some form of magic-charming- to keep the reader under control. James and his companions are definitely from a different era of time than the reader and they come off kind of fancy for that reason. 

Warnings: mentions of b-loo-d, mind c-ontrol and magic charming, k-id-napping, built up tension, moments of f-ea-r, s-ucking b-loo-d, b-iting, but there is some softness laced in between all of it (18+ONLY)-if I miss any please let me know :)

The banner above is mine. It’s terrible because I’m terrible at banners. The edit on the left was made by my dear friend Nix, which is the opposite of terrible, it’s amazing 💕This photo below is all Seb, I take no credit for his gorgeousness. 

The last rays of a dying sun filter through the ornate stained-glass windows of the estate and cast shimmers of fading color upon the dusty stone floor. The only other light is from a pair of blue eyes, so startling, they rival the beauty of the ancient artwork adorning the walls.

“You are sulking again,” a voice calls from the back of the room.

It receives no answer and there is no sound of footsteps as the other approaches, materializing next to the set of blue eyes.

“Are you going to spend all of eternity in this constant state of shadow?” the new voice asks.

James turns to his companion, the years of their friendship spread out over centuries, and asks, “isn’t that the very nature of our existence?”

Steven only stares ahead in answer before placing a placating hand on James’ shoulder. “You have the power to take what you want. You must make a choice. Stop lingering in this…purgatory.”

James only nods before his legs begin to vaporize and tendrils of dark mist crawl up his long body. His eyes are the last thing Steven sees, the blue piercing the black cloud before James is gone.

Steven drops his head then turns on his heel, walking briskly from the large room.

The bar is busier than usual tonight, full of tourists regaling in their visit and drunk locals cheering them on. You run from table to table, dodging sloshing pints and groping hands. When you finally find yourself back behind the bar you let out a long exhale and lean on the counter, smiling when your friend the bartender dashes past you for more glasses.

“Really hopping tonight,” Matt yells with a smile.

You laugh with an exaggerated wipe of your brow then grab your glass of cool water for a nice long drink. You take no notice of the pair of stunning blue eyes that follow your every move, their owner cloaked in shadow and hidden from the sight of most.

In the next hours that pass many of the patrons become too drunk to carry on a conversation and the travelers move on, so the bar is now quiet and you have time for your favorite activity. You reach under the bar top and retrieve your book, a smile gracing your features as you sit and open to your bookmark.

“Reading again?” Matt asks as he grabs himself a drink of water.

“Always,” you answer without looking up.

He’s silent for several moments until he leans down to whisper along your ear, “that man over there…he hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night. Do you know him?”

You keep your head down as if you are still reading but slowly lift your eyes and search the room. At first you see nothing and your brow furrows in confusion.

“Matt, I don’t see…” you start to whisper, stopping short when your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the man he speaks of.

It’s as if the world around you fades away and you’re consumed by the presence of this stranger. Your breathing slows and at first all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears, until his voices penetrates the veil, smooth like silk even as you stare at lips unmoving. It frightens you but you can’t seem to break away and it feels as though you’re being pulled toward him by an invisible string.

“Hey!” you suddenly hear your body shaking under the force of Matt’s hands.

You gasp loudly and grab hold of Matt’s arm, turning to him with wide and panicked eyes.

“You ok?” Matt asks, much more softly now, his features etched with concern.

“I…,” you start and swing your head back in the direction of the stranger but he seems to have disappeared into thin air. “I think so.”

Matt follows your line of sight and whispers, his shock evident, “he’s gone.”

You swallow hard and cling to Matt with trembling hands. “I swear it was like I was under a spell,” you say quietly.

“It looked like you were in a trance,” Matt explains before handing you more water.

“Have you seen him before?” Matt asks.

You don’t answer right away, a chill running down your spine as your mind races.

“I don’t know…it all felt eerily familiar but I never even got a look at him.”

“Did you frighten her again?” Steven grins when James pushes through the large double doors of the estate with a loud bang.

James shoots him a cold glare and Steven’s grin fades.

“She is always with that young man…Matt” James states, his distaste obvious in the way he says the name. “Who is he? Why does she stay with him?”

Steven waits before answering, clearly formulating a careful response.

“I have seen him,” Steven answers. “You have mentioned they work together…perhaps they are just friends.”

“She isn’t in love with him,” James states after a prolonged silence. “But he is in love with her.”

Steven takes a step toward James, resting both of his hands on James’ broad shoulders.

“Do not make any thoughtless actions James,” Steven warns. “You don’t want to lose her before you even have her.”

“You think she would be upset if I…disposed of him?”

James’ question makes Steven raise his brows with a wry smile.

“Fine…I won’t kill him,” James sighs. “But I will not allow him to stand in the way of what’s mine.”

The next few nights of work are uneventful and slow and by the time the weekend rolls around you’ve almost finished your book.

You feel his presence before you see him, a warm rush of awareness overwhelming your senses. You lift your gaze from the page and meet his incredible blue eyes. He’s handsome in a way that’s arresting and your heart starts to beat faster.

“Hello doll,” the man greets.

You stare at him, your mouth curving into a cautious smile.

He smiles back, his plush red lips spreading wide over white teeth.

“Have we met before?” you muse as you openly study him.

“I don’t believe so,” he answers. “I would never forget such a beautiful creature.”

Your eyes linger on his handsome features, his eyes standing out above all else, before you lower your lashes at his compliment.

“Can I get you a drink?” you ask, as you close your book and hide it back under the bar.

“Please,” he says. “Red wine.”

You nod and go about pouring him some, setting the glass down carefully and noting how his long and thick fingers curl seductively around the stem.

“What book has you so captivated?” he asks as he swirls the liquid around the glass.  

“Frankenstein,” you answer. “Have you read it?”

“I have.”

You instantly brighten at his answer and hold out your hand to introduce yourself. He takes it, filled with a sudden delirious hope as he dips his head to brush his cool lips across your knuckles.

Goosebumps erupt across your skin at the feel of his lips but thankfully you recover by the time he lifts his eyes back to yours.

“A pleasure doll. I’m James. James Barnes.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the recognition of his name.

“James,” you repeat in a soft murmur and he tenses at how keenly he wants to hear his name on your perfect lips again and again.

“So I do know you…sort of.”

You’d heard stories of the famous family but you always assumed they were nothing more than that…stories.

“You may have heard my name before, yes,” he acknowledges, “but I assure you that whatever you’ve heard isn’t quite the truth.

“Guess I’ll just have to find out for myself,” you reply.

James steels himself, hiding his pleasure at your words with a swift change of topic.

“How do you like the book so far?” he asks.

“I love it! It’s hauntingly beautiful and sad. I’m almost finished.”

With an agreeable nod he launches into a perfectly articulated and clever review of the book, much to your delight and you find yourself completely engrossed with his every word.

“You must come and see my library,” James tells you. “I have an extensive collection.”

You sigh at the thought, resting your elbows on the bar and leaning in close to him.

“I’d love that more than anything. I’ve always dreamed of having my very own library.”

His eyes flash, silver against his pale skin, and he brushes his fingers down your arm.

“You are most welcome any time doll. I think you would find my home has many things you would enjoy.”

Matt loudly calls your name, his tone sharp, and it startles you.

“Need some help down here,” he repeats, eyeing you suspiciously.

You pull yourself away from James, feeling slightly lightheaded but managing a smile.

“I apologize but I need to go help…”

“Of course doll,” James says smoothly, gritting his teeth with anger at the interruption.

“Perhaps I may request your presence at the ball I’m hosting next week. I can show you my library.”

You can’t hide your surprise at his invitation, your eyes filled with nervous anticipation.

“If you’d rather have a more private introduction I will understand,” he quickly adds.

“No, no,” you assure him once you recover. “But a ball…isn’t that old fashioned?”

You make sure to smile after you tell him this.

“Indeed it is!” he agrees with a smile. “You’ll find I can be very old fashioned…perhaps I should have used the term party.”

“There is much to do!” James bellows as Steven follows behind. “Everything needs to be cleaned and prepared. Nothing can be left undone!”

Steven rushes off to alert the others and begin the preparations while James stalks off to the library to make sure his most befitting gift is in order.

“Why wasn’t I invited?” Matt asks as he follows you around your small bedroom. “You need someone to come with you to keep you safe! We hardly know this guy.”

You turn to him with a smirk.

“Well, anyone who enjoys books as much as I do can’t be all bad!” you exclaim as you look him over. “Now go find something to wear.”

When you arrive at James’ estate you tilt your head back to follow the grand height of the edifice. It looms darkly against the star filled sky, backlit by the shine of the moon.

“Wow, it’s bigger than I imagined,” you whisper to Matt.

“This place is insane! It looks like some creepy house from one of your books,” he jokes.

You elbow him before smoothing your hands down your dress and using the knocker to alert your presence.

The door swiftly opens to reveal a tall blonde with a sweet smile.

“Welcome,” he states, keeping his eyes on you. “James is expecting you.”

He finally moves his eyes to Matt and his lips turn down into a slight frown.

“You’ve brought a guest,” Steven states dryly.

You fidget with your hands and drop your head.

“I didn’t wan to come alone…” you start to say quietly.

“Do not fret darling,” Steven says kindly. “You were simply being smart. Please, come in.”

He reaches for your hand and you take his, stepping inside with Matt right behind you.

As Steven ushers you down the long hallway you take the opportunity to look around, noting the elaborately decorated walls, with bold colors but delicate carvings and when you pass a set of large floor to ceiling windows you notice a splash of vibrant color outside.

“Oh!” you exclaim, stopping to look. “You have a garden?”

Steven steps closer to you, admiring the blooms.

“We do,” he says proudly. “It is James’ second most prized possession…his library being the first.”

A bright smile graces your features at the mention of the library.

“And all these flowers bloom at night?” you ask, your forehead furrowed now in thought. “How strange.”

Steven clears his throat. “Why yes! Excellent observation my sweet. James prefers the beauty and fragrance of things…nocturnal.”

“Now come, we don’t want to be late.”

With that, Steven urges you down the hallway toward large wooden double doors. He pushes them open with ease and sweeps out his arm with a bow.

You give him an elegant nod of your head and enter. The domed ceiling is covered with magnificent frescoes and the candlelit wall sconces cast various hunting battles, landscape scenes, and jousts in an eerie glow.

“Wow,” you whisper, still looking up when you feel that familiar shiver creep down your spine.

That’s when you turn and see him. He approaches slowly, his tall and powerful body moving smoothly across the floor. He’s dressed formally and when he reaches you he bows with a flourish.

You’re momentarily stunned, the opulence of it all something you are not used to.

James holds out an inviting hand just as you hear the first note from an organ hidden above you, the melodic sound reverberating in the open space.

You reach for him, placing your fingers in his palm and smiling softly.

“If I see but one smile on your lips when we meet, occasioned by this or any other exertion of mine, I shall need no other happiness,” he murmurs, quoting a line from Frankenstein.

“Oh that’s one of my favorites from the story!” you gush.

In a whirl you are quickly in his arms, one of his hands holding yours and the other placed at your lower back.

“I’m so delighted you came,” he says tenderly as his eyes wander over your face then sweep down your body. “You are a vision. The stars will be jealous of you tonight.”

If the use of one of your favorite lines didn’t already work his most recent words make you swoon and you clutch his hand more tightly, nibbling your bottom lip.

“James…” you begin but he spins you away before you can say more and when you’re back in his arms his face is only inches from yours and you’re at a loss for any other words.

He keeps you close and you can feel every inch of his hard body pressed to yours.

The sound of voices draws your attention away and you suddenly remember Matt.

“Oh!” you exclaim, “what about Matt?”

James smiles and although the gesture is warm something dark flickers in his eyes.

“Your friend seems to be doing just fine doll,” James tells you as he spins you both around so you can see.

Matt is currently dancing with a beautiful red head, her pale face lit up in a smile as they twirl around the room.

“He certainly looks fine,” you finally say with a giggle.

“I assure you my friends are very engaging. They were overjoyed to know I was having company. Natasha especially. She loves to dance and it’s been quite some time since I’ve entertained.”

“Your home is beautiful,” you say. “Do you live here alone?”

“No. Not alone,” he says. “Steven is my companion…we have been through much together and our friendship runs deep.”

“I met him when we got here and he showed me a glimpse of your impressive garden.”  

James smiles, doing nothing to hide the haughty lift of his chin, and says, “ah yes! You’ve seen my flowers. I do enjoy tending to my nightly blooms.”

“I noticed many of them were open even in the nighttime,” you state pleasantly, not wanting to come off as rude.

“Yes all flowers of the darkness. The moonflowers are my personal favorite.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those before,” you say.

“Well I’ll be sure to give you the grand tour of the garden after you see the library,” he beams.

As you continue to dance and talk you lose track of time, not even noticing that Matt has long since disappeared and you and James are the only two left in the large room.

“You’re a wonderful dancer James.”

“I’ve had many years of practice,” he explains. “And it helps having such an exquisite partner.”

You glow under his praise and find yourself craving more from him. You press yourself closer and release his hand, languidly sliding it along his shoulder to rest just below the base of his neck.

Joyously he returns your embrace, holding you affectionately as he continues to float you around the room. As the music slows so do his steps and as if sensing the change, you cling to him, your fingers sliding into the hair at the back of his neck.

His passion mixes with the innate thirst he has kept hidden and the scent of your skin, the feel of your body and the taste of you is overwhelming. He yields, and with a groan, dips his head to kiss your throat, his fangs emerging quickly and purposefully.

His kiss is gentle, not that of a predator but of a lover, and you gasp at first but don’t pull away. An ecstasy like you’ve never known takes over and any thought of pain ebbs away with every pulse of your blood.

“James!” comes a commanding voice that goes unheard by you. “Release her!”

You’re suddenly thrust from James’ arms, weak and dizzy. A soothing voice enters your head and your eyelids grow heavy, the room around you slowly fading into blackness.

James paces at the foot of his large bed, the four wooden posts holding up the deep velvet draping’s that partially shield you from his eyes.

“The thirst is commanding,” Steven states placidly. “But you must be more careful!”

James turns to his lifelong friend and stares, his lips parting as his fangs grow and sharpen.

“Yes, it does,” James answers, his voice low and menacing. “I need to feed.”

Steven nods with a quick glance at your prone form on the bed. “She will be safe here and she will sleep through tomorrow’s sun. Come. Let us hunt.”

The two men take long strides toward the door and with one last longing glance behind him, your soft features illuminated by a sliver of the moon’s pale light that escapes through the tapestries, James’ body shifts into the shape of a sleek black wolf and he races away.

At the smell of food you gently shift along the silken sheets, stretching out like a cat before you blink your eyes open. Darkness surrounds you and the smell of something sweet but weathered permeates the scent of the well-cooked meal.

You sit up slowly, clutching the sheets to your chest and noting that you are no longer wearing your dress from last night, only a thin chemise.

Last night?

Your mind begins to race and your voice catches in your throat as your eyes focus on the room.

“Where am I?” you squeak out, plastering yourself to the leather headboard.

“You’re safe doll.”

At the sound of James’ soothing voice you visibly relax. Something about his presence makes you feel calmer. You don’t quite understand it but he puts your mind and body at ease.

“What happened?” you ask. “Where is Matt?”

“You indulged a bit too much after dancing,” he explains as he moves closer, now standing beside the bed. “You were unfit to get home so I let you sleep here. As for Matt, he is safe at home.”

Again, for reasons unknown to you, you trust his word.

“Is this your bed?” you ask as you fingers sweep over the plush fabric.

You look up at him with the unspoken question in your eyes.

“Yes,” he whispers. “But I slept elsewhere. I promise you.”

More tension leaves your shoulders and you look past him to the steaming food on the small table.

“Hungry?” he asks with a mischievous grin.

“Starving!” you exclaim as you start to get up.

When you stand your legs are wobbly and you teeter at the edge of the bed.

James quickly wraps you in his embrace and holds you against his chest.

“Slow,” he instructs. “You have slept long and haven’t eaten. Sit. I will bring it to you.”

He gently sits you back down and goes to get the tray of food, setting it down beside you on the bed. He pulls up a chair and sits beside you, stabbing a piece of the food with the fork and bringing it to your lips.

Your eyes stay locked on his as your mouth opens and you take a bite. The low moan that leaves the back of your throat is unexpected but you are hungrier than you thought and the food is delicious.

His eyes flash and he grips the fork tighter, his already white skin pulled tight against his knuckles.

“Good, isn’t it?” he asks, plucking another bite from the plate.

“Yes,” you whisper, eagerly taking the second piece.

“Eat all you want doll. You’ll need your energy for all I have to show you today.”

He entertains you with stories of how he’s collected his books and how he came to love gardening. You brighten at his words and dutifully eat all the food on the plate.

When you’ve had your fill he stands and begins to collect the tray. You sit back with a contented sigh, fiddling with your necklace. Your fingers graze something on your neck and a rush of emotion floods through you.

“James,” you say, your voice wavering.

He’s instantly at your side, his face etched with worry.

“I…I have…” you stammer, fighting the growing warning in your head.

James delicately rests his palm over your cheek, brushing his thumb across your lips.

“Everything is fine doll. I have everything you need here. Just say the words and it will be yours.”

Your eyes refocus and settle on his as a sense of peacefulness washes over you once again.

“Thank you.”

He smiles, warm and inviting, and your eyes drop to his lips. You’re drawn to him in every way, his charm ever present in the forefront of your mind and you grab his wrist, leaning in closer.

A loud knock on the door startles you from your trance and you pull away, quickly covering yourself with the blanket.

James’ eyes narrow and he let’s out a low rumble.

“Come in,” he says dangerously.

Steven enters and looks between the two of you, his eyes widening slightly at the look on James’ face.

“Sorry to disturb you,” he regrets. “But you are needed.”

He keeps his eyes on James and waits.

“I won’t be long,” James assures you, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll find everything you need in the chest at the foot of the bed. Feel free to wander the house.”

He stands abruptly and moves toward Steven, brushing past him with the soft closing of the door.

“This better be worth my time,” James seethes.

Once the two men are far enough away from the bedroom Steven grabs James’ arm and swiftly turns him so they are face to face.

“Do you have her under your charm?” Steven asks, his teeth gritted.

James turns away, walking toward the windows to look out over the garden, the bright blooms like stars scattered across the darkness.  

“She will try to run,” he states coldly. “I will not have it.”

“James,” Steven sighs as he comes to stand beside his friend. “You do not give yourself enough credit. How do you know she will not grow to love you?”

James is silent for a long time, his eyes still staring out at the darkness.

When he finally speaks his voice is smaller, carrying none of it’s usual authority and fierceness.

“One could no sooner love a monster.”

“Give her time,” Steven answers quietly.

James makes no further comment and simply asks, “what could be so important that you would pull me from my love?”

“The young man…Matt, came to the estate. He is demanding to know why she is still here in your care and when she is coming home.”

James is quiet for a long time after Steven’s explanation and finally he squares his shoulders and sets his jaw firmly in line.

“Deal with it and make sure I am not disturbed again unless absolutely necessary.”

Before Steven can give any sign of acknowledgement James whisps away into a bat and speeds down the hall toward the library.

You dress in the clothes that he left you, running your fingertips over the soft fabric of the simple dress and loving how it fits you perfectly. The floor beneath your feet is chilly and you silently wish for something warm to cover them. Just as you open the door of the bedroom you notice a pair of slippers resting at the side and you wonder if the house has heard your silent request and answered.

Now warm and comfortable you make your way down the long hallway, passing the room from last night where you danced with James. You continue further down, seeing many smaller adjacent rooms that hold cozy sitting areas and desks.

When you reach the end of the hall, moonlight gathers on the stone floor from one of the large windows, and a large oaken door sits slightly ajar.

You take a deep breath and gently push it open the rest of the way.

A large fire burns comfortably in the hearth, its ruddy glow infusing the room with heat and light. The walls are lined from floor to ceiling with richly carved wooden bookshelves, every available space filled with books.

The scent of well-oiled leather and old parchment invades your senses and you throw your hands up and twirl with barely subdued awe.

“I was hoping I would be back in time to see your reaction,” James purrs from the doorway.

You spin around to find him leaning against the tall wooden doorframe, his perfect lips carved into a soft smile.

“Oh James!” you exclaim. “It’s just….”

You squeal in happiness, running to one of the shelves and plucking a book off, your fingers moving reverently across the worn binding before you carefully open it and lift it to your nose.

Your inhalation is loud and full and when you lift your eyes to James his own are crinkled with joy.

“Is it everything you hoped for?” he inquires as he moves toward you.

“It’s even better,” you whisper, clutching the book to your chest.

When he reaches you he presses his long fingers under your chin, caressing your jaw with his thumb.

“I cannot express the happiness this brings me. You may read anything you like. They are yours.”  

Your mouth falls open at his offer and your eyes widen, brightening with tears.

“But…why? You just met me. Isn’t there someone else…?”

“There is no one else,” he says sharply, not meaning to speak so and he quickly smiles and tucks you under his arm.

“There is no one else who would enjoy them as much as you,” he says, this time his voice soft and pleasant.

“What about you?”

Your question catches him off guard and he studies you silently before gathering you in his arms and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Yes. I will enjoy them too of course.”

He’s reluctant to let you go but he can feel your body brimming with excitement.

“Go, enjoy! I will come find you shortly for dinner.”

He turns to leave but you grab his hand and give it a small tug, smiling under your lashes when he gives you a curious look. You press your palm to one of his cheeks and softly kiss the other, your lips lingering for a moment before you pull away.

“Thank you,” you whisper and with a wide smile you dash off to the shelves.

James wanders back down the hall, his fingers pressed to the same spot your lips had touched and for the first time he weighs the reality of Steven’s words.

Could you really love him? Would you stay because you wanted to?

When Steven comes to collect you for dinner you are curled up in one of the scarlet velvet cushioned chairs, a large book in your lap and a wistful expression on your face.

“My dear,” Steven says softly. “Dinner is ready and you must be hungry.”

You look up with a start but smile when you see him.

“Yes, I am!” you say with a laugh. “What time is it?”

“It is well past dinner time but your schedule is off after your night of partying.”

At that last word Steven gives you a playful grin and you match it but as you stand and go to him it begins to fall.

“I don’t even remember having a drink! All I remember is dancing with James and then I woke up in his bed.”

Your steps slow and you look at Steven, your eyes turning round with fear.

“Don’t worry,” he says carefully, moving forward tentatively to take your hand. “Everything is fine and you are safe.”

His words are like a warm caress and you feel the tension seep from your body.

“What have you been reading?” he asks as he urges you out the door of the library.

With your fearful thoughts a distant memory you divulge Steven in every little detail of the book you’ve read so far…a first edition copy of ‘Wuthering Heights.’

“I still can’t believe I have it in my hands,” you say with amazement as you look down at the book. “Where did he get this?”

“You can ask him yourself,” Steven smiles as he holds the door of the dining room open.

James greets you by taking your free hand and leading you toward the chair next to his, pulling it out so you may sit.

Steven clears his throat to get James’ attention, a silent exchange passing between them. James nods and proceeds to sit.

“So, what do you think so far?” James asks as his eyes drop to the book.

“I love it but how did you get a first edition copy?”

Your excitedness eases some of the worry that Steven’s earlier warning provoked and he relaxes, eagerly listening to your chatter about the book.

“Won’t you have something to eat?” you ask when you scrape your plate clean with your last bite.

James glances down at his still full plate and smiles.

“Well, I was so enraptured with you, I forgot to eat,” he says with a wink. “But come, we will go to the garden before we have some dessert.”

He stands and reaches for your hand, taking it and looping your arm with his. You press into his side and walk with him down the long hallway toward the garden.

The darkness of the night isn’t oppressive, the leaf-filtered moonlight turning the garden into a moving tapestry of shadows and wisps, and all around are the soft sounds of nighttime life.

James breathes in deeply, the subtle scent of your warm blood taking precedent above all the other fragrances from the flowers. A warm breeze travels among the leaves and blooms yet your body trembles.

“Are you cold?” James asks.

“It isn’t cold out but for some reason I feel a chill.”

At your answer he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. You smile in thanks and pull it closer to your body, discreetly sniffing the collar.

His smell makes you sigh and you snuggle closer to the warm fabric.

“It must be a lot of work to care for all these flowers,” you muse as you meander down the stone pathways.

“It takes nurturing and patience,” he says quietly as his eyes wander across the flowers. “Time is something I have a lot of.”

He steps closer to the moonflower plant and gently picks a blossom, twirling it between his long fingers.

“This, doll, is a moonflower.”

He holds it just under your nose, the soft petals tickling your skin as you inhale.

“It smells almost citrusy,” you remark. “They are beautiful.”

He takes the flower and tucks it under the thin strap of your dress, his fingertips tracing the outline of your collarbone before ghosting along your throat.

“Did you know they are deadly if ingested?”

Your eyebrows raise and you shake your head, leaning into his touch. “The seeds are highly toxic but thankfully once you educate yourself they are both very safe and very easy to cultivate.”

“Do they stay open in the daytime?” you ask, your voice breathless.

“They do not. They are true nighttime blooms. Only in the darkness do they come alive.”

His fingers move higher and curl around the back of your neck. Your scent surrounds him, drowning out all his other sharpened senses.

“James,” your voice trembles.

“Do you want to know another of my favorite quotes from your beloved Frankenstein story?” he whispers, his breath cool against your skin.

His fangs begin to lengthen and hunger tugs at every fiber of his unnatural existence.

“What is it?” you ask, your body now completely pliant against his.

His nose brushes along the length of your neck and he gently nips at your earlobe, pressing his thumb under your chin to tilt your head back and expose more of your throat.

“If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear,” he murmurs, pressing his lips just below your ear.

You tremble but this time it’s not from the cold and when your eyes meet his commanding gaze you smile softly and press closer to him.

“But I am not afraid,” you whisper.

He takes your face in his hands and smooths the pad of his thumb across your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own, their color red with the anticipation of the taste of you. His fingers slide down and graze your pulse point, the rhythmic throbbing sending a rush of heat through his body.

The clouds move slowly across the sky, exposing the full silver light of the moon and it floods the garden, bathing you both in an ethereal glow.

“I will no longer suffer this eternity alone. You will be mine forever.”

His lips press to yours, nipping and licking your warm flesh before he parts your tongue and swallows your gasps of pleasure. A fire erupts across your skin and your fingernails dig into his back, his jacket falling to the ground in a heap of dark fabric.

As his hands explore your bare skin he can barely contain his awe, the feeling of you is better than anything he could have imagined in his long life.

The flower that is secured in your dress floats to the floor as his fingers slip under the thin straps and slowly push them off your shoulders. His lips never leave yours when his hands travel lower, caressing every inch of you that he can.

“James, please,” you beg, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him.

He pulls away, your lips still chasing his, and looks into your eyes.

Slowly he loosens his hold over you and some of the light returns to your eyes like a spark ignited. You reach for him again; this time of your own accord and he growls in victory.

With languid movements he brings your lips to his once again, softly kissing them before he moves down your neck, lightly scraping your skin with his elongated fangs.

You gasp his name, a whispered plea, and he can no longer deny the thirst that burns inside him like a fever and without warning he embeds his fangs in your soft flesh.

For that one brief moment all desire leaves your body and is replaced with an innate terror at the realization of what’s happening. With a weak push on his chest you try to get away but it’s too late and before the cry of anguish can leave your parted lips you sink into an inky blackness, the feeling of ecstasy creeping over you like a veil, shrouding all else in shadow.

@book-dragon-13 @dreamlessinparis @lookiamtrying @loki-laufeyson-1054 @goldylions @seitmai @randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose​ @flordeamatista​

[boxofbonesfic]

𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓕𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 13𝓽𝓱!

In honor of the day, I thought it might be fun to run a short little horror challenge. You do not have to message me, or ask to join, nor do you have to be following me, but it would be cool if you did! Simply spin the wheel (or pick from the list below) to pick your poison, and submit your fic by Sunday, 1/15, 11:59pm to be featured on the challenge masterlist. No late fics! The point of this is to get spooky for the 13th. So let’s get spooky!

RULES:

1. Due to my blog content, and the content of my friends and followers, this challenge is 18+ only. No minors. You will be blocked. 

2. Your story does NOT have to contain smut, but it must be spooky! This is a horror challenge, this tenet is non-negotiable. 

3. All tropes allowed—Dark, A/B/O, Mafia, etc! Just make sure your fic is tagged and warned appropriately. 

4. Your submission must be a new and original work—no submitting chapters from previous fics, or installments in ongoing series. If it IS an installment of something existing, it must be able to be read and made sense of as a stand-alone piece. 

5. There is a strict 1.3k word limit, and 3 submissions are allowed per user. (This means you can write a 3 chapter mini-series if you like, but each chapter must be no more than 1.3k words total!) All submissions must be entered by 1/15/23 at 11:59pm EST. 

6. I reserve the right not to reblog work I find offensive or harmful, or that does not fulfill the challenge briefing!

7. Please, no submissions from fandoms I am not in. Chris Evans characters, Sebastian Stan characters, MCU characters, as well as other marvel actors and their fandoms are all acceptable to submit. If you have questions, shoot me a message and I can clarify!

8. Have fun!! More than anything, I want people to enjoy themselves and have fun. If this challenge is not sparking joy, it’s okay to sit it out. There will be more!

Spin the wheel! 

or Pick your prompt!

-Serial Killer

-Stalker

-Demon

-Poltergeist

-Undead

-Witchcraft

-Cult

-Old Gods

-Eldritch Horror/Cosmic Horror

-From the Deep

-Abominable

-The Forest is Old and Angry

-Werewolf/Were-creature

Have fun! Please reblog so that others can see and join if they would like to ❤️🖤

[brandycranby]

so there's only an hour left of 2023... i wanted to write something about the year and how it passed.

it doesnt come back to me as much as i would like it to, i spent it working and watching lectures, reading discussion posts, and trying- trying so hard to write, only to lose myself to comforting daydreams that didn't challenge me, just buffered the world and let it slip away from me.

still, an inconclusive list of things, however small, that i did and i'm proud of:

make new friends on tumblr despite being someone prone to keeping to themselves

finished two more semesters of grad school

earned all the credits i need to graduate (cant say i graduated yet boooo)

started my seven sentences event and fulfilled some prompts; maybe i havent finished answering all of them yet but im very proud of the ones i have done

grew some potatoes!!

saw a therapist for the very first time and worked on myself

crocheted a very special froggie friend and started some wips i love

went on my first roadtrip with a friend and had as best a time as i could make it despite it being rainy 24/7 and being ill

learned more and more about archiving at work!! i know things now!!!

and i persevered, even though it was hard and i was empty and hollow inside. maybe it's a placebo effect, but i think i have words again. i have feelings deep in my bones, i have stories on my tongue, and i have not told them all yet. i can persist on here and i will persist; no matter what, i'm here to stay.

my heart is full!! my heart is heavy!! but my heart is yours!! i love you, my friends and friends-to-be!! a song for my mutuals who make my world a delight and full of color!! an ode to the anons who slip into my inbox and make me long to hold their hands!! wishing everyone a happy happy new year 🥳🫶🏻🍾

i want to acknowledge the people who ive talked to or interacted with who have touched my life deeper than they could ever know. i dont think i listed everyone and im sure that i didnt. whether you're tagged or not, if you follow me and interact, i hold you dear to my heart. even if you're inactive, i will think about you. and if you have left, i still love you. 🩷

snoopy anon, raccoon anon, @ttyls @babyjakes @eulalielatibule @sweetdreamsbuck @levans44 @worksby-d @eloquentreverie @rodrikstark @intrepidacious @thornsnvultures @punemy-spotted @boxofbonesfic @scrumptious-delusion @dc418writes @angrythingstarlight @krirebr @giorno-plays-piano @venusstorm @biteofcherry @ronearoundblindly @starksbabie @ghotifishreads @buckymorelikefuckme @needleandhammer @onsunnyside @rubythecrimsonwriter and all my beloveds who have moved on. river, ren, wherever you are i hope you're doing well.

[navybrat817]

Librarian!Bucky Barnes! People aren’t really your forte; you’re not the best at verbal communication. It’s why you’ve always found solace in books. Your town librarian understands. You’re not sure how he came to be here, or who he was before, but the rumors don’t bother you. He leaves books for you in your check-out bin, notes written on post-it notes in the margins of the ones he knows will interest you. At last, someone who really understands.

😈

I adore this and hope you like what I came up with!

Prized Possession

Pairing: Dark Librarian!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You're Bucky's rare treasure, his most prized possession. Word Count: Almost 1.5k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Dubcon/Noncon elements (please do NOT read if that upsets you), drugging, kidnapping, cockwarming, mention of minor character death, dark elements, possessive behavior, displays of Stockholm Syndrome, librarian!Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?), A/N: Hey, lovelies! Here's my submission for @boxofbonesfic Monkey Paw Challenge. Congrats on 7k! Thank you to Nix for the GORGEOUS Bucky edit and @late-to-the-party-81 for the beautiful moodboard. Also thank you to @sgt-seabass for "prized possession". Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by the talented @vase-of-lilies. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

When you were little, you used to dream that you would one day fall in love with a handsome prince. All the books you read had the princesses being saved from their peril to live happily ever after. You wished for your prince to shield you from the darkness of the world and love you for who you are. Your parents eventually told you to get your nose out of the books and live in reality. It was a silly dream.

And dreams sometimes turned to nightmares. 

Bucky let out a sigh of happiness as he paused in his reading, reminding you of how good he felt to be surrounded by the heat of your wet pussy. One of his favorite ways to read to you was to have you seated on his hard cock, his lips against your ear as he spoke. It was a daily routine now and the dull ache between your legs was a sensation you had grown used to over time. He made sure of it. Everything began and ended with Bucky Barnes. 

Everything.

“Do you remember the day we met?” he asked, nuzzling the column of your throat as he rocked his hips up. 

“I do,” you whispered. 

Your life changed the moment you met him. A chance encounter with the handsome new librarian put you directly in his path. You hadn’t expected to bump into him while roaming the familiar shelves, clutching the small pile of books to your chest as he looked into your eyes. You had never seen such a brilliant shade of blue before. 

And you never would again.

“Is there something I can help you find?” 

“Y-You’re not Will,” you said, taking in his short, brown hair and strong jawline. He took up space between the shelves without meaning to with his muscular frame and you chided yourself for staring. 

The smile he gave you made you shrink back more. “No, I’m not. I’m actually his replacement. I’m Bucky.”

You said your name as he looked at you expectantly. You didn’t know Will planned to quit, but didn’t question it as Bucky helped you pick one more book. Instead of getting frustrated with your small nods and one or two word answers to his questions, he was careful to help choose the right story for you.

“Sorry,” you said as he helped you at the front desk, carefully looking over your library card.

“For what?” he asked, taking one more look before giving the card back and pushing the books toward you.

“Not saying much,” you answered, tucking them into your arms. Conveying messages through spoken word wasn't your strong suit, so you did your best to express it in other ways. A kind smile here and a friendly wave there, but it didn't always work. Books were comforting because they didn’t judge you.

“Nothing to apologize for, doll. I know not everyone is a chatterbox,” he swore, the small smile you gave in response making him grin. “Tell you what. Why don’t I leave a few books for you when those are due back so you don’t feel obligated to talk to me?” 

“Oh,” heat quickly rushed to your cheeks. “You don’t-”

“I don’t mind,” he promised. 

"Okay. Thanks,” you swore, giving him a tiny wave as you cradled the books with the other hand.

“See you soon, doll,” he smiled. 

You felt his eyes on you when you left and he hadn’t stopped watching you since.

“You had the most beautiful smile. It was endearing,” he explained, shutting the book and setting it aside.

You had heard whispers about Bucky since he took over at the library. Will had given no warning to quitting and no one even saw him leave town. Some say he killed him, but there was no proof. Others said that something wasn’t right in his mind after he served in the Army. You ignored the rumors. He mostly kept to himself and did a good job.

Maybe you should’ve listened.

“You were always nice to me.”

Whenever you saw Bucky around town, you gave him a small, awkward wave. He always waved back with a lopsided grin. You liked that he didn’t force you into interacting with him, but you found yourself drawn to him anyway. Who wouldn’t be drawn to a handsome, mysterious and kind man?

You should’ve questioned why you saw him around your street when he lived blocks away. Or why small things began to go missing from your place. You thought at the time that you were being forgetful. It was foolish to pretend.

“The world is a cruel place and I knew I had to protect you.”

Blaine was a bully who teased you relentlessly whenever he encountered you, knowing you wouldn't say anything back. It was usually a comment about your looks or how maybe you could you up if he fucked you. Bucky witnessed it once from a distance, but you rushed off before he could see if you were okay. It didn't bother you and you didn't want to trouble him. Blaine thought he found an easy target and nothing more.

He broke his neck in a freak accident two days later.

And Bucky left you a flower with a new stack of books.

“You wanted me. I know you did,” he grunted, thrusting up to make you keen. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to shove you against one the bookshelves and fuck you until you cried.”

You had a feeling it took a lot of restraint. There was always a dark look in his eyes in the moments he got close to you. A brush against your backside or a touch to your arm, but they somehow seemed innocent. 

There was nothing innocent about his intentions.

“You even kept all the notes I left you.” he sighed, tracing lazy circles along your clit as you whined.

Each time Bucky chose a book for you, he left a handwritten note. It was either a reason for why he chose the story or why he thought you’d like it. You appreciated that he chose romantic stories since most of the guys in town wanted nothing to do with you. Each one was special to you. He even asked you out on a date with a note.

They lined the wall across from you, along with photos Bucky had taken of you.

“My perfect doll. Never prying or asking questions,” he murmured, his teeth lightly nipping your soft flesh. “I knew I had to have you.”

Your first date was at his place, not wanting you pressured to go out in town. The romantic indoor picnic just for two felt personal and special. You didn’t remember much after having a drink of wine. But you knew you hadn’t been home since.

“I deserve you,” he lightly bit down again as he brought you closer to the edge, your legs trembling against his thick thighs. “My most prized possession.”

The missing items from your place were in the room, along with other things Bucky moved in. You weren’t sure how he gained access to your place. It was best not to ask. 

“Tell me you love me,” he urged, snapping his hips as you reached back to grip his hair. He groaned when you pulled on the short strands. “Now.”

“I love you, Bucky. I love you!” you cried. 

“Then come for me,” he demanded, pinching your swollen bundle of nerves.

A tear fell from your eye as you succumbed to pleasure, flooding his cock and lap with your release. He wrapped a hand around your throat to keep you still, his grip prolonging your orgasm. He knew your body, and had taken the time to explore it. And your cunt pulsed around him with the need to be filled.

“That’s my good girl,” he groaned, giving you what your body asked for after a few shallow thrusts, his seed coating your trembling walls.

“Yours,” you moaned because it was the truth.

Bucky breathed heavily against your shoulder as you head lolled to the side, but he refused to leave the haven of your body. “Let’s finish this chapter.”

“Okay,” you exhaled, seeping around his cock as he opened the book again. You stared off as he began to speak again, taking in the beauty of the prison he created for you. The four walls were spacious and fresh flowers brightened it up. And there was an endless supply of books.

“Look at this, doll,” he smiled as he held the open book in front of your face. “He wants to start a family. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Another tear fell as you sadly smiled and nodded. You didn’t know if anyone was looking for you or if they even cared. And Bucky? He wasn’t the prince who rescued you from the tower. He put you in one to preserve you. His most prized possession.

Bucky’s happily ever after.

*****

I'd really like to explore more librarian!Bucky, soft, soft!dark or dark. What do we think? Thanks for reading!

[cockslutpadalecki]

Mean!Steve Rogers! Working at the daycare on the ground floor of Stark Tower is your dream job, though it has often landed you in rather... interesting situations. Least of which, is acting as something of an on call babysitter for Earth's mightiest parents. Luckily though, it's just the littlest Stark that usually requires your attention. And you're glad of it too; it seems like every time you're around, one man in particular has a slick comment waiting for you, a snide remark that makes everyone else laugh while you force an uncomfortable smile.

Who knew Captain America had a little mean streak?

😈

Hot For Teacher

Characters: Dark!Mean!Steve Rogers x F!Reader.

Words: 1.4K.

Warnings: non-con, mean!Steve, workplace bullying, misogyny, sexism, explicit sexual content, 18+.

A/N: Been a hot minute since I posted anything, but here is my (very late) entry to @boxofbonesfic Monkey’s Paw challenge. Thank you so much for allowing me to participate— I so hope you enjoy and congratulations on 7K, you deserve every single one and more! Many thanks to my pre-readers @maladaptivexxdaydreaming and @yarnforbrains, you’re the best. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback and reblogs are golden.

Stark Tower is almost in complete darkness when you show up, save for a few sporadic lights coming from the lower floors where you know most of the night staff will still be working.

You reach the front door and swipe your key card, the little green light granting you entry as the door automatically unlocks. It’s eerily quiet as you walk across the main foyer and past reception, pausing to stop at the security station to your left. Mike is already on his feet, a curious look on his face.

“You’re not usually here this late,” he observes with a smile. 

You lean onto the desk, noting several coffee cups and a half-eaten pack of donuts as a basketball game plays out on one of the many screens flicking in front of him.

“Duty calls,” you say with a little sigh, nodding towards the front door of the daycare behind you. “Has Ms. Potts dropped Morgan off yet?” 

Mike furrows his brow, looking puzzled. “I don’t follow.” 

“I was called-” you start to explain, but think better than to bore him with your strange arrangement with the Starks, “y’know what, don’t worry. I’ll just go and wait inside for her.” You step to walk away before turning back towards Mike. “Can you buzz me when they arrive?”

You can tell he wants to question your request further, but keeps his mouth closed as he nods in understanding. “Of course, will do.”

You can’t remember the day you realised you’d effectively become the Stark’s on-call babysitter— the first time it happened their nanny had been struck down with food poisoning. Pepper called you in a frenzy, asking if you could watch Morgan while they attended a Stark Expo that they couldn’t get out of.

You had said yes without much hesitation or thought, more than happy to help out seeing as Morgan is never any trouble. 

The second time, it was a family emergency. 

You never questioned what happened to their nanny after the third and fourth occasions, it had seemingly just become the new arrangement overnight. You take care of S.H.I.E.LD agents’ children during the day and watch Morgan at night when Tony and Pepper need you. 

-

You fish in your pocket for your keys as you reach the door and place your hand on the handle, surprised when it pushes down. 

Weird. You swear you locked it when you closed up earlier in the evening. Shaking your head, you rebuke yourself for clearly not double-checking it when you left. 

You head inside, choosing not to bother putting the lights on as you manoeuvre your way through the myriad of toys and play sets to get to your office. Setting down your overnight bag as you turn on the lamp on your desk, you mentally plan to check the windows to make sure you didn’t forget to lock up anywhere else, when a noise from the playroom startles you. 

Whirling round, you’re met with nothing but darkness. Just your imagination. You turn back, suddenly eager to check that nothing is out of place when there’s another sound from behind you. Once more, you spin on your heel and this time, come face to face with Steve Rogers. Even though his features are welcoming— soft and kind, his steely stare is paradoxical, making you feel cold under the muted office light sending twisted shadows up the wall. 

“Fuck, you scared me,” you huff, placing a hand to your chest to calm yourself.  

He doesn’t apologise. In fact, he almost looks happy that he frightened you as he casually leans against the door frame, blocking you in. “I know it’s all career with you women these days, but it’s a bit late to be here, isn’t it?” 

His tone sets you on edge immediately, and you scowl. 

“I’m waiting for Morgan, remember? You called me on behalf of Ms. Potts.” 

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he waves you off nonchalantly like the phone call he had made to you at Pepper’s behest only an hour ago is a long-forgotten memory. “Guess they’re caught in traffic coming back into the city,” he adds with a shrug as he pushes himself off the frame. 

“I guess so,” you reply tersely, walking towards him. He steps back a little when you squeeze past, but not enough to stop you from having to brush up against him to get through.

Feeling his stare burning a hole into your back, you pick up the pace towards the nap room, eager to create as much space between you as possible. You’ve managed to prevent being in such close proximity to him for the past three years of working here, you’re damn well not ready to start now. 

Steve has always been somewhat… hostile towards you for unknown reasons. A little cold. Belligerent even. You’re glad you’ve not had cause to be in his company much, the cruelty of his snide comments always makes you have to swallow down your contempt, even when everyone else around you laughs at your expense.

It all started a few months after the daycare opened— at first, Steve would blank you in the corridor even when he’d happily acknowledge the person you so happened to be with. Pepper often reassured you that he was just shy, probably a little apprehensive about getting to know someone new. You briefly held out the hope that one day you might strike up a friendship with the super soldier, but he just seemed to get nastier and more intimidating as time went by. 

Clearly you had done something to upset him considering his behaviour, but you never had the opportunity to find out why.

You hurry to the clusters of beds, straightening out the blankets and fluffing up a pillow ready for Morgan’s arrival when you feel him close behind you. 

“Is there something you need from me?” you question brusquely, glancing at him over your shoulder. The way he stares at your bent over form makes your stomach knot in disgust. 

He shakes his head. “No,” comes his reply. “Can’t have you waiting here alone; you never know who might be lurking in the dark corners of this place.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Like you were?” 

You straighten up and edge past him, desperate to widen the gap between you. Mindlessly, you rummage through a cupboard, not looking for anything in particular but for an excuse to keep yourself from maintaining eye contact with him for too long. As soon as you sense him closing in behind you, you shift from your position and head out into the play area, determined to keep your distance, but Steve easily keeps up.

“Why do you keep running away from me?” he queries with curiosity. Picking up a large stuffy that’s fallen onto the floor, you wish you had the strength to suffocate the man with it as you shove it back amongst the other teddies.

With a deep breath, you turn around to face him. “I’m not.” 

“Are you afraid of me?” His eyes almost flash with excitement at the prospect.

“Afraid of America’s Sweetheart?” you scoff. “No.” 

You’re certainly afraid of his sharp tongue towards you, but you put that down to the misogyny that was still rampant back in the 1940s. Some men never grow out of that ideology.

His jaw ticks as his smile drops. “I suppose this is as close as you're gonna get to having kids, isn’t it?” Your eyes narrow as he continues, stepping closer and closer until he’s practically towering over you. “Single dame like you, all alone. I bet you haven’t had a decent fuck in years.”

The shock of hearing him curse is outweighed by the sound of the slap resonating around the room just as your hand smarts from the contact. Steve’s cheek blushes claret, and the weight of your action comes crumbling down as he almost tackles you to the floor. 

The pile of teddies helps to cushion your fall a little while you punch and slap at his chest, but your struggle seems to spur him on even more, and he’s laughing as he nestles himself between your spread legs. A horrible weight settles in your gut when your hips react to his touch, unconsciously seeking out more as he rips right through the material of your yoga pants, just enough for him to gain access to your cunt. 

“It’s okay, I’m here to change all that for you.”

“Stop- Morgan- be here-” you croak, tears thick in your voice. 

Steve plunges two fingers into your wet heat, your stomach rolling with nausea as your walls hug and clench around the invasion.

He laughs, the sound chilling you to the bone. “Don’t worry, she’s not coming. She never was.”

***

ALL CE: @buckymydarlingangel @broadwaybabe18 @captain-asguard @chamberofsloths @cevansgurl @dreamlessinparis @deanwinchesterswitch @fandom-princess-forevermore @hurricanerin @jvstjewels @la-cey @ladybug05 @livstilinski @ladydmalfoy @mugi-chwan95 @navybrat817 @otomefromtheheart @oneoftheprettynerds @patzammit @rebel-stardust @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @sammykb1994 @syrenavenger @straywords @saiyanprincessswanie @sunwardsss @selfsun @threeminutesoflife @vicmc624 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @xoxonotme

4EVS: @amirra88 @andreasworlsboring101 @b3autyfuldisast3r @cheesyclaire @dangertoozmanykids101 @daughterofthenight117 @dandywinchesterbras @deangirl93 @doozywoozy @foxyjwls007 @geekofmanyforms @heyyouwiththeassbutt @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @ilovefanfic86 @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @letsby @letsdisneythings @labella420 @mogaruke @maliburenee @notyourtypicalrose @nik2write @obsessivelycapricious @patrick-hockslutter @princessmisery666 @phildunphyisadilf @roxyfan14-blog @sea040561 @sweeterthanthis @slutformarvelmen @simpformarvelmenandwoman @smokeandnailz @stoneyggirl @stoneyggirl2 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @thegirlnextdoorssister @unfortunate-brat @warriorqueen1991 @xoxabs88xox