#dark!bucky x you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dungeonpuppykai · 8 months

Note

When I want to read dark fics, your writing just hits. One of my guilty pleasures recently has been dark!winter soldier stuff and I was hoping you could write one.

If you can, can you make it where Bucky is still the Winter Soldier and finds himself completely enamored with the reader. He stalks her briefly and decides he has to have her. So where it gets dark is mean, brooding soldier kidnaps reader and makes her his housewife. (I’d like to think that some of Bucky’s 40ness is still there along with some good old fashion 50s idealization where he basically molds her into being his perfect little housewife.)

He can still be with hydra or not but this thought has been buzzing around in my head recently and I personally am not good at writing dark fics.

Um, hell yes I can! Also, not me having almost exactly the same idea (it was in my drafts and I totally merged it with yours). Sorry for being late uni kicks my butt hard TT. Also, please note that this is a headcanon kind of situation type deal but apparently there's a limit to how many bullets you can put per post so that's why it looks the way it does! Hope you like it still. Unedited ❤️

Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), stalking, kidnapping, housewife kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, misogyny, domestic discipline, breeding kink (dash), age gap (I mean, man is over a century old). Contains mature content. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

You are absolutely shit faced as you stumble out the backdoor of the club with two of your girlfriends tangled around each arm.

You are all giggling, stumbling and slurring out curses, trying to shush each other as you trudge your forms to your apartment complex that is close by because driving is obviously out of question now.

Were it not for your overly intoxicated state, you would have totally noticed the dark silhouette that stills in the dark alley facing the backdoor.

The man masked in the darkness tilts his head to the side as he tries to read your party, having gotten caught off guard by the sudden bursting open of the door.

One of your friends stagger in his direction and he moves back, his labored breaths warm in his mask, watching the girl as she retches her guts out.

Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.

Then there is a sound– a melody in the air.

Soldat feels something stir within himself.

Something his masters did their best to suppress.

Not that they would be doing any more of that.

They needed to be alive to do something like that ever again.

His eyebrows furrow as he scans your group for the source of the sound; you.

You are laughing.

At your friend that is throwing up.

Hands clutching your hurting sides, eyes scrunched, head thrown back, flushed and sweaty face vibrant under the bright moonlight as your hair frames it in the most perfect way possible.

A shaky breath escapes the man covered in tears and blood of his captors and oppressors.

His eyes scan your form.

Beautiful.

His metal hand clenches into a fist and he makes his resolve almost instantly;

Mine.

Soldat cannot recall much of his past except for a few things like his name.

But he knows that it has been a long, long time.

And it's time to go home.

But a home is not walls and concrete.

It is the people that live in it.

His head is a mess as he scales a wall and follows you to your building, skipping from roof to roof effortlessly with a careful eye on your form.

James had finally broken free against hydra yesterday morning while they were experimenting something more brutal.

And during the following hours, all various leaders that made the organization what it was were dead.

For what is a structure without its pillars?

He had plundered them single handedly.

And now he was a slave no more.

James would live, and he would take.

Just as had been taken from him.

You woke up the next morning, sprawled across your bed.

As you winced and sat up, you could swear you had knocked out on the couch last night.

But since you couldn't teleport, it was probably just a gap in your memory.

Right?

The second sign was the painkillers and water next to you on the bedside table.

The third was the window of your room that was open wide.

But you shook your head as you were behind on your schedule for the day and got on with your busy university student life.

You should have taken notice of the signs.

How things would always somehow work out when you were struggling with some sort of a problem.

Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was.

Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence.

And Divine it was, you lived to learn.

When it happened, it wasn't after a dramatic chase or anything.

You had simply woken up in a room you had never seen before, tucked in the bed like it had been yours for ages.

What even happened?

You had finished an assignment before heading to bed for an early class the next morning.

But now you were timidly surveying the room, more and more panic filling you by the passing second.

The house is beautiful and bright outside the dark room you had woken up in, big glass windows facing tall trees and various other type of greenery outside.

A loud gasp escaped you when you were somewhere in the middle of the living room.

You turned around to find a huge and by that you mean, giant man standing a few steps away from you.

You could swear he wasn't there a minute ago.

But now he is towering over you, head tilted to the side as if interacting with something from an outer planet, eyes scanning your form slowly.

As if he's savouring the sight of you in a…

Your blood runs cold as you look down to realize that you are dressed in a white sundress with yellow and red flowers printed on it.

Your eyes widen in horror.

Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–

Or, rather, the last time you were awake.

Before you can say anything, he extends a hand towards you invitingly, nodding sideways to what seems to be the kitchen.

Something in his hand glints in the sunlight coming from the windows.

It is when your panicked vision realizes that the hand and the whole arm is made up of metal, your body backs away.

With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.

"Who the hell are you?"

He sighs.

"What the hell is this place? Why am I here? What the fuck is going on?!"

The man's features scrunch in disapproval.

Your choice of words is much unappreciated.

"Good little wives don't ask questions."

In his angry, fried and entitled delusional mind you are as much in love with him as he is.

Otherwise, why would you just accept all the favours he did for you during all these months he was building a perfect home for the both of you and your future children?

He takes a step in your direction and you leap back.

After a short game of cat and mouse, you are trapped against the glass window.

He is too close.

There is a heavy looking vase on the table next to you.

The shock on his face is evident.

He hadn't expected you, his wife, such a small and innocent girl to disrespect her husband like this.

You whimper in horror when he doesn't budge against the decoration piece exploding against his brow bone.

James' eyes narrow as he leans in, a thick stream of blood running down the hurt side of his face.

"Bad girl" and you take off without a second thought.

Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.

You run without looking back.

The man is not chasing you like you expected.

But you don't want to stick around and find out why.

Though the reason is soon revealed when you race through the little garden and out of the fence door.

You are looking behind you and at the house so it is not until you are a good distance away from it do you turn your head to look ahead.

Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.

Sand and palm trees dominate your vision as far as you can see where you are and your right side.

A devastatingly vast ocean washes the shore you are running on from the left side.

That doesn't stop you until your body gives up after a few minutes.

You ran into the jungle for some cover.

Sobs and tears burst out of you as you collapse on a blanket of leaves.

Your body is weak and confused.

Many hours pass.

You wander and starve.

You hide and shake.

You tip toe and give up.

There are wild animals all around you.

You can hear them.

It's terrifying.

So terrifying that when you hear the stranger's voice some time after dusk, you are almost glad.

Are you done? His bright blue eyes that you can make out even in the dim light ask you silently.

"How'd you even find me?" You were sure you had run a good couple miles.

He refuses to respond until you place your shaking hand in his awaiting metal one.

"I can smell you" his accent is almost foreign as he pulls you up, frowning at your hurt bare feet.

It took you hours to get to where you were but it only takes James a few minutes to get you back home.

"Before I clean you up, I need to punish you." You are baffled. "Good wives don't run away from their husbands."

He doesn't listen to any of your protests and reason that day or ever.

"Little girls don't know what is right for them. Only their husbands can decide that."

He thoroughly washes you that night after giving you the worst spanking, paying no mind to your begging and crying.

You are sniffling as you sit on the bathroom counter wrapped up in a towel an hour later, your sore ass buzzing under you.

Your captor is kneeling in front of you as he tends to your hurt feet.

He tells you your rules as he does so.

"First, you are to always obey me no matter what. Second, your body belongs to me as I am your husband, so you should not try to deny me of it because it will never end well for you. Third, you will respect me or you will live to learn to do so. Four, you will do your chores like a good wife and fulfill your wifely responsibilities. Five, you are to always accept your punishments and thank me for disciplining you after I am through with you, should you choose to break a rule or misbehave. Six, you will not indulge in any activity that can potentially corrupt your little mind. Seven, you will speak with respect and never out of turn. Eight, you are to always greet me when you wake up or if I have been gone a while. Nine, you can try to run. I will never stop you. But when you return home after failing, you will take your punishment obediently. Ten, you must never touch yourself. You are mine and mine alone."

Since the spanking is still fresh on your skin you panic a little and fear forgetting them.

But you find them pasted on the fridge the following morning because he knew you were too dumb to remember them.

A few days pass before you explode about not being his wife and call him crazy.

"You weren't saying that when I did you all those favours."

Horror dawns upon you as you realize that it was him all along.

You don't give up easily, though.

You try to run more times than you can keep count.

Every direction, every plan and every map you make proves to be useless.

Because the last time you do so, you realize that you are on a fucking island.

And since there is a dock near the house with the pantry never running low on groceries, James has a means of transport hidden somewhere is no mystery.

But you don't know when he does it.

So far you haven't been able to figure out a pattern.

Either he was right about you being dumb or your captor was really good at staying one step ahead of you.

Anyways, you have no choice but to return to him crushed and sobbing as always.

He is reading something when you collapse between his legs; ready to accept your punishment as you have learnt that hiding and denying only makes it worse.

James isn't so bad if you follow his rules.

He is just a kidnapper and a misogynist with dangerous reflexes.

His face is smug as he puts the book away. You have noticed that he is not as stiff and troubled as he used to be when you first woke up here months ago at this point.

"How was it, doll?" He loves to hear you talk about it as he bruises your ass. "Any luck?"

Today, though, something different happens.

You don't know if it's resignation and surrender finally settling in or if you have actually started to like this life.

How James gives you a nod of approval and pats your head rewardingly whenever you follow all your rules without any trouble.

The way he lets you stay up past your bed time (yes you have one because good wives are healthy for their husbands) to read a book or watch a movie.

If you were extra good and talked to him (though he was a man of a few words) and helped him out with a little farming thing he had going on in the backyard/patio, he would even let you sleep in the following morning.

No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.

Just being what he considered good and then whatever you would mention briefly would be in the house within the next few days.

When he is done punishing you, you thank him and apologize according to routine. But then you hug him.

You tell yourself it is due to the sad reality that your torment is your comfort.

Has to be.

You have no choice.

And then something unexpected happens in the course of the next few days.

While trying to make the best out of this situation, you start to notice the little things, quirks and rituals, habits and mannerisms of this man.

How he doesn't say anything if he doesn't like a certain ingredient or condiment in something you cooked but pushes it aside to use as compost later.

The way he holds you extra tight some times when he mutters a foreign language in his sleep.

How he stares at the scary metal arm after a long day while waiting for you to finish up dinner.

Or the way he struggles to hold himself back whenever you are in a close proximity to him because you cried once he crept his hand up your ass in a sexual way.

You don't get him sometimes.

His morals are as mysterious as him.

Because he kidnapped you and forced you to be his wife in a '40's way, strips you to spank and humiliate you during punishments, then bathes and comforts you in his own way of silently holding you against his chest in his arms until you calm down.

Your tears don't effect him.

But then he refuses to touch you sexually after the one time he tried.

It takes you a while to make the most peace that you can with James, but it happens eventually because you don't have a choice.

The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.

You are helping him with his farming one day when you collapse.

James isn't happy to find out that you haven't had any of your daily water intake for the day.

After he is sure you are hydrated, it is punishment time because caring for yourself is also a rule you are supposed to never break.

Your ass is red and seething by the time he's done. Everything is pretty much routine except that you don't sit up to apologize and maybe hug him like usual.

Not even when he pats your ass to signal that he's done.

"H- Hubby?" You sniffle as you use the endearment.

It had been a proud discovery of yours.

James always gave in a little whenever you used it.

"Yes, little mouse?" You bite your lips as your thighs tremble.

Fuck.

"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"

"What about it?"

You bite your lip as you push your ass out and towards him, letting your legs part.

"Then why don't we act like it?" James is good at concealing his emotions and showing restraint.

But he can't help the way his cock hardens at the sight your pretty red thighs reveal to him.

Your perfect pussy is glistening with your creamy arousal, the entrance of your vagina blinking to indicate its need to be filled.

Fuck.

Though James starts off small and slow with his fingers rubbing your cunt, the night ends with him balls deep into your pussy with his length rearranging your organs.

Whatever was left of you to own for him, he does so after that night.

You cannot go on for long without having some sort of physical proximity to him.

The sex is wild and it's amazing with his stamina.

It is also instrumental in bringing you two closer than ever.

James opens up to you slowly, but only when you ask about it.

You had done so in the past as well.

But since it's genuine curiosity now, he feels comfortable telling you all about it.

It is a lot for you to take in and you almost don't believe him until he shows you some of his belongings from his time.

Things drift on as smoothly for a while as the waves outside your house.

And then comes the ultimate test.

Which decides the course of your future with him.

He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.

It isn't a usual occurrence.

But you had introduced him to comics lately and he had been obsessed with them despite claiming that they were too childish and unrealistic.

While he had a metal arm himself…

You adjust the quilt before getting ready for the day and heading out to make breakfast.

It is when you realize in panic that there aren't any apples left even though James had asked you to make a grocery list (that started when he started trusting you more) and you had assured him that you had enough apples for a while.

"I am gonna get the hairbrush today, I swear to God!" You mutter to yourself as you rush through the house like a headless chicken.

Thankfully, your garden had an apple tree so you could save yourself from a breakfast spanking at the very least.

But something standing next to the dock catches your attention before you can the apples you try to budge free from their branches.

A motorboat.

Before you can decide what you think of it, you are standing next to it on the dock.

It has fuel and a map. The key is in the ignition.

You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting.

A lot goes through your mind.

Flashbacks play before your eyes.

It is almost a full circle moment.

And then you are standing in front of James who is seated on a stool next to the kitchen counter you use for dining.

His head is lowered as he sips on his coffee and stabs at the breakfast you prepared with a fork.

"Hubby?" Your captor freezes before he slowly looks up at you.

The blue of his eyes is troubled. He is in disbelief. As though he wasn't expecting you to be standing here.

"There is a boat outside. Do you think someone could be–"

"You didn't leave." His voice is heavy.

"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"

You two just stare at each other for a while.

No words exchanged.

Then, for the first time ever, James gets up and hurriedly closes the distance between you two, enveloping you in his arms before pushing you against the wall behind you.

"I felt so angry and wronged that I thought I could take anything because I deserved it after everything that happened to me but… I love you too much, mouse."

He has never spoken this earnestly before.

"I just realized that I do too."

James kisses you passionately before you wrap yourself around him and close your eyes blissfully.

He tightens his own arms around you gladly.

He would have hated to end up back on square one with you had you chosen to try and escape.

The boat would have blown up a small fuse that would have been loud enough for his enhanced hearing if someone– you, were to turn the keys in the ignition.

Yes, he wasn't expecting you to be back but only too soon.

It was a test and you passed.

As always, James stuck to his ways and rewarded you for being such a good wife.

By giving you a ring, a new wardrobe and a baby that was the first of many to come.

What do you think hAH-

3K notes · View notes

tojii-fshiguro · 7 months

Text

b. barnes // 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓉ℯ 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽ℴℴ𝒹.

bucky barnes × (femme) reader.

summary: ❝to keep your small village protected from would-be attackers, presented omegas must be sacrificed to the mysterious alpha in the woods.❞

genre: ⚠ dark and adult content below. minors, dni.

warnings: non-con, non-con touching, non-con kissing, dub-con, dub-con touching, dub-con kissing, smut, unprotected sex, hunting/stalking, a/b/o themes, forced bonding, loss of virginity, canon violence, physical violence, mentions of blood and human sacrifice, and strong language. 18+ content. minors, dni.

word count: 3,514

note: this story contains adult and dark themes. please, do not proceed if you are under the age of 18 or if ANY of these warnings upset you! i am not responsible for your media consumption–you and only you are. you have been warned. *all grammatical mistakes are my own, not proofread.

*an: if you or anyone you know has been a victim of sexual violence, please reach out for help! i do not condone any of the actions described in this story, this is a work of fiction.

A cold wind blew in from the north, making the trees rustle like living things. It was growing colder with every passing day as winter began its arrival. Yule had transformed the fiery hues of autumn twilight to sparkled, frosted mornings and bitter winds. You went to the window. A fine glimmer of glossy frost formed intricate swirls on the glass, as sparkling snow softened the outside world into one flurry.

You looked on as the pale, cold light of winter moonrise illuminated your village as the townsfolk worked under the stars to prepare for the Winter Solstice. You couldn’t help but frown as you watched them place green garland on the fringes of rooftops, and light candles that led into the dark forest, in the shape of carved wolves. This time last winter, you were home with your family; sitting fireside as you and your younger siblings drank sweetened milk and almond honeyed toast. Life had been colorful, full of vibrant greens, warm reds, and soft dusky blues. Now, it was nothing but a black and white night of frost that crawled along the dark outline of barren trees and twig branches. Snowflakes swirled down gently in the ghostly moonlight, and iced shadows crept along the December ground.

“(Y/N)?” a small voice called out from behind.

You turned as Gervaise came to stand next to you, peering out at the snowfall that drifted against the window. Gervaise had been your closest friend since childhood, she had been a plump girl in her youth, but now she was the most beautiful woman in your village. She had long legs that complemented her slender figure, golden hair that shone under sunlight, and azure eyes as blue and clear as the sky itself.

She shivered against the winter-cold that seeped into your bones as she neared the frosted windowpane, “Aren’t you cold?” she asked.

You scoffed, “Warmer than I would be out there.”

Truth be told, you were burning from the inside out. A sheen sweat had started to form between your breasts and all of your folds and creases. Gervaise scooted closer and you unthinkingly flinched away, her heat was rolling off of her in waves and the strong scent of her made you lightheaded as tangs of jasmine, rose, and orange blossom overwhelmed your senses.

You moved away as you looked into the room you were being kept in. Women close in age all slept soundly with soft snores, their heated scents interlacing with one another to form a jumbled mess of musk, amber, bergamot, and warm sugar. It was a synchronous heat amongst the presented Omegas in preparations for the village’s annual sacrificial solstice to the White Wolf.

Gervaise nudged your shoulder teasingly, “It won’t be so bad tomorrow, (Y/N),” she tried.

You rolled your eyes, “We’re being sacrificed, Gervaise! How can it not be so bad?”

Her small smile fell as the weighted truth of your words settled on her shoulders, “I’m sorry… I was just trying to make light of it all.”

“I know,” you sighed, “You can’t make light of this, there’s too much darkness.”

You awoke hours later to the soft murmurs of falling tears as mothers dressed their daughters in traditional white hoods. White, the color of purity, innocence. You scoffed–the virgin’s color. Your own mother came to your bedside, a hood in hand and an expectant look in her eyes. You rubbed your cold feet together and reluctantly dressed.

“It’s not as bad as it seems, my love,” she spoke as she combed your hair.

You looked at the other Omegas in the room, most of whom you’ve grown up with. Idony, Meliora, and Sabine. You teared. You and your siblings used to play with Sabine as children. Idony taught you to weave dolls out of straw and vines. And you and Meliora would harvest wild strawberries together in early summer after long hours at the lake. The thought of never seeing either of them after today was heart-wrenching.

Your mother placed the hood over your head and tucked away stray hairs behind your ears as she took one last, tearful, look at you. She placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and took your hands in hers, pressing a small vial against your palms.

“Put this on once you’re away from the others,” she whispered against your hair, “It’ll hide your scent for a short time, then make your way across the stream, you’ll be safe there until the ceremony is over.”

Before you could ask more, the village mayor entered and ordered you and the other Omegas out into the square. The ceremony had officially begun.

Gervaise squeezed your hand as the mayor lit the great Yule log, the candles sculpted as white wolves. You looked around; Idony was pale in the face, Meliora shed silent tears as she held her hands in prayer, and Sabine’s chest rose and fell in shallow, frightened breaths. You held the vial tight in your hand as you stood stoic; though your pounding heart told another story.

The bells of the church began to toll as midnight quickly approached. The first toll the mayor led you all down the candlelit path that led into the mouth of the forest, the second toll you and the other Omegas were left alone as the full moon shone down on you from above, the third toll was followed by an echoed howl and the beats of your feet as you all ran through the thicket.

You ran and ran until it was only you, the full moon, and the trees. You stopped to rest against a frosted tree, your lungs burned with biting ice as you panted; your breaths coming out as vapored clouds that wisped around your head. You quickly took the vial and rubbed the liquid over your scent glands. The synthetic scent of cracked pepper, spiced ginger, decayed pear, and rotting leaves all toiled together to mask your natural, sweet and warm odor. You took a moment to calm your beating heart and collect your thoughts before bolting through the treeline. You needed to find Gervaise before the perfume wore off.

Bucky watched from the shadows as he tracked a pretty, golden-haired Omega. Her scent wasn’t unpleasant, but it didn’t ignite a fire deep within his groin, either. He followed the floral scent trail of this next best woman as she wandered aimlessly through the dense grove of pine. The woman’s face was rosy and tear-stained as the cold bit her cheeks and nose. It was pathetic, really. How she sniffled and hiccupped as she held herself against the winter winds or when she tripped and slipped over iced snowdrifts. Bucky was about to make his move when a sweet scent, carried on an icy breeze, caught his attention. The blood in his veins burst into flames as a deep desire awoke in him. Primal lust took over as he abandoned his former prey to hunt for the next. He bounded through the woods, ducking under long branches, and leaping across overgrown oak roots. It was the wildness of it that sent Bucky into a feral frenzy, in all of his years protecting this paltry village, he’d never scented anything as sweet and enthralling as this. Spun sugar, vanilla bean, patchouli, and white pumpkin with caramel glaze. His teeth ached as he took in the sweetness of your scent.

When Bucky finally found you, you were breathless and flushed with heat. Your hand on your stomach as a wave of tightness in your belly coiled and coiled. He scented the air, then. Groaning as he caught wind of your musky-sweet tang. The front of his buckskin breeches tightened uncomfortably as his rut took hold of his body. He wanted you, so he’d have you.

You whimpered as your cramps inflamed your insides. You were on fire, despite the bitter winter cold. You shed your wolf pelt that hung over your shoulders and loosened the front laces of your bodice, as you slumped against the nearest tree and focused on slowing your racing heart. The faster you calmed down, the faster you’d be able to find Gervaise and get across that damned stream to safety.

Just as your heart began to slow, a heady scent brought on iced winds set it back into panicked motion. An amber woody fragrance, with nutmeg, vanilla, and sandalwood ensnared your forebrain. You were frozen, scared like a hunted doe as you took in the masculine scent that seemed to scream “Alpha”.

Bucky watched as you looked around, trying to pinpoint his hiding spot. His heart skipped a beat in excitement as you took off into the thicket, leaving your pelt behind on the snowy ground. He chased you, then. Too focused on the hunt to worry about cornering you, too focused on you. He’d chase you down until you fainted from exhaustion if he had to.

You were faster than he expected, more agile and hellbent on escaping him than you had appeared to be. He felt an odd sense of pride as he watched you nimbly dodge and duck under and over every branch and uprooted oak that came into your way. But Bucky had the advantage, this was his territory, not yours. He knew his hunting grounds, not you. So when you came to a skidded stop at a broken bridge, he wasn’t the least bit surprised. But what did surprise him was the little snarl that left you before you broke away from him once more.

You ran and ran until your feet were numb with cold and your lungs frosted over with every breath you took. He was close, too close, and you were forced to abandon the plan on crossing the stream to safety. Gods–you didn’t even know where you were anymore. You could be going in circles and you’d be none the wiser, everything looked the same in this untouched part of the wood. You berated yourself for straying from the path, now you were lost, alone, and being hunted. You began to cry as you thought of your fate, you didn’t want to be sacrificed, you just wanted to go home back to your family. Back to your life.

You were ready to give up, your feet were tired, legs weakened, and your chest burned from the cold. You fell to your knees and looked up to the full moon, exhaustion taking over your thoughts. You were desperate and didn’t have the energy to be surprised at yourself when you began to pray to the moon above.

“Gods above… Please, please, let me live and I’ll devote myself to you. My heart, mind, soul, and body, please,” you prayed.

Just as you were about to laugh at yourself for your foolishness, a flickering candlelight in the nearby distance caught your eye. You mindlessly followed the light that pierced through the dense darkness of night, like a moth to a flame. As you got closer, you saw the lantern-light belonged to a small cottage fringed with winterberries and garland. You were uplifted as you believed the gods had answered your prayer. Without a second thought, your feet began to move on their own through the snow as you raced toward the home. You knocked once, then twice, then thrice. When there was no answer, you apologized to whatever being had heard you pray, before turning the brass doorknob and welcoming yourself inside.

The warmth of a crackling fire embraced you posthaste as you closed the door behind you. You made your way to the fireplace, rubbing your hands over the flame as you warmed yourself. The house was eerily silent as you looked around. You saw the carved candles from your village on the mantelpiece, vases of starry blue, pale pink, and white glory of the snow, and bright yellow winter jasmine were placed on the tabletops, and garland with holly flowers was wrapped around the railing of a small staircase that led upstairs. You made your way up the stairs as curiosity led you on. You called out for the owner of the home once again as you reached the top, but to no avail; the house was empty.

You crept along the creaking floorboards into a small room, illuminated by a single lantern with frosted glass windows. You explored the room. There was a bed, with an oak headboard, and thick, grey, and brown wolf and bear pelts. You sat down on the edge of the bed with a soft bounce as you rested your tired feet. Ahead of you was a wooden chest with intricate images of Yule logs, goats, and boars. Something deep within your gut urges you to go to it, to open it, and look upon its secrets; but the feeling made you uneasy, it made you afraid of what you’d find.

But you knew better than to ignore your gut, so you went to it, opened it, and looked upon its secrets. You nearly screamed as you pulled forth white hood, after white hood, after white hood. Your hands shook as you emptied the chest, white hoods covered the ground like the snow outside. There were more hoods than you could count, most of them much older than you. You sobbed as you slammed the chest shut, too focused on the white hoods before you to notice the slithering notes of amber, nutmeg, vanilla, and sandalwood that now threatened to constrict, and swallow you whole.

Your body sensed him before your mind did, your hairs stood on end, and your core tightened with primal, animalistic want. You only recognized his imposing presence after it was too late. Your throat dried as you slowly turned around to face the Alpha from the woods. He stood in the doorway, shirtless and steaming, as his heat fought against the cold of winter. To say he was big, would be an understatement. He was wordless as he strode toward you with an urgency driven by desire. You shuffled away, sobbing as he quickly crawled atop of you, trapping you beneath him. You fought against him, slapping and scratching his chest and face as he buried his face in your neck. Deeply inhaling your sickly sweet scent.

“I wonder if you taste as sweet as you smell, ‘Mega,” he said as he nipped the lobe of your ear.

Your heart dropped as he ripped at your bodice like an animal, tossing the ruined fabric aside as he bared your breasts to the air. The Alpha brushed his lips against your neck, your jaw, and mouth as he tasted you. You had never been kissed before, the feeling of it all was foreign as you felt his tongue explore your mouth. You squirmed as he palmed your breast, his thumb flicking and pinching over your sensitive nipple. Bucky let out a low snarl of disapproval as you tried to wriggle away from him, and when you ignored his warning, he bit down on your nipple. You yelped and beat against his back, clawing and punching as you flailed and thrashed. In your struggle you managed to slip out from underneath his body. Then, it was a desperate fight of him dragging you by your ankles, and you kicking wildly and blindly. With luck you landed a strong kick to his face that bloodied his nose. You ran, then. Practically flying down the flight of stairs as you made a beeline for the front door–to your freedom. You felt the cold snow on your toes as one foot met the icy ground, but the other foot was caught.

You fell on your face as Bucky dragged you back into his house. Blood stained his face and a dangerous fire was reflected in his blue eyes. He took you by your neck and forced you down onto the staircase, entrapping you under his weight. Your legs kicked out as he forced himself between your thighs, he snarled again, keeping a tight grip on the back of your neck. He ripped away the remaining pieces of your clothes, ridding you of the white garments, of your innocence, your purity.

He lifted your hips and placed a strong hand on your back, forcing you into an arch. You yipped as you felt a wet warmth lick up your sex. You tried to curl away, but his grip on you was strong and firm. A heat bloomed within your gut as Bucky dipped his tongue between your wet folds, fucking you with his hot tongue. Your brain hazed over as he stroked and rubbed your sweet spot of concentrated pleasure with his thumb. He was devouring you, and you felt your resolve melt away with every delicious flick and swipe of his tongue. You moaned and allowed yourself to arch into his mouth, desperately seeking more pleasure. You ground your cunt on his face and moaned at the feeling of him tightly gripping your hips as he gave you what you wanted–needed.

You clawed at the stairs beneath you as your voice grew shrill, the coil in your belly was beginning to unravel with every lick. Bucky felt you stiffen as he brought you to the edge of your pleasure, he sank his tongue deep inside you until he finally felt you shudder hard against him. You cried out as you came on his tongue, pure white fire ignited in your veins, consuming your thoughts, and burning away any fight you had left. The aftershocks of your pleasure left you shaking and wanting.

Without warning, Bucky buried his thick length in you with one hard stroke; mercilessly tearing through your untouched barrier. For a moment there was only a burning pain as he forced himself deeper. He pulled out a few inches, and then slammed back into you. Again and again. The Alpha above you howled with pleasure as he rutted into you hard and fast. You looked over your shoulder and moaned as you watched his narrow hips thrust against you. His eyes met yours and he bared his teeth as he indulged in his animalistic pleasure. With your mouth agape you felt another spark of pleasure ignite within you, you cried out for him, then, begging him to stoke the fire that threatened to burn, to consume you.

Your scents bled together, creating the beginning knot of your bond; his sandalwood and vanilla notes, duetting your patchouli and caramel glaze in perfect harmony. You whined as he pulled out of you, leaving you empty and clenching. He flipped you onto your back, spreading your weak legs wide as he entered you once more. He reached places that had you blaspheming as you chanted his title like a prayer.

Alpha, Alpha, Alpha…

He added fuel to your evergrowing fire as he reached down to your bundle of nerves, rubbing firm circles as he fucked into your wet cunt. He kissed you again, your lips following his lead as he claimed your mouth with his tongue. You moaned as you tasted yourself on him. His lips trailed down your jaw, peppering wet kisses down your body until he reached the scent gland on your neck. He scented you, then. A low growl left his chest as the base of his cock swelled, your pussy constricting in turn. Your howling moans clashed in dissonance as he pushed you over the edge into white-hot pleasure. Bucky thrusted into you, harder, faster, as his pleasure grew and grew until it finally exploded. As his warmth flooded you another sensation sent your senses into hyperdrive–his teeth sinking into your neck. Your arms and legs instinctively wrapped around him as he bonded you, marking you as his.

You murmured incoherently as your bodies locked together, you were so full of him that you could focus on nothing, but the feel of him locked inside you. Your head lolled to the side as your exhaustion set in, your bones felt heavy as sleep lulled you. You were vaguely aware of the man atop of you, too drunk on mated pleasure to fully acknowledge how his eyes began to once again devour your body.

He kissed your wound, breathing you in as he did, “What’s your name, Omega?”

“(Y/N),” you rasped.

“Bucky,”

As you sobered, the weight of your situation became clearer. All of those white hoods, all of those Omegas that never returned home… Your breathing picked up as panic sparked like lightning in your veins. You shoved on Bucky’s chest as you started to wiggle out from him, tugging on his knot. He snarled and snapped at you and you flinched as unshed tears glossed your eyes.

“Don’t hurt me, please,” you whimpered, “Please, I–I don’t want to die.”

“I’m not going to kill you, I’m going to keep you,”

Keep you? You trembled, “What about all of the other Omegas? What happened to them?”

He cupped your face and traced the bridge of your nose, then the cupid’s bow of your lips, “Them I killed,” he whispered with a ghost of a smile.

last updated: 10/5/2023. 10:59 pm, cdt.

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 6 months

Text

can't fight the moonlight

kinktober, day twenty-nine

a/n: this one was a fantasy that was so fuzzy and took a surprisingly long time to figure out, but the hazy dream of it kept me going till i solved the puzzle

summary: it didn’t matter what you did or how hard you tried, you had no way of overpowering the beast the moonlight turned him into.

warnings: werewolf!bucky barnes x reader, smut, bucky's wolf form is very humanoid looking (think more teen wolf, less twilight), dubcon/noncon, predator/prey, established relationship, monsterfucking, little to no foreplay, dirty talk, squirting, overstimulation, cock drunk, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, forced breeding, belly bulge, size kink, size difference

word count: 2345

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“…and you’ve got some water in case you get thirsty and-, oh! Do you have something to eat? A snack or something?” you blabbered tensely as you helped lock the heavy chains that your partner snaked securely around his own limbs, bolting him to the cold basement for the night, “because I could go make you-”

Letting the iron in his grasp suddenly fall to the floor in a loud clang, like a volcano he exploded, “no!” heatedly throwing his hands up as he fumed, “I don’t need a fucking snack, would you just-…” catching your wide eyes, his sudden anger thawed a bit as he finally heard his own words, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you clutched your hands close to your chest, the keys tight in them dug into your palms.

Head lightly tilting to the side, Bucky let out a sigh, “you’re just trying to help and I’m-”

“It’s okay, I know,” you reassured him, “it’s the moon, I get it, don’t worry, darling,” you averted your gaze, staring down at the cold concrete floor, “I’m sorry about freaking out, like I do every month, but I just wanna do something that can make this better for you, even a little bit, anything, even though I know that there isn’t anything that can, I still can’t stop trying because I hate this,” you heard your voice grow thick and tears begin to blur up your vision, “I really really hate this.”

“Y/n…” you felt his fingers gently graze your cheek, bringing your glossy gaze back up to his, “you are helping, more than you even know. Before I met you, before you moved in and started being here every full moon, I was always terrified of getting out, terrified that I couldn’t detain myself enough and someone would end up getting hurt or worse… but I’m not scared of that anymore. It hasn’t happened once since you’ve been here to bolt the chains I can’t get to on my own and lock the doors from the other side. Plus knowing that you’ll be here when the sun eventually comes up, I hold onto that, no matter how painful it gets or how much I disappear, that fact doesn’t, it stays with me, keeps me somewhat sane throughout the night.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you blinked away the mist in your eyes, trying to be brave as you uttered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he exhaled, gazing at you as you leaned in to seal the final padlock with a click. Getting up to your feet, you stepped towards the door, but your fingers froze on the knob as Bucky’s voice filled the cellar once more, “try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in a bit.”

Glancing over your shoulder at his shackled frame, sitting against the wall, skin already glistening from the pending trauma, you promised, “okay,” even though you knew this night wouldn’t be any different from the rest.

You could never sleep when the moon was full, never even relax enough to rest for a bit. Even though the layers of resources that encased the basement silenced Bucky’s screams of agony from the rest of the neighbourhood as well as your own ears, just the knowledge that only one floor below where you were trying to slumber, there your beloved laid in pain as every single bone in his body had to break before he could turn into a monster of the moon, that awareness kept you up better than any caffeine could.

Locking the solid steel door behind you, so you repeated with the one atop the wonky staircase, the rest of the house suddenly feeling so cold without his presence.

Still clad in garb you’d worn to work, you couldn’t bother to change out of it even if the dress and stockings weren’t the most comfortable clothing to do an all-nighter in, you just seized the grey cabled cardigan draped over the armchair by the fireplace and shrugged it over top.

Holding the kettle under the tap to fill it up, your weary vision locked on the ominous sphere looming in the night sky clearly visible from the kitchen window. Losing yourself to the sight, too absorbed by the troubling thoughts it brought on, you only snapped out of the trance when cold water began to flow over the side of the pot and soak your hand that clutched it.

“Oh, shit…” you mumbled as you hurried to turn off the water and pour some of the abundances back out into the sink.

Placing it down on the stovetop, you listened to the gentle clicking that emanated before the eventual flame as you turned the knob. The slight heat radiating beneath the kettle persuaded you to shift into the living room and with the flick of a match, light the fireplace, granting yourself more of that soothing heat to help battle the night.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when the water came to a boil, kettle whistling like a demon to relay the message.

With a mug of tea in your hand, you curled up in the chair by the fire and picked up the half-read book discarded on the small side table.

This was the routine, even though you never could concentrate, you still at least tried to distract yourself.

A sudden bang ripped your eyes away from the page they had glazed over four times by now. Your vision instantly trained on the door to the cellar, clearly visible from where you were sitting.

As the door then began to rattle rhythmically from an unyielding force, your body jumped at every thud, the novel in your grasp tumbling to the floor.

Frozen in your seat, you watched as the door splintered, swiftly losing the short-lived battle and flying off its hinges.

With heavy footsteps, Bucky’s visage stepped into the light, except it wasn’t the Bucky you knew, not one you’d seen with your own eyes, but only ever heard tales about.

At first, you thought he still looked like himself, but as the firelight flickered across his form, you finally noticed just how altered he was. His natural body hair had quadrupled, fuzzing up his visage and the rippling muscles that hid beneath it, those as well seeming to have swelled up making his frame nearly unrecognisable. Though he always towered above your comparative stature, his height now was something else entirely. The sight of his eyes chilled you to the very bone, the calming blue was completely drowned out by a sea of black, with only a tiny golden flicker in the middle differentiating the obsidian. Nails long and tough like claws, broken chains still clung to his form as you watched his lip curl, a low growl rumbling throughout the room and letting you catch sight of his sharp teeth.

Scarcely breathing at all, your hopes of him not noticing your presence began to fade as he predatorily sniffed the air.

Your eyes suddenly grew wide as you spotted a part of him begin to swell up and come into the light. Throbbing, his unusually grand length intimidatingly curved upwards, it too haven grown just as the rest of his body had.

Finally breaking through your terror, you sprung up and tried your best to run, though you didn’t get far as, within mere seconds, the natural hunter caught up to you and tackled you down to the ground, shredding the cosy knit you wore in the process.

Cheek smooshed against the floorboards, you trembled beneath his beefy form as his flaming chest pressed against your back, knowing full well that if you made one wrong move, aggravated him in any sort of way, he could snap you like a twig. It didn’t matter what you did or how hard you tried, you had no way of overpowering the beast the moonlight turned him into.

As your eyes flickered to the front door, it dawned on you that if he could break not only the chain that bound him, but also the strong basement doors, then the last barrier that kept him from the outside world wouldn’t even make him break a sweat.

Growling directly in your ear, you felt his agitated breath fan across your face as his nose buried itself in your hair. Starved sniffs slowly travelling south, your heart nearly burst out of your chest as you felt him rip your clothes to shreds. Dress tattered and hanging off of you, your underwear swiftly disintegrated completely as only your stocking truly survived the attack, still clinging around your quivering thighs with only the smallest of tears to tell the tale.

Grinding desperately against the curve of your form, his monstrous girth nudged against you, catching you off guard as even in this petrifying form, you still felt your body respond to him.

“Bucky, Buck!” your voice squeaked in an attempt at breaking through to him, “it’s me! It’s me! It’s Y/n!” wildly flipping you over and roughly aligning himself with your core, you desperately tried to catch his dark eyes and try again, “Bucky, please!”

Joints locking up at the sound of your shrill cry, a flicker of reignition washed over his haunting glare, softening it slightly as you finally heard him speak, “…Y/n?” his voice was much lower than you’d ever heard it, though very much still his, “oh, fuck… I-…” a shaky breath escaped his lungs as he hovered above you, the tip of his cock nuzzled between your folds, “…I don’t think I can stop…” he grunted, his hand right beside your head digging into the floorboards and leaving splintery scratches in its wake, “I can’t fight it, I’m trying, but-”

“It's okay,” you carefully reached up and touched his cheek. You couldn’t let him run out that door and take some innocent lives. At this moment, all of his focus was aimed at you, so if it could just stay there and not stray till the sun came up, if you could distract him for only a little while longer, then the night might end without any unnecessary bloodshed. So, therefore, you gave in, “I love you, I love you so much,” your glistening eyes blinked up at him as you tried to speak with confidence, “you’re not gonna hurt me, I know you’re not. It’s okay, it’s-”

Plunging into you, an almost animalistic noise accompanied his harsh action as the beast he’d become seized exactly what it desired. All of the air got pushed out of your lungs as he buried himself in you, stretching you out beyond belief and forcing a shuttering cry to tumble from your lips.

Never mind the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom, a thing the two of you had always been careful about, that detail fought to penetrate through the fog he sent you into. Stunned that you could even take it all, the sensation of him made your mind melt. You felt all of it. Every vein and every ridge, every jaw-dropping detail that decorated his monstrous cock drove you to madness.

“Fuck!” he snarled, bucking his hips so hard against yours that your whole body shook, the sloppy clapping of skin against skin filled the home as he greedily rammed against the deepest spot inside of you, “do you have any idea how long I’ve tried to break out of those chains?” leaning down closer, he inhaled deeply, “I can fucking smell you…” you shivered as his nose ghosted against yours, “all the way down in the basement, no matter where you are, I can always smell you… calling for me, begging me to come and rip you apart…”

Leaning back again, his bruising grip found your hips and plucked them up, holding them tight as the rest of you still laid melted against the floor like a puddle before him. Like a ragdoll in his grasp, he moved your body, fucking your drooling pussy like the ravenous beast he was.

As your eyes fluttered down to where he virtually split you in two, the dull bulge that rhythmically appeared in your lower stomach at each and every one of his ruthless thrusts caught your attention, the vision making you dizzy.

You had never felt like this, never felt anything so intense in your whole life. He was just so menacing, so magnetic, so massive. Your own enthusiasm caught you by surprise, especially as your cunt soon began to cry out around him, showing your living room floor in your want as you squirted all over his rock-hard girth.

Usually, Bucky would slow down and give you a moment whenever you had an orgasm, but in this moment, tonight, it wasn’t your Bucky that was pounding the living hell out of you, it was someone else, something else, and that creature only seemed to get even more riled up by your lewd display as he picked up his speed till his gravelly groans grew louder and his efforts began to go sloppy.

“Please, Buck,” you mumbly pleaded, picking up on his telltale signs through your cock drunk haze, “not inside.”

But he didn’t listen to you as he just kept on fucking you till he pumped your pussy full of his cum.

Panting and puffing above you, he still kept up shallow thrusts, rocking you against him and pushing his load out of your overly sensitive cunt with every piercing plunge.

“Buck?” you heard yourself uttered as you found his dark gaze, though what stared back at you was not your love anymore as there was no recognition to be found in his eyes at all.

Slamming you back against him hard enough for it to sting, you shuttered at the possibility that he was nowhere near done satisfying his carnal desire.

But just before he could ruin you completely, a sliver of light began to dawn on the far side wall. Glancing out the window, you barely managed to spot the morning crest over the treetops in the distance.

#lea’s writing #kinktober 2023 #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #werewolf!bucky barnes #dark!bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #werewolf!bucky #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #winter soldier smut #bucky barnes au #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x you

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kaismasterlist · 11 months

Text

|| Bliss ||

Description: What happens when a spoiled and disgraced Princess is handed off to an ex-Winter Soldier as a strategy for the royal family to be rid of her and ensure the Soldier's loyalty to them at the same time?

Pairing: Dark Ex-Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes | Brat Princess!Reader.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Bucky Barnes. This series contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Dark themes that vary from chapter to chapter.

Status: Complete.

Chapters:

III

#bliss masterlist #kais masterlist #bliss #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky x y/n #dark!bucky smut #dark!bucky x you #dark!bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x smut #dark marvel #dark!winter soldier #winter soldier smut #winter soldier

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highonmarvel · 9 months

Text

Ribs

Bucky Barnes: Mob!Bucky finds you. 18+ only.

additional content warnings here!

CONTENT WARNING, PLEASE READ: This piece includes graphic depictions of domestic violence. Seriously, this is really dark; do not proceed if you are uncomfortable with explicit descriptions of physical and verbal abuse and rape. This is your warning. This is fucking dark. I can not stress this enough. I am fucked up.

Non Con Warning!

What’s scarier than dating Bucky? Leaving him.

You thought with dating the most notorious mob boss in New York, the biggest danger would be his enemies, no: the biggest threat to your safety was him. When you had first met him, you hadn’t known who he was, having only moved to New York a few months prior. He was charming, and he had an air of danger about him you couldn’t help but be attracted to; you thought it would be fun, a New York bad boy, he was all mysterious. You didn’t have any friends at the time, so no one could have warned you about who he really was, and by the time you found out, you were in too deep.

Maybe him being suspiciously rich should have raised a red flag, because even the most pretentious of the wealthy don’t take a limo to a bar, but he had, that first night you met him. The loud chatter had ever so slightly dimmed when he entered the bar, but you only thought it was because he was wearing an expensive suit, and though you rolled your eyes at the flashy display, you couldn’t help but stare at him as he made his way through the room—crowds parted, everyone tried to appear that they hadn’t noticed him, but it was crystal they had. You can’t not notice a man like that.

He disappeared into a back room with two men trailing behind him, and after a few minutes emerged looking slightly disheveled, but satisfied. You tried your hardest to focus on… something else when he sat down beside you and ordered a whiskey, but that was practically impossible when everything about him was magnetic. You chanced a look at him only to find him already staring at you, blue eyes twinkling with a mischievousness you couldn’t quite place and a small smirk. He had taken you home that night.

You hadn’t fled because of his business, selfishly, you could live with the fact he hurt other people—for a while, you could live with the fact he hurt you too, because he just had you captivated. He was harsh, brutal, but could also be loving, he bent over backwards to your every desire—say the word and he’d do it.

Except when you asked him to stop.

You had to leave New York altogether, you knew; he ran the whole fucking city, there was no way you could hide from him in the kingdom he ruled. You had struggled to pick where to go next, if you had had the money, you honestly would have left the fucking continent, started a new life in Namibia or Australia or Japan or however far away from him as you could get, but for now you were restricted to the States. Was Los Angeles too big a city for him to find you, or was it too obvious? Maybe he had people there, you had no idea. Would a small town be too quiet to scream for help, or so obscure he wouldn’t even think to look there?

You settled on a random town in Colorado.

You had ditched your phone the second you could—you had had to hold onto it a bit longer in order to get around, and received many calls and angry texts, but you had tossed it into a street somewhere in Oklahoma and picked up a random brick phone just to have. You thought you were being dramatic at first, taking all these measures, but no, James Barnes is the most powerful man in New York state, more powerful than you could have imagined when you first discovered who he was. He runs everything. He always gets what he wants, and he wants you.

I’ll find you you fucking cunt.

His last text message to you before you had destroyed your phone. You didn’t doubt he could.

You cut your hair, dyed it a shade darker, and spent the first month looking over your shoulder, jumping at shadows, barely speaking to anyone, unsure of who you could trust and who you couldn’t, even from so far away you remained cautious. Picking a job was difficult; if you got an office job, could he find out through fucking white collar records or something? If you got a job in retail, would someone recognise you and alert him?

You got a job at a bookstore—fairly quiet, and the rows of shelves seemed like good enough hiding places were he to hunt you down. Hunt.

In front of the mirror, you pull up your t-shirt to examine your ribs: the bruises are starting to fade, and there’s only a dull pain when you run cold fingers over the light blue. The final reminders of the night you had feared for your life, the night you had decided you had to leave, were starting to fade.

Bucky had gotten violent many times before, but never had you feared for your life; you genuinely thought he was going to kill you.

He had come home fucking livid like you’d never seen before, and three months later you still have no clue as to why. At least when he had been drinking his blows were slightly less hard and you were sometimes (very rarely) able to outrun him and lock yourself in a bathroom for the night, but that night he was drunk purely on anger.

You were genuinely surprised he hadn’t broken your ribs; just hit after hit until you could barely breathe—you thought you’d suffocate. Turns out he had fractured your right foot, but even still you left New York limping badly, knowing if you stopped even to just get it checked out, you’d never make it out the city.

Here, in your new town, you got your foot checked out and fixed up by a friendly doctor, Dean, who you’d taken a liking to. Though it was a bit worse for wear considering you’d left it unchecked for a week, and even now you still couldn’t walk quite right, he assured you you’d make a full recovery.

Dean and you had been growing closer, and you thought he would eventually ask you out, until one day he stopped visiting you at work—usually he’d come in every Wednesday afternoon, but he hadn’t, and you couldn’t reach him online. You even went into his practice, but his assistant had said he’d just taken a camping trip. Your stomach twisted, but you left it, and took he had just gone away for a while.

Deep down, you knew.

The third Wednesday afternoon Dean hasn’t dropped it. You walk back to your place a little down; despite not knowing him well, you were really growing to like him.

You sigh, kicking off your shoes as you enter your apartment and into the pile by the door. You turn on the lights as you make your way through the small place, still limping slightly: corridor, light on; kitchen, light on; living room, light on.

You can’t even say your blood runs ice cold, more like it freezes in your veins.

Bucky is seated comfortably in your armchair, of course nursing a drink, face entirely stoic, and eyes fixated on yours, as if he had been staring at that exact spot for hours, knowing you would fall into his line of vision.

But the door was locked, you want to cry, How did he get in? No windows are broken, nothing.

“Sweetheart,” he coos as he sets his drink on the side table, “I’ve missed you.”

“Why?” is all you can muster, barely a whisper, more like a nearly silent whistle in wind, one you can only hear if you were to really strain for it, and if you knew what to listen for. Why is he here? After three fucking months, you thought (hoped) he’d just lost interest—this can’t be the first time he’s had a girl run away from him considering how he treated you. Why is he so set on this? You can only imagine it’s stubbornness and pride, not wanting to lose a prize, no matter how ill he treated it. And why you?

Of course, though, you can’t articulate any of these thoughts, you can barely even think them, can’t process them, all turning to a light buzz in your in your mind, one that could be mistaken for pure static—just absence of thought. No thoughts, all thoughts, you can’t even care about.

“Of course I missed my favourite girl,” he offers, a lopsided smirk forming on his handsome features, “Sit,” he instructs, so gently you wonder if you’ve imagined it—a very direct order (and you know he doesn’t like to be disobeyed), yet delivered in the softest manner.

The bruises on the right of your ribcage sting as you stare back at him, unmoving. Bucky never repeats himself, and he doesn’t now, seeming to overlook your defiance (though really it’s shock) as he leans forward slightly and begins speaking to you.

“You’re a smart girl, I can tell from how you really tried to cover your traces when you left, huh? You’re a smart girl, so why would you do something so stupid?”

He stands, and you stumble back with a whimper at a harsh misstep on your injured foot.

“And now you’re out here all alone… you need someone to take care of you; look at you, honey,” he gestures to your foot, and if you could get your vocal chords to work, you would scream at him that he did this.

He stalks towards you, and where the sudden adrenaline comes from, you have no idea, but you dart for the front door. He’s on you in a second, slamming your head against the door and watching you slide down. He stands over you a foot on either side of your body and looks down on you, slightly amused.

He’s pure evil.

It occurs to you the front door is locked anyway, you’re caged under him in the narrow corridor, and so you try to crawl through his legs, but he turns and grabs you by your injured foot.

You shriek in pain and desperately try to claw forward, but he tugs you back and twists harshly so you have no choice but to turn over or risk him twisting your fucking foot off.

With more strength than you’ve ever mustered, you swing your left foot up and kick him hard in the crotch. He howls in pain as he drops your foot.

“You fucking bitch!”

You scramble to stand and dart for your bedroom, hoping to climb out the window. He limps after you, and you cry out as he grabs a fistful of hair and tugs you back. You manage to stumble into the bedroom. He grips the doorway and you slam the door after him, hearing a deafening crunch and a yell behind you. You push your back against the door, planting your feet firmly in the ground and trying with all your bodyweight to keep him out, but he easily blows it in, and you fall forward.

You start screaming at him and kicking, but he catches your legs, leaving you to only pathetically wiggle underneath him. He leans down and shouts, “Shut the fuck up!” bringing down a hand you feebly attempt to grasp to stop him, but he slaps you, “You’re a fucking cunt!”

You assume you’re crying, but you can’t feel anything on your cheeks but the sting of his hand.

He drops down to his knees and straddles you easily, despite your struggling against him. He punches you in the face, his rings leaving deep cuts against your cheek. Again, and again, and again, until his knuckles are bloody from the cuts he’s left. You attempt to cough but he brings a fist down and punches your throat. You can barely gasp before he grabs your neck and pulls you up close to his face.

His voice is dangerously low as he drawls, “You’re lucky I have the decency to fuck you on the bed.” He spits in your face and slams your head back down into the floor. He gets off you and, before you can even move, kicks you in the ribs; you can feel the bruises—the healing bruises, they were healing—bloom once again against your skin, against your bones. You roll over before he grabs your left arm, twisting harshly and pulling you across the small room.

You feel your shoulder pop out of place and scream louder than you ever have in your life, an intense white hot pain shooting across your shoulder as it’s dislocated. You can’t even beg him to stop through your sobs and unbearable pain, you can’t breathe, you want to throw up.

This time, you almost wish he does kill you. You wish for him to kill you.

He pulls you up onto the bed, your shoulder blade sliding further across your nerves and sparking pain as intense as the first few seconds all over again. He tosses his suit jacket to the side as you try to sit up. He presses down hard against your injured shoulder, and you choke on your own cry, suffocating more than screaming, at this point.

He punches up from your chin and your head lolls back, your teeth hitting each other harshly, before he uses the opportunity to grasp your throat with one hand, tearing your skirt off with the other.

It’s too painful to struggle other than weakly kicking your legs, which he effortlessly ignores, maybe he doesn’t even feel it.

Mind over matter, Mind over matter, Mind over matter—

You repeat to yourself when you hear him spit in his hand and softly groan as he runs his hand up and down his cock. You don’t even know when he unbuckled his belt.

You close your eyes and try to focus on your breathing; Mind over matter, mind over matter, mind over matt—

He head-buts your forehead, effectively pulling you out of your attempted mental respite. Bucky is scary; he looks down at you with wild eyes, and you hadn’t noticed blood dripping from his temple. You briefly wonder how much blood you’re covered in when he interrupts your thoughts; “Stay with me, bitch.”

“Please stop,” you finally find words rather than shrieks, your voice hoarse and words slurred, like you’ve never spoken before.

He just smiles—smiles—and then thrusts into you, stretching you open, not giving you any time to adjust to his massive length before pounding into you, beyond rough, beyond violent, he’s a fucking mad man, he’s feral. You attempt to grab onto his shoulders and pry him off but your own shoulder hinders you. You weakly punch at him with your right hand, but he doesn’t feel it, and at this point, you’re just exhausted. Throat hoarse, head aching, shoulder burning, foot in pain, and your ribs on fire.

He lets go of your throat and feels around on the bed for his jacket, pulling something out of the inner pockets.

Before you can even process it, he places his other hand over your mouth and presses something cold and metal to your knee. He fires the gun, the bullet flying from the front of your kneecap, shattering the cartilage, and resting in your flesh. He presses down harder on your mouth so your scream is completely guttural.

“Try leave me now,” he pants as she shoots out your other kneecap.

He presses the gun to the right side of your rib cage, digging into the bruises, “Next time you leave me will be in a fucking body bag.”

Ribs (II)

✪

#dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x you #dark!bucky smut #dark!bucky barnes x you #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x y/n #dark!bucky x y/n #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky #dark bucky barnes x you #dark bucky x you #dark bucky smut

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tempestuous-lush · 1 year

Text

daddy || f!reader x dark!Bucky

summary: You're a good girl. Dating Steve Rogers. In school pursuing a degree. You're a good girl. With a secret. You're a good girl who runs a cam show and when you meet Steve's friends you realize your best customer is also his best friend.

warnings: masturbation, daddy kink, breeding kink, creampie, bathroom sex, hints of cum play, underwear gagging, public play, demeaning sex, and dark!Bucky.

My first time writing a dark!Bucky.

I hope it lives up to the expectation.

tags: @sweetieswiftie @tarotwitchy-main

word count: 2,946 k

[part one] [part two]

You observed yourself in the full length mirror.

A sigh escaped you.

Why were you so nervous?

No big deal. You were just meeting Steve’s friends. Captain America’s friends. You quickly slipped your dress off in frustration before landing face down in your bed and groaning into the mattress. You pushed yourself up though and flipped onto your back instead, your hair splayed out around you before exhaling again.

“Screw this.”

You were talking to yourself. Very healthy.

What you needed was a dose of confidence. You were trying to dress modestly, to avoid getting unwanted gazes. But you knew exactly what would make you feel bold and ready to take on the world.

You pulled on a garter belt and clipped on your stockings in a delicate polka dot print, the seam running up the back. Next you pulled on a nude bralette that matched your stockings with the same delicate mesh and polka dot pattern. It was one of your favorite things to cam in for a reason.

You looked good, and you knew it.

There were matching panties, but you had sent those to someone only a week or so ago. So, you grabbed your loose fitting dress and slipped it back on your frame. You sat on the bed to slip on your heels, relishing in the way your dress pooled against your bare cunt.

A smirk appeared on your face as you looked over at your streaming corner. The corner of your room had a camera set up, warm fairy lights along the background with a settee. You’d told Stebe this was your reading area when he’d come over, the equipment tucked away beneath the bed.

You glanced at the clock and saw the time. You had forty minutes to spare. Turning on the camera, you looked at the screen with a fanning of eyelashes before backing up to be in full view. A small smile graced your lips as soon as you heard the sounds of notifications letting you know people were joining. You slowly unbuttoned your dress revealing your flesh and lingerie as you more or less purred, “just jumping in real quick to say hello…”

Unbuttoning the last button, you shrugged out of your dress before dragging your fingers along your body. A small moan escaped you as you ghosted along your slit. Part of you used to hate how wet this made you, playing with yourself on camera for money. But now? You didn’t even blink.

You smiled as your favorite customer appeared in chat, knowing it was him by the message and not the handle.

Hello doll.

You had no idea what he looked like, but there had been multiple times he’d paid good money for you to chat with him privately. He’d talked you through more orgasms than you could count while you played his favorite roll: his doll. His bred, cum filled doll.

You smiled at the message, “Hey baby.”

He typed back. Do you have time for me today doll?

“Always. I’ll send you the link as usual baby.”

You saw other comments coming through, begging you to stay for just a few more moments. Instead, you cup your breasts and roll your nipples through the mesh, giving a bit of a needier moan, “Don’t worry boys, this was impromptu. I will be back at my scheduled time.”

You move your camera to point towards your bed, making sure it was close enough for him to see well, before sending him an invite link. Before you came into frame you heard him, “I’ve missed our meetings doll.”

A small smile lingered on your lips as you pulled your favorite toy from the drawer, a guilty pang pulling at you as you thought of Steve.

You shoved it down though as you sat on the bed and slowly spread your legs for him, dragging your toy along your thighs. A breathy sigh escaped you as you asked him, “You’ve missed my wet little pussy, daddy?”

You heard a hiss escape him. Daddy. It’s the one thing he asked you to call him. You were taken aback at first but a part of you realized quickly how much you loved it.

You heard a groan.

“Is that big cock hard for me daddy?”

You heard him as he spit, his breath falling heavy as he began to stroke himself. He breath fell in heavy pants quickly, “Doll, gonna fuck you one day and when I do you’re gonna want my cock buried deep inside you all the time. But for now stuff that wet pussy with your little toy.”

His voice was strained, like he was trying hard to hold back. You teased yourself. You only rocked the head of your toy into your hole, walls clutching at nothing. Part of you enjoyed teasing him, “M’daddy…m’need something bigger. Need your cock. M’so wet.”

“Need my fucking cum deep inside you.”

At his words you sank your toy inside of you, your arousal letting you take it eagerly. Your back arched off the bed as you called out, “Fuck yes.”

“Look so good. Gonna cum. Can I cum on that pretty pussy doll? Gonna fuck me inside of you with your toy?”

“Mmm fuck. Gonna make me all messy with your cum daddy?” God you were so close.

“Yebat!” He let out a heavy grunt before all you could hear was his breathing, heavy, erratic.

You were so close. You flipped to your stomach and thrust your ass in the air, giving him the perfect view of your soaked core before you plunged your toy back inside. You rolled your hips and shuddered at the sensation. Then, you brought your ass down, thrusting up with your toy, and hitting the perfect spot you came hard, crying out incoherently… your cum squirting out of you as you pulled your toy from your spasming pussy.

He followed right behind you.

Bucky’s cum shot out of him as he inhaled the scent of the worn panties you sent him as a thanks for his “support”. It made it even better that the pair you sent him matched the set you currently were wearing.

His cock started getting hard again as he watched you lightly stroking your pussy, body jerking at every touch from over sensitive you were. He had never ached for anyone like this before. Bucky glanced down at his watch. Fuck. He didn’t want to be here but Steve was adamant he would be there.

As you slowly came down from your high and caught your breath, you smiled at the camera shyly.

Bucky’s head fell back in frustration before groaning, “M’sorry doll. Daddy has somewhere to be or else I’d happily pay to see you cumming again and again.”

“S’that so, daddy?”

You weren’t sure why you were doing this. You were about to go to dinner with Steve. Yet, you reached to your nightstand and pulled out a toy that only he would know.

Bucky smirked knowingly as he saw it.

You slipped the wearable vibrator inside of you, the slender arm of it nestled to you until it ended right at your clit. You sent him the link and he immediately cranked it high, causing you to double over at the sensation before he let off, nearly cooing, “Had to make sure it worked my little doll. Gonna tease you all night so you think of me.”

After smiling and saying goodbye, you watched as a notification came through that daddy left you $750. There was also an attachment.

He had never sent one before, and so out of curiosity you opened it.

A gasp left you as you were greeted with a picture of a heavy, thick cock with cum pooled beneath it. A blush erupted on your cheeks as you saw your panties draped over the base. You instinctively licked your lips at the sight of semen beaded at the tip.

And that was when you felt it, the lowest setting. A warmth bloomed inside of you, even as you cleaned your thighs up and pulled a new dress on. It was a powder blue and despite the top of it fitting tightly, the bottom flowed to your knees.

Just as you finished getting yourself together your doorbell rang and you opened it, smiling at Steve just as the setting went up one. A small gasp of surprise escaped you and Steve smiled, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

Suddenly feeling needy, you pull him by his shirt collar and give him a long, lingering kiss. Carding his hair with your fingers, you pull at the base of his skull which had him moaning against your lips before he pulled back, “As much as I’d like to explore this, we have to get to the restaurant on time, yeah?”

A small blush crept across the bridge of your nose before you nodded, and his hand enveloped your own and gently pulled you along.

Bucky was already half through with his drink and talking to Natasha when you walked in, Steve’s arm draped across your shoulder. The first thing he spotted were those stockinged legs that he would recognize anywhere. Following the line of sight up, he noticed the dress, and then saw your face. He turned to his phone, nonchalantly saying something to Nat. It couldn’t be you, could it? He turned the setting up to the highest one without any warning and watched you react. Your breath caught and your legs pressed together momentarily before he turned the setting down to the lowest once more. Fuck. He knocked the rest of his whiskey back in one gulp.

What are the fucking chances?

Just as Bucky motioned for another drink, Steve reached him and Nat looking like the proudest man around. He eyed you. Does he know, doll? Does he know you get paid by men to degrade yourself? Does he know you get off on begging your daddy?

You were distracted by the woman first. Beautiful. Curvy. Red hair. Just off that alone, you imagined this must be Natasha. You were about to say hello, the smile on your lips fading as you saw him. You didn’t know who this was. Hard, dark blue eyes staring at you. It almost felt like he could see your soul bared only to him. It was unsettling. As though he were the opposite of everything comforting you found in Steve. He had dark hair, hard lines, was silently judging, and devastatingly handsome. You saw the dim light of the Edison bulbs reflecting from the metal of his arm. Bucky. You held your hand out to Nat and introduced yourself.

Bucky was watching you intently, not interested in the way Steve held his arm around you or laughed as Natasha introduced herself and said some ridiculous quip. No. He heard your name falling from your lips. It was beautiful. Perfect. Like you. Daddy’s little whore, begging to be filled to the brim with his cum.

Bucky snapped out of it when he heard Steve, “And the antisocial lump in the corner here is James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky for short, and my best friend.”

His smile was dazzling and took you off guard.

He held out his hand and you took hold of it without question. Though, your grip faltered as he said his next words, “So nice to finally meet you, doll.”

Doll.

You realized who this was at that word, that voice.

The whole time you were sitting at the table, trying to hold a conversation with Natasha, Steve, and now Sam and Wanda. Bucky was knocking back drinks while absorbed in his phone. To everyone else, he seemed to be rudely absorbed in his phone. But to you? God fucking dammit. You were trying your best not to die, ignoring the ever growing ache growing between your thighs. About half way through the meal though, you threw your napkin down, “Excuse me, m’not feeling well.” You walked swiftly, legs shaking, frantically asking the bartender where the bathroom was. And just as Steve got up to follow you, he got waylaid by a fan asking for a picture.

Steve smiled in thanks as Bucky stood up and simply reassured his friend, “I’ll go check on her.”

You quickly found the bathroom and opened the door, slamming it shut and frantically clicking the lock. You sat on the toilet and spread your legs, resting the heel of your left foot on the sink to hold them open. You quickly removed the toy, throwing it to the side where it landed in the sink, your arousal dripping from your pussy now that the toy wasn’t plugging you up.

You needed friction.

Desperately, you sank your fingers inside of yourself, the noises as you crooked them to hit that sweet spot only driving your frenzied arousal. You mewled, needing more and not having it. Your slippery fingers against your sensitive clit didn’t help either. Then you stilled as you heard a knock, followed by a voice, “Doll, you okay? Steve sent me to check on you?”

His voice hit you just as you started to finger yourself again. The combination made you moan. Another knock as you frantically fucked your hand like a wild animal in heat, “Doll, if you unlock the door…I can help you. You’ll feel so much better.”

You stilled again before struggling to get to your feet, slowly walking to the door. You unlocked it and stepped back. The door slammed open and you were met by the sight of Bucky palming his cock through those tight fitting jeans, looking at you with nothing more than lust. Quickly walking in, he closed the door and locked it before taking something out of his pocket. Your fucking underwear. You weren’t sure what to feel about the fact that he carried them on him to dinner.

But he roughly grabbed your cheeks and pressed so your mouth opened and he shoved them inside of your mouth. A muffled moan escaped you as he spun you around and pinned your hips against the sink. As you began to salivate over the delicate fabric, you realized…it tasted of his cum. Fresh. Salty. Musk. It was all him.

You were reignited at the realization he must have cleaned up with them earlier. This was the fucking counter in the background of the picture he sent. And then you heard the zipper of his jeans and he lined up the head of his cock before snapping his hips up and you clamped his hand over your mouth as you cried out, muffled already by the fabric.

Bucky groaned in your ear, “Fucking hell doll, so wet for daddy. So needy. Nod yes for me doll if this is all from me playing with you.”

You nod into his hand, tears threatening to spill at the sensation of him fucking you.

“Too much of a fucking whore for Steve to handle properly.”

Fuck me, fuck me.

“Gonna make you cream daddy’s fat cock inside you, doll, and then gonna fill you with my cum. And we’re gonna do it fast, doll. Lest you want Steve to know how fucking filthy you are.”

Bucky watched as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You felt more amazing than he even thought possible. He pulled his phone out again and turned the toy all the way up before grabbing hold of it and pulling your head back with the hand covering your mouth, his other held the toy firmly against your clit. It was your undoing.

You came so fast, Bucky still driving deep inside of you even as you did.

Suddenly, he grunted, “Ready for me doll? Pussy so greedy you’re gonna milk me dry. Smooth as silk with how wet you are for me.”

Then, with one final thrust deep inside of you, he came. His cum painted your walls and he turned off the toy, pulling out of you and taking his hand away with your underwear in his fingers. Reduced to panting, you pressed your legs together, inexplicably wanting his warm seed to stay inside of you. He handed you your panties, knowing, and you slipped them on.

Tucking his cock back inside his jeans, he zipped them up before looking you over, “Funny that you think you’re worthy of Steve when you eagerly spread that pretty pussy for daddy, doll. The only thing that you’re worthy of is being daddy’s bred little bitch. Isn’t that right?” His words stung as you thought of Steve, who was so good to you. Tears threatened once more to spill.

“See you back at dinner, though you might want to clean up. It might be difficult to explain another man’s cum inside of you when you get back home, doll.”

That was all he said, and he left.

Suddenly ashamed, you looked at the toy in the bathroom sink covered in your arousal. A sob escaped you before you began to clean up. Meanwhile, Steve ran into Bucky on his way back to the table. Bucky stopped him, “Hey man, I’d give her a little bit. The food didn’t agree with her very well. She’s a bit of a mess.” Torn, Steve slowly nodded and walked back to the table with his friend. He knew you’d want privacy if you were sick.

By the time you got back to the table you immediately ordered a drink and downed it.

Fuck.

Steve rubbed your back affectionately before asking, “You okay?”

“Mhm, feel much better now, thank you for asking.”

Steve gave you a kiss on the cheek, leaving his hand on your back to trace the same path.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #steve rogers x you #dark!bucky x you #no y/n #winter soldier x you #bucky x reader

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buckyscombatboots · 1 year

Text

Monstertober Day 8

Careful what you wish for 🕯

Pairing: Incubus!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Initial Somnophilia, dub con, kind of rape, insults/degrading language, biting, scratching, marking, mentions of blood, womb tattoo/sigil, dumbification, aphrodisiac, vibrator, p in v, overstimulation, cunnilingus, demon summoning, beefy!bucky, condescending!Bucky, dark!bucky, praise, fluff

Nicknames: Angel, Doll, sweetness

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: I’m so sorry this is late, I was extremely busy on Halloween with teacher training and university work. But this concludes Monstertober, I have some exciting things planned for November.

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

Candles…You look around your floor surrounded by heaps of softly glowing candles, their flames waning and brightening again and again as the flame danced in the draft of your room. “Check.” you murmured, casting your eyes back to the grimoire’s aged pages; squinting in the darkness of your room trying to see the faded ink more clearly “stupidly complicated pentagram that took me multiple attempts and almost two hours to draw. Check.” You huffed glaring down at the pentagram drawn in white chalk on your floor, the edges smudged ever so slightly from where you’d repeatedly rubbed it away, only to redraw it wrong again. “An offering.” The book had not specified the offering that you had to provide for the demon, it simply said offering in intricate calligraphy “,how very helpful.” Grumbling you crouched to your knees, placing the grimoire down and scooping up your pile of “offerings” depositing them at random in a small circle inside your pentagram. Your offerings, if you could even call them that, consisted of a some loose change you’d found under and behind furniture, some candies you had lying around from halloween that the children hadn’t taken, a lock of your hair and a deeply personal item—which was the only clear instruction in the list, and you had chosen your trusty pink vibrator. Looking at the pink vibe on the floor made you want to crawl out of your skin in embarrassment, but it made the most sense since it was very deeply personal.

You picked the book back up and seated yourself in the centre of the summoning circle, you could feel your heart rate spike as you glanced down at the page for the summoning words. Your hands shook, palms growing cold and sweaty as you began “Heed my call, hear my cry may it lead you to me from your realm far away. I command you to my side so that we may make a contract.” You bite down on your finger drawing blood and swipe it across the floor “See me now and let me see you.” You blow out the candles around you and wait. You gulp as you sit cross legged in the dark, waiting. The sound of your breathing and your blood rushing makes the silence unbearable.

Nothing happens.

After sitting there for five minutes, you climb to your feet defeated. Tears on your waterline as you throw the book to the floor and flop into bed. You felt so stupid for even thinking that something like that would work, you feel the full weight of your adrenaline rush crashing to ground as curl under your covers rocking yourself to sleep s you mentally prepare for the rent payment tomorrow.

The blown out candles relight simultaneously as he steps out of the red swirling portal “You called?” He looked down expecting to see the person who summoned him, but he found the chalk pentagram staring back at him. He bends down, picking up the book you’d thrown harshly to the floor with a frown. He dusts off the grimoire, tracing the embossing in the leather cover with his blackened fingers, turning down the heat of his brimstone skin so the book doesn't burn. From the corner of his eye he catches your body shifting under the covers. He sets the grimoire gently on your chest of drawers and pads over to your bed “Wake up my little sleeping Angel.” He whispers in a gravelly tone, forming an ‘o’ with his reddened lips and blowing a stream of cold air against your ear lobe making you stir. He seats himself on the edge of your bed trailing his hand across your sleeping form “You’re wearing too much for my liking. Let me help you with that.” He threw the covers off of you and turned you more on to your back so he could peel your baggy shirt off, moving as quiet as a mouse. You were left only in a pair of panties, your comfortable pair that you wore when you knew no one would be seeing them, Bucky smiled at them thumbing the fabric adoringly. He ran his fingers across the middle of your panties till a soaking crease was visible. “Already so horny for me, naughty little human.” Bucky pulled down your panties, taking them into his hand to see the clear, sticky proof of your arousal. He tossed the panties already able to smell the thick scent of your arousal, he knew he had to taste you. He dipped his head down, running his tongue through your folds, groaning at the taste of you. He decided there and then he was going to claim you as his. He sucked on his fingers, getting them wet, before inserting them inside of you. Your walls drew him in, clamping so tightly around his fingers that he could barely move them. His hardened cock twitched as he imagined sliding into you, pounding you awake watching as your pleasured cries turned into pleas for him to stop. He had to stop a wicked grin from spreading across his lips. “You’ve been neglected for so long, Pet. Bucky’s gonna change that don’t you worry sweetheart. Who would neglect such a pretty pussy, so fucking tight.” His fingers start to glide through your spasming walls as they adjust to the thickness of his fingers. He targets the spongy spot inside you, debaucherous wet sounds filing the sleepy silence of your room. He paused as a soft mewl left your lips, your body shifting and your fisted hands tightening their hold on your pillow. He continued his ministrations even as your eyes fluttered open and you finally came to, your pleasured babbling pausing. You stared, horrified at the man sitting at the edge of your bed. Your eyes travelled up to the black horns on his head that looked like a ram's horns then down his red eyed that even in the darkness stuck out like a sore thumb, they shone like road studs in headlights stealing your attention before he opened his mouth displaying sharp, white teeth “Thanks for summoning me, Angel. I can see why you needed an incubus. You seem to be very pent up, but I can fix that for you.” His deep melodic voice made the initial stress you felt drift far away. You gaze drops downwards following the muscle of his neck down to the imposing bulk of his shoulders and arms, the rise and fall of his burly chest becoming hypnotising as his scent reaches your nostrils a mix of myrrh and musk that has your head swimming making you completely forget what he said. The feel of his rough palm cupping your cheek anchors you “I said, thank you for summoning me, Angel.”

“I didn’t summon an incubus. You- You have the wrong house.”

“No need to be coy. It’s fine to need a bit of help.”

“No, I genuinely didn’t summon an incubus. I wanted to Summon a demon that could help me. I'm working two jobs, I’m exhausted, the cost of everything is rising and I just can’t anymore. I'm running myself into the ground. I must have summoned the wrong type of demon.”

“Ah, that's Ari’s department. I’d contact him, but he’s a bit busy with a few cultists. So I guess you’re stuck with me for the time being, but I can help you in a different way, Doll.” His other hand reaches to the side of him and heat floods your cheeks as your eyes lock on the pink vibrator he has between his fingers. He pops it into his mouth like a hard candy and sucks it a little before spitting it back into his palm, pressing the button to turn it on “Nice and ready for you.” He chides, slipping his fingers out of your tight heat replacing the emptiness with the warmed, whirling vibrator. You feel your stomach constrict in pleasure as he guides the pink bullet in further with his fingers, positioning it right against your sweet spot. Shooting you a knowing smile as you sob your walls fluttering around his fingers as you convulse “Such a good girl for me, coming all over my fingers.” Bucky coos taking the vibe out from inside you bringing it to the head of his weeping cock moaning as he rubs it against his precum leaking slit, pumping his length with his other ashen hand “Time for you to take me sweetness.” You try to scramble away from him but he was much quicker than you, sensing your fear before it had even registered inside your brain. His warm rough palm seized your thigh pulling you back in position.

“It won’t fit! You’re going to tear me in two. Please can you just forget I summoned you.”

“Oh, Doll, that’s not how this works. You summoned me, I have duties to fulfill and in exchange for said duties I get your soul. I’m not leaving, this will not be forgotten. Regardless, you need to breathe; I’m not going to ‘tear you in two’ that sigil on your womb will make sure of it and make it pleasurable whilst I do. So calm down for me, I don’t like it when humans make my job more difficult than it has to be so behave and you’ll be rewarded.” His threats wrapped up in a sweet tone making it seem as if he wasn’t patronising you. Despite this you began to calm down, wrapping your legs around his hips and controlling your breathing. Your eyes drifted down his muscular torso, focusing on the intricate tattoo like patterns on his skin to relax your mind. The tattoos brought you down to the deep ‘v’ line of his pelvis and back to his veiny member which he was prodding to your entrance. You were pulled out of the trace-like state that his prominent veins had put you in, as he bottomed out in you until your walls were stretched taut around his meaty shaft. He stays still until the burn subsides, watching as your eyes gain a hazy, spaced out glaze and your mouth drops open in an inaudible moan. He pulls out and thrusts so hard into you that your bed scoots under the force, the sound of skin slapping skin echos through your small room as Bucky snaps his hips into you pushing himself deeper and deeper each time, his movements are slow yet rough making you feel every inch of him as he fucks into your tight heat. A surge of heat spread all the way from your hips to the sole of your feet and the tips of your fingers, you felt almost drunk on pleasure, every single thrust of his hips renewing the heat. Your whole body tingles as he presses the vibrator to your clit “God!” You scream as your legs wrapped around his waist begin to shake.

“Oh no sweet little Angel, God isn’t here. In this room, right now, I am your God. You worship me. I give you pleasure.” He purrs, swirling the vibe on your pulsing pearl as he angles the tip of his cock to hit your sweet spot over an over, drawing the orgasm building inside of you to the surface making you cum with a whimpering cry.

The sound of your blood rushing in your ears filled your senses as you came down from your high, even as you came back to your senses you felt much more distanced from reality; your body felt as if it was submerged in a warm bath, and slowly but surely you were sinking below the water. Your break was cut short by Bucky continuing his thrusts, his hand pressing the vibrator to your now throbbing clit didn’t budge—he instead pushed down more harshly on your clit making your legs quake uncontrollably “Hnng! Please!” Was all you could force out before your tongue became useless, lolling out of your mouth. You came again with a shout, clawing Bucky’s back with your nails as you threw your head back into the pillow, your back arching even further into the air. You came so hard you forgot how to breathe, a heavy weight crushing your chest, as you slumped back into the mattress trying your hardest to breathe Bucky finally removed the vibe from your raw little nub. His palm flattened against your stomach where the sigil was placed rubbing a slow circle that set your nerves on fire, before he brought his hand up to the bulge in your stomach and pressed harshly with his thumb tearing a whimper from your throat.

“Fuck you can see me inside of you, Angel. I’m all up in your guts rearranging them. Turning you into the perfect little cock sleeve, gonna make sure I ruin you for any other man. Oh wait, you won't be taking any other man after me. Because; You. Belong. To. Me.” Her punctuated every word with a rough thrust, bashing your cervix which would usually hurt but whatever he did gave you a supreme, otherworldly amount of pleasure “the sigil is almost full, one more orgasm and my seed should be enough to fill it. Do you think you can take it?” He questions a small smile gracing his lips as he awaits your answer, but all you can do is mumble “So fucked out that you can’t even form a sentence, your heads probably so empty right now, my little fuck doll. It’s okay, you don’t need to think, Angel, let me do that for you; can’t expect a dumb little human like you who can’t even read the pages of a very clear, simple book correctly.” His hand slithers up your body towards your neck, wrapping around your throat before he starts to apply pressure—observing as your body begins to melt into the mattress. His thrusts continued and paired with the lack of oxygen bright flashes of white flicker across your vision. All your nerves began to thrum as you felt another orgasm coming, your wall clamped around him as you got closer to the edge. You could feel his cock twitching inside you, he released your neck allowing air to flow back into your lungs as he dipped his head down to your shoulder inking his teeth into your skin. The overwhelming sensations of lightheadedness, pleasure and pain threw your senses into orbit as you came your pussy squeezing his cock as you raked your nails across his back hard enough to draw blood. Bucky gave a few more weak, uncoordinated thrusts before he painted your insides with a wanton moan gripping the pillow hard enough for it to tear. You could barely comprehend your surroundings, you felt as if you were made of air and if Bucky let go of you you’d dissipate. Your heart hammered against your rib cage, as you stared up at Bucky’s handsome face; his sweat darkened hair glued to his forehead. He let out a chuckle, his hand caressing the sigil at your womb “Happy Halloween, Angel. This is the last one you’ll ever have to spend alone. The contract has been made and now, you belong to me. Forever.”

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 2 years

Text

PLAYING DANGEROUS- J.B BARNES

Pairing: Dark! Cop! Bucky x Dark! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: after finding out your husband has been cheating on you with dozens, you do the only logical thing. burn the house down with him trapped in it. when telling the police about your little fake sob story, one officer sees right through you- and needs payment to keep his mouth shut.

WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS DARKER CONTENT SUCH AS MURDER, AARSON, MANIPULATION ETC. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Warnings: SMUT, praise kink, degradation kink, dumbfication kink, manipluation, daddy kink, bondage, size kink, slight breeding kink, murder, aarson, drugs, cheating, petnames, swearing, small mention of violence, hair pulling, over stim

“everybody knows i'm a good girl, officer no, i wouldn't do a thing like that, that's for sure the house was already on fire, i swear i'm not a liar”- playing dangerous, lana del rey (unreleased)

Notes: im re-uploading this because im proud of it and im manifesting it does well and that you all enjoy it! xoxo claire

His screams were sudden over the roar of the creeping flames.

They were loud, hollow and frantic as the smell of burning fabric alerted him from a deep sleep. It wasn't the fire alarms. You had made sure beforehand that they wouldn't go off, made sure the piercing, shrieking pounds stayed mute.

Now all you could smell was burning flesh.

Its charred, meaty smelt stank of beef in a frying pan. The glimpse of his skin, crimson and black as it flaked off made you smile as you turned on your heel.

The image of his t-shirt, the one you hated more than anything because it stank of her, now dripped like candlewax off his skin.

Good.

Let it stain him.

Let him be branded on his very flesh as he died, so in the afterlife, he would be reminded of her. So that he could think of each whore he had fucked, had used for his pleasure behind your back as you worked for him.

Tried to make him happy.

You were done with that now, had decided you were done with him the minute you had poured the gasoline over the drapes and across the bedsheets.

The very match you had lit to determine his fate was used to light the smoke propped between your lips, the cigarette smoke that trickled in your lungs sweet with the taste of revenge. His screams had followed you down the hall, out the door and into the yard as you watched the smoke rise from the cracked windows, out into the starry sky above.

It was satisfying. It felt good.

So good, you couldn't help but laugh as you watched all the memories of your past relationship go up in flames, the hot reds and oranges illuminating a fire within your own soul.

A passion, that hadn't been there before, a hint of a spark that he had dulled.

It wouldn't be long now before the entire house was ablaze, the neighbors too far away and hidden from groves of thick trees and bushes to see the colorful inferno happening before you.

Of course, you had to do everything yourself. That part- hadn't changed.

Taking a deep breath in through your nose, you sighed as you pulled out your phone from your jacket pocket, You had snatched it before you had set the house aflame, a plan already in motion for what you'd tell the cops.

It was no challenge turning on the false worry and anxiety with each octave in your voice, the practice coming naturally to you throughout the years. You had used it to try and get Donavin to see you.

To listen to you, to hear you out whenever you would raise your voice to voice a small opinion. He had brushed you off with the wave of his hand, or a smack across the cheek- the rings he wore still etched in your cheeks.

He would listen now. He had no choice.

Dialing 911, you waited for the receiver to pick up, tears already activated and streaming down your cheeks as you shakily held the phone. “911, what is your emergency?” the monotone voice sounded from the other side of the phone, following the script they had been trained to say.

Just like how you were trained by Donavin.

“My house, it's on fire! My husband is trapped inside and I can't get him out- I can’t- I can’t-” you sobbed, clutching your chest, tears blurring your vision as the flames grew larger, the snapping of wood and embers a soft melody in the background.

“Okay, okay ma’am calm down. Where are you located? We’re sending a team right now to help you.”

And that was that, you smiled to yourself, listening to the operator instruct you on every little thing to keep you calm, trying to distract you with questions.

As if you cared. As if you were worried about that hunk of shit who was getting roasted like a turkey on Thanksgiving.

The sound of sirens were still far down in the distance, the wails echoing through the forest as they neared.

It was all going according to plan, you thought with a smile, a middle finger lifted up to the remains of the house before you.

You didn't miss him. Not one bit.

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“It was all supposed to go to plan! I miss him so much already…” you wailed, clutching your chest as you fell against the cop car, struggling to breathe. They didnt know it was from the smoke intake, not from the shock of your husband dying.

The less they knew- the better.

“I went out to the store to pick up some chocolates for him, wanting to surprise him after work, and when I came home-” your voice broke, another wail escaping from your lips as you sobbed, a group of officers attempting to calm you as the fake tears fell.

“We were supposed to have a nice night together! He was supposed to get my gifts. And now.. and now-”

“There, there dear.” an officer shushed, a hand placed on your shoulder as he slowly guided you away from the flashing lights and the frantic noises.

If this was his attempt at comforting, he was borderline shit at it. He was lucky you didnt actually miss your husband, because holy fuck.

“I’ll take you to the chief and you can tell him exactly what happened okay? He’s right over here.” he said cautiously, as if you were a frightened animal he didn’t know how to approach.

Part of you didn't blame him for being so close guarded. You wouldn't know how to console someone ether if their husband died in a fire. There wasn't really a handbook, a guide for dummies if you will on the subject matter.

You expected the chief wouldn't show much sympathy, a quick ‘sorry ma’am’ and a sad nod, sending you off on your way. You were hoping- praying you could get away from the bustles of people.

They never seemed to end. Who knew a fire took so many god damn people to put out?

The sounds of the water streaming from the hose made you jump, your head craned over your shoulder to attempt to see where the firemen had started to sizzle out the flames from the officer's grip.

It tightened, guiding you onwards towards the back of the mob, the sounds of walkie-talkies buzzing and voices all going dull in your mind, like radio static.

It was a game you liked to play with yourself, when things became too much. Tune out each station, flicker the dial until you could focus in on one conversation.

You often did it when Donvian would talk, his grating voice making you focus on anything else but him. The birds chirping. The cars honking. The sounds of the dozens of women he had invited over for ‘business meetings’, their high-pitched, fake and scratchy voices better than his own.

It was all slowly muffling now as you made your way over to the tall, bulky shadow that stretched out before you, the man's back turned. His voice was low and deep, filled to the brim with authority. Power that you couldn't shake, the monotones of his voice seeming to stain your very soul.

“Chief, this is Mrs- sorry Ms. Y/LN.” the officer whose grip seemed like claws digging into your skin noted, handing you off as if you were a child going to daycare for the day while he spent the next few hours drinking stale coffee and complaining about his job before he came to pick you up.

You were thankful to be free of his grip, but when the man turned, its as if that grip was suctioned back to you. Tendons clawing at your throat, stealing the air from your lungs.

He was beautiful. Breath-takingly beautiful.

The blues and reds of the lights shown against his tan skin, reflecting the highlights in his dark, slightly messy hair, and the stubble that followed along his sharp jawline. His lips were full and soft, cheeks slightly rosy as he surveyed you from where he towered over you.

His eyes. Oh god, they pierced you. Could see right through your very lies, your actions and desires.

It was right then and there the memory of your mother played through your head like a film reel, the edges warped and fading. Beautiful men are dangerous, Y/N. They can make you think anything they want you to- because of that. It's a cruel game they play. She had said, sitting in that worn armchair she loved so much, the stitching tattered and fraying as she’d prop a smoke between her lips.

She was a cruel woman herself, cold to the touch and distanced. But she was wise. Any wisdom she had gifted you before her passing had been thrown out the window now as you looked at his man, entranced by him.

You wanted to play his game. Even if it was cruel.

“Thank you Officer.” he said sternly, coldness laced in his voice like brandy as he turned to you. You swallowed, unsure of how to approach him. You tended to be cautious when it came to men, never knowing how to react.

They were all so different to read, each of their book spines cracked in unique ways.

You had an act to perform. You were the submissive wife, the tormented and heartbroken, as delicate as a piece of shattered glass. He was hard to read, but not impossible. He liked control, and he liked power. He liked that he had that, and that he had gained it by respect. This man was at a point in his life where he could say anything to anyone, and they'd listen.

So you would too, to understand him better.

“Sir?” you whispered, voice breaking as you willed the tears to stream down your cheeks again. He just looked at you, eyes sparkling with undeniable hunger.

“I’m not going to bother asking if you're okay.” was all he said, handcuffs jangling from his belt as he shifted, propping the car door open. “Why not?” you asked, genuinely intrigued.

It seemed like something everyone asked. Something everyone had to ask despite whatever had happened, whether that be a minute ago, or a second.

So why wasn't he?

“Because I already know the answer to that question. Would you like me to ask it anyways?” You shook your head, cat seeming to grab at your tongue. He had a fire in him, just like the one ablaze behind you.

“Alright then. Get in the car dolly. We’re going for a ride.” he nodded, shooing you towards the car. “In the front?”

“Do I have a reason to put you in the back?”

Yes. Yes you do, but I don't fuckin regret it one bit.

“Of course not Shierf.” you murmured anxiously, unsure of where this was going. You decided to play the game. Stick with it.

The door slammed shut behind you as you slid onto the worn leather seat, your foot tapping against the car mat as his whistle sounded from the other side of the car.

“Where are we going?” you asked as the key was placed in the ignition, the car revving to life as the doors locked. You were trapped. “For a drive.” was all he said, voice low and husky.

You didnt even know this man's name, yet you were forced into a car against our will with him. It seemed formal introductions didnt apply to this man after all.

He was an officer of the law. He had sworn an oath. Surely he was fine.

The wheels rolled slowly, gravel crunching under the tires as he made his way around the dozens of vehicles and people mingling around the skeletons of your house. The keys jangling as the car bounced through potholes was the only noise you could focus on, yur breathing too uneven to try and listen to it to stay calm.

You needed a pattern. Something you could repeat, over and over again. Or a distraction, from whatever thoughts were brewing in the cauldron of your brain.

“You know my name. What's yours?” you asked timidly, glancing over at his hands gripping the steering wheel as you picked up speed down the highway, gravel roads now long behind you. “Bucky.” he nodded curtly, eyes glancing up to peer in the rearview.

“Okay, Bucky- sir. What are we doing?”

“Going for a drive.” he noted again, eyebrow raised as he looked over at you, mouth drawn into a flat line. Smart ass. “What are we doing, after this drive I mean? Surely we cant drive forever.”

His foot pressed down on the gas even harder, the numbers increasing at an alarming rate. You were going much faster than the bent and twisted signs that scattered beside the road. “We’re going to the station, and you're going to be a good girl and answer some questions for me.”

Your eyes widened, hands beginning to fidget nervously with the lace of your little white dress. You weren't really nervous about the questioning, as you had rehearsed the lines in your head after you had dialed for the cops.

But of course, you had to pretend. Maybe he’d go easier on you, a frightened little widow who was sleep deprived and in shock. Bucky sensed this, feeling your anxiety muster as he looked over at you quickly before flickering his eyes back out onto the empty road.

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay? You're safe. You just need to answer a few questions, and then we can find someplace do you to stay at.” he murmured softly, his demeanor changing suddenly.

You swallowed, nodding as you cast your view out the window. The little town appeared small as you neared it, but it grew larger rather quickly as you flew down the old, winding road.

Something about Bucky made you anxious. He wouldn't hurt you. But you felt... intimidated by him. Something you had felt about many men before- like Donvian.

You would simply take care of this issue, brush off the chip on your shoulder and watch the pieces crumble to the ground.

But with Bucky, it was different.

There was something about him you couldn't quite hake, a chip suddenly becoming a gaping hole the longer you studied him. It was almost as if you wanted to be intimidated by him. You wanted him to have this unspoken sense of control, to be able to tug on the leash as he so chose. You wanted to trust him with control.

Stupid, stupid girl. Your mother's voice rang through your ears, ringing louder and louder as you slowed to a halt as the light turned red.

The town was asleep for the night, the blinds drawn shut on businesses, doors locked and the sidewalks empty. The wind seemed to howl through the streets, a shiver racking up your spine despite the windows being rolled up. A dim, green light reflected onto Bucky's face as he drove towards the corner, where the station remained.

It was a very small town, so it was expected that he would be one of the only officers in the station. Especially with the little show you had thrown together tonight. You were anxious to be alone with Bucky for such a long period of time, but excited too.

A thought then occurred to you, hating you in your tracks as you went to unbuckle your seatbelt as he placed the cruiser in park.

“I don't have a place to stay at. My mother died seven years ago, and my fathers abandoned me. The only place I have is a pile of ash and charred wood.” you whispered, not thinking that part through.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck.

“Yes you do.” he looked at you with sincerity in his eyes, a hint of reassurance. “You always have a place to stay dollface.”

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“Do you really have to put those tight handcuffs on?” you pouted, wincing as he fastened them to your wrists, the metal chain clanging against the table. It was empty as he guided you through the halls to the integration room, the sounds of his boots scruffing the tile echoing off the walls.

The lights were bright, the fluoresces making you squint as he flicked them off as you sat in the cold, metal chair. “It's protocol with everyone. It's just until the questions are over and done with.”

He didn't need to handcuff you. He wanted you bound and helpless.

“Fine. So tell me…do you always work alone so late?” you teased, drumming your nails against the table, the tension thick in the air as it choked you.

You’d get yourself out of this mess. You always did with men.

“I’m questioning you sweetheart. Don't get any ideas.” he raised an eyebrow, pulling up a chair to sit across from you. It was romantic in a way, you thought- the way he was looking at you with such longing. You felt like there should be candles lit, platters filled with food and goblets filled with wine with how the two of you were eyeing each other.

“Ask away then sir. You can ask me anything you want.” you smirked, running the script over and over again in your mind as he leaned back in his chair.

“Can you give me a run down, in your own words as to what happened tonight, Ms. Y/L/N?.”

Fine. Straight to the point.

“I was at home, waiting for Donvian to come home from work. I then had this wonderful idea to run to the store, Macks General, to pick him up some gifts, to surprise him. At 9:11pm, if you must know. I came back and..” you trailed off, picking at your cuticles as you cast your gaze downwards.

“I see. And what gifts did you get him?” he asked, pulling out a pad from his pocket, scribbling down the lies you were spitting at him. “His favorite bottle of scotch and a box of chocolates.” you replied sternly, not liking where this was going.

“Tell me, Ms. Y/L/N, why was Donvian coming home so late? He works at the law office in town, correct? They close at seven pm.” he stated, twirling his pen around those beautiful, calloused fingers of his, hypnotizing you.

He was fucking some other whore. Some stank, his secretary- in his office, probably telling her she was beautiful and worthy of his love.

“He had some extra paperwork for one of his clients he ahd to work on. Confidential.” you smiled. “Of course. Sweetheart, was Donvian cheating on you?”

The question struck you like an electric shock, your muscles tensing as you tried to hide the alarm on your face. “What makes you think that?” you snarled, growing more defensive by the minute, your chains clanging against the table.

“I’m simply putting the pieces together as I see them sweetheart. So tell me, was he? There's no point lying to me.”

He was right. He had that part figured out. Maybe if you told him the truth, he’d pity you, and go easier on you than he was right now. You sighed in defeat, wanting nothing more than to curl up into a ball and sleep.

“Yes.”

“Oh you poor thing.” he cooed, pity etched in his face, his eyes dripping with sympathy. You could tell if it was real, or a means to get you to confess.

“If you think for one second that would lead me to burning my own house to the ground, with a human being inside of it- you're wrong. I can get revenge in other ways.” you growled, struggling against the handcuffs, biting your lip as they dug into your skin, rubbing the flesh.

Bucky just smirked, tapping his pen in reputation. As if this were fun for him.

“Everybody knows that I’m a good girl officer. The house was already on fire- I swear I’m not a liar.”

“Are you sure about that angel?” he asked, chair squeaking against the linoleum as you gulped. “Because I already called Macks, asking for a description. You matched it perfectly, buying gasoline and a pack of cigarettes. So tell me angel, are you such a good girl?”

Your heartbeat raced as he stood up suddenly, chair scraping enough the floor, making you flinch as his large hands banged down on the metal. “Yes. I’m a good girl.” you whimpered, not able to meet his eyes as he made his way over to you, his stance predatory as he came up behind you.

“You wanna know what I think?” he asked mockingly, voice pricking into your skull like needles.

Don't answer. Do not reply Y/N.

A sharp tug to your hair made you wince, neck snapping back to meet his glare, dark blue eyes peering at your soul as you felt a growl rise in your throat. “Do you?”

“Yes.” you snarled, knowing you'd have no choice but to hear his little sprawl. He could think whatever he wanted to think- you wouldn't confess.

“I think your husband was sleeping around, and you got upset. As you should. But instead of doing the mature thing and divorcing him- you decided to burn the house down, with him in it. Did I get it right sweetheart?”

Another tug burned your scalp and you growled, slamming your hands down on the table. “No. Fuck. You.” A deep chuckle rumbled from behind you, and you wanted nothing more than to claw at the man.

He was finding humor out of all of this.

“Oh she uses her big girl word huh? Well before you go on your plea about how I’m a lying, sick fuck sweetheart, let me tell you what I know.”

“Nothing. You know nothing.” you hissed, pulse racing as you felt your panties dampen the harder he tugged at your hair, the closer he moved to your skin. His breath was hot on your skin as he crouched down, whispering in your ear.

“ I know that there's no one here right now. It's just the two of us. And I know that the rougher I am, the wetter you get.” You clenched your thighs together, foot bouncing eagerly as his hand caressed your neck, teasing you.

He sniffed the air, a grin plastered on his face as you whimpered. “I can smell you, you dirty, dirty girl. You like this- don't you?”

“Questioning is over now officer.” you stated, yanking your hands against the cuffs, the chain jangling as you attempted to break free. Of course, there was no use. You were trapped here until he let you go, and that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Didn't stop you from trying anyways, as you were able to break free of Donvian restraints he had bound to you for so many years.

” Questioning is over when I say it’s over, dolly. I wouldn't want to let the word slip a poor, innocent little wife brutally murdered her husband- would I?” he mocked, forcing your head down on the table, your hand helplessly splayed out at your sides per his strength.

Your legs wobbled as he stole the chair from under you, tossing it in a corner, clattering to the ground as you winced.

“Please.” was all you could murmur, the fight slowly draining out of you.

You wanted this. You wanted this man to fuck you so hard you couldn't walk. But you knew the second he entered you, you'd do whatever he'd say. You'd tell him whatever he wanted to hear.

You were trapped in his game, and had fallen directly into his lap. It was the dangerous thing about beautiful men. Suddenly, you wish you had listened to your mothers warning.

“Please what dolly? Please don't say anything? Or please fuck that pretty little pussy of yours?” he drawled, country accent thick as he flipped up your dress, the cool air hitting your soaked panties making you shiver in delight. “Both.”

“Both? Greedy girl eh? How bout this-” he leaned in close, hand slipping down to brush against the soft skin f your inner thighs. “I’ll keep my lips zipped, if you let me do whatever I want to you. You’re mine.” he whispered, pinching your skin between his fingers, making you squeak out.

“Yes. Whatever you want sir.” You had signed a deal with the devil with a pen and quill right then in there.

But what option did you really have? He had the upper hand.

You could feel his sly grin piercing through your soul, your nipples hardening and poking from the thin fabric as you squirmed in place, the restraints holding you to his every touch.

Making you stay there and take it.

It didn't help his much larger, beefy body was changing you in. “Oh sweetheart, it's just so hard isn't it? So hard trying to fight those thoughts screaming at you that this is wrong, and that this is bad for you?” he tsked, a thumb stroking your shoulder blade in a soothing motion as his other hand tugged your flimsy panties down.

“I know sweet girl. But you dont need to think, okay? You aren't in control here. Let daddy do the thinking, little one. Just take what I give you.” he hummed softly, the sound of his belt jangling making your heart race with excitement.

“I’m sorry. I didnt mean to, he just made me so mad-” you cried, your tears falling before you could stop them, the facade cracking at the seams the more he touched you. “He didnt deserve a sweet lil thing like you. You're such a good girl, aren't you?”

You nodded, words trapped in your throat as Bucky slipped two fingers down to your cunt, smearing your slick on his fingers, popping them in his mouth with a moan.

So sweet. Such a sweet thing. His words set you on fire, as if you were the one trapped in that house. As if you were the one whole limbs were set aflame, scorching and burning recking of tar.

There was next to no warning before he slipped into you, hand parting your legs ever so slightly, a sweet coo and a kiss placed to the exposed skin on your shoulder. “OH GOD-” you cried, the stretch burning as he slowly pushed into your entrance, an intruder.

“Such a big stretch aint it doll face? So pretty n tight for me.” he growled, the handcuffs rubbing and digging into your skin as you struggled to reach for him, to grip onto anything to steady yourself.

It hurt. He hurt.

Bucky was like a cigarette. Something you knew that was wrong for you, something that eventually kill you someday, taking its sweet time as it seemed into every pore- draining you of life.

But it felt so good. So, so very fucking good.

You were hugging him, gripping him as he fully entered you, making you mewl like a kitten. “Did he ever fuck you like this?” he asked softly, a sense of sudden compassion and urgency entering his voice as he took in your disheveled state, sliding out of you, your slick coating his dick making him groan.

‘He rarely fucked me.” you confessed softly, body jolting as he thrust back into you with such force you felt the air sucked dry from your lungs. “Yea? He didnt fucking deserve a pretty slut like you. Explains this tight cunt though.” he snarled, the sound of his balls slapping through the air as they pounded against your ass, sounding with your moans and whimpers.

“Please- don’t-tell-” you gasped, feeling his cunt brush your g-spot, eyes mindlessly rolling back in pleasure as he chuckled darkly. “You want me to keep my mouth shut hm honey? How far will you go so I don’t let it slip up?”

“Anything!” you whined, knowing you were mindlessly falling for his spell with each snap of his hips. Bucky’s hands had tightened on your hips, gripping you through the soft, lacey fabric, your slick smearing and running down your inner thighs as you drooled.

“Look at you doing big girl things. First, you burn your husband, now this? So much in one night for your little brain eh?”

Yes. Yes it's too much.

From the rough pounding your cunt was receiving to the feeling of the shackles digging into your flesh, you feared you'd overflow. It was an addiction. An adrenaline rush you could shake, creeping up on you faster and faster the heavier your breathing got, the low tide in your lower core becoming a tsunami as you clenched around him madly.

No words could be uttered as you came with a high-pitched cry, fingernails scratching against the metal. “Look atchu, just creamin on my cock.” he cooed, yanking on your hair to snap your head back, the action alone making you bare your teeth, your fierce spark catching lame once more as you stared at him.

“M’not on any pills.” you mumbled incoherently. “Well ain't that a drag?” he teased, hips sputtering as he came inside you with a grunt, head thrown back in pleasure as he moaned your name.

“Not inside. Can’t- can’t inside.”

“Too bad.” he whispered mockingly, and you winced as you felt the warm, oozing liquid seep out of your abused hole s he pulled out gently. “Bucky- we can't-”

“You dont have the upper hand in this doll. You said anything, don’t you remember?”

You were done for. Done.

“You won't tell, right?” you asked nervously, a small yelp escaping you as he snapped the elastic band back up over your hips, his cum sticking to your puffy, swollen cunt.

“My lips are sealed honey.” he smiled, hand spanking your ass playfully as he zipped his pants back up quickly, as if nothing had happened.

As if he hadn't just rearranged your guts had made you a drooling, cockdrunk mess on his dick.

You lifted your wrists hopefully, praying he’d unlock the cuffs and free you. He clucked his tongue, shaking his head with a smile.

If you can't stand the heat, then get out of the fire- you might get what you desire.

You had gotten yourself into this mess. You had been played by another man. But this time, you weren't sure if you were so against it. You watched with curiosity as he pulled out his phone, punching in a number and bringing it to his ear to prevent you from hearing the voice on the other end.

You knew better than to ask questions.

“Rogers? Yeah I got her here with me. She's bound.” A murmur voiced from the other side, something the mystery man said making Bucky chuckle, voice low and deep.

“Yeah she's trouble.” He tilted his head, winking at you. It was confusing, the way he treated you. Like an angel one second, like a devil the next.

You just prayed he was feeling angelic after that little fiasco the two of you had gotten into a few minutes prior.

“We’re going to need backup. Call Murdock.”

You gulped. Oh god.

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thesexydevils · 1 year

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The Psychologist

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only.

I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted anywhere even if you give credit. But please re-blog and comment. Thank you!

Pairing: Criminal/Mafia Bucky x female reader

Summary: You, a young criminal psychologist, takes up a task with the government to study and make reports on the worst criminals in NY. One of them is James Buchanan Barnes.

Warnings: 18+ only, Dark fic, Noncon, breeding, blood, violence, force. GIF is not mine!

“Hello Dr. L/N, I got the call just an hour ago. Are you sure you want to do that?” You were sitting in front of him in your black dress pants and a beige sweater.

“Director, I can see you are not a fan of this but it is my job to study and understand humans like them.” His humorless laugh interrupted you and then he looked dead into your eyes. “Humans? This place is not made for humans. This prison is for those who are the scums of the society. Even animals are better than the monsters we cage here.”

You looked out of the window, the sky was gray with dark clouds. It was pouring outside and the gloomy weather made you low spirited. You took a deep breath and looked back at the man sitting behind the beg desk.

“Director Foster, I understand your hatred and disgust for the prisoners or as you said monsters, but right now you are stopping me from doing my job. I am here, because the Governor has appointed me to make a thorough report on the most dangerous criminals. This report is not only to see how dangerous they are, but also to see how and why they become like this.”

You took out the official letter out of your bag and handed it over to him. “I know you are worried that he will put them in a normal prison or pardon some of the crimes, but I assure you that this will never happen. Our goal is only to prevent others from becoming monsters.”

Director Foster leaned back in his chair and thought for a minute. “Fine Dr. L/N, but realize that you are putting yourself in danger. These are not just some thieves or drug dealers, most of them are criminal masterminds. Some of them will study you as you will them and play mind games.”

You nodded and told him that you will keep that in mind. As the door opened you picked your bag and stood up. A guard stepped in to take you to the first inmate, but before you left the office you heard the Director again.

“ Doctor, 2 guards will wait outside the room when you are alone with the prisoners and their hands and feet will be cuffed to the chairs. But still don't go near them.”

“I understand Director. Thank you.”

On the way to the room you talked with the guard. Apparently not many guards lasted longer than 3 years. The longest one worked 8 years but last year he had a breakdown and never came back on duty.

According to the young officer, he was a tough man with a military background, but one of the inmates got under his skin and made him lose his mind.

“Officer Peterson, can you get the inmates file and then get him too?” The Officer stilled for a moment, it took a few seconds for him to react. He turned around and looked a bit uneasy about your request. “ Are you sure Doctor? Maybe you should start with someone else?”

“Officer, I am sure, please bring him first.” He nodded and left without a word. You looked around the room, it looked like an interrogation room. With 2 chairs and a small table in between. You sat down behind the table and read through the file.

Name: James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky

Born: 10. March 1984 in Brooklyn, NY

Criminal charges: 42 murders (31 first degree, 9 second degree), smuggling of weapons, drugs and humans, kidnapping, rape,...

Before you could read more the door opened, Officer Peterson entered the room. 2 other Officers were holding the tall man you were just reading about. He was roughly pushed down on the chair and the chains around his body were tightened and secured on the chair.

You thanked the Officers as they left the room and Peterson took his place outside beside the door.

You looked back at the man sitting in front of you, when he jerked his head and his long dark brown hair flipped to the sides. This was the first time you saw his face, he had a short untamed beard.

He was gorgeous, but him being a criminal left a bitter taste in your mouth, so you pushed all other thoughts out of your mind.

“James Buchanan Barnes, I am Dr. Y/N L/N. I am a criminal psychologist, my job is to understand the motivations of criminals, clinical evaluation of a defendant and criminal profiling. I work with the FBI and sometimes with the police too. You are one of the few people I will be profiling and making some reports.”

Your eyes met his, a cold feeling went down your spine. It was like his cold and dark eyes could see directly into your soul. But you still held eye contact with him, even knowing he was making a profile of you like you were making his.

You asked him questions about his childhood and parents, but he just sat there without answering any of it. After 40 minutes of trying to get him to speak up about his childhood, you stopped. The whole time he didn’t move, never said a word or looked away from you.

“Mr. Barnes, I will be back in 3-4 days and hopefully you will be more cooperative.” You called Officer Peterson in the room and in a few minutes he and 2 other Officers were untying him. As the three were about to leave the room you said to him. “Goodbye Mr. Barnes.”

“Bucky!” You looked shocked at him, this was the first time you heard him speak. He only smirked at your reaction. The Officers pulled him out and closed the door, leaving you with Officer Peterson.

“That was weird, no one calls him Bucky here. All the other prisoners call him Barnes. Doctor, you should be careful around him. Barnes likes to play mind games.”

You nodded and sat down again. The officers brought another prisoner, but Barnes was the one you kept thinking of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Exactly on the third day you were back and entered the room when James Barnes was already on the chair and secured. You greeted the officers and took your seat behind the desk.

Like the last time his eyes were staring only at you. You took out your notepad and started talking. “ Mr. Barnes I hope today you will be more talkative than the last time. Can we talk today about your childhood?”

You heard him chuckle lightly. “Bucky, call me Bucky doll. Why should I tell you anything about me? Don’t you think I should get something out of it too?”

I saw the slight smirk on his face. “Mr. Barnes if you have forgotten then let me remind you that I am only a psychologist. I don’t have the authority to make any kind of deals or promises.”

He moved his head to the side and looked directly into my eyes. “Don’t worry doll, it is something you can do to make this fun for both of us. For the last time, call me Bucky or this conversation is over.”

The way he said the word fun, made your heart skip a beat. Not because you found it pleasant, but because it sounded more like a threat to you.

“Okay tell me Mr. Bar... I mean Bucky.” His tongue moved over his lower lip and he bit on it. “See it wasn’t that hard. I want to play a game. A game that wouldn’t be hard for you to play. The game is 20 Questions.” That took you by surprise and seeing his reaction, you could tell he was enjoying the expressions on your face.

“What the ...? Why this game? We are not teenagers or on a date.” He laughed, like a real genuine laugh. “Come on doll, it is not everyday that a beautiful woman comes in here to spend some time with someone like me. Just humor me a bit and I promise to behave and not ask any dirty questions.”

Bucky winked at you and you could only roll your eyes at him. His behavior shocked you. It was like day and night. You had to be careful around him and not share much information about you or your personal life.

“Okay fine, tell me about your family.?” “I had a normal family. My mother was a faithful christian and my father was a hardworking man in Brooklyn and then there was my older brother Nick. Joined the military and a few years later died in Afghanistan.”

You were about to apologize but were interrupted by him. “What is your favorite color?”

“Really? Purple. Okay what was the turning point in your life?”

“If you believe that something really bad happened that made me like this, then no, there was not a turning point in my life. Why did you become a criminal psychologist”

You took a minute to answer this question. “My sister was killed. Why did you become a criminal?”

“I am sorry about your sister.” Your vision narrowed at him and you could help but to scoff at his heartless apology. “No, you don’t. You felt nothing at all.” “ Well doll, that's what normal people say, don’t they?”

You snorted derisively at him. “Normal people? Bucky, you are far from normal people. Just answer my question.”

“Don’t be so cold, doll. It does not suit you and I wasn’t making fun of you.” His cold eyes turned mischief and he shifted his head to the side. “I always felt peaceful when I could bend people or situations to my will and to do this you need power. And power comes from money, the money that you can’t get by working a 9-5 job.”

“So you kill for money and what about the women you raped? They didn’t deserve that, no one does.”

His laugh was cold and humorless. “Doll, it’s my turn. Play fair and don’t be naughty. Why was your sister killed?”

Fury flooded you, as the dark thoughts came back. The room turned quiet, but your heart beat throbbed in your ears. You felt like the time had slowed and the clock on the wall was ticking louder. One minute turned into two and then into five, but he did not say anything or asked again.

A loud knock on the door told you that the time was over and you felt relieved knowing that now you could breathe normally again.

The officers entered the room, but Bucky kept staring at you without saying anything at all. He was pulled by two officers but before they left called you. “Doll, we will continue this in 2 days. I will be waiting for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Almost a week went by, but you didn’t see him again. Of course you were there and met with other inmates, but somehow you couldn’t talk to him again. Barnes got under your skin and it scared you, because you met many criminals but only a handful people were this manipulative.

You were in the prison waiting in the room for him. Not because it was your decision, but because you got a call from the prison director. The director told you that Barnes had beaten an inmate almost to death, because he was telling all that you were very beautiful and nice. Somehow Barnes heard him talk about you and broke 4 ribs, 3 fingers and his jaw.

The inmate was in intensive care because of the head trauma and Barnes was held in solitary confinement. But it didn’t go well, because he banged his head against the wall till he started bleeding. The only thing Barnes wanted was to see you again and so you were waiting again for him.

You heard loud footsteps outside and you prepared yourself for him. “Doll, you came. I have been waiting for you.” You were weirded out as he was smiling so brightly, like he hadn’t almost killed a man and then went full psycho on himself.

He willingly sat down and when the officers were ready he shooed them out of the room. “So Doll, tell me, what did you do last week?”

“Mr Barnes, do you think this is funny? You almost killed a man and then went crazy on yourself.” he only laughed at me.

“It is your fault, you shouldn’t have avoided me and then you visited other guys here. It made me angry and right now you are pissing me too. I have told you to call me Bucky.”

The way his mood changed scared you. But you were going to end this now. “Bucky, you are not a part of the group I am working with anymore. I don’t think we will get any clear results if I am going to do the clinical evaluation, that’s why my colleague will do it.”

You thought he would get angry at you but he just smirked and said. “Really, we will see about this later, but now let's continue our game. Last time it was my turn, but I am going to change the question for you. So you had a sister, are there other family members?”

You looked away pinching the bridge of your nose. “My personal life is none of your business. I know you are trying to manipulate and play your sick mind games with me, but I will not let this happen.”

You stood up with your purse and went to the door, but then you heard him speak again. “

Mr. D/N L/N your dad is a professor at NYU and your mom, Mrs. M/N L/N is a family lawyer. With 3 children, the oldest daughter was killed then you came and after you there is a brother who is studying law. Then there is your boyfriend who is an assistant district attorney. Met while working on a case 3 years ago, he just proposed to you a few weeks ago. How sweet.”

“How the fuck do you know this? Did you bribe a ward to get the information?” He chuckled at you and said, “It’s all about power, love. You think, just because I am in a prison I don’t have the power anymore? Of course I do have the power, why do you think they didn’t take any actions? Because doll, I have the money and if I say jump they will only say how high.”

The anger in you was rising, but you stopped yourself from screaming at him. You were not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you panic. You quietly stood up and packed your things and went to the door, but stopped when you heard him speak again. “Y/N, break up with your fiance. It will be much easier for you and it will also be better for him if you break his heart now then I break his neck later.”

Cold fear spiraled through you, as you heard him threaten your love Andy. You harshly turned around and started shouting at him. “Don’t you dare ... don’t you fucking dare to threaten my love or my family. James Buchanan Barnes I am glad you are rotting in this prison and one day you will die like any other disgusting low life.”

Hearing you scream the guards enter the room and it made you feel a bit better. You told them to take him back to his cell. Officer Peterson was talking to you, trying to calm you down. All of sudden one of the officers was lying on the floor with a bloody nose. The other one took his truncheon, but before he could land a hit Bucky grabbed him and banged his head on the table again and again, till his face was covered in blood.

Officer Peterson was as shocked as you were and he tried his best to protect you from him as he could. Bucky smiled sickly at you when Peterson got in between and tried to overpower Bucky, but you just heard a ugly cracking sound.

You stood, frozen with fear as his tall figure moved closer towards you. You tried to run past him but he was fast and graped your neck and pinned you to the wall.

No sound escaped your mouth, as he moved his face closer to your neck. You tried to scream as you felt his wet tongue on your neck, but Bucky covered your mouth with his hand. “No doll, not yet. I want to hear you scream, when I will push my cock into your small cunt. You taste so sweet and I bet your pussy tastes sweeter. Fuck I can’t wait to have you. See how perfectly you fit against me.”

Bucky pressed his hard on in your stomach, tears rolled down your eyes. You tried to shove him away, but the bastard only chuckled and licked your tears away. “Hmm, tasty.”

A half dozen officers ran into the room and pulled Bucky off you. One of them hit him on the back of the knees and the other one took him in a headlock, but Bucky just grinned like it was the most amusing thing in the world.

“I will see you soon doll.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After all the disaster you were not in the right mind space, you didn’t even remember entering the directors office or him talking to you. Only after Andy arrived and crunched down to your level and held your face in his hands did you come out of the shock.

You broke into tears and hugged him tightly. Andy whispered sweet and encouraging things to you. About 10 minutes later you both were leaving the prison building and led you to his car. All the while you didn’t say a word to him and he didn’t push you to talk.

You closed your eyes as soon as he started the car and in less than 5 minutes you were lulled in a dreamless sleep.

After 3 months you were back to normal like you used to be. Andy was a sweetheart, always taking care of you and supporting your decisions. You continued your assignment in the prison but you stayed in the right wing only with another psychologist in the room.

It was a beautiful day, Andy and you had finally decided a wedding date and the venue was booked. You were out with your friends, helping you with other wedding related matters. Andy was free today and he was all happy to stay home and cook dinner for you.

Surprisingly he was a fabulous cook and you were really excited for tonight, because you had some dresses in mind. You said your goodbyes to your best friends and entered your car and drove back to your apartment.

Shortly after you arrived at home and even before you opened the door you smelled the heavenly delicious Italian garlic bread. You entered your home, it was dark inside and only the fairy lights gave you the directions to the living room. A table was set with a red wine bottle and the food. You saw Andy’s silhouette and smiled at him.

The beautiful moment was disturbed by your mobile. “Andy, give me two minutes. I will make it quick.” You turned around and left the room and picked up. “Dr. L/N there is bad news ... the prisoner James Barnes escaped from prison with the help of his team. Please stay safe ...” The mobile slipped from your fingers and you ran back in the room. You hastily turned the light on, but when you looked at Andy, you screamed out.

You ran up to him, softly touching his bloody face. His hands were bound on his back and a dishcloth was stuffed in his mouth. You reached to pull it out, but suddenly you were yanked away from him.

Bucky caged you in his arms, his chest rubbed against your back and his face was between your shoulder and neck. He took a deep breath and spoke huskily in your ear. “I missed you doll. 3 fucking months ... Do you know how pissed I was when you visited, but never came to meet me. But don’t worry we will catch up soon.”

“Andy!” You called out his name, he looked up at you. His blood dripped down his chin. Bucky saw this and chuckled lightly and nibbled the soft flesh on your neck. One of his hands slipped under your blouse and grabbed your boob.

Seeing this Andy screamed but his voice was muffled by the cloth. You shrieked in pain when Bucky bit your shoulder blade. Andy screamed again and tried to pull himself from the chair, but his beaten up body was not helping much.

Bucky grabbed your hair harshly and pushed you forward to Andy. He yanked the cloth out of his mouth and spoke to him very softly. “Andy, between us men, how is she in the bed? I bet she is a wild pussy cat. Look at her how sweet and innocent she looks.”

He pushed her face near Andy’s. “Barnes, let her go! Please, just let her go. Don’t hurt her.”

Bucky tugged you back and pinning your body against his. “Hurt? I am not going to hurt her. I am going to fuck her. You have no idea how much I wanted to do that the first time he came to the prison.” Without any warning his lips were on you. You punched his chest, but he did not stop.

“Barnes, let her go. You fucking bastard. I will kill you, just leave her alone. Fuck, I will kill you. Fuck...” One moment he was forcing his tongue in your mouth and the next moment you were on the floor. Before you realized what happened, you heard an ugly stabbing sound. You turned your face back and saw a kitchen knife in Bucky's hand.

Everything stilled around you as you saw the blood running down the knife's edge. Bucky stabbed Andy a second time in his stomach, as you crawled towards him. “ No, no,no. Please, no! Andy, baby no. Please don’t leave me. Andy ...”

But Bucky picked you up and threw you on his shoulder and walked to Andy and your bedroom. You tried to grab Andy’s shoulder, but could reach him.

You were tossed on the bed and somehow it knocked the air out of your lungs. Bucky pinned you down on the bed, but you lashed out. You hit, punched and scratched his face, shoulders and arms, but nothing moved him away from you.

You screamed and cried. “No, please let me go. Don’t do this. Andy, HELP! ANDYY!”

A sudden slap shocked her to silence, the force turned her face to side and her cheek had a stinging sensation. Bucky was not done yet, he grabbed her neck and whispered harshly in her ear. “If you again say his name, I will make sure the police will not find his body in one piece. My people will scatter every part of his in different city districts. From now on you will only say my name.”

He kept his grip on her neck. “I thought I would take my time with you today, but now you have pissed me, doll. Last chance, calm down and enjoy or ...” He grabbed your face aggressively and invaded your mouth, but as you didn’t kiss him back, he growled into your mouth. “Fuck, doll! Kiss me back.” You cried harder, your tears soaked your cheeks. Bucky grabbed your hair, his lips were back on yours. You whimpered as his tongue was back in your mouth. He tugged your hair again, till you didn’t move your tongue against his.

Meanwhile Bucky pushed your leggings down, his free hand slipped between your legs and cupped your pussy though your panties. In panic you bit into his lip, making him bleed. Bucky pulled back and touched his bottom lip with his fingers and smirked. “Doll, why didn’t you tell me, you like it rough?As you wish, Y/N.”

He ripped the blouse open and then he took his pocket knife out and slid it between your boobs and cut your bra. The cold air made her nipples tight and hard and he saw that. Bucky pushed the teared fabric to the side and took your nipple between his lips and bit down on her nipple.

You yelped and started begging him. “Please ... no, let me go.” Then you felt his strength as he just ripped your panties from bothside. He let you go for a moment and you took the chance and crawled away from him, but he gripped your leggings and pulled it down. Before you got off the bed, Bucky yanked you back by your ankle. “NO ... no don’t do this.”

He lifted your leg and pinned it on the bed. His body weight on your back made it impossible for you to move. His finger slid between your pussy lips and rubbed your clit.

You winced as he entered you with his finger, as you were still dry.

“BUCKY!” You yelled when you felt his dick between your thighs. Bucky pushed his cock against your pussy. “Sssshhh ... relax, it won’t hurt much.”

“Please.” You choked, as he entered you completely in one push. “Fuck, you are so tight.” you gripped the sheets tightly, when he pulled all the way out and pushed back in. You cried out, when he slammed in your pussy again and again. He groaned into your ear. “ Doll you are made for my cock. I can feel you getting wet.” One hand was holding your leg apart and the other one moved down to your clit and circled your clit.

He was right, you were getting wet and coating his cock. It shocked you, how your body was reacting to the abuse and rape. You whimpered and shook your head. “ Soon you will learn to like it and then there will be a time where you will beg me to fuck you.”

“Never!” You spat and tried to push him off your back, but he just fucked harder. You yelped again when he bit your shoulder and sucked the skin, leaving marks all over you.

Suddenly Bucky pulled out, but before you could react he turned you around and got between your legs. He slid back into you, you felt him so deep that his dick was almost touching your womb.

One of your nipples was in his mouth, his tongue rolled around the hard bud, his right hand was pinching the other bud. His other hand was holding your leg around his hip, as he pushed his cock harder into you.

Bucky released your nippled with a pop and kissed your jaw, like you were lovers. “I love fucking you, doll. I could fuck you all day.” A kiss silenced your protest. He slammed harder and you could help but arch your back. “I knew, you will like it. Your little pussy is gripping so tightly. You are about to cum in my cock.”

He spread both of her legs wide and held them open, as he moved deep in her. “I want to see you cum, fuck you are creaming me so well.” You cried harder, because you felt your body let go. “ Stop ... please don’t make me. Bucky ... don’t.” He continued fucking you while he was rubbing his thumb on your clit.”

“Doll, cum on my cock, I know you want to. Your pussy loves my dick.” He rubbed your clit harder, his thighs slapped against yours. “Noooo!” Your legs trembled as the organsam grew and washed over your body. Giving into his assault you came hard on his cock.

“ Good girl, now it’s time for you to take my cum. Fuck, you got tighter.”

“No, don't cum inside me, I will get pregnant, please don’t!” He pulled you up and held you tightly against his body, his lips pushed against your and his tongue was in your mouth. You groaned as he went faster in a new position into your over stimulated pussy.

Your legs shook, because the over stimulation made you cum again and with that he spilled his cum inside you. “You are mine Dr. Y/N L/N.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You heard him say, before your eyes closed and you welcomed the darkness with open arms.

A few hours later Bucky was sitting in his private jet and with you sleeping in his lap and in one hand a whisky glass. You would sleep for at least the next 12 hours. The drug he gave you after you blacked out was a bit strong, but would make sure you didn’t wake up during the entire flight.

A couple hundreds miles away a man was dead on the operation table only to be revived back to life in a few minutes.

Assistant district attorney Andrew “Andy” Barber opened his eyes after 32 hours, only knowing one thing. He will get you back safe and he will kill James Buchanan Barnes.

“Y/N I will find you. Promise.”

The End

If you like it, leave comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!!!

#dark!bucky x you #dark bucky barnes #dark fic #mafia bucky x reader #andy barber #non con #criminal au

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dungeonpuppykai · 11 days

Text

Back To Black (Teaser)

Description: When the Winter soldier experiments go wrong on your fiance Crown Prince James Barnes and he ends up crippled and unstable, you call the engagement off and your family proposes that the alliance can still be on if his family pairs you up with his twin brother Nick instead. All seems to be fine and dandy until James breaks out of the lab one night and comes straight for you, razing everyone who stands in his way.

Pairing: Dark!Winter Soldier James Bucky Barnes | Morally Gray Princess!You.

Disclaimer: I do not own James Bucky Barnes or The Winter Soldier (sadly). This story will contain dark and mature content. Minors do not interact.

Warnings: Dubcon, morally gray!reader, opportunistic reader, smut with plot, dark!Bucky, Nick is a dick, angst, winter soldier, exhibitionism, choking, hair pulling, slapping, humiliation, degradation, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected p-in-v, missionary and doggy style, breeding kink, creampie, fear kink, power imbalance, Bucky's metal arm (?), pet names (rosey, baby), Daddy kink, sir kink, collar and leash.

Status: Complete.

Note: Click on the status to be redirected to it <3

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boxofbonesfic · 2 years

Photo

Title: Cut

Pairing: Soft Dark! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Kink Prompt: Cut [Knife play]

Word Count: 1,944

Summary: You haven’t been having the best luck on dating apps, but you’re willing to try again.

Warnings: AU: Dark, Noncon, Stalking, Obsessive behavior, Possessive Behavior, Knife play, Marking, Dead Dove: Do not eat, MINORS DNI!

A/N: i’m super excited to share this one with you all, i had a lot of fun fulfilling the brief. hoping you all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! divider by @firefly-graphics

Your date’s eyes flick up over your right shoulder for the umpteenth time that night, a spark of nervousness growing in them.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, a small but reassuring smile on your lips. You turn around, but there isn’t anything out of place at the restaurant. The tables surrounding you are all full of people laughing and chatting amicably, not one of them paying attention to either of you. “See someone you know?” You joke, but Phil’s responding laughter is hollow and anxious sounding.

“No, no,” he says, shaking his head. “I just thought—you know what? Never mind.” Phil dives back into the conversation full force, asking you about your likes and dislikes, your family and friends, your dating history. “No boyfriends I should know about?” He leans forward, and you get the impression that this light-hearted joke somehow isn’t light-hearted at all.

“No.” You say with a short laugh. “Why would I be on Tingle looking for a boyfriend if I had a boyfriend?” You take a sip of your wine as Phil chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

“No, totally, of course. I’ve just, you know. Heard some real horror stories on 6Space.”

“Hah, yeah,” you say, thinking of your latest string of failed dates. “Horror stories.”

“You have some of your own, I take it?”

You heave a sigh, downing another generous sip of your wine. You shift a little in your seat, thinking uncomfortably of the last date you’d been on. James—Bucky, he wanted you to call him Bucky—was nice, but… intense. His charm and passion had been underscored unpleasantly by a deep, aching need, one you didn’t—and still don’t—think you’re qualified to fill.

“I guess you could say that.” Going back to Bucky’s place with him had been a mistake. One that left you weak and sore for days afterward, and you’d swiftly blocked his number before re-installing the dating app last week.

You’re just perfect, doll, you know that? Fucking sweet and tight and all mine, isn’t that right?

The entrees come without issue, and you eat half of your falafel before you’re tapping out. “I love this place, but the portion sizes,” you complain lightheartedly, and Phil laughs, nodding in agreement.

“Let me get it,” he says, grabbing for the bill. You watch Phil pat his pockets, his expression turning worried as he searches. “What the f—Okay, I totally had my wallet before I went to the bathroom.” He rises from the table and flags down a waiter. “Has anyone found a wallet? I can’t seem to find mine.”

“I’ll check with the host.”

He sits back down, cheeks red with embarassment. “This never happens,” he says, laughing nervously. “Can I, um. I can Cash-mo you, if that’s okay.”

You place your own card in the book, nodding. “Of course.” The waiter swings back by to grab it, and shakes his head apologetically at Phil. He swipes your card through the reader while Phil mutters that maybe he left it in the taxi, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. You tuck your copy of the receipt into your purse and stand.

“So um. I was thinking, maybe we could get a drink at my place?” Phil asks, a distinctly unattractive pleading note in his voice. “No pressure for anything else, of course, and—”

“You know what, Phil? I think I’m going to call it a night.” You offer him a tired smile, one you hope masks your dissatisfaction with the date. “But maybe we can hang out again?” The offer is a false one, made to round off the hard edge of your rejection. Phil deflates.

“Y-yeah. Of course,” he replies defeatedly, irritation setting itself in the displeased curl of his lip. “Another time.”

The walk back to your apartment is dreary, made all the worse by the cold drizzle and your own bad mood. Your fat orange tabby greets you at the door, yowling hungrily as he winds his way around your legs. You kick off your damp heels by the door, rocking gratefully on the balls of your feet. You reach down to pick up the cat, and he twists in your arms to butt his head against your face.

“I don’t know, Oliver,” you sigh, picking your way over the pile of your shoes by the front door. “Maybe this dating thing isn’t for me.” He chirrups in your arms, kneading you through your clothes as you head for the kitchen, intent on feeding him.

“Probably not. You strike me as a one-man kinda gal.”

“Fuck!” You shriek, dropping a yowling Oliver as you turn to stare fearfully into your darkened living room. You squint, feeling around in your purse for the little canister of mace you keep there. The outline of a figure—tall, broad shouldered—folds his arms across his chest, and steps a little closer to the light. Your mouth drops open with shock.

“Bucky?” You glance at the door and then back at him. “W-what are you doing here?” He cards a hand through his dark hair, teeth sinking into his plump lower lip as he contemplates his answer. His slate blue eyes catch the light as they fall on your face.

“I wanted to see you.” His mouth twists. “But you weren’t here.” You swallow, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. You don’t know how he got in without breaking your lock or a window—and furthermore, you don’t remember ever giving him your address.

“I-I think you should leave.” He doesn’t respond, watching you silently with an expression you can’t accurately read. “M-Maybe we can hang out—”

“Another time?” He says dryly, raising an eyebrow at you. “You use that line a lot, doll.”

“You’ve been watching me,” you say accusatorially, but Bucky only shrugs.

“A guy’s got to keep an eye on his best girl.” You hear the snikt of a knife sliding open, and you heart leaps into your throat as the blade gleams in the darkness. “I made you feel good, didn’t I, doll?” He asks, flipping the knife and catching it by the handle with his metal hand. When you don’t answer, he scowls. “Please, sweetheart, I’m talking to you.”

“Y-yes.” You croak, flinching as he steps closer. You’re pressed against the wall with fear, unable to look away from the cruelly curved blade in his hand. You try to inch along the wall, matching him step for step—but his hand crashes against the wall beside your head, trapping you. He turns the knife in his other hand, a look of consideration on his face. You can’t look away from it, your eyes jumping between his distracted gaze and the blade.

“You know,” he says, spinning it around one finger before catching it by the hilt, “it really hurt my feelings when you didn’t call, Sweetheart.” The breath in your throat escapes in a shrill little squeal as he slides the flat of it against your bare arm. His eyes flick up to yours. “I really liked you.”

“B-Bucky I—”

“You blocked me.”

“You scared me,” you whimper. He drags the blunt side of the knife down your arm and goosebumps spring up in its wake. “W-we’d been on one date, a-and you were talking rings and marriage, it-it was—”

“So knowing what I want’s a bad thing, now?” There’s a subtle note of accusation in his voice that you don’t miss. “You know, years I had other people in my head.” The knife reaches your wrist, and he turns it, pressing the edge against your pulse point before dragging it back up. “Telling me what I wanted. What to do.” You flinch as he presses the tip against your chest, just above the collar of your dress. He drags it down, and it slices through the chiffon of your dress like butter, parting the layers in a straight line until it falls off of you.

“I don’t understand,” he says softly. He cups your chin with one hand, all while he draws shapes on your belly with the tip of the knife. “Didn’t I make you feel good?” You feel each pass with crystal clarity, shivering as your nipples tighten from the cool air. Bucky sees it, licking his lips as he flicks his thumb across the tip of one, following it with the blade.

“Yes.” You’re afraid to move, to breathe. He draws the tip over the curve of your breast, tracing it down your side and hooking it beneath the elastic of your panties. It snaps against your skin, and you wince. He sighs, tracing it over your hip. The knife is so sharp that it doesn’t even hurt as your skin splits when he applies the tiniest bit more pressure, your blood welling up on the blade.

“I want you to understand, doll.” His voice is eerily calm. He swipes his thumb up the flat of the knife, collecting the thin line of crimson on his finger before popping it into his mouth. “You’re it for me.” The tip of the knife presses dangerously into the fleshy curve of your thigh, but Bucky pulls it away before it can break the skin. You gasp as he cups you with his flesh hand, parting the cleft lips of your cunt with thick, practiced fingers. He chuckles pulling his fingers from between your thighs to show you the wetness at their tips. Your stomach curdles with shame as he flashes his teeth in a triumphant grin.

“Knew you liked me, doll.” The knife-tip leaves your skin tingling and oversensitive as you strain to feel where next it’ll touch down. You stare up at him with glassy, disbelieving eyes as he reaches back down to thumb at your clit, his other hand drawing oblong shapes with the knife. Down, over the curve of your belly, over your hip, tracing the side of your face—he doesn’t stop. There’s nowhere for you to go, pressed against the wall with Bucky’s body blocking you in, nowhere to hide from the sensation of his fingers twisting in your core and the sharp silver blade leaving trails on your flesh.

“G-God, Bucky s-stop—” The rest of your plea dissolves on your tongue as your body jackknifes, hot currents of electricity washing away conscious thought. His voice is dark in your ear, egging you on as you convulse in his arms.

“Good girl, doll, so good,” he coos, the stubble on his cheek rasping against your own as he nuzzles you. “So pretty when you cum, baby. Could watch it all goddamn day.” He pulls his drenched fingers from your core with an embarrassingly slick noise. Your knees are trembling, barely holding you up, so it’s no task for Bucky to sweep them out from under you, cradling you to his chest as he walks toward the bedroom.

He lays you across the bed with surprising gentleness, and then kneels on the floor by the foot of it. Your legs are dangling over the edge, but not for long before Bucky rests them on his shoulders. His breath puffs against your slick, sensitive folds. You whimper as the tip of the knife presses into your hip again, and even with it’s wicked sharpness, you feel the blade bite into your flesh. You writhe, whimpering, and Bucky hushes you gently. He leans forward to lave a wet, sloppy kiss against your cunt.

“Stay still, sweetheart,” he says, and you feel him bear down on the knife again, drawing a straight line, and then a curve. “Don’t wanna mess up my initials.”

fin

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#sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x you #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x you #dark!bucky smut #smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #au: dark #darkfic #dark!fic #boxofbonesfic

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froggyfics · 3 months

Text

For Your Pleasure - 3

The aftermath comes to light.

18+ only! I do not consent for this content to be viewed by minors. Please take heed of the warnings listed, though they are not entirely comprehensive. Do not continue reading if you are uncomfortable with the content. This story and its contents are 100% fictional, and are not affiliated with Marvel Comics.

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Pairing: viking!dark! Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Warnings: violence, bloodshed

Word Count: 1,774

The invader – your assailant – leaves you writhing in pain in your home. You’re unsure if it’s because he wants to terrorize some other unlucky villager or if he just got bored of you.

You cough up spit, dust, and dirt. It’s impossible to keep your vision steady. Your legs are wobbly like a newborn calf and there’s a great pain in your abdomen.

It takes every ounce of your energy to lift the barrel into your arms. A sense of remorse envelopes you. Although you are being forced by the invader to take your family’s food, you can’t help but feel like you’re stealing from them.

You grunt while you carry the heavy barrel to the rocky shoreline that sits at the edge of your village. Your peripheral vision notes that there are dozens of people scattered across the sandy shore. Some are your fellow bloodied villagers. The others are the barbarians.

You remember your grandmother’s voice from when you were younger.

“The Vikings,” she ominously tells you.

“Oh mother, don’t scare the poor child!” Your mother huffs. “The Vikings have not attacked in several years.”

Your grandmother exclaims, “They will return!” She shakes her frail hand in the air with as much energy as she could before hacking up some phlegm. She takes your small hands in hers, “This village has become lazy. The Vikings do not attack for a few years and all of a sudden, everyone thinks that they are safe. Ha!” She coughs some more. “You wait and see, child. Wait and see. The Vikings will always return. Be prepared.”

“Right over there.” A Viking shoves your shoulder towards a particular boat, forcibly bringing you back to the present.

You approach the boat carefully. The stormy waves are crashing against it, but it does not yield to the power of the water. It holds steady in the wet sand. You almost want to marvel at it. The puny boats that the local fishermen had would have cracked and disintegrated against the power of the waters.

You lower the barrel into the small boat, where there are several more identical barrels within. With the amount of food they are taking, your village will certainly starve before the weather warms again.

You turn around to look for your family. They’re not there and despair strikes your heart. Your legs take you to sit next to a crying Helga, wrapping your arm around her, like you did with Frida earlier. She does not speak, but you can tell the story of what happened to her by looking at the tattered remains of her clothes and various scratches and cuts across her. She suffered the same fate as you.

The two of you do not exchange any words. There’s still chaos all around. Screams pulsate in the air. Blood fills your nostrils every so often when you sniff hard enough. The Vikings relay orders to one another, readying their boats. There’s one behemoth of a ship a mile into the sea - waiting for the return of the barbarians.

The lonesome ship piques your interest. It comes to your attention that there are actually very few Vikings around compared to the population of your village. They really overtook your measly village’s defenses with a skeleton crew. You all were easy to defeat. Just another village for them to conquer.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost don’t catch Frida as your assailant drops her into you.

“Frida!” you cry out.

“She certainly has a fighter’s spirit,” your assailant chuckles. “My men caught her trying to crawl away.” He meanly kicks her legs, as you cradle her body.

Her eyes roll to the back of her head and she does not regain consciousness despite your attempts at waking her. Slaps and pinches do not bring her back. Red splotches engulf her dress, but her chest moves up and down. She’s still alive, but hangs on by a thread.

“Please,” you stare into his eyes. “She is but a child. She needs to go to a healer.”

“A healer?” He scoffs. “Do not prolong her suffering. She may not be dead yet, but she will certainly cross that bridge tonight.”

Helga lovingly brushes her fingers through Frida’s hair. It was all she could do to communicate to Frida somehow that she was not alone. You rock Frida like you would a baby, trying to comfort her the best you knew how.

There’s so much noise all around - more than what you were used to hearing. The village was always so quaint. There were never this many screams.

The jarl barks out orders to his crew. The band of barbarians move swiftly like water, as if they have done this before.

“Fear not! I do not intend to kill you. After all, who else will warm my bed while I travel across the sea, if not you?”

A shudder involuntarily comes over you. You pray with every part of your being that he didn’t mean what he said - that it was just a scare tactic used to keep you compliant at that moment in time.

Rocking Frida back and forth relieves you of your worries and your pain. Despite your chest and pelvis screaming in agony, she is all that matters at this moment. Splintered wood from the jarl’s arrow surrounds her gaping wound. Whoever found her must have yanked the arrow out, hoping that Frida would bleed to death.

“Too bad for them. Frida’s a fighter,” you think. “She’ll come back to me soon enough, ready to talk my ears off.”

More and more survivors gather on the shore. The smell of defeat is in the air. You look around for your village’s chieftain, but he is nowhere in sight. In fact, you don’t see a single member of his household.

Anger suddenly surges inside your chest at the thought of the chieftain’s likely death. You don’t quite understand why. You neither liked nor disliked the chieftain. Yet suddenly, in the midst of the turmoil and vanquishment, you’ve become a devout follower of his.

Your eyes survey your surroundings. You finally find the jarl, talking to his men with his back turned to you. You hope your eyes gain the divine power to burn holes in the back of his head.

As if he is clairvoyant, he slowly turns around to face you. You hope he sees the hatred in your eyes.

He does - you know he does because he grins. His teeth are still stained red. He motions you to come to him with his hand. You stubbornly look away.

“Go, girl!” Helga scolds. “Go, see what he wants. Otherwise, you will be the death of us all!”

Helga pries Frida from your arms. It feels like you’re losing Frida again.

“Oh, yes, please. Take your time! No rush!” The jarl shouts, his words dripping with sarcasm.

You hold your tongue, even though a growl froths in your throat. Shaky legs trudge to him. Every inch of you still hurts from his earlier assault.

His hand gently grabs onto your shoulder. It feels like a mocking gesture. You know just how dangerous his hands are. You don’t think you could ever forget how his hands violated you.

“We’re going into that one.” He points at a boat some distance away.

You inhale a shaky breath. The world becomes fuzzy and black spots take over your vision. The ground no longer supports you, and you slowly freefall into the dark abyss.

A muffled voice exclaims, “Oh no, we will not have any of that!”

He’s there to catch you. When you land in his arms, the darkness fades away, but then you’re left with the inescapable light. You take a moment to process your fainting episode. You peer up at the smiling jarl, with his blood-stained teeth. Your parents raised you right - you were nearly about to thank him for catching you. The words fumble in your mouth though, as your mind catches up to the situation.

Why are you even surprised? He quite explicitly told you that he would kidnap you earlier. You have an out-of-body experience as he marches you to the designated boat. This feels like a dream - a dream that you have when you have a fever so great that it deludes you.

When you’re within arms reach of the boat, you’re suddenly pulled into reality.

“Run!” your mind screams at you. “Fight back or die trying! Die now with your brethren instead of far away from home!”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tuts disapprovingly at your hesitation. “Do not provoke me, girl.” He leans in closely to whisper in your ear. “I’ll make you watch as I slit that little girl’s throat.”

You blink at him, and then observe the other villagers. Not one of them dares to meet your gaze. The shame of their silence is more nauseating than the blood.

The jarl laughs heartily when you voluntarily step into the boat. “I knew you were well-behaved!”

Frida’s limp body becomes smaller and smaller as the boat sweeps you away. Helga does not even look in your direction.

The ship is so much bigger than anything you’ve seen before. If it were under different circumstances, you would take the time to marvel at its gorgeous architecture. It’s not like your captor would have allowed you a moment of reprieve. A flurry of bodies surround you as the crew prepare to set sail.

You clutch onto the ship’s railing, looking longingly at your village. You’re in a daze until a certain sight piques your interest.

The shoreline is barely visible from the ship, but you know it’s them. Despite the obvious injuries they’ve sustained, it’s evident that your parents have come out from their hiding places to the shoreline to survey the survivors. You can tell it’s them despite the tattered remains of their clothes and the large red stains. They are searching - trying to find their siblings, nieces, nephews, neighbors, friends, and children.

You inhale as deeply as you could, so that your scream would be deafening. Your mother’s head whips in your direction.

A genuine smile stretches across your face. “Mother,” you croak - your voice finally giving out to the day’s trauma. You give a small wave before your hand is yanked and twisted behind your back.

You know it’s him before he even speaks. “Shut it, woman!” His grip on your wrist tightens tenfold. “You will speak only when spoken to.”

He continues to yap in your ear about obedience and compliance, and even though the village grows smaller in your vision as the ship sails away, you continue to smile.

#marvel comics #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #viking!bucky barnes #bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #dark bucky barnes

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highonmarvel · 1 year

Text

You Can Cry

Bucky Barnes: Biker!Bucky takes a liking to a sensitive girl. 18+ only!

content warnings here!

You wipe away tears as you impatiently wait for your ride to arrive, tapping your foot and hugging yourself. You don’t know why you always get so emotional, get brought to tears so easily, and your sensitivity slightly angers you, being irritated that you still cry like a child at the most silly things.

Your date had only laughed when you stared at him blankly, asking him to explain his joke again, and the rational part of you was sure he didn’t mean any harm, the rational part of you was sure it was lighthearted—he was a nice guy—but still you felt that familiar sting in your eyes at the response.

Even when you brought the night to a close, you refused a ride home from him, denying it so harshly he was stuck at the table for a bit when you stormed out, hot tears staining your cheeks, and you didn’t see him leave—maybe he was still inside and talking up another girl who didn’t take every little thing so personally.

“You sad, pretty girl?”

You startle at the voice and snap your head up to follow the sound, leading your eyes to a tall man wearing a leather jacket, leaning against the wall of the next building over to the restaurant you had stomped out of. He cards a hand through his hair and steps forward, and instinctively you step back, feeling an air of danger about him, darker than just a mugger in the night.

You wipe away the last of your tears and sniffle softly before quickly bring your focus back to the street, mentally pleading for your driver to pull up, too scared to fish your phone back out of your bag to check how far he was, and clutching your purse tighter.

He groans, “Please, sweetheart, I’m talkin’ to you.”

“No,” you reply, quietly, not making a move to look back up at his captivating blue eyes, a slight fear that if you look back at him, you’ll never be able to look away again. Or he’ll be the last thing you see, “I’m not.”

“You sure, princess?” he takes another step toward you, and this time you can’t muster up the courage to move away, frozen still, “Looked like you were cryin’.”

You grow irritated not with him but more with yourself, for somehow having shown such weakness to a man in the shadows—but how could you have known?

“I wasn’t,” you lie, finding yourself holding back tears again, begging any higher power out of the dozens believed to help you out just this one time and have your driver pull around the corner. The streets are empty and quiet, the only two people in the world you and him, and the only noise his painstakingly slow footsteps towards you, and your rapidly beating heart, “I wasn’t,” you repeat again, predicting you would sound more confident, but your voice cracks, and you wince at the sound of his sigh in response.

“Aw, don’t cry,” you gasp as he suddenly pulls you flush against his chest, caging your body to his with his right arm pressing into your lower back and his left gently gripping your chin, forcing you to look up at him. A smile spreads across his gorgeous face as your tears well up. You want to look to the sky to stop drops from falling, but you can’t, not because of his light grip, but because of that sadistic glint in his eyes, absolutely fascinating you.

A drop spills from an eye, and he tilts his head, watching it roll down your cheek. Your eyes glisten with tears and his glisten with delight, relishing in each drop that rolls down your cheek, as you can do nothing but stare up helplessly at him, paralysed by fear.

He leans down and presses a light kiss on your cheek, one you might have found loving if given to you by someone close.

“You’re so pretty,” he remarks, bringing his other hand up to cup your face, unconcerned with keeping you near, knowing you can’t move if you tried. He rubs calloused thumbs across your cheeks, wiping the tears away as he admires your features, “So pretty, doll,” he murmurs, gaze roaming your face until they land on your terrified eyes, and he smiles again.

“What? Never learned how to take a compliment, princess?”

You blink up him, starting to tremble very slightly, your mouth slightly agape. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you manage a meek, “Thank you…”

“Bucky,” he mumbles.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you repeat, just wanting him to let you go, at this point completely disinterested with where your driver is, just him to leave you alone.

“Now, won’t you tell a nice guy like me why you’re cryin’? Did someone hurt you?”

You shake your head weakly, willing yourself to just stop fucking crying.

“Don’t lie to me,” he grips your face slightly firmer, not hard, but enough to make you understand his determination, “Did some guy make you cry, angel?” he asks, gently.

Despite your better judgement, you nod; maybe that is the best judgement, to just respond the way he wants so he might just leave you alone. No, your compliance is only seeming to spur him on, as shown by a pity frown taking shape on his face, and you can’t quite place if he’s mocking you or trying to seem more empathetic in some weird way.

“No, a sweet girl like you?” he places a kiss on your forehead, “You’re precious, angel.”

You shift uncomfortably, unable read the situation, unable to tell if he’s just fucking with you or if he feels bad. And you don’t have to, because just as he pulls away to look at you, you hear tyres against gravel, a car pulling around the corner, snapping you out of your… trance, and whipping your head to see a white corolla.

“Stay beautiful, doll,” Bucky says, and he slips into the shadows before you can grasp it. Cold air rushes against your cheeks—you hadn’t realised his hands were relatively warm—making you feel more exposed. For good measure, you quickly wipe away tears before hoping into the car with a smile to your driver.

Your date texts you the next morning, apologises for upsetting you—even though he doesn’t know how—and asks for a redo, or a second date, kinda, he puts it. With a clear mind, you do feel bad for being so dramatic and overly sensitive last night, and thinking back on it, a little rude with how short you were being with him when all he did was laugh lightly, it wasn’t malicious. He was a nice guy. You’re still shaken from the previous night, but maybe a casual date will relax you.

You agree, and he immediately responds, suggesting another restaurant for that evening.

You feel very pretty in your dress as you enter the restaurant and sit at table. You had arrived only 10 minutes late, so maybe you should just give him more time to show up. You didn’t want to order, but the waitress seemed to be getting impatient, and so you order something light and ate alone. An hour and he still wasn’t here. Your plate is cleared away, barely anything touched, and a few teardrops splashed at the edges.

You’re sniffling in the corridor of your apartment as you fumble with your keys and stumble in, trying not to completely break down as you kick off your shoes and head straight for your bedroom, thinking that you could escape some crying if you just fell asleep.

You’re sobbing quietly as you enter, pushing the door behind you, not even caring that it didn’t really close, ready to flop onto bed.

“You sad, pretty girl?”

You gasp and spin to the sound of that familiar voice, the same words being spoken in the same tone as the previous night.

Bucky pushes the door and this time it clicks shut. He looks up at you, and his blue eyes catch the moonlight in a soft yet sinister manner, causing you to stumble back. You can barely see him through the tears blurring your vision and the dark room.

“Bucky?” you whisper, unnecessarily, seeing as of fucking course it’s Bucky.

He bends his head back slightly with a smile, “I love the way you say my name, doll. Can you say it again for me?”

You take a few steps back, heart racing faster than you ever thought it could, and let out a quiet shriek as your heel hits the foot of your bed and your fall back onto it. Bucky is hovering over you in a flash, one hand propping him up and his right slipping under your dress to rub soothing circles on your thigh.

“Did he stand you up?” he leans down, lips between your ear and neck, “He doesn’t like you, princess.”

You try not to let out a sound, but you can’t stop a choked sob from escaping, and he smiles against your neck. You turn your head away, but he stays near, his voice hovering just above your ear, “He doesn’t like you, and he can’t take care of you, sweetheart, he can’t.”

Despite your efforts, another choked gasp escapes you, and you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping he’ll just go away.

“You’re shaking,” he notes, changing his circular motions from clockwise to anti, “Are you scared, doll? Am I scaring you?”

“Yes!” you gasp as he kisses your neck.

“No…” he replies against your skin, faux-disbelief coating his tone, “But I won’t hurt you, angel; he will.”

He lies down next to you and brings his left hand up to stroke your face, “It’s okay, you can cry,” he coaxes, and you do, breath escaping your lungs in short gasps as tears fall and he wipes them away, kissing your neck and still rubbing circles on your thigh, “You can cry…”

His thumb slides to your inner thigh and you squirm, but he quickly stops you by harshly gripping your thigh. Once he’s sure you won’t twist again, he runs his finger up and down your inner thigh with a sigh.

“You’ll learn to love this, doll, but for now… you can cry…” he shifts downward and pulls your dress up, “A sweet girl like you’s gotta taste sweet too.”

✪

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tempestuous-lush · 1 year

Text

daddy, please. || f!reader x dark!Bucky

Bucky shows up at your apartment after your initial run in, intent on showing you just who it is you belong to.

warnings: daddy kink, breeding kink, multiple creampies, shibari, demeaning sex, choking, size kink, cunnilingus, hint of knife play, cheating on Steve, dominant/submissive, belt punishment, and dark!Bucky. Please let me know what I missed.

There is definitely some plot forming. I tried to give hints at why Bucky is having some...difficulties, adjusting.

Also, not proof read.

misc: Also, sorry for the wait. Along with personal stuff I KEPT re-writing and then had to cut it down some to make it flow better. Thanks for waiting everyone.

tags: @sweetieswiftie @ambassadortotrilliusprime @castlesnchurches @cjand10

word count: 2,891 k

[part one][part two]

Your body betrayed you, giving away just how needy you were as Bucky disappeared from the room.

He had knocked on your door.

You had thought it was someone else. Specifically, you thought it was the food you had ordered. When you opened the door you immediately tried to shut it but Bucky’s vibranium hand blocked the door from shutting. A slightly threatening tone to his voice as he teasingly called out, “Doll…you’ve been avoiding me since the restaurant.”

There was a panic welling up inside you for some reason you couldn’t quite tell and you bolted away and into your bedroom.

Just as you closed one door, you heard the slam of your front door and Bucky calling out to you in a sing-song voice, “Trying to hurt daddy’s feelings, doll.”

You could hear the hardwood floors creaking as he walked through your living room.

“Why don’t you come on out doll? Got you a little surprise, you know.”

You heard something thud as he dropped it to the ground before he came to stand right on the other side of your bedroom door. Your breath caught in your throat. A little hum escaped Bucky as he spoke softly, “I know you’ve thought about it. Probably late at night, lying next to Steve as he sleeps. I bet you touch that pretty little pussy till you’re panting, unable to finish because you need more. Need your daddy.”

He was right. He was absolutely right. You had one hand against the door, bracing it, even as your other slowly pawed at your breast.

Bucky was listening for a sign of some sort when he heard it, the smallest whimper from you. He tsked, “Poor little greedy doll. Why don’t you come out here and let daddy give you your fill?”

You unlocked the door and Bucky stepped back.

As it opened, you stood there looking down at the ground with a silk slip on your figure. Bucky huffed before commanding in a firm voice, “Look at me.”

Slowly raising your eyes to meet his, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. Those deep blue eyes were shrouded in lust as he looked at you…drank you in.

You were desperate for something to shift in the room and you bit your lower lip, not noticing the way Bucky’s nostrils flared slightly, before asking, “You said you had something for me, daddy?”

“It depends, doll. You ready to be daddy’s good little whore?”

Your arousal spiked at those words and your thighs rubbed together even as you looked at him, “Yes daddy.”

“Kneel.”

You did, without hesitation. A yelp escaped you as his vibranium hand grabbed hold of the delicate fabric of your nightie before ripping it clean off. He bent down to reach behind you to tie your hands together with your ripped clothes.

Greedy for him, you mouthed his bulge through the fabric of his clothes and he slapped your ass hard and fast. The sting outweighed the pleasure and so you immediately ceased.

Bucky stepped back and looked down at you as he unzipped his pants and freed his hard cock.

Stepping back to you, his flesh hand grabbed your face and squeezed even as he commanded you, “Open your mouth for daddy like the little whore you are.”

Your breathing picked up as you did just that, opening as wide as you could just for Bucky to spit in your mouth. A gasp escaped you but was immediately muffled by his cock thrusting into your mouth. Bucky’s hand threaded into your hair and fingers clenched to pull deliciously at your scalp. The sounds that escaped his mouth as he thrust to the back of your throat had you moaning around him, the fact that you were capable of giving him such pleasure with so little giving you a sense of power. As he held you there, his cock buried in your mouth, he gave you praise, “Shame I couldn’t use this perfect mouth the last time, doll. Had to be quick, but don’t worry”- he let off as you started gagging around him, pulling back to let you breath before burying himself once more -“we have all the time now.”

Bucky pulled back again, leaving your gasping for air. You were left on the ground. Bucky smiled down at you before lightly stroking your chin, “Let me go get what I bought you, yeah?”

He disappeared from sight as he went to your front door.

That was how you ended up in your current predicament. You were completely naked, on your knees, your proof of your arousal on your inner thighs and how flushed your skin was. You didn’t understand how he could make you like this so swiftly. But all you knew was that you needed him. He came back around the corner, not having bothered to try and zip up his pants. He flashed a smile of amusement at you, seeing the way you licked your lips at the sight, “I have much better plans in mind than using that mouth of yours, doll. Though, it is…awfully tempting.”

He reached into a bag and you squirmed when you saw what was on your floor. Bundled hemp rope. There was enjoyment in his voice, “That little squirm, right there. I saw it once on camera and I’ve been fantasizing about tying you up since, doll. Say yes. Say yes for daddy and you’ll see stars.”

A shiver ran up your spine as you answered, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, “Yes, daddy.”

Within twenty minutes he had you exactly how he wanted you. He had started by dragging the rope along your skin before dragging you by the hair to your dining table, before using the knife he had sheathed on his thigh against his jeans to cut your hands free, “Let me give you a harness first, doll.”

It took him very little time to tie a diamond patterned harness along your chest. The rope felt foreign, but there was a slight bite to it that had you excited. You also couldn’t miss the way it brought your breasts to focus. Bucky palmed one of them, eliciting a whimper from you, before he gave his next command, “On the table for daddy. And on your back, doll.”

You gasped as he tied your wrists in expert knots before pulling the rope taught and tying them to the legs of the table. Curious, you played with the rope and realized you enjoyed the way it bit into you as you pulled. Bucky noticed and smiled a bit as he spread your legs before stepping back to slide his belt off, looping it in his hand as he commented, “Keep your legs spread for me, doll.”

He dragged his belt along your thighs and told you in a tone that demanded your attention, “If it gets too much, doll, say red. And I stop immediately.”

You nodded, biting your lip before finding your voice, “Yes, daddy.”

“Good. Now tell me doll, how many times have you touched yourself thinking of those few minutes between us last time? Specifically when Steve is sleeping next to you.”

You stumbled, trying to recall. The leather of his belt snapped down on one of your nipples. You let out a cry and bucked your hips upwards. Your legs closed instantly as he growled at you, “How many times, whore? Tell me. And keep your legs spread or I will tie those down, too.”

To drive his point home on your legs, he snapped his belt against the outside of your legs three quick times before you managed to pry them open. Bucky’s fingers invaded you as he sank his middle and ring finger into you, groaning at how wet you were around him. He looked at your face before pumping his fingers lazily, eliciting moans from you, “Getting so wet from daddy treating you like the whore you are?”

A gasp of frustration left you as he took his fingers away, your protesting dying in your throat as you watched him lick both of his fingers clean. His blue eyes never wavered from you and the sounds he made had you eager for whatever he had coming. You pressed your legs together, desperate for relief, and Bucky laughed a deep, almost menacing laugh. He bent down and picked up more rope, “Alright then, you needy little whore. Time to tie you up completely.”

“Daddy, please…” you weren’t sure what you were begging for, but you had no shame.

As Bucky secured your left leg to the table, making sure your ass hung slightly off the edge of the table, he gave a painful slap against your right cheek. A cry escaped you as he tied down your right leg. You were rendered immobile and Bucky laid his hand on your thigh, “So, how many times doll? How many times can you count that you touched yourself while Steve was asleep, thinking of me?”

You caved, feeling shame, “Eight.”

“Eight? Oh doll, it's only been five days. Can’t get daddy out of your thoughts?”

“No.” You were defeated.

“I’d say that requires a punishment, no?” Bucky rested the loop of his belt against your already sensitized clit. Your eyes grew large and Bucky smiled down at your realization, “That’s right. Eight times requires eight licks of my belt. And you’re going to count. I’d ask if you were ready, but doll your pussy is already soaking the leather of my belt. So let’s start.”

That was all the warning you got before he brought his belt down. The pain gave way to pleasure almost immediately and you weren’t altogether certain you couldn’t cum like this. You counted down, savoring each delicious snap of leather against you until you got to eight, crying out.You were quivering as you came in a way you didn’t think was possible. Bucky realized what just happened and a wicked sounding chuckle just escaped, “Did you just cum to my belt, doll?”

You whimpered once again, “Yes, daddy.”

“Tell me you don’t feel this between us, down to how responsive your body is to my touch. You were made for me, doll. Besides, I already know, that perfect pussy fits my cock perfectly.”

Listening to Bucky’s words had you panting, desperate for him to take you and fill you. But no. You realized you wouldn’t get that just yet though as he walked away and you heard a door open. Your bedroom door? You couldn’t be sure, but it seemed so. He walked back in the room only moments later with your wand vibrator in his hand. He smirked, “You always seemed to respond well to this toy doll. Curious to see if a whore like you can handle it when you don’t have control.”

Without any further words he turned it on to a medium setting and pressed it to your spread pussy, clit overly exposed. Your back immediately went to arch as pleasure shot through your body, begging cries falling from your lips though you weren’t sure what you were begging for, “Please, daddy! Please. Ja-James please!”

“Only since you said please.”

And with that, keeping the vibrator on your clit, Bucky thrust inside of you. A moan like nothing before came out of you before Bucky clamped his hand down on your mouth, “Quiet, my little whore, or you’ll make your neighbors think the worst.”

“Oh fuck, doll.” He thrust into you again before pulling back, “Burying my cock in you is the closest to heaven I’ll ever get. Trakhni menya.”

The sounds that followed next were sinful. All that could be heard were your muffled moans, Bucky grunting with each thrust, the sound of his cock slamming into you, and the vibrator purring against your clit. Every jolt of pleasure had you pulling against your ropes. The sensation only added to how exquisite you felt. When Bucky pulled his hand back, a near growl escaped him at the sounds you made.

He slapped one of your nipples as he encouraged you, “That’s it shlyukha. Can see my cock deep inside of you, claiming what’s mine.”

That was your undoing: his words mixed with the feel of him inside you with the vibrator still pressed firmly against you, unable to move away and forced to simply take it. A scream erupted from you, born of pure pleasure, and Bucky pulled back to see you cum. He turned the vibrator off and applied the flesh of his hand to your folds, rubbing as you made a mess with your juices.

As soon as you ceased, Bucky’s mouth fell on you in a frenzy. A moan came from him as soon as his tongue fell on you, lapping at the mess you made. You were still dazed from what happened and so sensitive that you cried out again as he sucked on the oversensitive, tender bundle of nerves. Even as he did, he was eager to draw another orgasm from you and slipped one of his vibranium fingers inside of you. As he did you shuddered, “Daddy…please, it- s’too much.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he changed his ministrations, coaxing another orgasm from you before he stood up and tapped the weight of his cock against your pussy, “I had to take a taste of you doll, before I filled you to the brim with my cum.”

You pulled at the ropes again as he drove into you, desperate to touch him.

You weren’t sure why but you hungered for the feel of him beneath your hands.

A plea escaped you, “Bucky, please…please, finish inside of me. Fill me.”

“There she is, my beautiful doll. Daddy’s whore.” His hips began to move at a sporadic pace. His knife came out and he swiftly cut your binds holding your right leg and folded it over to make you that much tighter. You could feel him that much more. And just like that, as Bucky’s cum shot deep inside of you, you came around him, walls greedily clenching to take as much of him as you could, pulling him deeper.

Bucky waited till your pussy stopped spasming around his cock before pulling away and spreading your legs once again to take in the sight of his cum leaking from you, kissing your calf that he rested on his shoulder before whispering, “Magnificent.”

A blush erupted along your chest before your lips parted in the shape of an o as he prodded your folds with his still hard cock, “Think you can take more for me, my little shlyukha?”

You bit your lip before nodding yes. You couldn’t help it, how desperate you were to please him. Bucky sank back into you, leaving your leg resting on his shoulder. You were cockdumb, fucked out of your mind. Bucky brought you back to attention by slapping your breasts three times each. The blood had collected in them with the way he tied the harness, making them far more sensitive. You barely strung your words together, “M…s’okay. I c”

Your body shuddered with more pleasure before you could finish, -”can ta…take it daddy.”

Bucky asked you, curious, “Take what, my little shlyukha?”

“All of it”- your eyes rolled to the back before slowly coming back to focus on him, his dark blue eyes giving you something to fixate upon -”all of you.”

At that, a string of curses escaped Bucky as he bottomed out inside of you, cumming again. The warmth of him was comforting. It gave you a sense of fullness even after he pulled out from you. He took his knife out once more and dragged it along your skin before cutting away the ropes that created the harness, and then the remaining leg, and then your wrists. Softly, he commanded you, “Stay. Please. I’d…I’d like to take care of you, now. If that’s alright.”

You breathed softly as you regained your senses, “Yes, I’d…I’d like that.”

Slowly he stripped down to match your nudity, and your eyes lingered on the angry scars around his vibranium prosthetic. Steve had told you about it, certainly, but you didn’t expect the damage to still seem so recent. You sat up, despite his wishes, and slowly leaned forward to kiss the scarred tissue.

Bucky pulled at your hair, yanking your head back before you had the chance, and you cried out at the unexpected pain, “You didn’t listen, you fucking whore.”

He led you by your hair, pulling at the very roots, until he slammed you against the wall nearest your bedroom and thrust into you roughly. You cried out and he kept saying the same thing over and over, “I am in control. I am in control. I am in control you fucking shlyukha.”

His flesh hand wrapped around your throat and began to squeeze, breathing coming with difficulty. A gasp escaped you and you slowly lost consciousness just as Bucky finished inside of you again. And just like that, he scooped you up and unceremoniously tossed you on your bed still dripping with his cum. He let out an anguished scream, fist leaving a hole in your wall and tears threatening, before quickly getting dressed and leaving.

At least he had the decency to lock your door for you.

#bucky x you #steve rogers x you #dark!bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #no y/n

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buckyscombatboots · 2 years

Text

Monstertober Day 2:

My Legacy

Pairing: Orc!Bucky x Captured!Reader

Warnings: Non con→Dub con, Dead dove: Do not eat, insults/degrading language, forced breeding, forced impregnation, drastic size difference, belly bulge, blood mention, virgin!reader, hair pulling, cowgirl→mating press, dacryphilia, dark!bucky, threat of violence, aphrodisiac

Nicknames: Tiny, little one, cum slut

Word count: 2.4 k

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This has been long awaited, I know everyone loves Orc!Bucky, me too honestly. Enjoy.

A colossal, herculean man loomed over you, he was built from slabs of muscles that shifted under his thick layers of green skin. His bulging forearms, decorated with tribal tattoos, half concealed by a pair of tanned leather bracers, lined with fur; the designs carved into the leather matched his ornate iron pauldrons, slightly covered by the reddish-brown pelt of a direwolf, and the only thing covering his lower half was a loin cloth attached to a metal belt adorned with his tribe’s insignia. His eyes narrowed in a scowl, but despite this you could see his golden eyes, with flecks of amber and a vertical slit for a pupil—reminiscent of a cat's eyes. They were trained on you, hunched between the cart and barrels “How unfortunate Tiny. Should have hid better than that.” His meaniscing tone sends a ripple of goosebumps across your skin, a scream bubbles up to your throat and dies there as he reaches out for you. You scramble away from his enormous juniper hand, the lighter skin of his palm filling your vision before he opts for grabbing you by the waist and pulling you out “Gods above I can smell chu ‘ittle one. You’re terrified out your tiny little brain, but you're still so wet for me. If you play nice, I won’t have to hurt chu.” You consider chomping down on the web of skin connecting his thumb and forefinger, but Orcs are known for their tough skin, you decide not to. You stare up at the monster before you through your long lashes, tears streaming down your cheeks “Good, Tiny human. My true name is too complicated for your kind to understand or pronounce, so you can call me Bucky. I am War chief of this clan of Orcs, it will do you well to listen or I’ll pass you to the others. They ain’t too kind to little tiny girls like chu.” He begins to walk with you, pushing you to his beefy chest like a mother holding a baby close, your hands grab for purchase at the direwolf pelt strung across his shoulders; the feeling of the fur in your hands and the familiar scent brings you solace as he carries you over to a large group of orcs, one with blonde hair turns towards Bucky smiling with his tusks on full display, you cower at the sight—you know exactly what those tusks can do, you’ve watched them tear people like parchment “Steve, I’m going to head back to camp with a small group. You stay here. Kill any survivors, pillage whatever’s left, return by nightfall.” The Orc named Steve nods and replies in a strange serious of grunts, to which Bucky also replies in the same manner. They he’s walking again, he stops infront of an orcish warhorse—specially breed to be taller and stronger than normal horses to with stand the sheer size of the orcs— then he climbs on with you held in one arm

“Where are we going?” You whisper near his ear

“To your new home ‘ittle one.”

The ride back to the camp isn’t a long one, you slept for most of it as your adrenaline finally died down or you’d fallen into a state of shock. At this point you had no idea. When you awoke you’d arrived at what he called ‘your new home’ There were countless Orcs, they barely used any of their troops to conquer your village. The feeling of hopelessness rose in you once again.

“‘ere we are, Pet. Home sweet home.” He got off the horse and handed the reins off to another orc to be taken care of. He spoke to the orc bostriously with enthusiasm, smiling so wide you thought one of his tusks would like your eye out. Then he strode off decisively through the thicket of tents. He was taking you home, to his home. Not yours. He burnt yours down, he murdered your family. You hated the fact that seeing him smile and talking so happily, despite you being unable to understand what he was saying, made you happy. His attitude was contagious.

You approached a tent that was much larger than the others, it was also dyed a faded black compared to the other plain tents. It had two lit torches on each side of the pegs keeping it up and on the tent door was the same insignia that was on his belt, but this was painted in red—the colour of blood which he was so accustomed to spilling. You had to hate him, you needed to hate him.

He pushed aside the cloth entrance revealing a very spacious tent decorated in a sporadic manner with a large table that had a map splayed on its surface, your eyes shot down to all the red markers on it. One was on your village. They had planned this and nobody knew, fresh tears welled up in your eyes and you bit your wobbling lip, but a whimper still slipped. “This is your new home princess,” he wiped the tears from your eyes with one of his thick green fingers “so don’t cry anymore. It’s all gonna be okay. If you listen, everything will be fine. Now,” he placed you on the ground and walked over to a pile of things in the corner. He turned to face you before pulling out a shotel from behind him, but this shotel was the largest one you’d ever seen; the blade was unbelievably sharp, it was obvious that he’d spent hours sharpening, cleaning and customising it. Your legs collapsed beneath you as he pointed the curved blade at you, the point resting below your chin. Tears leaked from your eyes like a flowing river, you let out a whine as he hoovered it so close to your skin that you could feel the coolness of the blade “Move and I’ll cleave your skull in half. Understood?” Your vision shook as you meet his steely glare

“Y-yes.” You blubbered, he removed the blade and pulled out a chair from the long oaken table. The chair was much larger than a normal chair, obviously hand made for orcs by orcs—no scratch that, handmade for him. The chair was even bigger than all the others, it was made for Bucky, it was made for the war chief who towered above even other orcs. He plopped down in it, the twine holding it together creaking under his substantial weight, and opened his legs slightly clapping his massive bejeweled green hands down on his muscular bulging thighs.

“Come ‘ere little one. Sit on my lap.” He commanded, spinning the shotel on its blade on the hard packed dirt next to him. When you sat frozen, on the floor, he raised the blade towards you “I know you ain’t deaf. I don’t like repeatin’ myself.” You pressed your hands either side of your thighs and pushed yourself to your feet, your legs shook as you stumbled over. He extended out a massive green hand, you took it noting how your hand could only wrap around two of his fingers. Your line of sight travelled down to his dick. It was huge. Straining against the thin fabric of his loincloth. Straining so much that you could see all its features; dark green with lighter sections of skin, ribbed, with a thick gold ring pierced through the thin skin just under the head. There was no way he’d fit.

He helped you climb onto him, practically pulling you up by your arm which was dwarfed in his grasp. You straddled his lap, sat right in front of his bulging cock. Once you were in place he undid the opulent belt keeping the loin cloth in place and pulled. With one swift movement the belt and the loin cloth were both removed and thrown to the ground. His member was now on full display; girthy, long and definitely not able to fit inside you. You paled at the sight of it throbbing and leaking “It won’t fit!” You cried, attempting to run. He grabbed your arm just before you fel to the ground and pulled you back in place. You struggled against him, floundering like a fish drowning on land “Please! Anything else! You’re gonna kill me!” His hand clasped around your face as he reached back with his free arm and came back with a hefty glass bottle filled with a shimmering clear liquid.

“Breath, Pet. I ain’t expecting it to fit in you without a little help, little one.” He uncorked it with one hand and finally removed his hand from your mouth, you relished in the woodsy scent. He poured a generous amount on his hand “Take yer clothes off. Or I’ll rip ‘em off.” He ordered sternly, you met his gaze. His cat eye pupils had blown wide, filled with lust and need. You obliged, stripping off your dirty, torn clothes that smelt heavily of smoke. You swallowed your vomit as you recollected the state of your village.

His huge green hand began slathering the liquid on your pussy, it was warm. The heat coming off of the orc had heated it in such a short period of time, your eyes met his cock again. The heat of it was slightly darker green with a bluish cast, his balls were heavy and full. Your mouth was almost watering. You were pulled from you from your blatant ogling from the sting of a finger being inserted inside you. You yelped, grabbing at his thick wrist with your small hands “It hurts!” You yowled, beating at his calloused palm with your fist, he began moving his finger and the pain slowly melted into pleasure. You hummed at the heat filling your belly “Mhmn.”

“You’re a virgin aren’t you little one, there’s blood.” He cooed, slipping another finger. Which your quivering hole gladly took. You nodded slowly, whimpering as he stretched you, scissoring his fingers “Were gonna fix that. The Oil is enchanted, it should help you be able to take me, it’s also an aphrodisiac.” His words swam in your mind becoming almost meaningless as you pushed back on his fingers until you met his rings at the base of his thick, lengthy fingers.

Suddenly he pulled his fingers out, you whimpered at the loss humping his thigh for friction. You needed more. You wanted Bucky in you “Buck. Want you in me.” You mewl, grinding your sensitive bud down on the thick skin of his thigh

“Gladly.” He lifts you as if you weigh nothing and holds you above his dick, smiling coyly at your lopped sided grin and hazy eyes before slamming you down on his fat cock. The pain momentarily breaks your gaze but then the overwhelming feeling of his humongous prick filling your insides. Your hands travel to the bulge in your stomach, running your hands over it. Marvelling at it as he thrusts in and out. The meaty slaps of Bucky bouncing you roughly up and down on his lap filled the tent, more likely than not the sound was spilling outside. You didn’t care, right now you didn’t have the liberty to think much at all with his fat cock muddling up your insides. Your tongue fell dumbly out your mouth as you dribbled mumbling and moaning with every harsh thrust “That’s it, Pet, go dumb on my massive Orc cock. Never gonna want a human after this, they can’t fill you up like an orc. How pathetic. You deserve an Orcs cock to bring you this. Much. Pleasure.” He punctuated his words with his thrusts, bashing your cervix each time. You threw your head back in a silent wail, digging your nails into his large pecs as you relished in the orgasm that wracked your body. Constricted his cock, drawing a deep, primal grunt from his core “Yes! Come! Come as many times as you want pet, soak my cock in your juices my little cockslut. Gonna get you pregnant, gonna paint you fucking tight little slut hole with my seed. Gonna watch you swell with my children. Take it.” He groaned slamming into you with a new found vigour, picking you up as he stood.

You barely even registered him laying you on the bed until he pushed back your knees, resting them near your ears. You thought it impossible but he dick managed to nestle itself even further inside of you. An electric shock ran through your body as you came again, the pleasure being tears to your eyes as his thrust became more erratic, more powerful. His face loomed above yours staring intensely into your eyes “Gonna make you a mother, Tiny. You want to be the mother of my children? You want to grow with my child? You want to birth My Legacy?” He asked, “Answer me.” He demanded pounded into your cunt, his balls smacking against your ass, twitching, as he pushed down on your bent knees.

“Yes! Make me a mommy!” You cried, squeezing around him as he came inside you, he continued to thrust as he shot ropes and ropes of cum into you. Your stomach swelling with the sheer amount of spend shooting from his spasming tip.

“Ah feels so fucking good. Look at you, your body can barely contain my cum.” He chuckled, huffing, sweat glistening on his forehead as he littered your reddened face, ruined with tears and spit with passionate open mouth kisses.

“Felt good, wanna nap.” You yawned, your body tremouring from the overstimulation, your clit puffy and sensitive as his pelvis pressed into you enrolling you completely, blocking out almost all the light in the tent.

A hearty chuckle emerges from him, the sound fills your ears making more slick drip from your cunt onto his cock still buried in your overflowing pussy “Oh, we ain’t done yet, Pet. Gotta make sure you’re nice and pregnant, gonna fuck ya till I make ya look pregnant; so everyone knows who you belong to, that I have claimed you and that they can never touch you. ‘Cause you’re gonna have my babies, I’ll keep you filled and wanton on my cock ‘cause we Orcs mate for life after all, Tiny, and I’ve chosen you to be the bearer of My legacy.”

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