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biteofcherry · 1 year

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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.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #once upon a time challenge #dark fairytale #boxofbonesfic challenge #boxofbonesfic #make the dust fly

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chasingmidnights · 1 year

Text

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.

#boxofbonesfic writers camp #boxofbonesfic challenge #boxofbonesfic #feels like dying #bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fandom #marvel #marvel characters #marvel fanfiction

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cockslutpadalecki · 2 years

Note

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.”

***

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#boxofbonesfic #answered #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x you #dark!steve x reader #chris evans fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction

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umber-cinders · 11 months

Link

Title: 𝐼𝑓 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑆ℎ𝑜𝑒 𝐹𝑖𝑡𝑠

Pairing: Alpha!M’Baku x Black!OmegaReader

Summary: It has come time for Alpha M’Baku to cede his father in the role of packleader. You're well were aware of the so-called prophecy that was was given to Alpha M’Baku’s parents before he was born: To keep their lineage and pack strong and successful for generations to come, their first born son would have to find and mate with his soulmate. The entire concept is only vaguely interesting to you. You're not fond of the idea of prophecies and fates, but they sure are fond of you.

Rating: MATURE (18+)

Warnings: 🔞Dub-Con Elements🔞, ABO/Omegaverse Dynamics, Threats and talks or violence/murder, Implied Sexual Content, Asshole Family

❥MasterList❥

You honestly don’t understand what all the fuss is about. M’Baku is lord and leader of Pack Jabari; he throws parties and formal events all the damn time. And yet your stepmother, Ifeoma, and her daughters are all in a tizzy as if the world was about to end when they received word of this one. It didn’t take long to find out why. As you were sweeping the floor between the kitchen and dining room, it took about five seconds for Ifeoma’s eldest daughter, Ngozi, to run her mouth.

“Lord M’Baku is looking for a mate!” She squealed excitedly. “This is going to be the biggest party of my entire life!”

“Yeah, but all omegas of the pack are invited.” Uloma told her sister serenely.

Ngozi narrowed her eyes. “So?”

“So—” Uloma smiles. “I’d hate for my only sister to get her feelings hurt when he ends up choosing me instead.”

“In your dreams, Lolo!” Ngozi snorts. “He doesn’t want a little girl, he wants a woman—An omega that will be able to stand by his side and rule the pack with him!”

“I am twenty-one! That is hardly a little girl! I am of mating age! Besides, a lot of alphas like fresh omegas to shape into their wives.” Uloma declared.

“We’re two years apart! I’m not stale goods yet!” Ngozi snapped.

Your face visibly scrunched up into an annoyed grimace. Not only was their bickering headache-inducing, but the subject matter was cringeworthy.

❥Read The Rest On Ao3 ❥

#M'Baku #M'Baku x Black!reader #m'baku x reader #m'baku x oc #Black Panther #Wakanda forever #black panther wakanda forever #bpwf #fanfic #fanfiction #winston duke #a03 #My Fics #boxofbonesfic #Fairy god mothers are actually assholes #alpha/beta/omega dynamics

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

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If it's only a fantasy, then why is it killing me?

Warnings: implied noncon/coercion, touching, nudity.

Written for @boxofbonesfic Monkey’s Paw challenge celebration.

I was issued this prompt: Andy Barber is a good dad—a sight better than the ones who usually show up on PTA nights. Always patient, a good listener—really involved in Jacob’s school life, more than half of the fathers of all the students in your class. You figure your crush is completely harmless—that is, until Andy asks if maybe you’ll stop by the house with Jacob’s progress report. At your convenience, of course.

Please leave a comment and reblog <3

You reread the text, double checking the address of the house before you. You don't need to really, you recognise the car in the driveway.

Usually you wouldn't go out of your way like this, not for those smug disconnected parents of spoiled teenagers but Andy Barber isn't the usual dad. He comes to every PTA meeting, attends all of Jacob's games, and even volunteers for field trips. He's hands on and oh, boy is he handsome. Married, but you can admire him from afar.

Even if he didn't have a ring on his finger, he'd never look in your direction. You might be of an age but you don't look half as good as him. He works out and you stress over teenagers who aren't even yours. It shows, for both of you.

You grab your bag and get out of your car. A neighbour might get nosy, or suspicious, if you sit there any longer. You click up the tarmac and carefully ascend the rounded stone steps to the front door. You changed into your heels so your calves looked less like cankles.

You blow out a breath and shake out your arms, your bag slipping to your elbow clumsily. You right yourself and wait. You lift your knuckles to the door but stop as you spot the tiny camera where the peephole should be. You glance over and hit the button for the doorbell cam.

You wait and peek over at the car. Maybe he's not there. Laurie has a car too. You've seen it once or twice when she came with him to parent-teacher nights. What if you misread–

The door opens and you flinch as Andy grips the edge, slightly out of breath and… dripping. You blink as your lips part, too stunned to say anything as you take in his damp hair, his glistening chest, so muscular, and his stomach, oh my god!

"Hey, I'm so sorry," he clutches the towel around his waist, "it slipped my mind. I had a huge deposition after I messaged you and– doesn't matter, come in."

"Um, okay," you say hesitantly as he steps back , "you know, I could send it with Jacob tomorrow–"

"You're here now, come on," he waves you in and waits.

You enter. Is he watching you? Or maybe you're just paranoid because you're trying not to look at him. How does a man his age look that good?

"I'm sorry about… me, ha," he chuckles and tucks the towel under and lets it hang from his waist.

"I have the midterm report here," you almost whisper as you search in your bag, "Jacob, uh, did very well, much better than last year–"

"You okay?" He asks as you pull out a paper and check to make sure it’s the one.

“Fine,” you croak. Exactly. You’re fine. Just a spinster teacher standing beside a mostly naked man way out of your league. “Here,” you hold out the paper.

He takes it with a low thanks and turns to lean against the console table beside the shoe rack. He reads quietly, his free hand carelessly scratching the hair across his bare chest.

“I should just go–”

“You came all the way here,” he looks up, blue eyes sparkling, “at least stay for a drink.”

“I gotta drive,” you chew your lip, “but I appreciate the offer.”

“Water? Tea? Coffee?” he suggests as he stands. The towel shifts dangerously and he catches it.

You look down instinctively but quickly avert your eyes. He chuckles and steps closer, reaching for the strap of your bag. He grabs on before you can shy away and you look behind him at the picture of him and Laurie.

“We got this fancy sparkling water maker, you wanna try some? We got every flavour under the sun,” he says.

“Really I think–” you cling to your bag but he forces it from your grasp easily, “I should go–”

“Come on, it’s not that late, I got decaf, you seem more a coffee girl,” he puts your bag on the table and drops the report next to it.

“Girl?” you scoff, “right.”

“What are you? Early thirties?” he turns back to you, “through here.”

“Try adding ten years,” you roll your eyes, “but thanks for lying.”

He leads you into the kitchen and you follow, watching the way his shoulders move, the muscles taut beneath his skin, biceps bulging. This is weird. Very weird. But he doesn’t seem to care.

“You getting an eye full or what?” He spins to you suddenly and your ankles bend in your heels.

You cough and shake your head, “what, I–no.”

“Am I making you uncomfortable? You’re pretty quiet. Usually, it’s a mile a minute with you,” he smirks, “just say the word and the towel’s… gone.”

You stare at him in confusion. Then you laugh. He’s caught you out and now he’s teasing you. Were you really stupid enough to think he never noticed you drooling over him? Ha, let him get his kicks.

“Sorry, I– it’s harmless really, just a crush,” you rub the back of your neck, “I think I should go n–”

The towel flaps through the air and lands at your feet. You stagger and look down at it, jaw dropping as you refuse to look up. Whatever this game is, it’s gone a bit too far.

Andy comes closer as he laughs, one step at a time as humiliation crawls over you in fiery tingle. You glimpse him along your peripheral, through the fan of your lashes, his hand moving up and down his length. Big, thick, just like the rest of him. He catches your chin before you can back away.

“Mr. Barber,” you try to resist as he forces your head up, your skull aching from his easy strength, “I…”

“This is what you’ve been wanting, isn’t it?” He grips you and pulls you closer, “naughty little school teacher, huh?”

“I…” you search his face, “like I said, just a crush–”

“Not for me,” he purrs as he leans in and his breath scalds, “is it a crush when you’re all alone in that tiny apartment… playing with yourself?”

“Mr–”

“I like those little shorts you wear, with the flowers,” he rasps, lips brushing against yours, “like to watch you take them off. Can’t help but wish it was me.”

“Andy,” you put your hands on his chest, heart pounding as you feel the soft hair and the thumping of his own adrenaline, “please, you’re married–”

“And lonely, like you,” he closes the gap and kisses you, hungrily, exactly as you always imagined. You pull back breathless and pant as you stare at him, “why’d you put the heels on?”

“What?” you quiver.

“You changed,” he looks down and his eyes slowly ascend, deliberate and devilish, “why did you do that?”

Your eyes round as your fingers curl into his chest hair unthinkingly. How did he know that.

“Just stupid…” you utter, “I can’t–”

“You came all this way,” he brings his other hand around the back of your skull and jerks you close to him, his dick bobbing between your bodies as he pushes his thumb over your lower lip, “you did this, don’t leave me this way.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #boxofbonesfic #defending jacob

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frostironfudge · 2 years

Text

Hide Your Lies - Mafia!Bucky, Mafia!Steve x Reader One Shot (Smut)

Summary: Steve and Bucky run the mafia of the town, being with them gets anyone, anything they want. You catch their eye, and they want you. However, the three of you are hiding behind lies, waiting to be told.

Pairing: soft dark mafia!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader, soft dark mafia!Steve Rogers x Plus SIze!Reader, Stucky x Plus Size!Reader

Warnings: MINORS DNI, Mafia dynamics, shameless smut, werewolves, werewolf dynamics, dub con, angst, hurt/comfort, double penetration (not anal), p with plot, slight dumbification kink, authority kink, dom-sub dynamics, soft doms, aftercare, threesomes, bucky and his knife, edging, fingering, thigh riding, canon level violence, kidnapping of the reader, feral bucky and steve, marking kink, breeding kink, lovebites, badass reader, graphic descriptions of violence (none to to the reader), hair-pulling, hand kink, nipple play, possessive behaviour, some fat shaming comments are said to the reader by secondary characters, praise kink, food used in the bedroom (strawberries, i'm staring at Bucky and you will too, menace this man is a menace, i love him)

Word Count: 9.6k Dividers: @firefly-graphics

A.N: this my submission for @boxofbonesfic ‘s #Beastyoumadeofme22 challenge, honestly their prompts make me run wild with what I write. I’ve used The Hills - The Weeknd from the song list that was provided, the song was on repeat every-time I worked on this fic, so I think my spotify wrapped will be changing lol. Also please let me know your feedback and if I’ve missed any warnings so i will add them, happy (smutty) reading! (Also Bucky Barnes having a knife in his hand I almost went off a tangent and lets just say I may explore that idea later). Thank you for letting me participate!

Main Masterlist || My AO3

Now.

their eyes are on you. every movement tracked. every breath counted. every sip or bite of a morsel noted.

“how is she fairing?”

“limited eating.”

“we need her fed but weak enough.”

“i know.”

the conversation isn’t unknown, same sentences every damn day, as clockwork.

how long has it even been? a week? two? three?

the small window in the top corner greeted the cold room with sunshine, illuminating the flecks of dust floating freely.

a luxury in your eyes now.

the men leave, you predict their imminent return at dusk.

when darkness blooms across the window and the smell of the night blooming jasmines creep along the edges of the moonless night.

the men return, a woman in tow.

you keep your eyes on the small window, your visual gateway to the world once harboured.

the clang against the metal makes you flinch, a powdery scent cascades as the woman seats herself on a folding out chair.

“you haven’t been eating.” she states.

you lick your lips, the dryness upon them rubs against the flesh of your tongue, with hints of the metallic taste from the cut upon your bottom lip.

“nor will you answer the questions.” she states again.

“we have several ways to make you speak, if you continue this childish behaviour.” the man steps forward, a wicked smile gracing his greying features.

“we just want to know about them.” the woman asks of you again.

you sigh. eyes shifting to her. she tucks her blonde hair back, eager to see you might speak.

you stare silently instead.

the man stomps over to you clutching your hair pulling you up, tears prick at the ripping of strands.

“speak or we can get you to speak.” he spits the words, throwing you back down.

“they watch.” you murmur, giving them something.

“what and who do they watch? you must tell us, we can keep you safe.” the woman assures, you begin to laugh, the cut on your lip stings as they extend into a smile.

“they watch us all.” you keep the glee ever present as they exit heads shaking at the meagre information.

your eyes return to the window, two sets of eyes watch you, one houses a grim expression, the other stares at you in concern.

Then.

these roads were a one way ticket to success or to ruin. yet your steps echo in your ears as you traverse to the home rather mansion that resides upon the foot of the quaint hills.

a floral scent lingers in the air, getting stronger as you draw closer to the short flight of stairs.

the crescent moon watches over you, the music now louder, faintly the bass causes vibrations to the metal railing.

the door opens to smoke, liquor and cheers of strangers.

you smile at the drink offered upon entry throwing the hard liquor back, easing your nerves.

two men stand upon the table as the music lowers in volume.

“so those fuckers—,” the shorter haired brunette but built man sways as he speaks, a grin on his chiseled face.

“those stupid fuckers, tried to put Barnes and Rogers behind fucking bars and watch us fall!” the brunette watches with elation at the uproar of rage in the crowd.

the blonde haired man, having the larger chest between the two raises his hand the crowd quiets in the slightest.

“but you know us, we never let anything of worth go, nor do we let our enemies walk away. raise your glasses, for we have expanded territory.”

“to Steve” the brunette raises his glass towards the blonde man

“and to James.” the blonde raises his glass to the brunette the crowd is in cheers once more.

the uproar is louder than before, drinks sloshed, the blonde man grabs a woman and they share a kiss, she pulls away, with a heady grin. of course she just has the chance at all they promise.

you watch on, after all they are the two you know who hold power in this city.

the two disappear, your gaze searches for them, only to fail.

you swallow the remainder of your drink, moving to the centre, bodies move against you as the smoke and haze create the illusion of a memorable night.

you move with the man dancing behind you his hands on your waist, you turn, back against his chest.

Steve catches your gaze, you raise your hands encircling around your partner’s neck, but your eyes remain on Steve as he watches, a smug grin on his face.

he licks his lips, raising his right hand, two fingers curl, beckoning you closer.

you comply.

Steve has his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly releasing it when you come closer.

“we usually do not let in new faces.” he guides your hand around his neck, you shift closer standing between his legs.

you lightly tug on the strands of his soft hair. He hums. you wonder how it would sound if he was laying next to you in the quiet of the night.

“why not make an exception?” you ask, gazing up at him.

“you’re here to get ahead aren’t you? more than half of them are, what makes you so different?” Steve’s other hand, pushes your hair back, fingers curving around your jaw, slowly turning your face as though examining an artefact.

“what makes you oh so special for us?” James whispers, teasing goosebumps raise upon your neck at his warm breath. his hand on your left hip. fingers softly digging into the flesh. when did he appear you fail to realise.

“you want me to plead my case?” you question, tilting your head to gaze at him.

“something like that,” James’ nose brushes along your neck, his eyes on Steve, who nods, a smirk on his face.

you whimper and tug harder on Steves hair when James nips at the base of your neck.

“we aren’t very patient men, doll.” Steve reminds you of the impending question.

“these people are fleeting, they’ll take once and give once. i’m willing to remain.” you voice your proposition.

The music fades into background.

“is that what you want?” James has a deep baritone as trails his fingers down your thigh.

“to be bound to us?” Steve moves the hand on your jaw as his index and middle fingers trace over the neckline of your outfit, over your breasts.

He smiles appreciatively as your nipples harden.

“by flesh and flesh only.” they speak in unison, their warmth making you glow, you’re flush between them, feeling their desire against your abdomen and back.

their hands wandering over your needy skin.

“we need an answer, sweetheart.” Steve chastises, continuing to explore your flesh.

you find both of them are tracing your inner thighs.

“by flesh and flesh only.” you repeat.

“such a good girl.” Bucky praises.

their middle fingers trace over the wetness pooling, your hips move, needy.

“would you look at that Steve?” Bucky says in marvel almost.

“so responsive, Buck.” Steve hums, you preen, feeling yourself turn slicker.

the fabric of your panties tears at their mercy, Bucky’s fingers trace over your folds, while Steve circles your clit.

they glance at each other, your hand shifts around Bucky’s neck, clutching at his hair.

two fingers enter you, you tug on their hair biting back your moans.

“we prefer to hear those pretty sounds.” Steve reprimands with a tug on your clit he plunges his fingers back inside, Bucky lazily moves his finger in sync with Steve.

you let go of your bottom lip, your moans louder and needier as their pace increases. Steve circles his thumb around your clit, Bucky tugs on your nipples through the fabric of your dress.

“we’ll make you feel so good, so full, you want it all don’t you?” Steve questions pinching your clit as your hips stutter. You nod, your words turning into moans.

“you’re close aren’t you, doll?” Bucky’s fingers are thick and deep, tracing over your walls for that spot that will have you fall apart for them.

You nod, their names tumble from your lips as a prayer it only urges them on to quicken their actions,

“how do you think she will taste, Steve?”

“oh we will have a taste once we make her cum all over our hands. You would do that for us sweetheart? look at her chasing for her release.”

“good girls ask permission to cum.” Bucky tugs on your nipples, you only whimper in response, the coil in your stomach tightening.

“and when good girls behave they get rewarded.” Steve adds, through the haze of their movements you find your voice.

“please, please let me cum.” your words choke as you moan when Bucky’s fingers graze over your gspot.

The brunette grins wickedly at Steve as he keeps his calloused digits brushing over your gspot.

“Should we let her cum, Buck?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky’s tone is teasing as his fingers relentlessly keep hitting the spot, “I think we should.”

At his agreement, the coil snaps within you as you gush all over their fingers with a loud moan, their fingers continue to pump in and out of you riding out your orgasm.

“so fucking pretty falling apart for us.”

“such a good little girl.”

your eyes squeeze shut, breathless and all at once the music around you returns to full volume.

The two of them hum in delight, curiously you open your eyes watching them lick their fingers clean. You feel your clit pulsate.

“We’re just getting started, sweetheart.” Steve promises.

From that night what bloomed and bound you to Steve and Bucky only had them even more so addicted to you.

Everything you point at you were given and what you did not point to also kept within palm’s reach.

The nights belonged to them, as they pleased. Either the night would never end or the bed would be cold by daylight.

Leaving you only with reminders of where they’re hands were upon your skin. Marking you. Claiming you.

By flesh and flesh only.

You find yourself laying on your stomach the moon lazily gleams above from the window. The clock reads an early hour. The book you once held forgotten in favour of Steve’s hands moving over you.

Bucky watches, eating the remaining strawberries that he was feeding you just moments before.

“Oh don’t give me that look, poppet.” Bucky chides, your mouth parts as Steve’s tongue laps at the mess you’ve made dripping down your thighs.

“She tastes sweeter than those strawberries, Buck.” Steve hums against your clit, your body arches, fingers gripping the sheets harder.

“She looks something right out of a fantasy, full moon’s light falling on her, spread out between the two of us.” Bucky traces every curve of you and then Steve flips you over, slowly easing into you and Bucky begins his trace with the apex of the strawberry, circling it around your clit.

You watch as the small fruit glistens, a moan leaving your mouth as Bucky bites into it. The juice of the strawberry coating his beard.

“Fuck, petal.” Steve groans as he feels you clench around him.

“Oh did you enjoy that, poppet? Making Stevie feel so good, you’re so good for us.” Bucky repeats the action with the next strawberry, bringing it towards your lips.

“So fucking good.” Steve praises as he gives a particular thrust that has his cock brush against the spot you need him in, your lips part and you taste yourself mixed with strawberries and then Bucky’s lips meet yours, in a messy kiss as Steve picks up the pace of his movements.

You cry out, falling apart for them over and over, even as they soothingly rub their warm palms over you. Your body jolts overstimulated.

“Can you give me one more?” Bucky pleads, hands ghosting along your inner thigh.

“Bucky.” Steve chides, then their eyes meet when you part your legs for him.

Bucky’s fingers brush over your clit, his lips at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Steve’s beard brushes over the skin on the opposite side, they sit you up.

The three of you kneeling on the bed, you between them and their fingers inside you, the tightness in your bell returning quicker, you won’t last long, your hand grips Steve’s shoulder while the other is on Bucky’s forearm.

“Fuck, fuck,” You preen, grinding down on their fingers chasing the orgasm that will have you come undone for them. As the last of the night’s moonlight hits you three, just as you fall apart between the two larger men, they bite down on the skin of your neck, as you arch against them.

Spent from them drawing out five orgasms from you.

Your body slumps against theirs, Steve hushes you with soft kisses as Bucky retrieves a warm washcloth to clean you up, that night they don’t leave.

Keeping you warm till you wake, eager to sink down onto their hard cocks waiting for your sweet cunt to milk them.

you see them smiling and surrounded by everyone important. your friend and her acquaintance sits next to you, her eyes don’t leave the bite marks that frequent your skin.

“Come on, just tell me.” The acquaintance insists upon knowing.

“Why are you so intrigued?” Your friend asks for you.

“Because she was all goody two shoes in college and now…” The acquaintance gestures to the visible markings with her hand, her blonde hair glimmers in the lights that change.

James has his eyes on you, not enough to draw attention that you’re someone who means something to them. The whiskey burns his throat. He tries to satiate the burn he has to have you close.

“Barnes.” Sam’s voice brings him back into reality.

“Wilson.” He smiles.

“You know I’ve never seen you this lost. Whose caught your eye?” Natasha enquires from her spot at the table.

Steve gazes around the table as everyone’s eyes are on Bucky, he gives him a warning look. Bucky’s eyes shift to where you are, but they settle on the blonde instead as she stands in front of you.

Then waves as she sees he has her in his view.

Your best friend apologises with her gaze, as the acquaintance, whose name you don’t recall. Who probably did go to college with you.

You know their little entourage stays through the night. Watching who they are with, who James and Steve share. How often.

They hardly trust anyone.

Maybe they don’t even trust you.

You shrug in response to her apology.

“Where are you going, Shaina?” Your best-friend enquires as the blonde sashayed up the three steps to the higher booth.

“Just caught someone’s handsome eye.” She calls out; making her way to the table.

“Uh, you may want to not look there.” Your friend bites her lip nervously as you turn to watch her flirt shamelessly with James.

Your jaw tightens.

Your eyes flash to Steve, he doesn’t look your way. Always avoiding calling attention in public.

A server comes to your table,

“Yes?” You turn away from the scene Shaina is acting out. Bucky doesn’t like his arm touched without consent. He doesn’t prefer his collar fiddled with because he prefers the intimacy of undressing, exploring skin as it becomes visible, teasing the flesh.

You keep your opinions to yourself.

Squashing the jealously that dares to flare into an inferno.

Flesh and flesh only.

But was the heart not a piece of flesh too?

“The gentleman, seated there has sent this for you.” The server points to a newer man sitting at the table Steve and James head.

The blue eyed blonde man smiles, giving you a wave.

Steve’s blue eyes finally fall onto you at seeing John Walker wave to your table.

Steve’s lips press into a thin line, as you accept the drink from the server, raising it towards John and then sipping upon it.

John smirks at you, the hand that rests on his thigh raised beckoning you closer. You exhale, almost rolling your eyes.

“Is that a good idea?” Your friend’s tone is laced with worry.

“I’m just going to say, thank you.” You tell her, smoothening your dress the one that was waiting for you on your bed. The deep colour bringing out your skin, the shape enhancing the curves you already have, you walk over to the table.

“What a vision and all for me John Walker.” John gleams, his loud voice brings everyone’s attention.

Bucky’s nostrils flare, he grabs Shaina’s hand stopping it from inching higher up his arm.

The blonde woman frowns, then rolls her eyes when she sees you.

“Thank you for the drink.” You smile at John, his grin only grows tenfold. As his eyes rake over you, pausing over your hips and breasts you realise this drink has an ulterior motive.

“I believe there are ways to say thank you.” John says as though trying to teach you manners, “I would appreciate those.”

“Thanks as those warrant much different actions.” You smoothly reply, Natasha chuckles.

Johns smile drops but quickly returns not wanting to lose face.

“Come on, you’re here staying till late, you and I both know you’re looking for a fuck.” John barks out a laugh.

“Damn, girl. You’re a whole whore.” Shaina laughs as well.

You raise an eyebrow, “What did you just say?”

“Well you clearly are hooking up and yet you want more dick? You really have changed from that meek little romance novel reading thing.” Shaina chuckles.

Your hands grip your glass harder.

“I can treat you like a whore too.” John grabs your wrist. Turning you toward him. You wince as his grip tightens.

You can see Steve’s chest rising in anger, Bucky grows quiet. His eyes narrowed at John. The table silent.

You try pulling you arm away but John relents. Then pouring the remaining drink on John’s head, you begin walking away.

“Fucking bitch. Was doing her a favour by wanting to fuck her fat ass.” John hisses out loudly so you can hear.

Your friend grabs your purse handing it to you as you both walk out of the club. Not a glance spared to either of the men who said nothing. Did nothing.

“I don’t even understand who could enjoy fucking her?” Shaina looks at John, he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Must be really needing to prove his manhood by wanting to fuck her.” John rolls his eyes.

“Agreed. Now James where were we ah yes—,”

“Get out.” Bucky grits through his teeth.

“What, what do you mean?” Shaina seems dumbfounded.

“I said get out of my club and do not bother coming back.” Bucky pushes her hand away that was reaching for him again.

“Are you serious? Because of that fat bitch—,” Shaina yelps shifting several steps back as Bucky stands to his full height, he raises his hand to the side gesturing the security to come forth.

“Take the trash out, please.” He sits back down as the female security escorts Shaina out of the building.

“Now where were we with my percentage discussion?” John talks once they settle back down.

“Barnes, I think security forgot this is a piece of trash as well.” Steve says instead and John glares.

“The fuck?” John slams a hand on the table, questioningly looking between the four.

“Oh, we don’t deal with fuckers like you.” Bucky informs, “Assholes who have fragile egos and are disrespectful.”

“All for a stranger?” John scoffs, “Big mistake.”

“We’ll be the judge of that, now I know you know the exit.” Steve waves the man off dismissively.

John walks out flipping them off.

“Make sure no one buys from him.” Steve orders Natasha.

“On it.” She retrieves her phone.

“Are we going to address what happened?” Sam looks between his two bosses.

“She’s a regular patron.” Bucky shrugs, “Helped Becca out a few times, she needed help with my nieces.”

Sam nods, familial ties, explains the response. He shares a look with Natasha both are sure there is something further ongoing but they don’t say a word.

You sit on the bed, their looks of indifference burn at the forefront of your mind. Steve may have looked angry but stayed silent and Bucky was probably too busy with Shaina. You hold back the hurt.

Flesh and flesh only.

You chastise yourself. You asked for it to be this way. Not wanting more nor wanting to ask for more from Steve or James.

Your best friend returns with two mugs of coffee. You nurse the warm glass as it distracts your mind.

“How are you feeling?” She asks after taking a sip.

You shrug, “Fine I guess?”

She takes your name as if in disbelief.

You shrug again, relishing the warmth the beverage brings.

Your phone buzzes. You exhale as you read the text, “You need to leave, they’re coming over.” You tell your best friend.

“What? After they ignored you now they want sex? Why not do something? Why even allow Shaina to flirt when they have you? Or was it some second rate tactic to get you jealous.” She says narrowing her eyes.

“You, you know what I’ve agreed to, I shouldn’t care about what has to be said in my defence. They don’t owe having to defend my honour or anything. They aren’t in love with me.” You defend them again.

“But you are. With both of them.” She states, and you press your lips into a thin line.

“It doesn’t matter.” You say.

“You matter.” She insists.

“Just, let me deal with it if I don’t feel right when they come I’ll tell them off.” You offer in consolation, she reluctantly agrees.

You watch from your window as your best-friend slides into her cab with her location turned on and shared with you, the headlights of the familiar car illuminate the pathway to your apartment complex.

You sigh, heading towards the door. Internal conflict increases as you can almost feel them approach. How is this supposed to work when it gets fucked up?

The knocks are soft but an urgency in them carries through the door.

They stand in the small corridor, suit jackets discarded, sleeves rolled up to their elbows. Bucky’s eyes greet you first, going over you, cataloging everything in your appearance.

His own way of making sure you’re fine. His eyes linger on your wrist, the two scrunchies you placed catching his eye.

Steve’s hand twitches by his side, waiting for you to allow them inside. Needing to touch you to make sure, to affirm to Bucky that you’re indeed okay.

They share a look before you open the door wider to allow them inside, Steve pulls you into his embrace.

Your palms settle against his chest, Bucky shuts the door.

Steve traces his hands over you, seeing if you were hiding anything from them, at last he allows you to step away. Then gently takes the hand that harbours the scrunchies.

Bucky stands behind you, the heat of his chest seeping onto your back, his hands on your waist.

You wince when Steve takes off the scrunchies exposing the bruising left by John. You had tried to ice it to lessen the appearance of the stained skin. Bucky’s grip tightens on your waist. Not enough to hurt but enough to convey his anger.

Steve’s thumbs wipe your tears. You look up at him not realising that you had begun to silently weep.

“We’re so sorry, Poppet.” The longer haired man whispers against your skin.

“Should have him six feet under.” Steve says as his fingers delicately trace your skin.

You bite back what you want to say, the gleaming darkness enjoying the prospect of them being protective over you.

“Let us take it all away.” Steve hand his index finger under your chin, directing your gaze upwards to his, worried blue ones.

“We’ll make you forget all about him.” Bucky adds, hands inching from your waist over your hips to the hem of the dress you wanted them to take off of your skin.

Your best friend’s words echo in your mind.

“Will you forget her then?” You ask, as you’re turned to face Bucky, just moments before his lips brush against yours.

He pauses,

“Poppet, you know our arrangement.” He reminds you, brushing his fingers over your cheek.

Blue eyes hold sincerity.

“But will you forget her?” The darker side demands to know, was she enough to erase anyone else?

“Petal, we don’t want to take our eyes off of you.” Steve’s hand begins to unzip the dress.

“Do you know why I even looked at her?” Bucky’s fingers cup your jaw, making you look at him. Steve softly kisses the flesh exposed by the undone zipper.

Your eyes close as he moves towards your lower back.

“Look at me, Poppet.” Bucky commands and you comply, his gaze darkening.

“Why?” You ask, wetness pooling at your core when you feel Steve’s stubble brush along your inner thighs, then his fingers tracing delicate promises onto the heated flesh.

“Because I was looking at you all night, Steve told me off as well.” Bucky admits, turning you around, your back against his chest.

“Let us make it up to you.” Steve whispers, his hands grabbing the fabric of your panties and pulling them down your legs.

He places a kiss to each calf as he takes the material off of your skin, Bucky grabs the hem of the dress, pushing it upwards, to allow Steve to see you.

“Look at that Bucky, our girl is all wet for us.” Steve praises as his fingers gather your slick, as he moves them over your folds and circles them around your clit.

You preen, at his movements or his words you don’t know. Bucky takes the straps off the dress down your shoulders, exposing your breasts. He massages the flesh as your nipples begin to harden for him.

“Our girl really is so good to us isn’t she? So fucking beautiful.” Bucky tugs on your nipples, you jolt between them, Steve keeps a steady hand on your hips.

“She is, aren��t you Petal?” He asks, before his tongue laps at your folds.

You nod, meekly, between Bucky’s calloused fingers on your nipples and Steve tongue circling your clit. You grasp at his hair, tugging hard as he sucks on your clit. Steve’s fingers circle at your entrance, he eases them in moaning against your folds as he feels your cunt clench around them.

Bucky’s lips latch onto yours, his hand grabbing your hair, tilting your head back to devour your mouth swallowing all the moans and sounds you make upon his tongue.

“Won’t you cum for us?”

You wither between them, Steve watches as Bucky controls your pace as you make a mess of his thigh, Bucky contracts the muscle every so often while he has you grind down harder.

“Our beautiful, beautiful girl.”

Bucky runs a hand through your hair, as your lips stretch around Steve’s cock. Spit and cum dribble down your chin. Steve’s moans has your cunt clenching around nothing begging to be filled by them.

“So fucking sweet, all for us. Going to fill you up.”

“Both of our seeds inside you, claiming you for ourselves.”

You’re eased down onto Bucky’s cock, both of you moan as you feel him fill you to the hilt. Steve pumps his cock you watch it glisten with your cum and slick. You clench around Bucky.

Steve moves closer, rubbing his tip in circles on your clit, you know you’re dripping and this only adds to it.

He uses the lube, on his fingers two sinking inside you above Bucky’s cock. You had done this before with them but every time they’d make sure to prep you.

The stretch stings a little, Bucky’s lips on your skin and his fingers twisting your nipples aid in distraction. They whisper praises as Steve begins to ease his cock into you, tears spring to your eyes at the stretch and the moan that leaves your lips makes both of their cocks twitch in anticipation of the feeling.

“Ours, ours, ours,”

Their words ring akin to a hymn upon your skin. Waking up something far more primal, even if their claims upon you remained within these four walls.

Slumber finds you quicker than most nights, you fight it off till they are done caring for you. Easing out of you carefully, running a bath of warm water and then showering with you.

Their hands soft, warm, protective. Possessive.

Bucky and Steve kiss their claimed spots on the based of your neck, you sigh in content at the love-bites they’ve left upon you. A silent remind of being theirs and them being yours as you do the same to their skin.

Steve stares at your sleeping form, his jaw tightening when he still sees where John hurt you.

“Careful Steve someone might know you care about her.” Bucky warns in an impersonation of the blonde man.

“Buck,” He groans, they stay quiet as you shift between them, your breathing evening out.

“No, what we did, not standing up for her. Was wrong. Fucking wrong.” Bucky almost yells at him.

“We can’t get in too deep.” Steve reminds him.

“As if we aren’t already.” Bucky scoffs.

Steve is about to say something when Bucky holds up a hand,

“Tell me, when was the last time you were ever truly happy?” Bucky questions.

Steve sighs, looking at you. Knowing Bucky’s answer to the question would involve your name as well.

“The night she decided she wants to watch a movie and cuddle. Then the day we decided to make it a weekly occurrence.” He admits.

Bucky traces a pattern over your cheek. He hates knowing what has to come next, their time with you limited.

Their time to call you theres approaching an end. Today he saw how you responded to being called theirs, he knows you might want more.

Steve sadly gazes at Bucky gazing at you. It’s on the tip of their tongue but they can’t say it. It would only have you be driven away.

The past eight months with you? A miracle no one found out what do you mean to them.

So they would hide behind the lie that they feel nothing for you. That the only time you invoke something within their hearts and minds is when you’re touching them.

Even when you’re the only person they could trust wholeheartedly.

Now.

Bucky howls seeing you staring right at them. The small window their only access to you.

Steve stares at Bucky, the dark chestnut brown fur gleaming under the moonlight.

Bucky looks back to the sandy blonde furred wolf. The two men ran the town with an iron fist and a bite. Their wolf form only known by foes who never lived to tell the story.

They had tracked you down, knowing something was amiss when your scent was lighter at your apartment and you left without saying anything. The whole thing reeked of what they always feared. Someone using you to get to them.

‘Can you see her plate?’ Bucky says a snarl building up in his throat.

‘She hasn’t touched her food.’ Steve recounts, gazing back at you worriedly.

You know they are watching, always knowing that there was probably something they never told you but as if it was said unspoken. You stare at the gleaming blue eyes. They pace the forest restless.

Maybe you are imagining things, your Steve and Bucky could not be, no. You groan for a fifth time. Clutching your stomach, three days without food, you know what is coming.

The blonde woman returns,

“We know you shared your bed with them on multiple occasions, we just would like to know about their business.”

“I do not have the answers for your questions.” You hiss as another sting of pain burns through you.

“I can get you antibiotics for the infection, when did you meet them?” She attempts again.

‘Steve, we need to move in.’ Bucky calls out as he rounds the perimeter.

‘They’re still asking questions and offering medical aid in exchange.’ Steve glowers, he pauses as a car enters the driveway to the manor.

‘Fuckers, this is why we attack.’ Bucky presses his paws deeper into into the mud.

John Walker enters your cell twenty minutes after the blonde woman leaves, time a luxury they offered to you. So you know how long it has been since your men have not brought the sun and moon together to save you.

Nine days and counting.

“Ah, sweetheart, look at you. If you would have come along with me you would not be sick today.” John runs a hand down the back of your hair stopping you from flinching away. He tugs harshly.

“What no sound? They told me you were being quiet. Well but your best friend she, she is very chatty when drunk, spilled all about your little hook ups with Barnes and Rogers. What they even see in you I do not know. Although leaving you in pieces for them to find will be worth the fucking you receive.” His thumb brushes harshly across your mouth, your arms ache at the restraints.

“Then they’ll understand not to fucking mess up my deals and my work, consider yourself more worthy of a status than a fuck toy.”

John forces his thumb into your mouth, you bite down on it tasting blood. He screams pulling away, when he moves to bring down his hand against your cheek; you spit at him.

“You fucking whore.”

‘Steve.’ Bucky warns, not for himself but for the fact that he will not wait to act.

“I’m calling Nat and Sam for back up.” Steve shoots of the messages phasing back into his wolf form.

They charge at the guards on the west end, the doorway closest to get to you.

Phasing in and out to access the doors and take out John’s men.

The clouds clear illuminating your holding cell. You gaze up at the moon as she looks down upon you in blessing. John has you pinned down, his hands trying to pry your legs apart.

“Fuck you.” You spit at him, John looks up as you blink. Your eyes changing shape.

“The fuck?” John gapes, as you convulse the restraints breaking as you phase into your wolf form, towering over his now covering form.

You grin at him, teeth bared. He clambers on his hands and knees towards the door you sink your teeth into his limb dragging him backwards.

He drags his gun out of the holster, holding it up at your snout. You growl as he drops it down. Your paw sinks into his arm marring his flesh.

Ripping off his limbs as his pained screams echo through the cell.

Your wolf takes over, the primal darkness you kept suppressed with herbs and holistic remedies finally freed from shackles and it want to run wild.

The door bursts open two other wolves come snarling in, you pant dropping John’s head from your mouth it rolls down and settles near the dark chestnut wolf’s paw.

Bucky and Steve search for you as they stumble in, pausing when your scent hits them. They stare blankly at your wolf form.

You gape at them, backing away paces then you realise why are their scents so familiar.

They both phase out together,

“Petal.” “Poppet.”

You see their skin littered with pink jags and healing wounds, they came for you?

“You’re a wolf?” Bucky keeps his hands raised so as to not startle you. He understood you may have phased in after a long time.

“I think clearly she is, Bucky.” Steve rolls his eyes.

“i’m trying to be gentle.” He says, you then want to joke that nothing about him is gentle. A sort of snort leaves you indicating your laughter.

“I think she knows you aren’t gentle.” Steve interprets.

“We’ll lead you out, there is a cabin nearby, you may take time to calm down before you can phase out and we have our clothes there so the scents should be comfortable to tolerate.” Bucky comes closer and his hand gently touches your nose, you press lightly against it.

They phase back, flanking your sides, as they lead you to their cabin, rightly so their scents are amplified and the comfort brought forth by it, almost moves you to tears.

Steve enters first, his nose pushes the revolving glass door as it opens wide enough to accommodate wolves, the wooden flooring is warm to the touch and ceilings are high. As if they designed it specifically.

‘Look here if you can hear me.’ Bucky’s voice calls to you.

‘Bucky why do you have to check—,’

‘I can hear you both…’ You cut Steve off.

‘Interesting.’ Bucky says,

‘No shit, but when were we having this discussion? or was it benched due to ‘by flesh and flesh only’?’ You don’t mean to sound rude but you’ve had a pathetic nine days.

‘It, well…’ Steve looks at Bucky, his eyes widen.

‘Oh so now I should lead difficult conversations?’ Bucky glares at Steve and you catch on.

‘That night at the dinner? You were going to break up with me.’ You accuse, both of them look away.

‘It was because, look it had been ten months if it goes on beyond a year we could have turned you on accident. We were already making slip ups by over staying on full moons.’ Steve tries to reason.

‘You, you would not have wanted us had you known.’ Bucky says, padding towards you.

‘Bullshit.’ You bare your teeth at him.

‘Cute.’ Bucky pokes your ear with his nose.

‘Is that not for me to decide?’ You attempt again, ‘I know you both don’t have feelings for me but you could have trusted me with this.’ You look between them, a whine slips past Steve.

‘Don’t have feelings for you? Please Petal tell me you don’t believe that lie.’ Steve implores you to answer.

‘Fuck, Poppet are, you thought we don’t love you? Every waking hour is for you.’ Bucky moves closer you back away.

Steve tries the same and you shift back more touching the wall sideways.

‘Why tell me now? Is it because I am a wolf too. Nine days ago you were going to leave me. Without ever letting me know the truth, maybe you should follow through with that, not because staying is now convenient to the two of you.’ You settle onto the floor, not looking at the two towering wolves who are silent.

‘Why did you not say anything either?’ Steve questions, demanding to know the reason for your silence.

‘I wanted to, I was at that dinner it had been a year almost close enough, but then that blonde woman laced the iPad in front of me, you both were preoccupied and wearing the ties I got you both. So I thought well, what good is any of it, if the two of you are fucking around so I’m just a fuck toy to you right? You were going to discard me for the next one so I’m making your job easier.’ You glance at both of them, Bucky looks at you as if he’s been wounded by your words.

‘Poppet…’ Bucky begs, ‘Please don’t, we can, we can think about this… Talk about this.’

‘I don’t want to, not anymore.’ You say, resting your head back onto your paws.

‘Alright then. We’ll check back up on you in a few hours, when you’re calm enough we can try phasing out.’ Steve moves away phasing into his human form and going up the stairs.

Bucky stays for moment before following suit.

You wake up panting, the feeling of unwanted hands on you pushing you into wakefulness. You gaze down, still in your wolf form.

The click of a door perks your ears as you follow the sound of footsteps on the upper floor.

“Nightmares, Steve, you know how horrible those are.” Bucky’s voice is muffled as though something dampening it.

“Talk softer.” Steve huffs, and their voices are further diluted.

You lay back down, hoping the next bout of sleep is dreamless.

When you wake up next, you’re laying upon soft sheets. You let out a contented sigh, then jolt awake.

“Welcome back to the human side of things, Poppet.” Bucky’s smooth voice washes over you calming your nerves.

At his words you touch your skin, your fur replaced by skin and bone.

“I am very upset with you, Poppet.” He adds, cutting an apple into thin slices. The black knife gleams in the light as he feeds himself the slice.

When he licks his pink lips, your tongue mimics the motion on your own.

“Why?” You look around for Steve, Bucky chuckles.

“Look at you pretending you don’t know why am I upset with you and here I thought, you know me like the back of your hand.” Bucky tuts, the knife cuts into the apple further, he gets up from the chair.

Bucky walks towards you, the slice supported between his thumb and knife. He places the slice against your lips. You lock eyes with him as you eat the slice, the blade feels cold against your lips.

He places the tip of the knife under your chin,

“Can smell your sweet cunt getting hungry for me, Poppet.”

“Bucky—,” He places the flat side of the blade to your lips.

“Shh. Did I allow you to speak? I think you spoke enough earlier.” The blade now trails from your temple to jaw and back to your chin.

The knife is retracted, now being used for its original purpose; the apple. You swallow thickly before eating the second slice offered to you.

He now sits next to you, a determined expression takes over his features.

The apple eaten and discarded.

You move the comforter to make more space for him. Your legs exposed and some how the shirt you were wearing smelled of both of them; cedar, patchouli, amber and oud.

Bucky places his warm hand on your thigh.

“Did you mean it?” He softly massages the flesh that has borne his marks award in pleasure.

“Wha-what?” You look up from where his hand is, his gaze darkens.

“You know, the part where you said you don’t want to be with us anymore.” Bucky continues upward movements, pleased when on instinct your legs part further for him as he inches closer to your cunt.

“I—,” The words caught in your throat when he traces your folds, gathering your slick, and then pinching your clit. You gasp, biting your lip.

“Did you mean it, Poppet?” Bucky questions again, you can’t focus on answering him not when his finger eases by one knuckle into your cunt.

“Bucky,” Your hand grasps his the other stays fisted with the sheet.

“Answer me. Did you mean those words you spat at us? At me?” Bucky takes your hand, you’re on your back both your hands in one of his, pinned down.

His fingers pumping in and out of you squelching sounds filling the room.

As his fingers brush over the spot as they curve inside you, you arch up against him.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky,” You chant as you feel the build of your orgasm. Your cunt clenching around his fingers every time he retracts them.

Bucky smirks, watching you, your eyes closed head thrown back and hips meeting each thrust of his fingers.

Just when you can feel the tendrils of your orgasm he stops, the squelch of his fingers leaving the warmth of your cunt have your eyes snap open.

“Just making your job easy.” He teases.

“Bucky please,” You beg.

“Oh Poppet you think I can leave that cunt without cumming?” He pinches your clit again, his jeans undone and cock leaking with pre-cum.

“Stand up, hands against the wall. Shirt off.” He orders, as you comply, he shifts your legs to not be apart, only a small distance.

Bucky stands behind you, easing his cock from between your thighs over your folds, the mirror on the wall showing you how your slick coats his cock.

You only seldom feel the veiny ridges move over your clit as he fucks your thighs. Hands gripping your waist and he watches your tits bounce with each thrust.

“Every inch of your skin, so fucking beautiful, so fuckable, clench your thighs for me, Poppet.” Bucky moans in response as your thighs tighten, your slick creating enough lubrication for him to continue his movements, Bucky’s arm comes down against your ass, a hard spank, you yelp, bending forward and the vein on his cock moves against your clit.

“Gonna cum for me? Gonna be a good little girl? Hmm? Want me to fuck every inch of you right? Look at you wanting to be filled to the hilt be split apart on my cock.” Bucky whispers in your ear.

On the next spank you feel the same ridge, your body complying as pleasure begins to course through you, his hands grab your breasts, tugging and pulling the flesh, watching as your face begins to contort into pleasure.

Bucky knows you won’t last long so he stops and you whimper at the loss of contact he turns you around. Your back against the wall. His hand circles around your throat.

Your eyes sting with tears, as he squeezes just enough.

“Making your job easy aren’t I? Just use your fucking fingers.” Bucky glowers, his cock tucked back into his boxers and he zips his jeans.

His chest gleams with sweat, you want to have your mouth on him. Worshipping him.

Bucky leaves closing the door before you can follow him out. You wait by the door for a few minutes, trying to open it but find that it is locked.

“Bucky? Why is the door locked?” You bang on the door.

“James? What is going on? Can we please talk?” You tug on the doorknobs, it only rattles in its frame.

The sudden coldness of the room gets to you, you scramble to find your shirt but return to stand near the door, trying to pry it open.

“Steve?” You call out, but are greeted with silence. You slide down your back against the door, the slick feels uncomfortable, you pull your knees to your chest.

Did you really hurt them that much? You were hurt as well, if you weren’t who you were nor if the kidnapping happened the dinner would have resulted in your heart being broken.

You rest your head on your knees, closing your eyes as a few tears brim over. They would have just left you, even if they held love for you.

After how long you don’t know, the door clicks open. You look up at the figure entering—Steve.

You stand up quickly wrapping your arms around him, he too was without a shirt and low waisted jeans graced his hips. Steve wraps his arms around you.

“Whats wrong, Petal?” Steve softly questions pulling away to look at you.

“Bucky, he,” you gaze at the door, finding it shut.

“What did he do, Petal?” Steve cups your cheeks,

“He said he’s upset with me, for saying what I did…” You trail off, fingers tugging on the white shirt’s sleeve nervously.

“Well that was upsetting.” Steve lets go of your face, sitting on the arm chair.

“You both were going to leave me.” You say,

“Things changed that night did they not?” Steve counter questions.

You fumble for an answer.

Steve pats his thigh, your limbs carry you to him, “What did Bucky do hmm?”

“He—,” “Ah, ah, show me.”

“But he used his—,” “Use me to show what he did to you.” Steve orders, you frown as his command washes over you.

You grab his hand, his index and middle fingers extended as you lead them to your eager cunt.

Steve taps your clit, “Is this what Bucky did?” You shake your head no.

“Pinched it—ah.” Your thighs shake as Steve pinches your clit, somehow repeating the movements Bucky did on you, you find yourself fucking onto his fingers.

Steve’s eyes darken. “Petal, don’t you want me to taste you?” He asks, you look at him,

“But Steve—,”

“Do you not want to apologise?” Steve chides.

You move back, thinking he wants to kneel.

“Oh no, gather it on your fingers and feed me. Till I tell you to stop.” Steve, watches your hand twitch.

You slowly bring your fingers over your folds, wincing at the puffiness from what Bucky did, the wetness that pooled you gather onto your fingers, bringing them toward’s Steve’s lips.

His warm mouth covers your fingers, sucking on them and his tongue almost mimicking the patterns he makes on your clit against your fingers, his mouth pulls away with a wet plop.

“More.”

Your clit pulses, you circle your clit and tug on your nipples to get yourself wetter, repeating the action from earlier.

Three times you’ve fed him your slick, Steve hums, then clicks his tongue, “I want more, make yourself cum and then feed me, will you Petal? You can do that right? Since you can make informed decisions.” Steves tone is slightly mocking, but the prospect of being able to orgasm too delicious to deny, you rest one hand on his shoulder, the other circles your clit and you sink two fingers inside of you, frustration clouds you.

Your fingers no where close to Steve of Bucky’s thick and long ones.

“Whats wrong Petal?” Steve looks up in concern.

“Doesn’t feel as good…” You admit.

“Do you want Bucky to come help?” Steve brushes his thumb just over your pubic bone watching your stomach clench at the contact.

“Will he?” You ask, wondering if he wanted anything to do with you.

“Why won’t you use your fingers?” You add.

Steve smiles, “I want to be fed, I’m tired, Petal.”

You bite your lip, “Where, where is Bucky?”

“I think if you call out to him, he’d come.”

“He ignored me earlier.” You huff.

“He was just upset, sweetheart.” Steve tells you as if your a child needing to be explained.

“Bucky?” You say, then move closer to the door,

“Petal, keep getting yourself wet.” Steve calls out an afterthought.

You place two fingers against your clit as your other hand opens the door.

“B-bucky?” Your voice shakes as your clit sends waves of ebbing pleasure through you.

“What?” He calls out from the door opposite to your room, his eyes paise on your hand.

“Steve he,” You bite down on your lip as you notices the tent in his jeans.

“I don’t have all night, Poppet.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“He-he wants to be fed after I cum and, and my fingers—,”

“Don’t feel as good?” Bucky completes, uncrossing the arms across his chest, walking towards you, you moan as he grabs your pussy. Digits guiding yours on how to move.

He wants you back as the steps make you grind over the callous on his index finger.

Steve watches a smirk on his face, they find it so endearing how you fail to realise this is punishment for misbehaving and lying to them.

A cacophony of moans of their names begin to slip past your lips. Your orgasm builds.

Bucky looks at Steve, they both know they’ve edged you enough that you will cum, but they can’t have that.

“Stop, I’m not that hungry,” Steve’s words are like cold water to your fiery veins.

Bucky stops fucking you with his fingers, holding them up for you.

You have a whine caught in your throat.

“Can’t have any of this wasted right?” Bucky chides, “Go on Poppet feed him.”

You whimper as he pushes you forwards.

Steve places a steady hand on your hips, as he waits for you to do what you’re told; he spreads his large hand over your hip, trailing it upwards, over the soft flesh of your stomach, moving upwards then cupping your breast, Bucky does the same to your left.

“I’m waiting, Petal.” Steve reminds you, breaking out of the heady trance they have you in, you rub your fingers over your folds, a needy whimper reaches the pleased ears of Steve and Bucky.

You offer your fingers to Steve, he hums before sucking on each digit and swirling his tongue around them.

He releases your fingers and they release your breasts in tandem. Standing up, walking towards the door leaving you in the room.

You follow them quicker than previous attempts.

“Why are you—,”

“No, Petal, why are you saying no? Over a conversation that could have gone so many different ways?” Steve cuts you off.

“She was making our job easier.” Bucky sneers.

“You both were going to anyways, and those videos and pictures…” You recount.

“Were old, Poppet, we haven’t been with anyone other than you. We don’t want to either.” Bucky cups your cheek.

“But you want to leave us… So maybe you should.” Steve shrugs nonchalantly.

Bucky drops his hand,

“Too bad we couldn’t give you what you want, maybe someone else will. You know best correct?”

Your clit pulses, you know no one will compare to the two of them, no two people could hold a semblance to their beings.

But they were right, if you wanted to leave you should.

Maybe they don’t want to fight harder to have you stay… you nod meekly.

“I’ll leave then…” You mutter.

“Fucks sake.” Bucky mutters as Steve, has you pinned down on the bed.

“Know what Petal,” Steve undoes his jeans, his cock slapping against his abdomen, and lining up with your aching cunt,

“I really do not think you know what is best for you.” He moves his cock over your folds.

“Steve,” You whine, needing more.

“Oh you want my cock? Well, only good girls who want to stay will get it.” His eyes are wild, your breath caught in your throat, he adds more pressure to the grip he hands on your hands.

You gasp, as his tip teases your entrance.

“Steve, please,” You beg, needy, tears brim over at how badly you need them.

“What do you want?” He questions, repeating his teasing movements.

Bucky stands at the edge of the bed, you stare at his cock, lips parting for it.

“Answer him, Poppet, or have you forgotten the manners we taught you?” A sting resounds in the room and pleasured pain courses through you from where Bucky slapped your puffy, aching cunt.

“Would you look at that? She wants us Bucky.”

“She will have to say it though, has to vocalise what she wants and needs.” Bucky grasps your jaw, “The question is will she?”

You stare into Bucky’s eyes, he delivers another slap to your pussy, you clench around Steve’s tip. A moan slips past your lips, you can’t think, can’t speak just need them, why could they not see that?

“Answer us, Poppet, or we can leave again.” He warns.

“Want, want you both, together.” You gasp the words out as Steve bottoms out inside you, hissing as he feels you tight around him.

“Fuck,” He breathes.

“Together Steve,” Bucky reminds, pulling you up as you and Steve kneel on the bed, with him curving inside you the tip of him pushing ever so often over your gspot.

Bucky moves behind you, kneeling as well, his fingers inserted next to Steve’s cock prepping you to take them both. You can’t help the sob of pleasure that breaks from you as Bucky begins to enter you as well, the stretch burns but feels so good.

“Oh, you can take us can’t you, Petal?” Steve’s words have you preen, “Our good girl aren’t you?”

“Feel at her clench, really, our girl, only ours.” Bucky whispers over the shell of your ear.

You moan at their words, they pause allowing you time to adjust to both of them, but you don’t have it in you to be patient, you need them to fuck you, claim you.

You begin to move over their cocks, the amount of wetness helping you. Bucky and Steve glance at each other, moaning as you feel so good around their cocks, using them for your pleasure.

Both men let you set the pace, then one hand each grasps your waist. They both begin to move in tandem, filling you up then moving outward. Moans and whimpers slip out of you, Steve swallows them all down against his lips, Bucky’s lips leave bites and marks over your shoulder and neck.

You begin to meet them with each thrust, knowing all of you are close.

“Fill me up, please, mark, mark and cl-claim,” You gasp as they both some how coordinate their thrusts to keep hitting the spot that has you seeing stars and the waves of pleasure begin to climb across you, waiting to meet the brink to tip you over.

“Going to mark you and keep you as ours, Poppet.” Bucky grunts.

“You belong to us.”

“Bound to us.”

Your orgasm drawing close.

“You’re going to cum for us and take our seed, milk our cocks and stay filled.”

You fall apart at their words, pleasure coursing through you, head to toe and you cum with a silent cry. You feel their cum coating your spasming walls, their movements now sloppier as they ride out their orgasms.

“Because you’re bound to us, little wolf, flesh and flesh only.” Steves voice echos over the ringing in your ears.

“And that heart of yours?” Bucky’s chuckle resounds,

“That flesh belongs to us as well.”

-x-x-x-

A.N: images in the banner are taken from pintrest all credits are to the makers of the edits and image owners.

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lokislastlove · 2 years

Note

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.”

#monkey’s paw challenge #boxofbonesfic #dark fic

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thatdarkfanficstuff · 2 years

Note

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.

#challenge me #boxofbonesfic #monkey paw challenge #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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navybrat817 · 1 year

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Congratulations on 10k!! You’re very talented and I can’t try and you enough for your writing <33

Hi, lovely! Is this meant for @boxofbonesfic ? She is insanely talented and an awesome person. She deserves 10k and more!

Love and thanks! ❤️

#navybrat answers #blog love #boxofbonesfic #adoreyouusugar #sending love ❤️#asks are always appreciated

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avintagekiss24 · 2 years

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Modern!Au! Home from college for the summer, you’re excited to reconnect with some of your childhood friends. Maisie’s dad’s the Sheriff, but he’s always turned a rather blind eye to your rag-tag group’s childish exploits. Coming home is as sweet as you remember, and Sheriff Bodecker is just as warm and welcoming as ever…

😈

I loved this prompt so much!! Thanks Bones, congrats on 7k!!

#asks #answered #boxofbonesfic

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boxofbonesfic · 7 months

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Title: Monster

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Orc!Bucky x Sacrifice!Reader

Kink: Teratophilia (Monsterfucking)

Summary: You draw the devil’s coin in the village lottery, you will buy another season of peace for your people—but you don’t want peace.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Monsterfucking, References to past violence, References to past murder, Witch Burning, Forced Marriage, Dubious Consent, Violence, Revenge, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Darkfic, Dark Fanfiction

A/N: as a note, this story does NOT share a universe with my other Orc story, Brave. this is another version of Orc!Bucky that i cooked up for kinktober. speaking of which, i hope you all enjoy the first installment of my 2023 kinktober ficlets and drabbles! mind the warnings, and enjoy!

Your wedding day dawns bleak and cold. The snows have come early this year, snuffing out the brief, brittle green of summer with icy finality, blanketing the hills in thick layers of white.

Your death day.

“Up with you.” You aren’t asleep, but Thera rips the blanket from you anyway. “Come. It’s time you prepare for your... husband.” There is no pity anywhere on her wrinkled face as she grimaces at you, her eyes dark with disgust. “Witch.” She mutters the last part like a curse you aren’t meant to hear. You do, though, and you bare your teeth at Thera like an animal in response. You are satisfied when fear settles over her features, her rheumy eyes widening.

“If I were a witch,” you hiss, “You would not stand whole before me, Thera Truthspeaker.” This time it is her name that burns in the ear like acid. “You would lay at my feet in pieces.”

She slaps you for the threat, and you taste blood in your mouth as your head jerks painfully. Thera grasps your chin, and you turn dazed eyes toward the old priestess.

“You speak with as foul a tongue as your mother,” she spits.

“Pity you couldn’t burn mine out of me like you did her.” At this, she looks regretful, cutting her eyes at you angrily.

“Lucky for you Demon King likes his brides whole.” She squeezes until you grunt with pain. “And unspoiled.” She tosses your head to the side before standing away from your cot before brushing her hands down her long, thick robes as though wiping your taint from them. “Save your venom, little snake. It is by my grace you were not put to the torch two seasons ago with your witch mother.”

You almost wish they had, instead of forcing the scarred coin into your hand. At least you can serve the light like this, the priest had said, his grim face illuminated by the firelight. You have not forgotten the way your mother’s body burned bright, her head turned heavenward, her mouth open in silent scream as the flames leapt from her blackened lips.

At least you can serve some good when he comes.

Despite her age, Thera’s grip is strong as she forces you up out of the narrow cot. The stone floor of the chapel is like ice on your bare feet as you stumble after her. There is an old metal basin in the chapel’s meager kitchen, and Thera instructs you to strip before ushering you into the steaming water. You hiss at the burn, but it’s the warmest you’ve been in weeks. Months, more-like. She scrubs your skin raw with rough fingers, and tears through your hair with the comb until your scalp stings. When you wince, Thera cracks her open palm against the back of your skull.

“Be still!” Your ears ring from the force of her blow. “This is an honor—a great privilege you have been afforded, though you are tainted and unworthy.”

The laugh that bubbles from your chest is bitter. “This is not your pulpit, Truthspeaker, and I am not your sheep.”

Thera paints the symbols for fertility and prosperity on your damp shoulders in perfumed oil before rubbing them into your skin. She combs the oil through your hair, too, braiding gold thread into it as she pins it up away from your face. As she is closing the bridal robe around your shoulders, the door flies open.

The priest practically falls through it, his face shining with sweat despite the temperature. The charcoal around his wide, fear-bright eyes runs dark on his pale skin, like dark tears tracking down his gaunt cheeks. His terror is catching, your own heart pounding against your ribs.

“He comes! The Demon King comes! He rides for the village!” Thera glances at you, her thin lips curving into a cruel smile.

“And his bride waits.”

—

You have seen a bride taken, once. You were young, six seasons, perhaps? Seven? You saw the Demon King ride away with her, her long, black veil whipping behind her in the icy wind.

Mother had told you not to go, not to watch—It’s barbaric, my love, we needn’t take part—but you couldn’t help yourself. She is lucky, she is blessed, the townspeople murmured amongst themselves as they watched her go. Chosen. She’d drawn the coin from the bag, the same pitted, pocked metal that the priest had forced into your trembling hands as you’d watched your mother burn.

Life for life.

The rope bites into your wrists as you tug uselessly at your bindings. Your breath leaves your lips in frantic clouds of white as you pull and pull. Your only victory is the creak of the rope as it tightens. Your teeth chatter as you stare into the fog. It rolls out between the trunks of the bare trees like tendrils, creeping along the snow-covered ground until it fills the air, obscuring light and sound until all around you is dim as twilight.

“Your bride awaits you,” the priest’s muffled voice trembles. “Take her and honor our agreement, as it has been, and as it shall be.”

For a long time there is no answer from the thick, swirling fog. You count each second, your aching arms stretched above you, the rough wood of the post digging into your back through your cloak. The cold eats away at your bones as you shiver. It’s not snowing any more, but the loose drift blows up into your face as the wind rips at you. The priest’s voice trembles as he begins again.

“Take her and honor our—”

“Silence.”

The voice vibrates powerfully in your very marrow, in your head and all around. He is near. You can barely see a foot in front of you, and now you are glad for it, glad you cannot see the face of your death. The mist swells, roiling angrily around you as your skin prickles with his closeness. You know not what the Dark King looks like, but you know what you have heard murmured in the dark corners of ale-soaked taverns and in the pews of every chapel of the Holy Light—he is darkness, he is devil made flesh and set upon the children of light so that they might know fear.

That the price of flesh paid by your people is all that keeps him from loosing his terrible fury upon the valley—

But you do not yet know you believe.

You are afraid, that much you can tell from the thundering of your heart and the staccato sound of your own breath. You cannot see him, but you know he circles you, like a wolf, just behind the curtain of smoke and mist. The silence is deafening, and for a moment you wonder grimly what the Truthspeakers will do with you if the Devil himself does not take you—

“I accept this offering.”

He steps sideways out of nowhere, the air simply parting like a curtain to reveal him. The Orc regards you silently, watching your breath cloud the air and disappear. He reaches for you and you flinch, but he doesn’t touch you. Instead, he pulls at the ropes. The priest knotted them tightly around the post, but when the Orc pulls lightly, it comes away easily, as if undone by his touch.

His face is more human than you expected, fierce blue eyes set above chiseled cheekbones. His tusks poke out from beneath his bottom lip, but only barely, more evident as he grimaces. You wonder if he is displeased with you, as he looks you over, and you flinch when he reaches out with one massive, gloved hand. He grasps your chin firmly, turning your head this way and that before sighing.

“Come.”

This time, his voice does not echo through the clearing as if spoken by a dozen men. He reaches for you again, this time drawing the dark veil down over your face. His horse is as large and dark as he is, and the great beast paws the ground as you near, and you see your own fearful face reflected in its strange red eyes. He chuckles at your reluctance.

“Afraid, little bride?”

You are. Truly afraid. Of him. Of the village. Of the way forward, wherever it led. But you would not be like Thera, like the cowering priests in their chapel. Your fear would not rule you.

You grasp the reins and fit a foot into the stirrup.

“I am afraid.” Swinging your leg up, you climb into the saddle. “And I am more than fear.” He smiles, the sharp, white points of his teeth gleaming as his lips part.

“Good.” He steps up behind you, and your face flushes with heat as he fits you against his front.

“What are you called?” He hesitates, and you wonder whether or not he will tell you the truth.

“James.”

—

The sun is low in the sky by the time you see the encampment, nestled in the dark, snowy hills like a glowing ember. You tense as you see it, going rigid in the saddle.

“I did not know you came to collect your bride price with an army.” You reply, and behind you James chuckles.

“How else would I make sure it was paid?”

You feel small and alone as you ride into camp, your veil still pulled low over your eyes. The sounds of music and conversation die as the king approaches, the garrison watching with curious apprehension. The pack parts for you, people stepping away from James’ horse with a respectful bow. He is King here, of that there could be no doubt. A great fire blazes at the heart off the encampment, and James rides close enough to feel its heat before dismounting. He holds out his hand to you with a thin smile.

“Come, little wife. Lay aside your fear and let us know your fate.” You return his grim smile with one of your own.

I suppose I always knew it would end in fire.

You take his hand, and James helps you down. For a moment, there is no sound other than the roar of the flames and the shrill whistle of the icy wind.

“She is small.” The voice is heavy with age, and rife with irritation. “It will not be her.” You turn to see the stooped Orc step out from the crowd of onlookers. She leans heavily on the staff she carries, the top adorned with an assortment of feathers and tiny, white bones. James does not look away from you.

“The fire will tell.”

He pushes your bridal robe from your shoulders, undoing the tie around your waist. The cloth falls to the ground, leaving you naked. You are not cold, though, not this close to the fire. The veil he leaves on, and the fabric whispers against your bare ankles. The old Orc hobbles closer, peering at you with her one good eye.

“You know what to do.”

You do—you step into the fire. It burns—burns hotter than anything you have ever known—

But there is no pain. You open your eyes. All around you is light, beautiful, glorious light. You lift an arm, and flames dance along your skin, leaving trails of radiant heat. You raise your arms above your head with a shout. They should have burnt me in the village. You imagine the streets burning bright with your flames.

Something is changed in you, something opened, something broken free, something you’d never even known was caged inside you. You are the fire, it is you—

The old Orc slams the staff against the ground with a sound like thunder, and the flames cool to embers as you drop your arms, panting. You are giddy with power, your heart beating in your chest as fiercely as the flames.

“Fire-sign.” She draws symbols on your face in red ichor, and matching ones on James. Her scarred mouth twists into a smile as she pulls the veil from you. “Burn brightly.”

James gathers you in his arms, lifting you with ease. He makes for one of the tents, pushing aside the heavy canvas hanging over the opening. James spills you unceremoniously onto the furs by the small fire, ripping at his clothes as he sets upon you with his hungry hands and mouth.

“Knew it would be you,” he mumbles as he lowers his mouth to yours. “Could smell the smoke on your skin.”

Gods you burn as he kisses you. You are no longer standing in the fire but you feel it in your veins still, like it’s part of you. Your head swims as though you’d drunk your share of mead, James’ touch only adding to the dizzying rush of sensation. He kneels down between your legs, his eyes dark as he drags them down your writhing body. He licks his lips.

“My fire-sign.” He cups your cunt with one massive hand, trailing a thick finger along your slit. From the bits of hushed gossip you’d overheard from the older women in the village, wifely duties were to be penitently endured, you were to feel pain and discomfort, not this, this—

Fire.

James parts your thighs until they are wide enough to accommodate him, and he bends low. The whites of his eyes barely visible as he stares at your slick center.

“What better wedding gift?” He says lowly, tugging your hips roughly forward until you can feel his breath on your cunt.

You lick your lips. “And what is mine?” You ask, and James laughs. You keen as he licks a long, hot stripe up your soaked slit.

“What would you ask of me?”

“Burn the village.” There are two voices coming from your throat when you speak. There is you, the you you know, the you you have always been—

And there is the fire.

The thing of smoke and passion and rage in your skin now, too.

“Leave nothing standing.”

James lowers his head to your sticky core, and wraps his arms around your thighs anchoring you to his face as he feasts. His tongue slides hungrily through your slick folds, and your eyes fly open a your hips roll of their own accord. You come apart then, shuddering and whining, but he doesn’t stop. Your hands tangle in his dark hair, pulling at his ceremonial braids as he tastes you till you’re dizzy. James finally relinquishes his hold, and when he rises his chin is wet with your pleasure.

“You wish me to wage war, little wife?” He asks, reaching between your bodies to palm his cock. You can’t look away. “To spend fire and blood for you?”

You nod.

“For that, I will require more than a marriage of convenience,” he replies, and you shiver as he taps the head of his cock against you with a slick, sticky noise. You whimper as he circles one of your nipples with his thumb. “I want more than just your body, understand, little bride?” His hand spans half the length of your belly it’s so big, and you stare wide eyed down at his cock.

“I will have all of you.” James growls down at you. “Not part.” You whine as he pushes against you, the blunt head of his cock pressing inside with a pop. Your lips fall open, a strangled moan escaping them. James’ claws dig into your hip, and he utters a curse. You’re already so full of him, you don’t know how more can fit, but James works his hips against yours, rutting shamelessly against you until you swear you’re choking on him.

The ache is so sweet it brings tears to your eyes.

“Y-yes!”

He draws out, leaving you almost empty before filling you with a hard thrust. James moans low in his throat, his head falling back. He cups your face with one hand, dragging his thumb across your lips. You rake your fingers over his muscled chest and he grits his teeth, driving into you harder, curling over you as he presses your knees against your chest.

Your breaths escape you in choked little mewls, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he drowns you in pleasure again, and the fire in your veins swells, consuming you. Behind him, the fire blazes more brightly than ever before, and James looses a low growl, his cock pulsing inside of you.

“Then you will have war, little queen,” he says, nosing down the side of your jaw. He nips at your throat, hard enough to bruise.

You smile.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fandom #boxofbonesfic #boxofbones #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober week 1

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