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#synths8kspookychallenge
gotnofucks · 3 years
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A Sack Of Skin
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Pairing: Ghost!Bucky x Reader, Possessed!Steve x Reader
Summary: You had thought burying him would have rid you of him. But he came back to haunt you in the worst way possible.
Words: 767
Warning: Non-con, dub-con, murder, ghost possession, implied necromancy, forced infidelity (lmao idk?), 18 + ONLY
A/N: Written for @syntheticavenger​ 8k Spooky Challenge to celebrate 8k followers! Congratulations Synth! You’re one of the best writers I’ve known on this site, and also the kindest! 
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It was embarrassing how long it took you to realize the truth. There were numerous hints dropped, hundreds of words spoken directly into your ear, but you didn’t know they didn’t come from the mouth that whispered them. You were too enchanted by the blond-haired soldier to realize what he was hiding within. Truth was staring you right in the face. Literally.
“Hello doll.” He said. His words, but not his face, not his body. Steve never called you doll. It was always darling or sweetie. The only person who ever called you doll was buried 6 feet under, away from you. You thought he couldn’t hurt you again, that he couldn’t touch you again. But he can. He had been touching you. For days.
Bucky Barnes was in Steve’s body, and you could only watch in horror as he touched you with your husband’s touch, watched you with your husband’s eyes and fucked you every night with your husband’s cock.
“How?” You sputtered, stumbling away from him. He smirked, twisting your Steve’s face into that predatory look that you had never seen there. Your Steve didn’t look at you this way, like you were something to be devoured. He loved you, he revered you. He worshiped you.
Bucky only wanted to own you.
“Remember how you put that bullet in my head and made it look like an accident?” Bucky asked casually but hearing it in Steve’s voice had you flinching. It was a secret you had kept from him most ardently. You didn’t want to kill Bucky, but you had to. You’d had enough of him sneaking into your room when Steve was on missions and violating his best friend’s trust as well as yours. Steve would have been devastated. If you knew him at all, he would have killed Bucky himself. And so, you saved him from sinning but committing it yourself.
Your trembling frame amused Bucky, and he circled you, chuckling darkly as he watched you desperately trying to keep away. There was nowhere to go. Almost unwittingly, you had cornered yourself against the wall, slumping against it and down, sobbing. He came closer and knelt before you, looking just like the man you loved. But harboring the man you hated too.
“Steve missed me.” He said, brushing your cheek with his knuckles. “He couldn’t cope with my loss. It was sudden and it drove him nearly insane. So, he did the unthinkable. He stole some rituals from Stephen Strange, trying to bring me back. He succeeded, but not completely. My body is gone, but my soul still lingers on.”
His arms came around you and you trashed, trying to push him away. You cried when he carried you in his arms to the bed that was yours to share with Steve. In body and in soul. Bucky had sullied it before his death. He would sully it after too.
“Leave me!” You cried, punching against his shoulders as he settled over you and forced your legs apart. “What have you done to Steve? GET OUT OF HIM!”
Bucky chuckled nastily, fingers roving over your body in a familiar caress that broke your heart. They were Steve’s fingers. They were his eyes. It was still his heart that you heard beating. Your body reacted unconsciously, melting beneath the touch that was at once venom and elixir.
“You don’t get it, do you doll?” He asked, fingers finding your moist center and humming at the wetness there. “I didn’t enter him myself. He invited me.”
You shrieked as his finger was replaced by his cock, your husband and your tormentor both one and the same. Hands that had held you gently bruised against you, and you couldn’t help but keen in pleasure. You could only see Steve, despite knowing it wasn’t him.
“Steve invited me to share his life.” Bucky said, grunting as he hit deep inside you. “He invited me to share everything, as we have always done. Even you.”
With the world whirling, you gasped and grabbed his face, pulling close until your eyes burnt into his. With all the love in your heart, you whispered your husband’s name.
“Steve, please.”
Underneath the darkness of the blue, swam the tender look you knew. He was still there, still awake inside his body. The look on his face turned to one you knew, one you adored. Until it turned apologetic.
“Darling, I am so sorry. I couldn’t leave him in there. He is here to stay.” He kissed you, with his soul or Bucky’s you didn’t know. It did not matter anymore.
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navybrat817 · 3 years
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This Is the Hunt
Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Soft!Dark Female Reader Summary: Ransom likes the hunt, especially when you turn him down. Word Count: Almost 800 Warnings: Threat of sexual assault, non-con touching (do not read it this upsets you!), misogynistic thoughts, implied major character death, swearing, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. A/N: A Sinday treat for @syntheticavenger​ 's 8k Spooky Challenge. Congrats, lovely! It was a fun challenge to keep this to less than 800 words!
Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog ​ for new fics and notifications. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please comment and reblog if you’re inclined! 18+ please!!! - Banners by the lovely @its-just-may ​.
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Ransom didn't like the word no. Call him spoiled or egotistical, but he was a man who got what he wanted. Tonight, he wanted you. And he wouldn't let anything get in his way of his goal.
He knew your type… You looked innocent enough, but the revealing "costume" screamed that you were an attention whore. Hell, you'd probably cream your panties the moment he took control. He wondered if you'd drip when you were choking on his cock. 
His hunger for you grew as you turned down offers for drinks. He was going to have you and you'd thank him for giving you the fuck of your life. You'd probably beg him for more like a cock drunk slut. Maybe, you'd cry when he left.
Pathetic.
Flashing his signature smirk as he made his way over, he ignored your feigned look of disinterest. It made the hunt more exciting. "So… What are you supposed to be? A siren? Vampire?"
You glanced down at your dress and cape with a shrug. "Just felt like dressing up."
"And dress up you did," he said, running a finger down your arm. Your skin felt so warm. How hot would your pussy feel? "Let me buy you a drink."
"No, thanks. I'm waiting for my friends," you said politely. 
"You don't have to worry about that since I'm here," Ransom said, putting the right amount of charm in his smile. "C'mon. One drink."
You took a step back, giving him a once over. "I appreciate the offer, but no thanks."
He chuckled after a moment. Were you actually turning him down? "Listen, pumpkin-"
"No, you listen. There are plenty of girls here who would love a drink, but I am not one of them. I would appreciate it if you left me alone."
Blood boiled in Ransom's veins as he leaned in close. Who the fuck did you think you were to talk to him like that? "If you wanted to be left alone, why did you dress like a slut?"
Anger flashed in your eyes as you grabbed the nearest drink and threw it in his face. "Go fuck yourself," you snapped, spinning on your heels and storming away. 
"Bitch!" he yelled, wiping the liquid from his eyes. A few people glanced his way as he pushed through the crowd, looking for you. It wasn't enough for you to turn him down, but humiliate him in the process?
Fuck. That. 
The cool night air hit him as he went outside, looking both ways. His teeth flashed as he spotted you walking, quickly heading in your direction. "Where are you going, pumpkin?"
You looked back for a second before you began to run, your cape flowing behind you with each step. He quickly gained on you, tempted to tackle you on the sidewalk. Would anyone stop him if he did?
He smirked again when you turned into an alley. He couldn't recollect the last time he was this excited, but he'd still make you pay. "Too easy," he chuckled, barely out of breath as he followed. It gave him a chance to take in your form in the dim light, frantically searching for a way out. "Why run if you didn't want me to catch you?" he taunted as he stomped over, grabbing your arm.
You shrieked as he pushed you against the bricks. "Wait-"
"I'm not waiting, you fucking bitch," he snarled as he shoved his leg between your thighs, making your costume ride up. He leaned in close, so you could feel his breath. "You're wet. I can feel it. Knew you'd be a slut."
You trembled as he rocked his knee against your heat. "...I like the chase."
"I don't give a shit what you like. I wanted to make you feel good… but now I want it to hurt."
Your laughter surprised him. "Oh… it'll hurt."
Ransom didn't register the movement behind him until he felt a sharp pain in his neck. He didn't even have a chance to scream as someone pulled him away from you, blood flowing from his wound as his back hit the ground. He sputtered as he tried to cover it with his hand, seeing two pairs of glowing eyes staring down at him. Who, or what, the fuck were they?!
"I told you…" you said calmly as you pushed yourself off the wall and fixed your dress. "I was waiting for my friends. Well… boyfriends. And they don't like others touching me."
"What… the fuck?" Ransom coughed as you crouched down and smiled. He was wrong… There was nothing innocent about you.
"Men like you are all the same. It's pathetic," you taunted as you patted his cheek. "Now stay still. My boyfriends are hungry."
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The Lion
Bucky x Witch!Reader
Summary: being a witch in modern times is not easy, you regret a spell you casted but have to deal with the consequences.
Word count: 800
Warnings: fluff, Light witchcraft, cursing(the non-witchy type)
A/N: this is the first out of three drabbles I am doing for @syntheticavenger 8k Spooky Challenge. This essentially can be read as standalone drabbles but the full 3/3 miniseries is called The Narnia Witch! I'll post the second part tomorrow and the final part on Halloween/Samhain! Lmk if you want to be tagged! This is a witch reader (she is also pagan).
No one is allowed to repost my writing, steal, copy or translate my work! The only place my writing can be in is on my own blog! Plagiarism is a crime.
Masterlist
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Thunder boomed outside as you stirred the pot in your hands, using the lightning as a light in the room as you read the recipe.
"Just a bit of cinnamon…" you mumbled to yourself as you paced through the kitchen. You peppered the cinnamon in and it caught on fire. "Oh for fuck's sake settle down."
You continued on with the recipe and a few ingredients later and some words whispered the potion was ready and you were beamed to try it out.
Drinking the liquid you felt a slight burn in your throat, closing your eyes you felt the tingles and let them take you. The next thing you felt was hardwood against your back and you opened your eyes to darkness- and then you heard noises and saw a silver of light.
You pushed forward out of the closet and found yourself stumbling into an unknown room, and suddenly the voices came to a halt. You looked up to find an unfamiliar place and 2 pairs of blue eyes staring at you.
Crap. You recognized them as Avengers and your mouth went dry, you knew you had to get out of here before they got out of their confusion.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to go all Monsters Inc. on you guys." You let out a nervous chuckle, chastising yourself for giving that potion a try.
"You mean like Narnia?" Bucky asked you. And you knew you couldn't look into his eyes for that long.
"Oh, yeah that's better." You nodded to him before raising your wrist, aiming to go back home.
"How did you get here? Who are-" you were gone before Steve could finish talking, vanishing into thin air.
"F.R.I.D.A.Y get Tony, an enhanced girl breached our compound."
"So, what is exactly our plan here?" Bucky asked Steve, as they advanced through the coarse woods with guns packed away- for now.
"Well, Tony couldn't find anything about her besides a trail leading to an open spot in this forest, so we don't know who she is or of her capabilities-"
"So we're going in without a plan?" Bucky groaned at his friend- some things never change.
"It's fine, Bucky, we don't know for sure if she is hostile- that's what we are going to check."
As they advanced into the woods, the atmosphere changed- and it had Bucky's hair stand up, nerves assembling as cold chill passed through him. A shared look with Steve let him know he was feeling it too. The shadows seemed fuller now, darker, as if they are swallowing the light instead of hiding from it.
The clearing in the middle of the woods was now in sight, light was shining on the solitary house. Now walking with their holsters open, ready in anticipation for whatever the tension ahead held.
Then Bucky heard a deep loud growl, to his right he saw a creature- a lion. Black fur graced it, and as tall as the two supersoldiers, his mane seemed to form smoke around the beast. But the worst part- the deep red eyes that pierced Bucky's breath from his lungs.
And then the lion was rushing towards them.
The beast roared as it charged at Bucky. Pulling out his gun, Bucky shot towards the animal but it didn't seem to have any effect on it. Steve came to Bucky's side and put the shield in front of the two of them, scratching tore the shield across the field and a force blew both Steve and Bucky back. The lion knocked Steve away and swung his head back as Bucky got up to try and hurt the beast with his knife; Bucky held his vibranium hand forward as the black lion opened its jaw to attack. Its sharp teeth sunk into the metal trying to pierce through the vibranium as Bucky fought back to try and stab the lion.
You sat in your house facing the window, looking at the fight as your projection protected your house- and then the lion started to hurt Bucky. You rose up from the chair, changing the enchantment, your black dress swirling around your legs.
"Don't hurt the brunet," you whispered, you wished you'd never given into temptation. "Keep them away from me."
Your glowing eyes faded when his eyes briefly caught yours from across the field- your breath stopping for a moment, you chastised yourself for it- it's only a matter of time now.
The lion backed away and a second later you appeared in front of him in a dark mist.
"Leave me alone, and my pet won't hurt you." You threatened the blond before disappearing once again, lion fading to dust.
Back at home you watched them walk away; you closed the spell book shut and sighed.
"I should have never casted that soulmate spell."
Taglist: : @callmeluna @sstanbarnes @buckys-other-punk @drabblewithfrannybarnes @easygoingtheatre @that-one-person @justab-eautifulmess @onceupona-happilyeverafter @wipplogg @supraveng @ayybtch @kitkatd7 @chrissquares @make-me-imagine @jessalyn-jpeg
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wakingbeauty · 3 years
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Summary: A delivery takes an unexpected turn when the tip you receive is more than you bargained for.
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader
Word Count: 797
Warnings: Dubcon, Blood
Author’s Note: Thank you again to my wonderful beta @river-soul for helping me <3. This is inspired by Door Dashing late at night with my sister. This is for @syntheticavenger‘s 8k challenge. Congrats on the followers you deserve every single one!
It had taken you half an hour to reach the house normally you wouldn't take an order so far away, but the tip was insane and more than made up for the drive. You'd come from one of the finest and most expensive steakhouses in Boston, driving all the way from the harbor to the middle of the woods. Honestly, you hadn't even realized that place accepted DoorDash orders. 
Closing the car door, you hugged your light jacket closer to your body. The autumn night air was brisk with a cold breeze heralding the oncoming of winter blowing leaves around the ground. Holding the bag of food under one arm, you walked up the long stone path to the house. Pausing, you shook your phone, turning on the light to spot the front door. Everything was glass and looked the same, it was almost impossible to figure out where it was. The house was completely dark though you thought you could see a dim light further within. Biting your lip, you unlocked your phone and were about to call them when the outside lights suddenly flashed on.
You would have rather dropped the food at the door, but he asked you to hand it off to him. Now that you could figure out where the door was, you had no excuse but to do as he requested. Something about this place was putting you on edge. Perhaps it was the fact that it was in the middle of the woods or maybe it was the vintage BMW outside. There was just something that put you on edge. You wanted to keep your phone light on, but didn’t want to be rude. 
Being around such displays of money made you uncomfortable, you were just trying to earn a little extra on the side to help cover bills. This guy, Ransom, weird name in your opinion, well he obviously had money to waste. He’d ordered an outrageously expensive, blue rare aged steak and an even pricier bottle of wine. You had to google what it was, you didn’t even know steak so rare existed. 
Keeping a firm grasp on the bags, you rang the doorbell and you waited for him, your boots tapping nervously on the stone. You could see more lights turning on in the house as he made his way to the door. Swallowing heavily, you were taken aback by him. You hadn’t expected someone so young and handsome. Fuck and here you were looking like a slob in leggings and a light winter jacket with no make-up on.
He opened the door and the warmth of the house flooded out, making you long for the warmth of your car. Clearing your throat you awkwardly smiled, “Ah hi, I’m here with your Doordash order.”
“Right. Hold on, let me get you an extra tip. You know not many people are willing to drive out here for me.” There was a hint of a smirk on his lips as he looked you over before nodding in acknowledgment.
You really wanted to get this over with, but he was already paying you more than you’d normally make in a night. If he was going to offer you more you weren’t about to refuse. He left your sight for a moment before coming back with a stack of bills in his hand. You tried to school your expression as you were sure he wasn’t giving you anything big, but to your shock, he started counting tens. Handing you the money he slid his hand over yours, “This is a little something for bringing such delicious food out to me.” Grasping the money in your hand you offered him his food when he pulled you in against his chest. As he buried his teeth in your throat you gasped slowly, trying to process what was happening. A moment later the pain rushed in with a warm tingle that you recognized as your own blood dribbling down your front. A tear fell from your eyes as you realized this was your end. 
Only as suddenly as the pain came, an overwhelming sensation pushed it away. Every nerve ending was alive with pleasure. The pull of blood from your body felt as though you were floating. You could feel yourself drifting further away, even as an orgasm ripped through your body, tearing a low moan from your throat.
The bags fell from your hand, and the wine bottle breaking was a distant sound in your ears. Barely aware of your surroundings you felt him pull away, running his fingers tips over his bite before he scooped you up in his arms.  The last thing you remembered after he pulled you closer to his body was the door shutting
Who knew vampires were real?
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kthynes · 3 years
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THE LYCANTHROPES
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pairing: werewolf!ari levinson x fem!reader
summary: Ari, after returning from his first shift, adamantly shows you nothing but love and yearning.
word count: 786
warnings: SMUT / 18+ nsfw — MINORS DNI. Contains the following acts: fingering, slight marking.
authors note: this is my submission for @syntheticavenger 8k spooky challenge. Congrats on reaching this milestone ma! 🧡
boo! this has not been beta’d — any mistakes are my own 😱
The moon was still a luminiferous ether. Loud gasping breaths perforate the shared silence, sifting through the abandoned loft like a timed reaper. For the first time in a long time you weren’t alone.
“Hi.” Ari purrs a warm welcome that rumbles deep in the hollows of his chest.
“I—“ Your tremulous hands cradle the side of his apparent face that casts from the shadows. You’re soulfully relieved that he had finally made it back to you after going rogue for a few known weeks. He had no choice. His destiny was a decrepit calling.
“Angel.” He coaxes in a featherlight whisper. You observe his indifference, vaguely forgetful. His swaying auburn hair is outgrown well past his shoulders, he’s covered in dirt and debris, clothes tattered. His sultry Arabian tanned skin scarred with silvering wounds. The sight is magnanimous. You feel the anecdotal wolfsbane, notwithstanding as it thickly pulses through his veins after pinning you his captive.
There’s that colicky, lack of self control that tightens his hold.
Ari was ultimately looking for a repentant release. His beautiful, glittery now yellow-blue eyes were trained on yours, searching hard and long— wincing with beguiled pain. The feel of his large leathery hands glide over the pearly white slip you have on, bunching the material into his hoovered fists. He’d silken every concealed curve with earnest desire that clawed him inside out. You were both pressed chest to chest, your back against the cool glass sliding door he snuck in through.
“You’re you.” You muse, eyes heavily focused on the man before you. Standing nose to nose, your thumb traces out a fresh wound along his cheekbone that soon heals itself. You can’t help but innocently gasp in awe, a monster and a man.
“And more.” He drags his nose down your jaw, finally resting in the crook of your neck, just below your ear and inhaling your natural scent. A process of familiarization that has his inner wolf howling. “I broke nearly every bone in my body just so I could phase.”
“I didn’t think I would make it.” His cracked lips tickle your corded jugular with anticipation. “But that’s when I realized…”
You involuntarily shiver, a low slither that riffs from the base of your coccyx up to your sternum where your heart beats an unsteady tempo. Ari’s heightened senses could trace out each rhythmic murmur, smiling how endowed you became, how dire he was to make you his.
“I’m cursed.” Ari dejects, melding his large form into yours. His teeth lightly scrape the base of your neck, contemplating whether or not he could mark you this instant. His wolf brain was harping him to do so. He chose to wait.
“Every lunar eclipse would turn me, my anger in the moment could be monstrous. I wouldn’t be the man you know and trust…” He impulsively latches and suctions on the thin layer of flesh, leaving a light, patchy bruise to coagulate. You erupt, arousing a gruff moan that has Ari rucking up your nightie higher, completely exposing yourself to him. “I’d be—“
“Mine. You’d be mine, Ari.” You say and then mewl the very second his rough digits slip into your warm heat.
“As I’d be yours.” He affirms, planting a firm, long kiss on your lips. There’s a fraction of stillness that intensifies with each squelching thrust. Your cunt quells his burning fingers that build up all the right kind of friction. Your right leg hangs off his hip, toes pointed down as you arch your back, keeling into his lewd touches. He growls in your ear a mammoth urge and arbitration. It turns your eyes into the back of your skull. “Our being goes on because we sing it anew.”
Upon the consummate confession, you expend a calamitous cry, your warm spend coating his fingers, slick as they continue to oscillate the last of your pulsing orgasm. Ari could piston in you like this until the come of dawn. But then your fragile facial expressions were humanistic for the animal in him, they kept him subservient at most.
His free hand caresses your sweaty cheek, your breathing impaled, eyes euphorically closed as he drags his fingers out of you. You’re empty and clenching around nothing. The adjustment gashes you the second Ari slots his lips against yours, moving with rampant fervour.
There’s a far howling wail, a universal pack cry. Ari hums and smiles. “That’s me.”
“Or me.” Your eyes snap open, ciphering a vibrant violet aura that shows for a coveted Luna that lived an unassuming voyeur on earth. Upon seeing your fanged resolve, Ari riles up a stentorian Alpha growl and cages you in with his bracing forearms.
“I should’ve known.”
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cryptidcasanova · 3 years
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Stolen Relics
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Jotun!Loki x Reader
Summary: Maybe you should have left the foreign relic where you found it. But then again, glorious purpose awaits.
A/N: Soooo...here’s the thing. I had the most vivid dream and wrote this start to finish in record time trying to remember all of it. 
And then I went in and would you look at that? It’s just under 800 words (797). So I changed it just a little to add Jotun!Loki, you know, because who wouldn’t love a strong and imposing frost giant chasing after them?
This is for the lovely @syntheticavenger and her 8k Spooky writing challenge! Happy haunting, and congrats again Synth! I’m so happy for you!
Dividers by the talented @firefly-graphics​!
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It was a chase.
Vaguely you knew, in the back of your mind, that you were on the run from someone. From something.
And they knew it too.
The game of cat and mouse didn’t frighten you as it should have. Perhaps deep down, hidden away in your subconscious you had been there before. Perhaps this was where you were supposed to be.
And even worse, you wanted to be captured.
You knew it was wrong, but in a faraway dream you remembered them. Him. You remembered him.
It made your belly ache - no - it made your belly burn in anticipation.
But you kept running down the familiar halls, deeper into the coastal mountain deep. It all started when you stumbled upon that staff. The dreams. The feelings.
You ran past your excavation team, your found family over the years, and a thought struck you.
Could they see him following you? But no one stopped.
No, you reserved.
No, they couldn’t see him.
He was your shadow, and his heavy gaze kept goosebumps on your arms. But you kept running. Deep down you knew he relished in the chase.
You jogged with little urgency, hearing the thrumming pulse in your ears, and glanced behind you. He was there in the shadows. He was matching your pace.
Deeper you ran, past the familiar tunnels onward. You had never wandered this far before. These mountain paths ran deep. You were getting lost.
But that didn’t deter you. You turned again, seeing his steps emerging from the shadows. A slow, half smile formed on your face.
You kept going.
A vague inclination of what would happen when he would catch you - when you would let him catch you - burned at your senses.
He would ravage you. It had happened before, in a dream. But this was no dream. You desperately hoped it wasn’t a dream.
You thought about your adversary. Did you know him? On a deeper, personal level you must have.
He was coming for you, not any of the others.
And he was imposing. He must have stood taller than any man. Perhaps he was seven, or eight feet tall. But what was he? Who was he?
You had no more time to think about it. The breath was stolen from your lungs and you stopped in your tracks.
It was him. He was magic.
It was a reminder, a thrilling reminder that he had the power here. As you looked back down the hall your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you saw him emerge from the shadows.
He had the power, and you were okay with that.
You gasped for breath, struggling to find air and turned but stopped at a wall of glass.
Glass?
There was a wall of glass that stretched across the room, hundreds of feet below the surface of the earth and on the other side there was water. The mountain’s hidden oasis was locked up and hidden away.
Atlantis.
No. That’s what you called it. But it had a different name.
Jotunheim.
How did you know that? Your eyes blurred with tears.
You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. An overwhelming emotion overtook you.
He was bringing you here all along.
You took another step forward but collapsed against the cold concrete. A broken cry passed your lips.
Your limbs buzzed as you looked back out the glass pane.
An entire civilization was lost under the surface. Even with all of your exploring, all of your work, you could have never had expected to see this.
The other side of the glass was dark and frightening but you could see the outline of ruins. Treasures. It was an abandoned, untouched world.
His world.
A slow swish of fabric caught your eye. He was there now, closer than he had ever been. The blue, no, green robe was one of importance. He crouched down and reached down with a large, gentle palm, cupping the side of your face.
He was cold. His fingers were ice. You blinked, but your gaze was blurry.
And when you looked at him you felt faint.
He was breathtaking. He was sculpted from the ice, the dark ridges of his face leading to piercing red eyes.
You had a moment, only one moment of lucidity before going limp in his hold.
And he was there to catch you. You were soft and delicate and compliant, and he knew this was how it was going to end. It was always going to be this way.
He could manipulate your dreams and your memories, but the God of Mischief couldn’t manipulate the way you felt.
You indulged him. You wanted him.
And after all his waiting the chase was over. He was going to rebuild his kingdom.
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spookiekewchie · 3 years
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the dreadful need in the devotee
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Series Masterlist
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Characters: vampire!Bucky Barnes x siren!reader
Summary: It’s a dreadful need, and only you can fill it for him.
part one: imagine being loved by me...
part two: the last witness...
part three: the sweet feeling of release...
A/N:  I don't know if this series counts as dark or not so just in case please be mindful of the warnings on each part and understand that you are responsible for your own media consumption. This is for @syntheticavenger's 8k challenge I chose Talk by Hozier to help come up with the plot. The moodboard is by me, but the image of bucky is a manip made by 0-ves-0 hence the watermark being left in.
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The Wardrobe
Bucky x Witch!Reader
Summary: being a witch in modern times is not easy, you regret a spell you casted but have to deal with the consequences.
Word count: 800
Warnings: fluff, Light witchcraft, cursing(the non-witchy type)
A/N: this is the last one out of three drabbles I am doing for @syntheticavenger 8k Spooky Challenge. The full 3/3 miniseries is called The Narnia Witch! Happy Halloween/Samhain!
No one is allowed to repost my writing, steal, copy or translate my work! The only place my writing can be in is on my own blog! Plagiarism is a crime.
Masterlist
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You sat at the kitchen table with the trickster god in front of you, you were frustrated and knew it's why he showed up.
"You can't blame me for this, darling." You shook your head at him, he was shamelessly smirking.
"You pestered me for months now to contact my soulmate and find information about him!" you knew he would only do things that'll help you, and you knew you were having fun with Bucky, but Odin's beard you were just as spiteful as the trickster. "I mean, I knew about my past life being in Brooklyn- but you said in that lifetime I lost my soulmate early on, how was I supposed to know that for him it is the same lifetime?"
Pieces were falling into place.
"You were the one to make the potion." He joked when you pointed an accusing finger at him.
"Yeah, because last time I said no when you suggested I learn about him more you threw my plate off the table! And don't say you didn't because I felt you laughing!" you remembered the shattered plate on the floor- you didn't talk to him for the rest of the day.
"Perhaps… aren't you feeling more content now?" He had a point.
Months went by and while you were sure Bucky must be confused of the sudden quick feelings he had caught- he didn't do anything against them, for that you were thankful.
Just last night, he sought you at night when he couldn't sleep. You talked to him about your magic and he shared stories from his childhood. You put illusions on the ceiling of your room, hoping the view of the stars will help relax him. Bucky really just needed you to relax, he felt an instant connection to you, he couldn't explain it but he didn't need to- he felt it.
With every second he spent next to you he felt as if puzzle pieces were piecing together a puzzle he didn't know he had to solve.
That night he fell asleep next to you, he wished to see your face when he woke up every morning, he was adamant on making you his girl.
"Do you think I should do it? I mean, it feels right since she's magic-" Bucky rambled to Steve who sat next to him in the living room.
"She's a witch, you say she's magic," Steve teased his friend, he'd never seen him crushing like this, "But yes, you should ask her out for the Halloween party, tell her how you feel."
You walked into the room and smiled at the two before taking a seat next to Bucky.
"Do you mind if I watch here?"
"Sure, doll," Bucky hesitantly turned his head to Steve who urged him to ask you the question. "So, doll, will you- are you coming to Tony's Halloween party this week?"
"Oh, no- I don't celebrate Halloween. I celebrate Samhain; I'll stay at home for that one, bake cooking and talk to Loki probably. I think I'll redo my home sigils too." You shrugged, not noticing Bucky's crestfallen face.
"Why would you be with Loki?"
"He's my patron deity," you laughed to avoid those blue eyes. Was that a hint of jealousy?
"Isn't he in Asgard?" Steve asked.
"He is, it doesn't mean he isn't with me." You were about to explain when you felt a pinch in your side, making you yelp. "Oh stop it!"
"Doll?"
"Oh, Loki is pinching me, he's trying to annoy me, must've heard I was talking about him." Bucky chuckled and without thought pulled you to him, with a protective arm around you.
"Don't worry, I'll protect you from the mean god." Your face heated up when you realized how close you were to Bucky now. You knew Loki did that on purpose.
"My hero," you gave Bucky a kiss on the cheek.
October 31st came around and you weren't as excited as usual. You wanted to spend this special day with Bucky. You couldn't make your way through the second soul cookie you made. You looked at the movie playing on the TV when you got an idea and went to your wardrobe.
Bucky stood alone at the bar, he wished you were here, maybe he should've asked to come and celebrate with you.
"Indiana Jones, huh? You look handsome." Your sweet voice came suddenly behind him and he turned around to see you in a white gown.
"What are you?"
"The witch from Narnia, do you like it?"
"I love it, doll." He looked into your eyes and there was so much he wanted to say, "I wanted to ask you…"
"Ask me." You stepped closer to him, almost touching.
"Will you go out with me?"
You smiled and answered with a kiss.
Taglist: : @callmeluna @sstanbarnes @buckys-other-punk @drabblewithfrannybarnes @easygoingtheatre @that-one-person @justab-eautifulmess @onceupona-happilyeverafter @wipplogg @supraveng @ayybtch @kitkatd7 @chrissquares @make-me-imagine @jessalyn-jpeg @learisa @fanfictiontrash9
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captainapple · 3 years
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Irreplaceable
Pairing: Dark! Steve Rogers X Reader
Warning: Dark fic (Halloween themed), mention of dead body, viewer discretion advised.
Word Count: 531
Summary: You were irreplaceable.
A/N: My first time ever writing horror story. I hope it's not confusing. Submitted for @syntheticavenger Spooky Challenge. Also, Happy Halloween everyone!
MASTERLIST
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“C’mon buddy! It’s time for you to join us.”
Steve opened the front door and let his dog in. The dog wiggled and rain straight to the kitchen, must be smelling the dinner that had been prepared. It was a homely meal that Steve liked. It was made with the recipe that his mother left to you. The plates were already arranged alongside some napkins folded into cute animals. Steve learnt how to fold it as he wanted to cheer you up in the kitchen. Both of you were not on a speaking term since the heated argument a week ago. The dinner was an effort to make things work.
The oven dinged. Steve went to take out the food. As if on cue, the dog started to hop around Steve while his eyes were following the tray on Steve’s hands. It barked excitedly as the smell of the food spread in the kitchen.
“Alright. I’m going to take your food, buddy.”
Steve scrambled the top shelf to get a can of wet dog food. He opened the can easily and put the food into the dog’s bowl. He grinned as he watched the dog happily munched its food. Before he scooped some of his food, he took a little portion and put it in your plate. You did not say anything but looked at your plate. Clearly, mannerism was something that cannot be separated from him. Something that made you swoon over him years ago.
There were lots of things that made him happy, his ma’s food was one of them. Tonight, the food tasted just like the one that his ma made when he was still a scrawny kid from Brooklyn. His blue eyes lit up, showing the clearest blue as he got excited. But his expression changed when he saw you barely touched anything on your plate.
“Doll, why don’t you eat?”
You did not answer. He clearly got more worried. His hand cupped your cheek and his thumb brushed over it. His lashes lifted slowly as he watched your entire face.
“You are losing your weight more and more. C’mon doll, eat for me.”
Suddenly, the dog barked as it told Steve to give it another food. He rose from his seat to find on the shelves but found nothing.
“Wait here, buddy. I’ll get your treat from the basement.”
The sound of broken plate was heard. Steve ran quickly from the basement. Much to his surprise, all the things on the table were ruined. You fell from your chair as the dog was attacking your face. He shooed away the dog and helped you.
“Now, this is what I am trying to say before. The dog is not supposed to be inside!”
Steve looked closely at your face. He could see a bit mark on your cheek. He lifted your unmoving body and carried you downstairs. The key was rattling as Steve tried to unlock his basement door.
“Now look at you, doll. I have to replace you again.”
He kissed your temple for the last time before tossing your body to the cold floor of the basement, along with other bodies that looked like you.
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foxgloveprincess · 3 years
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Vision x Female Reader
Word Count: 800
Summary: Driving home after an evening away from your wife doesn’t go quite as planned. But Wanda’s prepared for anything.
Warnings: Dark Themes, Modern AU, Established Relationship/Polyamory (they refer to each other as husband/wife though a marriage wouldn’t technically be legal), Pet Names (little cabbage, my love, etc.), Car Crash, Major Character Death, Body Horror (mild), Witchcraft/Magic, Necromancy/Undead Characters, Vomit. Minors do not interact (18+).
A/N: An entry for The 8K Spooky Challenge from @syntheticavenger. Congrats on 8K!!! I was so inspired by the challenge of writing under 800 words and the movie All Cheerleaders Die (which I haven’t actually watched in ages but really loved) that I wrote up the first draft immediately in two hours after the challenge was posted. Editing took a bit longer, but this is the result. 😊
I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work, at all. I cross-post to my own AO3 account.
This is not Beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.
Enjoy!
Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or unwilling to read/consume dark (ish) content, thank you!
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“I told you, honey, we’re on our way.”
You glance over at Vis, his eyes watching the road, but a small smile twitching at the corners of his lips. Turning in your seat, you snuggle into the plush leather and bite back a yawn.
“I know, my love, but I have this feeling. Devil’s Night is in full swing. The spirits are restless,” Wanda replies, her quiet voice crackling as the connection cuts out for a moment. “Where are you?”
“We passed the Westview town line approximately 4½ miles ago,” Vis responds.
A smile quirks the corners of your lips at his proclamation. You wouldn’t be surprised if his answer were more accurate than approximate.
“I can see the bridge lights just up ahead,” you add, squinting into the darkness.
Vis’ hands remain positioned at the appropriate places on the wheel, but he glances in your direction—just for a moment. And that brief look warms your heart, knowing he’s checking in on you in his own way.
“But you are driving safely.” Wanda’s voice strains, cracks.
Your brow furrows at her tone. A nervous pit forms in your stomach, anxious and gaping. Your heart clenches, wishing you could gather her into your arms and hold her.
“You know our husband,” you reply, fingers playing with the edges of the seatbelt. “No safer driver.”
Wanda’s reluctant hum buzzes over the line.
Vis grasps the steering wheel until it creaks and his brows drop low over his eyes. Restless tension boils in the confined space of the car—heavy, daunting.
The car dips and bumps as it drives across the bridge—not six miles from the edge of town, infrequently used but the quickest route home. The river rushes below, overflowing from the past week’s torrential rain. Your eyes slide to the window, the moon’s reflection rippling on raging currents.
“The moon is full tonight, little cabbage,” Vis intones, his voice soft and soothing, empirical in a way Wanda and you always appreciate—even as his shoulders raise a fraction of an inch, body rigid in the drivers’ seat. “We’ve made very good time and there’s no one else on the road.”
Your lips press together, swallowing down tingling anxiety and panic. You breathe deeply, lungs filling with air in a bid to calm yourself.
“We’ll see you in no more than fifteen minu—”
A horn blares. The night goes black and wet.
Your breath rips from your chest like claws gnashing at your lungs. You gulp in—heavy, painful, chest-heaving. A coughing fit seizes you, hacking up muck and spewing bile, body curling on its side.
A gasp and cough echoes behind you, familiar and unsettling.
“Vis,” you wheeze, flopping on your back.
The moon shines down, a red glow swirling in the air as you rise to rest on your forearms.
“Vis!” you croak, voice forceful though still raw.
Your eyes search, needing to see him.
He lays on his back, body still but mouth gaping and eyes staring up at the sky. His head turns, hand reaching to grasp your own. With a ragged breath, his head tips back and you follow his gaze, finding the illuminated source.
Wanda kneels in the mud, her eyes closed and lips reciting indecipherable incantations. She radiates scarlet light, unheeding as you desperately cry her name.
Confused and scared, your eyes sting with tears and a deep burning ravages your chest. You reach to massage away the fire, but fumble over a smooth, hard anomaly.
An orange, faceted stone sits in your sternum—embedded in your skin.
The blood drains from your face replaced by buzzing panic. You don’t even notice as the red light recedes and disappears.
“You’re alive.”
Wanda’s voice breaks through your quiet horror, your eyes flashing to Vis. He’s sitting now, fingers rubbing over his forehead as if to dispel a headache—but you see the yellow stone beneath his fingers and his alarmed expression.
“It worked.”
Your eyes snap toward your wife. Relieved tears welling in her eyes, she crawls closer. Her arms wrap around you both and draw you into her embrace. Her warmth calls to you and you’re unable to resist. One look at Vis and you know he’s the same.
Her heartbeat thunders in your ears—thumping, pulsing, pounding. The burning pain migrates, no longer searing your chest but sinking to your belly. It transforms, a ravenous hunger consuming you from the inside. A craving, a thirst for warmth.
You swallow and taste sour fear on your tongue.
“Wanda, what have you done?” Vis asks, his eyes wide as he looks at his wife.
Wanda hushes him with a peck to his lips and a kiss to your temple. “It’s okay,” she promises, voice soft and spine-chilling, “I’ll get you anything you need.”
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Howl At The Moon (Bucky x Reader x Steve)
Last one of the day! This is for @syntheticavenger‘s 8K Spooky Challenge;  prompt was Hozier’s “Dinner and Diatribes,” and I totally went with the werewolf suggestion…
Warnings for a raunchy werewolf threesome, but there’s no sex in wolf form!
733 words, explicit. 
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The tension rises as the moon does. 
One more night before the change, and you’re consumed by the animal need to fight or fuck. Luckily, everyone else is here for the same reason. 
The party is in someone’s backyard, on the edge of the state forest, and it helps to have the open sky above you -- the smell of grilled meat in the air -- the company of your own kind. Nobody believes in the whole “pack” idea any more, but it’s more comfortable to be around other werewolves, this time of the month. They’re the only ones who understand the shameless, hedonistic madness that strikes in the thirty-six hours leading up to the full moon.
“Enough small talk,” Bucky says, in a low, velvety voice. “What are we waiting for?” 
“Fuck if I know,” you say; it’s all too true. Ever since they rode up on matching Harleys, all you’ve been able to think about is spreading your legs for them. 
Steve looks you up and down, eyes glittering with mischief in the firelight. “I guess the question is… which of us gets you first?” 
You could be civilised about this, take them home, or --  
“Whichever one can catch me first,” you say, and then you turn on your heel and start running. 
The trees are spaced far enough apart that moonlight filters through to the forest floor, casting silvery light and flickering shadows over the springy bed of moss and pine needles. It’s soft and forgiving under your feet as you dart from shadow to shadow, hyper-aware of every rustling branch and eerie bird call. 
You pause for a moment, straining to hear them, heart pounding. A snapping twig is the only warning you get before you see a flash of movement. You take off again, sprinting, Steve on your heels. 
Then Bucky steps out from behind a tree, just in front of you, and it’s too late to slow your momentum. You collide with him, crashing against him with a shriek, just as Steve catches up and grabs you from behind. 
“Guess we’ll have to share,” Bucky says, chest heaving as he catches his breath. 
“Don’t worry, we’re good at sharing,” Steve adds, and he wraps a massive arm around you from behind and slides a hand up under the hem of your shirt to pinch your nipple. 
Bucky yanks at your zipper with a smirk that makes him look a whole new kind of wolfish. He gets his hand down the front of your jeans, groaning when he feels how wet you are, and he pumps two strong fingers into you, making you shiver and squirm in Steve’s grip. You’re soaking his hand within seconds. 
They’re both just as desperate -- hips hitching, grinding against you from both sides. You’re not the only one who’s been painfully close to losing control since the sun started to set. 
“Want you both to fuck me,” you groan, reaching for Bucky’s belt. “Right fucking now.” 
Steve makes an impatient noise; he shoves your jeans down your thighs, tugs your shirt up over your head, and by the time you toss it away, Bucky is mostly undressed. 
“Good girl,” Steve says, low and rough. He puts one firm hand on the back of your neck and shoves you to your knees in front of Bucky -- his leather jacket is folded at his feet for you to kneel on, an incongruously sweet gesture. 
You can hear Steve stripping behind you, but your attention is on Bucky, who’s stroking himself with fingers that are still slick where they were inside you. You curl your hands around his hips, feeling the ridge of muscle there, and duck to get a taste, licking him from root to tip before swirling your tongue over the head before swallowing him down. 
You feel Steve at your back, on his knees. He clamps a hand down on your shoulder, holding you steady as he fills you with one smooth thrust. It’s so fucking good you lose control for a moment, gagging, and you have to pull back as your eyes water. For one panicky moment you’re not sure you can take it; they’ve got you stretched open and pinned between them, and it’s too much. 
“Easy, sweetheart,” Bucky pants. 
“We’ve got all night,” Steve murmurs. “No rush. Gonna give you every filthy thing you’ve ever dreamed about.”
.
.
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sparkledfirecracker · 3 years
Text
When Night Falls
Pairing: Frank Adler x Female Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: Murder in the night Word count: 596 Warnings: dark content, 18+ ONLY, explicit content, non con, fingering, murder, knife, stabbing
A/N: MINORS DNI! @syntheticavenger​ congrats on your new massive milestone, you deserve so many more. Here’s my entry for your 8k Spooky Challenge. My song of choice was The Weeknd - The Hills. It’s my first official fic back in almost two months (I’m not counting the nonnie drabble). So enjoy this short little wild ride!!!
This is beta’d by the lovely, one and only @tom-whore-dleston​. All mistakes are still my own.
Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics
I do not consent to have my works copied, reposted or translated on any other platform. Reposts on any given platform have been posted without my permission or consent. 
By clicking on keep reading you agree to be 18+ or over!!
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His familiar features were charming yet still rough. Radiant blue eyes, floofy hair and a good amount of scruff on his face. He seemed intoxicating, making the drugs taste like decaf on a sunny day.
Glancing at your watch, half past 5, terrified to move, you'd watched the entire scene unfold as he had pushed her into the brick wall with force. Threatened to kill her if she’d make a sound. The way she tried to claw herself away from him, how he pinned her arms above her head with ease. 
The predator drew visible pleasure from the fear of the female pinned between him and the wall. His lips pressing kisses into her skin as she whimpered fearfully.
His hand forcefully moved hers between their bodies, forcing her to palm his hardening cock. You could see the tears in her eyes forming as you watched from afar. It felt wrong to stay, but you couldn’t move and the lump in your throat blocked you from screaming.
You watched him forcing her to please him, low grunts falling from his lips as he continued to get off from her touches. You felt bile rise, overwhelmed by emotions clouding your mind. Heartache consumed your chest and it felt impossible to breathe.
It felt like an out of body experience, reliving a memory that had happened to you while you observed and watched the next movements of the man. Frightened at his domineering presence and sense of power. 
Her soft pleas were almost inaudible as it trembled off her lips. Her body wanted to make a run for it, but here she was trapped with no room to run away. It was too late.
“You look even better than the photos.” He husked, breathing down her ear as he exposed her chest. “You’ll be mine forever now.”
The moonlight reflected on the sharp metal, pressing into her soft skin. Hushed warnings travelled through the air as he dug the knife a little deeper. You winced at the sharp pain you felt on your own cheek, it almost felt like you were there instead of watching. 
“Please, don’t.” Her frantic movements tried to withhold him from slipping his hand under her skirt. “No. Frank, please.” Her strength unmatched to his, winning the battle sliding his fingers through her folds. 
The look of her fear and pleasure was fully displayed. Betrayal seemed to be playing key as the soft moan disappeared into the night. He pulled an unwilling sin from her body while he kept her trembling body in place as she fluttered around his fingers.  
Your eyes widened as he daggered the knife in her chest. Followed by a loud shriek echoing through the midnight air as he whetted the blade in uneven strokes into her body. With a thud the body dropped to the floor, too heavy to hold up the dead weight. 
A hand clamped over your mouth to withhold the shriek that fell from your lips as you watched the woman being strangled with one hand. You had witnessed a murder, you had watched the bewildered beast as he rapidly covered himself in blood as the body was ravaged by the silver shining dagger.
Horrified by Frank’s actions you had stiffened completely, only being able to look up at the chime from the church’s clock. Half past five. The only time he would ever call you his as you breathed your last air, making time stand still as you relived the nightmare you had endured. The dark twisted fairytale that ended with blood and your soul.
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Tags: @dreamlessinparis
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Vixen
Pairing: Lumberjack!Steve Rogers x Gumiho!fem!reader
Warnings: explicit language, smut, unprotected sex, major character death, blood, MINORS DNI
Summary: Steve took in a little fox he found in the woods.
Word count: 765
a/n: My last entry for @syntheticavenger 8k spooky challenge! Thank you so much for hosting this, I had so much fun writing and reading💜💜
I proofread it but there might still be shit ton of mistakes 🥲
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She was a frail little fox lying in the pristine white snow, shivering at the cold while waiting for her death when he found her. A hulking figure emerging from the thick white fog; his beard embellished with snow, a huge axe perched heavily on his shoulder as he trudged through the snow.
His heightened senses caught her little whimpers and she watched him getting closer until he spotted her, examined her carefully and picked her little body up.
“Poor little thing,” he placed her carefully in his thick jacket and she snuggled up into his warm and broad chest searching for comfort.
That night, in his dreams Steve dreamt of a fox-like woman; furry ears resting on her head, her body clad in one of his shirts, long fluffy tails trailing behind tickling his legs.
“Steve,” her honeyed voice reverberated in his head. Her hands went under his shirt, caressing and trailing at the ridges of his toned abs. She let herself sit on top of his crotch, her exposed mound came in contact with the growing bulge in his pants.
She started grinding her hips on his crotch, soft breathy moans slipping out of her lips. His large hands went to cup around her butt, kneading at the soft flesh.
Precum leaked out of his cock, staining the fabric of his sweatpants, forming a dark patch on it. He lifted her hips up to slide his pants down, releasing his hard cock waiting to be touched.
She grabbed hold of his length, positioning her cunt to align to the head and slide down slowly.
“Vixen,” a guttural moan escaped his mouth as he felt her smooth, velvet walls engulfing him. “F-fuck, feels so good.”
Sweet heaven, he thought as he laid there watching her riding him at her own pace. Planting his feet on the floor, he started to thrusting his hips upwards. His length plunged into her soft walls making her whimper; her body jerked forward into his chest at the motion, her tails clinging onto his thick thighs. She kept her head buried in his chest while whining sweetly at every thrust of his hips. Slick dribbled down her thighs and the squelching noises combined with their contented groans echoed in the ample space as he pounded into her.
With a particularly hard thrust, Steve spilled his seeds into her. A sudden fatigueness washed over him and he succumbed into a deep sleep.
“I’m back,” he was welcomed by his little fox squealing in excitement as she nudged her head eagerly into his large hands waiting to be petted.
Steve trudged through the door, his heavy footsteps paddled towards the couch. Exhaustion filled his body; his eye bags were prominent on his face, his once blue eyes dull and soulless, and his shoulders sagged as he hit the couch.
No matter how long he slept these days, he just felt tired and lacked energy all the time. He used to be able to get work done easily before the sun sets but now he could barely lift his axe up. It was as if his energy had been sucked out from his body.
Steve knew, that the end was near, he could feel it. He wasn’t afraid of it, he was only worried about the pretty little fox that had become his family.
“Little one,” He dragged out his last words and this time succumbed into darkness forever.
It was Bucky who found him, when Steve had gone radio silence for a few days which was odd.
He pushed open the heavy door and instantly the smell of rottenness hit him. Shielding his nose at the intrusion of the pungent smell, he stepped into the place and immediately he gasped and gagged at the sight of Steve's body sagging against the couch. A deep gaping hole on the right side of his chest, his heart ripped out as if an animal had eaten it.
Before he could proceed to do anything, Bucky heard the soft whimper of an animal; emerging from behind the couch was a tiny little fox with its ears drooped as if mourning for its master’s death. It’s big eyes were watery and frightened; probably traumatized by the wild animal that came into the house and attacked Steve.
“Poor thing,” Bucky took the white fox in his arms and it buried itself in his warmth but he failed to notice—drowning in the grief of losing his best friend—the little fox darted out its tongue to lick up remnants of deep red staining at the corner of its mouth.
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shieldedreams · 3 years
Text
sweet as candy (a.b.) 🎃
summary ⇾ andy celebrates halloween with you (and you give him a little treat) details ⇾ 797 words / andy barber x reader / 🌸a bunch of fluff notes ⇾ last one for @syntheticavenger​​‘s 8k spooky challenge! 🎃had a blast writing these little bits for our fave cap, boatman and now our lawyer :-) happy halloween! (in advance, haha) foul language + a little suggestive, so minors dni!
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gonna leave the office in a bit. text me when you’re home safe | andy 🤍[10:28PM]
:-)* meant to add that in | andy 🤍[10:29PM]
you snicker at the glow of your phone screen as you enter your home, closing the door behind you and leaning back against it. locking the door with one hand, your other promptly types out your reply, partially imagining the smile on andy’s face.
dork. just got back, text me when you’re leaving [10:47PM]
:-P* meant to leave that out [10:47PM]
as you lock your phone to shrug off your coat, your ears pick up on the thuds that come from inside your home. panic soon fills your system; it is the night before halloween–the time of the year where ghosts and murderers seem to take over the horror genre–and... you’re in the perfect position to be in one of those movies.
gulping, you set your bag down, still gripping onto your phone as your coat is left on by the door. you quickly grab the golf club by the corner and decide to tread carefully into the living room. when the coast is clear, you debate on either calling andy or... whacking the absolute shit out of whoever was in your bedroom because that was definitely a figure!
you suck in a breath as you kick the door of your bedroom open, about to go ham at the shadow by the window. you stop yourself, letting out a scream instead when the figure turns around–”andy! what the fuck?!”
“jesus!” he yells back, dropping whatever he was holding, surprised at the sight of you almost bashing the side of his head open with a golf club in possession.
relief automatically flushes through your veins, falling to your knees as the golf club clinks onto the floor. andy chuckles, breathless from the initial shock. after a couple of seconds, he retrieves the bag he’s dropped and tosses it onto the bed, stalking over to you.
“you lied,” you huff, yet your anger diffuses when andy peels you up from the floor and into his arms.
“this was meant to be a surprise. i thought you’d take a bit longer to get home,” he murmurs into your ears, pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head before luring you back. at the word of ‘surprise’, you take a glance of your surroundings; finally able to digest the changes andy had made to your bedroom.
the halloween decor, pumpkin-shaped candles, a bag of candy and laptop on the bed. it made you smile; first at everything, then back to andy who’s had his eyes on you the whole time.
he feels your gratitude when you lean up to press a soft kiss to his lips. his hands squeeze your waist, pulling you close and welcomes you for another kiss. the both of you chuckle, andy dipping down to thump his forehead onto yours.
“i thought you said you weren’t much of a halloween person?”
“yeah,” he snorts, turning his cheek to kiss your palm as your hands frame his face, “but i overheard you on the phone the other day,”
“nah, don’t think we’d be doing anything,” you juggle your phone pressed to your ear with your shoulder, your hands busy as you fumble with the coffee pot. “...so what? it’s fine. it’s just halloween.”
being so engrossed in your conversation with a friend, you fail to realize andy’s standing by the kitchen doorframe with a small smile, arms crossed and very amused with–“okay, shut your face. i’m not dressing up as a slutty maid.”–andy almost chokes on his own saliva.
“that’s... really sweet, andy. thank you,”
“pleasure’s all mine, honey. shall we?” he motions to your bed, which you gladly fall into after changing into more comfortable clothing.
this wasn’t how you expected your night before halloween to go down but with andy’s arms around you, a bag of candy by the side, the scent of pumpkin, the sounds of shrill screaming from the movie and the metronome of andy’s heartbeat against your back; halloween couldn’t be more perfect.
((”can i open my eyes now?” andy grumbles, tapping his foot as he sits by the edge of the bed.
“so impatient,” you chuckle, hands smoothening onto his shoulders as you step in front of him, between his legs. “okay.”
his eyes blink open and... his jaw drops.
andy drinks in the image of you in a makeshift maid outfit; obviously rigged with lingerie and thigh-high straps. his adam’s apple bob a couple of times, hands darting out to grab onto your waist to feel the black and white lace hugging your body.
“i’m taking it as you like it?”
“happy fucking halloween to me,” andy groans, already diving into his treat (you).))
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bungalowbear · 2 years
Text
I Know You
Pairing: ghost!Bucky Barnes x reader
Word Count: 800
A/N: This is my entry for @syntheticavenger Spooky Challenge. I used the song prompt Once Upon A Dream by LDR for inspiration. Congrats on the milestone! Hope you enjoy this little story.
Life in your village is quaint. Chores are dutifully done, flowers are picked for loved ones, and attendance at mass is mandatory for every villager. Life is peaceful and undisturbed so long as no one ventures into the woods.
You hum a melody to yourself as you make your daily trip to the well, wooden bucket in your hands to gather water for the day. The morning breeze brings with it the crisp air of autumn that puts a bit of pep in your step.
A small group of children gathered by the well whisper among themselves the legend of the woodsman who tried to elope with the preacher’s daughter. He was chased out of the village and into the trees, but he knew the woods better than they ever could. So he evaded them and hid until they retreated. When he chanced a return under the cover of night he was devastated to find that his love had hastily been married off to another. In his anguish he stumbled back into the woods, desolate and broken-hearted, where he eventually perished.
Everyone knows the woodsman lived in the village over two hundred years ago, and they also know the preacher who cast him out was your great grandfather.
You don’t miss the way the children stare at you with curious expressions. You see in their eyes that they believe every word of the woodsman’s tale. And why shouldn’t they? Every day the fog stays. It greets you in the morning and bids you goodnight before bed. And on nights when the moon is full some swear they see his figure just along the tree line, wandering and wailing for his lost love.
You set the handle of your bucket onto the hook and lower it using the crank. When you feel the bucket has been filled, you reel it back up and take it off the hook. You grab hold of the handle with one hand as you lift it with a small grunt and walk back to your home.
A sudden gust of wind makes you wrap your shawl tighter around your chest. You feel a gaze fall upon you, and not from the children behind you.
You lift your eyes to the woods and shudder.
No matter the season, an ominous fog dwells among the trees, an everlasting curtain of caution to the unknown that lies within.
🌲
Sitting in the pew, you try not to doze off as your father gives his sermon. But something in the corner behind him catches your attention.
Rather, someone.
With his large frame and dark curtain of hair you easily recognize the man who visits you in your dreams. He looks out of place among the white walls and natural wood of the pulpit and pews. His presence casts a dark shadow that only grows larger as he glares at the back of your father’s head.
But then his gaze shifts to you and the shadow lessens. You offer him a gentle curve of your lips and you see his expression soften. He raises his hand in farewell, but you know he will come to you again tonight. As he does every night.
You blink and he is gone.
🌲
You recognize your village as you make your way through, but there are small differences. The fence around the blacksmith’s workshop is missing and so is the garden by the church. And there is a change in the air. It doesn’t feel like your air. It seems stale…older.
You stand at the steps of the church and turn your head for any sign of him.
A noise from the side of the building catches your attention. Slowly, you make your way around the corner and sigh in relief when you see him. He leans against the wooden exterior and beckons you with his finger.
His bright blue eyes keep your gaze until you are right in front of him. His fingertips ghost up your arms, sending a shiver through your body.
He tilts his head, lips brushing over the delicate flesh of your throat. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” you answer, breathless.
“Are you sure?”
You nod. “I love you, James.”
“And I love you.”
His lips press gently against your skin, a whimper escaping you when he pulls away. A grin spreads across his pink lips as he starts backward toward the woods.
You follow.
🌲
The world comes back as you blink awake from your sleepwalk.
The ground is cold beneath your bare feet. You faintly hear your father shouting your name behind you, but his voice fades as you focus on the figure before you.
James steps out of the woods, extending his hand to you. He smiles as you accept and allow him to guide you into the fog.
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spookiekewchie · 3 years
Text
imagine being loved by me...(1)
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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Characters: vampire!Bucky Barnes x siren!reader
Summary: a first meeting, and a new obsession.
SERIES MASTERLIST
Word Count: 800
Warnings: general language warning, stalking, possessive behavior/thoughts, implied murder.
A/N:  Part 1 of my entry for for @syntheticavenger's 8k challenge. Anyways, all mistakes are mine so pardon any errors or typos I'm sure I missed a few. The divider is by @firefly-graphics the moodboard is by me, but the image of bucky is a manip made by 0-ves-0 hence the watermark being left in.
DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. If you like it don't forget to reblog and share with others who might enjoy it as well.
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He watches the movers carry in boxes and furniture, keeping his distance and lingers around in curiosity. You’re moving into the apartment across the hall from him now that the old man that’s lived there for several years has passed on. James hopes his new neighbor is less cranky, and won’t mind his antisocial nature. Well, he hopes that right up until he finally catches your scent, it’s addicting and nearly knocks him off his feet. But when he finally sees you, that’s the moment that he knows that he needs you. It’s that damn smile of yours, bright like the sun he hasn’t been able to set eyes on in ages. You light up any space that you occupy, and you’re so warm and bright that he can’t help but be drawn to you like gravity itself is pulling him in. James wants to possess that light, to touch it, and taste it.
He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t register you speaking to him at first, it’s only when he notices the somewhat expectant look in your eyes that he realizes you’re waiting for him to say something. “I’m James, Bucky. Everyone calls me Bucky though.” He blurts, hand jutting out for you to shake. You take it, and your warmth makes him want to press you into the wall and see if all of you is so warm and welcoming.
“Well I’m not everyone, and I like the name James.” You tell him, hand lingering in his for a beat longer than it needs to. You offer him your name, and he repeats it slowly. The sound of it on his lips sends a pang of want shooting to your core, and you slip your hand from his then. “See you around, James. Hopefully soon.”
He watches you move away from him, his gaze drinking in the rest of you. He’s ready to praise whatever higher power there is for you choosing to wear the tank top and pair of shorts that you have on. All that buttery smooth, brown skin and he just wants to sink his fangs into you. Leave you covered in his marks, and have you overwhelming his every sense. The desire consumes his thoughts both waking and sleeping for days.
You’re his new obsession, he rises earlier in the evenings than he normally would just to meet you as you leave for work. Then he follows you, keeping to rooftops and shadows.
He tells himself that he’s just watching out for you, just in case you need him. You’re so beautiful, so soft...the need to make sure nothing happens to you is primal. He hasn’t claimed you in the physical sense yet, but to James you’re his, and he’ll rip apart anyone that thinks to even look at you wrong. He makes sure you get to the jazz club that you sing at every night safely, and then he lingers in the shadows at the back. He can never leave without hearing your song, something about it so sweet and so haunting. It worms its way into his head and heart refuses to let him go.
When your set is done he thinks to himself that he should leave, grab himself a blood bag from the nearby donation site. He should go, especially when he catches himself watching a patron’s jugular for a moment too long. He stands from his isolated table, ready to slip away to sate his hunger, but then he hears the dulcet tone of your laughter filling his ears. James whips around just in time to see you slipping out the back of the club with some muscle bound man that eyes you like nothing more than a piece of meat.
James grits his teeth hard enough that he can hear them creak under the pressure. He moves so fast that he’s a blur and no one notices beyond the gust of wind that blows in his wake.
He watches from the rooftop across from the dark alley that the man has pulled you into. Your laughter is gone now, and you’re struggling and telling him to stop. James’ eyes bleed red, and just as he’s about to swoop down tear the man’s head from his shoulders you let out an inhuman shriek and throw him deeper into the alley. He freezes, unsure of what he’s just seen. It’s nothing compared to how you turn and look up at the rooftop he’s on as if you can see him.
“You can come down, James. No one will miss him, and I know you’re hungry.”
That’s how it starts, that first scumbag in the alleyway marks the beginning of a bloody trail of vengeance and murder. It’s dreadful work, but for you he’ll do anything.
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