Can’t Let The Plushies See The Absolute Filth Ari Inflicted On Her 🫣 And I’m Glad You Liked It

His suffering is definitely coming, don’t worry about it

I Wanna Be Yours❦

Part 1: Snap out of it

Part 2: Arabella - Coming soon

One stop off of heaven masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angst, infidelity, reader is the side piece, hurt, brief mentions of childhood friend!Bucky, no happy ending (sort of), reader is used, no aftercare, all hurt no comfort, p in v, rough sex, hate sex, doggy style, hair pulling, slapping, biting, allusions to reader being infertile (can be ignored :))

Nicknames: My girl, whore, slut, Sweetheart, buttercup

WC: 4K

The Happier version: My Girl -Coming soon

A/N: This is the angstier version of the fic ‘My Girl’ and is the actually original version of the fic and more truly embodies what I was feeling when writing them both.

A/N: Ive been gone for a really long time (like almost 3 months) and I’m really sorry I’ve been extremely busy, because as a lot of you know I’m doing a PhD right now. Anyway, this is part of a series that I’ll hopefully finish when I’m not so busy. I also have a few requests to finish. Love y’all 💕

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🎀༺

You both laid in the middle of the hotel bed, your head nuzzled into Bucky’s chest as you held him tight, taking in the smell of him like it was the last time you’d ever be able to. Your mind burned as you broke down every note of his scent; Magnolia, vanilla, leather and petrichor. You chanted it like a recipe in your head, begging yourself not to forget it. Just in case you ever had to recreate it when he was gone, it was inevitable after all—It was reality, this world you had both created in this room was no longer tangible. Someone was going to find out, or they had already—and to make him keep risking it, running around with you at night. It couldn’t continue, the thought of it ending made your throat tighten and a smell similar to pva glue fill your nose. It burnt as you blinked the tears back. Even as you squeezed him tighter, closer, it felt like he drifted further and further away; you could just feel it. He was distancing himself from you mentally and now physically, to make it more bearable for you both; so that he could lessen the pain, but little did he know the more he moved away the more it hurt, the more your heart shattered into tiny, little pieces that you’d inevitably be left alone to pick up. You wondered if you’d ever be able to repair your heart, or if it had shattered so much into such minuscule pieces that trying would be futile.

You had one final night with him and here you were, spending it cuddling him trying to suppress your tears. You didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes if you shattered, if you showed how much this little love affair truly meant to you. You loved putting up the tough, emotionless bitch act but you couldn’t. Not now. Not if it meant letting him go, never feeling his rough hands trace your every curve, never having him to kiss every scar, never being able to hear his deep, silky voice. You didn’t give a shit about the sex, no matter how mind blowing it was. You just wanted him to stay, you’d become celibate if it meant he’d stay. You’d do anything. But you weren’t “his girl” no matter how many times he whispered it to you softly or made you scream it as he fucked you. You just weren’t his. Not in the eyes of the law and not in the eyes of any of your guy’s friends. She was and you hated her for it, you hated the nice girl who brought you ‘Welcome home’ cookies, who comforted you when you were crying, despite not know you were mourning your chance with her husband, the sweet, beautiful, perfect girl that would one day give Bucky the sweet, beautiful, perfect family he’d always dreamed of. You hated that you hated her, it felt immoral, this all felt immoral. But she had what you wanted; him. She had him wrapped around her tiny, wicked…pretty, well manicured finger, it was wrong of you to force him into this—Bucky had always been weak to you and you used that against him. You made him cheat, but deep down you knew a part of him liked it. He was just like you after all, he was broken and a collector—but instead of things you both collected bits and pieces of others and saved them up inside you, it’s what made you both feel whole.

His arm that had been laying flat under your head shifted, he ran his fingers through your hair, rubbing slowly circles on your scalp, caressing the base of your skull with his warm palm. His touch was too much, you didn’t deserve it. That’s what broke you. The burning in your nose got too much; tears began to stream from your eyes like water from a broken faucet and the knot straining in your throat gave way to heavy sobs as you scrunched the material of his shirt in your fingers “What’s wrong sugar?” He asked indifferently, but you couldn’t answer. The embarrassment from letting your walls finally fall in front of him and the pity you had for yourself, that you detested, jammed your throat. You tried to open you mouth to speak, to tell him it was nothing or that you’d had an awful day at work, you’d always been quite sensitive, he knew that, so the excuse of being yelled at in front of everyone at work would probably work, but no matter how much you tried to summon the words you couldn’t speak. The frustration just made it worse, the warmth from your emotional outburst and his natural heat made it hard to breathe. You pushed away from him, finally distancing yourself. But the implications of your action just intensified your blubbering, you felt like a child as you collapsed in front of him.

Bucky pulled you closer even as you tried to fight him off. You kept your face hidden behind your hair, but he started to peel it away from your damp cheeks. “There we go I can see you now.” He let out a halfhearted nervous laugh, smiling. His smile. Your chest tightened painfully, even through your drowned vision, the full intensity of his welcoming smile hit you like a pile of bricks. “What’s wrong, sugar pea? You can tell me, it’s just us.”

“I can’t- can’t tell you”

“Why not? We’ve know each other since we were kids, you can tell me anything.”

“You’re gonna- you’re gonna hate me.”

“I could never hate you. I’ve seen do a bunch of things and I’ve never once hated you.”

“I’m in love with you.” You blurted, your hands scrambled to your mouth covering it in fear of more words spilling out unchecked. The room fell silent and you heard Bucky’s breathing stop short. You’d ruined everything. Your whole chest ached as your heart beat ramped up, slamming against your rib cage, your ears ringing as the precious Eden you’d created with him began to crumble and rot. Neither of you said a word for what felt like forever, then he slowly pushed you away from him and he rose from the bed slipping on his shoes. “Wait, no don’t leave please.”

“You just had to go ruin it didn’t you? It’s like your specialty.” He turned to you sweeping his hand through the air as he spoke “ Y/N professional ruiner.” He scoffed as he returned to tying his laces “I mean God! You had one job! And it was to lay there and not talk, but you just had to open your mouth.” Every single poisonous word that fell from his tongue knived you.

You held onto his back trying to pull him back into bed “No please, please don’t leave me!” You cried, hardening your grip as he tried to stand.

“You’re so pathetically lonely, you always have been.” Bucky pushed you into the bed, holding your hands above your head as he glared down at you “You’re just like a dog you know that? A creature that can’t survive without its master. That’s what you’ve made me isn’t it? Your master. Well I can’t be anymore, the little doggy needs to realise that she can’t keep forcing people to be in her life, dragging people into her misery!” As he berated you you sobbed, trying to turn away from his scrutinising, to cover your ears. He was right, you were dragging him down into your misery. You were pathetic. You were harming him and his life by existing. “You know what? How about, as a parting gift, we do it one final time? Give the bitch what she wants? Would that make you happy? Would it finally fill that gaping hole inside of you?”

You nodded tearfully, gnawing down on your bottom lip to stop sobbing. It didn’t stop anything. In fact it just made the helpless feeling inside you fester.

He began tearing your clothes off, tugging at your shirt harshly making it catch your ear as he yanked. You resisted the urge to yelp, you didn’t want to anger him further. He tossed it carelessly and gave you a light slap on your cheek before squeezing your face in the palm of his hand. “You’re so pretty when you cry.” He let out a dark chuckle as he scrunched your face “You are pathetic aren’t you? I can’t believe it took me this long to realise just how pathetic you truly are. You can take off your skirt can’t you?” You whine out a yes and start to undo your skirt, but your eyes are drawn to Bucky undressing above you. You watch the muscle under his slightly tanned skin stretching and tensing as he removes his clothes. Once he was nude he looked down at you expectantly, catching your wander gaze with a stern scowl “Why are you still wearing clothes? I just told you to take your skirt off. Do it.” You scrambled to unzip your skirt, fiddling with the zipper. Bucky tutted, grabbing the sides of the fabric and tearing it apart “Simple.”

More tears filled your eyes as he yanked off your panties. You closed your eyes and thought back to the other times you were together in different hotels, how gentle he was as he stroked the soft flesh of your thigh and nibbled at your skin, whispering promises and praise as he approached your core. He’d stretch and tease you till you begged him for more and even then he’d be so very careful as he entered, pressing his skin against yours as much as possible just to feel even closer to you.

A searing pain shot through your scalp, making your eye shoot open, as he pulled your hair wrapped around his strong vibranium fingers “Face down, ass in the air.”

“Aren’t you going to prep me first?” You asked sheepishly, your voice not going above a whisper.

“Why the fuck- No. Just do what I told you to do. I’m hard, I want to fuck you.” He scoffed, clearly tired with your constant hesitations and questions.

Hesitantly you sat up and presented yourself to him, hoovering your face above the pillows. He pushed your head down, your heart jumped, fear blooming in your chest; for a brief moment you thought he was going to suffocate you, the reminisce of his smell on the pillows filling your lungs. He released your head, you lifted your face from the pillow slightly “Stay down.” He ordered sternly, sounding bored as his dripping tip pressed against your entrance. You did as he said, lowering your cheek back down on the cheap fabric of the pillow case; you began fiddling with the cream coloured fitted sheet, rubbing the fabric between the tips of you fingers. Waiting. Then you felt him push into you, a searing, stretching pain tingling through every fibre of your being as his thick shaft parted your walls. You weren’t as wet as usual, you weren’t as ready as usual, you were afraid of him in this moment. More afraid than you’d ever been in your life. “Fucking tight. God no wonder I keep coming back to you, it’s this pussy. It’s like silk.” He sheathed fully inside of you, ramming his weeping tip against your cervix.

“Ow! Buck, slow. P-please.” You requested timidly, stuttering out the last part fearfully, feeling a sense of uneasiness churn your insides.

He guffawed in response, leaning his head down to rest against your arched spine. Warm puffs of air made your hairs stand on end as he laughed at your request. Finally he rose back up, swiping a tear from the corner of his eye “Last time I checked whores don’t have much of a say in how their clients fuck them. Lay there and look pretty, moan for me, scream for me, but for fucksake whatever you do just don’t talk. You’re driving me crazy.” He pulled out in one Swift motion before slamming himself back inside, relishing in the cry that left your lips “I’m gonna use your little slut hole and you’re gonna thank me for it aren't you?” His voice deepened as he asked, changing his pace from long and brutal to shallow and fast. When you didn’t answer he slapped your ass harshly and clawed at your back leaving painful, searing red streaks “I said. You’re going to thank me, aren’t you.”

You choked on your tears as you answered, managing to croak out a very quiet “yes, Bucky.” Before burying your face back into the pillow in embarrassment from the sound of how ruined your own voice sounded. You took a deep breath in, taking in the lingering scent of Bucky’s cologne. Magnolia, vanilla, leather and petrichor. You chanted the list of fragrances, hoping it would carry you away to a better time. But the sound of his grunting, the sound of his skin colliding with yours and the painful, heavy sadness weighing on your head was too much for you to think back to the past. You were trapped here, under him as he ruthlessly pounded into you.

You felt his once loving cool, metal hand snake around your throat squeezing tightly, you began to choke spit flying from your mouth onto the already tear dampened white pillows “The one good thing about you is you feel so much better than her and you let me do whatever I want to you. You let me choke you.” Bucky gave your throat two strong squeezes before removing his hand to allow you to breathe “she- ah squeezing again? God I’m gonna miss this tight cunt. She’s so vanilla, only missionary, no blowjobs and I practically have to beg her to let me eat her out. But you, you’re a little whore, you'll do anything as long as I pump you full of my cock.” As he finished talking Bucky slammed his hips into your ass, watching it jiggle at the force. He craned his neck down and bit the supple flesh, grinding his teeth and licking the mark before returning to his thrusts, slapping your ass just to hear you yelp. You squeezed him even tighter every time he slapped your ass and with each moan and cry your voice sounded more and more ruined, you hated that even when he was treating you like dirt your body responded to him and he could draw this much pleasure from you.

The gradual heat that had been rising within you was becoming unbearable and the moans you have been trying to silence we’re now impossible to silence “That’s it. Scream for me.” A deep, guttural moan escaped from his open mouth, his hand on your hip growing stronger, to the point that you could feel bruises sprouting “Fuck. So close. So goddamn close, I need you to milk me with you tight hole.” Bucky’s metal hand moved away from you head and slipped underneath you, gathering your slick and fiddling with your clit with his thumb.

“Ahh! So good! So good, Buck!” His hand that was holding your hips buried itself in your hair before he yanked it at. You screamed in response to the burning in your scalp

“I said no talking you fucking whore!” You sniffled in response, feeling your release draw nearer. You pushed back against him choking out a moan as you came on his cock, your walls pulsing and squeezing around his twitching length. Bucky rammed into you a few more time with uncoordinated thrust, believing out a loud “Fuck!” As he painted your walls white. A whimper crawled from your throat as he pulled out; you could feel his seed leaking out of you. Bucky flopped down on the bed next to you pulling a few tissues from the bedside table to clean himself. An awkward silence permeated through the room. Not once after having sex with Bucky did you feel dirty, but today you did. You felt an indescribable urge to get home and scrub yourself till your skin bleed to even hope to remove the icky, gross feeling spread across your skin.

Slowly you lifted your head from the pillow and carefully laid down on your back, wincing as you reddened bottom came in contact with the quilt. You laid there staring at ceiling, tears making your vision swim. Bucky’s rough hand entwined with yours; he squeezed your hand twice and swiped the pad of his thumb across your knuckles tenderly “She’s pregnant. I thought I should tell you. She's gonna give me that family I’d always dreamed of.” The words that were crawling up your throat died, you died. Your body went rigid at the word, pregnant. Of course she was pregnant. The word made you sick, it made you jealous, it made you a crucible of contempt boiling over a bunsen flame—you were going to explode. “We'll, aren't you going to say anything? I’ve been wanting this for a long time. I thought you’d at least be happy for me.”

“Congratulations.” The voice that came out didn’t sound like you, It sounded robotic, metallic and forced. But that was all you could manage, if you said anymore you might snap and strangle him or go kill her. You hated yourself for hating her. But it didn’t make the nagging belief in the back of your mind that it should have been you. That it was destined to be you. He was yours, you were his. It was meant to be you at the altar, meant to be you telling funny stories at your wedding about how you were childhood friends that went to high school and college together, who both had brewing feelings that you both kept suppressed and when you finally both got the courage to confess you had to move for work, but destiny made it so you would both reunite and jump at the chance to confess. It was meant to be you.

“Thanks.” His tone was bitter “ I can stay a bit longer, but I’ll have to leave soon. She’s waiting for me after all.” He cuddled you close, stroking your hair, probably imagining you were her. Had he imagined you were her this whole time? Was it that painful for him to fuck you?

The amount of thoughts racing in your head made you want to step outside into the chilly night air to cool down, but now was your final chance to be with him and you weren’t going to waste it. You ran you hands across the corded muscle of his back, drawing soothing circles just like he used to do for you when you couldn’t sleep. When sleep made your eyelids heavy you barely put up a fight, you welcomed sleep with open arms, you wanted to be freed from the bleak, harsh reality and enter into a dream world where she was you. Yeah that sounded good.

“Bucky?” You called groggily. There was no reply. You crawled over to his side of the bed, it was still warm, and peered over the edge. His shoes were gone and so were his clothes. You laid back on the bed, your eyes catching sight of a torn bit of paper. You grabbed the paper and unfolded it, your hands trembling as you read it ‘I don’t want to see you anymore, please don’t bother my family. - James’ You read the words over and over praying they would change into another message, but it didn’t work. It only made the pang in your chest throb. You scrunched it in your hand as you curled up into a ball trying to disappear as you soaked up the shadow of his body heat, the memories of him that were lingering in that shadow—high school when he sat with you behind the bleachers in the rain and gave you his varsity jacket to warm you up “I’m your portable heater at this point.” He jested, letting out his signature low husky laugh that made you melt, college when he held you from behind as you cried into your pillow about your college senior boyfriend who dumped you, because he was graduating; you could still feel the phantom of Bucky’s warmth whenever you were sad thanks to that day. The day he stroked your hair and whispered into your ear that “He didn’t deserve you.” And that he’d “never make you feel like this.” Well he had so many times, he was right now. But it hurt even more now, it was over for good. You’d lost him, you were too many years too late and now you were just clutching to fleeting memories, but God if the feelings didn’t sting every time you thought about him. It was hard not to, he’d dominated every significant moment of your life. But now you were barred from his perfect little family.

Slowly you unscrunched yourself from the ball you’d folded yourself into, spreading your body out like a starfish drying out on the beach. Your throat was scratchy from crying and your eyes were heavy and swollen. Everything hurt, but simultaneously you were so numb.

You thought of showering, you thought of searching through your bag for some pain meds, you thought of driving your car off the bridge back to the city. You thought a lot, as you laid there staring at the yellowed patches on the popcorn ceiling from water damage.

You thought so much and so hard that you didn’t even notice you’d started crying, again, you were drowning in your emotions. You were huddled in a lifeboat slowly filling with water, with no sight of land. You were waiting for him to save you, but he wasn’t coming back “I wanna be yours. Just wanna be…”

A disembodied voice continued “Yours. Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought.” The sweet sound of the man’s singing stops “I thought we were gonna sing together, sweetheart.” There was a soft knocking on the wall next to your head “No more crying okay? Guy was a dick anyway.”

“Who are you?” You questioned, sitting up and pressing your ear against the paper thin wall

“A person who’s also been left out to dry, a person who also needs someone to stop me from drowning. If you want some comfort I can come over; we can just lay here, Y/N.” The way he said your name brought back so many memories, you knew who he was

“Ari?” You asked hesitantly, the man who Bucky said didn’t deserve you all the way back in college was on the other side of the wall. He’d listened to everything. You wanted to evaporate.

The door knob of your room jiggled and then the door creaked open. In the doorway was Ari, droplets of rain trickling down his skin. He dipped his head down so he didn’t hit it as he entered your room, his brown hair was a bit longer than it was in college, his beard a bit fuller, he was much more muscular and his chest was more hairy; but for the most part he was the same, he even still had the same crotchety, yet solemn look on his face “Hiya, Sunshine.” His voice was low and soothing, as if you were the finest China that he was worried about shattering. He closed the door gently and walked over to the side of the bed, crouching down to try to make his bearish figure smaller and less daunting “Long time no see. didn’t think the next time I’d see you would be in a shoddy motel, but life is nothing if not unpredictable, right?”

Tag list: @alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @addie5587483 @flamefoxxrecs @adoreyouusugar @teambarnes72 @wintasssoldier @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @taramaria @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @teddybearsgrr @raajali3 @godesslaura @alma13-blog @cevansgurl @sojuxxi @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @bean-is-reading @emi11ie @cjand10 @sweetwrathoflilith @royalwriteroftheuniverse

🎀 Daddy!Ari Levinson x Naive!Reader Drabble🎀

Warnings: thigh grinding, kind of Dark!Ari, dacryphilia

Nicknames: Doe

Tag list🎀

Master list

He knows he shouldn’t find this attractive; your big doe eyes filled with tears and your perfect pink lips pouting ever so slightly, as you work yourself up and down his thigh seeking release. He knew he was fucked up for making you do this, but God if it didn’t make him hard. He could feel his dick begging for freedom from his grey sweats, his tip was already weeping and peeking out of the waistband. He thanked God he was wearing a shirt. He wanted to be inside you, to ruin you. But not yet. He had to control himself, the whimper that left your parted lips caused a growl to rise in his throat. He didn’t know how long he could repress the beast within him, with you soaking all the way through your panties and his sweatpants. You were wearing his favourite pair, white with pink, frilly, lace and bows—he’d bought them for you a few weeks ago, the memory of your flushed face when you unwrapped the pink paper the store clerk had wrapped them in flashed in his mind and the growl finally slipped free. You were his pure, timid little Doe and he was a wolf slowly corrupting you—moulding you into his perfect fuck toy. He wanted to taste you, to see if you really tasted as sweet as you looked. He raised his hands, from their place of digging into the couch cushion, to under his shirt you were wearing and sunk them into the supple, warm, resistant flesh of your ass—that he adored so very much. You whined in response, grinding your clit harder into his thick thigh. He loved when you wore his shirts, they were so massive on you and something about seeing you chose to wear something that was his instead of your own itched the primal, possessive part of his brain. His balls ached, as you let out another one of your high pitched moans when you rubbed your bud just right. He bit down on his lip, letting out a muffled curse as he began to bounce the thigh you were sitting on; trying to quicken your release so he could go deal with his own problem. Your tiny hands dug into his shoulders and you tried to hide your adorable, ruined face, he stopped his bouncing and removed his hands from your ass instead cupping your chin with one “Look at me Doe.” He commanded, you obliged meeting his lustful gaze with your fucked out expression.

“Come, need to come, Ari please, it tingles.” You whimper pathetically, humping his leg slowly. He was proud, you were using the word he’d taught you ‘Come’ it sounded so cute coming from your mouth. He grabbed your hips, stopping your movements and you sob in desperation.

“How about I show you another way to come, Doe eyes? How big girls come.” He felt dirty doing this to you, he felt he was corrupting you—his little, innocent Doe but he needed to feel how tight you were, he needed you to clamp around him. He needed to fuck your little brains out.

“I wanna know. Want you to show me.” You demanded, wiping away the tears of ecstasy rolling down your rose tinted cheeks. He could barely contain his excitement as he lifted you up as he stood from the couch, making sure to graze your panty covered clit with his knuckles.

“I’ll show you, Doe. Let’s go to the bedroom.”

🍁🍪 Ransom Drysdale x Reader: Cookies Drabble 🍪🍁

Warnings: cunnilingus, tooth rotting fluff, baking with Ransom, undertones of power imbalance, Ransom is a bit of a douche, innocent!reader, implied smut

Nicknames: Puppy, Pup, dumb (lightheartedly)

A/N: This is kind of a Drabble/continuation of ‘Never stop chasing me’ as it has the exact same dynamic, but you don’t need to read it to understand what’s going on. Can you tell I adore this asshole so much, I just want to squeeze him 🤗 He gives me cuteness aggression Istg.

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🎀 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

Everything was ready, you looked down at your list one more time to confirm “Flour, baking soda, canned pumpkin, eggs, sugar, festive cookie cutters… and the rest. It’s all here!” You could hardly contain your excitement as you hopped onto the counter, swinging your legs back and forth, a wide smile spread across your face as you hummed along to the songs of the halloween playlist you’d put on. It was perfect, you just needed one more thing.

From the kitchen you heard the jangle of keys and the front door slamming shut. Bingo! Ransom was home. “Puppy! Where are you?”

“In the kitchen!” You call in a singsong voice, the kicking of your legs growing faster as Ransom approached.

You jumped off the counter bounding towards Ransom, squeezing him tightly in a bear hug. You took a deep breath in allowing his familiar, warm vanilla scent to fill your lungs “What’s all of this?” He questioned in a suspicious tone, raising an eyebrow at the neatly ordered spices and assortment of baking ingredients.

“We’re gonna make halloween biscuits!” You exclaimed, your bare feet pattering on the kitchen tiles below you. As you squeezed him tighter.

“We? Do you mean You’re gonna make them?” He asked dryly.

“No, I mean we’re gonna make them together, Ransom.” Your dug you hands into the thick fabric of his sweater, looking up at him and jutting you lower lip out in a pout and putting on your best pair of puppy eyes “Pleaseeee” You whined, rubbing your face into his chest “For me, Ransom, I wanna make cookies with you.” You could see the conflict waging behind his eyes, Ransom bit down on his lip, closed his eyes and exhaled deeply through his nose.

“Fine. We’ll make cookies together. But you owe me.”

“Owe you what?” You tilted your head to the side curiously, sloping your head upwards to look into his eyes—the white of his sweater made them look almost grey. Ransom's heart squeezed at the innocence in your gaze as you asked him, he adored that about you—the fact that it bordered on naïvety and made you wordlessly follow anything he said like it was gospel.

“I haven’t decided yet,” His gaze travelled down to your bare thighs, he swallowed thickly, he knew you were only wearing panties; it was what you usually did whenever you wore any of Ransoms clothes, because they were so big on you, and it drove him crazy every single time. You always did things unknowingly that made him feral and he had to force himself to keep himself under control “but I have some ideas.” He smirked, bringing a hand up to stroke your hair—giving you two head pats and watching as all your thoughts behind your eyes faded as soon as he touched you. “So…Cookies?” His questioning brought you back to your senses. You released him, turning away from him shyly; embarrassed by the effect his touch had on you. The beast inside of him was aching to be released as he watched you fidget, he had to subtly rearrange himself to prevent you from seeing how hard he was. He walked over to the sink, thoroughly washing his hands.

“I-I have everything set out and measured, all we need to do is put it all together, cut out the cookies, put them on a baking tray and leave them in the oven. I didn’t want you to have to do too much, since I knew you’d be tired.” You wrung your hands together as you explained yourself, busying yourself with fiddling with the strings of your apron.

You could feel Ransom standing behind you before he rested his chin on your head. “How thoughtful of you, Puppy.” He placed a kiss on the top of your head before picking up the mixing bowl “So what’s first?”

“We need to cream the butter and sugar together.” You earned a deep laugh from Ransom “What?”

“Cream.” He repeated, tittering to himself. You gave him a playful slap on his forearm, turning away from him and putting the butter and sugar into the bowl he was holding.

“You’re on whisking duty.” You huffed grabbing the smaller bowl and combining the variety of spices, plain flour and bicarbonate of soda together “You’re gonna be whisking for about 3 minutes, until it’s a nice pale colour” Ransom scooted next to you rolling up his sleeves before he began to whisk vigorously, grunting in the process. You felt your mind wandering as you folded the dry ingredients together, swirling them gently as you let your gaze shift over to Ransom. Biting your lip at the extreme focus he was in whilst whisking.

“That’s looking pretty pale to me. I think I’m done, what do you think?” He questioned, looking down at you. He set down the bowl “Caught you staring.”

“I was looking at the bowl!” You defended, unable to meet his accusing gaze.

“Sure you were. Come on, you're the leader, do we just combine both of these?”

“Yep! You know for someone who’s never cooked or baked you’re pretty good at this!”

“Don’t be cheeky, Puppy. I’ve baked before, just not often. Here gimme that.” He took the small bowl of dry ingredients and dumped it all in the bowl he’d been mixing.

“No! we were meant to fold it in slowly!”

“It’ll be fineeee. We can still fold it and now it’ll be quicker.” He passed the wooden spoon over to you “Your turn, since you’re the expert.” He said in a honeyed tone.

After bumping heads with Ransom a bit more about his odd approach to baking you finally had all the cookies cut out in the shapes of pumpkins and bats and on a baking tray. You slid it into the oven and closed the door, throwing the oven gloves and your apron onto the counter “That took way longer than it was meant to, because someone was eating the raw cookie dough!” You grumbled, washing the sticky residue of the cookie dough of your hands.

Ransom picked you up with ease, locking his lips with yours as he placed you on the counter. As he kissed you he began running his hands all across your body; slipping his hands up his sweater you were wearing to caress your tits, tweaking and twisting the pebbled nipples. He pushed his hardened cock against your dripping cunt as he deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours. Watching as you turned into a whimper mess beneath his attention as he deprived you of oxygen. His kisses becoming more and more ravenous as your face becomes red, Ransom pulls away from allowing you to breathe. You grabbed at Ransom trying to pull him back in for more kisses, your mouth feeling so empty without him. But Ransom eased down on to his knees, tipping his head back as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter by your calves. “All this baking has made me hungry, Puppy, but I’m sure you can fix that. Can’t you, my precious little Pup?” Heat rises to your cheeks as a throb of heat pulses between your thighs, you squeeze them together trying to subtly gain some friction. He slowly trails his large hands from your calves up to your knees, rubbing circles into them with the pads of his thumbs before he parts your legs. You loved it when ransom manhandled you, the way he took control and dominated you; he made you wet without even touching your pussy.

Ransom massaged the wet spot form on your underwear grinning as he watched you bite back a moan. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, pulling them off and tucking them away in the back pocket of his dark blue jeans “You’re dripping for me.” He blew cold air against your clit, as if you were a hot meal he was trying to cool, the action sent a shiver up your spine making Ransom chuckle

“Stop teasing.” You pouted using one of your hands to tousle his hair playfully.

“I’m teasing? I think you’re mistaken, Pup. You’ve been teasing me since the second I walked through the front door. Wearing my sweater, giving me those puppy eyes and expecting me to be able to focus on baking. I wanted to bend you over this counter and fuck your little brains out as soon as I laid eyes on you. This is simply payback.” Placing feather light touches with the tips of his fingers right next to your swollen lips.

You whined pushing your hips into his face “Please.” You begged “need you.”

“Can’t even form a full sentence. I haven’t even touched you yet and you can’t even think coherently. What are we going to do with you, my dumbly little Puppy?” He cooed, taking your sensitive nub into his scorching mouth, sucking on it gently and grazing the hood with his bottom teeth. You threw your head back, narrowly missing the corner of the cabinet. He released your clit, swiping his tongue through your creamy slit; before sucking on each of your puffy lips giving soft nibbles to each, your moans rising in pitch with every soft touch and lick. He slipped two fingers inside you, scissoring them inside you whilst he drew his initials on your clit with his tongue with slow swipes. You could barely focus on anything, as his fingers rubbed against the spongy part inside you that made your moan like a pornstar. Ransom moved from your clit to slurp the slick running out of you “Such a messy Puppy. You’re gonna get the counter all dirty with your sweet nectar.” You couldn’t handle his teasing normally, but especially not while he was devouring you like a starved man. You attempted to pull your hips away as you felt the heat within you growing, but his hold on your thighs stiffened; becoming almost bruising as he lapped and sucked at your quivering hole, slipping his tongue in to accompany his fingers before returning to your throbbing clit. The pace of his tongues flicking quickened, he could tell you were near your end and he was going to do everything in his power to hear you scream for him “Cum. Cum on my face, Puppy. Soak me.” He demanded, suckling your clit as your body spasmed, making your hips rise up off the counter as you came on his fingers. Your sopping pussy constricting around him like a viper as he continued to piston his fingers into you through your orgasm; attacking the sensitive part within you making you scream. You could feel another orgasm approaching as he drew tight circles on your pulsating pearl.

“Ransom! Please stop, it hurts. Feels too good.” You sobbed your thighs, quivering in his powerful grasp. Drool leaking from the corner of your mouth as you let out pathetic overstimulated whines. Another wave of pleasure crashed through your body, making you let out sounds you didn’t think you were capable of. If you knew what was going on you’d be embarrassed, but you were so lost in the pleasure that Ransom’s tongue was giving you that you couldn’t care less if the whole world heard you.

Ransom got to his feet, his eyes raking over you hungrily as he wiped the remainder of your juices that his tongue couldn’t reach with the back of his hand. He wanted to take a picture of you like this, your pretty face all destroyed for him accompanied by the vacant look behind your eyes. Scratch that he wanted to frame it. He cupped your cheek with his hand wiping the tears of ecstasy still staining your cheeks away. He slipped his thumb past your lips, practically growling as you began to suckle on the digit “We’ve still got a few minutes before they’re done baking, so how about we have a bit more fun, Puppy?”

Tag list: @petesey @cevansgurl @bval-1 @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @flamefoxxrecs @adoreyouusugar @sojuxxi @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @taramaria @bean-is-reading

best kinktober-monstertober is your in this whole app u leave half written or just stop writing a story its a responsible behaviour love you

Anon I’m gonna be honest here, I have no idea what this means. But thank you? I think…

So i found your fic "never stop chasing me" and it is so cute 😭 but as i started reading it tumblr glitched and closed the page and i lost the fic. And i couldn't remember the name of the fic or your username and i was so sad. And tumblr's search bar and hashtag system is so broken i couldn't find it so i had to go to google and search keywords i remembered from the fic. And i did find it of course!!

I'm glad i found it because it definitely was worth the search!! I love how you characterized ransom. He is the jerk we all know and love, but you also brought a tenderness that feels natural to his character. And im very impressed that as a one-shot you progressed ransom and reader's relationship in a way that wasn't rushed or drawn out.

Sorry for the rant. You're a great writer, thank you for sharing your work!!

Rants are always welcomed lovely! I’m so glad you found NSCM again, no thanks to dumblr 😒 I’m happy you liked it @knight-core I love the character of Ransom, I feel like he’s a soft gooey little teddy bear on the inside who uses his asshole exterior to protect his fragile heart. If you want more of Ransom and his Puppy you can find them in my new ‘Festive cookie Drabble’ part of my Monstertober challenge 🫰🏻💕

Little update!

Everything has been resolved! At least from my perspective, I’m fine with their explanation which you can read here.

As long as it’s for personal use and not to be passed off as own work I’m fine with people downloading my fics. I just want everyone to enjoy themselves whilst reading; I know how annoying it can be if your favourite fic is deleted, so I understand the sentiment of wanting to maintain its longevity.

Regardless, I’m still thankful for being notified about the situation (specifically big thanks to @darsynia you are an actual angel Istg) and I love how our community supports each other 💕

Ummmm excuse me?????

This poster is NOT me.

I posted this fic here on 2/21/23.

How fucking dare you take a piece of my hard work and post it as yours. Whoever did this has some major fucking balls to post the exact piece in the Matt/Reader genre I look at every day.

Fuck you. I've already reported to ao3. My guess is the rest the fics posted aren't yours either.

Write your own work instead of stealing from others.

Seriously, go fuck yourself.

--

I can definitely see how you thought it may be Loki and although I love the guy, it not him—all is revealed in ‘Careful what you wish for’ And in the sequel that I’m going to be writing for ‘Shrine built of Lies’, the demon is going to delve out some much deserved payback to Bucky and Steve for being such little cretins and of course she going to get to watch ☺️

Monstertober Day 7:

Shrine built of lies

Pairing: Occultist!Stucky x Victim!/captured!Reader

Warnings: Non con!!!, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death, reader is a sacrifice, knife play?, mentions of blood, public sex, voyeurism, humiliation, implied cult, mystery demon, choking, blood kink, Dark!Stucky, p in v, oral (male receiving) , spitting in readers mouth, dacryphilia, manipulation, betrayal of trust

Nicknames: Doll, Dove

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Who do you guys think the mysterious demon is? It’ll be revealed tomorrow 😏 and I may make a sequel of this featuring the aftermath and this particular demon 😈

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

From behind your eyelids you can feel a blaring light on your face, your body is uncomfortably warm; sweat rolling down your temple, your clothes damp—sticking to your body almost as if it was a summer afternoon, but it was October. Your mouth feels as if it’s stuffed with cotton wool—you move your tongue around and swallow to generate saliva, but a painful ache radiates in your throat as you do. There’s a mass of indistinct mumbling, so intune that it’s like the thrumming of a hive of bees. You keep your eyes closed, moving your hand across the cool stone feeling a smooth, waxy residue as you soak up the coolness. You don’t remember falling asleep and you definitely weren’t in your house, you think you must have fallen asleep during your lunch break.

Sluggishly you open your heavy eyelids, squinting as the light dominates your vision. Slowly you adjust, opening your eyes fully and you let your eyes wander around you. You’re surrounded by people in black robes, they’re hanging over you; they’re black hoods covering their face as they chant. You’re surrounded by heaps of long, white pillar candles, the hot wax dripping onto the stone slab you were laid on. You try to move your arm but the jangle of a chain pauses your movements, the copper scent of your own blood reaches your nose; your wrists are rubbed raw from you moving in your sleep. The people stop chanting and begin to shuffle away from you, moving as if they are all sewed together—so synchronised that it’s horrifying. As they move away you can see more of your surroundings. Intricately carved, Chalky, white pillars decorated with crooked crosses and dripping taper candles. You were in a cathedral, facing the massive wooden doors. The people at your feet began to part, allowing you to see two men approaching briskly. Their black robes more ornate than the others; decorated with silver and red embroidery, jewels and rosaries. At the bottom of the altar they split, one going to your left, the other going to your right. They pushback their hoods allowing you to see their faces, your eyes go wide.

“Hiya, Doll.” Bucky’s familiar smooth Brooklyn accent reaches your ears, and even though you’re chained to an altar, in clothes that are not your own and he and Steve are more than likely responsible. Your face burns and you begin to tingle, your hole fluttering in response to his voice.

“Did you have a nice nap, Dove? You made our coffees just how we like them, you were so preoccupied that you didn’t even notice Buck slipping something into your own drink.”

They were responsible.

You knew they were, but hearing Steve confess made the betrayal sting just a bit more. As if they were twisting the knives they’d both stabbed in your back. You had made these two coffee everyday for almost two months straight, you got to know about their childhoods; how Bucky used to protect Steve when he was scrawny and used to get into street fights, you learnt they joined the military together and now they lived together. You trusted them. They were the favourite part of your shift and now they've betrayed you. The guilt took the form of a lump in your throat as tears brimmed your eyes. You thought they liked you, you thought they were flirting with you—that they wanted you to be a part of their lives. Tears rolled down your burning cheeks “Don’t cry, Doll, you’re safe. You’re with us Steve and Bucky, history professor and personal trainer. That’s the lie we told you wasn’t it? Or was that the last one?”

“Aw Buck, look at her. Her whole world’s fallin’ apart. Be gentle with her, or don’t it’ll be more fun if you’re not.” This Steve was completely different from the bashful, kind man who frequented the coffee shop you worked at. They both were, they were completely different, the dichotomy was terrifying. The fact they had both been so deceitful and created completely alternate personalities just to be able to kidnap and kill you for some freaky cult made the anguish inside you boil into indignation.

“What the fuck is going on!?” You screeched the venom left from their treachery laced in your words.

Bucky slaps you harshly across the face “Don’t use that type of language. Doll. It’s not ladylike, and it’s especially inappropriate in this place of worship. This is a sacred place for the Holy Army of Hydra. We didn’t lie completely, after all we were in the army and now we’re in a different kind of army.”

One of the cloaked followers breaks from the line and scuttles over to Steve, whispering into his ear “Bucky, it’s almost time. We need to start the ceremony soon, or it’ll be too late.”

“What ceremony?”

“That's why you’re here, Doll, you’re our virgin sacrifice that we’re going to corrupt and then offer to our Lord.” Your mouth hung open as you stared at him wide eyed in disbelief. Bucky stroked his rough knuckles against your soft cheek as he shushed you “Shhh, there’s no need to be scared, Doll. You’re gonna be helping us and you’ll feel so much pleasure before we end your pathetic, meaningless little life. All you did with your life was make coffees for minimum wage, you won’t miss livin’ much.” His honeyed words only made your eyes leak more, he gave you a twisted smile as you began to sniffle your tears turning into full on sobs “Keep going you're makin me harder. I love it when they cry.”

“You’re so pretty when you cry, little Dove. I just wanna hit you more. Maybe strangle you, watch you choke on your own congealed spit and tears.” You shied away from his touch as he reached for your neck, but you couldn’t go far thanks to your restraints “Just one of my hands fits around your entire neck” he gave a little squeeze, smirking as you coughed and then he flashed the warm smile he gave you when he first entered the coffee shop two month prior. The smile that made you instantly fall in love with him, the smile you saw in your dream when you imagined your future with them both. He gave you that smile and tightened his grip, they both laughed as you flailed your arms about—trying to reach him to get him to stop, as you began to choke feeling all the oxygen quickly drain from your lungs. You were gasping for air like a fish out of water and then he let go “Breathe. You’re gonna need it, Dove.”

“And Now loyal followers! We will begin the ritual, close the circle around us. Don’t let go of each other's hands or you’ll make our Lord angry, so no matter what you must hold hands and not break the chant. Begin.”

Bucky ran his hand across the smooth surface of the altar as strode to where your feet were. He climbed on to it, using his strength to bend your legs at the knee, even despite your resistance, and positioned himself between your legs. The white chemise bunch at your hips leaving your bare pussy on display for all to see. “You’re dripping for us, Doll. Do you like being watched? Do you like being captured and held against your will? Does the prospect of being released from the painful existence of this mortal coil excite you?” You furiously shook your head, biting on your lip to suppress a whimper as he ran a hot finger through your folds “Your body is honest, why aren’t you?” He held out his slick covered fingers to Steve and he gladly took them into his mouth.

“So tasty, Dove.” He praised, turning your head on its side to face him “Open your mouth, suck me off. No teeth.” Hesitantly you opened your mouth, Steve slapped his dick against your cheek leaving sticky precum on your in it’s wake before shoving his full length down your throat. You gaged around him, making your throat restrict around him; you could feel every single vein on his shaft and you felt it twitch as you gagged again. Steve groaned in response, taking a handful of your hair as leverage as he abused your throat.

The pain in your jaw was overridden by the blistering ache of Bucky’s thick dick splitting you open. You choked as you tried to scream, digging your nails into Steve’s thigh till you drew blood. The action only made him quicken his thrusts.

“Fuckkk. She feels like silk, Stevie”

Steve swiftly pulled his member out of your mouth and walked over to the end of the altar behind Bucky, his throbbing, wet dick bobbing against his pelvis as he walked. “Change position, I want to feel you around me.” Steve orders, the dominance in his words making the man tearing you apart bite his lip. He complied, shifting his position of being crouched on his knees, to him placing one hand next to your head and using the other to drag your legs around his hips; so he could still thrust into you whilst presenting himself to the approaching blonde. Steve crawled behind him kneeling down, he spat on his fingers and smeared it on Bucky’s clenching rosebud, giving Bucky the care and gentleness that the brunette had skipped over before he shoved himself inside you. “That’s it, open up for me Buck. You’re always so tight when I fuck whilst you’re getting your cock squeezed.” Bucky choked out a moan as Steve scissored his fingers, his thrusts stopped momentarily when Steve slipped inside.

His fist next to your head pounded into the hard stone of the altar as he let out a low moan “God, Steve…F-feels great. She’s really squeezing now, do you like watching Steve fuck me, you little pervert?” His tittering was cut short as Steve began to thrust, making his hips involuntarily move in tandem. The chant of the cultist faded to white noise as pain eventually became pleasure. Bucky’s thrust became less brutal and more loving as Steve thrusted into him slowly and rhythmically, his hands caressing Bucky’s body over the robe. A pleasurable heat swept through you, your clit tingling as Bucky puffed warm breathes down onto you “Get lost in the pleasure, it’s not so bad after all is it.”

“I-I h-hate you.” You whined as the head of Bucky’s cock nudge against the sweet spot inside you. Your mouth opened in a silent wail and Bucky spat into your open mouth.

“Swallow my spit. Be- ah Be grateful.” He scowled at you as he waited expectantly, you did as he said swallowing down his spit “Such a good Doll.” He cooed, his praise made you keen and tighten. Bucky slammed into you brutally, chuckling at your yelp. You were so embarrassed, but God if it didn’t feel good. You had completely forgotten about the circle of chanting people surrounding you. The only thing that existed right now was Bucky, Steve and the pleasure they were drawing from you.

“cummming! Gonna cum!” You exclaimed feeling the heated tingle in your lower belly becoming unbearable.

“Cum. Do it. Make Buck cum, so he can make me cum.” Steve’s deep commanding voice was the final push you needed for your eyes to roll back into your head and your pussy to constrict around Bucky making him cum with a whimpered fuck, pouring so much of his hot cum into you that it began to leak from adding to the puddle of your juices below your hips. Steve wasn’t far behind; forcing Bucky back into his hips with such force you thought he’d dislocate his hip as he came.

Your vision slowly returned, and just as you were no longer seeing only white, from seemingly nowhere Bucky pulled out a highly decorated, sharp dagger and carved a heart into your chest. You yanked at your restraints screaming like a banshee as the knife cut through your flesh, the agony only intensified when Bucky dipped his head and sucked at the fresh wound. He pulled away, licking the blood from his lips, as if it were simply red wine. Steve leaned over towards Bucky, capturing his blood stained lips in a passionate kiss. Moaning as the metallic taste of your blood entered his mouth, his scar littered hands take hold of the dark fabric of Bucky’s robe pulling him closer so he can devour Bucky’s lips; his tongue searching for traces of your blood whilst entangled with Bucky’s. Steve breaks the kiss, leaving Buck a panting mess on top of you, and he dips his head down to the incision Bucky made over your heart sucking blood from the leaking wound like a starved animal making you scream as he pulls at the damaged skin with his teeth. Bucky cards his fingers through Steve’s golden hair as he feasts “That’s it Stevie drink your fill, she tastes so delectable doesn’t she?” Steve hums in response sending vibrations through the throbbing cut making you squeal “You need to stop so she doesn’t pass out before the ritual is complete.” He tries to remove Steve but he growls at Bucky giving him a dark, animalistic scowl as he digs his nails into the skin of your arm “Punk. I said let go.” Bucky yanks his hair making Steve stop and come up from your chest, his face smeared with your blood.

“I’m hungry, Buck. Her blood is so fucking good. I’m hard again.” He mumbles, taking his hard cock into his hand and pumping it.

Bucky slips off the altar and pulls Steve close, running his tongue across Steve’s bloodied cheek and then starts sucking your blood out of his beard; whilst rubbing the pad of his thumb across the slit of Steve’s dick. “They’ll be time to feast on her more later…and take care of other things, but right now we need to complete the ritual. Practice patience, like the Lord commands.” They parted ways again, both returning to their respective places—Bucky on your left, Steve on your right. They both took hold of the dagger, raising it high so the warm light of the candles cast fragments of light around the cathedral

“Please! No! Please!” You cry, whimpering as you try to curl your body away from the path of the knife.

“May our Lord receive our offering.” They both chant, plunge the knife into your throat. Steve immediately lets go, but Bucky pulls out the knife and makes a slit horizontally across your neck. Blood spurts in streams from your neck, like an elegant fountain in a town plaza. The men chanting raise their heads and push back their hoods—moving in unison. They all collect some of your blood onto their fingers and draw a symbol on their foreheads “May our lord receive our offering.” They drone simultaneously. A cold rush of air blows through the cathedral, all the candles blow out leaving them in utter darkness.

“James. What’s going on?” Steve’s voice quivers as he asks, turning his face towards Bucky to try and look into his eyes from comfort. It was impossible to see.

“I don’t know. Steven. None of this shit is meant to be real.” He spat, nerves sending a wave of goosebumps across his skin. His hand sought for Steve’s, entwining his fingers with his for some security. He knew Steve was going to be pissed at him, he thought it was all real after all. It was meant to be fake and only Bucky was meant to know that.

Steve opened his mouth to speak but a booming voice began “Your Lord has arrived. I thank you for the gifts, but I think I want a few more. Maybe all of your souls will suffice.”

Tag list: @phildunphyisadilf @alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @redbloodedgurl @shrekwreck @sweetwrathoflilith @cjand10 @flamefoxxrecs @addie5587483 @little-bunny0523 @sojuxxi @adoreyouusugar @teambarnes72 @wintasssoldier @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @cevansgurl @bval-1 @taramaria @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @anniellacinamon

Monstertober Day 1:

The Big Bad Wolf

Pairing: Dark!Werewolf!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Dub con, Dead dove: Do not eat, chasing, sex in a forest, scratching, biting, belly bulge, angst, near death, dacryphilia, bruises (not the kinky kind), begging (for him to stop), apologetic Bucky, beefy!bucky, lumberjack!bucky

Nicknames: Bunny

Word count: 3.1k

Monstertober master list

Master list

Tag list🎀

Happy October 1st everyone! Nothing like a little werewolf!Bucky to get you in the spirit. See you all on the 5th of October for Orc!Bucky🎃

The setting sun cast its orange glow upon Bucky’s chiseled face, emphasising his sharp features. He’s staring out into the assortment of trees, some turning yellow, some turning a deep red and others a mix of both. His breath sent out a cloud of smoke that twirled in the air. You couldn’t focus on the picturesque landscape before you with Bucky here, your eyes scanned over his toned arms bulging out of his plaid shirt’s rolled up sleeves. His entire body was unfair, those hours of chopping wood and building things had really paid off. His slightly tanned skin glistened in the sunset. He turned towards you, smirking at the fact he caught you staring “looks like someone’s got a staring problem, Bunny.” He chuckles, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead.

You pout “I think Sam would say the same about you.” You retort, deviously. Bucky sighs rolling his eyes

“Do you have to mention that punk? I have to deal with him all week long at the lumberyard, I do not want to even think about him when I’m with you up here.” He frowns, looking back out into the distance. You giggle at his stroppiness.

Time to change the subject, you decide “It’s a full moon tonight, maybe we’ll see some wolves up here orrrrr” you stared at him intensely “a werewolf!” You giggled at your words, Bucky did not laugh, you pouted at him.

“It’s not a full moon tonight.” He stated firmly, his voice tremors slightly—to just anyone it wouldn’t be noticable, but you knew Bucky. Something was off. You stopped laughing, opening your eyes and slowly turning back towards him.

“Yeah it is, I have the moon chart right here on my phone.” You reached into your pocket and began flicking through your photo gallery “It’s fine, Bucky, werewolves aren't real if that’s what you’re worried about.” You finally found it, and sure enough you were correct; tonight was a full moon “See! Boom! Full moon, I told you it was. I remember checking, because was so excited. I’ve never been out this far from the city on a full moon, I bet it’s gonna be so beautiful. I can’t wait, especially because I’m with you.” You muttered the last part, casting your gaze down to Bucky’s rough, working hands. You’d watched him chop wood just a few hours earlier. The way his large calloused hands gripped the handle of the axe made your mind race and your body grow hot, you wanted him so badly. You stroked his knuckles, he was so warm.

“You need to go. Now.” His voice came out in almost a growl, you picked up his hand. He pulled it away “Leave. Get as far as you can.” He warned. You looked at him with pure confusion, your heart hurt at his rejection.

The sky grew darker, fading into a pale navy, the moon was bright tonight, its glow already piercing through the slowly dissipating clouds. You tried to find words to argue with him, your eyes burning with tears, you tried to blink them away. It had been going so well “Bucky? What’s up with you.” You turned back towards him, his nostrils flared out in anger. He was panting heavily, constantly moving, unable to sit still. His eyes were darker than usual and his entire face was coated in a thin sheen of sweat “Are you feeling alright? Should I call an ambulance? You don’t look well.”

Your hands grew sweaty and your stomach bubbled with nerves. Bucky let out a grunt and a skin crawling crackle rang out, his body began to grow—his shirt tearing at the seams and white tuffs of pelt spewing out of the rips. You watch, body frozen in horror as he morphs into a white beast before your eyes. Adrenaline prickles in your belly as you take in the sight before you. His hand you had just been holding were now partly paw, covered in white fur. His handsome jaw, dusted in stubble, had converted into a white furry maw with a shiny black nose on the end and rows of sharp, carnivorous teeth. His greyish blue eyes that you adored staring into were gone, replaced by reflective almond shaped yellow irises that glowered at you, sizing you up like you were an actual bunny. You shrunk in on yourself as you stumbled to your feet.

“GO!” He bellowed, letting out a pained groan as his transformation completed itself. The last of his shirt tore off him and he stood from the deck. His furious glare met your eyes as you stood dumbfounded at the literally werewolf in front of you. You fumbled in your pockets for your keys, he let out a deep hole and your hands shook, your keys fell from your hands. You had no time. You were face to face with your demise.

You set off into the thicket of trees, cursing yourself for dropping your keys. A sob caught in your throat, as you ran as fast as your legs could take you. You could hear him behind you, twigs snapping beneath his monstrous white paws; crushing them so easily, the image of you breaking beneath him just as easily flashed in your mind. Him snapping your arms under his weight. the agony. Him cracking your ribs as he tore out your trachea with his canines. The vinegary taste of vomit rose into your mouth, you reluctantly swallowed. The crisp forest air made you dizzy as you desperately drank down oxygen, shielding your face from the heaps of brambles that you sprinted through.

The towering blue firs stretched endlessly into the horizon, some thick and ancient others thin, weedy and new. It was only half an hour ago that Bucky had toured you through these woods; he had pointed out marks carved into the trees by previous wonders of this forest, before it had been sold as a plot of land. He told you about the history, he spoke of men, women and children with sepia skin and the horrors they had befallen at the hand of colonisers. But that was all behind you now. Now you were close to becoming history, you could hear his ragged breathing flitting around you as he dashed through trees, as you turned your head back you could see his white fur darting between the foliage. His coat as white as driven snow.

You smacked into the ground, head colliding with the packed, solid dirt slightly hidden by its crispy carpet of orange, yellow and brown. White hot pain ran through your forearms, you swiped your hands over the scraped skin on both. Blood slowly emerging from the pink fleshy wounds. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears

Thump

Thump

Thump

Your lungs burned as you took in gulps of air, you tried to get your feet. You couldn’t. You let out a yelp as you attempted to stand, your eyes flew to your ankle; the skin already tinged purple and red. You hesitantly stroked it, you let out an involuntary whimper and withdrew your hand, offended by your own touch.

Thump

Thump

Crack

Your fate dawned upon you. You swivelled your head around rapidly. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear the low grumble that echoed through the forest. You stared up at the moon. Its buttermilk shine in full intensity, almost blinding, peering through the tree tops at your pathetic state. Mocking you with its beauty. Your vision swims as you snivel at your dejected, miserable state. Werewolves aren’t real. This has to be some sick joke, but you’d seen him turn. You heard his bones crackle and pop as he grew into a humanoid wolf.

You hoped you’d wake up soon from this nightmare.

Crunch

Your head spun to the left, but before your eyes could even focus—he was on top of you. The weight of him pushed you back into the forest floor. You began thrashing against his paws grip, could you even call them paws? They were his hands, rough and calloused but now they had thick black pads on the palms. So familiar, yet unfamiliar. The familiarity brang you reassurance, but the thick tufts of fur tickling your arms brought you unease and foreboding. One of his hands keeps you in place, shoving you painfully into the ground, the pressure making it hard to breath, his claw rips through your thin shorts with ease. His thick black claws cut through the fabric like butter. His nail catches on the globe of one of your ass cheeks, you hiss in pain and try to pull away from him. It’s futile. He warns you against moving with a growl “James. James, please, please stop, I'm begging you. Please.” You plead . He continues, disregarding your whines, shoving himself between your legs, the cold snuffling of his nose is contrasted by warm saliva dripping from his mouth onto your slit. You whimper and close your legs, but his paw grabs your thigh and holds your legs open. His rough paw pad scratched your soft skin and he sunk his claws into your thigh “Ow! Fuck! Bucky!” You yelled, kicking at him with your foot. You regret your action instantly, pain shooting through your sprained ankle. Bucky grumbles and sits on the foot, you let out a deafening scream, the agony making your vision flash white “Get off!” You demand beating your fists into the ground. To your surprise he did, his head returning in between your legs, his muzzle nudging your inner thigh. You heard him take a long inhale before pressing his cold, wet nose to your entrance. His tongue flopped out of his mouth, licking a long stripe from your clit all the way to your ass. He snarled softly and began to feast on your pussy. Despite the pain you were wet, you dug your nails into the dirt below you moaning as his tongue brushed your clit.

It’s just Bucky. You tried to assure yourself, it wasn’t working.

You couldn’t help the dread that ran through you as his thick, rough tongue unskillfully lapped at your pussy. The licks were long and slow, they were not prioritising your pleasure. Instead it was his own form of savouring you, you were a meal to him. You bit down on your bottom lip painfully, he was going to kill you, wasn’t he? Eat you, leave nothing but bone. More tears slipped down your cheeks, your hair clinging to the wet salty trails—tickling at your eyes. His tongue plunged into your hole eliciting a squeak from you in response to the intrusion, you shifted below his grip and he growled; you could feel his tongue vibrate inside of you, his teeth pressing into your lips as he shoved himself further between your legs. His tongue travels deeper into you. You could feel it graze your cervix as he swallowed all your juices. Warm pleasure grew in you belly replacing the sickness that was rising, you were going to come on this monster's tongue.

It’s just Bucky. You assured yourself, this time it helped.

You raised your hips and pressed yourself into him, he let out a happy rumbling in response as he continued to eat your pussy with vigour “gonna come! Ahh- Bucky!” You keened, the vibrations from his purring sending you over the edge. Your slick soaked his muzzle as you came harder than you ever had before. Bucky had always been skilled at eating you out, but his tongue now was unbeatable.He pulled his tongue out and you collected any remaining juices before pulling away. The frigid night breeze blew against your dripping cunt sending a shiver through you.

You felt his thick heavy cock rest against your back, it was scalding hot dripping with precum. You didn’t need to see it to know that it wasn’t going to fit. Just the feeling of the shaft alone, almost as girthy as a coke can. You were mortified “It’s not going to fit! Bucky!” You insisted, pushing on your elbows to get up. He gave a light push between your shoulder blades and you were back on the ground. The small stones and sticks digging into the red impressions already on your cheeks. Bucky let out a snarl, before lining the head of his dick up to your entrance, his hands—borderline paws— push on your shoulders as he thrusted into you. Even after your orgasm, he barely fit. He ruts himself into you with short, shallow thrusts coaxing you open. Pain shots through you with every inch that tears you open. “A-a-ahh!” Your howl. You were sure he was going to rip you in two. He groaned as he bottomed out, he was crammed uncomfortably inside. He couldn’t fit it all inside at this angle. He pulled out and let out a feral growl, that shook you to your core as he began to fuck you. He set a brutal pace, slamming his hips into your repeatedly as roughly as possible. You were so impossibly full. Despite the pain and terror, pleasure began to rise in your hips and knot forming inside you.

He leaned over you, his furry chest flush against your arching back. You felt the point of his sharp teeth glide against your skin and you felt him sniffing at your throat, his hot breath fanning at the back of your neck and the cold dampness of his nose grazing the curve of your neck. You pray he’ll realise it’s you. That he’ll pull out. It was still so painful “James…?” You question in a hushed voice. He doesn’t respond, instead he sinks his teeth into your shoulder and you screech, flailing on the ground against the crushing grip of his claws, kicking up the dirt underneath your feet. His wet, scorching tongue laps at the blood running out of the fresh wounds hungrily and you whimper from the pain that pulses through you every single time. His wolf-like ears turned at the sound he rubbed his snout into your neck, almost as if he was trying to soothe you. His blood stained tongue drinks up the tears sliding down your cheeks “Jamie?” You sob, your pussy involuntarily clenches around him as he moves hips. The bulbous head of his cock collides with your cervix painfully once again. Then he wraps one of his arms fully around your torso and pulls you up so that you are sat straddled on his lap. Your hands fly around his broad neck, grabbing at his fur so as to not fall off of him. In this position his full length fit inside you, you had thought you were full before but now you felt so stuffed, so full of him. The length of him was torturous. You look down at where you’re connected, but the sight of his cock bulging inside of you captures your attention. One of his paws moves from your hips and strokes at the protrusion. He lets out a primal growl and nips at the other side of your throat. If you survived the night you were going to be covered in bites, bruises and scars. This night was going to follow you for the rest of your life. You didn’t know if you’d ever be able to face him again.

His claws cut into your hips, the marks prickling with fresh blood and he squeezes down with a bruising grip. You feel him getting larger inside of you, then reality hits. His knot. He was going to knot you. You threw your head into his shoulder, your hands flying to his head scratching desperately. Whimpering at your impending doom. He let out what sounded like a chuckle at your thrashing, the look he gave you almost as if to say “let it happen bunny.” Your lip wobbled and you shrieked as you felt your hole catch on the expanding knot at the base of his cock “no, mercy, please.” You cried, burying you head into his hairy muscular chest, he still smelt the same

It’s just Bucky. It’s just Bucky.

Your chant wasn’t working as the burning pain from your hole cleared your head of any thoughts. A scream from deep within you left your mouth, as your body made an effort to adjust to his growing size. You bit down on the skin of his coarse chest to muffle your cries, his long white fur glueing to your tongue. The texture disgusts you, but the pain overrides it. The pain overrides everything, even the brief pleasure you felt as he fucked into you was now replaced by pain. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, his fiery white glowing eyes haunting you even with your eyes closed.

Your eyes shoot open, you bare your teeth groaning at the pain as his knot catches on your hole. His pace becomes sloppy. He’s close, so very close. You throw your head back, the knot inside you snapping, sending a pulse of heat through your entire being as he finally locks inside you; his knot expanding to full size as he paints your insides with his cum, there’s so much. Too much. Your stomach swells with how much cum he pumps into you. You can feel it leaking out of you as he continues to come, moving his hips as much as he can while being trapped inside. Tears leak from your eyes and spit dribbles from your mouth, you can’t help your walls fluttering around him. So overstimulated, so much pain. It’s all become one. The world around you starts to fade away as he lays back, allowing you to be splayed out on his chest. Your body is numb as he twists you so you can bury your face into him. The heat radiating off of him brings you solace as the last bit of adrenaline fades.

“What the fuck happened last night?” He questioned groggily, tousling his hair sleepily. He shielded his eyes from the early morning sun.

Why the fuck could he see the sun?

His blood ran cold. He felt something lying on top of him, his eyes hesitantly drifted below him “Holy shit. Bunny?” He sat up, your body was limp, but warm. Then he took in the state of you. The giant bite mark on your throat, the leaves and twigs tangled in your hair, cuts and bruises adorned your skin “Y/N…?” His voice wobbled, he stroked his rough knuckles over the dark black and purple bruise circling your right eye. Bucky whimpered, his enhanced hearing allowed him to hear your heartbeat. It was weak and laboured. He picked you up in his arms and cuddled you close. Your eyes opened slowly.

“Buck?” You questioned, his heart clenched at your hoarse little voice. You sounded so innocent, so confused and a tad scared.

“I’m right here Bunny. The scary wolf is gone. Bucky’s gonna protect you. I’m gonna make this right I promise.” You smiled contently.

It’s just Bucky after all.

Tag list:

@alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @cjand10 @sweetwrathoflilith @shrekwreck @redbloodedgurl @teambarnes72

I Wanna Be Yours❦

Part 1: Snap out of it

Part 2: Arabella - Coming soon

One stop off of heaven masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angst, infidelity, reader is the side piece, hurt, brief mentions of childhood friend!Bucky, no happy ending (sort of), reader is used, no aftercare, all hurt no comfort, p in v, rough sex, hate sex, doggy style, hair pulling, slapping, biting, allusions to reader being infertile (can be ignored :))

Nicknames: My girl, whore, slut, Sweetheart, buttercup

WC: 4K

The Happier version: My Girl -Coming soon

A/N: This is the angstier version of the fic ‘My Girl’ and is the actually original version of the fic and more truly embodies what I was feeling when writing them both.

A/N: Ive been gone for a really long time (like almost 3 months) and I’m really sorry I’ve been extremely busy, because as a lot of you know I’m doing a PhD right now. Anyway, this is part of a series that I’ll hopefully finish when I’m not so busy. I also have a few requests to finish. Love y’all 💕

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🎀༺

You both laid in the middle of the hotel bed, your head nuzzled into Bucky’s chest as you held him tight, taking in the smell of him like it was the last time you’d ever be able to. Your mind burned as you broke down every note of his scent; Magnolia, vanilla, leather and petrichor. You chanted it like a recipe in your head, begging yourself not to forget it. Just in case you ever had to recreate it when he was gone, it was inevitable after all—It was reality, this world you had both created in this room was no longer tangible. Someone was going to find out, or they had already—and to make him keep risking it, running around with you at night. It couldn’t continue, the thought of it ending made your throat tighten and a smell similar to pva glue fill your nose. It burnt as you blinked the tears back. Even as you squeezed him tighter, closer, it felt like he drifted further and further away; you could just feel it. He was distancing himself from you mentally and now physically, to make it more bearable for you both; so that he could lessen the pain, but little did he know the more he moved away the more it hurt, the more your heart shattered into tiny, little pieces that you’d inevitably be left alone to pick up. You wondered if you’d ever be able to repair your heart, or if it had shattered so much into such minuscule pieces that trying would be futile.

You had one final night with him and here you were, spending it cuddling him trying to suppress your tears. You didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes if you shattered, if you showed how much this little love affair truly meant to you. You loved putting up the tough, emotionless bitch act but you couldn’t. Not now. Not if it meant letting him go, never feeling his rough hands trace your every curve, never having him to kiss every scar, never being able to hear his deep, silky voice. You didn’t give a shit about the sex, no matter how mind blowing it was. You just wanted him to stay, you’d become celibate if it meant he’d stay. You’d do anything. But you weren’t “his girl” no matter how many times he whispered it to you softly or made you scream it as he fucked you. You just weren’t his. Not in the eyes of the law and not in the eyes of any of your guy’s friends. She was and you hated her for it, you hated the nice girl who brought you ‘Welcome home’ cookies, who comforted you when you were crying, despite not know you were mourning your chance with her husband, the sweet, beautiful, perfect girl that would one day give Bucky the sweet, beautiful, perfect family he’d always dreamed of. You hated that you hated her, it felt immoral, this all felt immoral. But she had what you wanted; him. She had him wrapped around her tiny, wicked…pretty, well manicured finger, it was wrong of you to force him into this—Bucky had always been weak to you and you used that against him. You made him cheat, but deep down you knew a part of him liked it. He was just like you after all, he was broken and a collector—but instead of things you both collected bits and pieces of others and saved them up inside you, it’s what made you both feel whole.

His arm that had been laying flat under your head shifted, he ran his fingers through your hair, rubbing slowly circles on your scalp, caressing the base of your skull with his warm palm. His touch was too much, you didn’t deserve it. That’s what broke you. The burning in your nose got too much; tears began to stream from your eyes like water from a broken faucet and the knot straining in your throat gave way to heavy sobs as you scrunched the material of his shirt in your fingers “What’s wrong sugar?” He asked indifferently, but you couldn’t answer. The embarrassment from letting your walls finally fall in front of him and the pity you had for yourself, that you detested, jammed your throat. You tried to open you mouth to speak, to tell him it was nothing or that you’d had an awful day at work, you’d always been quite sensitive, he knew that, so the excuse of being yelled at in front of everyone at work would probably work, but no matter how much you tried to summon the words you couldn’t speak. The frustration just made it worse, the warmth from your emotional outburst and his natural heat made it hard to breathe. You pushed away from him, finally distancing yourself. But the implications of your action just intensified your blubbering, you felt like a child as you collapsed in front of him.

Bucky pulled you closer even as you tried to fight him off. You kept your face hidden behind your hair, but he started to peel it away from your damp cheeks. “There we go I can see you now.” He let out a halfhearted nervous laugh, smiling. His smile. Your chest tightened painfully, even through your drowned vision, the full intensity of his welcoming smile hit you like a pile of bricks. “What’s wrong, sugar pea? You can tell me, it’s just us.”

“I can’t- can’t tell you”

“Why not? We’ve know each other since we were kids, you can tell me anything.”

“You’re gonna- you’re gonna hate me.”

“I could never hate you. I’ve seen do a bunch of things and I’ve never once hated you.”

“I’m in love with you.” You blurted, your hands scrambled to your mouth covering it in fear of more words spilling out unchecked. The room fell silent and you heard Bucky’s breathing stop short. You’d ruined everything. Your whole chest ached as your heart beat ramped up, slamming against your rib cage, your ears ringing as the precious Eden you’d created with him began to crumble and rot. Neither of you said a word for what felt like forever, then he slowly pushed you away from him and he rose from the bed slipping on his shoes. “Wait, no don’t leave please.”

“You just had to go ruin it didn’t you? It’s like your specialty.” He turned to you sweeping his hand through the air as he spoke “ Y/N professional ruiner.” He scoffed as he returned to tying his laces “I mean God! You had one job! And it was to lay there and not talk, but you just had to open your mouth.” Every single poisonous word that fell from his tongue knived you.

You held onto his back trying to pull him back into bed “No please, please don’t leave me!” You cried, hardening your grip as he tried to stand.

“You’re so pathetically lonely, you always have been.” Bucky pushed you into the bed, holding your hands above your head as he glared down at you “You’re just like a dog you know that? A creature that can’t survive without its master. That’s what you’ve made me isn’t it? Your master. Well I can’t be anymore, the little doggy needs to realise that she can’t keep forcing people to be in her life, dragging people into her misery!” As he berated you you sobbed, trying to turn away from his scrutinising, to cover your ears. He was right, you were dragging him down into your misery. You were pathetic. You were harming him and his life by existing. “You know what? How about, as a parting gift, we do it one final time? Give the bitch what she wants? Would that make you happy? Would it finally fill that gaping hole inside of you?”

You nodded tearfully, gnawing down on your bottom lip to stop sobbing. It didn’t stop anything. In fact it just made the helpless feeling inside you fester.

He began tearing your clothes off, tugging at your shirt harshly making it catch your ear as he yanked. You resisted the urge to yelp, you didn’t want to anger him further. He tossed it carelessly and gave you a light slap on your cheek before squeezing your face in the palm of his hand. “You’re so pretty when you cry.” He let out a dark chuckle as he scrunched your face “You are pathetic aren’t you? I can’t believe it took me this long to realise just how pathetic you truly are. You can take off your skirt can’t you?” You whine out a yes and start to undo your skirt, but your eyes are drawn to Bucky undressing above you. You watch the muscle under his slightly tanned skin stretching and tensing as he removes his clothes. Once he was nude he looked down at you expectantly, catching your wander gaze with a stern scowl “Why are you still wearing clothes? I just told you to take your skirt off. Do it.” You scrambled to unzip your skirt, fiddling with the zipper. Bucky tutted, grabbing the sides of the fabric and tearing it apart “Simple.”

More tears filled your eyes as he yanked off your panties. You closed your eyes and thought back to the other times you were together in different hotels, how gentle he was as he stroked the soft flesh of your thigh and nibbled at your skin, whispering promises and praise as he approached your core. He’d stretch and tease you till you begged him for more and even then he’d be so very careful as he entered, pressing his skin against yours as much as possible just to feel even closer to you.

A searing pain shot through your scalp, making your eye shoot open, as he pulled your hair wrapped around his strong vibranium fingers “Face down, ass in the air.”

“Aren’t you going to prep me first?” You asked sheepishly, your voice not going above a whisper.

“Why the fuck- No. Just do what I told you to do. I’m hard, I want to fuck you.” He scoffed, clearly tired with your constant hesitations and questions.

Hesitantly you sat up and presented yourself to him, hoovering your face above the pillows. He pushed your head down, your heart jumped, fear blooming in your chest; for a brief moment you thought he was going to suffocate you, the reminisce of his smell on the pillows filling your lungs. He released your head, you lifted your face from the pillow slightly “Stay down.” He ordered sternly, sounding bored as his dripping tip pressed against your entrance. You did as he said, lowering your cheek back down on the cheap fabric of the pillow case; you began fiddling with the cream coloured fitted sheet, rubbing the fabric between the tips of you fingers. Waiting. Then you felt him push into you, a searing, stretching pain tingling through every fibre of your being as his thick shaft parted your walls. You weren’t as wet as usual, you weren’t as ready as usual, you were afraid of him in this moment. More afraid than you’d ever been in your life. “Fucking tight. God no wonder I keep coming back to you, it’s this pussy. It’s like silk.” He sheathed fully inside of you, ramming his weeping tip against your cervix.

“Ow! Buck, slow. P-please.” You requested timidly, stuttering out the last part fearfully, feeling a sense of uneasiness churn your insides.

He guffawed in response, leaning his head down to rest against your arched spine. Warm puffs of air made your hairs stand on end as he laughed at your request. Finally he rose back up, swiping a tear from the corner of his eye “Last time I checked whores don’t have much of a say in how their clients fuck them. Lay there and look pretty, moan for me, scream for me, but for fucksake whatever you do just don’t talk. You’re driving me crazy.” He pulled out in one Swift motion before slamming himself back inside, relishing in the cry that left your lips “I’m gonna use your little slut hole and you’re gonna thank me for it aren't you?” His voice deepened as he asked, changing his pace from long and brutal to shallow and fast. When you didn’t answer he slapped your ass harshly and clawed at your back leaving painful, searing red streaks “I said. You’re going to thank me, aren’t you.”

You choked on your tears as you answered, managing to croak out a very quiet “yes, Bucky.” Before burying your face back into the pillow in embarrassment from the sound of how ruined your own voice sounded. You took a deep breath in, taking in the lingering scent of Bucky’s cologne. Magnolia, vanilla, leather and petrichor. You chanted the list of fragrances, hoping it would carry you away to a better time. But the sound of his grunting, the sound of his skin colliding with yours and the painful, heavy sadness weighing on your head was too much for you to think back to the past. You were trapped here, under him as he ruthlessly pounded into you.

You felt his once loving cool, metal hand snake around your throat squeezing tightly, you began to choke spit flying from your mouth onto the already tear dampened white pillows “The one good thing about you is you feel so much better than her and you let me do whatever I want to you. You let me choke you.” Bucky gave your throat two strong squeezes before removing his hand to allow you to breathe “she- ah squeezing again? God I’m gonna miss this tight cunt. She’s so vanilla, only missionary, no blowjobs and I practically have to beg her to let me eat her out. But you, you’re a little whore, you'll do anything as long as I pump you full of my cock.” As he finished talking Bucky slammed his hips into your ass, watching it jiggle at the force. He craned his neck down and bit the supple flesh, grinding his teeth and licking the mark before returning to his thrusts, slapping your ass just to hear you yelp. You squeezed him even tighter every time he slapped your ass and with each moan and cry your voice sounded more and more ruined, you hated that even when he was treating you like dirt your body responded to him and he could draw this much pleasure from you.

The gradual heat that had been rising within you was becoming unbearable and the moans you have been trying to silence we’re now impossible to silence “That’s it. Scream for me.” A deep, guttural moan escaped from his open mouth, his hand on your hip growing stronger, to the point that you could feel bruises sprouting “Fuck. So close. So goddamn close, I need you to milk me with you tight hole.” Bucky’s metal hand moved away from you head and slipped underneath you, gathering your slick and fiddling with your clit with his thumb.

“Ahh! So good! So good, Buck!” His hand that was holding your hips buried itself in your hair before he yanked it at. You screamed in response to the burning in your scalp

“I said no talking you fucking whore!” You sniffled in response, feeling your release draw nearer. You pushed back against him choking out a moan as you came on his cock, your walls pulsing and squeezing around his twitching length. Bucky rammed into you a few more time with uncoordinated thrust, believing out a loud “Fuck!” As he painted your walls white. A whimper crawled from your throat as he pulled out; you could feel his seed leaking out of you. Bucky flopped down on the bed next to you pulling a few tissues from the bedside table to clean himself. An awkward silence permeated through the room. Not once after having sex with Bucky did you feel dirty, but today you did. You felt an indescribable urge to get home and scrub yourself till your skin bleed to even hope to remove the icky, gross feeling spread across your skin.

Slowly you lifted your head from the pillow and carefully laid down on your back, wincing as you reddened bottom came in contact with the quilt. You laid there staring at ceiling, tears making your vision swim. Bucky’s rough hand entwined with yours; he squeezed your hand twice and swiped the pad of his thumb across your knuckles tenderly “She’s pregnant. I thought I should tell you. She's gonna give me that family I’d always dreamed of.” The words that were crawling up your throat died, you died. Your body went rigid at the word, pregnant. Of course she was pregnant. The word made you sick, it made you jealous, it made you a crucible of contempt boiling over a bunsen flame—you were going to explode. “We'll, aren't you going to say anything? I’ve been wanting this for a long time. I thought you’d at least be happy for me.”

“Congratulations.” The voice that came out didn’t sound like you, It sounded robotic, metallic and forced. But that was all you could manage, if you said anymore you might snap and strangle him or go kill her. You hated yourself for hating her. But it didn’t make the nagging belief in the back of your mind that it should have been you. That it was destined to be you. He was yours, you were his. It was meant to be you at the altar, meant to be you telling funny stories at your wedding about how you were childhood friends that went to high school and college together, who both had brewing feelings that you both kept suppressed and when you finally both got the courage to confess you had to move for work, but destiny made it so you would both reunite and jump at the chance to confess. It was meant to be you.

“Thanks.” His tone was bitter “ I can stay a bit longer, but I’ll have to leave soon. She’s waiting for me after all.” He cuddled you close, stroking your hair, probably imagining you were her. Had he imagined you were her this whole time? Was it that painful for him to fuck you?

The amount of thoughts racing in your head made you want to step outside into the chilly night air to cool down, but now was your final chance to be with him and you weren’t going to waste it. You ran you hands across the corded muscle of his back, drawing soothing circles just like he used to do for you when you couldn’t sleep. When sleep made your eyelids heavy you barely put up a fight, you welcomed sleep with open arms, you wanted to be freed from the bleak, harsh reality and enter into a dream world where she was you. Yeah that sounded good.

“Bucky?” You called groggily. There was no reply. You crawled over to his side of the bed, it was still warm, and peered over the edge. His shoes were gone and so were his clothes. You laid back on the bed, your eyes catching sight of a torn bit of paper. You grabbed the paper and unfolded it, your hands trembling as you read it ‘I don’t want to see you anymore, please don’t bother my family. - James’ You read the words over and over praying they would change into another message, but it didn’t work. It only made the pang in your chest throb. You scrunched it in your hand as you curled up into a ball trying to disappear as you soaked up the shadow of his body heat, the memories of him that were lingering in that shadow—high school when he sat with you behind the bleachers in the rain and gave you his varsity jacket to warm you up “I’m your portable heater at this point.” He jested, letting out his signature low husky laugh that made you melt, college when he held you from behind as you cried into your pillow about your college senior boyfriend who dumped you, because he was graduating; you could still feel the phantom of Bucky’s warmth whenever you were sad thanks to that day. The day he stroked your hair and whispered into your ear that “He didn’t deserve you.” And that he’d “never make you feel like this.” Well he had so many times, he was right now. But it hurt even more now, it was over for good. You’d lost him, you were too many years too late and now you were just clutching to fleeting memories, but God if the feelings didn’t sting every time you thought about him. It was hard not to, he’d dominated every significant moment of your life. But now you were barred from his perfect little family.

Slowly you unscrunched yourself from the ball you’d folded yourself into, spreading your body out like a starfish drying out on the beach. Your throat was scratchy from crying and your eyes were heavy and swollen. Everything hurt, but simultaneously you were so numb.

You thought of showering, you thought of searching through your bag for some pain meds, you thought of driving your car off the bridge back to the city. You thought a lot, as you laid there staring at the yellowed patches on the popcorn ceiling from water damage.

You thought so much and so hard that you didn’t even notice you’d started crying, again, you were drowning in your emotions. You were huddled in a lifeboat slowly filling with water, with no sight of land. You were waiting for him to save you, but he wasn’t coming back “I wanna be yours. Just wanna be…”

A disembodied voice continued “Yours. Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought.” The sweet sound of the man’s singing stops “I thought we were gonna sing together, sweetheart.” There was a soft knocking on the wall next to your head “No more crying okay? Guy was a dick anyway.”

“Who are you?” You questioned, sitting up and pressing your ear against the paper thin wall

“A person who’s also been left out to dry, a person who also needs someone to stop me from drowning. If you want some comfort I can come over; we can just lay here, Y/N.” The way he said your name brought back so many memories, you knew who he was

“Ari?” You asked hesitantly, the man who Bucky said didn’t deserve you all the way back in college was on the other side of the wall. He’d listened to everything. You wanted to evaporate.

The door knob of your room jiggled and then the door creaked open. In the doorway was Ari, droplets of rain trickling down his skin. He dipped his head down so he didn’t hit it as he entered your room, his brown hair was a bit longer than it was in college, his beard a bit fuller, he was much more muscular and his chest was more hairy; but for the most part he was the same, he even still had the same crotchety, yet solemn look on his face “Hiya, Sunshine.” His voice was low and soothing, as if you were the finest China that he was worried about shattering. He closed the door gently and walked over to the side of the bed, crouching down to try to make his bearish figure smaller and less daunting “Long time no see. didn’t think the next time I’d see you would be in a shoddy motel, but life is nothing if not unpredictable, right?”

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Not you calling Lloyd’s pornstache a furry little monster! 🤣 I almost cried, this actually made my day.😂

🎃Lloyd x Reader: Pumpkin carving Drabble🎃

Warnings: knife play, mostly fluff, reader has sensitive ears, hand kink, scent kink, reader being a brat, marking/ hickeys/ biting, implied smut

Nicknames: Pumpkin

A/N: A spooky little treat before the next Monstertober day

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

“How did I let you convince me to do this again, Pumkin?” Lloyd questioned in a huff, he stood in the doorway wearing his tight black turtleneck, which was your favourite, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his hairy, bulky arms, his vein rippling out of his skin like lightning bolts trailing down to his calloused hands.

“I promised you a reward afterwards.” You giggled passing him a kitchen knife, which he began chucking up and down “Lloyd that’s dangerous.” You warned, he smiled at the concerned look on your face

“I know what I’m doing, Pumpkin.” He threw it up in the air one more time, bumping the handle with his elbow as it fell, catching it with his hand and pointing it towards his pumpkin “You’ve got everything set out so nicely, like a little housewife.” He cooed, pulling you close and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at his comment. You, a housewife…for him. You liked the idea, you couldn’t deny that; but the way he said, it like his words held so much more meaning behind them. You always loved when he complimented you, it made you feel so special. Nothing else in the world mattered except what Lloyd thought, what Lloyd said—he’d made you completely reliant on him. “L-Let’s get started…That pumpkins yours and this one's mine.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, Lloyd smirked at your brushing his large hand across your forearm before pulling his pumpkin closer to him on the newspaper. You followed suit, picking up your knife and beginning to cut a circle around the stem of the pumpkin—you had much more difficulty than Lloyd as tried to cut through the tough skin of the pumpkin.

“Are you sure you’re allowed to do this?”

“Of course I am! I know how to use a knife, Lloyd. I'm not a child. And then we can make pumpkin bread after this.” You huffed turning away from him and continuing to cut into the pumpkin.

Lloyd grabbed your chin turning you towards him “No, I mean because you’re a pumpkin; so this is murder and cannibalism. I never knew you were so devious, Pumpkin.” You opened your mouth to reply but no words left your mouth, you just stared at him with your mouth hanging open. He let you go and resumed carving his pumpkin, you closed your mouth and returned your own pumpkin, pulling the center out before you began digging out the seeds.

Your gaze drifted over to Lloyd as he held onto the pumpkin with one of his hands, the muscles shifting under his skin as he squeezed the skin of the pumpkin. The golden ring on his pinky finger glimmering in the light catching your attention briefly as you remembered the time he slipped it on to each one of your fingers trying to get it fit “it only fits your thumb, Pumpkin, you’re so tiny compared to me…Don’t worry I'll get you a ring just like this one so we can match.” He did get you a ring to match, it was perfectly tailored to the size of your pinky. Your eyes travelled up his arms, watching as his biceps tensed whilst he used a spoon to scoop out some of the pumpkins innards. You had to look away to stop yourself from drooling, Lloyd knew you were watching. He was taking his time on purpose, squeezing the firm outside of the pumpkin and intermittently letting out a soft grunt to toy with you. He loved to see the way you practically salivated over him—he always knew you adored his hands, his scent, his eyes, his body. He knew The parts you liked about him so he abused your weaknesses just to be able to watch you stumble over your words; just last week he caught you spraying some of his new cologne on one of his hoodies you’d stolen, so he instantly bought more of it. Lloyd broke the silence “I’m all up in this pumpkin's guts. Kinda like I was last night with you-“ You pout grabbing some of the mashed up pumpkin and throwing it at him “Hey! No throwing the pumpkin. God, it smells so bad.” His face contorts into disgust as he wipes it off his black turtleneck grimacing at the texture and wetness as he throws it on to the newspaper-clad counter.

You giggle, letting a devious smile spread across your lips “Then don’t be such a perv, we’re meant to be doing a wholesome activity for once.” You cross your arms and arch an eyebrow at him.

“There’s nothing wholesome about the way you were looking at my hands, Pumpkin, don’t think I didn’t see you.” Your face heats up in embarrassment and without thinking you smear your pumpkin covered hands across his stupid attractive face “Oh that’s it!” Lloyd picked up the knife he’d been using to carve the pumpkin and hovers it underneath your chin, gently gliding the blade against the delicate soft skin of your throat, the juice of the pumpkin on the knife leaving a sticky trail “I’ve played nice for long enough, now it’s time to have fun. You like that idea don’t you, Pumpkin? Your thighs are clenching. I decided to be nice and play along with your desire to carve pumpkins, and you return the favour by being a brat.” He leans down to your ear, his hot breath fanning at the sensitive skin “Good thing I like it when you’re a brat.” He whispers, rubbing the bristles of his moustache against the shell of your ear, relishing in the whine that escapes from your lips as he sucks on your earlobe. He knows it’s sensitive, he’s teasing you. You wipe your hands on the tea towel you’d set out and then rest your now clean hands on his shoulders for support as he continues to attack your sensitive ears. Lloyd moves down from your ear to your neck, licking a stripe from your jaw to clavicle. He settled at your collar bone, suckling at the thin skin and running it through his teeth. You buried your fingers in his cropped hair, fiddling with the styled top till strands of his hair were falling onto his forehead in curls.

You rub your thighs together, relishing in the friction, as he drags the knife down your neck to your torso, pressing harder so you can feel the blade through the crew neck of his that you were wearing. He drew crescents beneath reach of your breast before travelling further down. Lloyd pressed hot opened mouth kisses to your throat as he bunched the sweater at your hips “Only panties? How naughty.” Lloyd purred, sucking a hickey into your neck.

He ran the cool blade of the knife along your thigh, bringing it ever so close to the apex of your hips tracing your folds with the blunt side of the blade before running it back up your torso, across your chest and back to your neck; outlining your collar bones then your trachea and settling just below your jaw. He stared down at you, you swore those eyes could see into the depth of your soul. You followed the slate outer ring that faded into a bright blue—one glance into those eyes made any bad day better. His pink lips curved into a smile and he pulled the knife away from your throat, raising the blade in the air threateningly.

Lloyd stabbed the knife into his pumpkin and then picked you up, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck. He gave you a quick kiss “We’ll finish carving later, I want my reward now.” He kissed you again, but this time he deepened it; slipping his tongue into your mouth intertwining it with yours before catching your bottom lip with his teeth and tugging at it “What do you say, Pumpkin? Want me to be all up in your guts?”

‘I’d like that.” You titter as he strides with you up the stairs towards the bedroom. Pumpkin carving will have to wait after all.

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