#Dark!Bucky x Reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dungeonpuppykai · 9 months

Note

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.

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

Soldat feels something stir within himself.

Something his masters did their best to suppress.

Not that they would be doing any more of that.

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

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

You are laughing.

At your friend that is throwing up.

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

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

His eyes scan your form.

Beautiful.

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

Mine.

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

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

And it's time to go home.

But a home is not walls and concrete.

It is the people that live in it.

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

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

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

For what is a structure without its pillars?

He had plundered them single handedly.

And now he was a slave no more.

James would live, and he would take.

Just as had been taken from him.

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

You should have taken notice of the signs.

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

Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was.

Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence.

And Divine it was, you lived to learn.

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

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

What even happened?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widen in horror.

Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–

Or, rather, the last time you were awake.

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

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

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

With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.

"Who the hell are you?"

He sighs.

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

The man's features scrunch in disapproval.

Your choice of words is much unappreciated.

"Good little wives don't ask questions."

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

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

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

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

He is too close.

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

The shock on his face is evident.

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

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

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

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

Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.

You run without looking back.

The man is not chasing you like you expected.

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

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

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

Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.

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

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

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

You ran into the jungle for some cover.

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

Your body is weak and confused.

Many hours pass.

You wander and starve.

You hide and shake.

You tip toe and give up.

There are wild animals all around you.

You can hear them.

It's terrifying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He tells you your rules as he does so.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don't give up easily, though.

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

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

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

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

But you don't know when he does it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today, though, something different happens.

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

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

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

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

No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.

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

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

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

Has to be.

You have no choice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don't get him sometimes.

His morals are as mysterious as him.

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

Your tears don't effect him.

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

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

The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It had been a proud discovery of yours.

James always gave in a little whenever you used it.

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

Fuck.

"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"

"What about it?"

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had done so in the past as well.

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

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

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

And then comes the ultimate test.

Which decides the course of your future with him.

He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.

It isn't a usual occurrence.

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

While he had a metal arm himself…

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

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

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

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

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

A motorboat.

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

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

You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting.

A lot goes through your mind.

Flashbacks play before your eyes.

It is almost a full circle moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"

You two just stare at each other for a while.

No words exchanged.

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

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

He has never spoken this earnestly before.

"I just realized that I do too."

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

He tightens his own arms around you gladly.

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

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

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

It was a test and you passed.

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

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

What do you think hAH-

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kaismasterlist · 1 year

Text

|| Bliss ||

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

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

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

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

Status: Complete.

Chapters:

III

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

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months

Text

can't fight the moonlight

kinktober, day twenty-nine

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

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

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

word count: 2345

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

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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highonmarvel · 10 months

Text

Ribs

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

additional content warnings here!

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

Non Con Warning!

What’s scarier than dating Bucky? Leaving him.

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

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

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

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

Except when you asked him to stop.

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

You settled on a random town in Colorado.

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

I’ll find you you fucking cunt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Deep down, you knew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s pure evil.

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

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

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

“You fucking bitch!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ribs (II)

✪

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

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nicestgirlonline · 7 months

Text

Let Me Hear You Scream

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT AHEAD! 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI! language, threatening situations, DUB CON, horror elements

Word count: 3.8k

Summary: It’s the 90s so you actually answer the phone when you’re watching movies

a/n: Happy Halloween yall!!!! Still working on other projects but really wanted to get something out for Halloween! This was for @witchywithwhiskey’s Horror Movie Hoe-a-thon! the prompts I picked were Scream and “I’m your boyfriend now” Hope you all enjoy!!!! Thanks for reading, I’d love your feedback! Reblogs and comments are love <3

1993. A sleepy suburban town, where nothing exciting ever happens. Friday night.

Your friends were all going out to Wanda’s party, but you were stuck housesitting for your aunt. Your mom had promised you would house sit weeks ago, so you couldn’t get off the hook. It was a big empty house, more rooms than your aunt could ever need. Most were filled up with storage and dust bunnies.

You tried to make the best of the boring night-in. You rented some Meg Ryan movies with plans to completely veg out. You ordered an extra large pizza with all of your favorite toppings and raided your aunts pantry for snacks.

You glanced down at your shirt and saw red. Pizza sauce! Blooming red circle right in the center of your cream sweater. You let out a huff of frustration. Some Friday night.

You changed into comfy nightwear--a baby blue cotton gown that brushed the very top of your knees, along with a pair of fluffy bunny slippers for good measure. You settled back down in front of the TV.

RING. RING. RING.

You picked up the phone, squeezing it between your ear and shoulder as you carried your snacks over to the kitchen.

“Hello,” you used your best fake customer service voice. Your aunt had asked you to take down any messages. She must have a new boyfriend she was hoping would call. You wait for a response but all you can hear is low breaths through the receiver. “Hello?” You try again

“Is this Sidney?” The voice was weirdly distorted and hard to place. It was deep, clearly a man’s voice.

“Sorry, wrong number dude.” You hung up before he could let another word out. You set the phone down by the cradle and go back to making your snacks. You got out the big popcorn bowl.

The phone rang out again. “Hello?” You answered. You really hadn’t expected to be fielding this many phone calls.

“Hey. Did I call you earlier?” It was the same strange voice. You blew some air through your lips, how annoying.

“Sidney’s not here. Have a good night--”

“Aw man. She must have given me a fake number. I don’t mean to bother you over and over tonight.” He sighed, sounding very apologetic.

“No worries. Have a good night.”

“Wait, wait. I like the sound of your voice.”

You paused. Was it totally weird to just chat with this guy? Yeah. But what harm could it be? You felt a bit of a flutter in your stomach. You never had talked to a stranger over the phone like this. It felt clandestine! You decided to go with it.

“Better than Sidney’s?” You asked, trying to make your voice sound as flirty as possible. You heard him hum approval.

“Much better than…let’s not talk about her. What are you doing tonight?” There was something very familiar about his voice. There was a crackle and static that made it so you couldn’t quite make it out. It must be a shitty connection.

“I was having a movie night. I’m making some snacks right now.” You started to curl the phone cord around your finger.

“What are you watching, Pumpkin? Something scary?”

“No way. I hate scary movies.”

“Especially not when you’re alone right?”

“Uh - um - I’m not alone. Actually.” You lied. How did he know you were alone? Was he just guessing?

“Scary movies are always scarier when you’re all alone, in a big empty house, that’s in the middle of nowhere,” he continued.

A shiver went down your spine. That was a bit too accurate. But there's no way he could possibly know where you were. It was a phone call!

“I just don’t like them. It's either some creepy slasher stabbing some big boobed blonde through her white t-shirt or a ghost that's a metaphor for trauma. No thank you,” you sighed.

“I think you’re being a little hard on them. Maybe if you watched them with a guy to cling to you’d like them more. Do you have a boyfriend?”

There it was. Obviously the alone comment was him trying to set the mood.

“Why do you want to know? Already over Sidney?” You teased him.

“Answer the question.” He was very serious. You didn’t like the tone he had.

“Yes, I do. Are you going to hang up?” You lied again, trying to call his bluff.

“You don’t have a boyfriend. What are you wearing? Something cute and virginal? What about your underwear?” You pulled the phone away from your ear in shock. You were officially too skeeved out. This wasn’t some poor guy who got slipped a fake number. He was a weirdo!

“Ok perv, I’m over this. Bye.”

“I wouldn’t hang up Y/N.” His voice was suddenly hostile. He spat each syllable out filled with hatred. Your blood ran cold. Your heart started to race. How would he possibly know your name?

“Is this a prank? Not very funny. Is this you Tony?” Your voice shook with fear.

“Who’s Tony? That your boyfriend?” He snarled.

“This is a really bad joke. Did someone put you up to this? Scott? Knock it off now!”

“Jesus you’ve got a lot of men in your life. Are you trying to make me jealous or something? I don’t like sharing.”

“I’m serious, this is a bad joke, so just give it up already.” You cried out, you looked around, making sure you were still totally alone.

“I don’t give up so easily. Do you, Pumpkin? Do you give it up to any guy who looks in your direction? I bet you do, you slut. That's why you're talking to a guy you don’t know while you’re all alone.”

“I’m hanging up, I already told you I’m not alone. My boyfriend is here! He’s big and he plays football. S-so don’t call back ok?” You tried to sound as forceful as possible but your lips wobbled and you tripped over your words.

“Pumpkin, you’re lying to me. You’re all alone in that big house in the middle of nowhere, wearing that skanky nightgown. I can see your nipples poking through this whole time. You’re so turned on by a psycho on the phone, huh?”

You let out a scream. You slammed the phone down, hanging it up. You started to spin a circle looking at all the windows, trying to see if you could see somebody watching you. You ran to the front door to make sure they were locked. You went window by window locking them and shutting the curtains. You took a chair from the kitchen and dragged it in front of the door, jamming it beneath the door knob.

RING RING RING RING

You looked around, trying to remember where all of the doors were in the house. You spun around running to the kitchen entrance. You double checked the lock and put the chain on the door. You slid down the door with your back pressing against it trying to catch your breath.

This wasn’t real. This had to be some fucked up prank. The guys were all too hyped up for Halloween and wanted to get a scare out of you. The ringing stopped and you heard the voicemail click, your aunt's outgoing message began to play.

“You screening your calls, skank? You’re gonna die, you little whore! I’m gonna see what your insides look like --” You picked up the phone just to end the message and slammed it back down. As you scampered away it fell down, swinging from the cord. You take off up the stairs, stumbling up the stairs.

You dash into the guest room you had been staying in. You quickly locked the door. Your hands were shaking still. How was this happening?

The window started to jiggle. You could hear the groaning old wood start to slide. With nothing better to arm yourself with you grabbed a pillow and started to wildly smack the intruder with all you could.

“Whoa whoa whoa, it’s me -- it’s me!” Bucky Barnes, your classmate, was gripping the window sill, flabbergasted from the pillow. You hadn’t even had time to register who it was before you attacked.

“Bucky? What the fuck are you doing here?” You demanded. This proved to you it had to be some kind of a prank. Why else would Bucky Barnes, the moody guy from your film class be climbing up to your room.

“Well, when you said you were busy tonight I thought I could just surprise you? Like a grand romantic gesture or something? Can you um, let me in? It's actually kind of cold.” He was shivering out there. He looked so earnest it tugged on your heart just a bit.

You motioned for him to come in. He heaved his body up, awkwardly crawling through the tight window then falling to the ground. He sprang back up quickly, smiling at you.

“Is this a prank? Are you in on this with the other guys or something?” You crossed your arms.

“Um, other guys? Are there other guys here? I thought I was being original.” He peered around you as if to look for them. You rolled your eyes.

“The phone calls Bucky. I’m not joking around.”

“What phone calls? I’ve been driving all night to get here from campus, then shimmying up some ivy. Haven’t exactly had any time to stop at a payphone. You know what. This was a bad idea, I can see that, I’ll just leave.” He sheepishly put his hands in his pockets as he crouched down to leave the way he came.

“No, no wait!” You grabbed him, keeping him from going outside. If it wasn’t Bucky then there was still a psycho out there! “I don’t know what's going on, but this weird guy kept calling me, and he was watching me! Like I think he was outside the house or something.”

“Calm down, calm down. I was just outside. There's nobody out there. It was probably just a prank call.”

He started to rub your back with slow soothing circles. It was intimate in a way you weren’t used to from Bucky. He was the quiet one, never really hung out unless Steve was around. His palm pressed into your lower back, holding you closer to him. His other hand cupped the back of your head, guiding you into the crook of his neck.

“You’re getting so worked up. Maybe you should just lie down.” He shushed you as you tried desperately to explain it wasn’t a prank call. He guided the two of you down to the bed. He laid down next to you.

“Bucky…why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you, I thought you knew…isn’t it obvious how I feel about you?”

Your head was spinning. Bucky liked you? He barely even talked to you! When he casually asked if you were going to Wanda’s party you assumed it was just small talk. He had grunted and left the second you told him you were busy.

“I think I should call the cops about this--”

“I’m here aren’t I? I’ll keep you safe.” His lips connected with yours silencing you from responding. His kiss was eager, but still so gentle. He slowly moved his lips against yours, basking in the taste of you. He took his time and slowly you could feel his tongue ghosts against your bottom lip, looking for entrance.

Maybe it was the adrenaline, the shock, or maybe Bucky was just an extremely good kisser, but you quickly fell under the spell of the kiss. You let yourself get lost kissing him, trying to forget the phone call prankster that had been terrorizing you.

Fear was still racking through your body, but Bucky felt safe. You tangled your hands in his hair bringing him closer. His hand slowly traced up and down your leg. Both his hands grasped your legs, essentially pinning you down. You felt a cool air waft over your thighs as his fingers gently crept beneath your nightgown.

He cupped you over your underwear, grabbing the elastic and letting it snap back against your skin. You finally broke free of the kiss to gasp. He sat back on his ankles, his hand still toying with your panties.

“Bucky, I--”

“Shhh it's ok. I’m here to save the day. No one's gonna hurt you while I’m around.” He pushed aside your panties and started to slowly circle your clit. You whined as he circles you again and again, the pleasure rushing through you and pushing every thought of terror out of your brain.

He pressed his thumb against your clit and dipped his fingers inside of you. He curled his fingers, dragging more moans out of you. As he fucked you with his fingers, you tilted your hips up for more delicious friction.

“That's it my brave girl, Bucky’s here for you,” he murmured above you. He spoke with such hard conviction. His eyes were intensely boring into yours, nearly unblinking. He was no longer softly in the throws of passion. He was a man on a mission.

He kept pumping his fingers, he brought his other hand up from your leg to palm himself through his jeans. He groaned as he adjusted himself and went back to work on you. His other hand circling around your inner thigh, moving your leg up to his shoulder.

“Bucky, please, please,” you babbled as the pleasure began to mount and mount. It was nearly unbearable as you chased your release, grinding your hips up and down on his hand, riding his fingers towards that sweet relief.

“Yes, you’re doing so well, you’re perfect.” He brought his lips to your neck and began to suck at your sensitive spot. You let out a cry of pleasure as your climax flowed over you. You clamped your legs together, biting down on your lip as another cry came out.

You took a moment to catch your breath, Bucky was still nibbling on your neck. You grabbed his face and brought his lips back to yours. He eagerly responded, his lips enveloping yours.

You grabbed the underwear that you were still wearing and rolled it down your body to fling them off. You sat up and grabbed at Bucky until you found his belt. You fumbled, trying to unbuckle it. Bucky's hands quickly found yours and he brought them together, kissing both your palms. He unbuckled the belt on his own. Removing it without ceremony or flourish. He then yanked his jeans and underwear down.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

“I want you so badly, Bucky,” you moaned.

He let out a strangled gasp that turned to laughter. You tilted your head at the reaction. He didn’t sound exactly happy, it was more sinister.

“I just have waited so long to hear you say that to me. I’m so happy right now,” he nearly giggled. He giddily took off his jacket, tossing it to the ground.

“Keep me distracted Bucky, ok?” You asked as you hitch your nightgown up to your waist.

“Oh yes, anything for you, Pumpkin.” He had a devilish smirk on his face as he pressed his lips to your navel, slowly kissing his way up. He grabbed your nightgown and finished taking it off. Tossed it to the side with the pile of his clothes.

He made his way up your abdomen before groping your chest with a satisfied hiss. He squeezed you roughly, making you squeak. He latched his lips onto your breast. You let out a gasp as he lightly bit down. He tended thoroughly to each breast, his wicked tongue teasing at your pebbled nipples until you were a moaning puddle.

He grasped his cock, stroking it a few times before guiding it to your folds. He brushed the head of his cock up and down your cunt, teasing it out. He pressed his forehead against yours.

“You really mean it, right? You want me?” he asked desperately.

“Yes --” Before another word could escape your lips, he entered you. His whole body shivered. He thrust the tip of his head in, easing in and out until he was fully sheathed inside of you. You moaned as the stretch burned in pleasure and pain.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he moaned, the pace he had set was blistering. You gripped his shoulders to keep yourself anchored as he hammered into you. “You’re so tight, so tight fuuuck me.”

He thrust over and over, using the heel of his hand to keep working at your clit. You scratched your hands down his back as his pumps kept hitting the perfect spot. It was torturous pleasure as he kept working up and down your clit, not giving you a moment of respite.

You came again, your body seizing up as you cried out and then falling limp, boneless back down to the bed. Bucky grabbed your hips, pulling your lower body off the bed as he raced for his own release. The slapping sounds of your bodies filled the room along with his deep, gutural breaths.

“Yes, yes, you’re mine, you’re mine, I finally have you, finally, finally…” he babbled as he slowed his pace as he fucked out his climax.

XXX

You curled next to Bucky in the big fluffy guest bed. Both of you were happily satisfied. All thoughts of strangers on the phone were gone from your head. Now it was filled with what just happened.

Hooking up with Bucky? You’d never considered it before. You weren’t sure why, he was so very cute, you thought as you gazed at his face. His eyes were dreamily staring back at you, that big smile had not left his face yet.

“So if you want to like, hang out, I have snacks and movies. We can go curl up on the couch and just completely let our brains rot.” You traced tiny circles on his chest, feeling pretty confident he’d want to stick around.

“I’d be down for a little romcom night, as long as you’re there.” He affectionately tapped your nose.

“Good because that's all I’ve got!”

The two of you got back into a semblance of your outfits, you pulled your nightgown back on, and Bucky pulled on his boxers and the white undershirt he was wearing. You snagged his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. He hummed his approval and kissed you on the cheek.

You grabbed him by the hand and pulled him along down the stairs.

“You can go grab the popcorn, I’ll put the tapes in.” You directed Bucky towards the kitchen as you made your way towards the living room.

You pass the chairs jammed in front of the doors, and you remember your panic.

You shuddered--what a mean prank to pull. What kind of psycho talks to people like that?

You slipped your arms into Bucky's jacket to wrap yourself in it. It smelled sharp and sweet from his body wash and cologne blending together. You stuck your hands in the pockets, only to feel something heavy and tube shaped. You pulled it out, curious, turning it over in your hands a few times to investigate.

It was a long cylindrical looking microphone. You assumed it was some sort of film equipment, but why would Bucky bring that along?

“Hello?” You spoke into the mic. But instead of your own voice, the same distorted, crackling voice from the phone came out.

You dropped it. It was like a hot iron in your hand.

You realized Bucky must have heard you too. Your head snapped towards the kitchen. He was walking slowly towards you, a huge chef’s knife from the kitchen was now in his hands.

“Bucky what the hell is this?” You asked, slowly backing away from him.

“I…can explain.” His grip on the knife tightened and he raised his hands in the air as if in surender, never slowing his pace towards you.

“No, I think you need to leave.” You covered your body with your arms, trying not to trip over the furniture.

“No, no, no you’re misunderstanding --” He was getting closer to you, he reached his arms out to try and grab you.

“Leave me alone!” You screamed out as you broke into a run. You made a mad dash to the front door. Bucky was close behind you.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” He cried out as you fumbled with all the locks. Your hands were shaking, you tried to remove the chain from the door but it wasn’t moving fast enough.

Bucky's arm wrapped around your waist and yanked your body into his. His hard bulge poked at your ass.

“No!!” you cried out as you started to thrash around. You quickly stilled as the sharp point of the knife began to dig into your throat.

“Let’s calm down ok. I think you’re getting too worked up again.”

“B-Bucky, just say that it’s a prank. This was all a big prank. I won’t tell anyone. Just put the knife down please.” You try desperately to reason with him. He lets out an unamused grunt.

He began to drag you away from the door. You strained your neck as far as you could to keep the pressure from the knife as minimal as possible.

“You weren’t supposed to find out. Now it’s all ruined. Fuck. Fuuuck!” He growled. Clearly enraged he started to grapple you down to the floor.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You whimpered, tears oozing from the corners of your eyes. Rolling down your cheeks in huge streaks.

“You don’t get it. You never noticed me. All I wanted was for you to notice me. I just had to grease the wheels a little bit, put on a show to make you see…that I’m the guy for you.” He looked crazed. He moved the knife from your neck to your cheek. He caressed it against your cheeks like a lover's hand.

“Bucky please…put down the knife.”

“You’re misunderstanding me, you’re trying to run away! That’s why I have the knife because you need to listen to me. You always listen to the guy with the biggest tool in the room huh? You thought I was Tony. Does he call you up at night a lot or something? Huh?!”

You were just whimpering as he ranted above you. The blunt side of the knife was pressed against your cheek, the shiny metal reflecting into your eyes.

“Well you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” The look in Bucky’s eyes was primal, like he was no longer a man. The charming smile from before was now warped and too large, his lips curling to show his teeth and gums.

“You’re scaring me. Please don’t hurt me!”

“Hurt you? I would never.” He said, not moving the knife from your face. “I’m your boyfriend now. And I’m not going to let anything happen to you again.”

He brought the knife down from your cheek slowly, the sharp tip dragging down your neck. He began to slice the top button off your nightgown.

“Now, you made such beautiful noises for me before. Let me hear you scream, Pumpkin.”

#horrormoviehoeathon #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #scream au #dark!bucky #dark!bucky x reader #yandere bucky barnes #let me hear you scream #halloween fics #witchywithwhiskey #one shot #marvel fanfiction #buck barnes fanfic #ghostface bucky barnes #banner by cafekitsune

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 1 year

Text

Mistake

Pairing. Dark Bucky Barnes x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Rule number one in your relation - never try to leave Bucky.

WARNINGS: Violence; Toxic Relationship.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

His metal fingers squeeze hard against your throat, his hold unwavering even with your nails weakly clawing at him. Your eyes roll, your body desperate for air.

Bucky clicks his tongue, faking a pout.

“Aw, my baby can’t breathe?” he mocks you, but you can’t bring yourself to care about his tone. Not when your lungs are painfully burning, strength leaving your body at an alarming pace.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before trying to rat out on me, babe. I don’t appreciate my girl being sneaky around my back.” he growls, all hints of mockery now gone.

His grip tightens and you cough, the lack of air hitting cryptic levels as you start to hyperventilate.

Bucky reaches closer, nuzzling your nose with his in an almost endearing gesture, one that contrasts with the evil position he has you in.

“Never again, okay? You’re not pulling that type of shit ever again, understood?” his voice is dead serious, ignoring how you struggle. You can barely say a word but Bucky somehow understands your submission, finally releasing you.

You fall on the ground with your body completely limp, your throat burning as precious air finally fills it.

“You better not repeat this again.” he orders, darkness looming over his face as he looks at you.

“Cause next time, you won’t get off the hook so easily.”

1K notes · View notes

timidpumpkin · 1 year

Note

Can you do a stucky little reader? She wakes up sick ( flu symptoms) and they take care of her. Angst and fluff with cute nicknames. 🥺🥺❤️❤️

You had me at angst…and fluff…and cute nicknames…okay you had me at the whole thing🙈🙈💞💞heheh i hope you like it!! I set it in little light universe🫶🫶❤️💙❤️💙

(pictures are not my own)

More Than Anything (Stucky x reader)

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Warnings/tags: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Female reader, Implied forced age regression, Sick reader, Meanie bucky, Implied reader has small hands in comparison because Stucky is gigantic (fact), Angst, Fluff, Comfort. Reader baby-talks as well, Lots o' cute nicknames.

Word count: 4.2k

It hurts.

“Mornin’ Doll,” Bucky says after flipping your lights on. The illumination now burning your vision makes you pull the covers over your head as you flip over, hiding from the bright room. You hear him making his way to your bedside. The mattress beneath dips you sideways a bit as he sits beside your dormant form.

“Come on now, time to get up.” he pulls lightly at the duvet covering you. He can tell you’re gripping it with all you can. Though he could easily unveil you, he decides against it, knowing that ripping the blanket from your delicately curled-up fingers might hurt them. Instead, he leans his body over yours, one hand placed on the other side of your hip as he hovers above you. He dips his head close to where yours is concealed by the warm blanket. “Don’t make me carry you down there,” he whispers teasingly, figuring it’s likely what you’re hoping for.

Instead, you only groan in response, mumbling something about getting a little more sleep. It wasn’t an uncommon request from you, and Bucky knew how much babies needed their sleep. Usually, he would let it slide, loving how adorable you look in dreamland, but he can’t. Not this time.

It was almost noon. He peers around your room. It’s not the cleanest, but it looks pristine compared to the current state of your playroom. He had asked you yesterday to clean it, noticing the myriad of toys and their respective accessories scattered across the carpeted floor.

You, preoccupied with dressing your doll so she could ‘go on vacation,’ promised him you’d do it after dinner. Bucky apprehensively agreed, and even let you fall through on your assigned chore after you quickly fell asleep on the couch, much before your usual bedtime. Figuring you played your little heart out, he carried you upstairs and told himself to remind you in the morning.

Having already slept almost twelve hours, he knows if he lets your slumber last any longer, you’ll never sleep tonight. He sighs.

“I know you want more babygirl, but Dada already made breakfast and lunch. You need to come eat,” he waits a few moments for you to respond, but you don’t let out a sound or groan. “I'm serious, Doll, time to get up,” he states, standing up, hoping it’ll prompt you to follow. You peel your sheets back to look at him.

“Daddy…” you whine, unsure of what you're asking for. All you knew is that it hurt. Everything. It wasn’t just that the lights were too bright. It wasn't just that you were sleepy. Your whole body felt…bad. Just bad. You couldn’t exactly explain it, but you did know that moving didn’t seem like it would help.

Bucky only looks at you, unsatisfied. You try sitting up, which you find is more difficult than it should have been. Once you’re upright, you feel pressure in your head. Your cheeks and forehead feel as if there's unwanted gunk smooshed inside. It makes you want to lie back down immediately.

“m’ tired daddy,” you say groggily.

“That’s ‘cause you slept so much,” Bucky knew messing with your established sleep pattern too much would likely make you feel more cranky than it seemed you already were. So, as much as he knew you didn’t want to, he believed it would be for the best to make you get up.

As you start to get out of bed, it feels as though the air is made of thick jello with every movement you make.

“Daddyyy…ughhhh” you groan unhappily at him, and kick at your sheets frustrated that you’re being forced to move.

Bucky’s eyes narrow at your agitated action, never liking that kind of behavior from you.

“Don’t be that way, Doll. it’s too early for that,” he warns.

“Mmm,” you groan again. “noo, don’t wanna, wanna sleep!” you say crankily, flopping back down on the bed again with your arms crossed to prove your point. That point being: you. did. not. want. to. move.

Bucky rolls his eyes, and takes a deep breath, debating internally on how to approach your grouchiness. He decides, only since it’s so early—for you—that he’ll go easy on you, hoping this attitude will fade as you wake up.

“No more sleep, but,” he leans down closer to you, “if you promise to be a good girl all day, Daddy will carry you down there.” he offers as a compromise.

Truthfully, you’d still rather lay in bed, but you knew you had to do what Daddy asked. More so, you didn’t want him to be upset with you, so you nod your head in agreement.

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Okay daddy, what?” he questions.

“I-i’ll be good,” you say, having a hard time remembering what he asked. He slides his hands under you and begins to pick you up. Once you’re in his hold, you quickly let your head fall to his shoulder, wishing you could now sleep there instead.

“And you’ll eat your breakfast this morning?” he asks into your heavy head. You nod into his neck and mumble a ‘yes daddy’ assentingly.

Once he places you in your chair downstairs, Steve greets you with a bright smile, and a kiss to your forehead after setting down your food. When he does, he notices how hot your skin feels against his.

“You feel warm angel, you feel okay, babygirl?” he asks, gently checking the temperature of your cheeks with the back of his hand.

“Oh, she just got up, she’s probably still warm from sleep,” Bucky answers before you get the chance to speak. “Somebody really didn’t want to get up this morning,” he pokes.

“Ohh,” Steve coos, “you still sleepy, babygirl?” he asks. You shake your head weakly, eyes drifting closed. You think about telling him how bad you feel, but you don’t really have the energy to try to explain it.

Instead, you decide to focus on eating, hoping the sooner you finish, the quicker you can return to resting. However, the very first swallow of your otherwise pleasant meal scratches at your throat. You still try to get some down, thinking the pain will go away if you keep trying. When it becomes evident that won't be the case, you poke at your plate and begin to speak up.

“Daddy, m’done,” you push your plate away, “my thro-”

“Uh-uh, a few more bites,” Bucky pushes the plate back in front of you, knowing you’ll never feel more awake with an empty stomach. “And after you finish, you can go clean your playroom,” You look at him puzzled.

“But-”

“No buts. I already asked you to do it yesterday,” he explains, not looking up from whatever he happened to be reading at the table with you. Your face twists in confusion for a few moments before you remember how tired you felt last night. Truthfully, the fatigue was all your body could focus on, making you completely forget about the room.

“But daddy-”

“What did I just say?” he looks up at you.

“I’m tired!” you snap at him, voice raised high and whiney as you bemoan at him. You cross your arms and huff grumpily back into the chair.

“I don’t care if you’re tired. Do what Daddy says, or you can say goodbye to your playroom for the next week” he threatens. Not wanting to get out of bed was one thing, but directly disobeying him with that attitude was another.

Still, you only groan angrily in response, not feeling like you could do anything right now.

“Ugh!” you flop your head down on the table dramatically, hiding between your arms. Bucky lets your stew there for a moment before speaking up.

“Are you gonna finish eating or not?” He asks eventually, eerily calm. You remain silent, unsure of what to say. “Fine, you can go clean your room now,” You look up to him at that, suddenly confused and disoriented. Surely your daddy should know how bad you feel.

“But Daddy! I don't wanna now! I don't feel g-”

“Did I ask if you wanted to? I don’t care if you don't feel like it. Now. Or no playroom for a month.” your jaw drops, your muddled brain beyond baffled on why he’s being so harsh. Still, you know he means it. It wasn’t outside his usual punishment by any means. You almost think you should consider yourself lucky he hasn’t bent you over his knee already with how you’re fighting him.

Feeling defeated, you drag your body out of your chair. Before you can go, he grabs your arm with a warning.

“and quit with the attitude.”

“Yes, Daddy” you squeak lamentably, noticing how your throat hurts as you speak.

You drag your feet upstairs, physically resisting your legs from stomping as you go. Anger and confusion mix together in you as you think about what he said. You didn’t want to be grounded from your playroom. So many of your favorite things were in there. And, again, more importantly, you didn't want to make daddy upset with you. You never liked it when he was. You always tried so hard to be a good girl for them. But right now, it was so hard. In actuality, what you wanted more than anything was for him to cuddle with you. You felt Daddy and Dada could always make you feel better. No matter what, you were convinced your Daddies loving embrace could cure you from any ailment.

Maybe, you think, if you just cleaned your room like a good girl, you could ask to cuddle with him after.

You try your hardest to ignore the pain that ignites at every move you make, but truthfully, you're already abnormally out of breath just from your quick walk up the stairs. The room feels uncomfortably chilly against your skin.

After you get a small portion of the floor cleared, you decide to take a little break. You practically collapse beneath yourself, curling underneath the cozy play tent filled with askew fluffy pillows and dismayed blankets. You shut your eyes and tell yourself you’ll only rest for a few minutes…

“Angel?” Steve's voice echoes back at him from the loft balcony where you should easily be able to pick up his voice. He can’t hear you moving around. “Are you sure she’s in there?” he asks Bucky.

“She better. It’s where I told her to be.” he retorts disdainfully, hoping you're not again disobeying him by being somewhere else.

Steve stills himself, and listens closely, he can tell you’re there, but your breathing doesn’t sound normal.

Concerned, he makes his way upstairs. Bucky follows, recognizing Steve’s ‘something’s wrong’ face.

Steve panics for a brief moment when he enters the empty but disarrayed room. Then he spots you. Your delicate form hidden amongst haphazardly arranged fabrics. He approaches you slowly, not wanting to startle you.

He kneels down, overshadowing you as he gently caresses your cheek to wake you.

“Babygirl?” he calls softly. Puffs of hot air escape your mouth. Labored breathing is all he can hear. All they can both hear.

“Babygirl,” he calls again, shaking you slightly. To his relief, your eyes slowly open. They look sunken, tired, and devoid of their usual playful sparkle.

“Dada…?” you question quietly. “m’cold” your murmur softly, eyes begging to be closed again.

You’re not cold though. Not to Steve. You feel a million degrees too hot under his touch.

“Babygirl…” he says for the third time, this time preparing to move you. “Dada’s gonna pick you up okay?” he explains, remaining calm so as to not worry you. “We're gonna go downstairs,” you feel limp in his arms, no different than if you were deep in sleep. But you are certainly awake, even if barely. He mumbles something to Bucky you don't make out, but his tone alone tells you he’s not happy.

Once you’re downstairs, he sets you on the kitchen counter. You don’t let go of him though, your body weight is leaned almost fully onto his.

“Can you sit up for me, babygirl?” he asks encouragingly, but gently. “Daddy and I are gonna check you out okay?” you groan a bit, still just feeling tired.

“Here,” Bucky speaks up softly, snaking his arms around you, and taking Steve’s place in front of you. As you’re shifted from one body’s hold to another, it wakens you a bit. You almost go back to leaning fully onto his chest when you realize who’s holding you.

“Daddy?” you shift back a little to look up at him. One hand of his is resting at your hip, the other helping support the rest of your body.

“Hey, babydoll…” he says softly, voice drifting, and stomach sinking as he sees how sick you look.

He almost wishes he could somehow shut his hearing out. Your heartbeat is quicker than usual. He knew it better than his own. How it sounded while you slept, when you’d play, how it picks up when you laugh, giggling for breath and telling him ‘daddy, stop it tickles’ with the brightest grin lighting up your face. Now…now he can’t stand it. It’s thumping too fast. Faster than it should be for when his little girl hasn’t moved an inch herself.

Why didn’t he notice it before? He thinks back to how heavily you held onto him when he carried you this morning. How quickly he was to interrupt you. He realizes you probably tried to tell him. And he didn’t listen. Even worse, he made you clean. Guilt seeps deep into his guts as he remembers how funny your voice sounded today.

“Daddy,” you break him from his thoughts, he sees tears beginning to form in your doleful eyes. “Daddy m’sorry,” you breathe in sharply, beginning to cry “m’sorry didn't f-finish-i just-i gots so tireds daddy I’m-I'm sorry,” you sob pathetically, knowing you’ve disappointed him.

Bucky’s face falls.

All you had to do was one simple thing, and you couldn't even do that right. You weren’t being a good girl by disobeying him like that. Even if you felt bad, you feel you should have tried harder.

“Doll, no-” you cry sorries to him more, your own hands reaching to cover your shameful face. He catches them before you do, gently taking them into his and guiding them around his neck for you so you can be more level with his gaze. “Babydoll, look at daddy,” He pulls you, hands drawing you closer so he’s flush with you in between your legs. Needing to feel your skin, his right hand tenderly guides your face to look at him. “I’m not upset with you. Daddy’s not upset with you,” he reassures, silently pleading for you not to cry.

“But-but-I didn’t cleans-I-I just-I-I not good girl,” you sob miserably at the admission, never wanting to be bad for him.

“My little girl, my sweet girl, no, please no” he assures, hating how skewed shut your eyes are. “That’s not true, Doll, it’s just not. Daddy…” he carefully wipes at the wet tears on your cheek, “Daddy should have known.” he admits shamefully. You finally blink your eyes open at him, a timidly unsure expression written on your face. “I should have known. You...you tried to tell daddy huh?” he takes one of your hands and gives it soft kisses.

“N-n’your not mad at me?” you sniffle as your cries begin to slow down.

“No, Doll, never.” he couldn’t be, never for something like this. His mouth opens again, he wants to tell you how sorry he is. He’s the one who should be, but he only finds his own tongue twisted, unsure of how to fully express his remorse. Before he has time to puzzle the words together, Steve interrupts, thermometer in hand.

“Open wide, babygirl,” you do as he says. “tongue up,” he mimics the motion for you. The cold metal feels uncomfortable in your mouth. They must know this as Bucky squeezes your hand soothingly, and Steve tells you ‘just a little longer’ with a sympathetic gaze as he holds your jaw with the hand that’s not keeping the thermometer in place.

When it beeps, Steve removes it and frowns when he reads the displayed numbers.

“Can you tell us what hurts, princess?” Steve asks. You point your hand towards your neck. “Your throat?” he confirms, and you nod your head. “What else babygirl?” you then squeeze your eyes together, remembering how squished your brain feels.

“Head,” you mumble quietly, before crossing and rubbing your arms together in discomfort. “Everything.”

“Your body hurts? Feels sore?” He asks. You nod your head weakly at him, closing your eyes and wishing you could be laying down right now. Even just sitting somewhat upright felt hard at the moment.

“Okay babygirl, why don’t you let Daddy take you to the bedroom,” Steve suggests. “I’ll be there in just a minute.” he smiles at you comfortingly, before placing a kiss on your forehead with his hand cradling the back of your head.

“m’I sick?” you ask Bucky as he carries you to their room.

“Yeah, but it’s okay, Dada and I will help you feel better,” he carefully sets you on their large bed.

It's soft. Yours is soft too, but Daddies always felt so much softer for some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to sleep next to your favorite people. He arranges the pillows and blankets around you to make you more comfortable, then slides next to you. You rest your head on his chest, almost instantly falling asleep again.

Some time passes, particularly how much time is beyond you. All you knew in this moment, is how comfy Daddy felt.

After some time, Steve’s voice brings you back to reality. He instructs you to sit more upright so he can give you medicine.

The odd color liquid he brings toward you makes you cringe. You can tell just from looks how bitter and unpleasant it will taste. You recoil into bucky, small hands gripping at the buttons of his shirt as you whine.

“Daddyyy…” you tug on Bucky's shirt more, trying to force your head into his flannel to hide from Steve and his icky medicine, practically begging Bucky to not make Steve give it to you.

“Doll,” Bucky chuckles a bit at your attempt to hide inside his outer shirt. He still holds you close, hands supporting you on your bottom as you have now completely crawled on top of him.

“Angel…you know I can still see you…right?” Steve teases.

“No you can’ts…m’not here” you proclaim, muffled into Bucky’s chest.

“The sooner you take it, the sooner it will be over, come on princess.” Steve encourages. You’re still not convinced and instead mumble out one word: ‘pill.’

For a second, Steve isn’t sure if he understood you correctly before his lips tighten with a displeased look on his face.

You’ve had this conversation before. He thought surely by now you understood it, but he figured since you’re sick, it might be hard for your little head to remember.

“Sweet girl, babies can’t take pills, you know that.” Steve explains patiently. You did know that. It was early on when Steve refused to let you take any medication you needed through a pill. It didn't matter what you needed, he was always able to find a way to get a liquid version of it from Uncle Bruce. Or, as you like to think, a much yuckier version of it.

Still, you groan in disagreement, not wanting to taste something that bad, let alone when your throat hurt as much as it did.

“Doll,” Bucky speaks up. “I know you don’t want to, but it’ll make you feel so much better.”

You shake your head against his chest, disagreeing with both of your daddies now.

“it’s yucky dough daddy,” you whine.

“I know it’s yucky, babydoll,” Bucky pats at your back comfortingly while he thinks. He knows how hard this is for you, especially when you feel so bad. “Hey,” he peels you back from him a bit, unburying you from his shirt as he has an idea. “Look,” he instructs, “Here,” he takes the small cap of medicine from Steve’s hands and–to your horror–throws it back in his mouth. You look at him in horror as the icky liquid disappears from the cap into Bucky's mouth. You stare at him wildly.

Daddy’s crazy, you think.

“There. See? Daddy took it. It’s not so bad.” Bucky says nonchalantly in an attempt to convenience you. He hands the empty cap back to Steve so he can refill it. Steve shares your look of bewilderment, before you can't help but break out a smile at his action.

“Daddy,” you giggle at him.

“What?” He fakes surprise. “Daddy took it, so you can too.” he assures happily, taking the now filled-again cap from Steve. Still, you recoil from it a bit.

“Yeah…” you look between him and the medicine suspiciously. “but daddy also drinks other yucky stuffs,” you defend, referring to the strong-smelling caramel-colored stuff he likes to drink sometimes. Daddy never lets you have that.

Bucky chuckles a bit when he realizes what you meant.

“Okay, true…and little baby definitely can’t have that stuff…” he says pointedly. “but this,” he gestures the cap towards you. “you have to take.” You look between him and Steve warily.

“Please angel, I know you can do it. Do it for Daddy and Dada princess,” Steve encourages. You agree this time, mentally pepping yourself up and telling yourself if daddy could do it, so could you.

You scrunch your eyes closed as Bucky brings it closer to your lips. You feel Steve’s hands reach down to hold your face. One hand holding your jaw up firmly, with the other around the back of your head. This way, you aren't able to move should you change your mind. Steve knew you’d be a good girl and take it, but he always had to be sure just in case–not unlike what has happened before–you decide to spit it out.

When it hits your tongue, it’s just as yucky as you had imagined. Maybe even worse. Instinctively, your face contorts in displeasure as you squirm around from the gross sensation.

Steve and Bucky hold you firmly in place the whole time and instruct you to swallow.

Once you do, Steve asks you to open your mouth for him, just to make sure you really swallowed it all.

“Good girl, my brave little girl. I knew you could do it.” Steve praises you. “Dada’s so proud of you.” he beams at you, making you smile.

“Daddy proud too?” you ask shyly to Bucky.

“Super proud doll. The proudest of them all.” he winks at you, making you giggle a little bit, but it tickles your throat, causing you to start having a coughing fit.

Bucky brings a sippy on their nightstand to your lips and lets you drink some cold water. It helps calm your throat.

Steve asks if there’s anything else you want right now. You ask for some juice in your favorite sippy, and he lets you know he’ll bring it after he’s done making some soup for you.

Bucky gets out of the bed, making you confused. You promptly grab at his hands.

“Where going?” you look up to him, eyes big and sad.

“I was just gonna go help Dada, why don’t you get some rest, Doll?” He says, knowing it’s what you need most right now. To his surprise though, you don’t let go.

“Nooo,” you say, tugging feebly at his hands. “Stay…wanna…can…cuddle daddy?” you ask bashfully, suddenly feeling shy.

Bucky’s eyes turn soft. Soft. Just like his little girl. Soft. Like how your voice always sounded. Soft. Something, an emotion, a feeling, a sensation, that only you made him experience.

Even after he made you clean your playroom, even after he snapped at you and didn’t listen, you still asked in your softest voice, doleful eyes, and small grabby hands if he would cuddle with you. Sometimes–he’s not sure what he did to deserve you.

“Of course, princess,” he climbs back into the bed with you and you grin happily as you curl yourself around him just like before. He suggests again that you to get some rest, but that too comes with protest.

“Wanna watch ‘toons wif Daddy…can we’s?” you ask. Bucky smiles to himself and kisses your head. Even though he knows you’ll likely fall fast asleep no more than five minutes into it, there’s nothing more he’d like more than watch shows with his little girl

He turns on your favorite show and makes sure you’re perfectly comfortable, tucked around him and under blankets.

“Doll?” he whispers softly after a few minutes. To his surprise, you’re still awake. You mumble a questioning ‘hmm?’ he takes a few seconds to respond, trying to gather the words correctly for you. He breathes in.

“I’m sorry Daddy didn’t listen earlier,” he admits, lips ghosting the top of your head, before placing a kiss there. “I should have listened.”

“It’s okies Daddy,” you hum sleepily into his chest. It wasn’t okay. He knew that. But you—you and your never-ending soft and kind heart—forgave him. And that’s all that mattered to him. He truly was more than lucky to have a little girl like you.

“I love you Daddy,” you squeeze him softly, voice quiet. And even though he can’t see you, he knows you're smiling when you say it.

“I love you, Doll.” more than anything.

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steves-sub · 11 months

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Prologue

Summary: Steve comes up with an idea

Warning(s): Dark!Team Cap (Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff), MINOR DNI, Drinking, Implied non-con, and kidnapping.

WC: 312 (I promise these will be longer)

Taglist; @marvel-fandom23

Since the events in Germany, Steve Rogers has been hiding out in the cabin with Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, and Wanda Maximoff. On the run from the law, they only had each other to rely on. Since then, nothing has happened with his sexual life. Due to the fact that everyone there was a Dom, he couldn't turn to his teammates for assistance. So while sitting with the rest of the team outside, Steve decided to propose an idea.

"So, I've been thinking recently," he said to the group of people around him. “Anyone else been extremely horny?” He questioned as he took a sip of his beer. In response, Bucky offered a chuckle, "If you are proposing what I think you are, I’m out.” Sam agreed, "No way." Steve realized his mistake and stopped them. "Oh no, not like that.”

“So what are you thinking then, Captain?” Natasha asked as she crossed her legs. “Look, we've been stuck in the cabin for a while. It doesn't seem like we're getting out anytime soon. So," he paused, "how about bringing someone in to help us?" Wanda looked at him with a questioning face, “Like a stripper?” He laughed at her answer with a smirk. “I was thinking of a more permanent solution.”

Suddenly, the only sound they heard was the cackling of the fire they sat around. Steve knew this was a big proposition. Bucky was the first to speak. “If we do it, how do we go about it?” He spoke as he twisted the top off the beer with his metal arm. “We can figure that out together, but I think that we all need to meet the person before we take them,” Steve responded. “Sounds like you already have someone in mind,” Natasha smirked.

Steve let out an exhale, “I got the perfect little sunflower for us.”

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS FOR THIS SERIES!! Would love input

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nickfowlerrr · 10 months

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whatever he wants

pairing: darkish!bucky barnes x (gray?)curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut. tiny hint of voyeurism. uhhh this isn’t really dark but it’s not not dark either… so idk. if there’s something i’m missing pls lmk.

words: 3.4k

notes: smutty little part two to IOU. hope you guys like it. thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, feedback and comments are more than welcome and so appreciated. please leave your thoughts, let me know what you think. 🖤

You can’t get up.

You’ve tried three times now, and nothing. The heavy metal arm slung around your waist just. won’t. budge.

You’re about to elbow him in the ribs, the heat of his body and the hot summer air is suffocating and you need to get up - you need to breathe.

One more try and if he doesn’t move, you’re gonna make him.

You roll onto your front and his arm drops onto your back, still keeping you from leaving the bed.

You writhe and huff in annoyance, turning your face to look at him.

He’s still sleeping. Still deceptively beautiful.

You stop your wiggling for a moment as you take him in. His pouty lips, his unfairly long lashes that brush just against his cheekbones, the stubble that’s lining his perfectly sculpted jaw, and his unruly bedhead.. He looks peaceful like this. Nice. So nice, you’d never believe he could be such an absolute dick so much of the time.

You stare a bit longer, wanting to commit the moment, how beautiful and content he looks right now, to memory.

You take a deep breath and try to roll back over, but the weight of his arm makes it no easy feat.

“Bucky,” you whisper yell, not wanting your voice to carry through the rest of the cabin.

You’re sure you’re the only one awake right now; well aside from Steve.

His leaving for his morning run was what had woken you up to begin with. You’ve been laying here for fifteen minutes and you needed to get up now, but Bucky still didn’t move.

You roll your eyes and exhale heavily.

If you punch him, he’ll wake up, but he’ll be pissed. And you don’t think you wanna start your morning off dealing with his attitude.

You swear Bucky Barnes might just be the most dramatic man you’ve ever met.

If one thought he was grumpy normally, they’d be entirely unprepared for him when he was woken up by anything or anyone other than himself or his alarm.

With the one exception of you, of course. More accurately: you working his cock.

Whether it was your hand, your mouth, your cunt, what have you - it was a surefire way to make sure he woke up on the right side of the bed.

But you really aren’t in the mood right now.

Instead, you begin to wiggle under his arm again, worming your way down the bed until finally, blessedly, you get free.

You exhale with a breathy laugh as you sit up on your haunches before looking over to Bucky again.

You can tell already that your absence from where he expects you to be beside him is disturbing him. His brows furrow and then his hand is searching for you among the mess of sheets.

You watch curiously as he pats around the bed before he finally blinks open his eyes and meets your gaze.

He scowls when he recognizes you sitting up across from him.

“Don’t start,” you say as you get off the bed, “in fact, don’t say a word. Just go back to sleep, princess.”

He growls, not nearly as loud as you know he’d like, with sleep still clinging to him.

“What the fuck did I say about you calling me princess,” he gruffs.

“Said not to, if I’m not mistaken. But I like doing it, so I’m not gonna stop.”

“Til I make you,” he vaguely threatens, his voice getting darker and more clear as he wakes up fully.

“Like to see you try,” you taunt as you make your way into the bathroom.

Bucky doesn’t scare you so much anymore. Though you’ve had to learn when to stop pushing. You’ve gotten pretty damn good at reading him. Knowing when he’s entirely serious and at his limit is something you can spot nearly right away now. Since that first night all those months ago, the only times you ignore the warnings are when you’re wanting what he’d given you the first time he had you. Something more rough than normal from him. Something purely carnal. Bordering on truly depraved.. And god, he’s never failed to deliver.

You know you’ve become complicit in this whole arrangement, but you’re starting to care less and less. What can you say? A powerful, beefy, hot as hell super soldier wants you. Chose you. He’s possessively protective over you, and problematic as that can be, you find it ridiculously attractive. And the sex if fucking amazing.

Sure, he can be a dick, but he’s been less of a dick to you. And you quite enjoy the way he now directs his annoyance and anger at those he knows irk you, too.

It's not like you don't fight or argue anymore, but it's almost always resolved quite.. nicely. Who are you to complain about that?

And god, the perks being with Bucky has come with.

You never really fed into the whole “fuck your way to the top” thing, but hey, here you were.

Getting better missions, nicer gear, getting more involved with the big leagues. And though you wouldn’t say it aloud, Bucky always having your back - during missions, in meetings, coming to your defense when someone would question your input - it was nice. Sometimes it was like he was your own personal guard dog.

And you loved the way people would shrink in on themselves, making themselves sparse when you and Bucky were around. You'd never admit it, but you guys were definitely a power couple around the tower. And you were thriving.

The attention, the opportunities, the sex. If you hadn't been blackmailed into this whole thing, you wouldn't have a solitary complaint.

You’re spitting out toothpaste and putting your toothbrush away as Bucky barges into the bathroom. You look up from the sink and shoot him an annoyed glance at the unnecessary disturbance.

“Really?” you ask as he grabs his own toothbrush from its spot.

“What?” he says. You roll your eyes and brush past him to start getting dressed.

“Put on your swimsuit,” he orders as he pauses his brushing to speak.

“Why?” you’re already annoyed knowing the answer. You guys have been here on this little summer getaway for two days now, both of which you’ve successfully managed to avoid getting in the water.

It wasn’t that you were scared or couldn’t swim, no, it was nothing like that.

It was that goddamn bathing suit.

The only bathing suit you had, thanks to Bucky who went into your bags after you’d finished packing and took your other two options out.

You’d swear it was skimpier than some of your lingerie.

“We’re going swimming,” he smirks, eyeing you hungrily.

You turn with another roll of your eyes and head to the drawer that holds your swimming wear. You throw Bucky’s trunks on the bed without care and grab your suit without looking at it.

You lean in the doorway of the bathroom as Bucky washes his face off, scowling.

“Can’t we get breakfast first?”

“You can get breakfast while wearing it.”

“You get off on humiliating me, that’s it, isn’t it?”

He barks a laugh as he turns to face you, “You think this is me trying to humiliate you?”

You don’t respond as you keep your face stoic. He approaches and his large hands come around your neck, cradling the back of your head as he pulls your face closer to his. He crashes his lips to yours, the minty feel still lingering as he licks into your mouth, pushing you against the wall as he backs you up, his hands keeping your head from hitting it. You return his fervent kiss, your hands coming up to hold his forearms, despite your annoyance before he pulls away suddenly and leaves you wanting.

You lick your lips as you catch your breath and meet his eye.

“If I wanted to humiliate you, sweetheart, you’d know.”

—

When you’re both done getting ready for the day, you having taken your sweet time to get into the bathing suit, you slowly open the bathroom door you had shut and locked behind you nearly fifteen minutes ago.

You’re overly aware of your belly and the jiggle of your ass and thighs with each step you take.

You hate this swimsuit and you swear you’d burn it if you weren’t sure he’d take you skinny dipping should it mysteriously disappear.

The growl that emanates from Bucky when he sees you genuinely startles you and when his big hands grab you by the waist, you feel that familiar heat growing deep within you.

His hands move down to grab your ass, kneading the ample flesh he finds there as you push against him.

Your breasts are nearly spilling out of the too small cups and though the band of the thong-like bottoms can be pulled to sit high on your hips, it really does nothing to hide or cover your stomach the way you’d like. And the tropical blue color brings too much attention.

It’s not that you’re self conscious, though you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit, it’s just way too revealing for you. You hate that everyone will get to see parts of you you don’t like showing. You feel like you’re giving away parts of your privacy.

But you know Bucky doesn’t care.

As long as he’s the only one who gets to touch you, he’d happily let the world feast their eyes on you like this, show them what they’ll never have.

“This is ridiculous,” you complain for the tenth time.

“You look fuckin’ sexy,” he purrs, letting his hands run back up your body.

“Ugh,” you groan as you push him again, swiping your towel off the bed and slipping on your slides as you pass him and leave the room.

You can feel his eyes on you as he follows behind, his gaze seemingly glued to your body.

You walk downstairs quietly, still unsurprised to find no one else up. Everyone else had stayed up well into the early hours of the morning last night, drinking and chatting, playing stupid games. You and Bucky had been taking part until around midnight when he decided he was done keeping his hands to himself. He took you back to your room upstairs where you both stayed the rest of the night while the party continued on downstairs. You were grateful the loud chatting seemed to drown out your and Bucky’s moans.

You threw your things in an empty bag Nat had left on the table and then followed Bucky into the kitchen to make a quick breakfast.

You were hoping you could get out and into the lake before anyone could see you, so you hurriedly toasted some bread and sliced an avocado while Bucky made eggs. You threw everything together on a paper plate, leaving the used pan on the stove and had Bucky get water while you seasoned the food.

You had the plate in one hand and your bag in the other as Bucky carried the cooler with drinks out behind you.

It was only nine and yet the heat was already sweltering.

The perks of being at a lake house, though, is you don’t have to go far to get to the lake.

The setup from yesterday and the day before was still there as you set your stuff down in one of the big wooden loungers and then put the food down on the long table. The dock was just behind and to the right of you as you sat on the wooden bench attached to the table.

Bucky set the cooler down at the end of the table before taking a seat across from you on the opposite bench.

“You were quick to come out here.”

“Yeah, I’m praying no one sees me in this atrocity,” you say as you pick up your toast and take a bite.

He scoffs before grabbing his own piece.

You both eat fairly quickly, having been hungry from your late night activities, and soon you’re watching as Bucky strips off his tank top.

He grabs your towels and the sunscreen, handing the bottle to you and expecting you to follow him as he walks onto the dock.

You do so after taking another drink of your water and forcing yourself up.

He sits on the edge of the dock, his legs in the clear blue water as he waits for you, the towels thrown down haphazardly, ready for you to use them when you’re done swimming.

You move to sit behind him, opening the bottle and squeezing some sunscreen into your hands.

You rub it between your hands for a second before you start to apply it to Bucky’s back.

More and more until you’ve got him covered, massaging his tense muscles as you do. The groans that slip past his lips let you know he’s enjoying it.

You apply more to your hands as you run them over his shoulders and down his chest. You’re pressed right up against his back as you work. The lower your hands slip, the deeper his groans. You smile to yourself and slip one hand past the band of his trunks teasingly, running gently across the top of his pelvis before you pull away and start to work on his right arm.

“There, you’re all done,” you say as you let your hands run down his solid back once more.

You move back and Bucky brings his legs out of the water as he turns to you.

“You’re not.”

He pushes you to lay down on your towel as he moves to straddle you, the water still on his legs sending shivers across your skin.

He grabs the sunscreen and starts to deliver the same attention to you.

He’s obsessed with touching you. Your softness is his favorite thing, and as he applies the sunscreen to your exposed torso, he really takes his time feeling you, enjoying the goosebumps that raise, the tickles and shivers you try to hide. He runs his hands all over you. You’ve closed your eyes as the sun was shining in them and gasp when you feel Bucky’s hands on your breasts, squeezing them before you feel his lips on you, too. You can’t help the moan that leaves you under his attention.

“Turn over,” he says firmly and headily.

You don’t even think to not listen.

He gets more sunscreen as he covers your backsides, rubbing it in with perfect pressure. Another moan slips as he squeezes your neck with one hand, the other trailing down your spine.

And when he’s done, his fingers move to easily undo the string holding your top together, running his hands up and down your back before he leans further down and starts kissing your bare skin.

“Bucky,” you whine, stopping yourself from sitting up knowing your chest will be on complete display.

“Everyone’s sleeping, no one’s gonna see.”

You want to argue, but you can’t bring yourself to. Even if you did, he always gets his way in the end.

You feel him move the flimsy fabric covering you and you really are moving out of thoughtless desire as you bend your knees and hips up slightly before he starts prodding you with his fingers, your wetness evident as your cunt glistens.

You groan as he slips two thick digits into you, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them just right.

“Fuck,” you whimper under your breath.

You’re so lost in his touch you don’t expect it when his fingers move to part your folds open, your slick hole on display for him as he wastes no time and pushes into you with his aching cock.

You moan into the towel beneath you as he stretches your pussy.

The position is unexpectedly delightful as he hits you deeper and deeper with his every thrust.

You swear you could cry with how fucking good it feels.

“You like that baby?” he pants, “Like having this big dick inside your tight fucking pussy.”

A cry leaves you as you nod your head emphatically.

His speed picks up as his words get dirtier and you get closer and closer to the orgasm you can feel building.

You’re both sweating, Bucky more than you, as you fist the towel and groan loudly through grit teeth.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re aware anyone could come out at anytime and see, but you don’t have the will to care as Bucky keeps fucking into you, his hands tight on your hips as he uses you. Another hard thrust has you careening over the edge, moans and mewls leaving your lips as your toes curl and your walls squeeze his thick cock as you come.

Bucky doesn’t let up as he fucks you through it, hips pummeling against your ass over and over until he growls deep in his chest, his hips twitching as he let’s himself go inside you. His grunts and moans fill your ears until he eventually slows completely and pulls out, slapping your ass as he gets up.

You lay there, trying to catch your breath from a moment before you fix your bottoms and roll over, holding your top together.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” you breathe heavily.

He laughs to himself at your words as you slowly get up. He takes his time adjusting himself in his trunks before he turns on you, grabbing your face and tilting your head up in his direction. He leans down and brushes his stubbly cheek against your soft one as he speaks in your ear, “I know you fuckin’ wish you did.”

He keeps his hold on you as he turns his face and takes your lips hotly in his own. He walks you back. And back. And then grabs your loose top from your hands as you gasp, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips. He moves his hand to grab your ass as he holds you against him, your full breasts pressing against his built chest.

He walks you back once more, smiling wickedly into the kiss. Then suddenly your stomach drops as your eyes shoot open when you feel your feet leave the dock. You're under water in a second and quickly swim back up to break the surface, a scowl etched across your face as you struggle to get your breathing back.

Before you can say anything, Bucky joins you in the water, jumping in and splashing you as he does.

You fight the urge to try and hold him down as you swim to the ladder and blindly search the deck for your top. It may be skimpy, but it’s better than nothing.

Bucky’s arms circle you as he pulls you back before his large palm crawls up your chest to cup your breast. Squeezing your flesh before he starts thumbing and tweaking your nipple.

You hate that your body reacts so fucking quickly to him as you feel yourself getting horny all over again. His lips are on your neck as your ass is against him. Your eyes close as a soft moan falls from you when he moves his attention to your other breast.

The creaking of the deck has your eyes shooting open as you attempt to cover your chest. You see Steve walking up, his chest gleaming with sweat as his running shirt is held in his hands.

You want to just let yourself sink under the water but Bucky’s hold on you doesn’t loosen for a second, in fact it only grows tighter, more possessive the closer Steve gets.

“Morning, lovebirds,” Steve greets with a smirk.

You know Bucky won’t let you go so instead of struggling and bringing attention to your nakedness, you grab his hand under the water and pull his arm across your chest as you hold him there.

Bucky wears a smirk of his own as he palms your tit and feels your body’s instant reaction.

“Hey,” Bucky replies, squeezing your breast again knowingly.

Your eyes widen when you see the twitch in Steve’s shorts, his prominent bulge growing as he stares down at you two.

You risk peering up at him and meet his eye instantly as you do. You swallow thickly as you look back down, trying to keep your composure. You know he can see everything, but as long as no one acknowledges that out loud, you can at least pretend that he can’t.

And then, of course, Bucky speaks again.

“So, you enjoy the show, pal?”

#dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky smut #dark!bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #dark bucky barnes smut #dark!bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky x curvy!reader

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earlgreydream · 10 days

Text

🍓 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 5. || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤!𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Suffer does the wolf, crawling to thee Promising a big fire, any fire Saying I'm the one, he's gonna take me I'm on fire, I'm on fire, I'm on fire Suffering is nigh, drawing to me Calling me the one, I'm the white light Beautiful, finite

a/n: it's been a minute, because i couldn't decide where i wanted to go with this story, but i feel like i have a vision again. if you've sent asks about this au (many of you have) know that i am considering and incorporating your ideas, and i adore them. much love x grey

icymi: (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

"James."

You looked up, realizing that was his name - Bucky's name - as he turned to Steve, who stood in the doorway of the master bedroom. The tension sent nausea spinning through your stomach, Bucky looking down at you, saying nothing for a moment.

"Wait here, babydoll," Bucky leaned down and planted a kiss to the crown of your head.

He stepped out, following Steve with a scathing glare. He hadn't ever told you his name was James - and you didn't even call him Bucky, afraid to do so without permission.

"What? What could possibly bring you into my bedroom calling me 'James'?" Bucky snapped at Steve, as soon as you were out of earshot.

"You can't stay here with her," Steve said quietly, seriousness filling his cornflower-blue eyes.

"What do you mean? This is my home, she... She is my home."

"You stole the daughter of the Stark family off the streets. They haven't stopped looking, they have endless resources, and they're getting way too close. James, if you want to keep her, you have to leave," Steve explained, watching anger sear through him.

"Daddy? What's wrong?" you peaked your head into his office, anxiously reaching out for his arm.

"I told you to wait in my bedroom!" Bucky snapped, making you jump back, fear in your eyes, a pang of guilt cutting through his anger.

"Go," he said more gently, running a hand through his hair with a deep sigh.

"I'll take care of it," Steve spoke, gesturing for Bucky to follow you.

He walked back through the house, the one he'd kept you in for eight months, building a life you were finally warming up to. The door to your bedroom - which was rarely used - was closed when Bucky came down the hall. Bucky quietly pushed it open, taking in the soft pink light that streamed through the curtains. You looked beautiful, despite your face being wet with tears. You were curled up in the corner of the bed, biting your fingertips as you cried softly, your cheek resting on your knees as you curled in on yourself.

"I know I disobeyed," you choked, holding something out to him.

Bucky approached you to see what was in your hand, surprised to see the pink leather strap that he'd taken to your backside many times before, whenever he'd felt you earned it in the past eight months. He took it from your hand, kneeling down in front of you.

“Please just spank me, I can’t bear to have you angry at me,” you begged hoarsely, once again shocking him.

“I need it,” you interrupted as he opened his mouth, and the words died in his throat.

Bucky stood, wiping your tears with his thumbs, cradling your face. His vibranium hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you up onto your knees, your head lowering to the bed.

He hushed your whimper, pushing up the slip around your waist. His palm smoothed over your bare skin, the touch tender, a silent communication that he was no longer angry. You kept your face buried in the pink sheets, darkened with the puddle of tears.

Bucky placed his hand on the small of your back, steadying you before the strap cracked against your delicate skin. You sobbed in relief, aware that Bucky wasn’t spanking you nearly as hard as he was capable, doing this for your benefit over his. The leather licked across your skin again, three times quickly in succession. Your cries turned to moans as Bucky took advantage of your exposed position, playing with your dripping sex. He watched your expression change as he gently circled your clit, feeling it harden under his fingertips, slick running down the skin.

“Want you to come, baby. It’s okay, just let me make it feel better,” Bucky coaxed soothingly, gently fucking you on two of his fingers as he continued to stroke you.

The sting in your backside had turned to a dull warmth, mixing with the heat throbbing between your hips. You were close to an orgasm after only moments of this — Bucky knowing exactly how to touch you.

A shudder rolled down your spine before you melted into a euphoria that left your thighs twitching and your cunt spasming. Bucky gave you a moment to catch your breath before wordlessly cleaning you up. He gently eased you out of your collapsed heap on the bed, adjusting you to curl up against his chest, your body folded between his legs.

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair, squeezing you as if he could absorb the stray sobs that wracked your shoulders.

“We’re going to have to go?” You whispered, confirming that you had caught the end of his conversation with Steve.

“For a little bit. I will keep you safe with me, I won’t let anyone harm you,” Bucky promised, firmly pressing a kiss to your forehead, cradling your body in his arms.

.🍓.

Steve praised you as you drank the sedative Bucky made, the two of them preparing to take you to a private airfield, to get you far away from Stark’s looming investigation.

“You’ll keep me safe?” You whispered to Bucky, holding his forearm, your eyes glassy.

“I’ll protect you with my life. Nobody can take you away,” he stroked your cheek, nodding at Steve as your eyelashes began to blink heavily. You sank into the bed, your hand slipping off of Bucky and dangling over the edge. When he lifted you, your body was limp, affected by the much heavier dose you’d been given, to ensure you could get on the plane without an issue.

Despite Steve there with trained medical assistance, it gave Bucky anxiety to see you that way. Though you would have gone with him willingly, he still didn’t want to risk losing you, counting down the moments until he had gotten you out of the country.

Bucky carried you onto the private plane, lying you down on white leather seats. Steve handed him a blanket to drape over you, a gesture that reminded Bucky how thankful he was that Steve was coming abroad, not leaving him alone.

“I hate to do this to her,” Bucky confessed, the back of his finger stroking your cheek.

“She’ll be fine, she’ll adjust.”

It was dark when you came to, no idea how much time had passed, or where you were. After a moment of orienting yourself, you realized you were in the back seat of a large SUV, too lethargic to fully sit up.

“James?” You mumbled, too out of it to even think about the fact you spoke his name.

He looked down at you in surprise, softening at the sound of his name on your lips. He’d expected to be angry if you ever called him by his name, but your call out to him had the opposite effect.

“I’m here, my love. We’re almost home, where you can sleep properly,” Bucky promised, tenderly cradling your head in his lap.

“Where’s home?”

“Sokovia.”

You dozed in and out of consciousness, barely waking up to process that Bucky was carrying you somewhere, men speaking overhead in a language you couldn’t understand.

Your limbs were heavy, head pounding and full of fog. Maybe you’d woken — maybe you hadn’t — it wasn’t clear.

There was no sunshine to greet you. You’d finally awoken in a grey room — a storm raging outside in the same hues as your bleak surroundings. It was terribly cold, and much darker than the daytime you were used to.

A man walked by, shouting sharply in a language you didn’t understand. You jumped, cowering back against the corner of the couch you were on, startled by the unfamiliarity of everything.

“You’re okay, you’re safe here.”

At the sound of James’ voice, the tension left your back and you visibly relaxed once you saw him. He came to your side, touching your forehead to feel for a fever. You leaned into his touch, anxious for some familiarity, yearning for him to comfort you.

“How do you feel?” James questioned, tilting your chin up and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“M’heads foggy,” you mumbled, knuckling at your bleary eyes.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he embraced you, clinging to him and burying your face in him. James stood, carrying you out of the office he’d been working in. He took you to what you presumed was your shared room in this new country, setting you down at the edge of the bed.

It was so different than your traditional home Bucky had before. This building was a brutalist design, stark concrete that matched the grey weather outside. The bedroom was more of a suite, a table and couch on one end, and the tub in the room instead of in the attached bath. Views out large windows overlooked an industrial city, centuries old and weathered by the cruelty of time.

You turned at the sound of running water, James drawing a bath for you in the huge bathtub. His hair hung down messily in his eyes as he leaned over, ditching his teeshirt to reveal extremely toned muscles. As you watched, a warmth began to spread through your chest, encasing your body as you ached for intimacy.

James looked up as he felt you approach, pausing to kiss your temple. He stilled when your hand went to his torso, fingertips tracing the definition of his abdomen.

“Will you get in with me, please?” You asked, looking up to meet his eyes, quietly holding his gaze.

“Of course. C’mere,” James’ voice came out in a whisper, his fingers tilting your chin up.

You kissed him softly, stepping closer so your bodies were touching, his arms snaking around your waist. This kiss felt different, so intimate and loving compared to your history. You exhaled as he pulled away to get in the bath with you, his back resting against the high side of the tub.

“James, I—” you began, straddling his waist and reaching below the water to touch him.

His head rested to the side, mesmerized by how sweet his name sounded on your lips, still so unused to it.

“Baby, wait. Our first time can’t be like this. You deserve better,” he insisted gently, stopping you from riding him.

The surprise was evident on your features, and his wet hand cupped your cheek to pull you into another kiss.

“I want to, I do, more than anything. Just not here, not in this state,” he spoke against your skin, relaxing as you nodded.

You sat down in the water, letting him massage soap over your sore body. He hummed softly as he touched you, fingertips trailing up and down your spine, basking in your short-lived peace.

The door swung open, making you jump and cover your chest with your arms, frightened by the intrusion.

“Don’t you knock?” James snapped, standing up.

Water dripped from his Adonis form, completely bare and on display as he climbed out of the tub. He wasn’t shy in front of the blond man who’d stormed in, one with harsh eyes and sharp features.

“It’s my house,” he snapped back in an unwaveringly impatient tone before launching quickly into the language you didn’t understand.

“Come,” James interrupted him, reaching to help you out of the bath.

You hesitated, not wanting to be seen naked by the stranger who had stormed in, but took his hand out of obedience.

“I’m not looking at you,” he waved dismissively before turning and slamming the door behind him.

“That’s Zemo, the baron who is hosting us. It is his compound. He won’t hurt you,” James gently explained, helping you out of the water and handing you a towel.

“I’ve got to go help him with some work. You’re free to roam inside, everywhere is stationed with his private security. Steve’s around here too, should you need something. Be my good girl?” He was apologetic, but you nodded bravely, watching him go.

Despite having more freedom to explore than you expected, you weren’t keen on wandering around the cement castle surrounded by strange men who didn’t speak your language.

You found that your new place had also come with a new wardrobe, likely in the rush to leave the states. A grin crossed your face as you pulled sweats from the drawer, unable to help yourself but be thankful for more practical clothing. It was cold in sokovia, colder in the cement and stone compound. You found matching socks, comfy as possible in your drug-hangover.

The growling of your stomach became impossible to ignore, resigning to find something to eat. A long hallway stretched out past your room, most of the adjacent doors closed. Unsure of what to do, you walked through the building, listening for a familiar voice.

“Steve?” You called, unnerved by the silent security that watched from doorways.

Your voice became more desperate, wanting the protection of your lover but unable to get it.

“I’m here,” Steve’s voice sent a wave of relief over you, seeing him in an office, closing his laptop.

“You’re awake, and hungry, I’m sure?”

A nod confirmed his ability to read your mind, and he led you down to an immaculate kitchen. Glass doors lined the dining side, looking out into frostbit gardens, stretching for several acres of the compound.

“You should spend some time outside on a nicer day. Some vitamin D would be good for you,” Steve noticed you staring.

You took a seat at the bar top as he set out some toast for you to eat while he made smoothies. The loud grind of the blender made you cringe, earning an apologetic smile. Steve explained that you needed rest and extra hydration to recover as you drank your smoothie, though you slowly began to space, losing track of what he was saying.

When James finally got out of meetings with Zemo, it was pitch black outside in the unforgiving night. He crossed a small courtyard to the building you were in — where the living quarters were, and went in search of you.

“Hey,” Steve stopped him in the hall, signaling to be quiet.

“She ate some, but definitely still out of it. She’s asleep in here, wouldn’t go back to your room alone,” he explained, letting James in his office, where you were contorted into a chair. James knelt down, gently rubbing a hand over your thigh.

“Baby,” he murmured, rousing you out of your fitful sleep.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

You nodded, getting up and taking his hand. James said goodnight to Steve before returning to your suite, rubbing your back over the lilac sweats he’d gotten for you.

His hand slipped from yours as he went to change out of his suit, running his hands through messy dark hair as he pulled it out of its bun. You walked up behind James, wrapping your arms around him and resting your cheek against his back.

James’ hand went over yours, gently thumbing over your knuckles and standing in the quiet with you. You clung to him, your consistency in what was so much chaos, needing him to ground you.

#strawberry!au #stockholm!reader #strawberry kisses #marvel #bucky barnes #avengers au #bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky smut #winter soldier #bucky imagine #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky

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highonmarvel · 1 year

Text

You Can Cry

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

content warnings here!

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

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

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

“You sad, pretty girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bucky,” he mumbles.

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

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

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

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

Despite your better judgement, you nod; maybe that is the best judgement, to just respond the way he wants so he might just leave you alone. No, your compliance is only seeming to spur him on, as shown by a pity frown taking shape on his face, and you can’t quite place if he’s mocking you or trying to seem more empathetic in some weird way.

“No, a sweet girl like you?” he places a kiss on your forehead, “You’re precious, angel.”

You shift uncomfortably, unable read the situation, unable to tell if he’s just fucking with you or if he feels bad. And you don’t have to, because just as he pulls away to look at you, you hear tyres against gravel, a car pulling around the corner, snapping you out of your… trance, and whipping your head to see a white corolla.

“Stay beautiful, doll,” Bucky says, and he slips into the shadows before you can grasp it. Cold air rushes against your cheeks—you hadn’t realised his hands were relatively warm—making you feel more exposed. For good measure, you quickly wipe away tears before hoping into the car with a smile to your driver.

Your date texts you the next morning, apologises for upsetting you—even though he doesn’t know how—and asks for a redo, or a second date, kinda, he puts it. With a clear mind, you do feel bad for being so dramatic and overly sensitive last night, and thinking back on it, a little rude with how short you were being with him when all he did was laugh lightly, it wasn’t malicious. He was a nice guy. You’re still shaken from the previous night, but maybe a casual date will relax you.

You agree, and he immediately responds, suggesting another restaurant for that evening.

You feel very pretty in your dress as you enter the restaurant and sit at table. You had arrived only 10 minutes late, so maybe you should just give him more time to show up. You didn’t want to order, but the waitress seemed to be getting impatient, and so you order something light and ate alone. An hour and he still wasn’t here. Your plate is cleared away, barely anything touched, and a few teardrops splashed at the edges.

You’re sniffling in the corridor of your apartment as you fumble with your keys and stumble in, trying not to completely break down as you kick off your shoes and head straight for your bedroom, thinking that you could escape some crying if you just fell asleep.

You’re sobbing quietly as you enter, pushing the door behind you, not even caring that it didn’t really close, ready to flop onto bed.

“You sad, pretty girl?”

You gasp and spin to the sound of that familiar voice, the same words being spoken in the same tone as the previous night.

Bucky pushes the door and this time it clicks shut. He looks up at you, and his blue eyes catch the moonlight in a soft yet sinister manner, causing you to stumble back. You can barely see him through the tears blurring your vision and the dark room.

“Bucky?” you whisper, unnecessarily, seeing as of fucking course it’s Bucky.

He bends his head back slightly with a smile, “I love the way you say my name, doll. Can you say it again for me?”

You take a few steps back, heart racing faster than you ever thought it could, and let out a quiet shriek as your heel hits the foot of your bed and your fall back onto it. Bucky is hovering over you in a flash, one hand propping him up and his right slipping under your dress to rub soothing circles on your thigh.

“Did he stand you up?” he leans down, lips between your ear and neck, “He doesn’t like you, princess.”

You try not to let out a sound, but you can’t stop a choked sob from escaping, and he smiles against your neck. You turn your head away, but he stays near, his voice hovering just above your ear, “He doesn’t like you, and he can’t take care of you, sweetheart, he can’t.”

Despite your efforts, another choked gasp escapes you, and you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping he’ll just go away.

“You’re shaking,” he notes, changing his circular motions from clockwise to anti, “Are you scared, doll? Am I scaring you?”

“Yes!” you gasp as he kisses your neck.

“No…” he replies against your skin, faux-disbelief coating his tone, “But I won’t hurt you, angel; he will.”

He lies down next to you and brings his left hand up to stroke your face, “It’s okay, you can cry,” he coaxes, and you do, breath escaping your lungs in short gasps as tears fall and he wipes them away, kissing your neck and still rubbing circles on your thigh, “You can cry…”

His thumb slides to your inner thigh and you squirm, but he quickly stops you by harshly gripping your thigh. Once he’s sure you won’t twist again, he runs his finger up and down your inner thigh with a sigh.

“You’ll learn to love this, doll, but for now… you can cry…” he shifts downward and pulls your dress up, “A sweet girl like you’s gotta taste sweet too.”

✪

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alanagrey · 2 months

Text

Dark Bucky Barnes One Shots

ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪs ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ sᴘᴇᴄɪғɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪsᴛᴜʀʙɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄs. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs.

✸ indicates my personal favourites, but all the below fics are absolutely fantastic.

◌ One Shots

Two Graves, by @highonmarvel

→ [no description]

Cut, by @boxofbonesfic ✸

→ [You haven’t been having the best luck on dating apps, but you’re willing to try again]

disturbed, by @twjournals

→ [leaving the woods did nothing to keep the darkness from following you home]

Concrete Jungle Rapunzel, by @imanuglywombat

→ [You spend your days locked in a gilded cage, high above the concrete jungle, waiting for Bucky to return]

Doctor, Doctor, by @honeyhan-123

→ [With a bullet in his arm, Bucky seeks medical attention and a certain surgeon catches his eye]

What You Can’t See, by @honeyhan-123

→ [Bucky doesn’t understand how you could think were were just a one night stand]

R U Mine?, by @cryptidcasanova

→ [You made the mistake of falling for the mysterious stranger you met in New York. Unfortunately for you, you never asked about his line of work]

Goosebumps, @cherienymphe

→ [Living with your roommate was a dream come true…until she met Bucky]

Ten Steps, by @darkthallas

→ [A home intrusion by The Winter Soldier that doesn’t end so well for you]

After Party, by @xxindiglow

→ [Bucky doesn't take kindly to rejection]

Til Death Do Us Part, by @cherienymphe ✸

→ [after your arranged marriage has served its purpose, you bring up the inevitable topic of divorce. It is only then do you realize that you and your husband might not be on the same page]

swimming pools, by @sgt-seabass

→ [Bucky pays you back for your time as his contact by teaching you to swim]

You Can Cry, @highonmarvel ✸

→ [Biker!Bucky takes a liking to a sensitive girl]

You Know Better, Don’t You?, @xxindiglow

→ [Bucky doesn't like being told to move on. Ex-boyfriends are a pain in the ass]

blackout, by @our-destiny

→ [no description] [He was always watching. Everywhere you go he was always there keeping an eye on you]

Warm, by @highonmarvel

→ [Vampire!Bucky saves you from a car wreck]

Dumb Bunny, by @lunarbuck

→ [The Wolf sees you walking through the forest on your way to your grandmother's house, and he just can't help himself]

Take Me Home Tonight, by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

→ [You run into a familiar face while working]

You’re My Obsession, by @navybrat817 ✸

→ [You’re the light in Bucky’s darkness. And he doesn’t want to share you with anyone, including Steve]

Best Man, by @navybrat817

→ [Bucky found the girl of his dreams and Steve couldn’t be happier]

Send Me An Angel, by @navybrat817

→ [Bucky thinks you’re an angel]

Run Like Hell, by @navybrat817

→ [You weren’t supposed to see the Winter Soldier that day. So you ran. The Soldat loves a good chase though...and you’re not getting away from him that easily]

Caught in the Sirens, by @straywords

→ [After getting away from your ex, you spend the majority of your time looking over your shoulder. When Officer Barnes then takes a special interest in your case, it seems too good to be true]

Tempest, by @highonmarvel ✸

→ [The storm brewing outside is nothing compared to the one in here]

Polaroids, by @highonmarvel

→ [You find out your boyfriend’s into photography]

HR, by @highonmarvel

→ [Your ex has made sure you’ll never get a job in NYC again, but you’re determined to keep your head above water. Just as things are getting too bleak to bare, you meet James Barnes]

Himalayan Salt, by @highonmarvel ✸

→ [You’re assigned to a notoriously grumpy war vet, but he’s different with you]

#dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark bucky x reader

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dungeonpuppykai · 1 month

Text

Back To Black (Teaser)

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

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

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

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

Status: Complete.

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

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 1 year

Text

Future

Pairing. Dark Bucky Barnes x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Bucky wants you to become fully his, at any cost.

WARNINGS: Babytrapping; Birth Control Tampering; NSFW (very lightly).

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Bucky doesn’t waste any time grabbing the pills from your bedside, switching them with another package that he has in his pocket. The sound of the water running tells him he still has plenty of time before you finish your nightly shower.

He lays back in bed, a dreamy sigh leaving his lips as he thinks about what he just did. He did the right thing, that’s for sure. He knows perfectly how you see him, just a casual hook-up and nothing else. You only want sex from him and that drives him crazy.

Bucky wants you. He loves you. Deeply. He’d do anything and everything for you yet you’re too blind to see the extent of his love. You’re just immature, like many women these days.

But he has the perfect solution for you though: a baby.

Once you’re all round up with his kid inside, you won’t have time or the strenght to go to those stupid parties or whatsoever. Your days of being a partygirl would be finally over and you’d take on the role of caring wife and mother. As you should.

Soon, you’re stepping out of the shower, only a towel wrapped around your deliciously wet body.

“Babe, what are you doing? Come to bed.” he urges you, expertly removing his shirt. His abs are on full display and he knows you won’t be able to resist him or round two.

You jump back to the bed, removing your towel and climbing on Bucky’s lap. His hands immediately grab your boobs, squishing them under his fingers and making you moan in pleasure. He kisses your neck, sucking the skin when you suddenly gasp.

You move towards the bedside table, grabbing the vial of pills and popping one into your mouth.

“Almost forgot my pill. Because of you.” you joke, landing a playful punch on his arm.

Bucky laughs, greedily watching you swallow the pill. His eyes follow the lump on your throat as you gulp down the tablet. You immediately attach your lips back to his and you both fall back down on the bed, ready for some good time.

But only Bucky knows how much this good time will cost you in the future.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #dark marvel #yandere marvel #yandere avengers #yandere bucky barnes #yandere bucky barnes x reader #yandere!bucky barnes #yandere!bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #tw: yandere #yandere x reader #tw: baby trapping #bucky barnes x reader

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timidpumpkin · 11 months

Note

Can I get a reaction when reader want to go to carnival or other fun places and then they got lost and ended up at their own home

Is the reader going to escape or go back to their daddies TYSM🤗

Hiiii🥰🥰🥰💜💜💜. I loved this idea sooo much and it really helped get me out of the writer's block funk I was in! It’s a litttle bit different from what you asked so I hope that’s okay and you still like it!! Thank you so so much, I loved writing this!!~~~~~💖💖💖💖💖

(pictures are not my own)

Helpless (Stucky x reader)

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Warnings/tags: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Female reader, stockholm syndrome, forced age regression, mention of previous kidnapping, reader gets lost, mild injury to reader, Implied reader has small hands in comparison because Stucky is gigantic (fact), Angst, Fluff, Comfort. Reader baby-talks as well, Lots o' cute nicknames (as usual).

Word count: 4.1k

Tagging a few of the absolutely lovely people who have supported me this whole time. I love you and appreciate you all more than i can express. @haleyhunwritess @ppatricia34me @hoplessfussybambi @canyonmooncreations @sapphyslittlenook

P.S. i'm gonna start a tag list so lemme know if you wanna be added <3

It was getting a bit cooler now.

The previously bright day had been overtaken by navy shadows that bring nippy wisps of air that catch on your exposed arms, sending chills throughout you.

“I told you we should have used the long-sleeved one,” Steve remarks to Bucky as he watches you make a tiny shiver.

Bucky rolls his eyes at him, knowing you were the one who insisted on this specific onesie when he dressed you this afternoon. With an eager look on your face, you held it up to him, proudly showing him how it would match perfectly with some leg warmers you found in your drawer. He couldn’t argue with that, not when your giddy smile and sweet eyes looked at him while holding it up as high as you could for him.

“Come here babydoll,” Bucky says, squatting down a bit to get closer to your level.

You don't hear him for a second. Not even your numbed fingertips could distract you from the bright lights that reflect off your eyes. You’ve been watching the multicolored Ferris wheel since you got here. You wanted to go on it so bad.

Thus far, you’ve only been allowed to play the ground games. Though, you can’t complain too much now that you’ve collected quite a load of new stuffies to bring home. You’d like to think yourself pretty talented at these games–maybe too talented.

You’ve all but completely missed the harsh glares Bucky gives the poor workers when they tell you “awh too bad” when you miss the target, but then proceed to hand you whichever stuffed animal or toy you’d been wanting anyway. You’d turn around to your daddies, excitingly showing them your prize and proudly exclaiming “I won! I won!” and Bucky would always tell you how good of a job you did every time.

“Babydoll?” Bucky calls again, bringing you back to reality, his voice sweet, as if he’s teasing you a bit, knowing how much you've enjoyed this outing.

It was a tough call. Bringing you here. They knew how much you wanted to go. Ever since Peter babbled on and on about his trip to the carnival at his birthday party a few months ago, you’ve been begging them ever since. It’s not that they didn't want to take you. It could never be that. They just weren’t sure if it would be safe…

“There’s all kinds of creeps at those things!” Steve argues to Bucky, turning around as if that’s the last word and final say about it.

“I know. I know. But…she really wants to go. Plus…it’s not like we’ll ever let her out of our sight.” Bucky tries to reason, knowing it was something they would enjoy too. He has several fond memories of dragging Steve along with him through the bustling crowds of people just so he could play–and win–all the games he could, always asking Steve which prize he wanted before promising him he’d win it on the first try. Long before he knew of what true cruelties lived beyond their hometown, Bucky had already mastered the art of staring down unfair showmen who would poke fun at Steve’s then narrower figure.

Bucky just couldn’t help the almost giddy feeling he got just at the idea of holding you up high while you throw one of those balls with all your might to win some oversized stuffed animal that you’d undoubtedly insist on carrying on your own despite it being twice your height.

“We could even get one of those leash things,” he suggests, the idea popping into his mind like it’s the most brilliant thing, remembering how he showed the leashed froggy backpack he saw a while ago to Steve.

“It’s not just that,” Steve admits, brows furrowed as he sits on the edge of the bed, a sad and worried look overtaking his features that makes Bucky want to cave to anything he’d ask. “what if…” he trails off, not meeting Bucky’s gaze, “what if…she tries to run off?” he says quietly as if the fear itself would be brought to life if he spoke it too loudly.

It had been a long while since you tried to run away. All things considered, you seemed to be fully adjusted now. Every so often you would act up, but only in the way that all little girls would every now and then. They would always punish you appropriately, the way all good daddies would, reminding you that your life with them is your life, and that the horrid life you had before you was one never meant for a sweet innocent little girl like you.

They saved you. Steve routinely reminded you as such, but he didn’t have to. Bucky could tell you knew it was true now just by the way your bright eyes greeted them every morning. You knew that you were only good and safe with them to take care of you. His little girl couldn't even function without them now. It was exactly how it was supposed to be.

Bucky thinks for a moment, walking closer to Steve and kneeling on the floor in front of him. He pushes his way into him, maneuvering himself between Steve’s legs, and scoops his distressed hands into his, kissing them both before looking back up to Steve.

“She won’t.” he says, thick air questioning if it's true.

But his words say more than just that. The meaningful look in Bucky’s eyes tell Steve that no matter what, they’ll always have you. And that there was no way you could get away from them. Bucky knew it wasn't just the fear of physically losing you, but the fear of hurt that they would feel if you even tried.

Steve smiles a bit, his hands pulling Bucky up so that he’s now standing between his legs. He takes his hands, sliding them down from Bucky’s sides to his hips where they rest for the moment.

“Alright,” Steve sighs, looking up to Bucky, and pulling him a bit closer by his belt loops, “but any sign of trouble, we leave” Steve states, seriousness in his tone, the same kind of voice he uses when they’re on missions together.

“As if it would be any other way.” Bucky remarks, a smirk teasing his face as he dips his head down a bit to meet his lips with Steve’s. Steve sighs into his kiss, feeling the tension leaving his body just by Bucky’s stable words and secure presence.

“You think too much Rogers” Bucky teases after breaking from the kiss, thinking of all the times Steve would try to worm his way out of Bucky having to go on a mission with him in fear of his partner getting hurt–whether it be mentally or physically–Steve couldn't bare the thought of having to see Bucky like he was when he saw him for the first time in this new world.

“Can’t help it,” he breathes, Bucky never ceasing to take his breath away from his all-encompassing kisses. “I love you two more than anything,” he says earnestly as if it’s the only known fact in the universe.

“I know” Bucky smiles, “I know.”

“Oh-sorry Daddy!” you turn around, not meaning to ignore him. He holds out a sweatshirt and you instinctively hold up your arms so he can help put it on you. “Did you see the Ferris wheel Daddy?” you ask excitingly for the third time that night. Bucky chuckles a bit.

“Yes, I did,” he answers as if it’s the first he’s hearing about it while putting some soft-knitted mittens he had in his pocket on your hands. “M’not sure if Dada heard though,” he whispers to you, “maybe you should go tell him,” he informs you with a wink.

You hurriedly run over to Steve, jumping in place over and over again in front of him.

“Dada! Dada!” you take his hand and drag him a bit closer to where you had the best view of the colorful wheel. “Look!” you point and turn to him with an excited expression. “Can we go? Please? Pretty please? Please please please please-” you babble over and over again while continuing to jump up and down until you’ve all but run out of air in your lungs.

Steve looks at the contraption suspiciously, not trusting of the achy-sounding metal, and certainly not wanting his little girl near anything dangerous. He catches a glimpse of Bucky though, who’s contagiously smiling at you both, and remembers how often Bucky tells him not to worry so much.

“Okay-okay” Steve caves, unable to help but smile at your hyper manner right now. “Just this once, then we can go home and get you all nice and warm” he teasingly pinches at your cold cheeks.

“Yayayay!” you literally scream out, not even caring one bit that he said it was only once or that you had to go home after this. You were more than overjoyed that you got to ride it at all.

You start to make a sprint for it, only getting a few feet when resistance yanks you back, stopping you in your tracks and forcing you to steady yourself from the unexpected halt in momentum. Steve hadn’t even pulled on the backpack at all, it was just your pure running and his not moving an inch that caused you to ricochet back a bit. It’s a wonder you didn't fall flat on your behind.

“Heh-sorry!” you sheepishly laugh it off and wait patiently for them to catch up with you in basically two full steps for them.

As you make the short walk to the diminishing line in the late hour, Steve stops to tie his shoe, occupying both of his hands. You swing your arms aimlessly around waiting for him to finish while looking around.

As you mindlessly scan the area around you, your head does a double take as you recognize something.

No–someone.

You watch the stranger in confusion until the remnants of memory come back to you. It was a friend. But this person wasn’t Peter or Wanda…no. It was a friend from…before.

It disorients you, confusion washing over you and placing a pit in your stomach as your life before now was mostly forgotten and placed in a dusty cardboard box in the back of your mind’s vaults.

You watch as they walk away, towards where you know leads to the parking lot. And as if something takes over you, you start following their footsteps, unhinderedly drifting away from where Steve and Bucky are.

As you mindlessly follow, several feet behind, memories of your past life replay in your mind. They playback in black and white as if you’re watching one of those really old movies Steve likes to show you sometimes.

Then you hazily remember when they first found you…took you. Emotions of how scared and confused you were overtake your mind. You remember how they kept you in the house, never letting you leave.

“Sily girl, Dada can’t kidnap what’s already his,” Steve would tell you every time you’d harshly accuse him of kidnapping you.

“No one can protect you like we can,” Bucky would shush you after one of his punishments when you had pushed too hard. “Daddy only does this ‘cause he loves you.” he’d brush over your already bruising skin before carefully wiping away the tears that he had ignored for hours before.

Some nights you’d wake from nightmares, the specifics of it not mattering when Steve would find you crying into your stuffie. He never hesitated to pick you up and let you weep into his shoulder. Always whispering that you were okay, that you were safe.

“It’s okay angel, Dada’s here. You’re safe with me. I’ll always keep you safe. Always.” he’d repeat to you sincerely, holding onto you so tightly, as if the slightest loosening of his grip meant the very air around him would harm you.

To him though, it was true. Nothing could hurt you as long as you were in his arms. He’d carry you downstairs, where Bucky would tell you that nightmares didn’t matter “‘cause they aren’t real, doll…not like me and Dada.” he’d caress your warm cheeks while Steve fetched you some cold milk. They’d stay up with you as long as you needed, not even daring to shut an eye until you felt safe enough to sleep again.

And truthfully…you did. You did feel safe.

Maybe it was strange…the way you sought their comfort…their touch…their love, when you fought it in the beginning.

And you did fight…hard.

But every retaliation you made only ended in harsh grabs. Every effort to push them away resulted in lacerated reminders. Every moment you spent denying what they told you only yielded unrestrained punishments.

“My sweet girl…you’ll learn soon enough. Fighting us only makes it harder for you.” Steve would stroke your cheek through the bars of your crib. “All you have to do is listen to what we say. We know what’s best for you, angel.” he’d say before leaving you all tied up and alone for hours…sometimes days.

And then, after you’d more than cried yourself dry, throat scratchy from lack of hydration, he’d appear to you, asking if you’d learned your lesson. Your body would somehow discover new tears as you’d plead with him, promising him you’d be a good girl.

It’s then that he’d smile down at you so sweetly, lifting your limp body from its cushiony cage and shower you with endless affection.

He’d drown you with attention, never allowing you to lift a finger. He’d clean you up with your favorite scented soap, and after you were all done, Bucky would present you with a new set of soft clothes they bought just for you for taking your punishment so so well. They’d play your favorite shows and message every sore spot on your tired body after ordering from your favorite type of take out, something you never even told them. There wasn’t a moment where they weren’t touching you in some way, dousing you with sweet words about how much they loved their beautiful helpless little girl.

Helpless.

A word that reminds you exactly how you felt the very first time you bumped into Steve. All alone and scared, in a place that was dark and unfamiliar. You were lost then.

Just like you were right now.

You practically snap back into reality, the one where you’ve found yourself far away from the luminous festival lights and eerily close to where you can’t hear racket of activities anymore. It’s quiet, and you don’t even know where that funnily familiar person you were following went. Dread fills your insides as you realize you’re all alone.

You turn around hastily,

Anxiety fills your stomach as you rashly run in the opposite direction, before tripping on a wire that sends you spiraling down to the ground. You clumsily try to catch yourself, mittened hands harshly hitting the pavement, and asphalt slashes through your leggings, exposing the soft flesh of your knees to razor-sharp pain.

The sudden impact scares you, tears that were already forming from before start rushing out of your eyes.

Instinctually, you cry for Steve. For Dada. But when after too many moments you don’t feel their comfort, you look around and remember they’re not there. Your heart pounds as people rush by seemingly unaffected by your fallen form. You swirl your head around looking for them and are instead met with the haunting image of your green leash’s end, its ghostly emptiness scorning you from where it lays.

You cry harder, guilt and anguish now thumping alongside the throbbing in your chest that radiates to your body’s wounded limbs and you're pretty sure the only words coming out of your mouth are pathetic strings of ‘daddy’ and ‘dada.’

“There she is” Bucky spots you, both of them rushing over to you, distraught as they notice your scraped-up form.

“Dada!” you cry, leaping towards Steve and wrapping your arms around his neck as he picks you up. You helplessly weep, not just from the physical pain but from the emotional strain your misplaced detour took you on. You cry for leaving them. You can't tell if it was on purpose, but you feel awful from even remembering your past life and getting so close to being lost.

“Fuck, angel. What happened?” Steve breathes, taking the scuffed mittens off your hands to examine you closer.

“I-...I-” you try to speak through gasps of crying. They both question you on where you went and why you walked away. You barely manage to tell the story in broken sobs as to what truthfully happened. They listen intensively as you tearfully explain the details of what happened.

“But-but-I-I don’t wanna! Don’t wanna lose daddies! Don’t wanna! Didn’t mean t-to! I-I p-promise-I-I didn’t!” you stagger between breaths, gasping for air as your sob relentlessly in Steve’s arms.

“Shh, hey-hey” Bucky caresses your head, directing your attention to him. “It’s okay, doll. It’s okay. You’re okay.” he consoles. Steve gently wipes your tears at the same time and helps in calming you. You look at them both through blurry vision and continue weeping apologies to which they both remind you that it’s okay.

They were scared to death when they only took their eyes off you for a second and you were gone…but they found you, just like the first time.

They bring you over to sit down on a bench so they can better help console you and check your injuries. Steve rummages through the backpack he was carrying to get a first aid kit, and Bukcy watches through tortured eyes as you miserably cry.

“Doll.” he tenderly tilts your chin up to him. Tearful eyes red from crying look up to him. “Daddy’s proud of you.” he states, earnestly, stern and true. It makes you cry harder though, with confusion written all over your face. Proud? How could he be proud when you almost thought about running away?

“W-why?” you cry “I-I bad. bad!” you weep pitifully as you feel Steve cleaning your knees.

“No angel. You’re not bad.” Steve states, only confusing you more, you were sure both of them would be upset with you…considering they had every reason to.

“You know why?” Bucky asks, stroking your previously cold cheeks that have now been warmed by your tears. You shake your head no as more seemingly endless tears fall. “‘Cause you came back,” he says, wiping them as they come. “You came back to find us. That’s all that matters.” Bucky reassures you.

It hurts, both his and Steve’s worst fear almost coming to life.

But it didn't.

And truthfully, no one understood that more than Bucky. He knew more than anyone what it was like to get confused. To see or hear something otherwise mundane that whips you back to a place where you feel out of control.

The story you recanted to them rings all too familiar to him. It reminds him of shaky hands and paralyzed tongue that attempted to explain to Steve what it was like to not be in control of your own body. Your own actions.

It didn’t matter that you wandered away. It didn’t matter where your thoughts went. All that mattered was that you cried for them. All that mattered was your tiny hands curled around Steve's shirt so hard he’d thought you’d hurt your own fingers. All that mattered was the way you pulled Bucky closer while weeping his name as he comforted you.

All that mattered…was that you needed your Daddies.

They both reassure as such in ways they knew you'd understand. Besides, it only made sense that their little girl would get confused sometimes. That’s what daddies are for. And you came back because you knew they always made the best decisions for you. And even if on the off chance that you hadn't…that really wouldn’t have mattered anyway either. They would always find their little girl because you belong with them. Always and forever.

“Which ones do you want little princess?” Steve asks you, offering a variety of colorful bandages in front of you. Your hysteria and their sweet strong words have all but distracted you from the pain of the scratches lacerating your knees. You point to the ones you like and Steve praises you for making “such a good choice babygirl.”

Bucky holds you close and lets you bury your head in his chest while Steve carefully puts them on. You feel guilt again when you notice that the soft mittens now have little scuffs and holes in them that match your pants. But Steve reassures you that it’s ‘no biggie’ and that they can always get you another pair.

“How about Daddy and I get you some ice cream?” Steve suggests, knowing sweets was at least one way to cheer his sweet girl up.

You sniffle, looking to him at the suggestion.

“Ice cweam?” you say with a small voice “I-I wike ice cweam” you say softly, not meaning to slur your words. But you never did anyway, it always just happened beyond your control.

“I think that sounds perfect, huh doll?” Bucky says lightheartedly and sweetly while picking you up from the bench and placing you in Steve's arms.

“Wif sprinkles toos?” you ask, rubbing your sore eyes.

“All the sprinkles for my sweet little girl” Steve smiles at you while playfully poking at your side making you giggle a bit.

The cold dessert cools your hot throat and brings a smile back to your face. Of course, what really made you happy was knowing your daddies weren’t upset with you, and even more importantly, that you were never going to lose them.

“Hey what’s that on Dada’s face?” Bucky points directly to Steve, making you turn to examine it closely as you're still in his arms. It gives Bucky the opportunity to steal a lick from your ice cream.

“Hey!” you laugh turning back to Bucky’s not-so-secret move when you realize there was nothing amiss on your Dada’s face.

“What?” he puts his hands and shoulders up in a shrug of confusion while looking around and feigning confusion. You giggle more as obvious signs of ice cream are on the tip of his nose.

“Looks like daddy’s the one with something on his face” Steve teases, and you laugh with them while they let you finish your little treat.

“You still wanna go up on the Ferris wheel babygirl?” Steve asks after wiping your hands clean from any sticky residue. You look up to him with awe and shock, not expecting him to still offer it.

“Really?” you question with a hopeful but weary look on your face from not being sure of why you deserve it. Steve nods at you and tells you yes. Maybe he was skeptical before, but nothing was better than seeing his little girl's face light up in a smile.

Plus, Steve knew you were their little girl. More than that, he knew that you knew. In your heart, you came back to them. You needed them. And that’s all Steve could ever want.

You’re squeezed between your two daddies as the wheel makes its way up to the top. They watch as you look in awe of how tiny everything looks from up above. This must be what it's like for your daddies to see all the time. You feel as though you’re at the tippity top of the wheel forever. You don’t mind as it’s beautiful and quiet up there with the only people in the world you wanted to be with. You tiredly lay your head against Steve's arm, signaling to him that you’ll likely sleep the whole drive home.

“I love you,” you say contently, and they know you say it for both of them.

“We love you too angel. So much,” Steve tells you, smiling down at his sleepy little girl, and looking up to see Bucky’s lightened up face too.

He takes it all in, remembering the times when just he and Bucky would go out to these things–or really–when Bukcy would drag him to the carnivals. He knew how much Bucky loved this. He knew how much you loved this. And he loved it too. He loved you both, and that was all he needed.

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