ok but imagine gang leader!zemo and reader,,
you're riding his cock when there's a knock on zemo's door and someone barges in (maybe a henchman or a gang member). they try to inform zemo about something important but stop when they see what's going on,, “o-oh, sorry boss, didn't know you had company” and tries to back out the room, but zemo is a cocky fucker and only smirks and orders them to stay,, you're trying to hide in his neck and getting all shy when really you only clench tighter around him.
zemo would notice this, “oh? does being watched turn you on, love?” you can deny it all you want, but he will use this against you,, manhandles you onto your hands and knees and plows deep into you.
he would grab ahold of your hair when he notices your head is down, “do not look away. keep your eyes on them or you don't get to cum, understand?” and all you can do is moan wantonly. he'd smack your ass and growl, “have I made myself clear?” and you scream yes, nodding furiously.
his henchman would be flustered, but you can tell they're affected by what's going on. zemo would glare; a little warning for them not to try anything.
when you're so close to the edge, zemo would lean in close to your ear, but loud enough for the other person to hear, “now, ask them if you can cum” ,, your face would grow hot with shame, but your need to let go overrides your embarrassment,, “I-I n-need to cum” you would sob. a resounding smack would fill the air, “where are your manners? that's not how you ask. AGAIN!”
you lock eyes with them, pleading, “please, please –oh fuck– let me cum, I've been so good to your boss! can I?”
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I spot something scurrying across the floor in my peripheral vision. It is a roach! I scream and yeet a shoe at it. I miss terribly. You barge into the room. “What's wrong?” you questioned, widened eyes scanning my distraught face.
My lips tremble as I point at the disgusting creature crawling in my discarded shoe. You stride towards my light up sketchers – a gift from my papa – and carefully lift it up, as to not alarm the tiny cretin.
You leave my presence; curiosity nipped at me, like a pigeon pecking at random objects littered on the dirty sidewalk. I follow you to the kitchen where you situated yourself. You make a racket as you toss pots and pans here and there, searching for something in particular.
You retrieve a skillet, hefting it high above your head, “Ah ha!” You bring the stove to life; a roaring fire licked at my body – ouchie.
You set the skillet down and with a flick of your wrist, you flip my badass footwear upside down – the roach lands on its back; limbs claw the air frantically for purchase. I can almost hear its screams as you force it down with a spatula. You toss your head back and cackle manically.
I look on in horror, disturbed by your actions.
I cannot believe you did not add oil (or butter. I'm not picky) beforehand.
To this day, the smell of charred bug still lingers in the air.
Let it be a warning to the rest of the pests that wander these halls.
the sheriff's leather encased hands trailed a path down your arms; goosebumps forming at the surface of your skin.
your head lolled to the side, showcasing your neck to his hungry, steel blue eyes. it took all of his willpower not to attack your pulse point, to leave behind a scattering of violet patches.
instead, he leans in close – the scent of whiskey clouding your senses, “when you're in bed at night, with that sorry excuse of a partner, you'll be reminiscing about what I've done to you... how my touch alone can leave you a shivering mess.”
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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.
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a concept: thief!reader and helmut zemo
imagine you're one of those thieves that target wealthy people, your disdain for them comes from a place of hurt.
you're in the better parts of town and see this luxurious car parked in front of this mansion.
you survey the area before breaking in. once you're behind the wheel, you can't help but admire it; running your hands over the steering wheel and leather seats. you decide to hot wire the car – listening to the engine roar to life
as you adjust the mirror, you jump out of your skin when you notice someone in the backseat: none other than the infamous baron helmut zemo.
“well, what a lovely surprise,” he'd muse. “I see I have a common thief on my hands.”
I can imagine you'd be the type that don't scare easily. So, instead of cowering from being caught, you meet his smirk with a sneer. “not very smart of you to keep your prized belongings out here. normally, you rich assholes are selfish with your money and toys”
“because these folks understand what will happen if they dare cross me. I am not one to take kindly to petty thievery. you will soon learn, don't you worry.”
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fandom: marvel cinematic universe
pairing: dark!doctor!steve rogers x patient!reader
warnings: use of a needle, threat of violence, a lame joke at an inappropriate time 🙄
photo edit ©: me (that's why it looks a bit shitty lmaoo)
“tell me why I shouldn't carve up this beautiful face of yours, sweetheart?” dr. rogers inquired, the blade of his scalpel glinted in the harsh fluorescent light.
you thrashed wildly in his hold; a latex covered hand pressed against your mouth to conceal your screams.
“stop moving or I will cut out your tongue and force it down your throat!” he threatened with a sneer.
your eyes grew wide as saucers, panic began to settle in your chest – the tremors in your hands a stark contrast to the doctor's steady and precise ones.
“now, I'm going to remove my hand,” he instructed, as if speaking to a startled child, “and when I do, you better not try anything funny. nod if you understand.”
you lock eyes with him and bobbed your head in response. “excellent.”
he cautiously removed his hand, trepidation swirling in his steel blue eyes.
once you had the notion that you were free of his scrutiny, you made a run for it and wailed, “somebody help me!”
clenched fists banged in synchrony on the solid, steel door; echoes reverberated in the room, your futile efforts traveling back to your ears.
“the one thing I tell you not to do, and you have the nerve to do it anyway.” he tuts behind you. you glance over your shoulder to see him stalking towards you, one arm hidden behind his back.
“I didn't plan on doing this yet,” he sighed, as if this whole thing was a mere inconvenience, “but I can't have you running away from me and ruining my plans.”
“wha-” the words died on your lips; it happened in a blur – a sting, where your shoulder and neck meet, began to blossom, and your vision grew hazy.
breathing proved difficult and your speech slurred, tumbling over each other as they tried to make sense.
you felt the world tip over, but before you could hit the ground, sturdy arms caught you around the waist.
“there you go, I gotcha,” dr. rogers exclaimed, “you're in good hands.”
the last thing you sensed before you went under was the soft press of his lips against your forehead.
“a kiss to make the pain go away, doctor's orders.”
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I don't even know you anymore' played on an endless loop in steve's head; a constant reminder that something changed within him, something he wasn't aware of until it was too late.
until you were looking at him with wide, fearful eyes – backing away slowly to put some distance between the two of you.
he reached a gloved hand out, tentatively, trying to gauge your reaction.
“don't– don't touch me!” you screeched, jumping back as if you've been scorched.
“please, don't be afraid,” steve whispered, stalking closer to you. “I'm not going to hurt you, honey.”
something snapped in you as you bared your teeth at him, “don't call me that!”
“c'mon, don't be like that,” he chuckled, a sardonic smirk twisting his features. “you weren't saying that when–” a resounding smack interrupted the tense, heavy air; a hand slid up his stinging cheek, bewilderment rising in his cobalt blue eyes.
“watch it, rogers,” you snarled, stabbing a finger – the same hand you used to strike him with – into his broad chest. “i'm not going to tell you again. stay the fuck away from me.”
he allowed you to walk away; he had the strength to overpower you, to bend you to his will, but where was the fun in that?
no, he lead you to believe that he was over and done with you.
it was all part of a grander scheme, you see – all he had to do was bide his time and play his cards right. for now, he was content with your naivety, so sure that you were out of the lion's den.
but he had no intentions of letting you go – not when the fire inside of you excited him, brought out something wicked to the surface.
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note: got the idea here (I pulled up a random number generator and chose three) and I wrote down four characters on slips of paper + picked a random one.
➬ 56. "why are you still with me?" ✧ 73. "don't say anything else, just stay." ✧ 81. "why can't you see that?"
(pairing: helmut zemo x reader | fandom: marvel | genre: somewhat angst, sprinkle of fluff | warnings: none)
“why are you still with me?” helmut questioned, deciding at the time to interrupt the shared silence. you glanced up from your book, dipping a finger to mark your spot, and chuckled, “what kind of question is that, helmut?”
he fidgeted with the gold necklace he always wore around his neck: a keepsake from his past that he no longer spoke of. when his eyes met yours, you were taken aback by the solemnity in his gaze; the question was one that seemed to hold weight on his mind, and your answer would either keep him afloat or drag him under.
“hel, where's this coming from?” you swivel your body to face him, hands reaching up to grasp his face, the pads of your thumbs smoothing over the slight stubble sprinkled over his jaw.
“you know the man I used to be,” he started, hesitancy in his tone, “the things I've done that I thought were right... justified,” he rambled, distress marking his features.
“while I may be a free man, there are still people from my past out there in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike me where it pains me the most... you.” his thin lips quiver at the thought, “and I don't think I could ever forgive myself if anything happened to you.”
“so, you think – for that very reason – I should leave you?” you ask, disbelief written all over your face.
“love, I don't want this life for you. to be constantly relocating, putting your life at risk, wondering when you'll finally have some semblance of normalcy.” he pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation, “look, all I'm saying is–”
you cut him off with a finger to his lips, “the man you were 10 years ago is not the same man you are now. why can't you see that? I chose to be with you, I knew what came along with the decision.”
the bedsheets rustled underneath you as his arms sought your waist; head carefully tucked in your collarbone, warm breaths fanning over your neck. you mindlessly skim your hand through his chestnut locks, massaging his scalp with the tips of your fingers, reveling in his pleased hum.
“don't say anything else, just stay,” he whispered; vulnerability evident in the way his arms tightened their hold on your body – afraid that you would slip away, like you always did in his nightmares.
“I'm not going anywhere, hel. I don't care what happens, I can handle this. all I want is for you to trust me, okay?”
you feel him nod against you – words abandoning him in favor of a physical agreement.
for the rest of the night, murmurs of reassurances and promises filled the short space between the two of you.
helmut – for once in his life – slept with no worries; the light press of your chest to his back a visible metaphor of your loyalty.
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imagine dark!bucky using his heightened sense of smell against you.
when he catches you staring at steve and smells your slick running down your thighs, he shames you until you're a little ball of submission, “you're a fucking whore, wanting someone else to fuck you after I had my way with you. are you that desperate to be filled up? want all your holes stuffed with cum, don't ya? am I not enough? no, you're just a greedy lil bitch.”
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imagine riding rockstar!bucky in the backseat of his car.
one hand on his chest, traveling to his nipples to brush against his piercings, and the other hand wrapped around his neck, alternating between a slight squeeze to rough choking.
his black rimmed eyes are rolling back, and his dark hair is fanned out, stray pieces sticking to his sweaty forehead.
“s-shit, just like that, doll,” he'd gasp. “them other ones could never fuck me good like you do”
when you slam back down onto his cock his back would arch, sweat glistening on his tattoos; almost makes you want lap it up, nibble on the ink.
instead, you'd tug harshly at his chains, bringing him close to your face. lips wandering to his ear, teeth tracing his earlobe, “that's because they don't know what a whore you really are”
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can you imagine inexperienced!reader shyly asking best friend!bucky to help them out with a dildo they just bought. like bucky is holding it and he guides it into them,, has reader ride it jsbdjd
“c'mon, you can take it all, I know you can. hey, look at me, breathe. there you go. you're doing so good for me,” he sprinkles kisses on your neck, before his teeth clamps down on your shoulder, tongue smoothing over the bite mark.
“f-fuck.. I-I..,” you mumbled under your breath, too ashamed to voice your needs.
“what do you want, doll?” cerulean eyes twinkled in amusement.
you couldn't piece together words, frustration bubbling underneath the surface as you try to fuck yourself harder on the dildo.
“you rather have my cock fucking you instead of this worthless piece of silicone, don't ya?” he growled with a sharp thrust, causing you to cry out and clench around it.
he'd lazily bring the dildo in and out of your hole, observing the way you swallow it, greedy to be filled.
“that's what you want, huh? to be stuffed with something bigger, warmer,” cockiness was evident in his tone, as if he knew you needed something better — needed him.
“p-please,” you whimpered, as tears formed at the corners of your eyes.
you hissed as he slid the toy out, your hole fluttering around nothing.
“well,” he fumbles with his belt buckle, chuckling as he takes in your spread out form, “who am I to deny when you look so cute like this, begging for me?”
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I was looking through various websites for knives and they were kinda pricy 😬 some were over a thousand dollars.
It got me thinking of sugar daddy!zemo buying me the ones I've been eyeing,, and with his military background + history of crime, he teaches me to fight with them. he gives me a new pet name “my lil warrior”
thinking of sparring matches 💞 him fixing my form, dodging when I lash out with the blade, crouching down to kick at my leg, and when I topple to the mat he hovers over me with a cheeky grin. he reaches out a hand to help me up and when I accept it he pulls me closer, nose to nose, “I think we need a few more lessons, my love”
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➮ dark!steve rogers / small mention of bucky barnes (had nomad steve in mind when I wrote this)
➮ listened to if i killed someone for you by alec benjamin for inspo i love that song so much jsbdj
➮ warnings: mention of murder (a bit descriptive), mild cursing, obsessive steve, reader getting choked (but not in a good way), steve being a creep
➮ hope you enjoy this lil... drabble? whatever, ENJOYYYY,, I sure as hell did.. until tumblr fucked my work up and I had to finish it off differently lmaooo
➮ divider: mines :)
a loud bang jump starts my heart, evicting me from dreamland; the sound was a stark contrast to the silent, peaceful night. I'm on high alert, the adrenaline races through my veins. I gather myself from the bed, grabbing the closest thing to me — a desk lamp — to use as a weapon.
the poundings continue as I tip toe my way to the front door of my living room. each step brought me closer to the unknown; the taste of the inevitable sat rancid on my tongue.
when my nose kissed the white paint, my eyes peered into the peep hole. from the poorly dimmed porch light, I could make out a tall, hulking figure, but there was something in their posture — the hunch of their shoulders and the way their hands buried themselves into faded, denim jeans — that made me breathe out a sigh of relief.
there was no mistaking it, it was my good 'ol friend, steve rogers: a punk from brooklyn and earth's mightiest hero.
tossing the makeshift weapon aside, I flung open the door to meet his wide, cerulean eyes. he shifts from side to side, as if something has set him off edge. “what the fuck are you doing at my house at this hour, rogers?” I questioned in a harsh whisper. he fidgets with the rings on his fingers, a nervous habit I've grown accustomed to and even found endearing. but it wasn't until I noticed the crimson stains, how they seem to envelop the sterling silver.
"my god, steve! what happened?" my eyes couldn't leave his hands, the blood appeared fresh and bright. "let me in and I'll tell you everything. I just need to get out of sight, please."
I was about to welcome him in, but there was this sudden voice in my head — a faint whisper of a warning — that stopped me in my tracks: he seems nervous. something's not right here. no, no, this is steve rogers! he wouldn't harm a fly, let alone me. my inner struggle and slight hesitance didn't seem to affect steve as he barges past me, leaving no room for protest. I slid the door shut, unaware of my sealed fate.
he flops on the couch, clenching and unclenching his fists in sync; nose flaring and veins bulging, he was the epitome of highly strung. "you know I did this for you, right?" he remarked with a scowl, steel eyes locked on me. "did what? what are you implying?" but it was as if I never spoke, he continues on, "bucky should've left things alone. he should've backed off, but he always loved a little challenge, always enjoyed pushing me past my limits." the air grew still, only the sound of steve's ragged breathing can be heard. "steve... what did you do?"
his hand cups my jaw, thumb smoothing over the lone tear unbeknownst to me. "well, I killed him, darlin'; felt like an avenging god in that moment. with every thrust of my shield, I could hear his bones crack, the wheezing in his chest when he struggled to breathe. you should've seen the shock in his eyes, the way his hands reached out towards me to make me stop. it was a high I can never recover from." no remorse was detected in his tone, and in that moment I caught a glimpse of his full power, of so much more he's capable of.
I recoiled from his touch, "no, no, you don't understand! he ruined everything, he shouldn't have gone near you. this isn't my fault, please! don't look at me like that, I had to—" and that's when I leaped to my feet and bolted. I made my way to the set of stairs to get a hold of my phone to call for help, when something solid barrels into me from behind and pins me to the steps.
I writhe in his grasp, to no avail; his whole weight melts into me, thick arm encased around my neck to hold me in place. his warm breath traces my neck, and I bite back a pained whimper. he snarls into the shell of my ear, "why are you so upset? you know he wouldn't have treated you the way you deserve. I'm the only one who can take real good care of you."
"s-steve, y-you don't have to do this. please, just let me go."
"I didn't want to have to hurt you, honey. I'm not looking for forgiveness, and I'm way past asking permission, but I can't let you slip away from me."
"w-what are you doing? no, sto—" his muscles tighten, restricting my airflow. my hands frantically claw at his arm, desperate to alleviate the burning in my lungs beginning to blossom. "shh, I got you. I'm here. it'll be over soon, just— just go to sleep." black dots begin to scatter across my vision, brain going hazy at the edges, and with the added pressure to my windpipe, I'm drowning in the sea of unconsciousness.
his arm unwinds from my motionless body, a trembling hand take its place. sneaking his way to my locks, he lifts a piece and guides it to his nose. with a minuscule inhale, he murmurs, "it didn't have to go this way, sweetheart. you just made me so angry, it wasn't fair of you, but all is forgiven, I promise." releasing my hair to tumble back to frame my face, steve swipes at my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb; observing the way it looked swollen and bitten, with a tilt of his head.
"my, my, you look so stunning like this. I can't wait to have you all to myself," he muses to himself with a dark chuckle.
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“darling, what would you do for me?” he asks, his hand cradles your jaw, thumb smoothing over your cheek and finding its way to your bottom lip. your eyelids were growing heavy with his subtle movements; helmut always had that affect on you, making your head heady with longing and arousal.
“anything, my love,” you replied, nuzzling into his touch, much like an affectionate cat to its owner. your response earned you an approving hum and a dark chuckle. gazing up at him with a puzzled look on your face, you asked, “what is it that you desire?”
helmut placed one gloved hand on the side of your neck, feeling the erratic thump of your pulse. he brought his mouth closer to your ear and whispered, “would you kill someone for me, my dove?” the slight hitch in your breath went undetected; a smirk painted his features and he had to marvel in the way your eyes widened at his unexpected question.
“would you be willing to snuff out a life to prove your love for me?” he questions, and with a twist of his wrist his hand takes root in your hair, yanking your head back; a harsh whine escapes your throat. he's looming over you, dark brown eyes piercing you into submission. even in this state, there was this irrational urge to please him — you were greedy for his approval, wanting to drown in his praise.
he noticed the sudden shift in your demeanor; your soft eyes steeled themselves and your lips curled up like a cheshire cat that caught the canary. as he released his hold on your locks, you challenged his gaze, unblinking eyes never daring to falter. with teeth bared, you snarled in response, “who shall it be, master?” you could never forget that glint in his eyes, as if he knew your undying loyalty was the greatest asset he held in his possession.
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oK imagine dark!bucky stroking himself in front of you.
maybe he has you tied up, or on your knees. you don't get to touch yourself or him because you disobeyed his order: don't talk to steve, don't even go near him. but whoOPS! that's exactly what you did, and more.
maybe you engaged in a little flirting, let a stray hand linger for too long, giggled a little too loudly. and when bucky found out, he was furious; steel blue eyes locked in on your sheepish expression. you had the audacity to look like you were sorry!
and here you were — unable to do anything as you watched his metal hand rub his cock, up and down; a few twists and precum was already leaking. he would smirk at how desperate you'd look.
he'd tease you with his words, “aw, does my baby need something? getting a lil cock hungry, aren't ya?” and when you look up at him with tears in your eyes and whimper he'll be like, “well, that's too bad. dumb little sluts don't deserve to be fucked. you know what you did wrong, so this is your punishment.”
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imagine sucking and biting bucky's nipples through his muscle shirt 🤤 like you're straddling him and when you latch on, the feeling of your hot mouth on him has him groaning, head thrown back, fist clenched, hips bucking up against yours.. maybe he has one hand in your hair and he's gripping it so tight it's enough to make you hiss in pain but it feels too good you can't help but moan, the vibrations on his nipples making him cum immediately. and when you look up at him he has a fucked out expression on his face
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gunfire smoke penetrated the air, the metallic taste grew heavy on bucky's tongue; the aftermath of the fight was always the worst of it.
bodies were strewn all over the cracked, concrete ground—limbs and blood overlapping. he never enjoyed this, but he couldn't turn down a mission given to him; it was almost as if it was ingrained into his system.
his metal fingers flexed subconsciously, reliving the memory of his hand wrapped tightly around his target's neck, pressing on until their eyes lost focus and rolled back; their choked gasps and pleas for bucky to show mercy fell on deaf ears.
looking back at that moment, bucky realized the winter soldier will always be there, skirting around in the darkest parts of him, standing by until he is needed again.
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i may not be a writer but i do understand the feeling when you'd rather have your stuff reblogged than liked..
“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I've been lusting after this man — this man of God — you see. I know it's wrong, but the temptation overrides my need to do good. I think about getting on my knees for him, like he does so to pray. But while he uses his mouth to speak to his Maker, I want to use mines for his pleasure.”
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there's like two priest!zemo things that I've written that I put under the 'darkbucky writes' tag YET tumblr is being a bitch & not showing it
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