My Girl

Thanatosis 🦋

Part 1 : Holometabolous metamorphosis🦋

thanatosis- commonly known as ‘playing dead’ or tonic immobility, is a protective behaviour of animals and insects in which all voluntary activity is ceased and posture suggesting death is assumed. it occurs when disturbed.

Pairing: soft! Mafia! Biker! Bucky x innocent! victim! reader → dark! Mean! Mafia Biker! Bucky

Warnings: Non con, Stockholm syndrome, victim blaming (reader blames themselves), crying, pleading, abandonment issues, alcohol, name calling, dark!Bucky, mean!Bucky, Beefy!Bucky, innocent!reader, manipulation, abuse, bruises (not the kinky kind), thoughts of suicide, dacryphilia, punching, slapping, mentions of blood, heavy angst, fluff (at one point then it’s downhill from there)

Nicknames: бабочка (butterfly), stupid, ugly, worthless, whore, dumb, crybaby

The relationship depicted is not healthy at all. If you are experiencing a situation similar to this, please contact an abuse hotline, womens shelter or your doctor who can get you help. Stay safe.

༻ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐀𝐬𝐤𝐬 ༺

I am where I belong. My eyes drift open. I’m not on the floor. I’m not in my apartment, my cocoon. Instead I run my hand over fresh, expensive iron coloured sheets, I smell the air. Musky magnolia wood. I tap next to me, the bed is empty. But it’s warm. I swivel my head anxiously, but I’m alone. I plant my hands either side of me and push myself up, the world around me is fuzzy and my head buzzes painfully. I’m not dead. He saved me. He loves me. I need him.

The door clicks open, and in walks Bucky holding a cup of coffee. His sculpted jaw is set in a solemn expression, but his lips pull into a smile when his eyes meet mine “бабочка you're awake.” His voice is hoarse and just above a whisper, he sounds as if he’s been crying. He cautiously steps forward, scanning his eyes over me for any movement. I throw the cover off and practically leap off the bed “please, doll, I won’t hurt you. I should have never come near you whilst I was like that, I become a completely different person.” His reasoning stops as I limp around the bed and attach myself to his leg. He places the coffee down and attempts to remove me, but my grip tightens on his thick calf and my sobs grow louder as I let out incoherent pleads for him to stay. For him to never leave me again, promises that I would be good, I would be better, I would be whatever he needs, that I was stupid, that I was forever his.

We sit there for what feels like forever, on the carpeted floor. He rocks me back and forth gently, trying to console me, trying to stop my pleas. I do stop eventually, when he strokes my hair and holds me in his arms like a small child; whispering sweet nothings to me apologising like a prayer, his salty tears dripping down on to my face joining my snot and tears that leak on to the fresh clothes he’d put me in. He tries to wipe at the damp spot, but I nuzzle further into him, body weak, tiny next to his, shaking like a tree in a hurricane holding on to him for stability “I’m going to be better to you бабочка. You didn’t deserve that, okay? It wasn’t good, it wasn’t what you deserved; you’re precious I need to protect you my beautiful, beautiful fragile little butterfly.” His butterfly…I’ve always been his butterfly he thinks I’m beautiful he wants to protect me, my fresh wings are still unfurling. I’ve been born a new from my cocoon and now my life begins with Bucky. Bucky is good, I belong to Bucky “Are you okay now бабочка?” He asked, his face full of concern as I stared helplessly up at him, my eyes puffy, full of tears and face red nodding slowly. He stoops his neck and kisses me with all the tenderness and passion that was void from last night. The coldness that had seeped into my bones from being abandoned on my glum, dingy bathroom floor began to subside as Bucky’s tongue explored my mouth with his hot tongue. His kisses had always made me breathless, but now his hypnotising effect was doubled. I craved him so intensely.

I grabbed at his grey crew neck with my small hands, rubbing the fabric between my fingers as I pulled him even closer “Bucky.” I mewled, breaking gtg kiss and buryin fly face in the crook of his neck taking in his musky scent.

“I’ll never hurt you again бабочка, I promise you.”

It had been days since I’d first woken up in his bed and now it was an everyday occurance, he’d decided he didn’t want me staying in my apartment anymore, citing the bad memories and how depressing the space was as his reason. The past few days had been the best, he had cuddled with me on the couch continuously—wrapping me in soft blankets, kissing me constantly, always touching me in some way. Always praising me. Always telling me how much he loved me. He had to go out tonight to meet with the members of the gang, he told me not to call it that; he constantly says they’re not gangsters— though the whole of Brooklyn and the people he hangs out with would say otherwise. He wants to protect me, not to scare me…so thoughtful I remark.

The front door slams shut, I hear the sound of Bucky’s keys being tossed into the bowl on the chest of draws near the door. I turn off the TV, slip out of my cocoon of blankets and head for the door to see Bucky, pure adoration in my eyes. He’s kicking off his shoes, he looks up to see me and there is none of the usual warmth in his face. Blood is dripping from his temple, he has a cut across the bridge of his nose and his hair is dark and wet with sweat. His hands are trembling. No they’re thrumming. He’s furious, his breath is ragged like an animal sizing up its prey. His flame is burning brighter, harsher, hotter than ever. The adoration slips away. “бабочка. Come here.” He commands in a growl, I’m frozen staring at him like a deer in headlights. The smell of whiskey and a blend of other alcoholic beverages reaches my noses causing it to rinkle, he’s been drinking again. He promised not to “бабочка! I said come here are you FUCKING DEAF YOU WHORE?” He bellowed as he threw his suit jacket to the wooden floor. I took off down the hall to the bathroom, the only room with a lock. He caught up with me easily, slamming my head into the door as my hands desperately shook the knob trying to get it open. The pain from the impact sent shockwaves of dull pain across my nerves and caused white dots, dripping with colour to blot my vision. The door swung open and Bucky crashed into the floor, I clung to the door. I can lock him in. I pulled the door closed, but his fingers wrapped around it trying to pry it open as I was shutting it. I smashed his fingers in the door frame and he howled in response, using all of his strength—which was much more than mine—to slam the door into the wall. I’d failed, my only chance to get away. My face heated up tears blurring my vision as my lip wobbled pathetically just like my legs. They were jelly below me.

“No Bucky. No.” I cried fighting against his tight grip on my forearm, scratching at his face. He bit down on my finger. I screamed as he pushed me to the ground.

“Bedroom or here Bitch?” He asked lacing his fingers into my hair as I pummelled at his knees “FUCKING ANSWER ME!” Bucky demanded tugging at my hair enough to tear out strands. I yelp and weep in response, digging my nails into his forearm. Clawing at him. Begging for him to let me go “Fine. We’re doing it here.” He huffed releasing my hair and shoving my head into the ground. I was laying half way between the hallway and the bathroom, I tried to crawl away. Raking my nails across the wood, the awful scratching sound drowned by the deafening thump of my blood rushing past my ears. He grabbed my legs, bending them at the knee and pushing them painfully till the ball of my heels dug into my butt. He pressed harder into my bent legs as he draped himself over me, pressing his face to my ear, the beginnings of scruff on his jaw scratching the shell of my ear. “Try to get away and I’ll snap your little legs like chopsticks.” He threatened, spitting in my face as he rose back up, tearing my shirt in half and throwing it. I began to sob as he let me lay there helplessly on the ground, splayed out like a starfish on the beach. He tore my underwear as well, tossing the torn fabric carelessly like a used rag. I choked out painful sobs, as a tangle of cries and pleas ached in my throat trying to crawl out of my open, dribbling mouth. He shoved his fingers inside me roughly, causing a burn to radiate through me. It was so dry down there. He scissored his fingers twice before giving up and spitting on his cock, pumping his hand across his length a few times. That’s when the last sparks of adrenaline kicked in. I kicked him where it hurt, he yowled in agony as my foot connected with his balls. I clumsily got to my feet, pain shooting through my legs with every floundering step. I clung to the wall limping towards the front door. It was so close. I could fly free.

The flame burnt my wings. His fist connected with my temple and I collided with the oak wood, I traced the wood grain with my finger as my thoughts faded away. It’s Hopeless, like me. He turned me over and my unfocused eyes met his intense dark glare, his eyes were verging on black as his blue iris was swallowed by his insatiable black holes of pupils. The punches began. He pounded my stomach ruthlessly, then he threw a jab at my already bruised ribs, the metallic taste of iron rose in my throat and I coughed. Blood and spit smeared on my chin. He moved up to my face, slapping it over and over with the front and back of his hand—at least he isn’t wearing rings today— is the only thing that came to mind as I wordlessly let him hit, slap and scream. He soon got bored of it, the only thing that entertained him was the silent tears that streaked down my cheeks. He lapped at them like an animal; the heat of his tongue stinging my cheeks that he’d just finished slapping. I am where I belong. I am where I belong. IAMWHEREIBELONG. I try to reassure myself, the chant in my head almost overpowered the sound of his grunts and groans as he entered me. I broke my silence letting out a high pitched wail as he sheathed himself fully inside. I still couldn’t move. My body was frozen in place, my limbs felt as if they were pinned down by sandbags as I futilely tried to lift them. He continued his thrusts “Scream for me бабочка. Cry for me бабочка. You look so pretty when you cry, my little crybaby.” He chuckled as he cooed and ran his hand across my tear stained cheek. They way he said it sounded as if he was praising me, as if he wasn’t raping me in the hallway. As if my blood wasn’t the only thing making him slick enough to thrust. As if he wasn’t burning me. He promised he wouldn’t do this again. But the cycle repeats again.

Maybe I deserve this. He cares for you. My thoughts are disturbed by a distant voice. He loves you so much, this is what love looks like. He loves our wings, he burns us so beautifully. We can’t survive without him. We need Bucky.

His moans disturb my thoughts, he’s close I feel his cock twitch inside me. I let out a stifled sob “please stop.” My begging came out in a voice so small that it could be confused with the blowing of this wind, but he heard me. How could he not? He’s been staring intently at my face waiting for me to say something, anything, whilst he splits me open. His lips twitch into a smile as he picks up the pace earning a sob from my lips. His nails dig into the scabs from before, tearing them open causing blood to leak down my sides. I begin to regain feeling and the pain is atrocious. The white hot pain from where we are connected makes me try to reach out and grab him, pins and needles stab at the muscles in my arms as I begin to flail. I want to die. The pain is excruciating. Every part of my brain screams at me to get away from him. Stupid little moth. I curse. You flew too close to the flame and now look at you, pinned beneath him being fucked like a rag doll. Stupid, ugly, worthless little moth.

Maybe this is death, this is what death feels like. Painful until it’s not. Full of sadness until it’s not. Until it’s nothing but a dark hellscape to replace this hellscape. If I am dying I want it to be now, before he cums in me, before his warmth fills me. I want to die. I want to be an insignificant, little moth living my days chasing the brightest lamp; until I can curl up on some shitty windowsill and die, body stiff and useless—thrown in the trash or out a window. Or maybe this isn’t death, maybe I’m already dead and this is limbo, my own personal train platform before I get my ticket to heaven or hell. Maybe metamorphosis really did turn my fucking brain to soup, idiotic moth.

Give in to him. The pain will go away if you give in. The voice calls again, but this time I listen, closing my aching, heavy eyelids and the world around me fades.

And now I am where I belong. I thought I had completed metamorphosis before, how naive I was. As I sit upon his lap, head empty aside from the thought of Bucky, as he absent mindedly thrusts himself into me during his meeting. I suck at his neck, soaking in his scent. Babbling his name, moaning. Now my brain is soup seasoned by thoughts of him. Only him. I’m not dying, my life has only just started. He freed me from my cocoon because he loves me, he loves my wings, I’m his pretty moth. The cycle will repeat again, but for now I know that I am where I belong, with Bucky. I am his play thing, everything he does shows me he loves me. I’m just stupid, I need him to protect me. His flame burns me so sweetly. Without him I’ll die, he keeps me warm. The bruises hurt to remind me to be good, that he knows what’s best for me because I am where I belong.

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

Omg, wait, you’ve given me an idea 👀

Never stop chasing me 🐕

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: Overprotective!Ransom, softdom!Ransom, angst, Beefy!Ransom, mentions of mean!Ransom, cunnilingus, praise, body worship

Nicknames: Puppy

Word count: 2.9k

You’ve been in love with Ransom for as long as he could remember. It was obvious to everyone around you, even to him but he ignored it. He liked feeling wanted. He liked the look of pure admiration in your eyes. He liked how you’d follow him around like a puppy. And he loved your adorable jealous face when he flirted with others. But lately you haven’t been coming around, you’ve been avoiding him completely. Then he sees you with another man. He can’t bear it, he needs you back.

Master list

Tag list🎀

Wherever Ransom went, you weren’t far behind. At the country club? You were there. At social events? You were there. Shopping for new clothes? You were definitely there; carrying his bags, giving opinions on outfits and keeping him company. Your behaviour had earned you the nickname ‘Puppy’, well at least, that was what the nicer people called you. Others, who were less nice, called you a more explicit word of the same origin. The nickname had stuck, even Ransom called you it now ‘Puppy, carry this.’ or ‘Puppy, follow me.’ or ‘Puppy, put that down’ They’d all become frequent commands. He liked having a little puppy to follow him everywhere, despite him disliking dogs—he liked you, though he would never show it. He loved the fact that no matter what he did you’d always run back to him. He adored the sad puppy eyes you always gave him; whenever he abandoned you to go off with others or whenever he said something inherently mean to you like insulting your outfit, hair or just general appearance that day—he loved the sight of tears threatening to spill from your big eyes and your lip quivering at his insults, it was one of his favourite activities. He felt powerful when he did it, something he always lacked at home—but you slotted right into that category of need perfectly. He valued your friendship deep, deep down in his seemingly non existent heart. He refused to show it though, because to show it was to admit that he needed you and he didn’t need anyone…Or did he?

Then it began, your absence from his life. Usually, you’d show up at his house everyday. Just as his last fuck stumbled out the door, you’d be waiting; ready to help him clean himself up, draw him a bath, clean his dishes, scrub and tidy his house and make him breakfast. Today you didn’t show up, he waited and waited and you never came. He thought about calling you, but he refused to bring himself to that. He was too pompous to do it, despite needing you, despite being completely useless without your presence. He thought it would just be today, that maybe you’d forgot or you somehow had something more important to be doing with your measly little life.

But then it happened the next day, and the day after that and then just like that a week had passed. A bleak, lonely week. He sat snuggled in a sweater on one of the cushiony, cream chairs next to the roaring fireplace. He’d been on the same page of the latest fashion mag for almost an hour, staring blankly at the model; pretending to himself that he was reading it and that he totally was not waiting for you to reply to his 30th text or 50th missed call.

He had caved on the third day. He couldn’t bare the silence any more. It was making him antsy, his leg was continually bouncing and for the first time in forever he’d begun biting his nails again—a habit he’d had to try so hard to curb. God damn he missed you. He missed your presence, the soft chime of your sing-song tone, the light pitter patter of your feet as you followed closely behind him and your scent—he missed that most—it was so comforting, he’d instantly relax when he smelt you. He was crumbling without it. He threw down the magazine, onto the small black table that divided the chairs, in frustration throwing his head back, resting an arm on his forehead and letting out an elongated Ughh. He was bored and lonely. Argh he hates that word: Lonely. Why the fuck should he, Hugh Ransom Drysdale, have to be lonely? It was a ridiculous concept. The words Drysdale and lonely do not align, they should never be placed next to each other. It was sacrilege. But somehow it happened.

He needed to fuck someone.

That was the conclusion he had come to, that’s why he was here at ‘Miss Scarlet’ ‘The hottest bar in town’ is what every stupid tourist site called it. To Ransom, it was exclusively known as ‘the bird nest’ because it was one of the only places he went to pick up women. Aside from the country club, of course, but he'd almost run entirely through its supply of hot milfs looking to cheat on their husbands. So now he was here, nursing a drink whilst he flirted with a hot blonde at the bar. That’s when he saw you. More dressed up than he’d ever seen you before, giggling at a guy's jokes, touching his arm whilst he kissed along your delicate face. He squeezed the glass in his hand so hard that it threatened to shatter. He slammed his glass into the polished bar top, leaving his maraschino cherry. And he never left his maraschino cherry.

Before he knew it he was striding over to you, uncaring about the looks he was getting as he parted the crowd like the Red Sea to get to you. You were stunned at the sight of him; his eyes narrowed, dark and dangerous, chest heaving, hair slightly tousled and nostrils flared as he stood tall, towering over you and the man you were fooling around with “Get up, Puppy. We’re leaving.” He demanded, waiting for you to comply. You remained seated “Puppy. Get up. Now.” He ordered sneering at the fact that he had to repeat himself, he had never had to do that with you. You had always followed commands the second they were uttered. You ignored him for the second time, he was livid. “Hey you. Yeah you, fuck face, who else I’m I talking to? Take a fucking walk okay? Just piss off.” the man shifted in his seat but you grabbed his wrist, looking at him with your puppy eyes. That broke him.

His pride took the back seat, as walked into the booth seizing your wrist and using little of his strength to pull you in his chest. His other hand drifting to the small of your back, your scent hit him. Fuck he needed you, more than he’d needed anyone before. He’d never noticed how much bigger he was than you, how he practically engulfed you. It made him hard. He picked you up, cradling you in his arms- as if you were a fragile baby—and grabbed your stuff before marching out of the bar towards his prized BMW. He set you down in the passenger seat and then got into the drivers side. You started to frantically pull at the door handle, trying to get out of here. You couldn’t be in here with him, you could feel all the words you’d wished you said tangling inside you; getting trapped in you throat forming a painful lump as your lip wobbled and tears rolled down your cheeks “Open the door! Ransom!” You thought you sounded fine aside from when you said his name, your voice quaked and you let out a little whimper. He noticed though and it made his heart ache at the sound of your pain. Finally you gave up on the door.

“The child lock is on, you won’t be running from me, Puppy. I need to talk to you, let’s get to my house first.” You didn’t respond “Do your seatbelt up.” You made no movement to do so, crossing your arms over your chest and looking out the window. Ransom leaned across you, buckling you in. He swiped at the tears on the cheek facing him, telling you it was going to be okay before turning the key and starting the drive back to his house.

You were silent the whole journey, aside from your sobs that you attempted to muffle in the sleeve of your auburn sweater. He put some calming music on low volume hoping to calm you. It didn’t work. Your sobs just became more ragged, he could see your whole body shaking in his peripheral vision as he pulled up to the house.

He immediately got out of the car, wasting no time as he practically ran to your side. Throwing open the door, swiftly unbuckling your seat belt and pressing you back into his chest, rocking you like an infant and shushing you as he rubbed soothing circles into your back. He locked the car and walked up to his house, struggling to unlock the door. He finally did, kicking the door open and shutting it ungracefully behind him as he entered the living room setting you down on the couch. He finally looked at your face. It was red and wrecked with tears and snot that you had attempted to rub away with your sleeve. You hiccuped as more tears came, the gravity of the situation crushing your chest pushing all your emotions out of you, you tried to cover yourself, to curl in on yourself so he couldn’t see your disheveled state as you unwound before him. He plopped down next to you and pulled you close “Y/N you need to look at me, okay? We need to talk about this. I need to know why you left.”

You slowly let down your arms “why I left? Ransom y-you k-know why I left.” You choked looking at him incredulously. He stared at you dumbfounded, he had no idea. “You make me feel s-so insignificant, you’re always so mean to m-me despite e-everything I do for y-you and you always ignore m-me and make me feel like I don’t even… I don’t even e-exist.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, you looked and sounded pitiful. You whimpered as his hand stroked your cheek, leaning into his cool hand for relief from the sweltering warmth that was stifling you.

“I never knew you felt like that. I was so lonely without you, Puppy.”

“Stop it.” You sniffled, face scrunching up in anger as you pulled away from his touch

“Stop what?”

“Calling me Puppy. I hate it. You always use it to make fun of me, you hate dogs Ransom so it’s your way of saying you h-hate me.” You mumble in a strained voice, a fresh stream of salty tears ran down your face as you choked painfully on the tight knot in your throat, a sob wracking your body as he squeezed you tighter into his muscular chest .

“I’m not making fun of you. I call you Puppy because you follow me around like one. I love you. This week without you made me realise that. I can’t be without you, my life falls to pieces when I don’t have you here. I love you, Puppy. I can’t see you with another man, it hurt so much and it made me so fucking angry.” He had to stop the anger from over taking him, he didn’t want to scare you, but just picturing that guy putting his lips on you made him want to ravish you. He began kissing your tears away and wiped your nose with a tissue from the table “No more crying okay? Because you’re making me cry too.” And it was true there were actual tears running down his face, for the first time ever he was actually crying. Your tiny hand cupped his face, marvelling at the tears that were actually falling from his eyes “I’ve known you loved me ever since we became friends. But I liked you chasing me.”

“You’re such an asshole Ransom.” You chuckled tucking yourself into the crook of his neck, he soon removed you.

“I know, but I’m your asshole, Puppy.” You swooned at the idea of him being yours, you’d always prayed the day would come when he’d say he loved you and now your dream had come true. His head dipped down just enough to be at level with yours and then he kissed you, curling his rough fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. It had started as an innocent kiss, but there was nothing innocent about the way his tongue crept into your mouth or the little moan you let out as he lightly tugged your hair. It metamorphosed into teeth and steamy gasps for air between kisses, your tongues thrashing together with insatiable hunger, as he pushed you back into the couch; your head resting against the arm rest as he continued to devour you. He finally pulled away and admired his handy work. Your lips were red and swollen and your eyes were clouded with lust, practically gawking at him as you shifted uncomfortably pleading for him to continue. Those puppy eyes would be the death of him.

He threw his cable knit sweater to the ground and slipped between your legs, tearing a hole in your tights and pushing your panties to the side. “Ransom you don’t have to do that.” You exclaimed, pushing at his head and squeezing your thighs closed, his strong hands parted them.

“Today is about you. I need to show you how much I love you, Puppy, and the best way to show you is with my mouth.” He ran his tongue between your dripping folds, he let out a deep moan when the taste of you reached him “So fucking sweet.” He growled, pushing his tongue into your clenching hole. One of his hands drifted down your clit, gathering some of your slick before circling the little bud of nerves as he attacked the spongy sweet spot inside of you. You threw your head back, your hands scrambling to take hold of his silky locks. Even his hair felt expensive. You drove your hips into his mouth forcing him further into you.

“Feels so good.” You pant as he pulls out his tongue and replaces it with his fingers, continuing to attack the spot that made your toes curl. His lips closed around your clit licking, sucking and biting ever so gently. He flicked his tongue over your pearl, relishing in your mewls

“That’s it, Puppy, you’re close. Come on my face. I want to taste you. Come.” He ordered, attacking you clit with new found vigour as your hips raised up off the sofa your thighs shook as the using warmth inside you came to its peak. You screamed as he abused your clit even through your orgasm, squirting all over his face. He lapped at you a few times before pulling away. Cold air kissing your tepid, wet pussy sending goosebumps across your skin. Ransom's face was glistening with your slick and his lips were swollen and red. He pulled your tights, underwear and skirt all at once and pulled your sweater over your head, leaving your nude body completely bare to his wandering gaze “you’re gorgeous.” He uttered, not intending for you to hear, stroking his calloused palms against your smooth skin, running his hand over every single curve and dip “I want to worship you, I’ll open a temple for just me and you because you are my goddess. I need to worship you.” You covered your face in embarrassment, he pulled your arms away from your face. “Don’t do that with me, Puppy, I want to see every single one of your beautiful expressions.” He cooed as he undid his pinstripe slacks and pulled down his boxers freeing his length that had been begging to escape, it was heavy and long with a thick vein tracing up the shaft. It twitched as he took a hold of the thick shaft, hovering it over your lower stomach “I’m going to fill you so we’ll, Puppy.” He rasped before nudging the head at your entrance. He pushed his whole length in with a grunt, his dick stretching your walls, relishing in your cries as your back arched further into him. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, sucking his shoulder. The scent of his cologne weaved it’s way into your lungs, it was an intoxicating woody magnolia with a hint of vanilla—he smelt like an expensive candle from bath and body works. It was so comforting. You nibbled his neck and he let out a groan and ruts so deep into you that your breath catches in your throat, you let out a high pitched yelp which melts into a moan as he grinds his tip against your cervix a mind numbing sensation blows through you as his nails dig into your hips his girthy cock perfectly rubbing against all the right spots.

your legs clamped around him, drawing him deeper into you, your fingers taking down his back leaving angry red streaks in their wake. You threw your head back, your mouth gaping open in a silent wail “You’re close, Puppy. Me too. Come whenever you want, I’m right behind you.” He moaned, bracing himself on his elbows on top of you.

“Gonna come! Gonna comeee Ransom!” You squealed, he squeezed your clit between his fingers. Plasmid starburst exploded behind your eyelids, sweat collecting at your clavicle as a pleasurable numbness coats your whole being. Ransom fucked you through your orgasm, his thrust becoming unquardinated reaching his peak with a grunt. His messed up hair, damp with sweat drags across your forehead as his lips connect with yours in a compassionate kiss. You let your eyelids fall closed.

Ransom cleaned you up with a warm rag and carried you up to his room, he wanted you to feel safe, to feel comfortable, to feel wanted. He stroked your sleeping face, trying to memorise your peaceful expression. He never wanted to see you upset ever again, he promised he wouldn’t cause you sadness. The only tears he wanted to see was from the pleasure he gave you “Never stop chasing me. I need you, Puppy.” He whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead and leaning back letting out a content sigh. All he needed was you.

Tag list: @alina02 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @cevansgurl @getwellsoontana

🍁🍪 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

My first time on a rec fic list! To be put next to so many amazing writers is actually making my heart race ily 🫣

- 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒 / 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐

𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫/ 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧/ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐢’𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠!!!

𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 • 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐

- 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐘 / 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒

𝘉𝘜𝘊𝘒𝘠 𝘉𝘈𝘙𝘕𝘌𝘚

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 ➵ @gothgirlmahi

𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 ➵ @historygeekfics

𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ➵ @sunshinebuckybarnes

𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 ➵ @searchforanotherway

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨 ➵ @p3sephone

𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 ➵ @deceitfuldevout

𝐜𝐮𝐭 ➵ @boxofbonesfic

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 ➵ @//straywords

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ➵ @bonkywobble

𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐫 ➵ @cryptidcasanova

𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐞 ➵ @octoberkait

𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 ➵ @cherienymphe

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 ➵ @earlgreydream

𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 ➵ @metalbuckaroo

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐡 ➵ @mrsdarkandyandere7

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 ➵ @bucky-barnes-diaries

𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘝𝘌 𝘙𝘖𝘎𝘌𝘙𝘚

𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 ➵ @welcome-to-my-multiverse

𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨 ➵ @rustytricycle

𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 ➵ @//mrsdarkandyandere7

𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦 ➵ @hansensgirl

𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐡 ➵ @jsrblue

𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 ➵ @petesey

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ➵ @marvelcriminalhoe

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➵ @//jsrblue

𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭 ➵ @//p3sephone

𝘌𝘋𝘋𝘐𝘌 𝘔𝘜𝘕𝘚𝘖𝘕

𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 ➵ @coveredinsweetpea

𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 ➵ @mypoisonedvine

𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 ➵ @inklore

𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞, 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 ➵ @littlest-dark-age

𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ➵ @//mypoisonedvine

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 ➵ @barnes-n-nobles

𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ➵ @ghoulsgraveyard

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 ➵ @cressidaclearwood

𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 ➵ @nexusnyx

- 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒

𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐨 ➵ @//metalbuckaroo

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲-𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬-𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ➵ @//bucky-barnes-diaries

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 ➵ @stuckybarton

𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ➵ @sunshinebuckybarnes

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ➵ @straywords

𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐳𝟑𝐝-𝐚𝐧𝐝-𝐜𝐜𝟎𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 ➵ @ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐤 ➵ @wannabemurdock

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 ➵ @holylulusworld

𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐞 ➵ @chrisdrysdale

𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞 ➵ @cellophaine

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐩𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐤𝐢𝐧 ➵ @buckspumpkin

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡 ➵ @angelltheninth

𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 ➵ @randomshyperson

𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 ➵ @mostlymarvelsstuff

𝐨𝐡𝐰𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐦𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐲 ➵ @ohwowimlonley

𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐬 ➵ @maximotts

𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐡𝐢 ➵ @gothgirlmahi

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 ➵ @buchanansbaby

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬 ➵ @buckyscombatboots

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ➵ @angrythingstarlight

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭-𝐚-𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐧-𝐮𝐩-𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 ➵ @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece

𝐩𝐬 • 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵.

𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘺. 𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪’𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 :)

Playing hard to get 3 🐰🐺

Part III (Restrained)

Part I (The Diner)

Part II (The Restaurant)

Playing hard to get master list

Pairing: Dark!Biker! Bucky x Reader

Warnings: dub con (but the reader is into it), size difference, Beefy!Bucky (he’s 6,2), country bunny!reader, restraints/bdsm/ropes, brat taming, scent kink, cunnilingus, overstimulation, threat of violence, knife play, begging, asphyxiation/ choking, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, lactation kink, marking, cream pie, praise, good ending

Nicknames: Bunny, BunBun, slut, mine

Word count: 3.2k

Master list

Taglist🎀

And so that brings us to the end of the ‘Playing hard to get series’ I wanted to thank you all for the support. There are more series to come and I may make continuations of this in the future.

Bucky’s piercing blue eyes finally drifted open, you just finished setting everything up. You were sitting on top of him, sliding your clit back and forth on the chiselled surface of his stomach. You lowered your face to his, nudging your nose against his gently. His tired features drew into a dopey smile, he pulled at the restraints attempting to grab your hips and grind you into him. His smile turned into a puzzled look, his brows drawing together as he tried again. Then it became as frown as he aggressively pulled at the rope “What the fuck is going on? You have 30 seconds to explain, Bunny.” He threatened lowly, glaring at you from below

“I don’t have to explain anything to you.” You allowed a pompous look to corrupt your features; to say you felt in power was an understatement. You felt like you had the keys to the kingdom. You had the dominant, cocky ruler of Brooklyn at your mercy. You cupped his bristly cheeks in your hands, before moving down towards his hardened cock. It was red and angry, a bead of precum decorating the smooth tip. You backed up on the thick veiny shaft dry humping him “How do you know Natasha?” You questioned.

“She used to run with us, but then someone she cared about got hurt and she decided she wanted a quieter life. It’s nothing serious or salacious, we were sworn siblings I guess.” He admitted he was being truthful. You nodded standing on your knees and sliding his leaking tip threw your folds; prodding it at your entrance before sitting back on top of his pelvis.

“Beg me for it, beg me to put your thick cock inside me Bucky. You always make me beg, now it’s your turn.” You moaned looking down at him, your face pulled into a cocky smile as you humped yourself against him. Soon enough that cockiness disappeared, as his metal hand flew to your neck squeezing tight enough to deprive you of oxygen as he spoke “I don’t beg for anyone. Not even you. You’re going to beg for me though, you’re going to be screaming, crying, begging like your life depends on it. Your pleasure definitely will. I’m going to edge you until the only word you know is my name, Bunny. Until you can’t walk and I’ll have to carry you. I’m going to ruin any other man for you.” He tightened his grip until your nails began to claw at his hand, watching as you wheezed craving oxygen. He threw you where he’d previously been tied “this is how you tie knots Bunny. Nice and tight.” He growled, pulling the ropes leaving barely any wriggle room “then you loosely twist there, pull it back through, pull as hard as you can, now the same with the other side, pull both sides. There. That’s really tight isn’t it. It’s a double fisherman’s knot, good luck getting out of that Bunny. it’s almost impossible to untie.” He spat.

He leaned over you towards the nightstand, flinging one of the draws open, he emerged with a knife. The black butterfly knife from the night you met. He threw it dangerously above you, catching it and tossing it around in controlled motions that resembled dance steps, it was graceful like a ballerina. He stopped, bringing his knife under your chin; stroking the blunt side against the column of your throat, you squirmed slightly, the danger making you nervous yet excited. He trailed down to the white strap of your bra “such an innocent colour for a naughty, slutty girl.” He cooed, swiftly cutting both the straps. You bite down on your bottom lip to muffle your moans as he hovers the blade above the swell of your breast, causing your skin to rise into goosebumps as he reaches the centre front of the bra cutting through it. The sound of tearing fabric filled the silence of the room and you whimpered, as your tits were exposed to cold air causing your nipples to stand erect in the chill; he circled them with the tip of the blade rubbing his hardened member against your thigh, as he dragged the blade down towards your panties. Your breath hitched as he pressed the blunt side of the blade to your clit, rubbing it ever so slightly before returning to the band of your lacey, white panties, hooking the blade under the fabric and yanking the knife. In one swift movement you were so close to being fully exposed to him. You squirmed again and his metal hand held your hips down “don’t move or it’s gonna hurt.” He stated firmly before doing the same to the other side of your panties. He discarded the ruined fabric, pausing to breathe in the scent of you, heady and aroused, before tossing it to join your ruined bra.

He trailed the knife on the inner flesh of your thigh, before placing the knife back on the bedside table and settling his face between your legs; hiking them over his shoulders, his hot breath fanning at your bare pussy. You squirmed, pulling against the bed frame, trying to wiggle your wrists. The rope rubbed against them burning “Bucky it’s too tight it hurts, please.” You whined, tears brimming in your eyes from the prickle of pain building in your arms from being above you head.

“You should have thought about that before you decided to tie me to the bed, Bunny, now I’m going to educate you. Very thoroughly. So that you learn your place.” He ran his fingers through your silken folds, dipping his fingers into your wet, pleading cunt. He took his slick covered fingers up to your clit, circling it slowly and squeezing it between his index and middle finger. You squeaked in response, trying to close your legs around his head. He wrapped his calloused hands around your plush thighs preventing you from doing so “look at you my sweet girl, dripping for me, pulsating. Too bad Bunny is misbehaving. Now I have to take it out on you.” The filthiness of his words made you wetter. Your back arches as his hot tongue comes in contact with your aching pussy, he lets out a groan which reverberates against your clit and you dig your nails into your palms—trying to buck your hips into his skilful ministrations. Sinful slurping sounds fill the room, almost drowned out by your debaucherous moans. You fought with yourself trying to maintain your dignity and choke down your moans. It was impossible. His skilful tongue scratched an itch you didn’t know you had, as he sucked and playful tugged at the sensitive hood of your clit with his teeth you sped up your grinding chasing your orgasm. You could feel the heat inside you building and building as he continued flicking his tongue against your desperate nub. All your inhibitions had melted away as you chased your release, you were moaning unabashed, you were on the brink, eyes rolling back into your skull. Then he pulled away. Looking down at his work with a satiated grin “That’s one. You have so many more to come, Bunny. I’m going to edge you till you are a mumbling mess.” He snickered at your pouting face, stroking your thighs before starting again.

He’d been at it for hours, bringing you to the brink of orgasm too many times to count and then pulling away. Your clit throbbed painfully as you thrashed in his grip, you had no idea what time it was, you barely even knew where you were at this point. The only thing you could think about was Bucky’s face buried between your legs, teasing you with his tongue as pain and pleasure bleed into one concept. You were desperate to cum, your head was stuffed with cotton and your eyes were puffy and red from tears of ecstasy and frustration. He’d barely spoken to you this whole time, Bucky had spoken, just not directly to you; he was talking to your pussy like it would respond, apologising to it, blaming you for this treatment.

You gripped at the ropes with your fingers as your hips began to thrash, trying to push your clit into Bucky’s face, trying to grind on any part of him to finally reach a complete orgasm. Your head was lulled to the side, drool and tears collecting in the crease of your elbow as you mumbled, begged and choked on your spit. Just as you were about to cum for the whoever knows manyth time he pulled away, his tongue jutting out to lick your juices which were smeared on his lips, he wiped his chin with his palm and finally looked down at his work, your pupils were blown wide, you eyes were glassy, and your gaze was distant. He waved a hand in front of your face and you just barely managed to look up at him. “Now say sorry, Bunny. Tell me that you're sorry for what you did and I’ll put my cock in your greedy little slut hole.”

“Mhm Sorwy…” you mumbled meekly, body still reeling from your last almost-orgasm. You were still a world aways from him, you still saw flashes of light, little stars, exploding in your vision. But his metal hand smacking into the soft flesh of your ass pulled you from your fantasy, you shrieked in response, closing your legs and you tried to crawl away from him. It was impossible. You were still tied to the bed. His hand came down once more at an angle drawing a yelp from your drool covered lips, fuzzy spikes of pain rippled across the inflamed skin as his hand gently rubbed the area he’d just brutally smacked.

“Again. Say sorry. Properly this time or I’ll hit you again and it’ll be worse this time, it’ll be a lot more than just two and I’ll keep on edging you until the sun goes down.” His hand lifted from your sore ass in preparation to hit you again.

“I’m sorry Bucky! I’m really really sorry for tying you up! Please I need to cum, need your cock in me rubbing all my favourite spots please.” You whined giving him a pleading look as your opened your legs wide for him.

“Such a good girl, my good little Bunny, so good at taking responsibility. Now it’s time for my good girl's reward.” He cooed as he swiped his fingers through your folds, collecting your juices and lathering his hard cock which had been taunting you this whole time. Your mouth hung open in anticipation for it to slide inside, for it to stuff you to the brim. But he didn’t put it in yet. Bucky rubbed the head of his cock against your clit, it was painful, but it felt so good you couldn’t help but let out little shrieks as you tried to squirm away. It was too much. Your clit was still so sensitive from the endless barrages of his tongue and fingers.

“Pleaseeeee” You cried lifting your hips with all the strength you could muster “In! Please!” Bucky pushed his head into you, then quickly pulled out. You squeezed your eyes, blinking away the tears to see his face. His lips were drawn into a devilish smirk, he was enjoying how slutty you were becoming for him as your craving for him to be inside you grew.

“Look at you so wanton, shamelessly presenting your pink, puffy pussy to me. You want me inside so badly don’t you?” You nodded your head furiously, his smirk only grew as your whines got louder. “I’ll give it to you Bunny. On one condition.”

“I’ll do anything! Bucky please!” You pleaded, pulling at the ropes in a futile attempt to get closer to him. He leaned in next to your ear, blowing. The colder air tickled causing you to thrash.

“Say you’re Mine. Say you’ll always be Mine.” He whispered and began to pull away. You surged forward, smashing your lips onto his. He surprisingly returned the kiss, chewing slightly on your lower lip as he pulled back.

“I’m Yours Bucky. I belong to you, now and forever. I want to be with you no matter what.” Just as you finished speaking he let out a low rumbling growl and slipped his cock into you, giving you no preamble as he began to thrust you came almost immediately. Squeezing around him and throwing your head back into the pillows, just barely missing the head board. Your spine curved and you dug your toes into the covers. Screaming as the most intense orgasm you’d ever felt steam rolled through your body. Your legs shook as you slammed back down into the mattress sobbing as Bucky continued his thrusts rubbing your sides soothingly

“Felt so good didn’t that Bunny. I give you the best pleasure don’t I? No one else will ever make you feel this way.”

“Yes Buck only you” you rasped as shockwaves continued to electrify every part of you. You clasped and unclasped your fingers, you wanted to hold him, you wanted to rake your fingers down his back. Bucky noticed, reaching over to the knife he had discarded on the nightstand earlier. He paused his thrusts, nestling himself deep inside, his tip rubbing almost painfully against your cervix as he cut the ropes. You waited for him to put the knife back before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, inhaling him as nipped and sucked at his neck nuzzling your smooth face against his stubble covered cheeks “Love you. Cum, wanna cum.” You mumble grinding your hips against his, he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Of course, Bun, I’m gonna get you pregnant. I want to see your belly swell with my little bunnies.” He responded, lifting his fingers to your mouth; you sucked on the briefly and he brought his hand down to your sensitive, throbbing bud rubbing it. Desperation flared in his eyes as he slowly pulled out, before returning to his original rapid pace, slowing at random intervals to grind against your sweet spot. He lets out animalistic grunts in response to your teary, squirming form below him. “I can’t wait for your tits to swell, for you to be dripping milk as you ride my cock like the little cock hungry slut you are. You're my cock slut aren’t you Bunny?”

“Yes!” You wail in response to his fantasies, that you are slowly craving to come true. He begins to pump harder, slamming his hips into you nibbling at your neck as you draw him closer with your arms. His whole body encompasses yours like an eclipse, all you can see is him and his beefy frame as he loses himself to his carnal desires “Close Bunny. You’re gonna cum with me aren’t you, I can feel your little pussy clenching around me. You want my seed to impregnate you, don’t you?” He ground his hips into your clit as he braced himself over you “Answer me.” He bellowed his face inches from yours, the storm in his blue eyes was violent, drowning his pupils that were blown wide with an unrivalled lust.

The look he gave, his body pressed against yours, and his distinctly manly scent sent you over the edge “Cumming! Cumming Bucky!” You cried, trying to choke down the scream that slipped past your lips as salt tears streamed from your eyes. You dug your nails into the skin of his back, ripping from his shoulders down to his sides as your body trembled and spasmed.

“Fuck.” He howled, gritting his teeth as he wildly pumped himself into your tight, fluttering hole. The way you squeezed him brought on his release, his cum painted your tight insides. His load just kept coming, he panted as he slammed shallow, harsh thrusts into you. You squeezed him tightly begging him to stop, screaming about how sensitive you were. Then it all went black, as you drifted into a warm, satisfied sleep.

You shifted on top of him, mumbling unintelligibly into the searing heat of his wide chest. You pushed yourself up, his large hand stroked the hair from your eyes

“Mornin’ BunBun, or should I say Good afternoon? You had a very good sleep.” He let out a deep chuckle, using his thumb to swipe the drool from your open lips. You panicked rubbing at your face “Calm down, Bunny, it’s cute. You’re so adorable. I really took it out of you didn’t I.” He had a goofy smile on his face as he sat up against the headboard, pulling you back against his warm chest. You admired the hard muscular plains of his chest as he rested your ear next to his heart. The soft thump calmed you.

“Did I pass out?” You questioned, looking up at him so innocently that Bucky swore it made his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, you needed your rest so I cleaned you up and got into bed with you.” He explained, stroking your shoulders with his large, rough hands.

“Thank you.” You muttered, a wave of awkwardness washed over you. What were you meant to do now? You were in his house, he’d fucked you all the way into the afternoon and you still didn’t know what your relationship was.

“You can talk to me, you know? I can see your face, you’re confused, worried even. Tell me what you're thinking.” His thick fingers came underneath your hair rubbing at the nape of your neck and scratching at your scalp. The feeling relaxed you almost instantly, you chewed on the inside of your mouth looking into his eyes. His look was genuine.

“What are we Bucky?” You asked lowly, you felt stupid for asking. But the fact that he was so important, he told you last night he owned half the city…it made you question whether this was meant to just be a passing fancy for him, or whether you were just a plaything for him until he got bored.

The scratching stopped, he looked stunned “I love you Bunny, I want to be with you forever…I called you Mine remember?” He questioned, seeming sad at the fact that you were questioning his love for you.

“I didn’t know if you were being serious or not.”

“I’m always serious when it comes to you. I want you to be mine and I want to be yours. I want you to have my children, all the things I’ve said have been true. So will you be Mine?” He looks at you with intensity, waiting on baited breath for your response. He almost looks like a puppy that’s being withheld a treat, the way his blue eyes look up at you with adoration.

You smiled mischievously “hmmm I don’t know Bucky.” You pondered sarcastically, turning your head away from him and cupping your chin comically in a thinking pose.

“Bunny. Don’t play hard to get.” A growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating against you.

You laughed in response, cupping his face in your small palm “I’m yours Bucky and you’re mine.”

Monstertober Day 3:

The Scarecrow walks at midnight

Pairing: Scarecrow!Ari Levinson x Reader

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, serious Non con, death, mentions of blood, asphyxiation/choking, bruises (not the kinky kind), Beefy!Ari (6,8ft), size difference, held down, chasing, p in v

Nicknames: Song bird, birdie

Word count: 2.3k

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🎀 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

AN: My apologies that this is a bit late, I had some health issues yesterday which really messed up my whole day. I ended up changing it from Headless horseman!Bucky to Scarecrow!Ari, because I had such bad writers block when trying to write it. I hope y’all enjoy and like all the Goosebumps references ♥︎

You pull up to The Stanley's farm, you’d know the Stanley’s for a long time. Everyone in this town knew everyone, that’s how it always been. Which is why, when Natasha sent you texts saying to come find her in a corn maze. You knew this was where she was talking about and despite the fact that it was technically closed right now, you knew the Stanley’s wouldn’t mind. You hopped out of the warmth of your car and into the autumn night. You loved the countryside, but you hated the fact that there were no lights. You only had the stars and the moon to guide you as you stumbled across the rocky path towards the corn maze.

It wasn’t far, you could see the sign, but you could also see a foreboding wooden cross standing outside the corn maze that you’d never seen before. You stopped in front of the wooden cross, running your fingers across the red paint chipping off the splintering wood. There’s nails with shreds of fabric still tangled around the posts; there was something hung up here at some point, a scarecrow more likely than not “The shity neighbourhood kids probably ripped it off” you huff “Always ruining everything, they threw paint in the plaza fountain only last week.” You drag your hand to the apex of the cross, it’s warm. Peculiar. You brush it off, despite your uncertainty, and look back at the text Natasha sent you.

I’m in the corn maze

Bet you can’t find me, scaredy-cat 👻🐈‍⬛

She had some nerve calling you a scaredy-cat, who in their right mind wouldn’t be scared to go alone into a bloody corn maze at midnight. It was pitch black, aside from the piercing light of the moon that parted the slate clouds that drifted across the inky, velvet blanket of the sky.

You stand infront of the en tree dance of the corn maze. It’s marked by an ornate metal sign, with chipping discoloured paint ‘Stanley’s Corn Maze’ it said in a faded orange paint. It felt like the beginning of a horror movie. Two friends enter a corn maze at night, now you just need a killer.

“Natashaaaaa” you sing “where are youuuuuu?” You’d been walking for what felt like forever, your phone was only on 4%. Nerves were starting to prickle in your belly “Come on I can’t find you! I give up okay so let’s go! I wanna watch a scary movie. Oooo maybe we can watch ‘Stay out of the Basement’ that’s meant to be good.” You hear the rustling of the dying corn leaves being pushed aside behind you, but still no reply from Natasha “Nat, if you’re trying to scare me it ain’t gonna work. I can hear you.” You spin around on your heel. It was not Natasha.

It was a man, he looked to be well over six foot tall. From where you were standing he was an Adonis; a halo of blonde hair and bulging muscle. He stepped closer, you remained still.

In the moon's pale light you could see the dirty blonde hair, tousled and scruffy with loose bits of hay and dirt tangled in his locks. He had a thick beard and moustache, but the glow from the moon still allowed you to see his prominent cheekbones. His firm chest strained against the thin fabric of his red, plaid shirt. You could see the contour of his torso and arms, he was covered in muscle and towering over you. As he stepped closer, further into the moonlight, you could see his face clearer; there were two messy stitches on either side of his mouth, clotted blood surrounding the punctures and strands of hay protruding from his skin. As he neared closer. You stumbled backwards. Fresh blood coated his thick, veiny arms all the way up to his sleeves rolled at his elbows, the cloth of his sleeves stained and dripping “Where are you going little bird? I want you to sing for me.” The stitched corners of his lips stretched into a smile as he lunged forward at you, his heavy body's ungraceful movements allowed you to dart past him into the thicket of corn. Your hands guarded your face defensively as you dashed through the corn, the brown, aged husks and leaves whipping at your exposed skin “Birdie! I’m gonna find you!” His bellowing voice pierced through the deafening sound of your blood rushing in your head.

You paused as your foot treads on something squishy, yet firm, you turn your gaze to the floor. Natasha. She’s beaten and bloody, clothes torn and her head appears to almost be severed from her shoulders “Nat…” you whimper, her eyes are still open. You hear the jostling of corn. You have no time to close them as you take off again, the bleak night air drowning you as you gulp it down like a fish. The burning tears dripping from your eyes burn your icy skin, you turn your head back to try to see him. He’s not there. You practically jump out of your skin as you hear a loud crack of thunder rumble around you, then cold drops of rain begin to fall. The drops that sprinkle across your skin send goosebumps across your skin, your hairs prickling to a point as you shiver.

You need to keep running, despite your exhaustion you find it within you to keep going. You can hear the corn rattling around you from every direction, you were so disorientated. As you jogged through the maze you reached down to your pocket to search for your dying phone, that’s when all hope drained from you. You’d dropped your fucking phone. The rain began to pick up, turning from a light dusting to harsh, thick droplets that fell with such speed that it hurt your skin. You came to a halt in a patch of newly formed mud, what were you meant to do? You felt doomed, you could no longer restrain the sobs that left you, lip wobbling as you choked on your sorrows.

One second you're standing, the next you’re tackled to the ground. Your shoulder collides with the sludgy earth and air catches in your lungs as you let out a choked yelp. You smash your hands into the Scarecrow's strong chest as you writhe against his fierce grip, he only needs one of his hands to overpower you and pin your hands above your head. You’re forced to look at him atop of you. His hair is glued to his forehead with sweat and the moonlight causes the thin sheen covering his skin to glitter like tiny diamonds. He bends closer to you, hot puffs of air from his heavy breathing suffocating you. He presses his face into the crook of your neck; the bristly hairs of his beard scratching against your neck as he licks at your neck, he shoved his nose into your hair and takes a long deep breathe in “Smell so good birdie, better than other woman. Ari’s gonna give you pleasure now.” You thrash against him kicking at him, he ignores it and bends one of your legs over his shoulder, “Lie still, Song bird, gonna make you feel so nice.” He grunts as you kick at his face, catches your ankle in his free hand and squeezes. His grip strength is inhuman. You shriek as you feel your bones creaking against the pressure he applies, your bones threaten to snap.

“Stop! Stop! I won’t kick you please!” You scream, the agony sending shocks across your nerves and to your brain, a dull ache lingering in your skull. He lets go of your ankle and lands a powerful punch to your gut, grit your teeth and grunt “Oof!” acidic sickness rising in your throat, you swallow it.

“Other girl wouldn’t stop screaming. Squeezed her too hard. Always squeeze too hard, it was an accident. Not gonna squeeze as hard with you, Birdie, like you, like your voice, like your scent. Want you alive.” His large hand tears your shorts and panties with one pull, the display petrified you but it also made your pussy drip. He ran two fingers through your fold, collecting some of your slick and bringing it to his mouth. He sucked his fingers clean of your cream, releasing his fingers with a loud pop “Taste so good. Need to fuck you.” Ari grumbled, undoing his jeans, releasing his member that slapped against his clothed stomach. It was long and ribbed with a thick purple vein running up the shaft and patch of pale blonde hair dusted his pelvis.

You moved your hips away from him. He hooks his calloused hand under your knee quickly and pulls you closer “No riggling, Birdie. Don’t wanna hurt you.” The fear freezes you in place and he takes the chance to thrust all the way inside you, smashing into your cervix causing you scream out and thrash as his dick crams uncomfortable inside you, he’s too big. You can feel the rubbed texture of his cock as your walls clamp harshly in an attempt to push him out. He pistons his hips without a care, unbothered by your body's feeble attempt at rejection. Your shrieks appear to fall upon death ears until he lifts you slightly by your wrists and then slams you back into the ground. Your brain rattles in your skull as your head hits the floor; a pounding pain throbs across the back of your head, and you look at him with a bewildered expression.

“No, Birdie, you’re meant to sing nicely. No screaming, or I’ll squeeze.” His scratchy knuckles brushes away the tears flowing down your cheeks. You nod and whimper, fighting the pain and letting out soft ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s as he continued his brutal pace, bending closer to you pushing your legs into you, angling your hips so he could thrust even deeper. Spearing you all the way to the hilt of his girthy length, you let out a guttural cry as he grunted and groaned in response to his own wild thrusts. Heat spread across your back as his pelvis rubbed against your clit “Tight.” He growled, pressing a kiss to your temple, he smelt strongly of hay and dirt, but underneath that strong scent of petrichor was a uniquely manly musk. Your pleasure was interrupted as his hand released your wrists, he slammed his fist into the ground, snarling as he thrusted. The hand holding your knee squeezed extremely tightly, you could feel bruises forming under his touch.

“Ow! Ari! Squeezing too tight!” You yowled, he was going to snap your knee. You dug your nails into the back of his neck, his pace slowed; his hips stuttering as he came to a stop entirely.

“Sorry, SongBird. Won’t squeeze anymore.” For a man…Scarecrow who was raping you he was being surprisingly considerate. He rubbed the pad of his thumb against your reddened cheeks soothingly before pulling out all the way to his tip before ramming back into you, hard enough for your body to slide around in the mud below you. Your lungs burn and your throat is raw. You bite back a scream when his bulbous tip collided with your cervix once again “Close. So close. Sing! Sing for me Birdie!” You whimper and let out an involuntary moan as his cock rubs the sweet spot within you. His barred teeth soften into a smile at your moans, his free hand comes to neck and he begins to squeeze. You remember Natasha, the way her head laid in a pool of blood. How you could barely see any remnants of her neck. You began to thrash once again, Ari ignored you, lost in his own pleasure. You could feel his cock twitching inside, in your mind you pleaded for him to come. For it to be over. His thrusts quickened even more, his hips bashing painfully into your ass. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin overpowering the crackle of thunder. He threw his head back and let out a full bodied groan, which resembled a roar as he came inside you. The ropes of his come were cold, just like his whole body-ice cold, the amount of his spend was unrelenting. He released your neck, you let out a series of cough thanking God for answering you as took deep breaths of air. You’d never been so grateful to be able to breathe.

Ari still hadn’t pulled out, he was still hard. Your pussy was rubbed raw from his pubic hair, and your clit ached painful from the force of his pelvis colliding with it. Then his thrusts continued. He wanted to go again. You clawed at him and he pinned you again “Bad Birdie, not done yet.” He murmured. You stared up at the moon as it mocked you, moving so freely through the sky. You curse the moon for letting him come alive. Your thoughts begin to fade as you just gaze up at the moving clouds heavy with more rain.

Resistance was futile. So you just laid there taking it. You close your eyes, your head was heavy from the adrenaline crash. You hoped sleep would take you, and it did.

The orange, pink tinge of sunset colours your vision as you open your eyes. Your ears are ringing, a piercing static reverberating in your skull. Your eyes sting and your throat is strained and scratchy. You push your hands beside you, they sink into the mud slightly as you sit up. A dull pain radiates throughout the apex of your thighs and legs, the bruises that litter them clear in the garish glow of the orange morning sun. You look around you, there’s hay scattered across the ground and beside you is the Scarecrow, face down in the mud your phone beneath his freakishly human hands. The baritone sound of his voice echoes in your mind as you pull your phone out and turn it on. 1% battery…Better call the right person.

Tag list: @alina02 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @cevansgurl @getwellsoontana @bval-1 @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @flamefoxxrecs @savstranger @sojuxxi @cjand10 @sweetwrathoflilith @adoreyouusugar

wait so did she really dead omg😟😟😟

If you’re talking about Thanatosis🦋 then, no, she is not dead. She simply gave in to her inner voice telling her that Bucky cared about her and loved her, basically forfeiting all of her free will—she developed severe Stockholm syndrome.

🩸 Steve Kemp x Reader Drabble 🩸

Pairing: Master!Steve Kemp x Bunny!Reader

Warnings: Steve is a warning in itself, marking/biting, cunnilingus, mentions of cannibalism , mentions of blood, Dom!Steve + Sub!reader

Nicknames: Bunny, Slut, Master

His hand gripped your thigh, a grip that could kill—and it had, he stroked the soft flesh pinching it when he got close to your already damp panties. You carded your cuffed hands through his silky locks, relishing in the sight below you. His hand slipped back down to your knees rubbing them decisively with his calloused palm. Two rubs each, slow and methodical as if he was feeling up a watermelon trying to pick the best one. Like you were food. You were food to him. You tried to push away the disturbing reality and focus on his sculpted jaw as nudged his slightly stubbly cheek against your inner thigh. He took in a deep inhale of your skin, before taking the sensitive flesh into his mouth; sucking it, running it through his teeth, playful nibbling. You had to swallow down the witty remark that sat on the top of your tongue, ‘didn't your parents ever tell you not to play with your food Stevie?’ You bit down on your lip suppressing a giggle. The pain of Steve chomping down on your thigh pulled you out of your gallow humour inner monologue “Ouch!” You yelped, tugging on his hair. He released the skin, blood trickled from his bite mark. He lapped at the trickling red, as if it was wine that had spilled on his hand whilst opening a bottle of wine.

“Focus, Bunny, I want you to watch everything I do to you. Even when I do this.” He bit down on the same thigh, this time closer to your dripping cunt. But he dug his teeth further in, at the same time his fingers pushed aside your panties. He ran his fingers through your hot, damp folds; pushing two digits into your needy cunt. He growled into your thigh, chewing on the bite mark like a rabid animal desecrating your corpse. The danger was so enticing. Pleasure and pain soon bleed into one another as his fingers attack the spongy spot inside you, curling his fingers to rub and tease it whilst he moves to your other thigh. The initial bite made you squeal, but as he tugged at flesh and added another finger the squeal of pain turned into moans of pleasure. You felt him rut his hips into your ankle, his clothed dick straining against jeans. His head lifted from your leg, he craned his neck back slightly to look at you. Your blood smeared on his saliva coated chin, his tongue jutted out of his mouth licking at as much of the blood as he could manage. He growled as he swallowed, his eyes almost rolling back into his skull “You taste so fucking good. Anytime I get a taste of you, even just a smell of you. I go feral.” He scissored his fingers inside you, thrusting them in and out of you “Cum. Cum on my fingers Bunny. Like the little pain slut you are. You like this, don’t you? Like me slowly devouring you.” Your grip on his hair tightened and your hips raised off the chair, you pushed yourself further down his fingers trying to match his pace. His thrusts stopped. “Tell me, Bunny, or I won’t let you cum.” He snarled, giving you an intense glare.

You whimpered “I love it! Love you devouring me, feel so good!” You practically screamed, you were so close. He slapped your clit with the tips of his fingers

“That’s my good little slut.” He cooed, resuming his ministrations. His head dipped down, he took your sensitive bud in his mouth. Running his teeth over the hood of your clit ever so gently as his tongue flicked at it. You choked on a moan, throwing your head back as you came on his face. He swallowed down every single drop of your juices hungrily, the salacious slurping sound piercing through your blissed out haze causing your cheeks to burn red. “Fuckkkk. I should bottle this shit up and sell it, so sweet. I can’t get enough.” He groaned, sliding his tongue inside your clenching hole trying to drink as much of you as he possibly could. When he had sucked you dry he rose to his feet, he stroked your face with his palm running his thumb across your lip “Open.” You oblige “Good little Bunny.” He praises before shoving all three of his fingers that had been inside you down your throat “clean my fingers, Bunny. We’re going to the bedroom, I’m not done with you yet.”

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@alina02 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @flamefoxxrecs

🎀 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.”