okay, fine. but only because you asked so nicely. 😘
Title: Play Pretend
Summary: You play dumb to get help from some nerd in your Stats class, but end up biting off more than you can chew.
Warnings: College AU, Bimbofication, Manipulation, D/S if you squint, Smut
A/N: look i just wanted an excuse to write bimbo!reader, okay?
”Me?” Peter points at himself incredulously. The chubby kid—his friend, you don’t remember his name—elbows him. Peter simply stares at you, like he’s trying to work out whether or not you’re really there, really talking to him.
“Don’t be stupid,” his friend hisses, before flashing a grin at you. You’re tempted to roll your eyes but you don’t, keeping your pouty, hopeful smile in place. Peter’s cheeks go pink as he averts his gaze. “Yes, he’d love to tutor you.”
“Really?” You clap your hands together. “Oh thank goodness. Do you have time today? The test is tomorrow and I’m just so worried—”
The bait’s barely dangled before he’s fumbling over himself to grab it.
“Yes, I mean, of course I do, I’ll help. I’d love to, um, to help you.” You’re used to men looking at you the way Peter Parker looks at you, a heady mix of admiration and want that rushes straight to your ego.
“Thank you so much.” You flip a curl over your shoulder. “Let’s say tonight at five?”
—
You scowl as you check your grades on the school’s website. You had managed to pull up from the nose-dive you’d been in all semester long, but this Statistics class is going to be the death of you. The dressing down you’d gotten from your father had been particularly rough, and you don’t think his threat to withdraw any and all financial support is just talk.
But the numbers all just form gibberish on the page, and you understand the concepts about as well as you understand rocket science. Academic probation—that was what your advisor had called it.
One more F and you’re out of here.
You can’t take that final exam—which is why you’re going to get Peter Parker to take it for you.
Your phone buzzes, the screen lighting up.
Hey, I’m here!
You grin. Showtime.
You’d arranged for Erin and Jerrica to be out, leaving the suite empty for your “study session” with Peter. They won’t be back until nearly ten—but you don’t think you’ll need five hours to break Peter Parker. There’s a knock at the door, and you take your time fixing your lipstick in the hall mirror before answering. He looks eager, his hair windswept from the bike ride, cheeks pink and eyes bright.
“Come in, please,” you step aside to let him in, brushing your chest against his arm as he passes. You pretend you don’t notice the contact, smiling innocently up at him. “Thanks so much for coming to help me, I’m so lost.”
“Let’s, um, let’s take care of that,” Peter replies, fiddling with the strap of his back-pack. “Um, where should I…” he trails off as you shut the door.
“Oh, sorry,” you giggle, tapping your head with a finger like you’d forgotten. “My room. The girls might be back and I don’t want to bother them.” You grab his hand and the palm is only a little sweaty as you lead him towards your room. There’s nowhere for both of you sit but the bed, and you guide him down to it, the textbook open on the duvet between you. Peter begins pulling his own study materials out of his bag.
“So let’s start with probability,” he flips through the textbook.
“Um, I was sort of hoping we could… get more basic.” You reply, schooling your expression into one of shame. “I’m sorry, I’m so stupid.”
“Y-you’re not stupid! There’s loads of things more important than, um, being good at statistics.”
“Not for me.” You say, looking down at your hands. “Can I tell you something, Peter?” He looks at you eagerly. The same way all men look at you when they think you’re letting them in. Giving them a window, a doorway, any route to your heart.
“Of course!” He answers quickly. “Anything!”
“I… I think if I fail this class, I’ll fail out.” You look down at your hands to give your eyes time to water. “I’m doing my best—” You really, really haven’t been, unless being a regular at campus frat parties counted—“but it’s just so hard.” You sniffle. “It’s easy for you, you’re like, a genius.” You slather the flattery on thick as you lean against him.
“I-I’m not—You’re—” Peter swallows thickly. “That’s really, um, sweet of you to s-say. B-but you have a lot going for you too.”
You wipe at a tear, offer in him a watery smile. “Really?” His face flushes pink.
“Of course, you’re, um, you’re really beautiful, and um, I read your essay in our English class last year, it was really good—” He rambles, eyes flicking down to the place where your fingers are touching on the bedspread. You pretend not to notice.
“You really think so?” You curl a lock of your hair around your finger, biting your lip. His eyes follow the motion eagerly. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“Y-yes.” Peter runs a nervous hand through his hair. “You’re a-amazing.” You look away coyly, a soft smile playing on your trembling lips.
“If only that was enough to pass,” you reply, smile faltering. “I have so much riding on this,” you sniff, crocodile tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. “My dad would be so disappointed in me…” You trail off, wiping at your damp cheeks. “I’d do anything to keep that from happening.” You can hear Peter’s breath coming hard and fast as he stares at you with wide eyes. You push further, placing a hand lightly over his own.
He’s not bad looking when you really look at him.
Behind the hoodies and books he’s actually pretty hot.
“I, um, I want to help,” he stammers. “But I, um, I don’t really, uh, know how? To do that, I mean. Other than take the test for you, which is, you know, way out of the question, oh—” You draw your thumb slowly across the back of his hand, pressing closer. You aren’t wearing a bra, and you know he can feel your nipples through your shirt as you sigh.
“I know it’s asking a lot.” Your thigh is pressed against his, now, and when you squeeze his hand you can feel his pulse racing. You bat your eyelashes, raking your teeth along your full bottom lip. “But I really did mean it when I said I’d do anything.”
“A-anything?” You lean closer, one hand on his chest, the other resting on the comforter between his legs, less than a centimeter away from the half-hard outline you can see through his pants.
“Anything.”
—
“Open your mouth. Stick your tongue out.” Peter slaps the thick weight of his cock against your tongue with a wet thwack. He slides back and forth, pressing in until his tip bumps the back of your throat and then pulling out again. He grins when you gag, holding your head still as he ruts against your face. Drool leaks from the corners of your mouth, dripping down to where Peter’s heavy balls slap wetly against your chin.
He pulls away after a moment, thin strands of your saliva running from your wet lips to the head of his cock. Dizzily you stare up at him, eyes glassy.
How did I get here?
You try to remember as you kneel naked on your bedroom floor with Peter towering over you, the head his thick cock only inches from your face. You’d been in control at the beginning, fielding Peter’s eager kisses as his hands played at the hem of your skirt. You aren’t sure when his gentle suggestions had become orders, ones that make your busy brain go blissfully blank when you follow them.
“I didn’t tell you to stop.”
His cock still tastes like you, and your pussy clenches down hard around nothing at the ghost of the feeling of him inside of you. You take him down to the base, ignoring your body’s protests at the intrusion as you peer up at him through your lashes.
“That’s it,” he pants. “Good girl. Don’t think. Just do what I tell you, Sweetheart.” You nod dumbly, mumbling around his cock. You nurse him for a few minutes, tongue swirling around the throbbing head before he pushes you off. “I want to cum in your pussy again.” You scramble up to your feet, watching as Peter sits leisurely in your desk chair, legs spread.
“Well?”
You scramble into his lap, whining as he lines himself up with your slick, swollen entrance. Peter grins against your throat as he lowers you down, savoring every inch.
“Thought I was stupid, didn’t you, Sweetheart?” He asks, rolling his hips up into yours. “But that’s you, isn’t it? My sweet, stupid girl. S’why you’re failing.” He reaches down to flick at your clit with his thumb, and you practically convulse as you nod.
There’s a knock at your bedroom door just as Peter drops you down again, stars bursting before your wide, unseeing eyes as you gasp and whine. Dimly, you are aware that the clock on your bedside table reads 10:30, and that your roommates are back from their self-imposed exile.
”Hey, you alive in there?”
“Yeah, you said you wanted to grab dinner when you were done with Operation Nerd.” Peter slams you down on his cock again, and you let out a strangled moan. “Wait a minute—”
“She’s busy,” he snarls through gritted teeth. “Take a rain-check.”
A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used. Let me know if i fucked up and not do that. Chat me up i don't bite! Thank you @boxofbonesfic for letting me participate. 10k is so hard to do LOL so i failed i got to 10,832
Summary: Your boyfriend sells you off to Logan to settle his debts.
Warning: : Adult content only! 18+ only please. Dark! There is potentially triggering stories ahead. NoNcOn, dubious conscent, fingering, biting, blood, chocking
Dark Logan Howlett x Reader Biker AU, Horror, Werewolf AU, A/B/O
🐺
The brakes whine as you ease your car to a stop in front of a small house, three hours from home. You hadn’t planned to drive out here to help your boyfriend, Gambit, pay off his latest repair bill, but his desperation pulled you in. Poor Gambit—the unluckiest person you knew. If it wasn’t his bike breaking down, it was something else.
You check his text one last time to confirm the address, squinting at the low numbers on the side of the house. It looks more like a home than a shop. You peer over to the garage door, a tall figure hunches over a bike, smoke curling from the thick cigar between his teeth. Broad shoulders and muscular arms stretch against a sweat-stained tank top, streaked with oil and grime.
Stepping out the strong scent of oil and metal mesh together. You follow the narrow path toward him, unease settling in your stomach as you approach.
He looks up, his gaze hard and guarded. “What do you want?”
“Oh… hi, um are you Logan?” you stammer, clutching your wallet. “I’m here to pay for Gambit’s bike. He said to ask for you.”
He watches you with a hint of amusement as he wipes his hands on a towel. He steps closer, the tension making your breath hitches.
“Your piece-of-shit ‘boyfriend’ owes me more than that junk heap he calls a bike.”
You frown at his words. Gambit rubbed people the wrong way, you were used to that, but this felt a bit much.
“How much?” You ask swallowing thickly.
The man scoffs, taking a drag from his cigar before flicking the ash aside. “You’re not from around here, are you, sweetheart?”
“No… just in town for Gambit,” you reply, feeling small under his stare.
“Figures,” Logan mutters, exhaling smoke. “Betas always running away to the city, playing alpha like teenage pups.”
You blink, lost in his strange language. He smirks, lingering on the hickey on your neck.
“Bet that’s how you got that love bite.” He moves to touch you and you flinch away. You cover the love bite Gambit left on your neck, as Logan chuckles lowly, shaking his head.
“Look, I just want to pay what he owes.” you say, irritation lacing your words.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but money won’t cut it. Gambit tried to play alpha with an omega he had no business touching.”
His words hang heavy in the air. Jealous licks at you, but you don’t want to believe it. Gambit was a flirt, but he loved you.
“When a beta defiles an omega, he has to offer up a new omega in return.” Logan says. You instinctively step back, but he closes the gap.
“What… what do you mean?” Your brow wrinkles at his words.
“Gambit offered you as payment.” His gaze sweeps over you, making your skin prickle. “So, here you are.”
Disbelief and betrayal sting your chest. “No… he wouldn’t…”
“Believe what you want, but you’re mine now.” His voice softens, but there’s no warmth—only a quiet intensity. “You’ll make a nice little omega. Have you bare foot, all nested up, filled with pups.”
“You’re insane,” you whisper, heart pounding. You turn, shoving your wallet back in your bag. You won’t be part of this mess. “I’ll just have Gambit come and pay you himself.”
As you move to leave, Logan’s voice follows. “Run if you want. It won’t change anything.” There’s dark amusement in his tone, as if he knows something you don’t.
🐺
You toss your phone onto the passenger seat, jaw clenched. Gambit isn’t answering—of course not. You feel foolish. He was just using you, like everyone else, a sucker for sweet words and that deadly Cajun accent.
The faint growl of an engine pulls you back. A roaring hum behind you, chrome flashing as it draws closer, headlight bearing down, bright and unyielding. Your heart jumps, pulse racing.
You drift toward the shoulder, hoping they’ll pass, but the it stays close, the headlight glaring in your mirror. Panic flares. You accelerate, trying to distance yourself, but they match your speed, their engine snarling. You swerve, a loud thud jolts the car—they hit your rear bumper, shoving you off the road. The steering wheel jerking violently in your hands, as the car spins, skidding sideways into a tree.
Impact slams you, wiping your head back as the airbag deploys, and it all goes black.
Silence.
Your lashes flutter as the world spins in a hazy blur. The scent of damp soil and grass fills your noise as a sharper ache pulses at your neck. Slowly, your fingers drift up, brushing over a jagged wound. You draw your hand back, the tips glisten with dark wet blood.
Your heart pounds as you struggle to understand. There’s no sign of the car, only rough pine needles beneath you. The wind whispers through the branches, and an unsettling silence surround you.
With effort, you pull yourself up, every joint protesting. A flicker in the underbrush draws your eye—a shadow shifting too close. You hold your breath, feeling watched.
The ache in your neck pulses and heart races as the forest seems to grows still. Your eyes shift to the movement in the shadows, a massive black wolf emerges, eyes glinting like embers. You body moves on its own drawn to it, hypnotized by a feeling that you couldn’t break. You reach out as you near it, its low growl soothing like a melody.
A distant howl snaps you back. Your eyes grow wide with panic and without thinking, you turn and run, stumbling through the underbrush. You hear it gaining, nipping at your heels as if it enjoyed the chase. You whale as the scenery zooms. It slams into you, pinning you to the ground, its breath hot against the back of your head, trapping you beneath it.
🐺
You roll over, scrambling backwards, pressing against the rough bark of a tree as the creature rises on its hind legs. Thick black fur recedes slowly, revealing chiseled muscles beneath, steam curling off his bare skin. It’s human-Logan. Your breath catches and eyes go wild with disbelief.
"I told you, running wouldn’t help," he says, eyes simmering with dark resolve. He stands bare and unashamed, and you wrestle with yourself, resisting the pull of your gaze downward.
“I don’t understand. What-”
“I told you,” Logan says, stepping closer, and you press back against the tree, its rough bark biting into your skin. “Your beta boyfriend offered you up to settle his debt.”
“That mark on your neck?” His gaze flickers to it, dark and possessive. “That’s our bond. Only an alpha can turn a human into an omega.” He pauses, almost disdainfully. “I don’t care for humans—never have. But what’s done is done. You’re an omega now… mine.”
His words stir a warmth within you, mingling with the ache of your wound.
“Please, I just want to go home,” you whimper. You don’t know when the tears started, but the salty taste seeped into your trembling mouth.
“No, you don’t,” Logan replies confidently. He’s right you don’t. You want to be near him, more than you want to breathe. “What you want is to please your alpha… ain’t that right?” His voice is a soft growl.
You nod as if on command. “Now get up and take off your clothes.”
As though spellbound, you obey, your hands moving on their own. Stripping bare, you feel his intense gaze as he steps in, his touch grazing over you, unhurried yet possessive.
“Don’t worry. I’ll show you how to please an alpha,” Logan promises, setting your skin on fire with his touch. You gasp loudly as he snakes a hand around you, breathing you in.
His skin radiates heat, seeping into you. You grip his arm, as though grounding yourself against his force. You moan, melting as Logan cups your breast while the other sinks between your legs.
"That's it," he murmurs approvingly as your legs part, inviting him between your folds. His touch circles over your sensitive bud, and heat blooms under his fingers. You can’t help but grind against him, the need intensifying with each slow movement.
He presses his hard length against you, his hands roaming each breast, twisting and teasing your nipples before his teeth sink into the tender flesh of your neck. A haze settles over your thoughts, the world narrowing to just his touch, his presence. Your fingers knot in his hair, pulling him closer as his fingers slide deep into you, curling slowly, igniting a deep, pulsing need.
“Who is your alpha?”
The words feel strange but powerful, stirring something primal within you. You answer, breathless, “You.”
His gruff beard scratches against your skin as he licks the mark. The sensation driving a primal need for him to bite into it again, to feel his teeth claiming your flesh as his own.
“Do you know what a knot is?“ His voice is low, the question reverberating through you. You hum a no, head bubbling with anticipation of an answer you were primed to receive. “The knot is what binds us together, keeps you locked to me.”
“You feel that?” Logan asks as he presses his hard cock against your ass. He hums as warmth trickles down your thigh, your soaking his finger with your need.
You whimper still lost in your haze when he steps back and spins you around. You blink coming back into the dread of where you were.
“Wait, please… stop,” you cry out as Logan presses you firmly against the rough, unyielding bark of the tree.
“Are you gonna take my knot like a good omega?” He says it tauntingly as he traces the tip of his cock on your bare ass. You suck in a breath when you feel him at the entrance, your skin tingling as he holds it there.
“Say you want my knot.” He growls, curling over you, his hot breath fanning over your ear. You hiss as his nails sink into the soft flesh around your waist. You wanted him to stop and yet you didn’t.
“I-“ your voice croaks as Logan bottoms out with out warning. Your head drops forward as heat envelops over your back. You mewl as he rocks slowly, your body grading against the tree with every thrust of his hips.
“You take my knot so good.” He hisses as he finds a rhythm. His hand snakes around your neck, tightening as he pounds you harder and harder. His heavy breathing turned into animalistic grunts as his hips slapped against your ass harshly.
“You’re gonna be a good little omega for me. Aren’t ya darlin?” Logan lifts you by the neck, bodies flush against each other, slick with sweat. His face is close, too close, and you feel the pressure at your neck—teeth grazing, then sinking in.
“Ye-Yes!”
Pain blooms, spreading like a shockwave bites deeper. Your nails claw into his flesh, the feel anchoring you to him as heat pools in your core.
The ache is so deepen and tension so tight in your belly you can’t focus on anything but the slow, mounting pleasure that blurs the pain.
“Fuck I’m gonna fill you up….”
You feel his movements stagger, his breath more labored, but the chock hold on your neck stays firm. You feel him spill into you, overflowing as he pulls himself out.
The haze in your brain slowly starts to fade and panic swells grounding you back to earth. You turn away, legs weak hugging yourself, pressing once again your back to the tree.
“Don’t be so shy now darlin… Night is still young.”
Summary: You experience your first ever Jabari wedding in 4K HD, first person point of view. You can't believe you went from bastard child to royal bride in a matter of days. You're expecting the worst, but only the prophecy can determine your fate tonight. At the end of it all, will you still be whole?
Rating: MATURE (18+)
Warnings: 🔞This is the first part of my finale to the original story. It is a Dark Fairy Tale retelling of Cinderella 🔞 ABO/Omegaverse Dynamics, Threats and talks of violence/murder, Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Asshole Family, Claiming Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Knotting,
❥Chapter Index ❥
Once again, the comforting feelings of validation and righteousness don’t last. The day of your wedding, all you can do is cry silent sorrowful tears as you’re woken and made to get dressed and ready. The beta woman doing your makeup had given up trying to work around your tears, applying a much lighter application than what she thought was necessary for such a prestigious event. Farai was trying to be cheerful, but she was at a loss of what to do to console you as well. Your only saving grace is that you had most of the day to sulk in misery by yourself. Tradition dictated the ceremony be in the late evening under a full moon.
It had to be some form of cruel and unusual punishment from the universe that everyone but you was buzzing around like happy little butterflies. Even when the tears stopped and you were shown the final result of everyone’s diligent work, you could only stare back at the reflection of the pretty girl draped in Jabari finery and decorated with carefully painted bridal markings.
Mean!Steve Rogers! Working at the daycare on the ground floor of Stark Tower is your dream job, though it has often landed you in rather... interesting situations. Least of which, is acting as something of an on call babysitter for Earth's mightiest parents. Luckily though, it's just the littlest Stark that usually requires your attention. And you're glad of it too; it seems like every time you're around, one man in particular has a slick comment waiting for you, a snide remark that makes everyone else laugh while you force an uncomfortable smile.
Who knew Captain America had a little mean streak?
A/N: Been a hot minute since I posted anything, but here is my (very late) entry to @boxofbonesfic Monkey’s Paw challenge. Thank you so much for allowing me to participate— I so hope you enjoy and congratulations on 7K, you deserve every single one and more! Many thanks to my pre-readers @maladaptivexxdaydreaming and @yarnforbrains, you’re the best. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback and reblogs are golden.
Stark Tower is almost in complete darkness when you show up, save for a few sporadic lights coming from the lower floors where you know most of the night staff will still be working.
You reach the front door and swipe your key card, the little green light granting you entry as the door automatically unlocks. It’s eerily quiet as you walk across the main foyer and past reception, pausing to stop at the security station to your left. Mike is already on his feet, a curious look on his face.
“You’re not usually here this late,” he observes with a smile.
You lean onto the desk, noting several coffee cups and a half-eaten pack of donuts as a basketball game plays out on one of the many screens flicking in front of him.
“Duty calls,” you say with a little sigh, nodding towards the front door of the daycare behind you. “Has Ms. Potts dropped Morgan off yet?”
Mike furrows his brow, looking puzzled. “I don’t follow.”
“I was called-” you start to explain, but think better than to bore him with your strange arrangement with the Starks, “y’know what, don’t worry. I’ll just go and wait inside for her.” You step to walk away before turning back towards Mike. “Can you buzz me when they arrive?”
You can tell he wants to question your request further, but keeps his mouth closed as he nods in understanding. “Of course, will do.”
You can’t remember the day you realised you’d effectively become the Stark’s on-call babysitter— the first time it happened their nanny had been struck down with food poisoning. Pepper called you in a frenzy, asking if you could watch Morgan while they attended a Stark Expo that they couldn’t get out of.
You had said yes without much hesitation or thought, more than happy to help out seeing as Morgan is never any trouble.
The second time, it was a family emergency.
You never questioned what happened to their nanny after the third and fourth occasions, it had seemingly just become the new arrangement overnight. You take care of S.H.I.E.LD agents’ children during the day and watch Morgan at night when Tony and Pepper need you.
-
You fish in your pocket for your keys as you reach the door and place your hand on the handle, surprised when it pushes down.
Weird. You swear you locked it when you closed up earlier in the evening. Shaking your head, you rebuke yourself for clearly not double-checking it when you left.
You head inside, choosing not to bother putting the lights on as you manoeuvre your way through the myriad of toys and play sets to get to your office. Setting down your overnight bag as you turn on the lamp on your desk, you mentally plan to check the windows to make sure you didn’t forget to lock up anywhere else, when a noise from the playroom startles you.
Whirling round, you’re met with nothing but darkness. Just your imagination. You turn back, suddenly eager to check that nothing is out of place when there’s another sound from behind you. Once more, you spin on your heel and this time, come face to face with Steve Rogers. Even though his features are welcoming— soft and kind, his steely stare is paradoxical, making you feel cold under the muted office light sending twisted shadows up the wall.
“Fuck, you scared me,” you huff, placing a hand to your chest to calm yourself.
He doesn’t apologise. In fact, he almost looks happy that he frightened you as he casually leans against the door frame, blocking you in. “I know it’s all career with you women these days, but it’s a bit late to be here, isn’t it?”
His tone sets you on edge immediately, and you scowl.
“I’m waiting for Morgan, remember? You called me on behalf of Ms. Potts.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he waves you off nonchalantly like the phone call he had made to you at Pepper’s behest only an hour ago is a long-forgotten memory. “Guess they’re caught in traffic coming back into the city,” he adds with a shrug as he pushes himself off the frame.
“I guess so,” you reply tersely, walking towards him. He steps back a little when you squeeze past, but not enough to stop you from having to brush up against him to get through.
Feeling his stare burning a hole into your back, you pick up the pace towards the nap room, eager to create as much space between you as possible. You’ve managed to prevent being in such close proximity to him for the past three years of working here, you’re damn well not ready to start now.
Steve has always been somewhat… hostile towards you for unknown reasons. A little cold. Belligerent even. You’re glad you’ve not had cause to be in his company much, the cruelty of his snide comments always makes you have to swallow down your contempt, even when everyone else around you laughs at your expense.
It all started a few months after the daycare opened— at first, Steve would blank you in the corridor even when he’d happily acknowledge the person you so happened to be with. Pepper often reassured you that he was just shy, probably a little apprehensive about getting to know someone new. You briefly held out the hope that one day you might strike up a friendship with the super soldier, but he just seemed to get nastier and more intimidating as time went by.
Clearly you had done something to upset him considering his behaviour, but you never had the opportunity to find out why.
You hurry to the clusters of beds, straightening out the blankets and fluffing up a pillow ready for Morgan’s arrival when you feel him close behind you.
“Is there something you need from me?” you question brusquely, glancing at him over your shoulder. The way he stares at your bent over form makes your stomach knot in disgust.
He shakes his head. “No,” comes his reply. “Can’t have you waiting here alone; you never know who might be lurking in the dark corners of this place.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Like you were?”
You straighten up and edge past him, desperate to widen the gap between you. Mindlessly, you rummage through a cupboard, not looking for anything in particular but for an excuse to keep yourself from maintaining eye contact with him for too long. As soon as you sense him closing in behind you, you shift from your position and head out into the play area, determined to keep your distance, but Steve easily keeps up.
“Why do you keep running away from me?” he queries with curiosity. Picking up a large stuffy that’s fallen onto the floor, you wish you had the strength to suffocate the man with it as you shove it back amongst the other teddies.
With a deep breath, you turn around to face him. “I’m not.”
“Are you afraid of me?” His eyes almost flash with excitement at the prospect.
“Afraid of America’s Sweetheart?” you scoff. “No.”
You’re certainly afraid of his sharp tongue towards you, but you put that down to the misogyny that was still rampant back in the 1940s. Some men never grow out of that ideology.
His jaw ticks as his smile drops. “I suppose this is as close as you're gonna get to having kids, isn’t it?” Your eyes narrow as he continues, stepping closer and closer until he’s practically towering over you. “Single dame like you, all alone. I bet you haven’t had a decent fuck in years.”
The shock of hearing him curse is outweighed by the sound of the slap resonating around the room just as your hand smarts from the contact. Steve’s cheek blushes claret, and the weight of your action comes crumbling down as he almost tackles you to the floor.
The pile of teddies helps to cushion your fall a little while you punch and slap at his chest, but your struggle seems to spur him on even more, and he’s laughing as he nestles himself between your spread legs. A horrible weight settles in your gut when your hips react to his touch, unconsciously seeking out more as he rips right through the material of your yoga pants, just enough for him to gain access to your cunt.
“It’s okay, I’m here to change all that for you.”
“Stop- Morgan- be here-” you croak, tears thick in your voice.
Steve plunges two fingers into your wet heat, your stomach rolling with nausea as your walls hug and clench around the invasion.
He laughs, the sound chilling you to the bone. “Don’t worry, she’s not coming. She never was.”
Written for @boxofbonesfic Monkey’s Paw challenge celebration.
I was issued this prompt: Andy Barber is a good dad—a sight better than the ones who usually show up on PTA nights. Always patient, a good listener—really involved in Jacob’s school life, more than half of the fathers of all the students in your class. You figure your crush is completely harmless—that is, until Andy asks if maybe you’ll stop by the house with Jacob’s progress report. At your convenience, of course.
Please leave a comment and reblog <3
You reread the text, double checking the address of the house before you. You don't need to really, you recognise the car in the driveway.
Usually you wouldn't go out of your way like this, not for those smug disconnected parents of spoiled teenagers but Andy Barber isn't the usual dad. He comes to every PTA meeting, attends all of Jacob's games, and even volunteers for field trips. He's hands on and oh, boy is he handsome. Married, but you can admire him from afar.
Even if he didn't have a ring on his finger, he'd never look in your direction. You might be of an age but you don't look half as good as him. He works out and you stress over teenagers who aren't even yours. It shows, for both of you.
You grab your bag and get out of your car. A neighbour might get nosy, or suspicious, if you sit there any longer. You click up the tarmac and carefully ascend the rounded stone steps to the front door. You changed into your heels so your calves looked less like cankles.
You blow out a breath and shake out your arms, your bag slipping to your elbow clumsily. You right yourself and wait. You lift your knuckles to the door but stop as you spot the tiny camera where the peephole should be. You glance over and hit the button for the doorbell cam.
You wait and peek over at the car. Maybe he's not there. Laurie has a car too. You've seen it once or twice when she came with him to parent-teacher nights. What if you misread–
The door opens and you flinch as Andy grips the edge, slightly out of breath and… dripping. You blink as your lips part, too stunned to say anything as you take in his damp hair, his glistening chest, so muscular, and his stomach, oh my god!
"Hey, I'm so sorry," he clutches the towel around his waist, "it slipped my mind. I had a huge deposition after I messaged you and– doesn't matter, come in."
"Um, okay," you say hesitantly as he steps back , "you know, I could send it with Jacob tomorrow–"
"You're here now, come on," he waves you in and waits.
You enter. Is he watching you? Or maybe you're just paranoid because you're trying not to look at him. How does a man his age look that good?
"I'm sorry about… me, ha," he chuckles and tucks the towel under and lets it hang from his waist.
"I have the midterm report here," you almost whisper as you search in your bag, "Jacob, uh, did very well, much better than last year–"
"You okay?" He asks as you pull out a paper and check to make sure it’s the one.
“Fine,” you croak. Exactly. You’re fine. Just a spinster teacher standing beside a mostly naked man way out of your league. “Here,” you hold out the paper.
He takes it with a low thanks and turns to lean against the console table beside the shoe rack. He reads quietly, his free hand carelessly scratching the hair across his bare chest.
“I should just go–”
“You came all the way here,” he looks up, blue eyes sparkling, “at least stay for a drink.”
“I gotta drive,” you chew your lip, “but I appreciate the offer.”
“Water? Tea? Coffee?” he suggests as he stands. The towel shifts dangerously and he catches it.
You look down instinctively but quickly avert your eyes. He chuckles and steps closer, reaching for the strap of your bag. He grabs on before you can shy away and you look behind him at the picture of him and Laurie.
“We got this fancy sparkling water maker, you wanna try some? We got every flavour under the sun,” he says.
“Really I think–” you cling to your bag but he forces it from your grasp easily, “I should go–”
“Come on, it’s not that late, I got decaf, you seem more a coffee girl,” he puts your bag on the table and drops the report next to it.
“Girl?” you scoff, “right.”
“What are you? Early thirties?” he turns back to you, “through here.”
“Try adding ten years,” you roll your eyes, “but thanks for lying.”
He leads you into the kitchen and you follow, watching the way his shoulders move, the muscles taut beneath his skin, biceps bulging. This is weird. Very weird. But he doesn’t seem to care.
“You getting an eye full or what?” He spins to you suddenly and your ankles bend in your heels.
You cough and shake your head, “what, I–no.”
“Am I making you uncomfortable? You’re pretty quiet. Usually, it’s a mile a minute with you,” he smirks, “just say the word and the towel’s… gone.”
You stare at him in confusion. Then you laugh. He’s caught you out and now he’s teasing you. Were you really stupid enough to think he never noticed you drooling over him? Ha, let him get his kicks.
“Sorry, I– it’s harmless really, just a crush,” you rub the back of your neck, “I think I should go n–”
The towel flaps through the air and lands at your feet. You stagger and look down at it, jaw dropping as you refuse to look up. Whatever this game is, it’s gone a bit too far.
Andy comes closer as he laughs, one step at a time as humiliation crawls over you in fiery tingle. You glimpse him along your peripheral, through the fan of your lashes, his hand moving up and down his length. Big, thick, just like the rest of him. He catches your chin before you can back away.
“Mr. Barber,” you try to resist as he forces your head up, your skull aching from his easy strength, “I…”
“This is what you’ve been wanting, isn’t it?” He grips you and pulls you closer, “naughty little school teacher, huh?”
“I…” you search his face, “like I said, just a crush–”
“Not for me,” he purrs as he leans in and his breath scalds, “is it a crush when you’re all alone in that tiny apartment… playing with yourself?”
“Mr–”
“I like those little shorts you wear, with the flowers,” he rasps, lips brushing against yours, “like to watch you take them off. Can’t help but wish it was me.”
“Andy,” you put your hands on his chest, heart pounding as you feel the soft hair and the thumping of his own adrenaline, “please, you’re married–”
“And lonely, like you,” he closes the gap and kisses you, hungrily, exactly as you always imagined. You pull back breathless and pant as you stare at him, “why’d you put the heels on?”
“What?” you quiver.
“You changed,” he looks down and his eyes slowly ascend, deliberate and devilish, “why did you do that?”
Your eyes round as your fingers curl into his chest hair unthinkingly. How did he know that.
“Just stupid…” you utter, “I can’t–”
“You came all this way,” he brings his other hand around the back of your skull and jerks you close to him, his dick bobbing between your bodies as he pushes his thumb over your lower lip, “you did this, don’t leave me this way.”
Hide Your Lies - Mafia!Bucky, Mafia!Steve x Reader One Shot (Smut)
Summary: Steve and Bucky run the mafia of the town, being with them gets anyone, anything they want. You catch their eye, and they want you. However, the three of you are hiding behind lies, waiting to be told.
Pairing: soft dark mafia!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader, soft dark mafia!Steve Rogers x Plus SIze!Reader, Stucky x Plus Size!Reader
Warnings: MINORS DNI, Mafia dynamics, shameless smut, werewolves, werewolf dynamics, dub con, angst, hurt/comfort, double penetration (not anal), p with plot, slight dumbification kink, authority kink, dom-sub dynamics, soft doms, aftercare, threesomes, bucky and his knife, edging, fingering, thigh riding, canon level violence, kidnapping of the reader, feral bucky and steve, marking kink, breeding kink, lovebites, badass reader, graphic descriptions of violence (none to to the reader), hair-pulling, hand kink, nipple play, possessive behaviour, some fat shaming comments are said to the reader by secondary characters, praise kink, food used in the bedroom (strawberries, i'm staring at Bucky and you will too, menace this man is a menace, i love him)
Word Count: 9.6k Dividers: @firefly-graphics
A.N: this my submission for @boxofbonesfic ‘s #Beastyoumadeofme22 challenge, honestly their prompts make me run wild with what I write. I’ve used The Hills - The Weeknd from the song list that was provided, the song was on repeat every-time I worked on this fic, so I think my spotify wrapped will be changing lol. Also please let me know your feedback and if I’ve missed any warnings so i will add them, happy (smutty) reading! (Also Bucky Barnes having a knife in his hand I almost went off a tangent and lets just say I may explore that idea later). Thank you for letting me participate!
Main Masterlist || My AO3
Now.
their eyes are on you. every movement tracked. every breath counted. every sip or bite of a morsel noted.
“how is she fairing?”
“limited eating.”
“we need her fed but weak enough.”
“i know.”
the conversation isn’t unknown, same sentences every damn day, as clockwork.
how long has it even been? a week? two? three?
the small window in the top corner greeted the cold room with sunshine, illuminating the flecks of dust floating freely.
a luxury in your eyes now.
the men leave, you predict their imminent return at dusk.
when darkness blooms across the window and the smell of the night blooming jasmines creep along the edges of the moonless night.
the men return, a woman in tow.
you keep your eyes on the small window, your visual gateway to the world once harboured.
the clang against the metal makes you flinch, a powdery scent cascades as the woman seats herself on a folding out chair.
“you haven’t been eating.” she states.
you lick your lips, the dryness upon them rubs against the flesh of your tongue, with hints of the metallic taste from the cut upon your bottom lip.
“nor will you answer the questions.” she states again.
“we have several ways to make you speak, if you continue this childish behaviour.” the man steps forward, a wicked smile gracing his greying features.
“we just want to know about them.” the woman asks of you again.
you sigh. eyes shifting to her. she tucks her blonde hair back, eager to see you might speak.
you stare silently instead.
the man stomps over to you clutching your hair pulling you up, tears prick at the ripping of strands.
“speak or we can get you to speak.” he spits the words, throwing you back down.
“they watch.” you murmur, giving them something.
“what and who do they watch? you must tell us, we can keep you safe.” the woman assures, you begin to laugh, the cut on your lip stings as they extend into a smile.
“they watch us all.” you keep the glee ever present as they exit heads shaking at the meagre information.
your eyes return to the window, two sets of eyes watch you, one houses a grim expression, the other stares at you in concern.
Then.
these roads were a one way ticket to success or to ruin. yet your steps echo in your ears as you traverse to the home rather mansion that resides upon the foot of the quaint hills.
a floral scent lingers in the air, getting stronger as you draw closer to the short flight of stairs.
the crescent moon watches over you, the music now louder, faintly the bass causes vibrations to the metal railing.
the door opens to smoke, liquor and cheers of strangers.
you smile at the drink offered upon entry throwing the hard liquor back, easing your nerves.
two men stand upon the table as the music lowers in volume.
“so those fuckers—,” the shorter haired brunette but built man sways as he speaks, a grin on his chiseled face.
“those stupid fuckers, tried to put Barnes and Rogers behind fucking bars and watch us fall!” the brunette watches with elation at the uproar of rage in the crowd.
the blonde haired man, having the larger chest between the two raises his hand the crowd quiets in the slightest.
“but you know us, we never let anything of worth go, nor do we let our enemies walk away. raise your glasses, for we have expanded territory.”
“to Steve” the brunette raises his glass towards the blonde man
“and to James.” the blonde raises his glass to the brunette the crowd is in cheers once more.
the uproar is louder than before, drinks sloshed, the blonde man grabs a woman and they share a kiss, she pulls away, with a heady grin. of course she just has the chance at all they promise.
you watch on, after all they are the two you know who hold power in this city.
the two disappear, your gaze searches for them, only to fail.
you swallow the remainder of your drink, moving to the centre, bodies move against you as the smoke and haze create the illusion of a memorable night.
you move with the man dancing behind you his hands on your waist, you turn, back against his chest.
Steve catches your gaze, you raise your hands encircling around your partner’s neck, but your eyes remain on Steve as he watches, a smug grin on his face.
he licks his lips, raising his right hand, two fingers curl, beckoning you closer.
you comply.
Steve has his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly releasing it when you come closer.
“we usually do not let in new faces.” he guides your hand around his neck, you shift closer standing between his legs.
you lightly tug on the strands of his soft hair. He hums. you wonder how it would sound if he was laying next to you in the quiet of the night.
“why not make an exception?” you ask, gazing up at him.
“you’re here to get ahead aren’t you? more than half of them are, what makes you so different?” Steve’s other hand, pushes your hair back, fingers curving around your jaw, slowly turning your face as though examining an artefact.
“what makes you oh so special for us?” James whispers, teasing goosebumps raise upon your neck at his warm breath. his hand on your left hip. fingers softly digging into the flesh. when did he appear you fail to realise.
“you want me to plead my case?” you question, tilting your head to gaze at him.
“something like that,” James’ nose brushes along your neck, his eyes on Steve, who nods, a smirk on his face.
you whimper and tug harder on Steves hair when James nips at the base of your neck.
“we aren’t very patient men, doll.” Steve reminds you of the impending question.
“these people are fleeting, they’ll take once and give once. i’m willing to remain.” you voice your proposition.
The music fades into background.
“is that what you want?” James has a deep baritone as trails his fingers down your thigh.
“to be bound to us?” Steve moves the hand on your jaw as his index and middle fingers trace over the neckline of your outfit, over your breasts.
He smiles appreciatively as your nipples harden.
“by flesh and flesh only.” they speak in unison, their warmth making you glow, you’re flush between them, feeling their desire against your abdomen and back.
their hands wandering over your needy skin.
“we need an answer, sweetheart.” Steve chastises, continuing to explore your flesh.
you find both of them are tracing your inner thighs.
“by flesh and flesh only.” you repeat.
“such a good girl.” Bucky praises.
their middle fingers trace over the wetness pooling, your hips move, needy.
“would you look at that Steve?” Bucky says in marvel almost.
“so responsive, Buck.” Steve hums, you preen, feeling yourself turn slicker.
the fabric of your panties tears at their mercy, Bucky’s fingers trace over your folds, while Steve circles your clit.
they glance at each other, your hand shifts around Bucky’s neck, clutching at his hair.
two fingers enter you, you tug on their hair biting back your moans.
“we prefer to hear those pretty sounds.” Steve reprimands with a tug on your clit he plunges his fingers back inside, Bucky lazily moves his finger in sync with Steve.
you let go of your bottom lip, your moans louder and needier as their pace increases. Steve circles his thumb around your clit, Bucky tugs on your nipples through the fabric of your dress.
“we’ll make you feel so good, so full, you want it all don’t you?” Steve questions pinching your clit as your hips stutter. You nod, your words turning into moans.
“you’re close aren’t you, doll?” Bucky’s fingers are thick and deep, tracing over your walls for that spot that will have you fall apart for them.
You nod, their names tumble from your lips as a prayer it only urges them on to quicken their actions,
“how do you think she will taste, Steve?”
“oh we will have a taste once we make her cum all over our hands. You would do that for us sweetheart? look at her chasing for her release.”
“good girls ask permission to cum.” Bucky tugs on your nipples, you only whimper in response, the coil in your stomach tightening.
“and when good girls behave they get rewarded.” Steve adds, through the haze of their movements you find your voice.
“please, please let me cum.” your words choke as you moan when Bucky’s fingers graze over your gspot.
The brunette grins wickedly at Steve as he keeps his calloused digits brushing over your gspot.
“Should we let her cum, Buck?”
“I don’t know,” Bucky’s tone is teasing as his fingers relentlessly keep hitting the spot, “I think we should.”
At his agreement, the coil snaps within you as you gush all over their fingers with a loud moan, their fingers continue to pump in and out of you riding out your orgasm.
“so fucking pretty falling apart for us.”
“such a good little girl.”
your eyes squeeze shut, breathless and all at once the music around you returns to full volume.
The two of them hum in delight, curiously you open your eyes watching them lick their fingers clean. You feel your clit pulsate.
“We’re just getting started, sweetheart.” Steve promises.
From that night what bloomed and bound you to Steve and Bucky only had them even more so addicted to you.
Everything you point at you were given and what you did not point to also kept within palm’s reach.
The nights belonged to them, as they pleased. Either the night would never end or the bed would be cold by daylight.
Leaving you only with reminders of where they’re hands were upon your skin. Marking you. Claiming you.
By flesh and flesh only.
You find yourself laying on your stomach the moon lazily gleams above from the window. The clock reads an early hour. The book you once held forgotten in favour of Steve’s hands moving over you.
Bucky watches, eating the remaining strawberries that he was feeding you just moments before.
“Oh don’t give me that look, poppet.” Bucky chides, your mouth parts as Steve’s tongue laps at the mess you’ve made dripping down your thighs.
“She tastes sweeter than those strawberries, Buck.” Steve hums against your clit, your body arches, fingers gripping the sheets harder.
“She looks something right out of a fantasy, full moon’s light falling on her, spread out between the two of us.” Bucky traces every curve of you and then Steve flips you over, slowly easing into you and Bucky begins his trace with the apex of the strawberry, circling it around your clit.
You watch as the small fruit glistens, a moan leaving your mouth as Bucky bites into it. The juice of the strawberry coating his beard.
“Fuck, petal.” Steve groans as he feels you clench around him.
“Oh did you enjoy that, poppet? Making Stevie feel so good, you’re so good for us.” Bucky repeats the action with the next strawberry, bringing it towards your lips.
“So fucking good.” Steve praises as he gives a particular thrust that has his cock brush against the spot you need him in, your lips part and you taste yourself mixed with strawberries and then Bucky’s lips meet yours, in a messy kiss as Steve picks up the pace of his movements.
You cry out, falling apart for them over and over, even as they soothingly rub their warm palms over you. Your body jolts overstimulated.
“Can you give me one more?” Bucky pleads, hands ghosting along your inner thigh.
“Bucky.” Steve chides, then their eyes meet when you part your legs for him.
Bucky’s fingers brush over your clit, his lips at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Steve’s beard brushes over the skin on the opposite side, they sit you up.
The three of you kneeling on the bed, you between them and their fingers inside you, the tightness in your bell returning quicker, you won’t last long, your hand grips Steve’s shoulder while the other is on Bucky’s forearm.
“Fuck, fuck,” You preen, grinding down on their fingers chasing the orgasm that will have you come undone for them. As the last of the night’s moonlight hits you three, just as you fall apart between the two larger men, they bite down on the skin of your neck, as you arch against them.
Spent from them drawing out five orgasms from you.
Your body slumps against theirs, Steve hushes you with soft kisses as Bucky retrieves a warm washcloth to clean you up, that night they don’t leave.
Keeping you warm till you wake, eager to sink down onto their hard cocks waiting for your sweet cunt to milk them.
you see them smiling and surrounded by everyone important. your friend and her acquaintance sits next to you, her eyes don’t leave the bite marks that frequent your skin.
“Come on, just tell me.” The acquaintance insists upon knowing.
“Why are you so intrigued?” Your friend asks for you.
“Because she was all goody two shoes in college and now…” The acquaintance gestures to the visible markings with her hand, her blonde hair glimmers in the lights that change.
James has his eyes on you, not enough to draw attention that you’re someone who means something to them. The whiskey burns his throat. He tries to satiate the burn he has to have you close.
“Barnes.” Sam’s voice brings him back into reality.
“Wilson.” He smiles.
“You know I’ve never seen you this lost. Whose caught your eye?” Natasha enquires from her spot at the table.
Steve gazes around the table as everyone’s eyes are on Bucky, he gives him a warning look. Bucky’s eyes shift to where you are, but they settle on the blonde instead as she stands in front of you.
Then waves as she sees he has her in his view.
Your best friend apologises with her gaze, as the acquaintance, whose name you don’t recall. Who probably did go to college with you.
You know their little entourage stays through the night. Watching who they are with, who James and Steve share. How often.
They hardly trust anyone.
Maybe they don’t even trust you.
You shrug in response to her apology.
“Where are you going, Shaina?” Your best-friend enquires as the blonde sashayed up the three steps to the higher booth.
“Just caught someone’s handsome eye.” She calls out; making her way to the table.
“Uh, you may want to not look there.” Your friend bites her lip nervously as you turn to watch her flirt shamelessly with James.
Your jaw tightens.
Your eyes flash to Steve, he doesn’t look your way. Always avoiding calling attention in public.
A server comes to your table,
“Yes?” You turn away from the scene Shaina is acting out. Bucky doesn’t like his arm touched without consent. He doesn’t prefer his collar fiddled with because he prefers the intimacy of undressing, exploring skin as it becomes visible, teasing the flesh.
You keep your opinions to yourself.
Squashing the jealously that dares to flare into an inferno.
Flesh and flesh only.
But was the heart not a piece of flesh too?
“The gentleman, seated there has sent this for you.” The server points to a newer man sitting at the table Steve and James head.
The blue eyed blonde man smiles, giving you a wave.
Steve’s blue eyes finally fall onto you at seeing John Walker wave to your table.
Steve’s lips press into a thin line, as you accept the drink from the server, raising it towards John and then sipping upon it.
John smirks at you, the hand that rests on his thigh raised beckoning you closer. You exhale, almost rolling your eyes.
“Is that a good idea?” Your friend’s tone is laced with worry.
“I’m just going to say, thank you.” You tell her, smoothening your dress the one that was waiting for you on your bed. The deep colour bringing out your skin, the shape enhancing the curves you already have, you walk over to the table.
“What a vision and all for me John Walker.” John gleams, his loud voice brings everyone’s attention.
Bucky’s nostrils flare, he grabs Shaina’s hand stopping it from inching higher up his arm.
The blonde woman frowns, then rolls her eyes when she sees you.
“Thank you for the drink.” You smile at John, his grin only grows tenfold. As his eyes rake over you, pausing over your hips and breasts you realise this drink has an ulterior motive.
“I believe there are ways to say thank you.” John says as though trying to teach you manners, “I would appreciate those.”
“Thanks as those warrant much different actions.” You smoothly reply, Natasha chuckles.
Johns smile drops but quickly returns not wanting to lose face.
“Come on, you’re here staying till late, you and I both know you’re looking for a fuck.” John barks out a laugh.
“Damn, girl. You’re a whole whore.” Shaina laughs as well.
You raise an eyebrow, “What did you just say?”
“Well you clearly are hooking up and yet you want more dick? You really have changed from that meek little romance novel reading thing.” Shaina chuckles.
Your hands grip your glass harder.
“I can treat you like a whore too.” John grabs your wrist. Turning you toward him. You wince as his grip tightens.
You can see Steve’s chest rising in anger, Bucky grows quiet. His eyes narrowed at John. The table silent.
You try pulling you arm away but John relents. Then pouring the remaining drink on John’s head, you begin walking away.
“Fucking bitch. Was doing her a favour by wanting to fuck her fat ass.” John hisses out loudly so you can hear.
Your friend grabs your purse handing it to you as you both walk out of the club. Not a glance spared to either of the men who said nothing. Did nothing.
“I don’t even understand who could enjoy fucking her?” Shaina looks at John, he shakes his head in disbelief.
“Must be really needing to prove his manhood by wanting to fuck her.” John rolls his eyes.
“Agreed. Now James where were we ah yes—,”
“Get out.” Bucky grits through his teeth.
“What, what do you mean?” Shaina seems dumbfounded.
“I said get out of my club and do not bother coming back.” Bucky pushes her hand away that was reaching for him again.
“Are you serious? Because of that fat bitch—,” Shaina yelps shifting several steps back as Bucky stands to his full height, he raises his hand to the side gesturing the security to come forth.
“Take the trash out, please.” He sits back down as the female security escorts Shaina out of the building.
“Now where were we with my percentage discussion?” John talks once they settle back down.
“Barnes, I think security forgot this is a piece of trash as well.” Steve says instead and John glares.
“The fuck?” John slams a hand on the table, questioningly looking between the four.
“Oh, we don’t deal with fuckers like you.” Bucky informs, “Assholes who have fragile egos and are disrespectful.”
“All for a stranger?” John scoffs, “Big mistake.”
“We’ll be the judge of that, now I know you know the exit.” Steve waves the man off dismissively.
John walks out flipping them off.
“Make sure no one buys from him.” Steve orders Natasha.
“On it.” She retrieves her phone.
“Are we going to address what happened?” Sam looks between his two bosses.
“She’s a regular patron.” Bucky shrugs, “Helped Becca out a few times, she needed help with my nieces.”
Sam nods, familial ties, explains the response. He shares a look with Natasha both are sure there is something further ongoing but they don’t say a word.
You sit on the bed, their looks of indifference burn at the forefront of your mind. Steve may have looked angry but stayed silent and Bucky was probably too busy with Shaina. You hold back the hurt.
Flesh and flesh only.
You chastise yourself. You asked for it to be this way. Not wanting more nor wanting to ask for more from Steve or James.
Your best friend returns with two mugs of coffee. You nurse the warm glass as it distracts your mind.
“How are you feeling?” She asks after taking a sip.
You shrug, “Fine I guess?”
She takes your name as if in disbelief.
You shrug again, relishing the warmth the beverage brings.
Your phone buzzes. You exhale as you read the text, “You need to leave, they’re coming over.” You tell your best friend.
“What? After they ignored you now they want sex? Why not do something? Why even allow Shaina to flirt when they have you? Or was it some second rate tactic to get you jealous.” She says narrowing her eyes.
“You, you know what I’ve agreed to, I shouldn’t care about what has to be said in my defence. They don’t owe having to defend my honour or anything. They aren’t in love with me.” You defend them again.
“But you are. With both of them.” She states, and you press your lips into a thin line.
“It doesn’t matter.” You say.
“You matter.” She insists.
“Just, let me deal with it if I don’t feel right when they come I’ll tell them off.” You offer in consolation, she reluctantly agrees.
You watch from your window as your best-friend slides into her cab with her location turned on and shared with you, the headlights of the familiar car illuminate the pathway to your apartment complex.
You sigh, heading towards the door. Internal conflict increases as you can almost feel them approach. How is this supposed to work when it gets fucked up?
The knocks are soft but an urgency in them carries through the door.
They stand in the small corridor, suit jackets discarded, sleeves rolled up to their elbows. Bucky’s eyes greet you first, going over you, cataloging everything in your appearance.
His own way of making sure you’re fine. His eyes linger on your wrist, the two scrunchies you placed catching his eye.
Steve’s hand twitches by his side, waiting for you to allow them inside. Needing to touch you to make sure, to affirm to Bucky that you’re indeed okay.
They share a look before you open the door wider to allow them inside, Steve pulls you into his embrace.
Your palms settle against his chest, Bucky shuts the door.
Steve traces his hands over you, seeing if you were hiding anything from them, at last he allows you to step away. Then gently takes the hand that harbours the scrunchies.
Bucky stands behind you, the heat of his chest seeping onto your back, his hands on your waist.
You wince when Steve takes off the scrunchies exposing the bruising left by John. You had tried to ice it to lessen the appearance of the stained skin. Bucky’s grip tightens on your waist. Not enough to hurt but enough to convey his anger.
Steve’s thumbs wipe your tears. You look up at him not realising that you had begun to silently weep.
“We’re so sorry, Poppet.” The longer haired man whispers against your skin.
“Should have him six feet under.” Steve says as his fingers delicately trace your skin.
You bite back what you want to say, the gleaming darkness enjoying the prospect of them being protective over you.
“Let us take it all away.” Steve hand his index finger under your chin, directing your gaze upwards to his, worried blue ones.
“We’ll make you forget all about him.” Bucky adds, hands inching from your waist over your hips to the hem of the dress you wanted them to take off of your skin.
Your best friend’s words echo in your mind.
“Will you forget her then?” You ask, as you’re turned to face Bucky, just moments before his lips brush against yours.
He pauses,
“Poppet, you know our arrangement.” He reminds you, brushing his fingers over your cheek.
Blue eyes hold sincerity.
“But will you forget her?” The darker side demands to know, was she enough to erase anyone else?
“Petal, we don’t want to take our eyes off of you.” Steve’s hand begins to unzip the dress.
“Do you know why I even looked at her?” Bucky’s fingers cup your jaw, making you look at him. Steve softly kisses the flesh exposed by the undone zipper.
Your eyes close as he moves towards your lower back.
“Look at me, Poppet.” Bucky commands and you comply, his gaze darkening.
“Why?” You ask, wetness pooling at your core when you feel Steve’s stubble brush along your inner thighs, then his fingers tracing delicate promises onto the heated flesh.
“Because I was looking at you all night, Steve told me off as well.” Bucky admits, turning you around, your back against his chest.
“Let us make it up to you.” Steve whispers, his hands grabbing the fabric of your panties and pulling them down your legs.
He places a kiss to each calf as he takes the material off of your skin, Bucky grabs the hem of the dress, pushing it upwards, to allow Steve to see you.
“Look at that Bucky, our girl is all wet for us.” Steve praises as his fingers gather your slick, as he moves them over your folds and circles them around your clit.
You preen, at his movements or his words you don’t know. Bucky takes the straps off the dress down your shoulders, exposing your breasts. He massages the flesh as your nipples begin to harden for him.
“Our girl really is so good to us isn’t she? So fucking beautiful.” Bucky tugs on your nipples, you jolt between them, Steve keeps a steady hand on your hips.
“She is, aren’t you Petal?” He asks, before his tongue laps at your folds.
You nod, meekly, between Bucky’s calloused fingers on your nipples and Steve tongue circling your clit. You grasp at his hair, tugging hard as he sucks on your clit. Steve’s fingers circle at your entrance, he eases them in moaning against your folds as he feels your cunt clench around them.
Bucky’s lips latch onto yours, his hand grabbing your hair, tilting your head back to devour your mouth swallowing all the moans and sounds you make upon his tongue.
“Won’t you cum for us?”
You wither between them, Steve watches as Bucky controls your pace as you make a mess of his thigh, Bucky contracts the muscle every so often while he has you grind down harder.
“Our beautiful, beautiful girl.”
Bucky runs a hand through your hair, as your lips stretch around Steve’s cock. Spit and cum dribble down your chin. Steve’s moans has your cunt clenching around nothing begging to be filled by them.
“So fucking sweet, all for us. Going to fill you up.”
“Both of our seeds inside you, claiming you for ourselves.”
You’re eased down onto Bucky’s cock, both of you moan as you feel him fill you to the hilt. Steve pumps his cock you watch it glisten with your cum and slick. You clench around Bucky.
Steve moves closer, rubbing his tip in circles on your clit, you know you’re dripping and this only adds to it.
He uses the lube, on his fingers two sinking inside you above Bucky’s cock. You had done this before with them but every time they’d make sure to prep you.
The stretch stings a little, Bucky’s lips on your skin and his fingers twisting your nipples aid in distraction. They whisper praises as Steve begins to ease his cock into you, tears spring to your eyes at the stretch and the moan that leaves your lips makes both of their cocks twitch in anticipation of the feeling.
“Ours, ours, ours,”
Their words ring akin to a hymn upon your skin. Waking up something far more primal, even if their claims upon you remained within these four walls.
Slumber finds you quicker than most nights, you fight it off till they are done caring for you. Easing out of you carefully, running a bath of warm water and then showering with you.
Their hands soft, warm, protective. Possessive.
Bucky and Steve kiss their claimed spots on the based of your neck, you sigh in content at the love-bites they’ve left upon you. A silent remind of being theirs and them being yours as you do the same to their skin.
Steve stares at your sleeping form, his jaw tightening when he still sees where John hurt you.
“Careful Steve someone might know you care about her.” Bucky warns in an impersonation of the blonde man.
“Buck,” He groans, they stay quiet as you shift between them, your breathing evening out.
“No, what we did, not standing up for her. Was wrong. Fucking wrong.” Bucky almost yells at him.
“We can’t get in too deep.” Steve reminds him.
“As if we aren’t already.” Bucky scoffs.
Steve is about to say something when Bucky holds up a hand,
“Tell me, when was the last time you were ever truly happy?” Bucky questions.
Steve sighs, looking at you. Knowing Bucky’s answer to the question would involve your name as well.
“The night she decided she wants to watch a movie and cuddle. Then the day we decided to make it a weekly occurrence.” He admits.
Bucky traces a pattern over your cheek. He hates knowing what has to come next, their time with you limited.
Their time to call you theres approaching an end. Today he saw how you responded to being called theirs, he knows you might want more.
Steve sadly gazes at Bucky gazing at you. It’s on the tip of their tongue but they can’t say it. It would only have you be driven away.
The past eight months with you? A miracle no one found out what do you mean to them.
So they would hide behind the lie that they feel nothing for you. That the only time you invoke something within their hearts and minds is when you’re touching them.
Even when you’re the only person they could trust wholeheartedly.
Now.
Bucky howls seeing you staring right at them. The small window their only access to you.
Steve stares at Bucky, the dark chestnut brown fur gleaming under the moonlight.
Bucky looks back to the sandy blonde furred wolf. The two men ran the town with an iron fist and a bite. Their wolf form only known by foes who never lived to tell the story.
They had tracked you down, knowing something was amiss when your scent was lighter at your apartment and you left without saying anything. The whole thing reeked of what they always feared. Someone using you to get to them.
‘Can you see her plate?’ Bucky says a snarl building up in his throat.
‘She hasn’t touched her food.’ Steve recounts, gazing back at you worriedly.
You know they are watching, always knowing that there was probably something they never told you but as if it was said unspoken. You stare at the gleaming blue eyes. They pace the forest restless.
Maybe you are imagining things, your Steve and Bucky could not be, no. You groan for a fifth time. Clutching your stomach, three days without food, you know what is coming.
The blonde woman returns,
“We know you shared your bed with them on multiple occasions, we just would like to know about their business.”
“I do not have the answers for your questions.” You hiss as another sting of pain burns through you.
“I can get you antibiotics for the infection, when did you meet them?” She attempts again.
‘Steve, we need to move in.’ Bucky calls out as he rounds the perimeter.
‘They’re still asking questions and offering medical aid in exchange.’ Steve glowers, he pauses as a car enters the driveway to the manor.
‘Fuckers, this is why we attack.’ Bucky presses his paws deeper into into the mud.
John Walker enters your cell twenty minutes after the blonde woman leaves, time a luxury they offered to you. So you know how long it has been since your men have not brought the sun and moon together to save you.
Nine days and counting.
“Ah, sweetheart, look at you. If you would have come along with me you would not be sick today.” John runs a hand down the back of your hair stopping you from flinching away. He tugs harshly.
“What no sound? They told me you were being quiet. Well but your best friend she, she is very chatty when drunk, spilled all about your little hook ups with Barnes and Rogers. What they even see in you I do not know. Although leaving you in pieces for them to find will be worth the fucking you receive.” His thumb brushes harshly across your mouth, your arms ache at the restraints.
“Then they’ll understand not to fucking mess up my deals and my work, consider yourself more worthy of a status than a fuck toy.”
John forces his thumb into your mouth, you bite down on it tasting blood. He screams pulling away, when he moves to bring down his hand against your cheek; you spit at him.
“You fucking whore.”
‘Steve.’ Bucky warns, not for himself but for the fact that he will not wait to act.
“I’m calling Nat and Sam for back up.” Steve shoots of the messages phasing back into his wolf form.
They charge at the guards on the west end, the doorway closest to get to you.
Phasing in and out to access the doors and take out John’s men.
The clouds clear illuminating your holding cell. You gaze up at the moon as she looks down upon you in blessing. John has you pinned down, his hands trying to pry your legs apart.
“Fuck you.” You spit at him, John looks up as you blink. Your eyes changing shape.
“The fuck?” John gapes, as you convulse the restraints breaking as you phase into your wolf form, towering over his now covering form.
You grin at him, teeth bared. He clambers on his hands and knees towards the door you sink your teeth into his limb dragging him backwards.
He drags his gun out of the holster, holding it up at your snout. You growl as he drops it down. Your paw sinks into his arm marring his flesh.
Ripping off his limbs as his pained screams echo through the cell.
Your wolf takes over, the primal darkness you kept suppressed with herbs and holistic remedies finally freed from shackles and it want to run wild.
The door bursts open two other wolves come snarling in, you pant dropping John’s head from your mouth it rolls down and settles near the dark chestnut wolf’s paw.
Bucky and Steve search for you as they stumble in, pausing when your scent hits them. They stare blankly at your wolf form.
You gape at them, backing away paces then you realise why are their scents so familiar.
They both phase out together,
“Petal.” “Poppet.”
You see their skin littered with pink jags and healing wounds, they came for you?
“You’re a wolf?” Bucky keeps his hands raised so as to not startle you. He understood you may have phased in after a long time.
“I think clearly she is, Bucky.” Steve rolls his eyes.
“i’m trying to be gentle.” He says, you then want to joke that nothing about him is gentle. A sort of snort leaves you indicating your laughter.
“I think she knows you aren’t gentle.” Steve interprets.
“We’ll lead you out, there is a cabin nearby, you may take time to calm down before you can phase out and we have our clothes there so the scents should be comfortable to tolerate.” Bucky comes closer and his hand gently touches your nose, you press lightly against it.
They phase back, flanking your sides, as they lead you to their cabin, rightly so their scents are amplified and the comfort brought forth by it, almost moves you to tears.
Steve enters first, his nose pushes the revolving glass door as it opens wide enough to accommodate wolves, the wooden flooring is warm to the touch and ceilings are high. As if they designed it specifically.
‘Look here if you can hear me.’ Bucky’s voice calls to you.
‘Bucky why do you have to check—,’
‘I can hear you both…’ You cut Steve off.
‘Interesting.’ Bucky says,
‘No shit, but when were we having this discussion? or was it benched due to ‘by flesh and flesh only’?’ You don’t mean to sound rude but you’ve had a pathetic nine days.
‘It, well…’ Steve looks at Bucky, his eyes widen.
‘Oh so now I should lead difficult conversations?’ Bucky glares at Steve and you catch on.
‘That night at the dinner? You were going to break up with me.’ You accuse, both of them look away.
‘It was because, look it had been ten months if it goes on beyond a year we could have turned you on accident. We were already making slip ups by over staying on full moons.’ Steve tries to reason.
‘You, you would not have wanted us had you known.’ Bucky says, padding towards you.
‘Bullshit.’ You bare your teeth at him.
‘Cute.’ Bucky pokes your ear with his nose.
‘Is that not for me to decide?’ You attempt again, ‘I know you both don’t have feelings for me but you could have trusted me with this.’ You look between them, a whine slips past Steve.
‘Don’t have feelings for you? Please Petal tell me you don’t believe that lie.’ Steve implores you to answer.
‘Fuck, Poppet are, you thought we don’t love you? Every waking hour is for you.’ Bucky moves closer you back away.
Steve tries the same and you shift back more touching the wall sideways.
‘Why tell me now? Is it because I am a wolf too. Nine days ago you were going to leave me. Without ever letting me know the truth, maybe you should follow through with that, not because staying is now convenient to the two of you.’ You settle onto the floor, not looking at the two towering wolves who are silent.
‘Why did you not say anything either?’ Steve questions, demanding to know the reason for your silence.
‘I wanted to, I was at that dinner it had been a year almost close enough, but then that blonde woman laced the iPad in front of me, you both were preoccupied and wearing the ties I got you both. So I thought well, what good is any of it, if the two of you are fucking around so I’m just a fuck toy to you right? You were going to discard me for the next one so I’m making your job easier.’ You glance at both of them, Bucky looks at you as if he’s been wounded by your words.
‘Poppet…’ Bucky begs, ‘Please don’t, we can, we can think about this… Talk about this.’
‘I don’t want to, not anymore.’ You say, resting your head back onto your paws.
‘Alright then. We’ll check back up on you in a few hours, when you’re calm enough we can try phasing out.’ Steve moves away phasing into his human form and going up the stairs.
Bucky stays for moment before following suit.
You wake up panting, the feeling of unwanted hands on you pushing you into wakefulness. You gaze down, still in your wolf form.
The click of a door perks your ears as you follow the sound of footsteps on the upper floor.
“Nightmares, Steve, you know how horrible those are.” Bucky’s voice is muffled as though something dampening it.
“Talk softer.” Steve huffs, and their voices are further diluted.
You lay back down, hoping the next bout of sleep is dreamless.
When you wake up next, you’re laying upon soft sheets. You let out a contented sigh, then jolt awake.
“Welcome back to the human side of things, Poppet.” Bucky’s smooth voice washes over you calming your nerves.
At his words you touch your skin, your fur replaced by skin and bone.
“I am very upset with you, Poppet.” He adds, cutting an apple into thin slices. The black knife gleams in the light as he feeds himself the slice.
When he licks his pink lips, your tongue mimics the motion on your own.
“Why?” You look around for Steve, Bucky chuckles.
“Look at you pretending you don’t know why am I upset with you and here I thought, you know me like the back of your hand.” Bucky tuts, the knife cuts into the apple further, he gets up from the chair.
Bucky walks towards you, the slice supported between his thumb and knife. He places the slice against your lips. You lock eyes with him as you eat the slice, the blade feels cold against your lips.
He places the tip of the knife under your chin,
“Can smell your sweet cunt getting hungry for me, Poppet.”
“Bucky—,” He places the flat side of the blade to your lips.
“Shh. Did I allow you to speak? I think you spoke enough earlier.” The blade now trails from your temple to jaw and back to your chin.
The knife is retracted, now being used for its original purpose; the apple. You swallow thickly before eating the second slice offered to you.
He now sits next to you, a determined expression takes over his features.
The apple eaten and discarded.
You move the comforter to make more space for him. Your legs exposed and some how the shirt you were wearing smelled of both of them; cedar, patchouli, amber and oud.
Bucky places his warm hand on your thigh.
“Did you mean it?” He softly massages the flesh that has borne his marks award in pleasure.
“Wha-what?” You look up from where his hand is, his gaze darkens.
“You know, the part where you said you don’t want to be with us anymore.” Bucky continues upward movements, pleased when on instinct your legs part further for him as he inches closer to your cunt.
“I—,” The words caught in your throat when he traces your folds, gathering your slick, and then pinching your clit. You gasp, biting your lip.
“Did you mean it, Poppet?” Bucky questions again, you can’t focus on answering him not when his finger eases by one knuckle into your cunt.
“Bucky,” Your hand grasps his the other stays fisted with the sheet.
“Answer me. Did you mean those words you spat at us? At me?” Bucky takes your hand, you’re on your back both your hands in one of his, pinned down.
His fingers pumping in and out of you squelching sounds filling the room.
As his fingers brush over the spot as they curve inside you, you arch up against him.
“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky,” You chant as you feel the build of your orgasm. Your cunt clenching around his fingers every time he retracts them.
Bucky smirks, watching you, your eyes closed head thrown back and hips meeting each thrust of his fingers.
Just when you can feel the tendrils of your orgasm he stops, the squelch of his fingers leaving the warmth of your cunt have your eyes snap open.
“Just making your job easy.” He teases.
“Bucky please,” You beg.
“Oh Poppet you think I can leave that cunt without cumming?” He pinches your clit again, his jeans undone and cock leaking with pre-cum.
“Stand up, hands against the wall. Shirt off.” He orders, as you comply, he shifts your legs to not be apart, only a small distance.
Bucky stands behind you, easing his cock from between your thighs over your folds, the mirror on the wall showing you how your slick coats his cock.
You only seldom feel the veiny ridges move over your clit as he fucks your thighs. Hands gripping your waist and he watches your tits bounce with each thrust.
“Every inch of your skin, so fucking beautiful, so fuckable, clench your thighs for me, Poppet.” Bucky moans in response as your thighs tighten, your slick creating enough lubrication for him to continue his movements, Bucky’s arm comes down against your ass, a hard spank, you yelp, bending forward and the vein on his cock moves against your clit.
“Gonna cum for me? Gonna be a good little girl? Hmm? Want me to fuck every inch of you right? Look at you wanting to be filled to the hilt be split apart on my cock.” Bucky whispers in your ear.
On the next spank you feel the same ridge, your body complying as pleasure begins to course through you, his hands grab your breasts, tugging and pulling the flesh, watching as your face begins to contort into pleasure.
Bucky knows you won’t last long so he stops and you whimper at the loss of contact he turns you around. Your back against the wall. His hand circles around your throat.
Your eyes sting with tears, as he squeezes just enough.
“Making your job easy aren’t I? Just use your fucking fingers.” Bucky glowers, his cock tucked back into his boxers and he zips his jeans.
His chest gleams with sweat, you want to have your mouth on him. Worshipping him.
Bucky leaves closing the door before you can follow him out. You wait by the door for a few minutes, trying to open it but find that it is locked.
“Bucky? Why is the door locked?” You bang on the door.
“James? What is going on? Can we please talk?” You tug on the doorknobs, it only rattles in its frame.
The sudden coldness of the room gets to you, you scramble to find your shirt but return to stand near the door, trying to pry it open.
“Steve?” You call out, but are greeted with silence. You slide down your back against the door, the slick feels uncomfortable, you pull your knees to your chest.
Did you really hurt them that much? You were hurt as well, if you weren’t who you were nor if the kidnapping happened the dinner would have resulted in your heart being broken.
You rest your head on your knees, closing your eyes as a few tears brim over. They would have just left you, even if they held love for you.
After how long you don’t know, the door clicks open. You look up at the figure entering—Steve.
You stand up quickly wrapping your arms around him, he too was without a shirt and low waisted jeans graced his hips. Steve wraps his arms around you.
“Whats wrong, Petal?” Steve softly questions pulling away to look at you.
“Bucky, he,” you gaze at the door, finding it shut.
“What did he do, Petal?” Steve cups your cheeks,
“He said he’s upset with me, for saying what I did…” You trail off, fingers tugging on the white shirt’s sleeve nervously.
“Well that was upsetting.” Steve lets go of your face, sitting on the arm chair.
“You both were going to leave me.” You say,
“Things changed that night did they not?” Steve counter questions.
You fumble for an answer.
Steve pats his thigh, your limbs carry you to him, “What did Bucky do hmm?”
“He—,” “Ah, ah, show me.”
“But he used his—,” “Use me to show what he did to you.” Steve orders, you frown as his command washes over you.
You grab his hand, his index and middle fingers extended as you lead them to your eager cunt.
Steve taps your clit, “Is this what Bucky did?” You shake your head no.
“Pinched it—ah.” Your thighs shake as Steve pinches your clit, somehow repeating the movements Bucky did on you, you find yourself fucking onto his fingers.
Steve’s eyes darken. “Petal, don’t you want me to taste you?” He asks, you look at him,
“But Steve—,”
“Do you not want to apologise?” Steve chides.
You move back, thinking he wants to kneel.
“Oh no, gather it on your fingers and feed me. Till I tell you to stop.” Steve, watches your hand twitch.
You slowly bring your fingers over your folds, wincing at the puffiness from what Bucky did, the wetness that pooled you gather onto your fingers, bringing them toward’s Steve’s lips.
His warm mouth covers your fingers, sucking on them and his tongue almost mimicking the patterns he makes on your clit against your fingers, his mouth pulls away with a wet plop.
“More.”
Your clit pulses, you circle your clit and tug on your nipples to get yourself wetter, repeating the action from earlier.
Three times you’ve fed him your slick, Steve hums, then clicks his tongue, “I want more, make yourself cum and then feed me, will you Petal? You can do that right? Since you can make informed decisions.” Steves tone is slightly mocking, but the prospect of being able to orgasm too delicious to deny, you rest one hand on his shoulder, the other circles your clit and you sink two fingers inside of you, frustration clouds you.
Your fingers no where close to Steve of Bucky’s thick and long ones.
“Whats wrong Petal?” Steve looks up in concern.
“Doesn’t feel as good…” You admit.
“Do you want Bucky to come help?” Steve brushes his thumb just over your pubic bone watching your stomach clench at the contact.
“Will he?” You ask, wondering if he wanted anything to do with you.
“Why won’t you use your fingers?” You add.
Steve smiles, “I want to be fed, I’m tired, Petal.”
You bite your lip, “Where, where is Bucky?”
“I think if you call out to him, he’d come.”
“He ignored me earlier.” You huff.
“He was just upset, sweetheart.” Steve tells you as if your a child needing to be explained.
“Bucky?” You say, then move closer to the door,
“Petal, keep getting yourself wet.” Steve calls out an afterthought.
You place two fingers against your clit as your other hand opens the door.
“B-bucky?” Your voice shakes as your clit sends waves of ebbing pleasure through you.
“What?” He calls out from the door opposite to your room, his eyes paise on your hand.
“Steve he,” You bite down on your lip as you notices the tent in his jeans.
“I don’t have all night, Poppet.” Bucky rolls his eyes.
“He-he wants to be fed after I cum and, and my fingers—,”
“Don’t feel as good?” Bucky completes, uncrossing the arms across his chest, walking towards you, you moan as he grabs your pussy. Digits guiding yours on how to move.
He wants you back as the steps make you grind over the callous on his index finger.
Steve watches a smirk on his face, they find it so endearing how you fail to realise this is punishment for misbehaving and lying to them.
A cacophony of moans of their names begin to slip past your lips. Your orgasm builds.
Bucky looks at Steve, they both know they’ve edged you enough that you will cum, but they can’t have that.
“Stop, I’m not that hungry,” Steve’s words are like cold water to your fiery veins.
Bucky stops fucking you with his fingers, holding them up for you.
You have a whine caught in your throat.
“Can’t have any of this wasted right?” Bucky chides, “Go on Poppet feed him.”
You whimper as he pushes you forwards.
Steve places a steady hand on your hips, as he waits for you to do what you’re told; he spreads his large hand over your hip, trailing it upwards, over the soft flesh of your stomach, moving upwards then cupping your breast, Bucky does the same to your left.
“I’m waiting, Petal.” Steve reminds you, breaking out of the heady trance they have you in, you rub your fingers over your folds, a needy whimper reaches the pleased ears of Steve and Bucky.
You offer your fingers to Steve, he hums before sucking on each digit and swirling his tongue around them.
He releases your fingers and they release your breasts in tandem. Standing up, walking towards the door leaving you in the room.
You follow them quicker than previous attempts.
“Why are you—,”
“No, Petal, why are you saying no? Over a conversation that could have gone so many different ways?” Steve cuts you off.
“She was making our job easier.” Bucky sneers.
“You both were going to anyways, and those videos and pictures…” You recount.
“Were old, Poppet, we haven’t been with anyone other than you. We don’t want to either.” Bucky cups your cheek.
“But you want to leave us… So maybe you should.” Steve shrugs nonchalantly.
Bucky drops his hand,
“Too bad we couldn’t give you what you want, maybe someone else will. You know best correct?”
Your clit pulses, you know no one will compare to the two of them, no two people could hold a semblance to their beings.
But they were right, if you wanted to leave you should.
Maybe they don’t want to fight harder to have you stay… you nod meekly.
“I’ll leave then…” You mutter.
“Fucks sake.” Bucky mutters as Steve, has you pinned down on the bed.
“Know what Petal,” Steve undoes his jeans, his cock slapping against his abdomen, and lining up with your aching cunt,
“I really do not think you know what is best for you.” He moves his cock over your folds.
“Steve,” You whine, needing more.
“Oh you want my cock? Well, only good girls who want to stay will get it.” His eyes are wild, your breath caught in your throat, he adds more pressure to the grip he hands on your hands.
You gasp, as his tip teases your entrance.
“Steve, please,” You beg, needy, tears brim over at how badly you need them.
“What do you want?” He questions, repeating his teasing movements.
Bucky stands at the edge of the bed, you stare at his cock, lips parting for it.
“Answer him, Poppet, or have you forgotten the manners we taught you?” A sting resounds in the room and pleasured pain courses through you from where Bucky slapped your puffy, aching cunt.
“Would you look at that? She wants us Bucky.”
“She will have to say it though, has to vocalise what she wants and needs.” Bucky grasps your jaw, “The question is will she?”
You stare into Bucky’s eyes, he delivers another slap to your pussy, you clench around Steve’s tip. A moan slips past your lips, you can’t think, can’t speak just need them, why could they not see that?
“Answer us, Poppet, or we can leave again.” He warns.
“Want, want you both, together.” You gasp the words out as Steve bottoms out inside you, hissing as he feels you tight around him.
“Fuck,” He breathes.
“Together Steve,” Bucky reminds, pulling you up as you and Steve kneel on the bed, with him curving inside you the tip of him pushing ever so often over your gspot.
Bucky moves behind you, kneeling as well, his fingers inserted next to Steve’s cock prepping you to take them both. You can’t help the sob of pleasure that breaks from you as Bucky begins to enter you as well, the stretch burns but feels so good.
“Oh, you can take us can’t you, Petal?” Steve’s words have you preen, “Our good girl aren’t you?”
“Feel at her clench, really, our girl, only ours.” Bucky whispers over the shell of your ear.
You moan at their words, they pause allowing you time to adjust to both of them, but you don’t have it in you to be patient, you need them to fuck you, claim you.
You begin to move over their cocks, the amount of wetness helping you. Bucky and Steve glance at each other, moaning as you feel so good around their cocks, using them for your pleasure.
Both men let you set the pace, then one hand each grasps your waist. They both begin to move in tandem, filling you up then moving outward. Moans and whimpers slip out of you, Steve swallows them all down against his lips, Bucky’s lips leave bites and marks over your shoulder and neck.
You begin to meet them with each thrust, knowing all of you are close.
“Fill me up, please, mark, mark and cl-claim,” You gasp as they both some how coordinate their thrusts to keep hitting the spot that has you seeing stars and the waves of pleasure begin to climb across you, waiting to meet the brink to tip you over.
“Going to mark you and keep you as ours, Poppet.” Bucky grunts.
“You belong to us.”
“Bound to us.”
Your orgasm drawing close.
“You’re going to cum for us and take our seed, milk our cocks and stay filled.”
You fall apart at their words, pleasure coursing through you, head to toe and you cum with a silent cry. You feel their cum coating your spasming walls, their movements now sloppier as they ride out their orgasms.
“Because you’re bound to us, little wolf, flesh and flesh only.” Steves voice echos over the ringing in your ears.
“And that heart of yours?” Bucky’s chuckle resounds,
“That flesh belongs to us as well.”
-x-x-x-
A.N: images in the banner are taken from pintrest all credits are to the makers of the edits and image owners.
An Asgardian Wedding! You’ve never left your world before, but your betrothed is eager to show you his. You’d never even expected to meet the God of thunder, let alone be his. Your husband-to-be whisks you away to the planet of his birth just before your nuptials for a special surprise.
Notes: sooooo I don’t know how I feel about this one, it was fun to imagine, hard to write. But it’s all I got! 😭 at least you had some great submissions from other people! also Congrats @boxofbonesfic love! You deserve every follower! 💕
“Surely he explained all of our traditions?” Loki inquires, standing before a set of grand golden doors in a quiet wing of the palace.
“He said it would be nothing I couldn’t handle…”
With a flourish and a flash of green, Loki summons a silky black blindfold. His dark chuckle makes you tense as he takes a cool step behind you and secures it tightly over your eyes, holding your shoulders as he whispers in your ear.
“The task is simple, darling, identify your betrothed caress and see your union prosper…but should you fall prey to false hands be prepared to suffer your shame.”
“What does that mean?” You object as he laughs and urges you over the threshold, your tentative steps the only sound reverberating through the cavernous room.
“Good luck,” Lokis voice slithers from behind you before the door shuts.
The echo of the slam fills your ears. Your shuddering breath hitches in the following silence, vulnerability settling in as you strain to listen for signs of life.
“Let’s begin,” the familiar thunderous voice of your fiancé sounds from somewhere to your right. “Loki, use your magic.”
Your remain still and silent, awaiting further instruction.
“Done,” Thors voice sounds again, though this time from behind you where Loki had been seconds ago.
“Oh, neat party trick, Loki. How have we never tried this before, I could think of so many things –“
“Focus, Fandral.”
Your head whips around in a panic as you follow their discussion, but… they all have that same honey sweet, sonorous voice of Thor. Realization dawns on you, you are going to have to pick the real one among however many decoys.
“Thor, I don’t know about this,” you quiver as you hear each of their footsteps slowly circling you, making it impossible to guess where your fiancé is.
You spin in place, an innocent doe guarding against an unseen pack of wolves. Thor would never hurt you, right? It’s just your nerves.
You flinch and squeak as you hear the first of them approach you, a warm hand grazing down your arm making you leap back and into the chest of another. Familiarly large arms catch each elbow and hold you still.
“Let me touch you, pet,” his voice soothes as you feel the tickle of his fingertips dance across your chest, tracing your collarbone.
“Thor?” You whimper and his rumbling laughter vibrates your back, a sound that used to calm you.
Another grabs your chin, rough thumb gently tugging at your bottom lip, “beautiful.”
Their touch is overwhelming, caressing your arms, kissing your hands, gripping your hips, tickling your neck. You manage to count five of them before you get dizzy with attention, sweeping you away from what the goal here is.
“You can do this,” Thors voice grounds you.
“Maybe try to narrow your options…” another coos before his lips suckle tenderly on your shoulder.
“I think she likes it,” adds the one at your back.
“Do you, pet? Do you enjoy the idea of being taken by many?”
You gasp as a hand snakes under your skirts, finger presses along the damp fabric covering your slit. Your knees buckle but Thors many hands barely let you sag in their hold.
“Yes,” you breathe softly.
“Oh how delightful,” Thor groans as the hand at your cunt presses harder.
The other touches grow more eager, feeding off your tiny whimpers and moans. Teeth scratch and nip at your skin as your hips begin to roll against his thick fingers, a feeling you know well by now.
A harsh slap to your ass reminds you where you are and you sputter out, “w-wait.”
“Do you have your answer?” He asks.
You pull your hand free and grip the hand holding your hip, “not you.”
Thors booming laughter shifts into another’s gruffer voice, “Aye, you caught me my lady.”
You recognize Volstagg’s amused tone then the soft pad of his leather boots as he walks away followed shortly by the scuff of a heavy chair across the floor.
“One down,” the Thor at your back muses as he licks up your neck.
“You, aren’t Thor,” you assert, pointing to the man at your back.
“Dammit,” Fandral whines as the magic drops and he joins Volstagg.
“Clever girl,” one of the remaining Thors praise, his hand drifting down your thigh and curving around to cup your cheek.
The touch feels familiar, Thor loves to fondle your ass. You are about to declare him the real one when he lets out a breathy groan, it’s enough to give you pause. Thor knows you, and that was the sound of someone newly enamored with your body.
“No,” you look toward the man giving your cheek a firm squeeze.
“Ah,” Hogan sighs in disappointment before disappearing.
“Very good,” says one of the final two, tugging your arm so that you slam into his chest. His mouth covers yours in a heated kiss, his tongue dipping into your mouth as you gasp.
The other Thor is at your back, pulling your hips back to grind against his hard cock. “Easy,” he warns, though your unsure if it’s meant for you or the man stealing your breath. “Are you stalling, little girl?“ he whispers into your ear.
The man at your front releases your lip with a pop and slaps your face lightly. “You should know your answer by now,” he agrees. “Choose.”
“I – I…” you reach out blindly, turning so that you can touch each of their identical chests. You try to focus on the way they react as you feel them, before making your final decision.
“Only my Thor could kiss me like that,” you announce, turning toward your fiancé and pulling the blindfold off.
You run your hands up his torso, feeling the firm hot muscles beneath his tunic and smile up at him. His blue eyes glow a bit too brightly, his smile a smidge too wide and in an instant you realize your mistake. Blue shifts to green, blond to black, full lips thinning as his golden skin pales to reveal the victorious visage of Loki.
“I guess you don’t know him as well as you thought,” Loki smirks cruelly.
You turn with a start to find Thor glowering down at you, anger and disappointment radiating from every inch of him. A flicker of lightning sparks in his dark eyes as they snap to his brother behind you.
“Loki,” he growls in warning, puffing out his chest as the sound of thunder cracks beyond the closed doors.
“You should have been honest with her, brother,” Loki chuckles. “Your confidence proves undeserved just as I expected. But you always were too arrogant for your own good.”
“Loki,” Thor growls deeper as Loki tugs your wrist and wraps his arm around your waist.
“Never fear, brother,” Loki coos, brushing his nose up your neck as he stares down your fiancé. “I won’t make you watch. And I shall return her to you in the morning if you still want her.”
“Thor…” you whimper, reaching out as the world is enveloped in a flash of green.
Your head spins like you just spent an hour on a rollercoaster, but you know it been barely a second. Loki spins you around, gripping your arms harshly as you try to blink away your blurred vision. Your hands shove at his firm chest but he doesn’t budge, only pulling you closer as he leans down to place kisses along your jaw.
“Come now, pet. We only have a few hours left before sunrise. Let’s make the most of it.”
Title: Wild Ride (Bucky Barnes As Your Trainee) [Bucky Barnes As SERIES HERE]
Pairing: Bucky x Reader (personal trainer)
Rating: ❗Explicit❗ 18+; minors DNI please
Tags: smut, oral sex, insecurities/body image issues, face-sitting/riding (you can choose to make him the WS or believe his lies whateva!)
Summary: Bucky seeks out a personal trainer, unhappy with his body. You push him to his limits and get rewarded as per above gif. I mean seriously, THIS GIF. I'm dead. Happy 3K followers, @boxofbonesfic. One day, I'll stop writing for your summer challenge, but today is not that day.
You help lots of different people at the gym as a trainer - people who want to lose weight, people who want to gain muscle, people who need regular exercise to help their joints, and so on. Everyone had their own something, and you could relate, having gone through a long phase where you were unhappy with your body. After lots of motivation and hard work, you realized you wanted to help people love themselves, so you became a personal trainer, and kept your rates low and your schedule flexible.
When one Bucky Barnes asks for a personal trainer, you were not expecting him to look like that. After introducing yourselves, you did your best to stay to your script; the first thing to do is to find out their goals and work from there, after all.
“So, what can I help you with? Tell me about your overall health and changes in your body, and any particular goals you have in mind.” You’re not expecting his reply, which was so earnest, it killed you a little bit.
“My weight’s fluctuated a lot, I, uh, I used to fight but it wasn’t really my choice, so after I… retired, I wanted to leave it all behind. Dropped a bunch of weight. Thought if I looked different, I’d feel different.”
“Did you?” You ask, even though his face said it all. He shook his head with a downcast look.
“No. Yes. I - I just felt… weak. I kind of missed my strength but then I felt guilty about wanting to be that person again. The person that hurt people, the person that people are scared of. They - people still look at me like that. They don’t think I’m any different than I used to be. And I just - I don’t know.” You nodded, encouraging him to express how he felt.
“Often times, it’s not so much about what our body looks like, it’s more how we feel about ourselves. Working through the complicated feelings you have associated with your body will be a top priority for us,” you tell him. “Now let’s get you to a healthy point where you’re happy.”
It takes a week before he opens up about his prosthetic. You’d noticed it, of course, but never said anything, and you were rewarded with him telling you on his own. It takes a lot more coaxing for Bucky to start telling you about the struggles he’s had, the guilt he carries for even having those thoughts. He tells you he knows that he’s lucky and there are people who have it worse.
“Okay, okay, hold up,” you stop him mid-rep. “Bucky, you keep comparing yourself to others, did you notice that?” His breathing is slightly elevated, but he doesn’t say anything and waits for you to continue. “Everyone has hardships, yes, but that doesn’t diminish yours. You’ve been through a lot, I can tell. So focus on that - on you.”
The concept seems strange to him, so you keep him talking.
“Tell me one thing you liked about yourself during your fighting career,” you ask. It makes him stutter and nearly drop the bar on his chest.
“Nothing,” he answers a little sharply. You got that answer a lot, unfortunately. People always seem to be self-loathing when they come to ask for your help - that’s exactly why you chose to do this job.
“No, that can’t be true. Even if it was 99% bad, there has to be something that you can say you liked about yourself. Anything at all.” He lifts the weights, resting the bar, even though you didn’t tell him to stop.
“There’s nothing,” he repeats. “It wasn’t 99%, it was 100%. I didn’t do a lick of good. And even now… I’m not sure there’s anything.” He leaves abruptly, and you don’t chase him. You know that he felt cornered, and you don’t blame him for wanting to escape. It was unfortunately part of your job. Besides, he was physically fit as it was, you could tell that much from the parts of him you could see, so the workout was more for the routine and distraction at this point.
He misses two sessions before he comes back, to your relief.
“Bucky, it’s good to see you again,” you smile warmly at him. He swallows thickly, like he doesn’t know what to say, so you wave him on through to the private section of the gym as usual.
“Listen, I’m really sorry about cornering you last time,” you start. “I totally understand that you may not want to talk about it. It’s my job to encourage you, push you a little, but not to push you away, so you just let me know when it gets to be entering that territory where you’re not comfortable, okay? I want this to be a safe and comfortable place for you.”
“Why are you so nice to me?” You notice that his brows are furrowed slightly, his eyes calculating and taking all of you in, as if you were any threat to him. But, you calmly tell him your story, the body image issues, the depression, how much better you felt after talking about it. You tell that even to this day, you still get flashes of that horrendous feeling, and he looks confused by it all.
“But you look…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, and looks away, reigning in the endless compliments swimming around in his brain.
“Remember when I said it’s more about how you feel rather than what you look like? Besides, when you walked in here, I didn’t think there was anything I could do for you, you were already in peak condition.”
“Peak condition, huh?” He chuckles, and just like that, the tension is gone. If flattering him was the way to handle it, no problem.
“Now, let’s get down to business, handsome,” you gesture to the weights.
Things are steady after that, he doesn’t miss a single session, and by the end of a month, he talks to you more easily now. You still haven’t quite breached all his insecurities, but it’s a start. The more worrying part was that you’d grown to really like talking to him, and got to see more of that dry humour once he stopped the self-deprecating jokes. Worst of all, you couldn’t stop staring at him - and not in the way your job required. From the moment you saw him, you’d noticed how attractive he was, but since working with him, it just became more and more obvious. His hair grew out a bit, which made him look younger, and after the conversation about his prosthetic, he’d started wearing short sleeves or going sleeveless.
Today, he’d worn a grey t-shirt that let you see every tremor of his arms as he pushed himself.
“Almost there!” You exclaim as you watch his arms threaten to give out. You’re standing close by, of course, though the weights he was lifting were beyond your limits. You’d been steadily increasing the weight, the count, here and there, to push him as far as he wanted you to. He’s lying on the floor with his weights resting beside him, sweat lining his forehead.
“Bucky, I’m so proud of you! What a wild ride we’ve been on, but look how far you’ve come!” You gush, a swelling feeling of joy in your chest as he actually smiles. His eyes get a glassy look, but you don’t read too much into it.
He still has ten more to do, after a quick break, but he looks eager, happy. He was finally accepting his body as it was, finally seeing the sculpted figure as something to be proud of instead of feeling shame and anger.
“Okay, last ten, are you ready?” You clap, taking your place by his head to spot him. He nods and readjusts his grip on the dumbbells. You count him down, voice full of enthusiasm as you watch with rapt attention. He’s flushed and sweaty, and you don’t think you’d seen a more beautiful sight. His shirt had ridden up and you could see just the slightest bit of his sharp pelvic bones before they disappeared into his shorts. And you bite your lip because you’re very aware of the outline of his dick and try your best not to stare. You feel your body getting excited just looking at it. His last push has him scrunching his face in concentration, and upon victory, he sticks his tongue out and you feel a wave of lust overcome you, thinking about what that tongue could do.
You’re brought back when Bucky drops the dumbbells down and you realize that your counting had faltered while your mind drifted and filled with inappropriate thoughts.
“Distracted, sugar?” He asks, his voice deeper than it normally is and you take a step back jerkily.
“Uh - sorry, no, I -” There’s no excuse, really. You don’t know what to say, and from the smirk on his face, you know that he caught you staring.
“I don’t mind,” he shrugs from his place on the floor, looking up at you with mischievous eyes. Now he wasn’t the only one that looked flushed. You lick your lips subconsciously. His eyes trial down your body -
“Fuck,” he breathes as he zeroes in on the damp patch of your thin leggings.
“Bucky, I -” You’re not what you could possibly say except for apologizing profusely for your unprofessionalism. “I’m sorry, please - don’t - I”
He reaches for your ankle, his grip firm with his thumb stroking you gently.
“I won’t say nothin’,” he promises in a husky voice, tugging you closer. “If you let me have a taste.”
Your brain melts at his implications and you let yourself be manhandled until your legs are untangled from your clothing, revealing your damp panties to him as he makes you sit on his chest. You rise and fall with his breaths as his eyes are fixed on the wet spot against the lace. He hauls you forward, and you worry that you’re crushing him beneath you but he lets out a happy moan against the cloth, sending vibrations right through you. The little strength you had left in holding yourself up is gone and he licks up the lace.
“You like this, baby? You want more?” He teases, his arm wrapping around the back of your leg so he can work his fingers against your clit too. The lace feels rough against your sensitive nub as you keen above him.
“Yes, oh my god, Bucky,” you encourage, desperate for him to strip away the last piece of fabric separating you. He makes sure you’re seated on his face, propped up by nothing but his strength as you lean back, propped up on your elbows with your forearms bracing against Bucky’s abs. Your head looks to the mirror along the wall and it looks like something out of a dream, with Bucky totally surrendering underneath you, your thighs blocking the lewd things he was doing to you.
He hooks one finger around the front of your thong and pulls it to one side and you watch his eyes zero in on you, bare and open for him. You can feel every breath he takes, from the flex of his body underneath you to the hot breath fanning against your skin.
“Please,” you beg, unable to stand his stillness. “Bucky, please, you’re so good to me, don’t stop now.” He savours every bit of you, the stubble of his beard scratching the inside of your thighs and rubbing against your folds. You were in absolute heaven, until he pulls away, letting his head rest on the floor. You’re whimpering above him, you orgasm dancing just out of your reach.
Before you could even ask him what he was doing, he grabbed your asscheeks in each hand and planted you right on his face, the momentum pitching you forward and causing you to brace your hands on the ground above Bucky’s head.
“Ride me, doll,” he rasps. “I wanna feel you use me, and then I wanna taste every bit of you.” Holy fuck if that wasn’t the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to you. With a roll of your hips, you hiss in pure pleasure. Bucky makes sure you don’t hold back, with his arms hooked around the back of your thighs and latched on your hips. He forces your body back onto his tongue every time you move. Your thrusts become more frantic, spurred on by your own faltering breath and Bucky’s delicious groans. His tongue dives into your pussy, curling deep, and you try to back away from the onslaught but Bucky holds you in place.
“So - hng - close, Bu - Bucky,” you pant.
“That’s it, doll. Say my fuckin’ name. Scream it.”
It’s too much - it’s too -
“Bucky!” You cry out, as your orgasm slams into you like a brick wall. Your arms give out, and you collapse onto your forearms, head braced against the back of your hands. His tongue flickers still inside you, and he seals his lips against you, sucking as you still try to wriggle away. “Ah, fuck, fuck,” you practically sob, so sensitive that every move he makes has you shaking against him.
“You taste like heaven, doll,” he murmurs against you, causing your thighs to clench again. You definitely don’t have the strength to stand, so you meekly roll off of him and catch your breath, as if you had been the one to work out today. When you blink your eyes open, Bucky's laying on his side, head propped up on one arm. He licks his lips obscenely, not even getting half of the glistening juices off his face. You groan at the sight and force yourself to look away - he already made you come undone, you can’t possibly handle more.
“Wild ride, huh?” He asks cheekily, looking far too pleased with himself.
“Oh, I’ll show you a wild ride,” you retort, not that you could be taken very seriously with your thong soaked through and your leggings in a bunch on the floor.
“Hm. Looking forward to it.”
💖 Thank you for reading! Hopefully you’ve enjoyed enough to check out the rest of the series!
🙏 Thank you as always for getting to this point! If you’ve enjoyed this, please consider reblogging to help me share 💟
