#dark bucky x reader
What about a dark! violent bucky that wants reader to be his girlfriend? But things just don't go well, if you know what I mean 😈
Just Love Me
╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗
First off, thank you for your request! I also want to say that requests are open, even though it might take some time for them, but it makes me happy! Anyway, here you go!
Summary: reader tries to tell Bucky he's just not the boy she loves. And that hurts, a lot... for both.
Warnings: violence descriptions, verbal violence, implied noncon, ripped clothing, anxiety, lot of angst, maybe reader being a little bit naive, past implied somnophilia, language. Only +18, minors do not read. If you do not feel safe with this, please don't read.
I appreciate a lot feedbacks, so please tell my what you think about this, reblog or like. <3 Also, thank you so much for 150 followers. I'm happy with that, it makes me happy that people enjoy my writing! <3.
╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝
It was all that simple. You worked at Stark Industries as a simple worker, no big deal, but you also met the avengers from time to time. You had noticed early on that the newcomer, whose name was Bucky, seemed completely out of place. It probably wasn't like that in the eyes of others, especially those of his best friend, Steve: the weeks went by, but you didn't think his situation was improving. He had terrible dark circles and you knew what it was like to have a bad period, although judging from what he had been through and what you read in the papers, his was much more than a bad or long period. It was a whole life wasted, or rather, spent being someone else.
He must have been terrible, and no matter how terrible he had done, you basically couldn't feel the same contempt or terror that others did. If you had gone back in time, you probably would have slapped yourself on the head before allowing you to shyly approach him with a coffee. It was there that it all began.
And it was so beautiful. You didn't see Bucky at all as a lover or someone who could stand by your side like that, but it melted your heart to know how your friendship was slowly bringing him to the surface and getting some oxygen. You were so happy about it, he deserved it. And Bucky on the other hand, was amazed: he didn't think he'd ever get a second chance. Because that was what it was in his eyes, a second chance for him, a new life with you.
He tried to make you understand by bringing you your favorite hot drink every morning at work, or by specifically choosing movies at the cinema to make you relax a little and get away from all the stress that was gripping you: for him they were all dates, and it seemed to confirm the way in which you dressed. God, you were so pretty, so gorgeous in that dress of yours. It had that color that simply gave you and made your skin stand out even more, and especially that look of yours.
Bucky simply loved your eyes, he loved that purity and at the same time the awareness of an established career woman moving forward. You were admirable, and Bucky grew more and more impatient with it. But he still remembered how to treat girls, he had never really forgotten: he simply thought that all that repertoire of niceties and compliments would no longer serve him. This has changed, and all with you.
It was the turn of the cinema on Friday night, and you brought a new dress. A few weeks earlier you had even confronted him before buying it: it was a choice between a more classic dress, with narrow straps that made your shoulders and breasts stand out a lot, and a simple red dress that is wider and longer. Bucky recommended the first one, pointing out how it makes your shapes perfect. That was his first flirting gamble, what you had actually mistaken for a simple game. And that was one of your many mistakes with Bucky Barnes.
You happily smiled at him as you paid for your share of popcorn and soda, at which he frowned slightly. You shouldn't have paid at all, in fact he would have even preferred you to stop working: your job was exaggeratedly stressful for a beautiful lady like you. Bucky didn't like it, but then a thought flashed through his head and he suddenly calmed down. After all, there was still little. Only a little and you would have been officially his after all this series of dates. Not that Bucky didn't love them, oh at all, but... he wanted something more. He wanted to feel you under him, he wanted to hear the same low moans you made while touching yourself, the same ones he heard when he stood outside the window watching you. He wanted to taste you best when awake, and not asleep from sleeping pills. He wanted to do so many things to that beautiful body of yours.
"Here we go?" you asked shyly, and then follow him like a puppy to the right room of the cinema. You found that funny and beautiful movie. Bucky didn't care, he thought he already had the best movie of his life right in front of him, and it was your beautiful sight. You had captured his heart, and now he would have captured you.
You got sick for some reason that night and Bucky insistently offered to stay home with you. You didn't find this necessary at all, but having your best friend make you hot tea to relieve the pain was always better than being alone in your bed and moaning in pain, wasn't it? That was how it all began.
"Listen, I should... uhm... talk to you." Bucky murmured in embarrassment shortly after you took a sip from your cup. You were already feeling those cramps getting milder and in that moment you mentally thanked him for the idea of tea, but all your gratitude was then replaced by curiosity. Bucky hardly ever had any news.
Your gaze suddenly brightened, and you immediately set your shoulders straight, almost as if at attention. Bucky liked that movement, but only because it still accentuated your cleavage. God, you were such a mockery of him. But he couldn't get excited, no, he was declaring himself. Finally. But he was convinced that everything would be fine.
"I have a person who, well, is always in my head. I always think about her, and I would like to find a way to-"
"Who is she?" you asked almost screaming with excitement and climbing over the table, then calmed down and sat down. You giggled softly and your face burned with embarrassment, but it was fucking news! Did Bucky like anyone? How long had he been hiding it from you? Your mind was traveling through so many of those frontiers, that you forgot how naive you really could be at times.
"That's the point." Bucky said, slightly irritated. He wanted to make a speech about how he found you gorgeous when you shyly offered him that coffee, about how you helped him get his life back. About how he wanted to make you his wife. But it didn't matter, the emotion on your face made him so happy. You also knew deep down.
You slowly stopped giggling, watching his face turn more and more into a joyful one. There, you heard an alarm bell. You felt a knot in your stomach and suddenly his throat went dry, despite all the tea he had drunk. Bucky noticed the look on your face, and that's when the first red flag went up.
In short, it was not possible. He lived for you, fuck, he would kill for you. It was not possible that you did not love him. You had to love him, he wanted you so much. No, maybe you had been making fun of him all this time? Oh, it wasn't possible. You were so sweet, caring, sensitive. He knew you through and through, except for your body, although there would be time for that.
You slowly got up, still feeling that knot that was now upsetting you more and more and your happy expression has definitely fallen. "Bucky... who is she?" you asked again, one last safe place. That you would never have achieved.
"It is you." he simply murmured. It was as if that knot had suddenly burst, releasing an extraordinary amount of anxiety in your veins that went straight to your brain. You swallowed loudly, trying to keep the situation under control. Where did you go wrong? Were you wrong?
"Bucky..." you muttered softly, trying to reason. That move was completely wrong and Bucky didn't want to hear from you. He wasn't right anymore, he had already made his choice of him a long time ago. You got up from your chair and tried to start a speech that was worth it, that didn't hurt.
You immediately fell silent at his tone. It was stiff, severe, icy. For the first time in your life, you were afraid. Fear of him, fear of your own home, of those eyes that not even an hour ago were looking at you so sweetly. Now they were completely aggressive and his jaw was stiff with anger.
With a slight shake in your hands, you slowly tried to sit down. You also briefly thought about running for the door, but you had to calm that anxiety. It was that and nothing more, while Bucky was Bucky. There was no way he was going to hurt you.
"Look, I'm sorry but I... I don't feel this for you. I love you, but how I love a friend. Bucky, you really are a special person and I'm sure you'll find someone, but it's not me." you soon realized how these words had pierced him like ice blades, one by one. But it was not a simple speech and you wanted to be clear. Bucky continued to watch you as he put his hands together and played a little with his thumbs, but you knew better. He had done so only once, when a mission went wrong and they lost the lives of civilians. It was a bad week, but for that, you thought there would be more than a week.
You saw his jaw twitch and a small smile adorn his face. But that scared you: his expression was totally illegible. And that anguish only increased.
He sighed heavily, then rubbed his hands and stood up, as if nothing had happened. He took the cup from your hands and put it in the sink, then turned to you. It was the same expression of a few hours ago, of the cinema, of all those innocent releases. You looked at him with a frown and a fear that you could no longer hide.
"Do you still have those pains? This time maybe we can try some massage." he said simply. You got up with extraordinary slowness and your legs were shaking slightly.
"Bucky... were you listening to me?" you asked hesitantly, and your voice was extraordinarily thin.
You saw his lips twitch slightly and his fists close, until his knuckles turned white. "Yes, honey. The point is, I don't think you listened to me instead." his voice became even stiffer and sterner than that command before.
You moved the chair only to get away from her figure, which now did nothing but increase the tremor in his hands. You knew something was terribly wrong, and her next sentence confirmed it.
"You are that person, and I never asked you if you wanted to be by my side or not. Because you will just be there. You are mine."
Bucky was perhaps having a dark moment, perhaps the soldier had taken control. Your brain created every possible scenario to justify the man before your eyes, but that calculating and lucid look said it best. Without further ado, you darted to the front door right in front of the living room. You mentally thanked yourself for taking off your heels as soon as you arrived. You only had time to remove the first chain from the door that two strong arms firmly grabbed your waist, only to have your back slam directly on the table.
The air was thrown out of your lungs and tears pooled in your eyes from the pain. But the anxiety, that did the even dirtier job of making you tremble uncontrollably. You had lost control of your body and you kept your eyes wide open on the figure of Bucky imposing itself on yours.
"I did every fucking thing to make you realize how much I loved you. You know, how it worked in my day? Maybe it was my fault, maybe I didn't explain myself well enough," he started mumbling things that didn't make any sense to you. , but you didn't notice when you felt the hand on your shoulder pads. You started screaming, only to get a slap.
You were briefly silent, hearing only the sound of the cloth being ripped from your body. Did Bucky, the same man you know, slap you? You already felt a bruise forming on that same spot. But that wasn't enough to stop you, even though your fight was pathetic against him.
"I did everything for you, the way you liked it, because I love you. I loved you from the fucking moment you offered me that coffee, I loved you when you worried about me and when you told me to take care of me!" he began to scream furiously, ending with your dress now reduced to a rag.
You desperately started sobbing and looking at him pitifully, hoping your Bucky would return. But instead of him there was a furious and violent man. It wasn't Bucky.
"I tried to make you understand," he came dangerously close to your face, letting locks of hair fall on your forehead, "but maybe times have changed and I'm still out of place. Maybe, I should do like today? make you mine and fuck you now? "
Your fight stopped abruptly and an expression of pure shock, succeeded by that of terror, accumulated on your face.
"Bucky, please, I was wrong. I was wrong, please, let's start over, please-" you started begging him, but all he did was shake his head and giggle at your little inner struggle.
"Let's start over now baby, can't you see? Let's start over, and this time I won't have a fucking no for an answer." he whispered slowly in your ear as his hands reached first your bra and then your panties. Your last defense barriers, go.
You screamed one last time, and unexpectedly managed to kick him straight in the ribs. You didn't care about your complete nudity, you knew he expected you worse if he caught you again. Bucky dodged briefly, surprised by the attack. Your still trembling body headed for the door and you almost succeeded. That anguish pressed you that everything would be bad, if not worse, but your mind was screaming freedom.
Maybe, in retrospect, you should have given up first. You felt a firm grip on your hair and the air was slammed out of your lungs again as Bucky slammed you right on the door. He had an arrogant smile adorning his face.
Wait, was this bastard enjoying your miserable fight?
His once reassuring smile now only made you tremble even more and scream in fear. You wanted to have felt that fear right away, but it was too late. His lips collided roughly on yours and Bucky managed to bite them several times as punishment. When you refused to cooperate, it was enough for him to put his vibranium hand right around your neck, and squeeze it tightly. You were asking for oxygen again and fighting desperately against him, already seeing black dots in your vision.
Meanwhile, you obscenities noticed how his other hand touched places he was not allowed to touch, which he had never been able to touch. And now he was savoring them so well with tight bruises, one after the other.
"If you don't cooperate, then you can also faint. I can do everything even without your cooperation, after all I've already done it." that sentence made your stomach turn and the bile rise.
"O-Okay." you nodded weakly and his throat was scraping more and more. He let you go, only to catch you in another cruel kiss and not get your breath away. Bucky managed to take everything he had dreamed of: his second chance with you. He was sure you would love him, with some little teaching.
15 notes · View notes
𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍
𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?
𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.
ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ
SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST
“For how long?” You almost woke Iris up with your temper. The little girl had cried herself to sleep.
“Calm down! Don’t worry, just listen to me. Sam will bring you to my house. Once you are here you don’t have to worry.”
“Steve, for how long are you making Sam follow me? He literally is my neighbor. Not even in my wildest dream did I think he would be working for you!” If Steve was in front of you now, you would’ve punched him.
“We will talk when you come here. I’ll answer all your questions. Just come home.”
You wanted to ask a million questions at least but you decided talking face to face would be better. “Ok.”
“I’m waiting. Bye.” You clicked the phone shut and handed it to Sam.
“What do you think all those useless hospital visits were for?” Sam gave you a smirk and you shook your head.
“Since college. Steve! Are you kidding me?” You punched his bulging bicep and he pretended to be hurt. You were sitting on the couch in your room as Rissie slept peacefully on the bed.
You didn’t believe your eyes as you walked in Steve’s house, or rather mansion. This one was bigger than the one he lived as a high schooler and that only meant one thing, he had expanded his ‘business’.
Steve had prepared an entire room just for you and another for Iris. But you weren’t going to let your child sleep away from her mom in the house of a gangster. What didn’t sit right with you was the way the room was decorated. It was as if he knew all your choices and likings. Well, he did know everything about you, didn’t he?
“What? I had to make sure you were okay!” Steve said with such nonchalance that you thought for a second whether stalking someone was legal now.
What Steve loved was that you weren’t friends separated by time, no, right now you were best friends as if all those years hadn’t passed.
“Steve..., what about... what about the man...?” For a second Steve didn’t catch on to what you were saying. “What man?” You visibly gulped, “the man Bucky killed. There would be a trial. And I would have to go to the courthouse. I don’t...” you couldn’t hold in much longer and you cried your eyes out. You wanted to ask about Bucky, but you couldn’t take anymore of heartbreak.
“Shh, it will be fine. The man was a homeless drug addict. No one would ask for him. Him going missing wouldn’t be a big deal. I’ll handle everything.” He said with such a ruthlessness that it scared you. A man had died. It didn’t matter if he was homeless or a senator. All that mattered was, a life was lost. This quality and the moral compass of yours had made you one of the finest doctors.
As you cried, you covered your eyes with your hands and pathetic sobs left your body. Steve hesitantly pulled you close and your body instinctively relaxed in his warmth. He held you close and whispered sweet nothings into your ears.
You cried for all the precious things you had lost and all the unwanted information you had gained. You wished you hadn’t cleaned your house that day, that you hadn’t seen those videos of what Bucky or the Soldat was capable of. You wished you had been more vigilant today and hadn’t let that man enter. You wished you had noticed James in your house earlier. You wished you had been smart enough to understand Sam’s intentions.
Thriller was your favorite genre but it didn’t mean your life was supposed to be a thriller! Lost in your thoughts you didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep on Steve.
Steve slowly tilted your head as he felt the sobs receding and started hearing soft snores. He saw you were fast asleep. Your eyelashes and cheeks were drenched and so was half of his shirt, but he didn’t care for it. He noticed the imprint his button his left on your cheek while your face had been buried in his embrace and he winced.
He soothingly rubbed his thumb over the imprint and gave himself a victory smile. He gently picked you up bridal style and laid you on the bed. He tucked you under the blanket and pecked your forehead. He finally had you, and he wasn’t going to ever let you go.
It was dinner time when Steve opened the door. He had knocked but there wasn’t any response. So, he sneaked in the room to find both you and Iris sleeping. He had to agree Iris was a smart and adorable girl. She had taken all the right features of her parents.
He kneeled beside your side and softly placed a hand on your face. “Wake up.” He slowly shook you and you opened your eyes, they were bloodshot red from all the crying. He hoped that every day he would be the one to wake you up from now on.
“Hey! Oops, how long has it been? When did I fall asleep? God, I’m so sorry...” you started rambling. “Don’t be sorry. I just woke you up to tell you that dinner’s ready.” He gave you a smile and you wondered how people resisted throwing themselves at Steve.
“I’m.... you know what? I am very hungry. I’ll wake Rissie up and we’ll come down.” He nodded and got up to leave. You quickly held his arm and stopped him right in his tracks. He thought he should probably warn you not to touch him like this; you had no idea what effect you had on him.
“I just wanted to tell you how thankful I am. I was such an idiot. I was so lost in my own thoughts I didn’t even thank you. I don’t know what to do or how to express it, but Thank you so so very much!” You were almost about to cry again but Steve stopped you.
“Hey! You don’t need to thank me at all. I’m your best friend and that’s what friends are for, right?” You wanted to ask him whether you were really still friends, but you refrained. You smiled and nodded your head.
You slowly woke Iris up by pressing kisses to her face. She had seen things that no child should see. She needed your reassurance and your support. You need to be strong; not for yourself but for her. And you suddenly realized you both were alone, all alone in this entire world. All you had was each other.
“Wake up, Love.” You said as you kissed her forehead. “Mom?” She rubbed her eyes and they hauntingly reminded you of Bucky. “Where are we?” She asked pouting. “We are at my friends place.”
At that she smiled “We are with uncle Thor?” Iris adored Thor. “No, we are at my other friends place. You don’t know him, but I’ll introduce you. He is a good man, but promise me Rissie you’ll behave.” She nodded her head furiously, “I promise.”
“Mom, what about dad? Where is he? Is he okay? He is always so cool with his metal arm but today he scared me. He looked like a superhero in those clothes though.” He probably was a supervillain you thought to yourself.
“I don’t know where he is. And today he scared me too. But listen to me Iris. Why don’t we play a game? It’s only you and me. We don’t trust anyone else except the two of us. Not dad, not Steve, not Sam, not Thor. Nobody. Just the two of us. If you want to share something you come to me. If someone calls you, even if it’s dad, you won’t go without my permission, ever. You stay with me and I stay with you. Pinky promise?”
“Pinky promise mom. I love you.” She said so innocently that you wanted to cry, but you had to hold yourself, “I love you too. And I promise you I’ll keep you safe, my brave tiger. Did momma tell you how proud she is of you? What you did today saved both our lives. And I’m sooo proud of you.” You bombarded her with million kisses and she attacked you with a billion.
When you both headed downstairs you were met with twice the number of people you expected. And Steve introduced you to each one of them. Tony was the lawyer and kinda the brains behind everything; Clint was his left-hand man; Sam, Vision and Bruce were some of his most trusted men. Wanda was his wife, who he had made very clear he married for business. What Steve didn’t tell you about though, was his son, George. He was around Iris’s age and a little taller than her. You would be lying if you said that the boy wasn’t cute.
You all had dinner while they engaged you in small talk. All the dishes were your and Rissie’s favorites. And you suspected that it was on purpose but you didn’t complain. What you didn’t appreciate though were the looks thrown towards you by Wanda. It felt as if it were up to her, you would be dead by now. And while the others treated you with respect and love and made you feel as if you sat on this table every day; one person wasn’t impressed by you, Vision. You pushed the thought aside thinking that maybe, he was just awkward.
As you finished the dinner, you thanked everyone; especially Sam. You were mad at him, but you weren't ungrateful. Iris and George had already become friends and he took her to see his toy collection. Seeing his toys, Iris missed her home. She missed the toys her mom used to impulsively buy and her dad would bring home for her from around the world. But George assured her that she could play with them whenever she wanted.
Steve left a little early as his work called. You talked with Sam for a few more moments and then finally collected Rissie and headed upstairs. Someone had already kept clothes for you two on the bed. You supposed they belonged Wanda and George. After you both changed and freshened up, you tucked Iris in and told her a bedtime story as she drifted off to sleep.
You tried your best but you couldn’t sleep. You were thirsty and desperately wanted water. And being the shy idiot you were, you had forgotten to ask for a bottle while coming upstairs. You wasted another half an hour debating whether to go to kitchen or not. It was almost midnight and it wasn’t your home for you to roam freely. Though they all seemed friendly and kind, you hadn't forgotten they were all a part of a crime syndicate.
But your throat became too dry and you gathered your courage and slipped out of your room. You made your way to the kitchen and let out a loud breath, till now nothing had wrong yet. As you headed back to your room, you heard loud moans coming from another guest room. You couldn’t care less. You thought it must be one of those guys and some maid. But what did stop you were the names they were moaning. It wasn’t any maid; it was Wanda. And the worst of all was that the man wasn’t Steve; it was Vision.
You quickly ran from there. You had absolutely zero interest in getting entangled among all their internal stuff. Tomorrow morning you were going to pack your bags and leave. You didn’t want Iris and yourself to be stuck in this jungle. But now you were confused. Should you tell Steve or should you not? He did tell you that he didn’t love her but he didn’t tell you if it was open marriage. And even if it was, did he know that she was banging one of his very own men?
You were drawn out of your thoughts when you saw Steve standing outside your door. He was softly knocking it as you approached him “I’m here, just went to get water.” you shrugged. “Are you okay? You seem flushed.” You nodded awkwardly while your internal monologue rambled, should I tell him, or should I not? “I'm fine. I just ran all the way up here. But forget that, what brings you here?”
"I just wanted to talk.”
23 notes · View notes
for @syntheticavenger challenge, how it started vs how its going.
Prompt: an engagement with bucky.
This is a dark fic and should be read at your own risk, you've been warned.
Warnings : stalking, possessiveness, drugging, buckys unhinged, murder, needles. Bit of non con touching. Allusions to noncon, Buckys a creep, bucky takes advantage of reader being drugged, 18+ read at your own risk.
Thankyou @nellblazer for helping me. Out with this, not tagging for this incase its not your thing.
what do you want to happen next? Let me know and I might make another 😉
he's asked you out several times
each time you said no
each time he got more frustrated
seeing you touch Steve on the shoulder, seeing you curl up with Clint on movie night, the times your laughter has carried from Bruce's lab late at night.
The thoughts swirled in buckys head, each one making him grit his teeth harder.
you were nice to him, you were nice to everyone, but him, it was different, he knew it was, you stayed up late with him when he had nightmares, you made his coffee just so.
"I love you" he whispered
You sat up from your bed in shock. Your eyes adjusting to the dark
"bucky what the hell?"
"I love you!" he said louder.
"bucky get out" your voice strained
"please y/n, please, don't you think we'd be happy together?!"
"Friday? Friday?" you called
The AI didn't answer
"I disabled her" his voice was rough
"Tony's gonna kill you, and so will I if you don't get the hell out of my room!!"
"I said OUT" you yelled
"fine" he huffed, slamming the door.
Your heart was racing, too scared to go back to sleep, you lay in the dark until the sun peeked through.
It was then you noticed the flowers next to your bed.
You got up, chucked them in the bin, then threw up.
How it started
the mission was an easy one, supposedly. you'd been trying very hard to not be left alone with him, he seemed to seek you out all the time, you tried being cold, being overly nice, being rude, and still, he persisted. You ended up spending most of your free time in Bruce's lab, it's the only place bucky wouldn't go. You should of told someone, you should of said something.
two hydra agents had come from nowhere, bucky took one, you fought the other, he was subdued easily, not before you felt a little stab in your leg though, causing you to stutter and fall back.
"y/n!" bucky cried, snapping the hyrda agents neck, with ease.
"Hey what happened"
"I- I um" your eyes were blown wide, wild, panicked, bucky could hear your heart beating, fast, too fast.
"guys I need help in here y/n is down, there's something, not right"
"were a bit busy right now buck! Well be there as soon as we can" Steve assured him.
Your eyes rolled back, head lolling to the side
"No doll, keep your eyes open for me, that's it" he clutched your face, he'd never been this close to you before, when you were awake at least.
"Barnes, what's going on?" Bruce's voice traveled to both your ears.
"I don't know, we were blindsided, and then, she just collapsed, there's um, there's a empty syringe next to the hydra agents"
"Okay, you need to keep her awake okay, I'll prepare an antidote while the others come and get you"
"did you hear that doll? You have to stay awake for me, come on, good girl"
Tears ran down your face as bucky stroked his thumb down it, the edges of your vision were blurring
"m-no, I-i m sleepy" you stuttered out
your brain wasn't working properly
add that to the fear you had of being alone with bucky
and the adrenalin pumping through you
your thoughts were not coherent
"were almost here buck"
"doll, stay with me, hey!" he slapped your face lightly a few times
"when we get outta here, we're gonna go out, on a date, like a proper one like in the 40s, and I'm gonna propose with the most beautiful ring you've ever seen, and you'll say yes, and me and you, will live happily, does that sound good doll,?" he swiped his thumb a cross a tear running down your cheek
you tried, you really did try, but before the blackness overtook you completely, your head moved in a nod.
"That's my good girl".
How it's going
pepper potts can't half plan a party.
she had designated herself as wedding planner and she was loving it.
Tony had moved the two of you to another room, big enough for two, view to die for. It was ready by the time you'd recovered from the drug.
Every night, you hold back a sob when he crawls into bed with you.
You try not to recoil when his arm reaches over
He feels you shake at night, he holds you tighter, whispering how it's all gonna be okay.
"I can't wait for you to be my wife" and you choke back a sob as his hands dance up and down your side.
You and bucky go tasting for wedding cakes, you agree to the first one that's slightly edible.
Steves excited that his best friend finally got the girl.
Clint is happy for you.
Sam has already bought his nephews suits for the wedding
Natasha and Wanda take you dress shopping.
There's one person who hasn't been seen since bucky announced your engagement.
Your dress hangs in a cover on the door, you stare at it with contempt.
"You know it's bad luck to spend the night before your wedding together" bucky spends the night with Steve, who takes him out for a night on the town.
The horrifying situation your in hits you full force.
Alls you have to do is stand up and open the door
if you can do that, your almost there
you could run. he'd find you.
instead, you make your way downstairs, socks making little noise on the floor.
The lights still on.
You take a deep breath before knocking and pushing open the door.
"Bruce?" your voice is soft, quiet
"y/n?" he takes off his glasses
"help" you sobbed.
21 notes · View notes
salvatore. | vi.
series summary. | Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in love anymore. Especially after the tragic, unknown death of his wife, Natasha. He thinks it’s stupid and a waste of time and- oh my. Hello there, you. There you were, with your notebooks and your novels, writing your heart away. He’s hellbent on saving you from this nasty world, his elusive neighbor that has him under the stupid spell of love. You soon find yourself trapped in a tragic love story with Bluebeard, not Prince Charming.
warnings. | NONCON/DUBCON, dark themes, manipulation, gaslighting, arguments, toxic relationships (reader and steve), cheating, nightmares, violent behaviour? (no actual hitting), spying, voyeurism, stalking, use of cameras, angst, fluff, soft!dark!bucky, protectiveness, obsessiveness, creepy bucky, perversion, + more. 18+, MINORS DNI.
word count. | 2.5k
pairings. | Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers.
a/n. | i know i haven’t updated in a while i’m really sorry!! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog!
“Doll, please calm down. You’re scaring me,” Steve begged, sitting on the bed. “How can I calm down, Steve? Huh? You only just came back, and now you’re going away again,” you spat, crossing your arms. Your stance was almost adorable, but Steve knew that if he made a comment, he’d just push you further away. He couldn’t let that happen. “Why can’t you ask for a vacation, Stevie? We haven’t done anything romantic since my birthday, and that was six months ago.” You turned your back to Steve, and he sighed.
“I’m sorry, Doll, but I have to go save the world,” he solemnly told you. His voice carried a faux sadness that shouldn’t even be there in the first place. “Bullshit, you have so many more people to do it. Sam, Wanda, Tony—don’t lie, Steve. Why are you going to Sydney? There’s no way you have to travel to another continent to mess up some sort of drug deal. Isn’t that what the police are for?” you questioned him.
Tears stung your eyes. They were ones of anger, but you couldn’t lie. In the midst of them, were sad ones ready to leak, too. Steve stayed silent. “For fucks sake, Steve, you can’t even give me an answer?” you asked in disbelief. You gasped as the tears began to fall. “I knew it, I knew it the whole time,” you whispered under your breath. “Knew what?” he asked, walking up to you. You backed up into the corner of the room.
“That you’re cheating on me,” you mumbled quietly. “What? Baby– no, listen.” He paused to take a deep breath, meant to calm his nerves down. “I don’t want to hear anything, Steve. I know about you and Natasha. All those trips? Those text messages? God, the only person I feel bad for is myself. How could I be so blind to it all?” you shook your head as you spoke. You walked around Steve’s strong figure and headed towards the door. “Where are you going?” He called out, following you behind.
“For some fresh air, I can’t handle this,” you yelled back, but Steve only sped his steps up. “You’re not leaving me, Doll,” he growled, stepping in front of you. “I never said I was, but now you’re tempting me,” you snapped back. “You’re not leaving me, Doll. You never can.” Steve gripped your shoulders tightly, and you winced in pain. “Even if you did, I’ll go to the ends of the Earth to get you back.”
Your eyes shot open. Gasping, you struggled to catch your breath. Your heart pumped like no tomorrow. Each time your chest raised to the highest point, you felt like you had a heart attack. You fell back onto your pillow, and you couldn't care enough about the slightly painful thud that came with it. Nightmares were never pleasant. Though they give amazing writing inspiration, they still were not nice.
Unfortunately, your nights seemed to be filled with them. Every time you fell asleep for the past week, you’d wake up in a panicky mode. At that point, you were okay with settling for a weird dream that resembled surrealistic art. Who wouldn’t want to have a Dali-inspired dream? You rubbed your eyes roughly and could feel the exhaustion in your every movement.
Your phone rang loudly. The sound made you jump in shock, and you reached to your bedside table for it. The screen read Bucky’s name, and you sighed. You answered the phone and brought it to your ear. “Hey, Bucky,” you croaked tiredly. He laughed, and you could hear the exhaustion in his voice. But the sound of tiredness differed from yours. “Did I wake you up?” he asked, and you moaned. “No, I just woke up,” you told him. “Why would you wake up at one in the morning, Doll?” he asked.
“Nightmare,” you breathlessly told him. You could swear on the daisy that began to bloom two weeks ago that you started to feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders. “Talk to me, Doll. Was it bad?” he questioned. “Yeah, it was worse than the previous ones.” You hadn’t even realized that you just spilled your secret. “You’ve been getting them for the past few nights? Doll– I’m so sorry, but you know you can always talk to me, right?”
His words were more reassuring than anything Steve ever said. “I know, it’s just… The nightmares—they’re very personal. You might not understand how scary they are. Plus, I don’t want to bother you,” you sheepishly admitted to him. He sighed heavily. “I understand, Doll, but you can never bother me, okay? I’m the one who’s supposed to feel that way, not you,” he chuckled, just to ease the tension.
“Now, I’m gonna be there in the next twenty minutes. Do you think you can sort yourself out by then?” he asked, and you started to stutter. “Uhm, sure, yeah, sure,” you agreed obediently. “Good girl, I’ll be there in a few.” And with that, he hung up. Your eyeballs bulged out of their sockets at those two words he uttered. Steve never said anything like that. He’d always just nod, even if you couldn't see it. You simply wrapped yourself in one of your most favourite blankets because changing seemed pointless to you.
There was no way he was not in pyjamas… right?
You turned the lamp on next to you before you could convince yourself that your chair was a monster. Your back was cold but also covered in sweat. You hated that feeling, and your mother always had the best way to describe it. “It’s like heating something in the microwave but failing nonetheless. The outside of it is warm, but the inside is still cold.” She’d tell you as she’d wipe down your back with a towel.
That was before everything went downhill. Before you turned thirteen and before she married him.
You sighed and got out of bed, willing yourself to put the kettle on. Maybe you’ll make some hot chocolate, or perhaps some tea… In your mind, twenty minutes always seemed like a long time. It sounded as though you could get quite a lot done in a third of an hour. The reality always felt like getting ice water poured on you as a method for waking up.
Unless your life was significantly put together, those one thousand and two hundred seconds are equivalent to five minutes. The ceramic lid for the jar clinked as you set it down on the counter. You grabbed two chamomile tea bags and closed the pot with a ‘ping!’. You grabbed two cups from the cupboard and then groaned loudly when you realized that you hadn’t turned the kettle on.
With a flick of your finger, you turned it on and leaned onto the counter. You sighed pretty loudly. Your head fell into the cup that your hands made, and you closed your eyes. You didn’t have a headache, and your eyes didn’t hurt either; you were just exhausted. You sighed once again, and the kettle clicked, telling you the water was done boiling.
Timing was everything, as always. And sometimes “timing” is just a coincidence, just like how Bucky rang the doorbell as soon as the water stopped boiling. You rubbed your eyes and walked to the door slowly, not caring that he may have been standing out there for thirty seconds too long. You opened it—not all the way—but wide enough for him to catch a glimpse of your tired form. “Hi,” he greeted, letting himself in.
Bucky looked around your home as if he was waiting for someone to round the corner with a knife and shotgun. “Nice place,” he said with an awkward smile on his face. “Thanks, even though our homes are formatted the same way,” you chuckled. He nodded, and then a few seconds after, he let out a forced laugh. You looked up at him and gave him a meek grin, and then went back to making the tea.
“I’m so glad I have two bags of chamomile left. It’s like the universe has decided to bless me again,” you breathlessly said. “What was the blessing before?” he curiously asked. “You.” You poured the hot water inside the cups, and then the bags of tea followed. “Honey or sugar?” you asked, and he pointed at the sugar. You passed it to him wordlessly, and the only sounds that filled the room were from your lungs and cups of tea.
“So… Do you want to talk about it?” he asked after a few more wordless moments. “S- sure, thank you once again! You’re so kind,” you sighed as you brought the cup of tea to your mouth. Bucky copied your movements, but just a bit slower. “It was about my ex,” you admitted once you set your cup down. Bucky struggled to keep his eyes from popping out of their sockets at your mention of him.
“It was so similar to an argument we had a few months before I broke up with him… The only difference was that he wasn’t as… terrifying. And yet he still scared me,” you solemnly spoke. Bucky stretched a hand across the counter and placed it on your shoulder. He pleasantly squeezed it a bit, and you were tempted to lean into his touch.
But you just can’t, because Steve is in the back of your mind, taunting you.
“What really happened in the dream?” he asked, and you took another sip of tea. “Well… We were fighting. He had to go away for a while, even though he just came back. He’d always do that; it’s what helped destroy our relationship. He valued his job over me, and also, someone else,” you sadly recounted. Bucky listened in carefully, because he wanted to help out his best girl in any way possible.
“I caught him in his lies because his excuses became so… Inexplicable. I always had that nagging feeling that he was cheating on me with his friend, his coworker. That argument confirmed everything. I couldn’t handle it all being true, so I tried to leave for a walk,” you paused to take a shaky breath. “He got angry and stopped me, and then he threatened me,” you bluntly finished.
Bucky was so glad that his hand was no longer resting on your shoulder because Goddamn was his fist clenched tightly. You brought the cup of tea up to your mouth, and Bucky just watched you as you diverted your eyes away from him. Once you set the cup down, Bucky grabbed your hands. In contrast, his were extremely hot, and yet the flesh one was dry. Yours were a bit cold, but they were soft and a bit dewy. You looked up at him, only to lock eyes.
“It’s just a dream, doll, okay? And it’s in the past, it won’t happen again, our minds can be crazy sometimes, so try not to worry about it,” he whispered lowly, bringing both of your hands up to his mouth. He pressed a kiss on both sets of your knuckles. You nodded softly, and you leaned down to press a kiss on his flesh knuckles in return. You smiled against his skin, even though it was bruised and slightly red. You wanted to ignore the weird feeling of his metal arm against your sweaty skin, but you couldn’t help it.
“Can- Can I do the thing to your metal hand?” you asked him, hopeful that he would say yes. Bucky nodded, with a slight smile on his face, of course. You closed your eyes and puckered your lips just a bit, pecking the metal. His breathing hitched, unbearably so. It was something he would always catch himself doing whenever he’d think about you or whenever he was simply just in your presence. You opened up eyes and looked back up at him, and you could see the way his eyes glazed over.
He let go of your hands abruptly, allowing them to fall onto the marble countertop. His fingers slotted themselves against your cheeks, and he grabbed your face gently. Bucky pulled you close to him, and he smashed his lips against yours. The kiss was messy, but it was full of passion. You kept your lips locked against his, and your fingers carded through his long hair. There was no other movement apart from the way Bucky kept trying to pull you closer and closer.
It was almost like he wanted to merge bodies, minds, and souls with you.
A few more seconds passed, and Bucky eventually pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours, and you exhaled a shaky breath. “Steve… His name is Steve, and I hate him,” you admitted to him, and Bucky kissed your nose. “And I hate him too, doll,” Bucky said before parting ways from you. There was a bit of tea left in his cup, but you had finished all of yours. “Get some rest, okay? Or just close your eyes for a bit. You need it,” he advised, and you nodded. “Thank you, Bucky. I really appreciate you being there for me,” you expressed to him.
“Anything for you, doll, now go tuck yourself in,” he urged once again before walking past you to the door. You placed the cups in the sink, and neither of you looked back at each other. You heard the door shut with a loud echo, and you sighed heavily. Maybe you were going to listen to him. Sleeping in isn’t that bad after all.
Bucky always believed that being vulnerable was stupid. He also believed that opening up was stupid. But, to be fair, he believed that anything involving emotions was stupid. But when it comes to you, he felt the opposite. Maybe vulnerability was good. Perhaps it was exactly where you needed to be for him to finally be able to love you.
And it was then when he realized that he hadn’t been loving you properly. He hadn’t been loving you the way he wanted to love Natasha, and that just ended up with her six feet deep with flowers growing above her body. He needed you, but you clearly needed him more than anything else. Bucky was desperate for you at times, of course, but you matter more to him than anything else.
Bucky looked down at his desk, staring at the single plane ticket that would take him all the way across the state of New York. He hadn’t been there in over a year, and that was when he first learned of Natasha’s promiscuity. Philandering around with his best friend, fucking said best friend in the most memorable locations he had taken her.
He honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if he found out that the reason why Natasha showed up to the wedding venue late was that she was too busy lifting up that poofy white gown for Steve. He thought that by emptying out Pandora’s box when she passed, everything would be okay. That he’d be able to move on without a care, and he wouldn’t have to shed any more tears for her. Bucky won’t. He promised himself he wouldn't.
He just had a few loose ends to wrap up before he made you his. That was all.
89 notes · View notes
War of Heart - 2.
(Dark)Prince!Bucky x Dark Fae!Reader AU
Run-through: The Prince had everything. Yet, he had to keep the one he loved more than life itself hidden away, deep within the woods. Because there was one major issue. You were a Dark Fae, and your kind and humans didn’t mix well - following a war which took place between magical beings and humans not long ago - so Bucky couldn’t bring you home, to his kingdom, at least not while his father was still the King. However, the Prince was willing to do whatever it took if it meant that you and him could be together forever, without having to hide your relationship. Bucky had grown up hearing that everything is fair when it came to war and the matters of the heart; and this was both. He would stop at nothing, he would do anything just so he can be with you. Anything.
Themes throughout the series: Prince!Bucky, smut, fluff, dark themes - death, manipulation, jealousy
You dreamt of blue eyes.
And roaming hands.
And sinfully pink, soft lips.
Your body felt burning hot. You needed him. Bad. You needed him like you needed air. “Buck…” you moaned as your back arched off the bed. His lips on your neck and his hands gripping your hips was all you could focus on.
With a slow, steady push, he slipped his cock into you. You shuddered, moaning as you felt all of him filling you up. You heard his ragged breaths as he seated himself completely inside you.
“You’re mine. All mine.” He spoke, looking down at you, and gently grabbing your face, causing you to look up at him.
You did, and all you saw was his intense eyes. Deep blue and captivating. You reached out to touch his cheek, and he leaned into your touch. “I’m yours.”
Bucky leaned in to kiss your swollen mouth, shamelessly shoving his tongue past your parted lips and stroking the inside of your mouth while he moved in and out of you with ease. He sped up gradually, rocking his hips against yours; his hand reached up to grab your chin gently. He stared into your eyes, speeding up into you. You gripped the bed sheets as he pounded into you. Your wings tucked beneath you felt the intensity of his thrust the most but the pleasure made up for the slight pain he was causing.
He stretched you out deliciously, perfectly. Filling you up and reaching all the right places as he went. He couldn’t hold back anymore, so he moaned and growled right against your mouth, clenching his jaw or occasionally biting down on your lip as he pounded into you relentlessly.
“You’re mine.” He growled, gripping your hips harder as he lifted one of your legs and hooked it to his waist, pushing himself deeper inside you. You both could feel the way your walls clenched violently around him, gripping his cock tightly.
You whined, begging pathetically and unable to form coherent words as you begged him for release. Your eyes were droopy in lust. His eyes were too as he stared down at you with a handsome and arrogant smirk on his face. Bucky caressed your cheek with his knuckles. “Go on, come for me...”
You woke up from the steamy dream feeling weirdly tense, and aware of your surroundings. You could immediately tell that something wasn’t right. You sat up in the middle of your bed and tied your robe tighter around your middle. You could tell by the amount of light in the room that the sun wasn’t up yet.
Then you heard the shuffling of leaves right outside your doorstep. Someone was here. But it couldn’t be Bucky because he never came over to see you so early in the morning.
The gentle knock on your door had your heart racing. You waited, frozen in place. If it were an intruder who wished to harm you they would barge right in, they wouldn’t bother knocking. You listened intently.
“Open up, it’s me.” You heard the familiar voice. One you’ve known since you were a child.
Upon hearing those words, you jumped out of bed and rushed to your front door. You opened the door rapidly and then let out a sigh of relief at the sight of dark green feathers. “Loki.” You were calm for just a moment before you panicked again. “If anyone sees you here again-,”
He cut you off, took a step forward and urged you to let him in. Once you closed the door, you turned to face him again. “Bucky knows you were here yesterday. You-,”
He cut you off again. “We have to leave. Right now.”
You stared at him. His facial expression was grave with worry. His eyes were just as alert as yours. “What are you talking about?” You asked, moving further into your home. You hoped some warm tea would calm him down, because he was clearly out of it.
“The guards are not on duty at the moment. Everyone is busy with the funeral at the palace, this is our one chance to get you out of here without being seen, or either of us being shot down this time.” Loki explained and you froze in place.
Funeral? “What funeral?” You asked, turning to face him.
Loki scoffed, “Haven’t you heard? The King’s dead. Didn’t your beloved Prince tell you that?” The hatred for Bucky was crystal clear in his bitter tone.
While Loki went on mumbling about how much of a terrible person the Prince was, your eyes drifted towards the shelf where you kept all your medicinal herbs and flowers. You searched for the bunch of blue flowers and noticed that some of them were missing.
Oh Bucky… What did you do?
You refused to believe so. There was no way Bucky could’ve… it couldn’t be. Before you could overthink any further, Loki was standing in front of you, holding you gently by the shoulders. “We need to leave. Now. This is our one chance to get you out of here.”
You couldn’t leave. “Loki, I- I can’t leave. I can’t, because...”
“You’re carrying his child.” Loki completed the sentence for you. And when you stared at him questioningly he replied saying, “I could pick it up by your scent.”
Right. Of course he could.
“He will go insane.” You knew what would happen if Bucky shows up later today and finds that you’re gone. He was already so overprotective, and if he ever finds the cottage empty he will go crazy. You were sure of it.
Loki responded, “He already is.” You gave him a near glare and he rolled his eyes at you. “Oh don’t give me that look. Don’t tell me you can’t put two and two together? Can’t you see? He clearly had something to do with the sudden death of the King.”
“I’m sure there’s a proper explanation to this. He would never-,”
Loki took a step back, sighing in annoyance. “Stop defending him. We have to hurry, we could reach home before the sunsets this evening if we leave right now.”
One look into Loki’s eyes and all the memories of home came flooding back in. Your home, the vast, flourishing forest; in the middle of which was your father’s - the Chief’s - castle. Your home was well hidden, after your people lost the war some years ago your father made sure no human could ever find your kind again. So he built an enormous sanctuary for all those who were left after the war. The Dark Faes were safe there, but they had to remain hidden at all times, especially during the day. You remembered sneaking out of your bedroom and flying in the dead of the night; sometimes with Loki, sometimes the whole night and you’d only return home when the sun rose.
Your family, your friends; home. Home where you weren’t confined to a cottage all the time, but you were free to roam your family’s castle. The libraries you adored, the gardens… home. The sudden desire to return back to your family took over you.
But Bucky… how could you leave him? Perhaps he would understand? No, of course he wouldn’t. Who were you kidding? But home…going back home sounded great right now.
“We don’t have much time. The guards will return to their respective posts and then we-,” Loki hadn’t finished his sentence and you were already moving around, gathering some basic items you wished to take with you.
You realized you would fly the whole way there so you couldn’t bring much. Just a few things; trinkets which reminded you of Bucky. You also hastily grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill and you rapidly scribbled a messy note for him. You couldn’t stop your tears from falling down your cheek, or spilling on the fresh ink on the parchment paper but you kept on writing regardless.
The moment you placed down the quill and stared at the message you wrote, you realized how big of a mistake this is. This wasn’t a good-bye note, this would only fuel his anger. This was madness, you could not just leave him. Could you?
“Loki, this is futile. You know it. He… his armies will not hesitate to start a war with our people again.” You realized the gravity of what you were about to do, but the smug look on Loki’s face told you that he knew it too, he just didn’t care.
“Good. I hope he does, because we will be ready for him when he does. We’re done hiding, and being subordinate to the filthy humans and let them have their way! Oppressing us however they desire, I’m done letting the humans think they’re superior, they’re nothing but a bunch of cowards.” You could see the hatred in his eyes.
You were quick to argue, “Careful, Loki. I am carrying a human child.”
You could tell it took everything in him to hold back his tongue. Ever since he was a little boy, he’s hated humans. When the war happened, both of you were too young to fight, and when Loki lost his father in the war - the General of the fae armies - he loathed the humans even more after that, blaming them for everything bad in his life. He wasn’t entirely wrong.
He glanced down at your stomach with an unreadable expression on his face. He spoke, “Half. Only half human, fortunately. Your child will be raised among us, as Fae and hopefully by then it will not have to hide. Do it for your child, leave this place. Come home with me, let the arrogant Prince start a war again. I assure you, we will win this time.” Loki pleaded again, “Come home. And we can have peace.”
You discarded his comment about Bucky being arrogant. You’d agree, the Prince was indeed so. But he was also so much more. Whether or not he had something to do with the King’s death, you couldn’t put aside the fact that when you desperately needed help, he was there for you. He tended to your wounds and kept you safe from his own people. He was the Prince, one word from him and you would have been killed. But instead, he kept you safe and well.
You could try, but you knew deep within your heart that you would love him no matter what. No matter what he did, no matter what Loki said. You couldn’t help but love him.
You had no problem returning home. It’s Bucky’s reaction to you leaving that made you anxious. It reminded you of the time when one evening Bucky came over and couldn’t find you in or anywhere near the cottage. He went wild…
You returned to your little cottage with your basket full of herbs and plants. You couldn’t wait to dry and preserve them. This forest was even more lush that the one you had back home; this one had even more to offer. As you neared your residence you noticed the weird silence. No birds chirping. You approached with caution, careful as to make your steps as soundless as possible.
Then you head pacing, heavy boots stepping on the forest bed. “Your Highness?” You called out, realizing that it was Bucky who was pacing at your doorstep with worry and fear all over his face.
The moment he heard your voice, he looked up and let out a sigh of relief. He shook his head in disbelief as he approached you, “Where the hell were you?” He asked, staring deep into your eyes.
“I was just,” You turned to look over your shoulder and pointed towards the denser trees, “Over there.”
He walked over to you and cupped your face in his large hands. “What if someone saw you? Hmm? What then?” His tone was calmer than before but you could tell he was trying his hardest to contain himself.
“I… I didn’t think anyone would…” You paused for a moment, unsure of what to say.
He stared into your eyes. “I can’t lose you. Okay? I just can’t.” And before you could say anything else, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. You were surprised by his sudden display of affection that your basket slipped from your hands and fell to the ground.
Your hands immediately reached up to touch the Prince’s face and neck. He groaned against your mouth as your fingers slipped through his hair. The moment you tugged on the roots of his hair, he felt a heat wash over him and he couldn’t fight it anymore.
Without breaking the kiss; he pulled you closer, walked the two of you backwards until your back hit the nearest tree. His tongue slipped into your mouth, making you moan into the kiss as he picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. Your core pressed against his firm body as his mouth moved perfectly against yours.
His hands held you up, securely against him; he had a very firm grip on your thigh, his other hand placed right under your ass, holding you up while he kissed you with ardor, shamelessly moaning against your mouth.
His lips left yours momentarily to kiss along your jaw, and down your neck; nibbling on your skin and making you moan out loud. He placed you down for just a moment, pulled away from you and stared into your eyes again. “May I touch you, angel?” He asked breathlessly.
You nodded, looking him dead in the eyes and biting your lip mindlessly at the feral and passionate look in his eyes. He reached down and unbuckled his pants as quickly as he could and then his hands were on you again, one of his hands making its way in between your thighs. He slipped his two fingers past your wet entrance with ease and grunted in your ear as he felt your walls instantly welcoming him in. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the spots which made you purr.
He chuckled as you whimpered and closed your eyes when he leaned down and nibbled on your skin around your collar bones. You mindlessly bucked your hips against his hand and you moaned under your breath while he touched you so gently.
He teased you for a little while longer, loving the noises you made whenever he touched a sensitive spot. But he couldn’t wait any longer so he slipped his fingers out of you and picked you up again, you wrapped your legs around his waist again as he pressed your tucked wings against the bark of the tree.
He kissed along your neck as he pushed his thick cock into you; stretching you out as he went. His nails digging into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours clawing at his shoulders as he filled you up nicely. You were both panting by the time he filled you up entirely.
“All mine.” He whispered against the side of your mouth.
He gave you a quick moment to adjust to his size, he rocked in and out of you as gently as he could. You felt all of him, all the veins and the velvety skin of his member. He was perfect. He stroked your walls with his pulsating cock and you were moaning against his cheek in no time. He enjoyed every second of it.
His hands supported you up by grabbing you at the curve of your ass; holding you against him, as he sped up into you. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck and let out a muffled moan.
His mouth soon found yours again and he nibbled on your bottom lip and you let out quiet moans. You were more than happy to surrender to him as he fucked you relentlessly; earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls.
Soon, you felt the pressure forming; fiery and pressing inside you. Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how his body brought you immense pleasure.
“Come for me, angel.” He moaned breathlessly against your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace; pounding into you mercilessly. The pleasure was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his cock; moaning as quietly as you could, endlessly as he kept fucking into you until he came undone as well.
Once he recovered, he placed you back down on your feet and stared into your eyes. “I thought something bad had happened to you. Or that you were in danger and I couldn’t-,”
You smiled and cut him off by gently cupping his face. “I’m fine. I’m alright, don’t worry so much.”
That memory felt like yesterday, as well as a hundred years ago at the same time. So much had happened in between that you no longer knew what to think. All you knew is that Bucky would lose his mind the minute he figures out that you’re gone.
“We can put an end to this.” Loki encouraged you.
You noticed that bitter tone of his. “Put an end to Bucky you mean.” You would never let him do that. And the look in his cunning eyes told you that he knew.
Yet, he persisted with burning anger in his eyes. “If it comes down to it, if he doesn’t yield I-,”
You glared at him. “You will do no such thing! He’s the father of my child!” You raised your voice just a little. You had forgotten how ruthless Loki could be.
Loki closed his eyes for a brief moment. You could tell by how he tucked his wings behind him that he was trying very hard to contain himself. “We’ll figure something out. I’m sure of it.”
Deep down, you knew you had to leave, it was now or never. You couldn’t stay here, not for too long. Bucky might accept you, but his people never would and who’s to say they won’t try to hurt you, or your child. And you couldn’t risk your lives, nor spend the entirety of your days in hiding anymore because it wasn’t just you now, it was about your baby too. You’d do it for the baby.
You nodded at Loki, picking up the small bundle of things you packed. “Let’s go home.”
Several hours later, newly crowned King, Bucky urged his horse to enter the dense, dark forest. He’d kept his new crown on as he made his way over to you, unable to wait for your reaction when he’d show it off to you. Speaking of reaction, he wondered why Sam had been looking all smug and unbothered this morning.
Oh well, he’d deal with Sam later. Right now, Bucky’s focus was on you.
I’m on my way, angel.
After many years, the Kingdom was now free of the horrible tyrant ruler, Bucky’s step father. The man had not only initiated the war against the Faes, had not only forced them to be confined and remain hidden in a forest far, far away but he had been paying little to no attention to his own subject in the past years either.
In some way or another, he had to be removed. Everything would be right from now on. If Bucky brings you to his Kingdom, and crowns you as his Queen - his subject would witness that Faes are not to be feared, or belittled. They would finally realize how wrong the previous King was.
You would be his equal. His beloved Queen. And he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait to have you as his wife, and together you and him could unite your people. He would be nothing like his terrible step-father, he would be just and would welcome the Faes to his lands.
He jumped off his horse at the sight of your cozy little cottage. He jogged all the way to your front door, with a victorious smile on his face. He thought about what you must be doing at this hour, with the sun barely up in the sky. Perhaps you were still asleep, beneath the many layers of the soft blankets you liked so much. Bucky was so excited to begin this new life with you, he could barely contain himself.
He was a little apprehensive of what your reaction to all this would be. He was sure you would understand why he did what he did; the horrible old King had to go so everything could be righted. He just hoped you wouldn’t be mad that he stole some of your poisonous flowers. Oh well, he knew just how to make it up to you if you were.
He stopped at your front door and shook his head, smiling to himself. He wouldn’t want to startle you so he figured it would be best if he’d calm himself down before knocking on your door. He lifted his hand up to knock, and that was around the same time he noticed the front door was already unlocked and slightly opened.
He panicked. “Angel?” He called out softly, fear and worry clouding his thoughts. He gently pushed the door open, praying to whatever god was up there that he didn't find you hurt, or worse, gone.
But before he properly stepped inside the warm room, his gut feeling told him what really happened.
You were gone. And you left willingly. Leaving him a note.
That was it. Just a note, and just like that you were gone.
Bucky braced himself as he approached the little desk. His hands were shaky as he reached out for the parchment paper, carefully folded and placed under a quill on the desk.
His vision was blurry before he even unfolded the paper, he couldn’t tell if it was his tears of grief or anger.
The damned note read:
‘Bucky, this is my good-bye note to you. I promise to take care of our child. You do not have to worry about us, we will be both well taken care of. I’m leaving willingly. I’m going home, back to my people where I would not have to hide all the time. Please do not for even a moment doubt what we had. It was real. All of it was. I love you, I always will.’
Bucky read it again, and again. I love you, I always will…
Bucky was frozen in place, note in his hand as his heart raced. His mind wandered. He noticed the tear stains on the paper, and the hasty handwriting. He looked around, and saw that you didn’t take much along with you. So whoever came to get you, came well prepared. He immediately knew that it must be the owner of the green feather he found on the floor of this very cottage just yesterday.
He was enraged. He was ready to accept the Faes, but now he wished hell upon all of them. They took you away from him. And they would pay for it, in blood.
155 notes · View notes
Of Kings and Beasts - Thirteen
Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve
Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.
Warnings: Angst, Language, Smut (noncon), Injuries, Violence,
Word Count: 2K
A/n: BRO work today was brutal but now I’m off for two days uwu. Um, I've been doing a bit of writing so have this, hopefully I’ll also post something tomorrow. I love you all!!!
THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! 18+!!!!
James pushes you behind his back, unsheathing his sword and pointing it at the King.
“You will not take another step, do you understand? We can discuss this like men, not fight about it like boys.” Thor blinks a few times, eyes darting between you and your husbands.
“Very well.” He straightens up, face perfectly political.
“I would like you to hand over my wife, or I will kill her where she stands. If I cannot have her, then nobody can.”
Steve yanks you back another step and shields you with his body, unsheathing his own sword.
“You will not make one more hostile move,” He snarls. Thor only laughs, eyes lacking any proper emotion.
“If my eyes are correct, then it is the two of you who have made hostile moves, not me. You both have swords drawn towards me, in my palace, in my kingdom, and you expect me to do nothing about it? This, my dear friends, could be considered an act of war.” Dread fills you as you’re reminded of Loki’s words.
“Lower your swords. Loki means for you to fall into battle. It isn’t worth it,” you say desperately, taking a step towards the injured King.
“He has just threatened to kill you and you expect us to lower our swords?” James looks at you like you’re crazy.
“This is what Loki wants. For us to quarrel. We must find a way to overcome this if we want any chance at saving the kingdoms. He means to overthrow both Asgard and Acadia, and I will not stand for it.” You take a deep breath then step towards Thor, your heart racing in your chest.
You open your mouth to speak but he’s already got you yanked against his chest, your discarded dagger pressed against your throat.
Your husbands each jump forward, but you shake your head at them desperately.
“Thor, we will discuss this. We will not do anything rash, alright? I am sorry for...” your eyes shut for a moment, heart in your throat as his grip on your shoulders slowly loosens, knife dropping from your neck.
“There is no need to apologize, my sweet. I know it was only an accident. I am willing to discuss the trade of you to Asgard, but I will not take no for an answer.” His grip on you tightens for a fraction of a moment before loosening further, arm dropping down to your waist.
“You are far too precious to be left in the hands of those fools. I will treat you right. I promise.” You close your eyes for a long moment then nod, eyes finding Steve’s desperately.
‘Just leave it,’ you mouth, watching him as he reluctantly nods. Your eyes then move to James’, the deep blues filled with fire and anguish.
“I would very much like to stay alive. The only way I see that happening without a war is if you can come to an agreement with him, as temporary as it may be. Whatever was wrong with James is obviously wrong in the reverse with Thor, and we will need help undoing the damage that Loki has caused. It’s only a matter of time before he finds out what is happening here, if he does not know already.” Thor doesn’t seem to hear you, far too entranced in kissing your neck.
The two men exchange perplexed looks, both at your words and his actions.
“What are we to do? Sell you off like a piece of cattle? No.” You scoff at Steve’s words and shake your head.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Your words hit the Kings in the stomach as the truth behind them rings strong.
“Loki has orchestrated all of this. We need to know the details of his plan so we can remain one step ahead. If we fail... then both of the Kingdoms will fall.”
James looks confused, his confusion turning to anger for a moment when Thor’s hands stray upwards towards your breasts, his lips searching for yours.
You crane your neck away from him and take both of his hands in yours to stop their exploration of your body.
“Leave it be, James,” you whisper, not wanting there to be any fighting. He takes a few deep breaths then nods.
“If it is truly Loki who is behind all of this, why do we not seek him out and kill him?”
You motion to the man behind you and shake your head.
“He has only just gotten his brother back. Any attempt on his life would only be a step towards war. And Loki’s powers are not like any I’ve ever seen. He can be in multiple places at once with ease.” The Kings exchange glances, Steve grinding his teeth together when Thor places a protective hand on your belly.
“This has been enough chatter. What do you want in exchange? Make it quick, for I would like to get back to my chambers with her.” The thought of you beneath the King has James’ blood boiling and Steve seeing red.
“Wouldn’t it be wise if you were to go get your wound examined?” You ask, trying to buy yourself some time to come up with a better plan.
“I do not want to be away from your side for any longer than I must. My injury is not severe, I only want you.” You close your eyes and swallow hard, hoping that the Gods have an answer for you.
“Will you not join me in bed, darling?” You shudder, arms wrapped tightly around your frame as you stand on the balcony, the cool night air chilling you to your core but it’s far better than joining him in his bed.
A warm hand finds the small of your back and you jump in shock, inhaling sharply and trying your hardest not to flinch out from under it.
“I-I was just clearing my thoughts, wishing the Kings a safe journey back to Acadia.” Thor hums, arms wrapping around you and chin resting atop your head.
“You need not concern yourself with their affairs anymore. They have given you to me, and I intend to cherish you better than they ever could.”
Sold yet again to a new king, for a cheaper price.
He tugs you gently to the bed, laying you down and placing soft kisses upon your skin and kneeling between your legs.
His hands stroke at your thighs gently, and you must admit that the feeling is not totally unpleasant.
“I shall bed you properly, show you how a man can truly treat a woman.”
A large hand is forcing its way between your thighs, searching for the warmth between your legs.
You shake your head, pushing yourself back and closing your legs tightly
“Please, I-I’m not ready. Don’t use me as the other Kings did. You say you will treat me properly, so please do not take me against my will. I just... Please.” He freezes, face softening for a moment.
“Do not worry, my love. It will only hurt for a moment.” Dread fills you as he manhandles you, pulling you down to the end of the bed right back where you were.
He pushes your nightgown up, leaving your lower half bare for him.
His eyes are dark and he licks his lips, one hand snacking into his trousers to soothe the ache that’s started to form in his balls.
“I am large, so it may take a moment, but I assure you I will bring you pleasure.”
You squirm frantically, trying to escape him as he leans down to prepare you with his mouth.
His tongue is on you in an instant, and your mind brings you back to your only good memory with James.
Your heart aches and you cover your face with your hands, wishing it were him instead of the blond beast between your thighs.
“You are prepared for me, love. It will still hurt, but only for a moment.” He leans back on his haunches and pulls his cock from his trousers then leans forward, lining up with your entrance.
You cry out in pain at the intrusion, arching away from it and clawing at the man before you.
Your nails leave angry red marks on his chest, but he seems unbothered, focused only on sheathing himself inside you.
The pain spreads from where the two of you are connected, shooting through every nerve and making every cell explode.
“Stop! Please, stop!” He does, stilling only when he’s filled you completely, his hips flush with your body.
Tears trickle down your cheeks as, yet again, you’re violated by a King. This time though, it's arguably worse.
He swore to love you, protect you, be your friend.
And now he’s taking something that he can never give back.
Sleep refuses to find you, so you venture out of the King’s chambers and through the Palace, wanting a change of scenery to help clear your mind.
You find yourself in the gardens, the place that spurred all of this madness, and shake your head with a sigh.
“Don’t you know that it is unsafe for little women to be out so late?” The voice sends a shiver down your spine and goosebumps to your skin.
“You cannot stop me. I do not know why you’re trying so hard to prevent the inevitable.” You turn around to face the trickster, a tired look on your face.
“At times I do not know why I try either.” This is not what he expected you to say. He’s stunned for a moment, and you use that moment to continue speaking the terrible thoughts that have plagued your mind.
“The kingdoms haven’t treated me fairly, and I find I have little to gain from any of this.”
He watches you for a very long moment, takes in your hunched over stance, the tension in your shoulders, and the exhaustion on your face.
“So why stand for it, then? Why bow to kings who have only ever treated you like a disposable whore?” You flinch at his harsh words and he offers you an apologetic half-smile before continuing.
“The Kings have done nothing but belittle and hurt you, so why stand for anything that they’ve done? Why encourage their rule? You’ve seen their kingdom, their villages. Everything is in ruins because they are so focused on conquering. Conquering land, kingdoms... women.” He eyes you with that last part, watching the way your shoulders sag a bit more.
“They are all the same. You do not deserve such treatment, just as I have not deserved the way I have been treated. We are nothing more than orphans, taken by families that are not our own.” You raise your eyebrows in shock and confusion, waiting for him to elaborate.
He chuckles once without humour and shakes his head.
“The old King of Asgard was hungry for power and travelled across the globe conquering lands. He took me as a baby. Stole me from my home as just another trophy from another conquest. We are similar, you and I. Surely you can understand why I want to watch the Kingdoms burn.”
His words hang heavily in the air for a moment, but more disturbing than that is the fact that you truly do understand.
His vision doesn't look so outlandish and... it’s starting to look rather appealing.
82 notes · View notes
PAIRINGS! ex!dilf!bucky barnes x reader
SUMMARY! “then why do i still love you?” he asked, kissing you slowly.
WARNINGS! unprotected sex, 18+ minors dni, public sex kinda, oral (m rec), face-fucking, slight degrading, breeding kink, mentions of alcohol, reader almost passed out.
A/N! celebrate 600 followers with me and ex dilf bucky!
bucky was on his way over to collect your daughter as it was his week to spend time with her. he told you he was taking her away to disney, you wanted to go but you didn’t want to impose and be rude.
you had your daughters bag packed with all her disney stuff and you had her dressed up beautifully. “mommy hurry oh my god!” your daughter, harlow, whined. “harry, calm down.” you giggled.
she whined louder and stomped her feet. “you act like this around daddy?” you stood up, taking her hand. she nodded and walked downstairs with you. “oh yeah? and daddy lets you?”
she nodded again and sat up on the couch. “and he gets me what i want, he says he’s a sucker for me.” she swung her legs around. you chuckled and grabbed her bag.
“well, daddy’s a sucker for anyone.” you joked as you handed her the backpack and put the small suitcase on the floor. “sometimes i hear daddy say he misses you.” harlow smiled up at you.
you froze before moving slightly and smiling down at her. “well, we all miss what we can’t have, darling.” you said, handing her a donald duck teddy bear. your daughter nodded and sighed.
“but daddy can have you, you always see him!” she protested, getting off the couch. you smiled at her and shook your head. you heard a knock on the door, making you smile.
you opened the door and invited bucky inside. “hey harry! how are you, my petal?” bucky bent down in front of his daughter, hugging her tightly. “i have coffee ready, if you want some?” you offered.
bucky smiled and nodded walking with you. “hey! mommy can come with us to disneyland, right?” harlow ran over to you two. you looked down at her and shook your head slightly.
you poured bucky a cup of coffee and handed it to him. “that’s a great idea harlow.” bucky looked at you with a smirk. you sighed before looking at bucky with a smile. “yeah, no i have work.” you said.
bucky frowned and grabbed your phone. “i’ll call your boss, give you a week off?” he smiled, opening your phone. you hated yourself for setting such an obvious password.
“fine! god i’ll go pack my bags.” you walked off in a huff as you went to your room. you grabbed another suitcase and threw your clothes in it quickly, walking downstairs.
harlow squealed as she hugged you tightly. “you owe me.” you said through gritted teeth as you lifted harlow up. bucky smiled and nodded, grabbing both of the suitcases and bringing them to the car.
if you had to be honest, you didn’t like bucky. you two had ended on good terms but you couldn’t stand being around him. he was so overly affectionate and touchy.
he didn’t make you uncomfortable in anyway, he was just too much sometimes. you were all in the car, harlow was asleep and you were clearly annoyed as you rested your head on the window.
“i know y’don’t like me anymore, but i still wanna try again, y’know, f’harlow.” bucky said, giving you a quick glance. “we already tried, four times, we aren’t right for each other.” you said plainly.
bucky sighed and stopped at a stoplight. “every time, y’left me because of some stupid reason like leaving the toilet seat up, you’re over agitated.” he said.
you chuckled to yourself, realising that he was completely right. “sure, whatever, but we aren’t dating, just friends.” you said, looking over at him. bucky smiled and nodded, starting to drive again.
you all quickly arrived at the disney princess hotel that bucky had booked. you walked into the reception with harlow on your waist and bucky taking the suitcases.
bucky checked in and brought you all up to the room. “i think i should tell you that there’s only two beds so.” bucky smirked as he opened the door. you didn’t care at this moment, you had a cinderella themed bedroom.
it’s like bucky planned it out, because he knew cinderella was your favourite princess. “it’s beautiful.” you whispered as you looked around. “good, y’here for a week.” he said as he dragged the bags inside.
you sat down on the bed and put harlow down. “i think we should sleep and then explore tomorrow?” bucky said as he started putting the clothes away. you nodded and lifted harlow.
“c’mon, doll, it’s time for bed.” you said as you took off her outfit, slightly disappointed that it wouldn’t be shown off. she whined and ran at bucky. “fine, dad can dress you.” you said.
you grabbed a pair of silk shorts and a tank top before walking into the bathroom. you walked back in and got into bed almost immediately. “night love.” bucky kissed your daughters head.
“mommy!” your daughter screamed. you groaned and got up, kissing her head. “goodnight princess.” you said, turning to see bucky in the same spot. you sighed and walked around the bed.
once you got in, you turned away from bucky and cuddled against the pillow. “friends cuddle, y’know.” bucky whispered, tapping your waist. as much as you didn’t want to, your body betrayed you and turned over.
bucky smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist. you put your head on his chest and took in his scent. bucky rubbed your head and kissed your forehead.
the next morning moved quickly, you were all in a rush, trying to get to breakfast, then drive to disney. you were now currently standing in line for the magic tea cups.
bucky bought you too many things that you swore you would pay him back. bucky held you close for the entire time, almost as if you were married again. you felt happy again.
you all came back after a long day of walking, harlow was dead asleep and you and bucky were tired. “how about we get some drinks?” he smirked as he cocked his head towards the door.
you looked down at harlow, there was no waking her up at all. you bit your lip before nodding and walking out with him. “do you have the room key?” you asked before the door closed. “yeah.” he answered quickly.
you two walked down to the bar, where you slung back too many drinks. you were sat at the bar, laughing at an old memory brought up. “i still can’t believe you fell down my stairs in front of my dad!” you choked out.
bucky threw his head back and he erupted in a loud laughter. “i was drunk and your father was up my ass!” he complained, leaning forward. you fell onto his lap in laughter at his stupid you were when you were teenagers.
“we were so good together.” bucky shook his head as he wiped the small tears under his eyes. you nodded and took another sip of your wine. “we were, it’s a shame we had to grow up.”
bucky sighed and looked at you in awe. “i don’t think growing up was our problem.” he whispered, putting the glass of whiskey down. you shook your head and put your wine down.
“it definitely was, bucky, we started dating at sixteen, we were young and didn’t know anything.” you said, shaking the wine slowly. bucky took the glass from your hands, putting it down.
you looked at him and sighed, watching him closely. “age wasn’t ever a problem, doll.” he stood up, standing between your legs. “we outgrew each other, buck.” you whispered.
bucky shook his head and put his hands on your face. “then why do i still love you?” he asked, kissing you slowly. you sighed and pushed him back. “buck, we’re friends.” you shook your head, standing up.
bucky whined and gripped your waist, pulling you in and kissing you again. you gripped his face and pulled him in closer. “bucky.” you mumbled, pulling away.
you looked into his blue eyes and placed your forehead on his. “let me take care of you, please.” he whispered. you licked your lips and nodded, kissing him again.
bucky put his hands on your ass and started walking forwards, while you were walking backwards. bucky gripped your ass, making you gasp. bucky took this chance to slide his tongue into your mouth.
bucky pushed you up against the wall and gripped your ass tightly. “if you two could like.. not.” a preppy teenager spoke from the reception desk. you pushed bucky away and finally took your breath.
“yep, yeah.” bucky spoke as he wiped the side of his mouth, smirking at you. you two walked to the elevators, immediately falling together as if you were both magnets. “fuck i love you so much.” bucky moaned.
your hands found his hair, which you gripped tightly, pulling on the roots. bucky’s hands travelled from your ass to your thighs, lifting one of your legs up to his hip.
the elevator came down and the doors opened, a ding telling you both to pull away and get in. you both walked in and sighed. “wait— shit.” you said, pushing bucky away, who was trying to jump your bones.
“what about harlow?” you asked as you whispered. bucky bit his lip before hitting the highest floor. you got a few floors up before bucky stopped the elevator between floors.
you shook your head and bit your lip. “now i can fuck you.” bucky smirked as he peeled off his shirt, throwing it up. you watched it as it landed on the camera.
bucky pulled off your clothes, following by him and pulled you in close. “you’re still as beautiful as i remember you.” he whispered as he kissed your shoulder.
you moaned softly and gripped his back. “get on your knees, pet.” he whispered, watching you get down immediately. you grabbed bucky’s tight boxers and pulled them down, letting him kick them off.
you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock before jerking him off slowly. “please don’t tease.” he begged, a loud whine leaving his throat. you smirked and kitten licked his tip.
you sucked on it softly before moving your head down. you felt him start to thrust slowly, his tip hitting off the back of your throat and making you gag. tears started to form in your eyes.
you moaned as you gripped his hips, allowing him to thrust into you freely. “fuck baby, i missed your little mouth.” he whispered, throwing his head back with a groan.
you hallowed your cheeks and rolled your eyes to the back of your head, loving the feeling of bucky using you to pleasure himself. “gotta be inside you.” he lifted you up.
you whined and fell back against the wall. bucky pulled down your pants and panties before lifting you up. you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck.
bucky positioned himself before sliding inside you. you arched your back and moaned out loud, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. “fuck bucky.” you moaned.
bucky smiled and slowly thrusted into you, moaning out at your tightness. buckys hands found your ass and gripped it tightly. “y’feel so fucking perfect.” bucky slid his head in the crook of your neck.
your hands gripped on his t-shirt, pulling on it roughly. “fuck yes! oh you feel so good.” you moaned. bucky lifted your leg higher, sinking in deeper and bottoming out completely.
you cried out as he hit a certain spot you forgot existed. “bucky!” you yelled as you ripped the flimsy fabric of his t-shirt. bucky smirked at you and kissed you roughly.
you felt a small knot appear in your stomach, making you pull away and throw your head back. “that’s it, you’re so fuckin’ close i can feel ya.” bucky smirked.
you sighed and rolled your eyes to the back of your head, your mind going dizzy. your vision was blurry and you felt useless in your own body. “got ya all fucked out? hm? my dumb little baby looks so good.”
“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” you moaned, clenching against bucky’s cock. the knot in your stomach continued to tighten. “gonna cum!” you screamed as you felt yourself let loose.
bucky threw his head back and moaned. “fuck, you’re milkin’ my cock, baby, so fuckin’ good.” bucky groaned. you bit your lip and watched him fuck your almost unconscious self.
bucky released inside of you, fucking his seed deep inside of you. “gonna make you a mommy again, a sexy mommy.” bucky whispered, leaving his cock inside you.
“i love you so fucking much.” bucky whispered, kissing you again. you smiled into the kiss and looked down at him. “c’mon, we need to check on harry.” you pulled away.
bucky nodded and pulled out, pulling up your panties and your pants. you felt bucky’s cum pool in your panties. bucky pressed the floor button again, pulling up his boxers and pants.
you smiled at him and kissed his cheek. “got ya dick whipped, hm?” he joked as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in. you squeaked and put your head on his ribs as he walked.
you both entered the bedroom and checked on harry, who was still asleep. “hm, well, shower sex?” bucky asked as he walked into the bathroom. you smiled and walked in with him.
361 notes · View notes
permission - oneshot
soft dark housemate bucky x reader
word count: 3.3k
Bucky has a lot of pent up anger, and lately, you’ve been getting on his nerves
warnings & tags
18+, smut, NONCON (but reader is into it), creampie, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spanking, smidge of violence, slight degradation & praise kinks
written for @sweeterthanthis quote me on it 6k challenge - congrats!! the quote i chose was “besides, isn’t it more exciting when you don’t have permission?” from pulp fiction. this started out as hate sex and somehow evolved into something more. thanks for reading! <3
You don't mean to keep wearing Bucky's hoodies, but yours always seem to be in the wash or on your bedroom floor. You can tell it's getting to him. Stern reminders have become death glares that pierce right through you when you wander into the kitchen wearing one of his hoodies for the fifth day in a row.
It's baffling him, having a housemate. His therapist suggested it, even helping him search through online ads for housemates in the area. He told her that he picked your ad because you seemed friendly in your picture. Looking back, he realizes he should have gone for someone older. More responsible.
If it's not the clothes you keep 'borrowing' from him, it's the unwashed dishes, or the music blaring loudly from your bedroom. Between his housemate and his court-mandated therapy sessions, his only escape is work.
He knows it's unhealthy, inflicting the pain he feels on the people he's fighting. But he can't seem to stop one he's started. Lately, every fight ends in rage and blood. And when he comes home, he's too drained to care about his annoying housemate.
So when his therapist orders him to take a break from the action, he starts coming home with energy to burn.
You're curled up on the couch watching TV when the door slams. The sudden sound is jarring, and too loud to be an accident. Bucky is mad, and you're wearing his hoodie again.
He comes into the kitchen space and sets his bag down. He doesn't even glance your way as he starts unloading the small bag of groceries into the fridge and pantry.
You can't help it, you need to break the tension. "You're home early."
He closes the fridge door. "You're wearing my hoodie. Again."
"Yeah, mine are in the wash, sorry."
He finally looks at you. Well, it's more of a glare. With his jaw clenched.
You don't know why he's gotten so much more angry lately, but you're not about to let him ruin your mood. "What, do you want me to start asking for permission now? Where's the fun in that?"
This only seems to make him more mad. He leans forward, bracing his hands on the kitchen bench, and your gaze is drawn to his dark metal arm. "Take it off," he growls.
You shift a little on the couch. "I - I'm cold, Bucky."
"I'm not asking."
Slowly, you unfurl your legs to get off the couch. Something is different with him. Usually he doesn't like to draw attention to his arm, but right now he seems to want you to see it. To remind you who you're dealing with. But you know he's full of shit. He's a superhero, a good guy. He'd never hurt you.
Instead of taking off his hoodie like he expected, you have the audacity to give him a withering glare of your own, before snorting and heading to your room.
He launches himself over the counter. The sound of him landing makes you turn, but he's on you before you can react.
You are pushed forward against the wall, pinned by his metal hand around the nape of your neck.
He snarls at you while you struggle in vain against his metal grip. It's not painful, but you're very clearly at his mercy.
Furious, you reach behind you and try to push him back. "Fuck you!"
"I'll take it off myself then, shall I?" His other hand starts pulling it up, revealing more of your thigh.
You try to push his hand away. "Wait! Wait Bucky - "
He yanks the hoodie up to reveal your bare naked ass underneath. He looks down. As you go to cover yourself, he bats your hand away, but drops the hoodie back down.
"Not even fucking wearing anything underneath," he growls. You can only squirm as he presses his body against yours. His hips meet your ass and you feel the distinct outline of his hardness. His hot breath fans your ear. "You picked the wrong night, doll."
The rumble of his voice goes straight to your core and you can't help it, your ass presses back against him. Oh, god. You're dead, you're so fucking dead right now. But he's insistently hard against you, and he doesn't seem to be backing off.
Bucky's mind is racing. He's mad, furious, at you, and yet suddenly he's realizing how pliant you've become beneath him.
Fuck it. He grinds himself against you, moving with sudden force that has you gasping against the wall. "You fucking like that?" he asks, his voice much softer than before. Before you can respond he does it again, letting out a slight grunt.
"Y-yes," you gasp, even as humiliation wars with the desire now blooming within you.
The sight of you with your mouth half open and your brows furrowed has his cock straining against his pants. Goddamn he wants more. He wants to bend you down over the closest available surface and draw every ounce of pleasure out of you.
With each thrust against your ass his control is unravelling. He angles your neck to open up more while he nudges his nose against your pulse, and breathes in your scent.
Pine and cedarwood. His hips come to a stop.
"You've been using my soap?" A dark undertone to his words. An anger reawakened.
Your eyes fly open.
Before you can even begin to apologize, the hoodie is ripped off. The cool night air greets your skin for a second before his hulking form is on you again.
With a whir of metal his hand pushes down on your neck and he takes you roughly by the hips. He manipulates your body until you are bent over in the middle of the hallway.
His feet kick your legs until you are spread wide for him. He rubs a hand along the small of your back and sighs. "God fucking dammit woman," he growls. "Look at you."
It shouldn't be such a turn on - god knows he's mad at you - but you feel your pussy get wetter by the way he manhandles you so easily.
The sound of his belt clinking as he takes it off, however, is panic inducing. You're not ready yet, you need time to –
The tip of his cock pushes and slides through your folds.
"Wait!" You blurt the word out even as you keen back against him for more.
"What's the matter, housemate?" He stills your movements with ease, keeping his cock against your pussy. It's just shy of your clit and he knows it. His grip gets harder on your hips as he imagines you chasing your own release using his cock as stimulation.
"I - I don't want it yet - " but your mind is blank as you struggle to come up with a complete sentence.
"Really?" he growls, and he begins pushing against you again, his cock sliding through your increasingly wet folds. The sensation is enough to elicit a whimper from you. "You're not thinking straight, doll. Wanna try again?"
"Need to - oh - " you're cut off when he palms your right cheek. "Need to s-stop - "
He spanks you.
The shock and pain mixes with sudden pleasure. You cry out and fall forward, your forehead touching the wall for a second. Then, he's pulling you back to him with a grunt.
"What you need is not important right now." There's nothing you can do as he holds you still, rubbing your other cheek in preparation. "You're going to take what I give you like a good fucking housemate for once, and you'll like it, yeah?"
Fuck, he's being so mean and you do like it. You like the anticipation as he lifts his hand from your ass in preparation to spank you again. The slick in your pussy must be gushing at this point, dripping down your inner leg.
The sting of his palm is harder this time, but you were ready. You let out a small moan, but manage to keep yourself still, pushing back against his palm.
His metal hand pulls your hips back hard against him. "Answer me," he growls, while his other hand smooths over your back again, feeling the way you've arched yourself for him.
Looking down at you, bent over in the tiny hallway of the little house you two share, he marvels at how quickly you submitted to him. You are much more agreeable like this. He should have done it sooner.
His hand stills over your back. "No?" He demands.
You don't know why you said it. You must be insane to say no to the super soldier who currently has you exactly where he wants you. And you're lying, too. You'll take just about anything he gives you right now. Especially if it's the long, hard, cock, currently resting beneath your pussy.
Biting your lip, you shake your head. "No, Bucky, I don't think I'll take it."
There's a brief moment of quiet.
Then he pulls back until the tip of his cock is prodding against your hole. "I was kind of hoping you'd be stupid enough to try that." He sounds deadly. You're dripping with desperation. You try pushing back against him but he holds you a second longer. Another reminder that he's in control. "Besides, isn't it more exciting when you don't have permission?"
He thrusts into you, filling you with his length.
You cry out at the sensation of being filled. As he bottoms out, hitting that perfect spot inside, your eyes roll back. A rumbled groan from above has your pussy clenching around him in arousal.
Slowly, torturously, he pulls out of you, until only the tip is inside, before thrusting back into you again. He does this a few more times, getting faster, until he gets into a rhythm of fucking you that sends pleasure through you like you've never had before.
"You know what I think?" he grunts.
You try to meet his thrusts, not trusting yourself to speak.
"I think you like wearing my clothes," he accuses softly; so contrary to the harsh grip he has on your body.
You moan and shake your head.
"No?" You can hear the grin in his voice. "You don't love having my scent all over you? Walking around naked beneath my fucking clothes? Acting like you're my woman?"
"Bucky," you whimper, unable to take it. He's filling you up so well, so much better than you ever imagined.
"Admit it," he demands, cold and cruel.
Your pussy gushes with arousal at his words. The pleasure in your core is slowly increasing with each thrust of his cock deep inside.
He spanks you again with a snarl.
Your walls clench around him in pure bliss. "Oh god, yes!" you cry out.
His thrusts get heavier, paired with his deep grunts. You are spread beneath him exactly the way he needs, unable to do anything other than take it. Your pussy clenches around him more and more until you're whining and moving against him with reckless abandon.
"Too much!" you cry out. White hot pleasure is rising within.
"You wanna cum?" He grits out. "Beg."
You shut your eyes as tears threaten to spill. He's really trying hard to humiliate you, and it's working. Inhaling deeply as he rails into you, you push down the embarrassment fluttering in your stomach and focus instead on the pleasure. "Please, Bucky, I'm begging you to let me cum. Please?"
He leans further over you, and the new angle has you seeing stars. You try to hold out as long as you can, waiting for him to say the words. You're panting as each thrust courses through you, building the pressure deep inside.
"Good girl," he says, his voice hoarse, and it sends you over the edge. "Come for me."
You don't have a choice, it's already here. The white hot pleasure explodes inside you, and your walls flutter and clench around his cock. He fucks you through it, reaching deep inside you and hitting that perfect spot over and over. It spreads through every inch of you, waves of pulsing pleasure in tandem with each stroke. Eventually your body is so spent you struggle to stay standing, but he keeps you right where he wants with ease.
Then, his grip tightens on you as he groans something in a language you don't know. He barely pulls out of you, pulling and pushing your bodies together like he can't get enough. The sensation is pure bliss as you feel him finally spend into you. You revel in the way he sounds and feels coming deep inside you. It goes on and on, until he finally slows down.
Bucky did not expect to be fucking you tonight, but he can't deny it, he is completely, utterly, satisfied. All the tension building up from before is gone. At least, momentarily. His half hard cock still inside you makes him realise he could still go a few more rounds.
But you look done for now. Slowly, he lifts you up, keeping your back against his chest with an arm around your torso. His cock slides out in the process, and the little moan you make combined with the view he has over your shoulder has his hardness pressing against your ass again.
You sigh in contentment as he brushes a thumb over one of your nipples.
"I like you like this," he says softly in your ear. Shivers of pleasure flow over your skin at his words. "Shower?"
You nod weakly.
He carries you, avoiding the shredded hoodie on the floor, through to the bathroom. When he sets you on your feet in the shower, the warm water instantly begins to relax your muscles. You watch Bucky pull his shirt off, gaze drawn to the thick muscles he has on his broad chest. There are scars around his shoulder where the metal arm is attached. Swallowing, you continue to stare as he pulls his pants down and steps out of them.
Straightening up, he joins you in the small shower.
You don't know how, but he's hard again. His eyes don't break contact as he reaches behind you to get the soap. Raising an eyebrow, he gives you a lazy smile.
You bite your lip and duck your head. "Sorry about the soap," you say quietly.
"Eh, you've made it up to me."
That makes you smile, as you stare down and inevitably look at his hard cock. Your body tingles pleasantly at the sight.
"Can I clean you up?"
You could get used to hearing his baritone voice so soft and intimate. Shyly, you nod.
He runs the soap over you a few times, then sets it aside. Looking up, you see his eyes focused on your body as he runs his hands over you. His right hand is calloused and featherlight over your skin, running over your waist and up to your breasts. He cups them and massages them firmly.
The water runs down your face as you lift your head back under it and close your eyes. You want his hands everywhere.
Then, he brings his metal arm around you lower back and pulls you flush against him. His hardness burns firmly against your belly. By the tilt of his head and the tension in his jaw, you know he wants you again. Now.
This time, he takes you from the front. Bracing himself on the wall behind you, he lifts you up with ease and cages you in with his broad body. You wrap your legs around his hips for support, as anticipation curls inside.
He waits, watching your breasts as your nipples grow hard from the coldness of the wall. A satisfied growl rumbles from his chest.
"Bucky," you say, brows furrowing, "please, need you inside me."
"So submissive for me, doll," he groans, as he leans forward and slants his mouth against yours.
Opening your mouth for him, you fall apart as his tongue tastes your lips.
He eases you down on his cock. The kiss gets stronger, more desperate and wild, as he consumes your moans of pleasure. His own grunts follow when he starts fucking you against the wall.
You can already feel your second orgasm coming. You're settled firmly between him and the wall, so each thrust only serves to stretch your pussy further and bring you down harder on him.
The glass is fogging up as the world fades away until it's only Bucky, kissing you, holding you, fucking you.
You throw your head back as he brings you to the edge. The coil of pleasure inside is getting harder and harder to hold back.
He is relentless, his cock filling your tightness, while he kisses down your chin, your jawline, and your neck.
"Bucky." It's quiet but you know he can hear.
He pulls away from your collarbones and leans in, his forehead against yours. You are consumed by the feral look in his eyes. "It's okay. Cum for me."
You fall apart at his command. Between him and the wall you're pressed against, there's nothing you can do but take it. Your muscles contract around him and you let out a whimper as his cock brings you over the edge again. Warm, intense pleasure floods your body.
He watches you orgasm so intensely, it's almost scary, but he doesn't slow his pace. When he glances down, he lets out a pained moan at the sight of his cock impaling you and suddenly he's going even faster, stronger. "So good - oh - oh fuck yes - " He groans as hot spurts of his cum fill you from deep inside. At the same time there's a sudden slam beside your head.
Dust puffs out from the hole his metal fist just made in the wall. He knows he should be shocked, but all he can think about is the way you're taking him so damn well right now. In fact, you show no signs of fear when he glances back up at you. Jesus, he thinks, does nothing scare her? As he finally stills inside of you, panting, he marvels at the way you look at him.
You watch almost hungrily as he extracts his metal fist from the wall. Pieces of crumbling plaster hit the shower floor as dust is washed down the drain. As he flexes his metal hand, your pussy clenches.
He hisses. "Fuck, doll."
"Sorry." You didn't realise how much you liked his metal arm, but you can't seem to look away from it.
His eyes darken as he catches you staring at it. With almost no effort, he lifts you from the wall and sets you down away from the debris. In the process, he pulls out of you, and you can feel him dripping down your leg.
He leans back under the shower water for a moment, running his hands through his hair. Christ.
"How was I?"
You blink. "What?"
He ducks out of the water. "The sex. Did you like it?"
Your heart skips a beat. "Oh." You notice he's deliberately not meeting your gaze; his eyes flicking between the hole in the wall, and the floor. "Yep - yes. It was good."
He nods; clears his throat. "Good."
You narrow your eyes at him. A minute ago he was fucking you against a wall, and now he's too shy to even look at you? You can't figure this man out. "Everything okay?"
"I'll pay for the wall," is all he says as he goes to leave.
Your heart sinks; something's wrong. His frame takes up so much of the shower, you have to back up as much as you can to let him pass.
As he brushes past you, he hesitates. Then, he looks at you; studying your face. "I really don't scare you?" He gestures to the hole in the wall.
Oh. Your gaze softens. "No, Bucky."
His chest rises and falls, and there's a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. Before you can say anything else, he leans in and kisses you again.
46 notes · View notes
War of Hearts Series.
(Dark) Prince!Bucky x Dark Fae!Reader
Run-through: The Prince had everything. Yet, he had to keep the one he loved more than life itself hidden away, deep within the woods. Because there was one major issue. You were a Dark Fae, and your kind and humans didn’t mix well - following a war which took place between magical beings and humans not long ago - so Bucky couldn’t bring you home, to his kingdom, at least not while his father was still the King. However, the Prince was willing to do whatever it took if it meant that you and him could be together forever, without having to hide your relationship. Bucky had grown up hearing that everything is fair when it came to war and the matters of the heart; and this was both. He would stop at nothing, he would do anything just so he can be with you. Anything.
Themes: Prince!Bucky, smut, fluff, dark themes - death, manipulation, jealousy, breeding kink
War of Hearts: On going
Part 3 - coming soon
Comment down below or send me an ask to be added to the tag list for this series ;)
148 notes · View notes
pairing: dark!bucky barnes x reader
warnings: violence (not really detailed, but you can guess what he's trying to do), reader crying & begging, possessive behavior, bucky being a bit gross
a/n: idk why or how, but I had this idea of dark!bucky being possessive about reader having an old tattoo of their ex's name and trying to cut it off. (also, ik this is short + not really a fic, but I still wanted to include warnings just in case) *and if anyone like this idea, feel free to use it in a fic! I want to see y'all's interpretation*
the pain was searing hot; it was a surprise you haven't passed out yet, but he was delighted you were conscious and aware – having you witness what he was doing to you, what he was trying to erase.
as soon as bucky discovered your ex's name still inked on your body, it brought out something dark within him: possession slithered its way across his hands, coiled tightly around the handle of his blade.
“you're with me now, doll. I don't see why you haven't had this removed, when they're out of the picture.”
your stomach flipped in sync with his movements; the knife glinted in the light each time it dropped back down in his vibranium hand.
“b-bucky, you're scaring me,” your eyes darted frantically, like a cornered animal seeking an escape.
“no, no, it's okay. I'm doing this for us,” he cooed. “now, hold still for me, okay?”
you couldn't have outrun him even if you tried – you were no match for his super serum enhanced abilities. he had you on your back in a blur, his knees pressed down on your chest; the weight of him was oppressive.
“bucky, stop!” you wheezed. “please, don't do this!” you thrashed in his hold, eyes wild and pleading.
“do you not love me? is that why their name is still on you?” he gritted out, froth collecting at the corner of his mouth with every word. “maybe I should brand you as mine. leave a mark that will stay with you forever. won't you like that?”
tears spilled down your cheeks in a steady flow. bucky groaned as he took in the sight; his rough tongue lapped it up greedily – you flinched with every stroke, earning you a deep chuckle.
“are you ready, darlin'?” he grinned down at you, vibranium arm whirring as he brought the weapon closer to the offensive word engrained into your skin.
63 notes · View notes
Are You Mine?
Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: You made the mistake of falling for the mysterious and handsome stranger you met in New York. Unfortunately for you, you never asked about his line of work.
Are you mine tomorrow? Or just mine tonight.
Warnings: Dub/Con (I’ll list Non/Con to be safe), Protective/Possessive Bucky, hate sex, vulgar language, violence, degradation, knife play, overstimulation. 18+ only. Proceed with discretion.
“C’mon doll, don’t do something stupid.” James warned with a debonair smirk.
The dark, goading look in his eyes made your heart constrict. His pupils were dilated and you knew the look all too well. He wasn’t angry, no. He was ravenous.
“Stay with me.” He coaxed, gently this time, setting down his glass of bourbon to cup your face. He was so close that you could feel the warm timber of the words that rumbled in his chest. “You don’t have to be scared.”
His words would have melted into your skin if not for the heavy implication behind them.
He wanted you to give up your family, your life, your everything to be his. You weren’t scared, no. You were angry.
James pulled your attention back to him with the caress of his thumb on your cheek. Firm, yet gentle. Always in control. He drew you in like waves to the shore.
“Come on, doll. Are you mine?” His seductive purr made you shiver and he knew it. Your skin crawled at how easy he could manipulate your body.
But defiance was carved into corners of your heart and you weren’t giving up without a fight. And while you closed the space between you your hand reached down, gliding across the cool crystal glass of bourbon.
Whispering against his ear your control snapped.
Before James could react you used every ounce of your energy to propel your arm, shattering the glass across the side of his head.
He fell to the ground with a thunk.
And for a moment, just for a moment, you looked at him with pity. You cared about James, hell, maybe you even loved him. And you didn’t want anything to do with him.
Hysteria was an ice bath to the system when you saw the splintered glass in your hands. And the blood. You needed to get out of there.
The front door was not an option. Someone could be waiting for James to come back downstairs and you didn’t want to run into any of his goons.
Goons. What a word.
Your thoughts drifted back to when James introduced you to his friends Steve and Sam. You had just started seeing him and he took you to the greasiest pizza place on the east side. Together the three of them were so happy, so carefree. You loved every moment of being with them.
Like a punch to the stomach you shook your head. They were all just muscle men. They hurt people. They weren’t your friends.
So you ran to the window and looked out to the countryside before pulling yourself out and over, sparing one last glance at the man passed out on the carpet.
You ran through the yard and climbed the neighbors fence and ran until your lungs burned and legs ached. You didn’t stop until you made it to a part of town where you could call a taxi to take you home.
And then a thought struck you; you couldn’t go home. If anyone came looking for you that’s the first place they would go. Giving the driver different directions halfway through the drive you had to stay on your toes.
It wouldn’t be too long before they knew what you did. You needed to find somewhere safe.
The thought of running to the police would have been more appealing if you didn’t already know that the police worked for James. He was untouchable. How did you not see it before?
A thought struck you - you had an aunt that lived just outside of town. She was estranged and it had been years since you had seen her, but it was the only place you could think to go. She was one of the people you had never told James about.
Stopping at the end of her street you walked the rest of the way, looking over your shoulder the entire way. Every crunch of leaves and sounds of cars in the distance made you jump.
But you were alone.
The house was quiet and overgrown in ivy from years of neglect. The lights were off. It must have been pretty late, after all. Rummaging the potted plants until you found the spare key you let yourself in quietly, and it wasn’t until you closed and locked the door behind you that you let out a breath you had been holding all night.
You were running away. You were running away from a life of crime and hostility and fear. All on your own, you had run away from the largest mobster in New York.
You couldn’t go home. Nomadic in your own right you would have to keep running.
“Auntie.” You called out once, turning to face the walkway. The house was quiet. “Auntie, I hate to show up like this -”
Stepping from the walkway towards the living room you stopped. It was too quiet. Turning to the light switch you flipped it on in a hurry. The sinking feeling escalated when the house remained dark. Dark and alone, your heart was hammering. No. No.
And then the familiar sound of a metal lighter made your eyes snap to the living room.
Even in the dark, sitting in the silence, the silhouette of a man sitting in your aunt’s chair was all too familiar.
He didn’t say anything but toyed with the lighter, the flame licking light into the room. Even in the flickering glow he looked just the same as you had remembered him, as if it wasn’t his blood dried into the cracks of your hands.
James looked as composed as you had ever seen him, but his eyes told a different story. If looks could kill.
“I think we ought to have a talk, doll.”
You couldn’t find the words to say. James was a ghost in your story and you were stunned into silence.
His sneer was muted by the way he licked his lips, teeth catching them in a way that was practiced. He knew exactly what he was doing.
“I think you’ve stated your position clearly.” He taunted, letting the light go out once more. “And now I’m going to state mine.”
It was a business transaction to him, and if you wouldn’t have been flooded with adrenaline you might have had the good sense to make a run for it. But you were trapped under his stare. His blue eyes were swallowed by the darkness of the night until he looked like one of the monsters in one of your bedtime stories.
This wasn’t the man you knew at all.
“We’re going home.” James cocked his head to the side, eyeing the way your hands were shaking. It made his lip twitch up into a muted smirk. “And then I’m going to teach you some manners.”
His words were the switch you needed, blinking in anger at his assumption.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, Bucky.”
Oh, and that got his attention.
You had never called him that. Everyone else called him Bucky, and his real name was reserved for you. He was proud in admitting that it was the second best sound you could make. Saying his name. Screaming it for the neighbors to hear.
But not now. Not anymore. He had taken your love and trust and manipulated you. He wasn’t the hero in your story.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong sweetheart.” He grinned but it was a cold, detached grin that didn’t make it up to his eyes.
You had only seen that look in his eyes once before. It was before you watched him knock some guy’s lights out after an incident at a restaurant. Steve tried to deflect you, to steal your attention away from the scene, but you couldn’t forget the sickening crunch of broken bones.
And it was all because of you.
James needed to step away from the table to take a call and in the time it took him to leave the waiter - or what you had thought was a waiter - was trying to steal you away from the table.
To steal you away from James. Of course you didn’t know what to make of it. And then when you noticed the gun tucked away in his jacket pocket you couldn’t help but freeze up.
“Come with us princess. And you better not make any noise.”
You weren’t taught to be a fighter and never needed to be one, and with shaking hands you followed the thugs. Your eyes desperately roamed the restaurant until they finally found the solace of Steve’s baby blues, and while your own were filled with fear his eyes hardened into something wicked. Something mean.
You weren’t just pulled out from the restaurant, but were yanked like someone’s life depended on it. In hindsight it very well could have.
That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Someone had laid a hand on you, and James watched as it happened. And then before you knew it all hell had broken loose.
Tables were kicked over and windows were broken and people were screaming bloody murder.
You couldn’t pinpoint the moment between when James threw a coat rack like a javelin or when you were pushed to the ground by the frightened wait staff, but it all happened so fast. You couldn’t tell who was a thug and who was just caught in the fray. And then, when you flinched away when someone else touched you it was Steve, holding his hands out in peace.
Strong and imposing as he was, he wasn’t going to hurt you. He saved you, pulling you away from the mess.
Your heart ached.
A frustrated tear slid over the slope of your cheek, and before you could wipe it away James was already there. He had moved across the room and was watching you with a curious expression, brushing the tear away with his thumb.
You didn’t even hear him approach. Closing your eyes, you couldn’t admit your defeat.
It wasn’t fair and you knew it.
“I am going to give you credit.” James spoke slowly so that you could hang on every word. “I didn’t think you had it in you to fight, and I’m proud of your will.”
He caught another rogue tear, watching your composure crumble in his hands. You had fought so hard. Had run so long. “But you will not fight me on this. Baby, you’re not getting away from me.”
Leaning back against his hand you took a breath.
“How?” You mustered, opening your eyes slowly, like it might have all been a dream. “How did you even find me?”
He didn’t reply right away, a somber grin on his lips.
James was digging into his pocket with his free hand and pulled his phone out before showing you the small going dot on the map. It was your location. He was tracking you the whole goddamned time.
“Because you belong to me.” He paused for a moment, biting his lip. “And I care for you too much.”
His touch lingered, moving his hand from your cheek down your jaw and around the back of your neck. Crushing you closer he reeled you in, nose to nose until you could see that hard exterior of his start to crack.
He was full of malice and frustration but you saw something more. He was trying to stay calm.
“I mean it.”
And with a heavy exhale you stared back at him, crushed by his admission. Your heartstrings were aching. Of course you wanted to believe it. But that wasn’t realistic.
“I can’t do this.” You croaked, biting back the bile on your tongue. “I can’t be your girl, James.”
He shook his head once, nose brushing against your own.
“Yes you can. I know you can.”
And then, like his mask had been cast to the side he looked at you void of all the rage he carried before. It was just him. Sweet and kind. Your James.
The pitiful whine that left your throat left you weak. Why couldn’t he have been the man of your dreams? He had been perfect. He was so much more than you could have ever wanted.
James observed you the same way. He was watching as you shed the layers of pain and deceit and heartache. He knew it was inevitable.
Deep down he must have understood, at least to an extent, that beyond everything else you were vulnerable.
And he loved that about you.
You loved with your whole heart and hurt just the same. And he knew that this was going to hurt.
He guided you into a kiss, the hand at the back of your neck holding you close while you tensed up. You didn’t fight him, but you didn’t open up for him either.
Oh yes. This was going to hurt.
When James pulled away it was with lofty breath, and his unguarded expression had hardened back into the businessman mask. Cold and closed off, he turned you by the neck to face the door. Against the shell of your ear you heard his enunciated demand.
“Enough running. It’s time to go.”
And at last he let go of your neck, letting you stumble forward on your own. James watched you closely, waiting for you to take your next move.
It was a game of chess and you needed to stay one move ahead of him.
You had fought so hard to get to keep your future your own and you were starting to rewrite it without James Barnes. There would be no going back after this.
So you drew your leg back between his own hard and without mercy, and you knew you had hit your target when a low hiss spilled from James lips. And then when he was down on his knees you took your chance.
With any luck he would stay down. Damn him and his sweet words and his condescending power play. You weren’t going to give everything up for him.
Instead of running out the front door you turned at the stairs in the entryway, taking them two at a time without looking back.
You could run to one of the back bedrooms and jump out the second story window -
And then on the last step a hand shot out and grabbed your ankle, hurdling you back. All of your momentum was absorbed by James, and instead of falling down the stairs he spun you around, pinning your body between him and the steps.
The wood was biting into your back and hip and his weight kept you pinned down. His smile was long gone. His eyes burned with something brutal.
“I said enough.”
Your chest was heaving, breathing uneven, and he wasn’t even breaking a sweat. As a last resort you took to hitting his chest to try and break him off. You needed space but James hardly reacted, and when he did it was to pin your hands with a quick shush.
Hovering over you he shook his head, biting his lip at the compromising position you were in.
“I was going to give you a minute to catch your breath,” He taunted with another smirk, shifting his weight over you. “I can see that your heart is jumping out of your chest.”
He was provoking you.
“But you had to go and do something stupid.”
Pulling one of his hands back to the other pocket he procured the pocket knife he carried. He would never -
“But that’s fine sweetheart. It doesn’t change anything.”
You stopped fighting against him the moment he moved the blade across your cheek, pressing just enough to get his point across. Holding a finger to his lips he pulled out his phone with the other hand.
It rang once, and when someone answered James moved the blade in warning across your bottom lip.
“Leave the car.” He ordered into the phone, pressing the dull side of the knife against your lips. “This is going to take a while.”
With a click the call was disconnected and his attention shifted back on you.
“You’ve done a number on me tonight.” James chastised, running his free hand over the side of his head where the glass was smashed. “And I was so goddamned angry with you, you little minx.”
With a tsk he dipped the knife lower, down to your heaving chest.
“But it was so fucking sexy. I couldn’t stay mad.”
Eyes widening at his words you tried your best to stay still. The kind, compassionate man you cared for was also this feral beast.
He shushed you again with the knife, a devilish twinkle in his eyes.
“And even now you defy me.” He purred, moving the knife away so that he could admire you. He treasured you, coveted you, and would do anything to keep you. “You drive me mad.”
In a beat he changed again, leaning down to capture you in a poisonous kiss. James was possessive and domineering, more than he had ever been before.
Even now, trapped underneath him, your body was succumbing to him. It was familiar with him, calling for him, and he used it to his advantage.
He had ruined you.
James was goading, teasing your tongue with his own until a groan was swallowed by him. He was trying to remind you, to coax you back the way things were.
He was still the same man. Your man.
You hated him so much.
And then you kissed him back.
Fueled by white hot rage you kissed him back.
Every kiss and bite on his lips and every scratch of your nails against his arms was to pronounce your fury. You yanked at his hair, still threatened by the knife at your chest. The cold metal made your pulse jump.
You loved him and hated him and needed him.
His groan spurred you on, teeth clashing, tongues fighting, lips bruising. When James finally pulled away you were lightheaded.
“You’re it for me, doll. Why can’t you see it?”
James pulled at your thighs, drawing them around his body before settling both of his hands to your backside. The knife was forgotten, second place to harshly groping your ass.
Before you could protest he had moved, pulling you up and away from the unforgiving wooden stairs and closer to his body as he stood. Your arms held onto his shoulders, eyes on his.
The storm in your eyes was exactly what he was hoping for.
“Use your words. Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same.”
“We can’t do this.” You implored, grasping to his shoulders to stop him. “I hate you. I can’t lose everything I have for you.”
“But you care for me.”
His smooth words made your pulse jump.
“Of course I fucking care! But none of this is okay.” You roared, smacking him across the chest for good measure.
If anything it spurred him on. James could take the pain. All that mattered was that you cared about him and he was going to use it as leverage.
“I care about you too, doll.” He urged. “I’m going to change your mind.”
“Like hell you are.”
James smacked your ass with vigor, smirking at your yelp. There was light filtering in from the window that exaggerated his features. He was striking with his eyes blown wide and his cheeks sharp enough to cut. He was more unhinged than you had seen.
“I get it, sweetheart. You’re upset.”
He pulled you in, tugging at your bottom lip harder than before. The whine that fell from your lips echoed through the room.
“So why don’t we make use of all that pent up energy?”
James rushed forward, charging you into the wall. Your back stung and you could hear a picture frame crack from the force of it.
He swallowed your pained hiss with his lips.
The rush of it all made your body hot and angry, and James was branding your skin as his own. He nipped at your lips and your jaw and your neck. His sharp bite made you push your chest out at the sting. You were pushing him away, nails digging into his shoulder.
He wasn’t deterred. James’ hands kneaded your ass painfully before moving around your thighs and to your hips.
He was holding you up only with his strength and the pressure against the wall, and you only helped his cause by tightening your legs around him. The friction of your jeans against his body only made your body buzz to life. Fuck.
His thumbs rolled over the indent of your nipples through your bra and James groaned. He wasn’t satisfied.
The rational part of your brain was silenced when he roared, using both of his hands to tear your shirt straight down the middle. The ripping of cloth made you jump, watching his hungry expression land on you.
Fiery eyes were on yours he reached up again, and with a hefty yank the bra was destroyed.
He wasted no time grinding against your covered core in hard, forceful pulls. The brutal snaps of his hips and bruising hold on yours left you reeling. Between your jeans and the confines of his slacks you could feel the heavy outline of his aggression aching.
He was going to destroy you.
And all the while his hand yanked at your hair to gain access to your neck. Sharp teeth bit down at the apex there, and with a hearty shriek you pushed against him. The sting at your scalp and jumping pulse at your neck sent you into overdrive, and when you groaned against him again he cupped his other hand over your mouth.
At the sound of muted whines he smirked against your skin, biting down again. Biting and sucking, he was marking his way down to your chest.
Hot and angry, your skin jumped with goosebumps. He was showing no mercy, and with a fervent hunger he pulled and sucked at the skin sloping down your chest. He let go of your hair, focusing on overstimulating the breast he couldn’t latch onto with his mouth.
His grip was brutal, kneading and pinching and groping while his mouth assaulted your other nipple. You couldn’t push away, only managing to push out your chest for him to use as he pleased.
And the grinding. It was all too much. With one exceptionally hard thrust the picture frame fell behind you and you gasped. Legs shaking, you were losing your grip.
The pain had left a wave of pleasure in its wake.
When he pulled up James’ lips we bruised and parted, a thin line of red outlining his bottom lip. Blood. He had drawn blood. And then his lips were back on yours, both of his hands at the sides of your face.
“Still with me sweetheart?” James teased.
His eyes had moved down between you, and with it his hands. You were mortified. Down the slope of your chest bruises were building. Worse yet, at the apex of your legs a dark, wet outline from the friction of his thrusts.
“Would you look at that?” He whispered in awe.
Fingers dancing between you he rubbed right there, right at the outline of your cunt.
“You’re soaked babe. Should I take care of that for you?”
His offer was tormenting. Your nails were digging into his jacket sleeves, trying to push him back.
“No, no James.” You pleaded, pushing at his sides. “This is all your fault.”
He jeered out a laugh.
“You know, I think I know just the thing. You wanna act stupid?” He warned lightly, and with a smack at your ass he pulled you away from the wall. “Fine baby, I’ll fuck you stupid.”
His long strides made quick work of the space, throwing you down to the ground in one of the rooms. Overstimulated by his swift movements the next thing you knew he was tugging at your jeans.
“James, f-fuck off.” You struggled to find the words, pushing at his chest. “I, I mean it -”
“Me too.” He promised earnestly, and once the pants and panties were cast aside he gave you another chafing look. “Look at me.”
The raging fire within you was fueled again by his taunting. When his hand moved your chin for you you gasped at him and then the mess between your legs.
Even in the low light the gleam of slick was coating your skin.
“I think you love this.” He preened. “Your body loves this.”
And then his hand attacked with the speed of a viper, cupping your cunt fully. His fingers toyed there, swiping back and forth to create a sloppy sound for you to hear.
“Tell me to stop.” James teased darkly. “Tell me to fucking stop.”
But you couldn’t. You had no time. His fingers had lined up and attacked your cunt. Your soft, aching walls were burning for contact and he scissored them open. You were positively dripping for him. His harsh attacks were focused. His thumb was pressed down hard on your clit.
James was stroking at a devil’s pace, and your legs locked up when he hit a certain way.
His eyes told a story all their own. Jackpot.
He was relentless, aiming for that spot to make you jump.
And he found it. Over and over he assaulted that spot until you were writhing. Even then he didn’t stop.
Oh god, he didn’t stop and then you were gushing all over his hand and down your legs and onto the floor.
James was making a mess of you, and your blubbering had turned into lofty moans when he paid attention to your clit. And he didn’t stop, wringing out the pleasure from your body with forceful orchestrations.
Your legs were tired and your stomach was taught from contracting over and over again.
“Such a fucking pretty cunt. So good to me.” He purred out with a smirk. “You like that?”
When you couldn’t find the words to reply he yanked at your hair again. Crying out he looked at you down the bridge of his nose expectantly.
“Stay with me.” He warned. “You like it when I take you apart. Who would have thought? Maybe if we did this sooner you wouldn’t have ran.”
You hesitated when he let his fingers go still inside you. Holding a breath you tried your hardest not to react, but your cunt was clenching around him like your life depended on it.
“I hate you.”
Your tone said otherwise. You had to swallow a moan as his fingers left you empty, wiping away your mess against your hip.
James was challenging you behind a cheshire grin and when you couldn’t come up with a quick enough reply he pulled you up by your arms, spinning and pushing you down against the edge of the bed.
Pushing your legs apart he hummed in appreciation. Ass in the air and nose to the sheets you turned your head to face him.
James was in a hurry to rip his own clothes off, tossing them to the side before he licked his lips. The way he stalked back over to you was primal, ravenous.
“I’m going to break you, doll.” He promised.
A quick sting rippled through you as he spanked your ass cheek, making you wince into the sheets.
“You are going to break and you are going to beg, and are going to wish that you would have just listened to me.”
Another spank made your skin jump.
In an instant he lunged, his fat cock spearing you open with a grunt. You couldn’t take it - weren’t prepared for the intensity of it.
Your legs were still shaking from the mess you made on the ground.
James was merciless, plunging deep and hard and fast until it stung at the corners of your eyes. Your body ached at the assault. With every thrust his balls were slapping against you and his cock was grazing the most sensitive parts of you.
Whimpers turned into full on howls when his hand found your hair again, yanking you up to meet him.
“James!” You yelled out in frustration and pain, and the bubbling noises of anguish racked your body.
He was using you to keep himself suspended, and the burn made you yelp. You needed to use your arms to keep you steady as he ground his pelvis into your backside.
And he didn’t stop.
James was going to break the goddamned bed. His other hand was there, digging into your hips before it danced around to the front of your pelvis. His hand slithered further, until he could trace your clit with quick brushstrokes.
“James,” Your panting was broken up by another sharp thrust.
His cock nudged deeper and deeper into your body until your toes were curling at the pressure.
“No, I can’t. I can’t!”
“You say that a lot, sweetheart.”
James chuckled, pulling your head back far enough to groan against your ear.
“You can take it.”
And with that he released your hair, letting you fall back to the bed while he took you from behind. One hand against your hip stabilized him as he ground his body against yours and the other had found respite at your clit.
A thunderous roar poured from your lips as you came hard and fast around him.
Your body ached with electric jolts but James didn’t let off the gas, pulling pleasure from your clit until you begged him to stop.
You pushed at his hand feebly and when James finally let go it was only to settle both of them at your hips. It was a dangerous position to be in.
His stamina seemed limitless, only ebbed on by your defiance. You scratched at his legs to push him back but his weight was too much. He had you surrounded.
“You’re the only girl for me.” He chanted. “And I’m the only man for you. You are taking my cock like a goddess. My little minx.” He laughed when you scratched him.
His ruthless thrusts burned you from the inside out, until your voice was hoarse and your makeup was smeared. And he didn’t ease up until all that you felt were the hard planes of his body melting into your own.
The fight was being pulled out from you as James took it and converted it into his own power.
“You don’t hate me.” He soothed against your shoulder. “I know you don’t.”
His thrusts had changed, and his long strokes were replaced with quick, shallow ones.
“You love me.” He added with a grunt, his voice cracking. “And I love you.”
Your ears pricked up.
He had never said that before.
You hardly had the energy to turn your head to look back at James, and as you looked across the planes of your body, between the blood and the sweat and your own sticky mess your eyes found his.
He was losing his control.
The dopey, stupid look in your eyes was his undoing. With a final thrust he stilled, seated and sated, and he looked at you with clarity.
A moment passed filled with longing and aching and vulnerability.
“You love me?” You whispered at last, vocal chords aching.
James, with his blown out eyes and his chest heaving hovered over you with a gentleness that had yet to make itself known.
“Of course I do.” He kissed the curve of your shoulder. “Of course baby.”
And when his hands caressed your sides lovingly you almost gasped.
“Are you mine, Y/N?”
His question sent a shiver down your spine. James rarely used your name.
And even now, though your mind and body disagreed, your heart had fallen into a content, steady rhythm.
A slow, creeping smile tugged at your lips.
“I suppose I am.”
That was all he wanted to hear you say - that you were his.
James hummed his satisfaction, kissing your forehead tenderly.
“No more running, little minx. Let’s go home.”
Your eyes were heavy as he moved away and wrapped a blanket around your body, and as he pulled you up into his arms you knew that with every step back to the car your fate was sealed.
And the thrill of the chase moves in mysterious ways
So in case I'm mistaken, I just wanna hear you say
“You got me, baby. Are you mine?"
227 notes · View notes
AN: So I got this Idea from a friend of mine. She posted a video on TT and I just riffed off of it. and this was born lol Hope you enjoy it @kitkatkuzzz
DARK! DEGRIDATION PRAISE GENERAL DEPRAVITY MINORS DNI 18+
Your skin feels slick with sweat. You are dizzy with the tranquilizer still in your system. You can’t see anything since you are blindfolded. Your mouth feels like it was stuffed with cotton. So very dry. You feel someone pick you up from the floor. One hand is warm on your arm the other is cold. You flinch at it. “oh, look the pretty little slut is awake” the man holding you states no he actually coos it out. He places you in a chair. You sit up as straight as you can trying to hold in your fear. You hear another set of footsteps, and the blindfold is ripped off. You wince at the sudden flash of light. Your gaze is cast out to your friend. He looks into your eyes, and you see the desperation in his gaze. No, it is more than that it is a wild untamed need. It instinctive makes you take in a breath. You try to speak to him but your voice betrays your facade of being brave “Je…fff..eerr.sson [coughing to clear your throat] what is this all about?” He is leaning on his out-stretched arm that is on the doorframe he gives you a sickly-sweet smile that doesn’t reach his blown-out eyes. He saunters up to you getting as close to you as possible. Leans his face into yours looking into your eyes that look like a deer stuck in headlights. His nose touching yours. “Y/N, princess, this is something we have been planning since we became friends. Just James here couldn’t hold on for a few more weeks.” You search his eyes for the friend you have been getting to know. The sweet man who has been hanging out with this past month. It seems like it is gone but when you feel his hands on your face touching gently like if you were made of the finest silk. You lean into his warm touch on instinct. You snaped your head back when you saw a man with short hair and facial hair not long but more than a 5 o’clock shadow. He walked lazily into your line of vision. He bends down to your eye level. Something about his gaze makes your cut drip with excitement. You can’t explain why. You are tied up in a place you do not know with two men who you know have no intention of letting you go without something devious happening. Jefferson moves to behind the chair where they have you. You try to follow him with your gaze. When you feel cold metal fingers on your chin. “Eyes on me Doll” you try to move your head out of his grip. He grabs on tighter “tsk tsk now that is not how My Doll would react. If you keep this up I will treat you like the whore I know you are.” He starts moving his pinky metal finger to your lips forcing your mouth open. “Open like a good girl that I know you are.” You slack your jaw ever so slightly allowing his pinky to go beyond your teeth to open your mouth. You feel Jefferson’s hands on your shoulders. You feel his warmth next to your ear. “Now Y/N I need you to treat Bucky there like if he is me give him all your attention like you do to me princess.” You let out a low whimper. Then while Jefferson is rubbing your shoulders and neck to get you to relax. You feel Bucky push his finger down into your mouth touching your cheek from the inside going all the way back to your throat to cause you to gag on his finger. He gives you a devious smile. “Jefferson, I think we have the perfect girl here. Want to get her so cock drunk that she doesn’t recognize who is who.” You hear shears next to your ears. You also see Bucky pull out his pocketknife. Your eyes start to dart in a panic. “Aww look at this Jefferson. She is scared like a dumb little girl. Scared and turned.” You hear Jefferson laugh behind you. You feel his breath at the cuff of your ear. “Princess, relax and enjoy. Don’t make me get angry with you.” He presses the edge of the shears to your pulse on your neck. Something about the cold and sharp edge on your skin makes your breath hitch. “Oookkkaaay.. I will be good.” They both hum in response. The next moment your clothes are being ripped off of you. first your lace red blouse leaving you in your black lace bralette. Next is your dark blue skinny jeans just ripped in half leaving you in your black thong. Both men stare at you
visibly salivating like two wolves who are just about to devour a rabbit that they just caught. They both make quick work of your bound hands and legs. You look between Bucky and the door in front of you. You are contemplating how fast you could make it to the door to get out of here. “Now don’t make us tie you to the bed because we will. But we want to trust you wont run.” You hear Jefferson’s warning behind you. But what stops you is not his warning it is the look Bucky was giving you. Like if taunting you to try like he would enjoy hunting you like the prey you were. Your skin rippled in goosebumps at the look. you feel Jefferson’s warm hands grazing on your shoulders. Bucky reaches out with his flesh hand, and you put your hand in his and he pulls you to him pressing you flushed against him. You try to walk back to put space between the both of you. He proceeds to slam his lips onto yours not caring if your lip split. The kiss is nothing but pure unbridled passion. You feel Jefferson’s lips on the crook of your neck nibbling and sucking on your pulse point. You are not able to control the moan that escapes your mouth as you pull off of Bucky’s lips to get air. Before you knew what was happening you feel your bra unclasp and fall to the floor allowing for your breast to spring free. Next you feel your thong being ripped off. You feel two sets of hands on your body. One is cupping your breast tweaking your nipples rolling them between his warm fingers. Then one set cold and warm on your thighs and legs just rubbing the outside and inside. You close your eyes in the building pleasure as your cunt starts to drip onto your inner thighs. Bucky picks you up like you weigh nothing and tosses you like a ragdoll onto the bed in the corner that you did not know was there. Before you can get up from the bed both of them are on you. Jefferson kissing you passionately making you dizzy. You have wanted to kiss him to feel him for a few days now it feels like you are slipping into another realm of existence. Once he pulls away, he gets off the bed and Bucky is now on the bed next to you. before you could ask what was going on Jefferson speaks. “Princess I need you to get on Bucky’s face let him taste you while I fuck your face. Think you can do that for us be the little slut we need you to be.” You clench your thighs together at the prospect of all of this actually happening. You have no idea why you are turned on or even doing this. They had drugged you and brought you here against your will. Before your brain could talk you out of it you are climbing onto of Bucky positioning yourself on top of him. He grabs on to your hips as you hoover on top of his mouth. You hear him groan. “Damn Doll you really are our slut look at how wet you are. Can’t wait to taste this pretty pussy.” Jefferson pulls you towards him next to his hard and red cock already leaking precum. As you feel Bucky lower you closer to him you grab onto Jefferson’s cock. Both you and Bucky take the first lick at the same time. You lick Jefferson’s cock from the underside following the vein that goes to the tip. You feel Bucky’s hot tongue take a long slow lick from your opening to the pulsing bundle of nerves. You let out a heated moan onto Jefferson’s cock as you suck on the tip while twirling your tongue. You are so los in the feeling of Bucky’s tongue and the takes of Jefferson’s cock you don’t notice the look they both do. One moment you are slowly taking his cock into your mouth the next moment. Jefferson grabs you the hair and slams his cock into your throat and holding you there while you gag on him. At that exact moment making your eyes roll back Bucky shoves his tongue into your velvet folds. Jefferson takes you off of his cock and smiles at you like he is a man lost in passion you are drooling over your chin and some tears coming out of your eyes before you could say anything he is pushing is cock back into your throat and sets up brutal pace. All you can do is slack your jaw to allow him to fuck your face. Bucky is setting an excruciating slow pace
enjoying your taste enjoying the feeling of your walls clinging onto his tongue wanting more. He starts to feel you clenching onto him. He moves his metal fingers to small tight circles around your clit that is now swollen and red. He pinches it causing you to whine on Jefferson’s cock he smiles and applies pressure to his circles while sucking on your inner lips before properly tongue fucking you. you are withering within minutes of them playing you to their will. You feel Jefferson falter a bit and you go to play with his balls messaging them. You pinch his ball sack gently and you hear him curse and he slams his cock into your throat. you feel his hot seed against your throat. You cum on Bucky’s face and he takes each and every drop of you not letting any of it escape him. You swallow Jefferson’s seed. He pulls out and your pupils are blown complete in utter pleasure drunk. You fall back onto the bed next to Bucky. You both kiss. You moan at your taste on his lips. You look down and notice Bucky’s weeping red no purple cock. You lick your lips and go down to his cock and press a sweet innocent kiss onto the tip. You do a small kitten lick on the tip putting the tip of your tongue into the leaking tip. You hear him moan. You kneel at the edge of the bed and start to suck on his tip. You then feel Jefferson grab onto your legs lifting you. Before you could ask what was happening. You feel the tip of Jefferson’s cock at your entrance. You start to lower your head on Bucky’s massive cock it is so thick and long. You are not sure if you could take it all, but you will try your best. Once you were halfway down you feel Jefferson enter you causing you to moan, and Bucky bucks his cock into your throat, and he grabs your head and keeps you there. “Ah Fuck Bucky her cunt is so tight fuck it feels like heaven.” “Fucking hell Doll that mouth of yours feels so good you want to get used like a little slut don’t you want us to pump you full of our cum in your holes.” All you could do is nod yes. While hollowing out your cheeks. You feel every inch of Jefferson’s cock slowly drilling you. as you whine on Bucky’s cock. “I think she wants to get fucked like the whore she is Jefferson.” You hear Jefferson grunt and feel him grip your hips. He starts to piston into you all you could do is focus on regulating your breathing as you suck Bucky’s cock. As you get closer to your orgasm you double your effort in getting Bucky off. He takes control and starts to fuck your face as Jefferson fucks you. you are completely blissed out not caring at the sound of their grunts and their derogatory words of how they are using you like a whore and the slut that you were how you would be pumped full of the cum. The three of you reach your peaks together you are left twitching on the bed with cum dripping out of your cunt. You are then lifted up. Your arms are then tied together. “It’s not too tight is it Doll?” you look into Bucky’s blue eyes you are just able to make out the words and shake your head no and he gives you the brightest smile. He pulls your arms over his head, so your arms are over his shoulders. He grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist. You have no idea how he is hard again. But he his and is positioning his cock at your entrance rubbing the tip at your opening getting his rock-hard cock wet. He starts to lower your hips onto him so he could sheath himself into you. Once he is fully inside. You feel Jefferson behind you. you are about to jump but Bucky holds onto you like a vice. Bucky kisses your lips, and you melt into his kiss. After a few moments you relax and are panting as he moves ever so slightly trying to find your spot once he finds it you feel Jefferson press his tip against your ass you are going to protest when you feel him press in slowly while groaning you then feel Bucky bite your weak spot on your neck and you throw your head back in passion relaxing enough for Jefferson to slip in more. Bucky continues to nibble and suck on your neck you are moaning as Jefferson fully enters your asshole. They both take hold
of your hips and start lifting you slowly off their cocks. You whine at the loss. You feel a metal hand around your throat and metal shears at your weak spot on the crook of your neck. Your cunt just starts to drip with excitement. “Oh, you like this you naughty girl.” Bucky and Jefferson lower you onto their cocks again. Everything is slow and steady at first you feel your abdomen start to tense. You feel Bucky’s hand start to close on the sides depriving you of some oxygen and you feel the tip of the shears graze your shoulders. They both work in unison. Each with a hand around a hip digging into you. they start to pick up the pace before you could moan out with what little breath you have; they start positioning in as they pull you down. You throw your head back with your mouth open without sound as you feel yourself being lost in blinding white heat. Your skin is on fire you have never felt like this everything is hypersensitive you feel like you are being split open but like you are floating at the same time. They are fucking you without a care of your body. Bucky’s grip on your throat is almost murderous. Jefferson is scratching into your shoulders their initials the pain and pleasure is too much you are drooling in pleasure as you fall back into your orgasm you feel them twitch inside you and they both try to race to their release as your coil snaps in your abdomen. You have no idea what is happening, but you moan out from your throat closing your eyes with tears falling and you feel like your soul leaves your body watching you cum on their cocks as they feel your holes with hot thick white seed deep in you. as your soul comes back to your body you are laying on the bed alone. Bucky is bringing out some warm wet towels and cleans you up while Jefferson is treating your shoulder. Bucky then inspects your neck to see if there needs to be done. He just applies a numbing cream to help with pain and unties your wrists and messages them. They both get into bed with you. Both of them cuddling into you one with their head on the right side of your neck the other on your left side of the neck and you hear them both say “Mine” as you fall into blissful sleep.
19 notes · View notes
Nothing to Despair | 20. In the reflected sky
PAIRING: Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before have to go undercover as married on a mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, while she goes through life alone and abandoned. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily convinced.
CHAPTER NOTES: More angst, more smut. Assisted masturbation, creampie, slightly painful sex, sweet dirty talk (from reader) and generally the softest soft-domme!reader ever to be written, reconciliation, jealousy. Also, we get more insight into reader’s thinking and there’s a lot of sadness and dark thoughts.
Thank you for all your lovely comments! Beta-read by @offcast-plus1 <3
WORD COUNT: 6.2k
⸻ [MASTERLIST] [AO3] [TAGLIST]
I was the shadow of the waxwing slain
By the false azure in the windowpane;
I was the smudge of ashen fluff - and I
Lived on, flew on, in the reflected sky.
— Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire
He barely managed to get her back in bed, but she was too tired to fight and too sore to run away. Even Bucky had a hard time getting up, managing to wipe down her thighs and wash up a bit before curling back behind her. It was a while, an hour maybe, before she spoke again, to ask:
"What's the point of it?"
"It's a way to get closer to you," he whispered, pressing his lips to her shoulder blade. "Like kissing you. And holding you. And talking to you. And seeing you. That's why you like to be alone, isn't it?" She wasn't speaking or moving but he felt her pause, as if in thought, and then her head turned slightly in a mute question. "If people can't get close they can't hurt you. Is that it, doll?" The girl frowned and turned away again, letting her head sink back to the pillow. "I'll let you in on something: people don't have to be close to you to hurt you."
"If they do it from a distance, at least that's not your fault," she muttered.
"Alright. Why don't you stop talking around it and just tell me what's been bothering you?"
"You. You're bothering me."
Bucky sighed through his teeth and leaned over, grabbing her chin. "You know what I mean."
"It's none of your business," she hissed, throwing him a sharp glare, small and curled up as she was.
"You're my wife now, it is my business."
She instantly regretted saying anything and decided then and there to never do it again. Like every other needy person, he took everything, anything she said, and used it against her.
"Is it so hard to trust me that you won't even try?" he asked with a firmer grip. "You think you've come across worse people than I have? Even without counting Hydra, or SHIELD for that matter. Whatever kind of double-cross you want, I've had it," Bucky rasped, then with half a hesitation added "including from you."
He regretted saying it before it was even out, but searching her face he saw no changes. She kept the same frown and clenched jaw, looking neither hurt nor moved by what he said. She either didn't feel guilty, or wasn't sorry, and though he didn't apologise he softened anyway, hand moving backward to caress her cheek and brush the hair over her ear. Bucky sighed and pulled her back down, with himself slotted behind her again.
"I want to take everything you've got, doll, good and bad. And I want to give you everything I've got, good and bad… That's what marriage is supposed to be," he said as he started running his fingers on the surface of her arm. "Let me help you carry the bad stuff, sweetheart." But she kept quiet. "If nothing else, at least as a friend?" he tried. She didn't even move, except to clench her jaw tighter. "I don't like knowing you're like this, doll. I hate seeing you unhappy."
She could think of a hundred things to tell him; that she was happy before, that she'd be happy without him, that nobody could be happy for very long anyway, and that he should probably worry more about himself as he was the lonely and pathetic one.
They skipped out on lunch and stayed in bed together. Bucky held her tightly, caressing her now and then, kissing the back of her head, her neck, her shoulder… in the moments of pause between thinking of how he could use what he'd been through to help her. Thinking back to some books his doctor had him read, some strategies he was forced to go through in his therapy, thinking for the first time seriously about what, really, had led him to trust people again, and imagining, at the end of all of it, her loving him back.
She, with her back to him, stared out toward the window at the roiling sea, imagining what it would feel like to jump.
They washed up and dressed for dinner early. Bucky took them to the place she liked best — incidentally the most elegant and expensive — and it was quiet and selective enough for them to speak even in whispers, if they wanted, but she didn't have much to say. Neither of them had had a bite to eat since breakfast, but dinner was difficult for her. She ordered a bowl of soup and spent most of the time just running the spoon over its surface. And he hadn't missed how stiffly she walked, how delicately she sat down — most probably bruised a little bit.
Bucky finished his dinner and spent the rest of the time nursing a glass of whisky. He rested his elbow on the low wall of their booth and braced his temple against a gloved metal index, fingers moving across his lips absentmindedly as he watched her play with her cold food. He didn't want it to be like that, but he couldn't stand it anymore, couldn't keep waiting… however much he'd wanted to. Bucky meant what he said when he said it, during their dance at the hotel: that he would be there for her whenever she was ready. But faced with what that actually meant, he couldn't do it, he couldn't wait. He wanted her, so badly, and now.
"What are you thinking?" he asked in a low voice.
She was probably thinking that if he'd broken that promise, what else was he willing to break? If she'd been right about him once, what else was she right about? Bucky had hoped he was done with putting his own dark thoughts in other people's heads, fearing what they thought, wondering, guessing — which, as his therapist went to great lengths to explain, would always be worse than the reality. 'Course, his therapist had never met his little wife…
"Would it help to say I'm sorry?"
"I'm sorry anyway."
"You're not sorry that you did it," she bit back. "You're sorry of the consequences."
"Guess you're right," he sighed. "I'm sorry that you're hurting, doll…"
She looked up just once and melted his cold eyes with one sidelong stare. "You should've thought about that before."
Bucky clenched his jaw and took a breath. "I'll be more careful next time, alright?" he whispered, but she just cringed and looked back down. Next time…
"I want to go for a walk."
"Eat your dinner first."
They did take a long, sprinkled stroll on the deck afterward. She said the cold made her feel better, and walking helped too, so he couldn't complain. By the time they went back down to their cabin, it was late at night. The ship was normally pretty quiet, but it was quieter now than ever, the people around them all asleep. They stepped lightly through their suite and turned on just a couple of lamps, diffuse golden pools decorating the place against a backdrop of shadowed corners and a chorus of wisping sea. Bucky took off just his shirt before he stopped to watch her. She'd already undone her hair and it fell around her shoulders in that way he liked so much. She took her blouse off, then her skirt off gently, and sat down — on her own bed this time, which he didn't like. Before she got to do anything else, he was kneeling on one leg before her. She gasped as his hands gripped her calves, but soon returned to her stoic nature.
"Get up, Bucky," she sighed.
He brought her ankles together in his lap and massaged them slowly, keeping his eyes on hers. "Can I ask you something?"
"Can I say no?"
"You can," he smiled.
She pursed her lips, but finally said "Go ahead, ask. I'm curious now."
"Do you think I like hurting you?"
It took her a second to think it through before she answered. "I think you don't care, either way."
"Maybe I don't care as much as I should, but I do care," he said as he worked his hands slowly higher. "Do you like hurting me?"
"You are not exactly hurting," she narrowed her eyes. He kept watching as if she said nothing, caressing her legs lightly. "You're not being hurt, Bucky." He reached all the way to her hips, still waiting for an honest answer. "No," she sighed, "it doesn't make me happy."
"So what would make you happy?"
"And don't say letting you go, because that's not going to happen."
"That's not going to happen," he gritted out. "So, what would make you happy?"
She closed her mouth and looked at the space between them, finally considering his question seriously. "I need to think about it," she eventually said.
Bucky nodded and even smiled a little, his large grey eyes crinkling kindly, tired. His hands were now at the garter belt, playing with the suspenders, and he started to undo them one by one, peeling them carefully away from the edge of the stockings. There was a heat back in his eyes. His big rough hand, even the metal fingers, were deft with the little clasps, and it can't have been just from watching her put them on and off so many times.
"You're surprisingly good at that," she remarked in an icy tone as he rolled one stocking down.
"Am I?" he smirked.
"Perhaps not so surprising," she said, right before she kicked him in the chest. He fell back down more out of shock than anything, and then dared to laugh.
"Dollface, what did I do?" he asked from his sprawl.
"I can undress myself," she muttered, walking around him toward the living room. Before she was through the doorway, he had his arms around her waist and pulled her back in. "This isn't helping me do that thinking we just talked about," she growled as she clawed at his arms.
Bucky walked them backwards to his bed, rubbing his face into her hair and moaning at the scent. "Sweetheart… I can't believe you right now," he smiled. "You're not jealous, are you?"
"Over a mouth breathing mountain of manure like you? Never."
"Ouch," he chuckled. "You know the women you're jealous of are all dead, right?"
"Oh, is that so?" she giggled bitterly, and half-way turned around in his arms just to catch a glimpse of his face as she said "So I suppose it doesn't matter what Hamelin and I did before you found us."
His grin turned to a grimace and instantly he raised a hand to hold her chin. "Nothing happened between the two of you," he said with all amusement gone.
"Yes. But it's worth saying it to see how your face fell," she smirked. "And he's dead anyway, so it doesn't matter, right?"
He heaved a breath and shook his head. "That isn't fair, it's… That's different."
She tilted her head back, out of his grip, and smiled sadly. "You're right about that."
His hold was loose enough now that she stepped out of it. She sat back down on the bed and removed the other stocking while Bucky looked at her, still a little angry. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, hands on his hips, looking like he could fill half the room with his breadth and outrage.
What wasn't fair? That he'd won her? Would she really prefer that slimy, slippery snake to him? Weaker, smaller, unremarkable, who didn't know her, who could never give her half of what he could, whose mission it was to basically throw her away, who could never protect her or make her happy. A middling agent compared to him, Martin had been no match for Bucky, and Hamelin was no match for The Fist of Hydra, the Winter Soldier — was that it? Was that what she wanted? Was he just too soft? Was that why she preferred the metal arm?
And what did she mean, then, by 'different'? Bucky knew what he meant: his past girls were never a threat to her, they were long gone and he wasn't pining after any of them, so what was she worried about? Meanwhile, Hamelin — or rather, Martin — not only had the chance to take her away but was actually supposed to, and relatively recently too. Just because he was dead, buried, and decraniated, didn't make it any better.
"I meant exactly what you meant," she said evenly, then turned her dour face up to him and sighed. "I want get cleaned up and go to bed."
Her bare feet were braced on the floor, her hands braced on the edge of the bed, and she sat right in front of him in her lacy red slip, one strap off the shoulder, and… asked to go to bed with him. His rational mind said 'no, they weren't done talking', but his body said:
"Yeah, er… sure, g-go right ahead, honey."
Of course, he didn't know that she'd cheat.
Turning in bed sometime in the night, Bucky expected to wrap his arm around her but instead felt nothing, his hand falling as if through space. Feeling around, the bed was empty and cold. He raised himself up slightly on his arms to look around — her own bed, in front of him, was empty. Looking toward the door, there was no light on in the living room. He looked over his shoulder and finally spotted her: she was sitting by the windowsill, inside of its little alcove, crouched and on her back. Her feet were on the wall of it, her knees cuddled to her chest as she rested her forehead against the window, and looked out at the sky.
As soon as she heard him shift around in bed, she winced and tensed up. Oh no, here it comes. Turning her head and meeting his eyes, she reflexively straightened, sitting a bit higher. He's going to come over, she thought to herself. But he just turned and stretched toward the bed table, grabbing the watch to see the time. It must've been around 4 AM.
"You ok?" he asked through the gruff of sleep as he leaned forward on one elbow.
"Yes," she said, and cringed at the lameness of her own reply.
She'd been enjoying her time alone, at least a little bit. She just wanted to sit by the window and look at constellations again, even if these ones were completely different. But now he was awake and he'd caught her and he was definitely going to come and ask some stupid questions… But he just sighed and stayed mercifully where he was. Even through the dark and distance, Bucky saw the way she looked at him: legs tight, feet bent at the ankles and pointing toward the window, her face half-turned away while she watched him through the corner of her eyes. One didn't need to be a trained assassin to understand. So against his every instinct, he laid back down and turned around so that at least he couldn't see her — nor she him — and pretended to go back to sleep.
She was as surprised as she was grateful to be left in peace, but there was nothing for it now. He'd woken up, he'd seen her, and she couldn't focus anymore on anything other than the chance — the risk — that he could come over any minute now and… And what? Turning back toward the window, she tried to enjoy the view again, but she just kept feeling his presence from across the room, wondering now what he thought, what he felt — it was always like this, this always came with being seen. Everyone just had to have some opinion, and she couldn't help but care, and worry.
This is going to be the rest of my life, she bitterly thought. All her options of freedom, of going where she wanted, of being alone for days, of not having to speak to anyone for long blissful weeks, gone. It's always going to be like this.
Don't you like him even a little bit though?
That's not the point.
And he likes you…
That's not true.
She turned to look at him on the bed, his breaths deep and body still, all that hot skin above the covers and lean strong shapes beneath. His hair was a bit ruffled and just beneath the pillow she could see the metal arm curled up, hugging it in sleep. He was so tactile, so instinctively intimate, even after everything he'd been through — perhaps because of it. Bucky deserved to have someone nice… She thought over what he said earlier, 'what made her happy'. She couldn't remember many recent occasions of that, not significant ones at least: sure, a successful report was alright, the heartfelt thanks from a colleague was nice, and finding a favourite cake at a shop, or a set of bonbons in beautiful packaging, or seeing a kitty, or getting to pet one.
But those were just little pleasant moments that went away, they weren't the foundation for anything. And none of them involved any real intimacy — if anything all events of intimacy, from something as distant as just being at a party to being forced to hug someone, all of them left her feeling stressed, and inadequate, and sad, and took hours to recover from. She explored in her mind all the options of giving Bucky what he wanted, his payment for keeping her safe from SHIELD, but she couldn't imagine putting herself through any of it. She couldn't even fake it, the very thought got stuck in her mind. He wouldn't let her get away, he'd made that abundantly clear, and she couldn't bide her time with fake affection until he inevitably got bored of her. All it left her with were awful options: keep being miserable, or make him angry enough to throw her away and end up in prison. Or… ?
How else, how else to survive having to be his wife and give him what he wants when I hate it, I hate him… I don't hate him.
She sunk lower in the window's alcove and loosely hugged herself. The wedding ring nearly touched the glass, reflecting faintly back, and looking at it, she got lost in thoughts of that morning, when he'd made her his. How he looked at her, and how he touched her and held her and talked to her and kissed her, but mostly how he — She couldn't hold the memories for long without having to cover her face completely with both hands, then had to open her eyes and look between her fingers at the wall to distract herself, to stop herself remembering. And it wasn't just the shame of being seen and felt by a man, wasn't just about the utter meanness of him to do it when she told him 'no', wasn't even about losing that part of herself because she'd thought about it, too, with him…
An idea came, and her whole body shivered.
What if he really does like you?
There's no chance of that.
But then, with the cold ring brushing her face, right in front of her, inescapable, she thought of another way through this. She took a vow, after all, and he really was her husband. If she could do it as a job, as an obligation like any other, as a duty… Would it make her happy, to perform a duty? To fulfil of a noble vow, to sublimate it somehow for —
it isn't going to work it isn't going to work it isn't going to work
— for however long it lasted.
She sighed and looked once more at the back of him and, without thinking anymore, let her body raise her up, take her back to bed, and lay her slowly down. The mattress didn't even move as she inched her way to his side. Her forehead barely touched his back, and that was all he was waiting for as instantly he turned and wrapped his arm around her. His leg curled around hers, lips at her forehead for one long kiss, and after he was done, he rested his chin over her head and settled her comfily against his chest with one deep, contented sigh.
She woke up to bright lights and an empty bed. Cracking her eyes open, Bucky was nowhere in sight, and sunshine was pouring through the window. She checked the phone and saw it was 10:30 AM, and just then she heard noise coming from the living room.
"You up yet, babe?" he asked in a light tone as he wheeled something inside.
"What's that?" she rasped.
He brought it to the side of the bed and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Thought we might have breakfast in bed today."
Bucky had let her sleep in and called for room service again. He was clean and shaved and still in a bathrobe, with probably little underneath. And while she didn't exactly like how yesterday's breakfast ended, it was tempting to stay in bed.
"Can I maybe shower first?" she asked, then added "I'll be quick," realising he'd probably waited for her before eating.
"Sure thing, doll," he grinned.
As it turned out, Bucky had a reason for keeping her in bed. After they cleared out the coffee cups and the plates and boring newspapers, he cupped her neck and leaned it back and fell upon her with kisses, inching her own robe away and taking his completely off.
"Left me hungry for you after yesterday, darling," he whispered into her skin. "Wanted to wait a bit more, but…" Kiss after kiss, he worked his way lower as he held her ribcage still.
"Thought you'd had your fill…"
He raised his head enough to grin at her. "I'm just getting started."
"Bucky…" she whined when his hands, fingers spread and teasing, passed over her chest, his lips at her stomach. She had to call his name again to get his attention.
"What is it, doll?" he huskily asked with his mouth just above the surface of her skin.
"I'm still achy."
"Oh…" His hands went back down to caress her sides, up and down in steady motions, as he looked into her eyes and tried to calm his breathing. "It's ok…" he gently said and, as his metal hand settled a bit higher and the thumb moved left and right to tease the tip of her, he offered "Maybe we can try something else, if you want."
She only had herself to blame, and her newly formed and probably doomed dedication to the idea of duty. Two minutes later she was straddling him, one leg bent the other stretched beside him, her chest slightly above his, hands holding on to him by his neck while his teeth nipped at her shoulder. Her still-damp hair stuck to her back, but her front was burning from him. He wasn't doing anything to her, he just wanted to have her there for him to feel on top of his chest and stomach while he worked himself beneath her. His left arm was steady at her back, just in case she slipped lower than she wanted to.
"That's it, sweetheart," he murmured. "Just let yourself lay down on me…" His right arm and shoulder flexed with the movement, and slowly it moved her too, and as she allowed herself to lay a bit more firmly, like he said, the whole surface of his skin was teased. "Bit higher," he moaned, stretching his neck to reach hers with his lips. "Let me kiss you there…"
She pulled herself up the distance and leaned her head back, allowing him to place a suckling kiss over her throat. His teeth just barely grazed it, and she gasped. He felt her tense as if to pull away, and although she didn't move, he whined into her skin in protest.
"It's ok, it's ok," he tried to placate her, to place a few more kisses up and down her neck. "Don't be scared… Don't be scared of me."
She bowed her head and let it sink into the pillow, trying not to hear the sleek wet sounds behind, nor think of what the jerking motions of his arm meant. Each kiss he placed on her came as a surprise, each one made her jump a little, and each of his moans made her wonder if something was wrong, if she was a burden, if she made things worse, but they were only followed by more kisses.
Bucky raised his head from her and turned to whisper in her ear, pleading and hungry, "I need more." She almost turned her head, her cheek brushing his. "Talk to me, sweetheart…" He must've felt her choke, and though his arm didn't stop its rhythmic up and down, he added a more gentle "Can you?"
"I'll try…" she whispered back, still against his cheek and unable to look at anything. Maybe speaking would distract her. "I… I do want you to feel good," and she did mean it, she did want to help him, especially when he was being so gentle, so cautious with her, and of all the ways to be a wife this should be the easiest, right?
"Oh yeah, you do?" he asked with a smirk, and it wasn't necessarily just teasing because the prospect that she wanted him to feel nice, that she might even want to be the reason for it, was both exciting and rather new. And to hear it from her, who was still fairly innocent and untried by any other man, meant there would be a little less artifice there, a little more sincerity.
She raised her head to look at him and bit her lip as she looked into his eyes, nodding mutely at first, before she softly spoke "I do, I want to give you what you want. You're so good, sweetheart, you've been so good to me…"
He inhaled sharply, and though she was so quiet he might not have heard her if he was just a bit further, her words struck deep and stayed there. On its own, his grip tightened on his manhood, and he cradled her closer with the metal arm, feeling her soft and damp across his stomach.
"Is this what you wanted, darling?" she asked as she ran her fingers in feather touches down his neck, the inside of his arm, "You like it when I talk to you?", then up again and down his flexing chest, "you like it when I touch you?" stopping to flick and tease him there and make him moan almost in pain. Then she sunk her nails in and dragged down, breathing through her teeth to ask "Is this what you like?" and through his rambled pleas of —
"Yes yes y…"
— she asked in a cold low voice "You like me?" Why did you ask that?
"Yes, I… f— I love you." Oh no.
She tore her gaze away from his flushed and open face, away from those soft grey eyes that looked pleadingly at her, to look down between them, between their two chests and the parting of her legs, to where his fist was gripping.
"Darling," she cooed in a sudden teasing tone, so low and close and wet he could hear her tongue brush against her lower lip. "Oh just look at that…" With a purr, she turned her attention back to him and tilted her face as if for a kiss but instead only said, with a little pout, "it's no wonder you hurt me."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he panted and rambled heartfelt apologies, but lower down his arm moved faster, gripped harder, in a lovely simulation of how punishingly tight she'd been, what a perfect fight he'd had with her little body, and how satisfying it was to win. He'd never felt like more of a man than when he conquered her. "I didn't mean to hurt you, doll, I swear I never did…"
"Shhh it's alright," she whispered, cupping his face and brushing her fingers over his cheeks, the circles under his eyes, then smoothing out his eyebrows as she looked lovingly across his whole contrite face.
"I just couldn't… I couldn't help it, you —"
"No, don't say that…"
"You're so — oh s— so pretty, sweetheart, I wanted you, I want you, I couldn't help it —"
"Don't talk like that, Bucky," she begged, holding his face still in her hands as she let herself lay lower on him, her legs spreading just slightly, chest pressed against his, her lips almost to his own. He searched her face, mouth parting just in gasps and moans while he teased the tip of himself with his hand, waiting for her to find the words. "If…" she started with a sigh, and threading her fingers through his hair she looked into his eyes for the courage to admit, "Don't say you can't help it, it kills me, it kills me to think about…" And though he might not have understood, she could see in his face a sympathy with the pain he caught a glimpse of. "Be gentle with me or hurt me or do whatever you want to me, but I want you to mean it, alright? Want whatever it is, with me, just with me…"
"Just with you, doll," he promised, metal hand moving up her back to rest at the nape of her neck and hold her there. "My best girl, my own, my only…"
"Tell me you're mine." Her caressing fingers turned into fists in his hair and pulled his head back.
The possessiveness and pain only served to bring him closer, and through teeth gritted in unexpected pleasure, before her demand was even fully through her lips, Bucky answered "Yes yours, only yours, I swear it."
Her grip loosened in his hair and she rewarded him with a kiss, giving him her lips to soften his sighs against and bite and sip tenderness from, while her hands went down to frame his chest, bracing against his hot broad ribcage that arched with frantic breathing.
"I'm so close, sweetheart…" Bucky moaned, and looked with yearning down at her before he asked "Come closer, higher, let me…"
It was more difficult for her to find the courage for it, but remembering her earlier intentions, she moved up his body just the distance needed for his mouth to reach her chest. She braced her hands against the headboard as she held herself above him, her frustrated womanhood fevering away at the base of his ribs while she gave him more flesh to kiss. And all along her back, the metal arm held her — from moving lower, from moving away, from being forgotten — and it didn't even feel cold anymore. Every now and then it would fall all the way down to her thigh and pull her tighter against him, then go back up and caress the hair away from her neck.
"So close…" Bucky rasped, "so close you for, doll."
Her hand went down to grip his upper arm, feeling the flexing and tension and the hard push and pull, and her mouth, without permission, opened to breathlessly ask:
"You feel that?" She looked pointedly down to him, rubbing herself just slightly against him as her other hand relaxed around the bedframe enough so she could lay against him. "You hear it?"
Bucky looked into her eyes, dazed and blinded with pleasure, but he instantly knew what she meant. "It's beating so fast," he whispered, lips pressing kisses right at the centre of her chest to feel the frenzied flutters. His flesh hand moved in ever wetter thrusts while the metal wrapped itself around her, and holding her chest like a cherished box —
"It's beating just for you."
— he pulled her down and kissed her little heart through her ribcage.
She released a sigh and rested her head on top of his, nails sinking into the hard muscles of his arm, though it did little to ground her because all around her, she felt him. Her skin was teased to scorching, the heavy warm scent of him reached deep inside, whenever she opened her eyes she saw either his ruffled hair or his shoulder or arm or his chest or his eyes, and through it all, that constant backdrop of skin against skin, seeping.
His lips left her chest with a sudden urgency. "Doll, please, I need to…"
"Almost there?" she softly asked, looking in his eyes.
"Need to be inside you," he whispered, gaze flickering down to her parted lips. "Please, doll, tell me I can…"
"Just a bit," he husked. "Don't let it go to waste, now…"
"Still hurts", the girl whined, but looked at him as hungrily as he was.
"I'll give you just a little bit, sweetheart, come on… Try for me."
"Alright…" she relented, and allowed him to move her slightly lower.
"Oh, doll…" he moaned when his fingers brushed against her. "So swollen…" She hadn't just been teasing him, she really was still hurting, and he was now even gentler than she could imagine as he moved the tip over, and around, and up and down that dripping heat. "There you go, easy, thaaat's it," Bucky whispered as he eased her down, keeping his eyes on her face for any hint of pain. "Isn't that ok?"
"Yes…" she gasped, looking as ravished as he felt while she bit her lip and blushed.
"Now hold still, honey. So close so close… There it is, there we go, ah f—"
He barely slipped himself in her. Knowing he couldn't go any further destroyed him, but he stopped. "Good?"
She bit her lips closed and moaned, but kept looking at him. His flesh hand held him still, while the metal one pet her back to calm her. It didn't take him much, only a few more brushes of his fist along his length, and the contrast of the cold of the room with the heat of her, and within seconds he could barely keep his eyes open as he felt himself empty up into her. He could tell she noticed exactly when it happened too, her eyes widening and that blush heating up her lips and neck. But she didn't move away, she let her body be used.
Bucky swallowed his moans and looked at her the whole time, from the first rush to the slow drip of what was left… When he sensed it was done, he took himself out just as carefully and, with his arms around her, moved the girl back down on the bed. She barely touched the mattress when his lips were on her again, kissing her forehead gratefully and full of love.
They rested in bed for a while before getting cleaned up. He made sure she was ok, and she slowly felt her breath come back. Bucky arranged them in such a way that her head could rest against his flesh arm, while the metal one caressed her forehead and hips and any place that felt too warm and needed cooling. He tried not to think about the things she'd said, and by the far off look in her eyes, she was trying not to think about them either. If he started to hope now… He'd hoped before, and it never ended well. But there was something there, something just for him. If she could be so jealous and possessive and as murderous as he, in her own little way, at the thought of other women… It made Bucky's heart soar in such a way that any sexual pleasure paled by comparison. At some point, she remembered he was there and staring at her. She looked up at him through her lashes, but couldn't hold his gaze for long. Even looking back down wasn't enough, so she buried her face in the pillows.
"You alright?" he softly asked, brushing her hair away. She mumbled and nodded a bit. "Want some water?" Her face finally came back up, but she didn't seem too sure, and couldn't look at him again either. "I'll get you some."
Bucky got off the bed with almost a spring in his step and went to look through the minifridge. He poured some cold water in two glasses and went back to bed, propping her up a bit, and she downed the whole thing in one breath. The girl laid slowly back down while Bucky drank his own, but she didn't seem so pained this time; just careful… Once he was back with her, arms all around her again, he found he couldn't hold it in any longer.
"You were perfect," he told her. Immediately, she buried her face back down. "You still are."
Taglist: @golden-ghost @themaskismyface @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @ximaginx @ahahafudge @vikingqueen28 @ihavemanyhusbandfandoms @alexmercer-reginaldpeters @lianadare18 @frietiemeloen @ovoftbieber @gloomybrieyxb @learisa @offcast-plus1 @humongouswinnerduckmuffin @sailorsammyy @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @mandybug39 @fiositivity @caitdjarin @millennial-teenybopper @ficklemcselfish @panickingqueer @chipilerendi @caramelcandescence @general-bunny @ssa-steverogers @witches-of-discovery-a @bluemoon-icecream @sugarplum1996 @lo-manburg @priscilastyles @sugarpunch-princess
85 notes · View notes
Bucky Barnes (Dark One Shots)
This is my Bucky’s Masterlist. For the whole masterlist please check this out. <3
Every work has its own warnings. Only +18, minors are not welcome.
Dance Again, Darling
Summary: reader is in the wrong place at the wrong time, trying to send some positive vibes.
Escape is not an option
Summary: the reader tries desperately to escape Bucky Barnes. (based on a request)
Debts (Dark! Mafia! Bucky Barnes)
Summary: father’s reader has debts of game with a dangerous boss. You try to save your family, but Bucky has other plans.
Summary: Bucky has a bad dream and reader decides to take care of him.
Bad girl (Dark! Natasha Romanoff x reader x Dark! Bucky Barnes)
Summary: you give a try for one last run for your life. Things don’t really go as planned.
Just Love Me
Summary: reader tries to tell Bucky he's just not the boy she loves. And that hurts, a lot... for both. (request)
26 notes · View notes
Bad girl. (Dark! Natasha Romanoff x reader x Dark! Bucky Barnes)
╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗
Hey there! This is kinda a one shot of Dark! Natasha Romanoff x reader x Dark! Bucky Barnes. Please, tell me what you think about this and if you would like a part 2! Reblogs, comments and support are always welcome. Feedbacks always make my day. Enjoy!
Summary: you give a try for one last run for your life. Things don’t really go as planned.
Warnings: mommy kink, age gap, dark themes, a lot of angst, violence (slight but still), implied past torture and noncon, implied future noncon, fighting. Please, only +18, if you're a minor DO NOT read. If you do not feel safe with these dark themes, please do not read.
╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝
A long time. So much time had you spent trying to make Natasha Romanoff believe that somehow you were happy with her, just waiting to get out.
It was likely that you gave your mom the impression that you were now so happy and carefree with her, in that luxurious apartment reserved just for the two of you overlooking the greenery and a forest not far away. It was to relax you, to encourage you, she said.
So one day you could finally walk hand in hand with her. Natasha had said it with such emotion it almost made you feel bad, she seemed so happy. Then of course, you also remembered why she never let you out after that desperate escape attempt.
You had miserably caught the attention of a poor old man, who immediately offered you help even if confused. Natasha arrived shortly after and she explained how you suffered from various ailments, how you were so desperate. No, you just wanted to get away, but your only hope vanished into thin air in the knowledge that someone else would take care of that problem. That she would take care of you.
You would vomit just at the thought of what she did to you next: she tied you up entirely with tight ropes that made you bruises and scratches, and he continued to torture you for hours and hours, sexually. She had humiliated and denigrated you, forced you to play with her and her games. Even if Natasha thought that by now the struggle had died down in you, in reality no, it was not like that at all: your mind was still there, and even if shattered it still harbored that hope. Still the strength to fight it. And you would have fought it.
So when she made a small mistake due to all the pressure they put on her during the missions - Natasha, she was so tired of being away from you for so long and the missions without your little "help" became more complex for the redhead-, you took advantage of it without thinking twice.
Natasha had stopped playing with you for weeks now and making you believe she was a fool with absolutely stupid mistakes. But you fell for it, and other punishments followed. The damn woman knew very well what points to hit, how to knock you down.
But you had built an armor and that was your only defense.
You smiled and walked without thinking twice to the window not blocked by Natasha in the bathroom: she had left in a hurry, she had probably forgotten. It took just one step outside and you were free. Sure, one more jump down the soft blades of grass, but you were strong, you thought you could do it. You had to do it.
And so, with a beautiful smile adorning your tired face and the bags under your eyes showing your unstoppable fatigue, you finally came down. Your knees ached, but luckily there wasn't any great pain to endure, other than that caused by all the abuse Natasha suffered. It was abuse, not love.
You always told yourself this while she tried to bribe you with her words. That smile, that splendid smile of hope you had, soon disappeared when you heard a signal coming from inside the house. She had a very simple system: if it was opened from the outside through Natasha herself or the password that she usually used (and that you did not know), then the system would not activate. However, if the windows or doors were forced from the inside and subsequently unlocked for any reason, the alarm would go off. Since the window was not forced but left open, you did not understand the connection at all.
Then, you remembered the mistake you made.
┈┈┈┈ □ ┈┈┈┈
"Honey, I don't like you trying to run away when we're together. Mom doesn't like this behavior." she told you sternly as she forced you to keep drinking the heated milk. Her arms were folded and she had that stern but still strangely sweet look. You didn't know what happened to her, as Natasha was rarely sweet when she was mad at you. But you certainly didn't want to miss that little chance to not get punished.
"I'm sorry... I was afraid of a new... punishment." you hesitantly admitted, and you knew well that there was more than a grain of truth to what you were saying. Her raised eyebrow assured you to add a "mom" to the repeated excuse me, at which she smiled with satisfaction.
You felt her blood boil when you saw her expression so satisfied, probably at the thought of how she transformed you into her sweet and perfect doll of hers. About her The her adorable and beautiful sweetness of her, she said. She also said she remembered how attractive you were and so sweet to her, bringing her some cappuccinos when she was down on some mission. Natasha had clearly mistaken those gestures for something more, as after several unwanted attentions from her her patience ran out and she directly decided to kidnap you. To take you away from everything and everyone you knew.
"I won't do it again, mom." you said with more conviction, but not too much to make her suspicious. You were playing a dangerous game.
She smiled softly at you, bowing to your level given the specially lowest stool made for a little girl, then kissed you tenderly on the forehead. "Oh love, I know. I'll get some updates done and improve this little paradise for the three of us, so you can't try to escape from me anymore. ‘Cause you can't escape from me, remember sweetheart?" you sensed her low growl from her throat towards the last question, and then you smiled meekly and widened her eyes slightly. You also heard the three in the whole sentence, but it was surely a mistake. Your mind was completely off that day, you barely knew how to stand up and play nice. That must have been a mistake.
You saw that flash in her eyes that allowed you to save yourself or at least not make her too hard on you. "Yes mom, I'll stay here with you forever."
Oh, how Natasha loved you.
┈┈┈┈ □ ┈┈┈┈
"(Y / n)!"
You heard your name being screamed out loud, and by now you knew it was too late. You didn't know why she came back early, but you did know one thing: she had gone to hell. Natasha's trust had cost you so much time, months, sacrifices. Your body and mind had given up, you got tired of pretending. You would have gone down, but by now you were there, savoring the clean air and the grass. And she, you were pretty sure she was so mad she could even beat you up for hours. So, we might as well try a run.
Without further ado, you started running, only to hear the echo of her furious screams from her. You knew that underneath those screams was pure despair, and a sense of guilt lurked inside you. But again, the fault was hers: she had abused you. You owed her nothing but the pain to repay. So why did you feel a pang in her heart?
Whatever it was, guilt or not, quickly disappeared when you briefly turned your gaze to the window you fled from, only to meet her gaze. It was dark, completely. You knew you had to run even faster, beyond your limits. The mental ones were now gone.
Your lungs burned from lack of oxygen and your legs begged for mercy. You didn't even know where the fuck you were going, where you were. "Please!" you exclaimed aloud, looking for a person, a thing, any fucking thing.
You saw nothing but green and a flash of gray. Grey? No, it was all green. The meadow, the woods you were now reaching, but no sign of Natasha. Your brain and your instincts immediately pointed out something deeply wrong, but you didn't have time to think. You had to run.
And that was your umpteenth mistake. Only when you felt a strong grip on your life did you realize two things: your hope that now shattered before your eyes, and the fact that that arm was too inhuman and too big to be Natasha's.
Without delay you looked behind you, only to see a flash of blue eyes. They were blue. But it wasn't Natasha.
That was the Winter Soldier. It only took him a second to freeze you in his grip, and his long hair did nothing but go over your face now covered in sweat from running. Your legs were shattered and you felt that you were beyond your limits, but you refused to stay with him.
You were frightened by that man just looking at him from a distance. Even when you worked in the complex, even when you were distributing all the drinks, when his turn came you were hesitant and almost struggled to hide the violent shivers that assailed you. But now, as bitchy as you might have been - or maybe too scared - in the past, he was your only hope. You opened your mouth for miserable help, one that would finally be heard, but he preceded you.
"I still don't believe you took her."
Your blood froze to the point where your own struggle ceased. You looked at him with resounding shock, and he couldn't help but show you an arrogant smile.
"Hi doll. Remember me?" he mocked you, but he knew well you remembered it. Oh, he could feel every single flicker under that damned white shirt that was too tight and that skirt too short for his taste, but still extraordinarily sexy. Bucky wasn't the type to get women clouding his head, but you weren't just that, it was another matter. You were such a small, frail and insignificant thing: he could crush you and reduce you to pulp. It only took one look with the pissed woman who now came to you two.
He looked at you steaming as her fists were still clenched against her hips. Oh, how you would have paid dearly for it.
"Just in time." she murmured to the soldier who still held you. The struggles were now over, and only your desperation and the tears that lurked in your eyes remained.
"What are you doing...?" you had the courage to murmur in an almost disjointed way, looking at her with great attention. She couldn't even build that sadistic, ironic smile she usually gave you before your punishments. Your stomach twisted as your instinct screamed at you that something was deeply wrong, and what was worse, you couldn't help it.
"Bucky here, he had the same idea as I did when I saw you. We soon discovered so many things in common, and I thought that if I could be mom... then he could be dad. And it often happens that in families a mom is struggling to discipline a stupid ungrateful brat, just like you. " she growled with such ferocity it made you shiver and almost push yourself defensively into Bucky's arms, but you knew better. You knew from his dark look at him that he had something in store for you.
You swallowed noisily, your throat now dry and scratched from all your efforts. "Natasha, please..." you pleaded one last time, only to get a slap in the face. You remained with your face covered by your own messy hair, only to look back at her now furious expression at her. She had that look, the same look as when you said you would never love her. This time you weren't really sure you'd get out of it alive.
"I'm your mom, you stupid bitch. But you don't listen to me, do you? So, I suppose you'll listen to your new dad." at that point she offered you a bitter smile, and your useless pleas were of no avail. Bucky began to drag you without too many pretensions towards the apartment that you would have shared by now in three, and Natasha was looking at you from further and further away.
"Please, I'll be good! I swear, I'll never run away again, I'll be your good girl, please Nat!" you screamed desperately as you tried to escape the super soldier's grasp, and you nearly succeeded. You saw Natasha keep staring steadily, almost without blinking, as Bucky snorted and pulled you up again with a firm grip on her hair. You no longer had the strength to scream, your own voice was leaving you.
"It's useless baby, you pissed Mommy. And now..." Bucky came dangerously close to your face, causing his own warm breath to fall on your face as you winced visibly with tears streaming down your cheeks. "And now, you will finally get the punishment you deserve for disobeying her... and for always denying staying a fucking second longer with me." he growled fiercely, just as he regained his grip on your waist and dragged you to the unlocked front door.
53 notes · View notes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader
Summary: it's all about the perfect lure
Warnings: DARKish, kidnapping, NSFW +18 ONLY, there's a twist you won't expect
A/N: beta'd by the sweet @mariekoukie6661! this is the first time I've ventured into the dark... I hope you like it ;) dividers by @firefly-graphics
Main Masterlist • Marvel Masterlist
Psychology is interesting, and studying the psyche of the infamous serial killers in history even more so.
It's all about how they choose their modus operandi to be something special, something unique to themselves and have a signature of their own, marking a kill as theirs and theirs only.
But it's not just the kill, is it? It's also the way they prey, how they select the victim after so much research and then pounce when the time is right.
That's what intrigues you, the luring in.
You're currently reading a book about Ted Bundy in Starbucks, cozied up in a booth beside a window that covers half the wall as the sound of rain against the glass deafens the hustle and bustle of the few others who are taking refuge against the torrents inside the coffee shop.
There's a thunder, which makes you look out to see the lightning which follows - one, two, three… fifteen seconds later, which, when divided by five, makes it approximately 3 miles away.
Just before you can divert your attention back to the book, you see a man rushing from the Starbucks door, squatting next to your car across the street which you had parked in such a way that you could see it while inside, your paranoid mind not allowing otherwise.
It seems like his shoe laces came off right in the middle of the street. Poor guy.
He's wearing a blue hoodie over his head, likely to protect him from the rain which makes you unable to see his face, but the way his physique is clearly outlined due to his clothes being wet, there is no doubt that he's muscular and fit.
And you hate that you didn't notice him while he was in the same room.
Then, the man stands up and you see how tall he is against your car and you clench your thighs, imagining how it would feel to be manhandled by him, how he would look under you as you grind on him.
A few minutes later, he turns around, and for a moment it feels like he's looking right at you and then runs away, perhaps in search of shelter since he didn't even have an umbrella with him.
You sigh, watching him retreat until he isn't visible anymore, the rain making it hard to see anything too far. So you move your attention back to your book.
The next time you see the man is just an hour later at the grocery store.
Your eyes fall on him just in time to see him shudder as he passes under a vent. He's still wearing that hoodie due to which it's easy to recognize him. Though it has dried considerably and stays snugly around him, you can imagine that it's still cold.
Do you feel bad for him? Of course.
Can you do anything about it without sounding weird? No.
What would you even say? That I saw you getting wet earlier and I'm sorry but I'm pretty sure you're gonna get sick? No thanks, that would just lead to awkwardness.
You stumble across the man just as you're about to walk to the next aisle, bumping into him as everything in your basket falls down.
"Sorry," You apologize as you bend down to pick everything up and he mimics your action, helping you. You take this chance to observe him from your peripheral vision, biting your lip as you take in his cerulean blue eyes and his face which looks like it was carved by the gods with patience.
When he hands you the last object - a bar of your favorite chocolate, you give him a small smile. "Thank you."
"No problem," He replies with a soft smile of his own, the ends of his eyes crinkling and somehow making him look even more handsome. "I'm Bucky."
"Y/N," You say, blushing. You feel warm under his gaze as you say goodbye and slip into the next aisle to buy the rest of the items on your list.
By the time you're lunging your basket on the counter for check out, you're cursing yourself for undermining the amount of things you had to buy and not taking a trolley instead.
Even the cashier gives you a pitiful look as you attempt to lift the overfilled large-size bag she had gracefully put your stuff in, but groans as you struggle. You contemplate bringing your car right in front of the exit when a voice behind you says -
"Need a hand, doll?"
You glance back to see it's Bucky again, offering his help. Even if you wanted to, there's no way you can do this yourself so you accept it.
You're thanking him once again for the second time today, and then you slip into your car after he has stashed the bag in the trunk.
"Need a ride?" You ask. He has helped you twice and the not-so-subtle shivers he has tried to hide from you have not gone unnoticed. The least you can offer to pay him back is with the warmth from the heater in your car.
He's quick to refuse but you insist and now you're travelling to the nearest bus stop five minutes away from where he says he'll definitely get a bus directly to his house.
You are driving on a straight road. The rain has stopped, the clouds are nowhere to be seen and Bucky is peering out of the window and you make sure that he's wearing the seat belt with a quick glance.
You recall how Ted Bundy was described to be an appealing man, asking his victims for help or offering them his own before he did the deeds.
Smart man, you think. Lowering the victims defences by earning their trust.
There's a certain likeness to the serial killer as you look at Bucky again, who catches your eye this time and smiles at you, a doll in his own right, just like the nickname he called you.
You wonder if the charm is true and a part of his personality or is it just a ruse like Bundy?
Guess you'll have to find out.
"Hey, do you mind getting my glasses from the glove compartment?"
Bucky nods, innocently searching for the glasses you know aren't there, you quickly reach to the back seat to retrieve a baseball bat and swing it at the back of the head just like you had practiced many times, beaming as he becomes unconscious.
Bucky wakes up in a dark room, his eyes taking a few minutes to adjust to the lack of light.
He can see that there's only a bed in what seems like a basement now that he can see clearer, two doors present, one which has stairs to go up to.
Trying to move, he realizes that a rope binds his arms behind him to the headboard and his legs are tied together too, stopping any movements.
There's a sound of footsteps that approach the door that leads down to the basement from which you appear, smirking sinisterly as your expressions are nothing like the sweet woman he had come across earlier that day… or was it yesterday?
How long has he been here?
Bucky's breath quickens as you delicately sit down on the other end of the bed, perching on the edge before you slowly slide closer and closer to him. "You should be happy! You're the first one in my collection."
It's then when he notices the huge knife in your hand, and he screams at you, "Let me go!"
But there's a gag between his lips and all that comes out is a loud yell. You tut, shaking your head disappointedly at him.
"Made the basement soundproof a long time ago, Bucky. There's no one who can hear you."
You straddle him, fingers dancing on his thankfully still- clothed chest as you lean closer as if studying every detail of his face. Bucky calms his breathing, not wanting to show his fear.
Seemingly satisfied, you sit back. "You're perfect, you know? I'm damn lucky to have found you." You say before pecking his cheek. "Had been visiting your favorite Starbucks for days now."
You cradle his face in your hands, looking directly in his eyes. "Had to do everything right to get you here."
The coldness in your eyes cuts through him sharper than the chill he had while wearing clothes that were wet from the rain.
"You're my Ted Bundy, Bucky. Now all we gotta do is find the perfect Jack The Ripper." You laugh while combing through his short hair, though your touch feels vile, it's what you say next that makes his blood run cold, "I feel like your friend Steve fits the bill perfectly, what do you think?"
I’d love to hear what you think of it Xx
Wanna read more of my works? Check out the masterlist linked at the top!
If you wanna be tagged every time I post, click here!
43 notes · View notes
In this Life and the Next - Chapter 3
The Veil of Decency
Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Desi!Muslim!Reader; Steve Rogers x Desi!Muslim!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Desi!Muslim!Reader; Foursome
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Elements; Dubious Consent; Soft!Dark!Steve; Soft!Dark!Bucky; Soft!Dark!Zemo; Stalking; Obsessive/Manipulative Lovers; Political/Mafia Elements; Blackmail/Coercion; Mentions of Hunting; Character Death; References to Reincarnation; Slow Burn; Possible Dead Dove: Would Not Eat; Murder; Obsession; Please Read At Your Discretion
Chapter Warnings: Stalking; Blood Mention; References to Hunting; References to Assault; Fear, Choking, The Dove is Probably Dead: Would Not Eat
Chapter Summary: They see you, you show them, and you will know them.
Masterlist; Chapter 1; Chapter 2
Notes: Finally, I got this chapter to work! I’m sorry this one took so so freaking long, but thank you for being patient with me. Updates to this fic may be slow if only because the flow is difficult to hit but I’ll keep trying. It’s my baby, I gotta.
I will be restructuring my outline for this fic as well so if you see changes to the Masterlist and the tags, that’s why.
Further thanks to @brandycranby who continues to tolerate me when I am in the throes of panic trying to make a chapter work and helps me work through the feelings.
Thank you for being here with me and as always, feedback is welcome.
All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.
An incomplete meeting is a promise to meet again.
Memories rise and fold into themselves, things you thought you dreamed bubbling into your subconscious as reality, things you thought you remembered falling away. You float, existing in the void of time and space, a thousand names and a thousand people, all you and not you all at once. Your hands are not your own and yet they are and yet they have been the hands of a thousand others and each has worn that red, woven ring and each has reached for completion in the dark.
Do as your many forms, many versions, many predecessors have done.
Reach and watch the blood drip from that strangling ring and remember.
Wander the ruins of your memories, sweetness, and listen for your hunters, catch glimpses of them in the archways to all the lives you have been theirs and they have been yours. Do you know how they all end?
Not this time, little bird. Not if we can help it.
(We will destroy ourselves in you.)
You’re starting to feel it, aren’t you?
Watched, that steady skin-prickle of unblinking eyes, the knowledge that you are not alone.
There are cameras all over the Capitol — security, after all, especially when the “free world” is run out of one small plot of land in one small time zone — but the eyes were never so demanding before… and you’ve never felt them crawling over you when you’re in what was once the comfortable privacy of your apartment.
(A deer-in-headlights, frozen kind of feeling.)
There are mornings you wake and you swear someone has been inside your apartment, has been watching you, has been through your things. The whisper of cologne, the misplaced box, papers out of place. There are nights you swear you hear a hum, the brush of warm breath against your neck, the pressure of an arm around your waist.
You don’t dream, those nights.
You don’t dream of the sun-bright halls or the dappled courtyard or the sound of your beloveds’ voices calling to you from darkened windows. You don’t dream of bloodstained tiles and fire and ash.
You don’t dream.
And you miss the nothingness.
(The night is barren and full of howls.)
The combination sets your teeth on edge — finally, sleep peaceful enough to feel human in… and then the gnawing reminder of its expenses.
You wake alone, from dreamless sleep, and find yourself bathed in early morning light, alarm trilling merrily beside you, another day closer to surrender.
The groceries delivered to your door without your asking, you dealt with. The flowers which appeared on your desk at work and sent the office into a flurry of gossip over who was courting you with a brilliant bouquet of pale-peach roses and three scarlet ones wound in gold thread at the center — those you tossed aside (and scandalized the Senator’s administrative assistant). The choker of glittering rubies set into brilliant gold, clearly carefully fitted to curve around your neck and accompanied by a matching set of chandelier earrings so beautiful they made your heart hurt… well, those you hid in the closet, alongside the invitation which accompanied them.
You know they’re waiting, watching. Steve’s threat rings in your ears sometimes, the promise of one last chance and the consequences of not listening to orders.
You play with wolves, with hungry growls and gnashing teeth and you can still feel Steve’s lips on yours when you curl yourself into your bed and try to hide from the eyes all around you, in this place which had once been your sanctuary. You feel them. Prowling.
The strings tug on your finger, warning you that they are close and some part of you wonders if you could just cut it off, rid yourself of the bondage by severing the thing it is on and fleeing. Fleeing what it means, fleeing the call, the blood, the warnings.
They are salvation, sweetness, they are peace.
They are death.
There is no work to bury yourself in today, no papers to hide in, no meetings to disappear inside. You are alone in your apartment and someone has been inside who should not be.
You play with wolves but you are determined not to make yourself prey again, determined to escape those snapping jaws and snarling calls but sweetness, do you see the hunter in the woods?
It’s not a siege.
It’s an ambush.
It’s an ambush the way that gloved hand feels around your wrist again, the moment you step outside to check your mail. It’s an ambush the way those steel-soft eyes meet yours and a single finger presses over soft lips, urging you Be quiet urging you Don’t scream urging you Listen. It’s an ambush the way he tugs you inside, presses you against the hard plane of your front door, holds you by the shoulders and whispers I’m not going to hurt you, little thing.
You should scream.
You should scream, you should drive your fists into the soft cartilage of his nose you should raise your knee to wound the space between his legs and you. Do. Nothing.
You stand, frozen and fixated deer-in-headlights and watch your hunter touch your cheek and watch your lover seem to break and watch your heart tear out of your chest and you are so lost you are so confused these are not your memories these…
Are someone else.
He is someone else.
Look at me.
Don’t do it. Don’t look, don’t look into those endless eyes, don’t let the stormclouds in his expression draw you in you may remember them but they are not the same.
They are not the same.
The camera feed feels like a mockery.
You’re afraid. He knows you’re afraid, it rolls off you in waves, pulses through the flickering image and sinks claws into his heart and he hates every minute of watching you dash from one room to the other like you might avoid being seen if you’re just fast enough. You’re looking for the wrong orange jackets, scared of the wrong hunters, how can they make you understand?
We shouldn’t have done this.
Steve’s jaw pulses when Bucky speaks, looking to the side while Zemo ignores him entirely, until he says it again, We shouldn’t have done this.
And then what? Lost her? Let her die?
Another lifetime wasted?
And we can help her not be. She’s ours.
You were always meant to be his.
(I would destroy myself in you.)
Steel eyes flicker to the band on his finger, red and aching, calling him, You scared her, Steve.
And there that jaw goes, pulsing, teeth grinding, shoulders tensing. Steve Rogers stands a little taller, a little stiffer, hands folded in front of him and eyes trained on those screens, wishing he had an excuse, an answer, a justification, She almost remembered.
No she didn’t. You know how this goes, she wouldn’t have —
Enough, Zemo’s voice cuts through the both of them, eyes never leaving the sight of your face, watching the recording of flowers being tossed aside on repeat, once, twice, thrice.
Let me talk to her.
We tried talking to her already, Buck.
You tried kissing her, not talking. We owe her an explanation.
What if she remembers then? She’s going to —
I know. I owe her an explanation.
An explanation. That’s what he tells himself when he looks at you, wide-eyed at the things you see and do not all at once, Don’t scream. Just listen, please, sweet girl, I just need you to listen.
You’re so frozen and he’s so sorry. Sorry he has to do this, sorry he has to see the fear in your eyes again, sorry this is the way things are every time, Look at me. Look at me, please, sweet thing, I swear I won’t hurt you.
You don’t trust him, and that’s smart, that’s survival, you shouldn’t trust him, you shouldn’t let him touch your cheek with that gloved hand but he does anyway, he does and eyes are glossy with unshed tears and his lips are trembling with unsaid words and he should pull back but he doesn’t.
Who are you? And do you notice the way your voice makes his whole body shudder, the way here calls the things you do not?
You saw me, sweet thing. You used to call me Bucky.
You used to call him so many things.
Sergeant Barnes, please. We need not frighten our friends.
What about lovers? Do they need to be?
I’m not going to hurt you, he promises again and the thing is, sweetness, you want to believe him.
You want to, with all the desperation and frantic want of someone clinging to the last piece of driftwood in a storm, but you know.
You know, don’t you, sweetling, the things that lay beneath the surface.
How many times will they clip your wings?
You could scream. You could scream, like you should have done, you could fight, like you should have done, you could demand to be set free, and you still do none of these things. You play with wolves and draw them in, don’t you rabbit?
Where is your violence?
You thought they would save you, once, you thought they would sweep you right out of that Senator’s office and away from the roaming fingers, the grasping hands, the hungry stares and now you are faced with those same things, coupled with a red ring you never wanted.
I don’t want you here, you try to insist, and the hand at your cheek merely curls soft over your lips, memories of calloused fingers on your skin bursting behind your eyes, Please just leave me alone.
Sweet thing, if I could, Bucky Barnes begins and breaks and for a moment you feel something like guilt, a laughing glance back at grasping hands, a whisper of affection in your ear, If I could, I would.
(If only running could save you, rabbit.)
The lock on the door clicks, sealing you inside, sealing you with him and you know you could never move fast enough, not fast enough to undo that bolt, not fast enough to wrench open that door, dash outside, dash away from his arms you are in the jaws of the wolf and here he is…
Carrying you oh-so-gently and you can hear the whisper in your ear, I have memorized you like a prayer.
He stokes no warmth in you, not on purpose, and yet your skin lights ablaze the moment those gloved hands brush over your arms, a trail of fire following his fingers as you are allowed to pull away, allowed to sink into the cotton of your blankets, allowed to hide and you do, little rabbit, you do.
Go away. I told him to leave me alone too.
I know, sweet thing, and I’m sorry. Steve shouldn’t’ve done that, he drawls, slow and sweet and you hate that the emotion which thickens his voice makes you want to hold him the way he’s wrapped his arms around you.
You remember, don’t you, that steady grip and the bloom of blood?
What do you want? Always so suspicious, so full of anger, so ready to fight, you are so desperate to make yourself look bigger in your hunters’ eyes but don’t you understand, sweetling? You will never be big enough.
They are going to consume you, run run run run…
T’see you, sweets… He’s fallen back into that familiar drawl, no longer half-pleading for your mercy, your attention, now that he knows he has it, even as you shrink away from the heavy arms around you. Can you feel it? Can you feel the cold metal behind his gloves?
But you know, don’t you.
You remember. What do you remember about them, rabbit?
How many times has that hand wrapped around your throat, how many times have you felt the life leave your lungs in the face of that steel-eyed gaze, how many times will you remember the jaws of the wolves snapping around you before you learn?
He sees it too.
He sees the terror in your eyes, the way you writhe, the push of your body away from his and he holds you against his chest, Shhh, shh, I swear I ain’t gonna hurt you, sweets, just listen to me, be good…
When you love wolves, you might as well make yourself prey.
He whispers your name against your temple, urges you still, rocks you slow and steady and there are no bruises on your neck but you remember them too well and your heart thuds blood through your ears, sends one last fleeting plea for survival before the world turns black and you crumple.
41 notes · View notes
The Setup - Part Two
Warning: Gangbang, Non-con (rape) and choking to kill. Knifeplay and mention of blood (very brief).
A/N: Dividers by @firefly-graphics. Sorry this took so long, I hadn’t feel the desire to write for like a week. But I'm back to writing and excited for this. I cut the smut short because I didn’t have it in me to write it for an entire chapter. Sam’s wife death is kind of what happened to the daughter in last house on the left.
Masterlist - part one
“Damn, that feels good.” You looked up teary eyed at Steve who was looking at the way your legs trembled. “Don’t start pleading to me now, this is what happens to bitches that think they can leave me.” His voice was really soft and that scared you more. It would have eased your mind if he had screamed at you, he was too calm and that means he was too far gone.
Pietro put his forehead against your back. He wrapped his arms around your waist, he started off with a slow and painful thrust. Then he started to speed up and pushed in deeper. He was breathing hard against your skin. His forehead was damp with sweat.
He started to pound in you harder. The room was filled with your muffled cries, the slapping of his skin against yours. The sound of his hand smacking at your clit with each thrust.
You were in so much pain and you wanted this to be over. You wanted to go home. You jolted again as Pietro's big hand came down on your sensitive pussy again. He took in a deep breath as he pushed in deeper.
It felt uncomfortable. It felt like he had ripped you apart with his hard thrusting. He cried out but quickly bit down on your shoulder which made you scream louder against the gag.
His teeth were digging deeper into your skin. He spilled his warm load deep in you. He slowly pulled out of you and watched as the cum leak out of you. You could feel his sweaty hands pulling on your binds as he turned you around.
“I need to take a moment. Whoever wants to go next the toy is ready.” Pietro pulled his pants up and sat back down. He opened a beer and took a long swing of it. It was well needed after he spent and almost an hour of fucking your ass.
Thor stood up and took off his leather jacket. He walked over to you and he walked around you to inspect you. You felt uncomfortable under his gaze, he made you feel like some fucking show pony. He reached up and uncuffed you. You collapsed into his arms.
“She’s already weak after Pietro.” He pushed you down on the floor. You hit the floor with a thud, you were going to turn on your stomach when Thor grabbed your hair. He pulled you to your knees and threw your head back. “Can she suck real well or will I have to teach our little one?”
“I think you should teach her.”
“Stay on your knees. I don’t want to get physical with you but I will, little lady.” He slowly let go of your hair and you stayed still. He slowly came in front of you and blocked your view of the other men. Thor pulled his jeans down and his dick sprung out. Thor was at least ten inches with some girth, maybe that came from him being a God.
You stared up at him when he took the gag off. “Thor, please. You don’t have t-” Before you could finish your sentence he shoved his dick down your throat. Your eyes teared up and your throat constricted around the head. Your throat was bulging because of his dick pushing back so far.
He put his hands on both of your cheeks. He slid your face back before pulling it forward, groans fell from his mouth as he guided your mouth almost like a fleshlight. You gagged more when he pushed inside of you deeper. He liked watching you tear up and drool over his dick.
“This is where you belong.” He kept thrusting in and out. Sometimes he would push in so deep that his pubes were brushing against the tip of your nose.
You were gurgling as Thor started to become more aggressive as he skullfucked you. His hands squeezed your cheeks as he forced you to bob up and down. His groans got louder and for some reason his dick seemed to be getting bigger. Your chest was starting to become wet because of your drool.
Thor groaned louder, he almost sounded like a wild beast as he relentlessly fucked your face. It seemed like he had been fucking your face for hours. Finally his hips stuttered and he buried himself deep down your throat.
He shot his warm load deep down your throat. He forced you to swallow all of his cum. When you wanted to gag he kept you locked in place, “Take all of it. You should be honored that I'm even giving you my seed.”
He kept his dick buried in your mouth until you had swallowed all of his seed. He slowly pulled himself out of your mouth. He pulled his jeans up and went to sit down on his chair.
You cleared your throat in a way to soothe it but there was no use. You felt so disgusting and used. Your skin was damp with sweat, Pietro bite mark was still tingling. Tony stood up and you knew that he was next.
The rich playboy rolled up his sleeves before walking over to you. He pointed to the ground like you were some common bitch. You spit on his shoes which made him snarl in disgust. He raised his hand to backhand you across the face which made you fall down. “Bitch,” was all he said but it was enough to cut you deep.
“I’m going to take you like a dog since you want to act like one.” He bent down and you could smell his cedar aftershave. He grabbed both wrists and started to take the handcuffs off. You formed a fist with your right hand and swung at his face. The fist connected to his jaw.
You watched as he stumbled to the ground. You scrambled to your feet and you started to run. The other four stood up and Thor had a grin on his face. “I love this game,” Tony stood up slowly with his hand to his face. You wasted no time running up the steps, the door was left ajar which made you smile out of relief.
“Shouldn’t we hurry up and get her?”
“She isn’t going to get very far.” Tony rolled his eyes as he made his way over to the steps with the other four men behind him. Tony was angry more than anything, he had a very short fuse that’s why pepper left him. You ran out of the basement not caring that you weren’t wearing any clothes. The only thing important right now was getting away from these sick fucks.
“Come back here you little bitch.” Tony held a lot of venom with that demand. He was growing increasingly angry, he didn’t like it when he couldn’t have his way. It was a part of his rich boy persona. You ran through the cabin until you finally came to the front door.
You sighed of relief when the door opened. The sound of their heavy footsteps told you to go. You did what your father told you all those years ago. Do what you must in order to survive. The old bastard knew the world was a cruel fucked place. You just wish you listened a little better.
You bite down on your tongue when your foot came in contact with a pebble or rock. You couldn’t stop, you just had to keep running. You hoped that you would come across a body of water.
Your heels sunk into the soft earth, grass getting stuck in between your toes. You pushed branches out of the way that cut you. Your breathing was starting to become more erratic. Your nose started to burn as you breathed harder. Your chest heaving harder as you overextended yourself.
Bucky was catching up now. When the hell did he catch up you thought to yourself. Fucking freak of nature you said to yourself. He pushed harder until he could push his body to slam. He rammed his body into yours and you went down. A thick branch pushing into your side. He put all his weight down on you until you stopped struggling. “Let me the fuck go!!” You screamed at him but he only snickered in your ear.
Tony spit on the ground as he walked closer to you and Bucky. He crossed his arms as he looked down at you. “Now she’s filthy.” Bucky slowly got off you and you were about to get up when Tony stepped on your hand. He bent down and smiled in your face. “I hope your hand breaks,” he pressed harder and a scream erupted from your mouth.
“Don’t break her hand.” Tony obeyed and you cried from the pain. It was a burning pain that made your hand tremble. Your body was starting to tremble, was it from the weather or fear. You turned on your back as all five stared down at you. You could see the evil in their eyes, you weren’t going to make it.
Thor was already rubbing at the front of his pants. He held a knife in his other hand. “You want to brand your girl?” He gave the knife to Steve who silently bent down. He slapped at your thigh which made you curse under your breath. You moved your head to see if there were any hefty branches but Pietro and Thor quickly held your arms down. Then Bucky and Tony held down your legs.
“No one is going to find your body. Shame no one will see my beautiful work of art.” Steve gave you a genuine smile, it was more creepy than his fake smile he usually gave you. He pressed the knife into your thigh. You screamed louder but he ignored it. He dragged the knife along your skin like it was a pencil.
You started to feel lightheaded and there were stars dancing in your vision. Your scream died on your tongue as you passed out to the feeling of the blade against your skin.
You woke up to the feeling of hands on your body. Someone’s chest pressed against your back. Your hands wrapped around something thick and hard. Your mouth was open wide as something pressed deeper until it was at the back of your throat.
You opened your eyes slowly and you were looking at Pietro’s pelvis. His dick sliding in deeper until you gagged. A long dick sliding in and out of your ass, a thick one inside your pussy. The sound of deep grunts and moans helping you to register what was happening. You tried to pull back but Pietro grabbed the back of your head.
Your thigh felt sore but so did every part of your body. Who knows how long they have been using your body. How long had they been dumping their cum in you or on you. You could feel sticky and dried cum all over your skin.
Pietro pushed in deeper as his hips stuttered. He shot his load down your throat. He kept his dick buried inside you until you swallowed all of him. He pulled out with a grunt and a string of your saliva attached to the head of his dick.
Before you could scream another dick was forcing itself inside your mouth. The two dicks were pressing against each other in your ass and pussy. The two of them rubbing against each other as they thrusted harder into your cum filled holes.
No one said anything to you. They just used you like a sex toy. Pushing dicks in your sore holes right after the other. You didn’t even realize they had finished, or realized that Steve was now wrapping his hands around your neck. You looked up into Steve’s blue eyes, you wheezed as he squeezed harder. He intended to kill you. How could this be so easy for?
You did the only logical thing because you couldn’t die like this. You closed your eyes and held your breath. Steve eventually stopped, stepping away from your body. “Alright, I’m hungry. I want a burger.” Then you heard laughter and feet descending away from your body. You took a steady breath out when they were far away.
You waited for what felt like an eternity. You opened your eyes and slowly sat up. You cried as you tried to stand off the ground. You were so damn tired but you had to go. They would probably come back to bury you soon.
You stumbled through the woods. You almost tripped over the small branches. Your mouth was dry and sticky. You had tears rolling down your face as you walked for what seemed like hours until you came across a bridge. You held onto the railing with your dirt covered hands. A car drove by but stopped before going any further. And you knew it was them. You swung your legs over the railing without a second thought and you plunged into the cold water.
You held your breath and swam underneath the bridge. You took a breath as you emerged from the murky waters.
“What the fuck, I told you to let me shoot her.”
“She isn’t going to survive at all. She’s going to drown.” They were arguing as they went back to the car. You waited until the car was far away before going underwater and swimming to God knows where.
You crawled up to shore. Your fingers digging into the soft earth. You were soaking wet with dirt and cum caked on your skin. The flower that was cut into your skin was healing. Sam was hunting with a friend when he came across your body. He watched you sobbing as you tried to stand. But you kept falling back in the dirt.
He pulled off his camo jacket and walked slowly to you. You heard footsteps and instinctively picked up a branch. “Stay the fuck back!” He held his hands up to surrender. “I want to help you. You look cold and I have a jacket here. It’s really warm.”
He moved closer until he could snatch the stick away. He kneeled down and wrapped his soft jacket around your body. You cried into his chest as he rubbed your back. “I got you.”
You woke up to the smell of lavender on your skin. Hot and cold patches on your body. The softness of the comfy clothes against your body. Your feet are covered in warm and fuzzy socks. Your hand and thigh was wrapped up in a bandage.
You slowly opened your eyes to see a small bedroom. White walls with posters of bands from the 90s. Pink drapes hanging over the big window. You noticed the slight pain in your hand and thigh.
The door opened and a woman walked in. You relaxed as she came over to check on you. She put the back of her hand against your forehead. “Good morning. You look much better today.”
You swallowed harshly and licked your dry lips. “How long have I been out?”
“For a week.” You sat up slowly but the room started to spin. “You haven’t eaten much in a week. I’ll have Sam bring you some food.” She called to Sam as you laid back down. He answered away from the door and then was gone. She looked over at you with one last cheerful smile. “We can talk later.”
And she was gone just like that. You looked around the room. There was a speaker that almost looked like the one your father gave you on your birthday. The man who wrapped you in his jacket walked in. He held a tray with a meatball sub and two water bottles. There was a cupcake with pink frosting that made your mouth watered.
Sam put the tray over your covered thighs. He sat down at the edge of the bed with his knee up. “I know who did this to you. He did the same thing to my wife.” He swallowed hard but offered no more information. You sat up and moved back until your back was pressed against the headboard.
“Did she make it?” He looked at you with tears in his eyes. “No, she didn’t make it.” That hit you like a train. You were the only one that was lucky to walk away. The others didn’t get to have that chance. Those sick bastards. “I’m going to kill every single one of them.”
He shook his head as if he didn’t believe you.
“You’ll see. All of them are going to wish I died. Pietro, Thor, Tony, Bucky and Steve will feel my fucking wrath. Do you understand me? I'm going to rip their hearts out.” There was silence between you two that was comfortable.
“I’ll help you.” You looked at him and he nodded his head. “I want them dead as much as you.”
Taglist: @peachescream06 , @buckyswillow, @buttercupfangirl, @daughterofthelion, @marvelatthisone, @luminousblackgirl , @charmed-asylum, @jennorm
86 notes · View notes
I'm starting to think about a new dark! Bucky's serie. The fact is, I also wanna write about a reader who is a mother. I actually never wrote of a reader being a mother of all the fictions I created, so I think this would be kinda... amazing. The question is, what do you think about it? Would you like the idea or give it a chance? 'Cause I'm kinda refusing to sleep and write something about it. 🌝
5 notes · View notes
MOODBOARD — WINTER SOLDIER X HYDRA!READER
«Remember. We must try to understand if we are victims of guilt complexes or not. If so, we must be freed of them. A guilt complex is a disturbance of the psyche, a neurosis. Let's not delude ourselves. Memory is not made of shadows, but of eyes which can stare straight at you, and fingers which point at you.»
— The Night Porter
19 notes · View notes