Summary:Crushed between the expectations of society and your family, you catch the attention of an unwanted caller and life you never desired. (Regency AU)
Synopsis:Ransom and Charles are partner’s in crime but they’re looking for some pleasure after years of business. (Ransom Drysdale/Knives Out, Charles Blackwood/We Have Always Lived in the Castle)
Synopsis:when your father went away to serve in The Great War, you took over his side business in the shed. After the war, he struggles to recover from the damage of his trauma as an unexpected investor shows up at your door. (Thomas Shelby, Peaky Blinders)
The equipment Bucky ordered comes in a shiny metal box that reminds him of the time the Wakandans offered him a new arm, a new war. But this time, Bucky isn’t fighting a war. He’s not even fighting. He’s observing. He’s setting up the binoculars near the window. He’s fine-tuning the microphones to an earpiece and a recording device. He’s making sure the motion sensors properly record movement and register in his computer.
It’s oddly reminiscent of some jobs he used to do for HYDRA. Although he wishes he could erase that part of his life, the time he spent observing and collecting data prove useful to him now.
The day outside is gloomy. The clouds seem to mock him, closing him into a space he’s been forced into anyway.
Bucky clucks his tongue.
“Has there been any dreams again?”
He turns to face his psychologist. She sits with a frown nettling her face, leg bent over the other, the tip of her shiny black boot white and apotropaic for Bucky.
“No,” he answers. Not since her. Not since Meatball.
“Are you having any sort of dream?” she asks, eyes briefly falling to her notepad duteously spread on her knee.
Bucky bites the inside of his cheek. Yes, he wants to say. So many. Of her and her big eyes and the way her smell seems to linger in the hall even after she’s left. Dreams of following her down a long, empty hallway, of pining her against a wall and watching the way her skin flushes, glows, under his stare.
“Not really,” he opts for, determining that confessing dreams of stalking a neighbor would not earn him points with both his psychologist and the government.
“Sam told me you ordered surveillance equipment?” she continues, chin in her palm.
Of course, Sam would not completely believe Bucky.
“There’s this neighbor,” Bucky starts, hands on his knees. “I don’t know who lives there. Honestly, all I’ve seen is their animals. And they’re being neglected. Left for days unattended. I sometimes see through the living room door that there’s no food.”
The doctor nods, writes, hums.
“Do you feel like that’s a good hobby to have, Mr. Barnes?” God, he hates when she calls him that.
“Animal rescue?” he tries, tone faking innocence.
She snorts. She sees right through his ruse. “Stalking.”
Bucky jerks ever the slightest. “It’s not that,” he groans. “It’s mostly… I feel useful, and I feel like I’m partaking in something good for once,” he sighs.
“Rescuing animals,” she says, writing something down in that little stupid fucking notepad.
“Yes,” he grits between his teeth. “I’m not waiting to kill someone,” he retorts, and immediately regrets it.
“Is that what you think I think of you?”
Bucky rolls his eyes. “Sometimes.”
She smiles slowly. “I am only here to help you.” She readjusts in her seat. “And if you are constantly thinking that I’m here to undermine you, then this relationship won’t work. We won’t be able to move forward.”
He nods, biting back some remarks he should really keep to himself.
She stares at him for a few moments, then down at her watch. “Our hour is over, Mr. Barnes.” She settles back in her seat, scribbling some notes down. “Until next week.”
Bucky all but storms out of her office, past the receptionist who wishes him well, and out into the gloomy New York air. The office is a few blocks away from his condo, and he uses the time walking to keep his mind from conjuring images of strangling that woman to death.
When he gets to the back door of the complex, he notices a familiar figure coming his way. He schools his features into something more homely, warm, and magnetic. He tries to conjure the womanizer he was in the forties, but something about this girl, Elora, doesn’t make him want to be that: a jerk. He wants to be good to her. He knows he can be good to her.
“Hey,” he says.
She squints as she approaches him, and when she recognizes him, her face lights up. “Oh, hey!” She smiles and Bucky swears she’s the most beautiful creature on Earth. “James! Or Bucky.” She has a backpack on, the color of rust.
“It’s just Bucky,” he says, smiling, leaning a shoulder against the wall. She watches his nonchalance, and Bucky thinks he spies a moment of attraction flitting across her face. “Where you headed? Lost Meatball again?”
She chuckles, pushing hair behind her ears. Adorable. “No,” she says with a shy smile, crossing her arms across her chest. “Sorry about that. Or, I guess, thank you.”
Bucky nods with a faint smile.
“I’m just headed to that… apartment I told you about?” She’s acting cold, restrained now, as if she’s either afraid of him or afraid of what he’s going to say about her little jaunts next door.
“Still on that animal rescue mission?” he asks humorously.
That seems to dispel the tension in her shoulders, and she laughs. “Yeah, I’m going to feed them actually.”
Bucky nods, pushing from the wall. He can see the sparkle in her eyes as she assesses him. He knows she finds him attractive. He’s seen himself in the mirror a few times.
“Mind if I join?”
Her mouth parts and it’s the most adorable view Bucky has ever had.
“Really?” she asks.
“Yeah,” he answers, lifting a shoulder. “Always wanted to be the good guy.”
She laughs, unaware of the way Bucky stares at her with both hunger and longing.
“Alright, cowboy, let’s go!”
They walk across the street, and Bucky notices how Elora walks with her head high, not cowering and nervous. She’s done this before. She walks up to the basement sliding door of the aforementioned apartment and waits for Bucky to step beside her. From under the canopy of the upstairs balcony, her face is shadowed, cool, and she lifts a daring eyebrow to Bucky.
“So, what, do you know where the key is?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at the busy boulevard. “Or a barrette?”
She scoffs. Then she puts a finger to the knob and pushes, the door sliding open. Bucky smiles, holding laughter, and gives her an impressed raise of his brows.
“A woman with many talents,” Elora mumbles as she climbs in.
Once inside, Bucky closes the sliding door, and puts a hand to his mouth. It smells like excretion and rotting food. Or corpses. He wishes beyond anything that there are no dead animals here.
Elora behaves as if she lives here, bending down and retrieving food from her backpack. When she opens the bag, a few little kittens come stumbling into the messy, dirty living room. Bucky stands there, watching Elora crouched on the stained yellow carpet as she takes out cans of wet cat food.
“The dogs are in cages in the back room,” she says, jerking her chin towards the back of the apartment, and Bucky understands that as his cue to move. She hands him a bag of dog food, and when he takes it out of her hand, his finger brushes hers and fire licks up his palm. He tries not to fidget, or flinch away, but he’s wearing gloves, as always, to keep others from ogling his metal arm, and now he wishes more than anything that his flesh could have touched hers.
She doesn’t say anything about the touch. The gloves. She just shoves the bag into his hands and motions him to action.
He takes the dog food bag across the apartment, noticing the dirt stains on the kitchen floor, the mountain of rotting, dirty dishes in the sink, and that the walls are decaying.
The dogs, three pitbulls, are indeed in cages in what should have been the guestroom. Bucky holds back a gag. Some of the dogs have been left in their filth, and it stinks up the room. His heart squeezes at the sight of the animals laying down in tiny cages, their big bodies constrained to such a small enclosure. The dogs are looking at him, but none move. It as if they’re used to this: someone, anyone, not a master or friend, coming in and just feeding them.
“Heartless, right?”
Bucky turns and Elora stands in the doorway with a grey cat nestled in her arms.
“We should call someone,” Bucky says, opening the dog food bag, the dogs’ heads snapping up to attention.
“I’ve called animal health, rescue centers, even the police,” she adds. Then she shrugs. “They’ve all claimed insubstantial evidence. If I send pictures, they’re going to arrest me for B&E.”
Bucky nods, carefully opening the cage of the first dog.
“They don’t bite,” Elora says. “So, yeah, I come here sometimes and rescue some and send them to centers for neglected animals. Every time I come back, though, there’s more.”
Bucky groans, his heart burning, his head imagining scenarios of beating whoever puts these animals into such dire situations. Heartless fucker.
Bucky fills the first bowl and leaves the cage open. “We should take this one,” he says. “At least today. And tomorrow, we can come get the other one.”
Elora walks out and comes back in as Bucky is feeding the second dog. She hands Bucky a leash. “Feel free. She’s a female, by the way. I named her Claudia.”
Bucky snorts, closing the second cage on the other dog, heart wrenching as he sees the way the animal gobbles down food. How long have they been without food?
They feed the third dog, noticing burn marks on its haunches, and then leash up Claudia. She has difficulty walking, limping, her front paw badly injured from God knows what. Bucky follows Elora through the apartment, where she shows him the entire, disgusting situation. Bunnies in a cage with barely anything to do but sleep in their defecation. Birds in a cage left covered by a black, heavy cloak. More and more and endless kittens and adult cats. Bucky lets a few of the adult ones out of the back door, maybe to freedom or better homes, who knows.
As they walk across the street, Bucky helping Claudia along, the man can’t help but feel proud of Elora. His Elora. This incredible girl that risks her neck every time she walks into that apartment.
“Don’t ever go in there alone, ever again,” Bucky says as they near the parking of their complex.
She turns and frowns up at this man that she barely knows but appreciates. “Why?”
Bucky shakes his head, shakes the feeling from his bones, this feeling that wants to protect her from the world. He needs to bide his time. “Who knows when the owner can come back,” he answers. “They could be dangerous.”
She smiles, rolls her eyes, a behavior he will have to correct. “I can handle myself.”
Bucky’s shoulders tense. “I mean it,” he says, forcing himself not to grit his teeth. “You have me now. Use that.”
She smiles again, all teeth and cheeks and giddy innocence. “Sure,” she pipes up. “Now let’s get to my car and get these babies to a rescue.”
Warnings: 18+, minors DNI! THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC. Please take our warnings seriously. The subject matter is very disturbing.. Dubcon, non-con, loss of virginity, kidnapping, slapping, choking, coercion, mental and emotional abuse, swearing, alcohol, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, dacryphilia, blood play, drugging, degradation, brainwashing, oral (f receiving), fingering, male masturbation, spitting
A/N: This is the entry @sableseb and I are submitting for the @basementwiveswritingchallenge(foundhere). This was the most fun I’ve ever had writing a fic and I’m genuinely so glad to have her as my twisted sister through and through! It’s the longest thing we’ve written so buckle up - @fuckandfluff
Tay came to me with this challenge and I couldn’t possibly pass up the opportunity to collab. It just seemed right to partner up with her to create something darker. Our minds our genuinely one. It’s scary sometimes, and that’s what makes us a good team. I hope everyone enjoys this as much as we do.x - @sableseb
A/n: these will be heavy. I won’t go into the rape details,but if you feel uncomfortable reading this, leave this fic alone.For Asa, it will be Arkin. If you want another slasher let me know
For those who don’t….enjoy your stay
Tw: toxic relationship, mention of violence (off-screen),mention of rape ( off-screen),yandere themes
The squelching sound of flesh pounding against flesh was defeaning. You could only feel that punishing pace he had set for you. You felt tears falling down your cheeks. You prayed that Asa was on his way to find you, or God help you with a quick death.
His hands were groping your body, making you feel incredibly dirty. Why? Why you? Why did he have to do that, when you were just a normal human being? Why…?
-Fuck…you are a tight slut, aren’t you? Look at you, taking me so well. What would your “beloved” think? Uh, seeing you bend for me like the whore you are,yeah that’s what you are, mine to use as I please-
You cried and cried and cried. It had been hours,maybe days,but who knew. It felt like an eternity. Everyday the same burning pain, the shame that accompanied this vile act. Would Asa accept you back, even after this? With that last grunts, he finished his business, re dressed and went away.
You were thirsty,hungry and hurt. You were desperate to find a way to escape. Anything to get away from that man.
You heard what seemed like a door being unlocked. No,not again, please,not again. Footsteps coming your way, light like the wind. And then….a hand. Asa, he was here, he came for you. You weeped even more, finally glad that he had come for you, that he hadn’t forgotten you. His hands were moving fast, and one after one,he freed your limbs from the chain. You fell into his arms with a low whine of pain. You didn’t remember much, apart from a voice shushing you, and the feeling of being moved. You were so tired.
He was furious. First he had let you get kidnapped by Arkin, and then….he….he raped you, right in front of his eyes. Cause that bastard knew he was there. That’s why he had been so rough with you.He would pay, dearly for his mistake. And he was quick to knock him out with a strong sedative, shove him in a trunk, and drive away. First to leave him at the hotel,secured. Then at home.
You were unconscious,the strain put on your body and mind to much to bear. He was looking at you, at your broken body, feeling an incredible sense of shame. He should have known that your disappearance was Arkin’s fault. He let himself be sidetracked and look what it brought upon him.
His hands, slowly and with care washed your limp body. From head to toe, trying to delete what had happened. His mind was a mess. He was feeling guilty. It had been his fault if this happened to you.
After washing and changing you into some clean pijamas, he brought you to your bed. It was then that you woke up. Slowly coming back, you felt…clean. As clean as you could feel. You noticed that you were in your bedroom. Then, maybe it hadn’t been a dream. He really did came for you.
-A..Asa….- his hands slowly came to cup your face, moving his thumb right under your eyes, brushing your tears away. His low voice shushing you gently.
With care,he hugged your form, letting you cry it out. Not once he let go of you. He was in need of this as much as you. He almost lost you, the only one who willingly stayed with him, the only one who loved him unconditionally.
After you calmed down a bit, he made sure to make you eat and drink something. You were on the brink of starvation and dehydration.
He left you only to go cook something. And let him be damned if he didn’t let his dogs on the bed with you. After thirty minutes, he was back with a tray of food for you. He didn’t let go of you while you ate, and he left the dishes in the sink. They could wait.
You could tell he was tense,and with a bit of flinching and whining for the pain, you managed to turn in his arm, laying with you head on his chest. His heartbeat was soothing,and soon you let yourself fall asleep.
-Asa…thank you-
It wasn’t going to lessen the punishment he was going to deal to Arkin,but it helped to quell his guilt. You were still with him, you still trusted him. And that was enough for him to sleep that night.
Story Rating: Explicit, 18+ only Warnings:Dark fic. Non-con, duplicity, kidnapping, explicit sexual content, violence, character death, body horror, gore. Relationships: Werewolf!Ransom Drysdale/Reader
Summary: Avery late entry for @boxofbonesfic’s #Beastyoumadeofme22 challenge themed around lycanthropy and the song “White Demon Love Song” by the Killers.
You work on the side, house sitting. When your friend Meg puts you in touch with her cousin, Ransom Drysdale, you’re intimidated by the man, at first. But you land the job for a handsome fee and staying in the upscale house isn’t a hardship, right?
But there’s a beast loose in Boston, killing late at night. And the strangest things are happening as you stay at Ransom’s house…
~~~
The dying sun cast big shadows on the road as you drove. The narrow country road was lined with ancient trees, the tangle of branches forming what looked like giant spiderwebs on your path. You shivered even though the heat was on in your car. Spring was hanging on to winter’s chill for all it was worth this year.
Or maybe the cold wasn’t why you were shaking.
You did house sitting as a side gig to earn extra money. It helped pay off the crush of student loans. It also helped you keep your mind occupied, kept you from focusing on all the Xs on the calendar on your wall, marking the days since Jackson left you.
Admittedly, you hadn’t taken a job since the killings started. There’d been three since the year started on the outskirts of Boston. Three young women like yourself, bodies found in different random locations, bodies torn asunder. According to news reports, the deaths were caused by an animal of some kind. Animal DNA had been found on the bodies.
Now it was April and there was still some beast out there picking off people. Mankind was so busy expanding their turf that wildlife had to come to your world for food with disastrous consequences. Tensions were high in the city and beyond.
Worst of all was that inner voice telling you to turn down the job, to find some other way to make ends meet. Turn the car around. Go home.
Story Rating: Explicit, 18+ only Warnings:Dark fic. Non-con, duplicity, kidnapping, explicit sexual content, violence, character death, body horror, gore. Relationships: Werewolf!Ransom Drysdale/Reader
Summary: Avery late entry for @boxofbonesfic’s #Beastyoumadeofme22 challenge themed around lycanthropy and the song “White Demon Love Song” by the Killers.
You work on the side, house sitting. When your friend Meg puts you in touch with her cousin, Ransom Drysdale, you’re intimidated by the man, at first. But you land the job for a handsome fee and staying in the upscale house isn’t a hardship, right?
But there’s a beast loose in Boston, killing late at night. And the strangest things are happening as you stay at Ransom’s house…
~~~
The dying sun cast big shadows on the road as you drove. The narrow country road was lined with ancient trees, the tangle of branches forming what looked like giant spiderwebs on your path. You shivered even though the heat was on in your car. Spring was hanging on to winter’s chill for all it was worth this year.
Or maybe the cold wasn’t why you were shaking.
You did house sitting as a side gig to earn extra money. It helped pay off the crush of student loans. It also helped you keep your mind occupied, kept you from focusing on all the Xs on the calendar on your wall, marking the days since Jackson left you.
Admittedly, you hadn’t taken a job since the killings started. There’d been three since the year started on the outskirts of Boston. Three young women like yourself, bodies found in different random locations, bodies torn asunder. According to news reports, the deaths were caused by an animal of some kind. Animal DNA had been found on the bodies.
Now it was April and there was still some beast out there picking off people. Mankind was so busy expanding their turf that wildlife had to come to your world for food with disastrous consequences. Tensions were high in the city and beyond.
Worst of all was that inner voice telling you to turn down the job, to find some other way to make ends meet. Turn the car around. Go home.
