#dark!bucky x you | 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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thyme-in-a-bubble · 6 months

Text

can't fight the moonlight

kinktober, day twenty-nine

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

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

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

word count: 2345

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

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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kaismasterlist · 11 months

Text

|| Bliss ||

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

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

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

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

Status: Complete.

Chapters:

III

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

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highonmarvel · 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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buckyscombatboots · 2 years

Text

Monstertober Day 8

Careful what you wish for 🕯

Pairing: Incubus!Bucky Barnes x Reader

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

Nicknames: Angel, Doll, sweetness

Word count: 2.5k

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

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

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

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

Nothing happens.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag list: @alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @redbloodedgurl @shrekwreck @sweetwrathoflilith @cjand10 @flamefoxxrecs @addie5587483 @little-bunny0523 @sojuxxi @adoreyouusugar @teambarnes72 @wintasssoldier @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @taramaria @anniellacinamon @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @teddybearsgrr

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 2 years

Text

PLAYING DANGEROUS- J.B BARNES

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

Word Count: 5.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now all you could smell was burning flesh.

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

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

Good.

Let it stain him.

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

Tried to make him happy.

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

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

It was satisfying. It felt good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He would listen now. He had no choice.

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

Just like how you were trained by Donavin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn't miss him. Not one bit.

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

The less they knew- the better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was beautiful. Breath-takingly beautiful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you would too, to understand him better.

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

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

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

So why wasn't he?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But with Bucky, it was different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fine. Straight to the point.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was finding humor out of all of this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Making you stay there and take it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It hurt. He hurt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes. Yes it's too much.

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

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

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

“Not inside. Can’t- can’t inside.”

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

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

You were done for. Done.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew better than to ask questions.

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

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

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

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

You gulped. Oh god.

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thesexydevils · 1 year

Text

The Psychologist

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

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

Pairing: Criminal/Mafia Bucky x female reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I understand Director. Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

Name: James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky

Born: 10. March 1984 in Brooklyn, NY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will see you soon doll.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N I will find you. Promise.”

The End

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

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

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dungeonpuppykai · 27 days

Text

Back To Black (Teaser)

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

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

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

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

Status: Complete.

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

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boxofbonesfic · 2 years

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Title: Cut

Pairing: Soft Dark! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Kink Prompt: Cut [Knife play]

Word Count: 1,944

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll check with the host.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“B-Bucky I—”

“You blocked me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

fin

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froggyfics · 3 months

Text

For Your Pleasure - 3

The aftermath comes to light.

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

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

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

Warnings: violence, bloodshed

Word Count: 1,774

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

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

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

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

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

“The Vikings,” she ominously tells you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Frida!” you cry out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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highonmarvel · 1 year

Text

You Can Cry

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

content warnings here!

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

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

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

“You sad, pretty girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bucky,” he mumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sad, pretty girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✪

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buckyscombatboots · 2 years

Text

Monstertober Day 2:

My Legacy

Pairing: Orc!Bucky x Captured!Reader

Warnings: Non con→Dub con, Dead dove: Do not eat, insults/degrading language, forced breeding, forced impregnation, drastic size difference, belly bulge, blood mention, virgin!reader, hair pulling, cowgirl→mating press, dacryphilia, dark!bucky, threat of violence, aphrodisiac

Nicknames: Tiny, little one, cum slut

Word count: 2.4 k

Monstertober master list

Master list

Tag list🎀

This has been long awaited, I know everyone loves Orc!Bucky, me too honestly. Enjoy.

A colossal, herculean man loomed over you, he was built from slabs of muscles that shifted under his thick layers of green skin. His bulging forearms, decorated with tribal tattoos, half concealed by a pair of tanned leather bracers, lined with fur; the designs carved into the leather matched his ornate iron pauldrons, slightly covered by the reddish-brown pelt of a direwolf, and the only thing covering his lower half was a loin cloth attached to a metal belt adorned with his tribe’s insignia. His eyes narrowed in a scowl, but despite this you could see his golden eyes, with flecks of amber and a vertical slit for a pupil—reminiscent of a cat's eyes. They were trained on you, hunched between the cart and barrels “How unfortunate Tiny. Should have hid better than that.” His meaniscing tone sends a ripple of goosebumps across your skin, a scream bubbles up to your throat and dies there as he reaches out for you. You scramble away from his enormous juniper hand, the lighter skin of his palm filling your vision before he opts for grabbing you by the waist and pulling you out “Gods above I can smell chu ‘ittle one. You’re terrified out your tiny little brain, but you're still so wet for me. If you play nice, I won’t have to hurt chu.” You consider chomping down on the web of skin connecting his thumb and forefinger, but Orcs are known for their tough skin, you decide not to. You stare up at the monster before you through your long lashes, tears streaming down your cheeks “Good, Tiny human. My true name is too complicated for your kind to understand or pronounce, so you can call me Bucky. I am War chief of this clan of Orcs, it will do you well to listen or I’ll pass you to the others. They ain’t too kind to little tiny girls like chu.” He begins to walk with you, pushing you to his beefy chest like a mother holding a baby close, your hands grab for purchase at the direwolf pelt strung across his shoulders; the feeling of the fur in your hands and the familiar scent brings you solace as he carries you over to a large group of orcs, one with blonde hair turns towards Bucky smiling with his tusks on full display, you cower at the sight—you know exactly what those tusks can do, you’ve watched them tear people like parchment “Steve, I’m going to head back to camp with a small group. You stay here. Kill any survivors, pillage whatever’s left, return by nightfall.” The Orc named Steve nods and replies in a strange serious of grunts, to which Bucky also replies in the same manner. They he’s walking again, he stops infront of an orcish warhorse—specially breed to be taller and stronger than normal horses to with stand the sheer size of the orcs— then he climbs on with you held in one arm

“Where are we going?” You whisper near his ear

“To your new home ‘ittle one.”

The ride back to the camp isn’t a long one, you slept for most of it as your adrenaline finally died down or you’d fallen into a state of shock. At this point you had no idea. When you awoke you’d arrived at what he called ‘your new home’ There were countless Orcs, they barely used any of their troops to conquer your village. The feeling of hopelessness rose in you once again.

“‘ere we are, Pet. Home sweet home.” He got off the horse and handed the reins off to another orc to be taken care of. He spoke to the orc bostriously with enthusiasm, smiling so wide you thought one of his tusks would like your eye out. Then he strode off decisively through the thicket of tents. He was taking you home, to his home. Not yours. He burnt yours down, he murdered your family. You hated the fact that seeing him smile and talking so happily, despite you being unable to understand what he was saying, made you happy. His attitude was contagious.

You approached a tent that was much larger than the others, it was also dyed a faded black compared to the other plain tents. It had two lit torches on each side of the pegs keeping it up and on the tent door was the same insignia that was on his belt, but this was painted in red—the colour of blood which he was so accustomed to spilling. You had to hate him, you needed to hate him.

He pushed aside the cloth entrance revealing a very spacious tent decorated in a sporadic manner with a large table that had a map splayed on its surface, your eyes shot down to all the red markers on it. One was on your village. They had planned this and nobody knew, fresh tears welled up in your eyes and you bit your wobbling lip, but a whimper still slipped. “This is your new home princess,” he wiped the tears from your eyes with one of his thick green fingers “so don’t cry anymore. It’s all gonna be okay. If you listen, everything will be fine. Now,” he placed you on the ground and walked over to a pile of things in the corner. He turned to face you before pulling out a shotel from behind him, but this shotel was the largest one you’d ever seen; the blade was unbelievably sharp, it was obvious that he’d spent hours sharpening, cleaning and customising it. Your legs collapsed beneath you as he pointed the curved blade at you, the point resting below your chin. Tears leaked from your eyes like a flowing river, you let out a whine as he hoovered it so close to your skin that you could feel the coolness of the blade “Move and I’ll cleave your skull in half. Understood?” Your vision shook as you meet his steely glare

“Y-yes.” You blubbered, he removed the blade and pulled out a chair from the long oaken table. The chair was much larger than a normal chair, obviously hand made for orcs by orcs—no scratch that, handmade for him. The chair was even bigger than all the others, it was made for Bucky, it was made for the war chief who towered above even other orcs. He plopped down in it, the twine holding it together creaking under his substantial weight, and opened his legs slightly clapping his massive bejeweled green hands down on his muscular bulging thighs.

“Come ‘ere little one. Sit on my lap.” He commanded, spinning the shotel on its blade on the hard packed dirt next to him. When you sat frozen, on the floor, he raised the blade towards you “I know you ain’t deaf. I don’t like repeatin’ myself.” You pressed your hands either side of your thighs and pushed yourself to your feet, your legs shook as you stumbled over. He extended out a massive green hand, you took it noting how your hand could only wrap around two of his fingers. Your line of sight travelled down to his dick. It was huge. Straining against the thin fabric of his loincloth. Straining so much that you could see all its features; dark green with lighter sections of skin, ribbed, with a thick gold ring pierced through the thin skin just under the head. There was no way he’d fit.

He helped you climb onto him, practically pulling you up by your arm which was dwarfed in his grasp. You straddled his lap, sat right in front of his bulging cock. Once you were in place he undid the opulent belt keeping the loin cloth in place and pulled. With one swift movement the belt and the loin cloth were both removed and thrown to the ground. His member was now on full display; girthy, long and definitely not able to fit inside you. You paled at the sight of it throbbing and leaking “It won’t fit!” You cried, attempting to run. He grabbed your arm just before you fel to the ground and pulled you back in place. You struggled against him, floundering like a fish drowning on land “Please! Anything else! You’re gonna kill me!” His hand clasped around your face as he reached back with his free arm and came back with a hefty glass bottle filled with a shimmering clear liquid.

“Breath, Pet. I ain’t expecting it to fit in you without a little help, little one.” He uncorked it with one hand and finally removed his hand from your mouth, you relished in the woodsy scent. He poured a generous amount on his hand “Take yer clothes off. Or I’ll rip ‘em off.” He ordered sternly, you met his gaze. His cat eye pupils had blown wide, filled with lust and need. You obliged, stripping off your dirty, torn clothes that smelt heavily of smoke. You swallowed your vomit as you recollected the state of your village.

His huge green hand began slathering the liquid on your pussy, it was warm. The heat coming off of the orc had heated it in such a short period of time, your eyes met his cock again. The heat of it was slightly darker green with a bluish cast, his balls were heavy and full. Your mouth was almost watering. You were pulled from you from your blatant ogling from the sting of a finger being inserted inside you. You yelped, grabbing at his thick wrist with your small hands “It hurts!” You yowled, beating at his calloused palm with your fist, he began moving his finger and the pain slowly melted into pleasure. You hummed at the heat filling your belly “Mhmn.”

“You’re a virgin aren’t you little one, there’s blood.” He cooed, slipping another finger. Which your quivering hole gladly took. You nodded slowly, whimpering as he stretched you, scissoring his fingers “Were gonna fix that. The Oil is enchanted, it should help you be able to take me, it’s also an aphrodisiac.” His words swam in your mind becoming almost meaningless as you pushed back on his fingers until you met his rings at the base of his thick, lengthy fingers.

Suddenly he pulled his fingers out, you whimpered at the loss humping his thigh for friction. You needed more. You wanted Bucky in you “Buck. Want you in me.” You mewl, grinding your sensitive bud down on the thick skin of his thigh

“Gladly.” He lifts you as if you weigh nothing and holds you above his dick, smiling coyly at your lopped sided grin and hazy eyes before slamming you down on his fat cock. The pain momentarily breaks your gaze but then the overwhelming feeling of his humongous prick filling your insides. Your hands travel to the bulge in your stomach, running your hands over it. Marvelling at it as he thrusts in and out. The meaty slaps of Bucky bouncing you roughly up and down on his lap filled the tent, more likely than not the sound was spilling outside. You didn’t care, right now you didn’t have the liberty to think much at all with his fat cock muddling up your insides. Your tongue fell dumbly out your mouth as you dribbled mumbling and moaning with every harsh thrust “That’s it, Pet, go dumb on my massive Orc cock. Never gonna want a human after this, they can’t fill you up like an orc. How pathetic. You deserve an Orcs cock to bring you this. Much. Pleasure.” He punctuated his words with his thrusts, bashing your cervix each time. You threw your head back in a silent wail, digging your nails into his large pecs as you relished in the orgasm that wracked your body. Constricted his cock, drawing a deep, primal grunt from his core “Yes! Come! Come as many times as you want pet, soak my cock in your juices my little cockslut. Gonna get you pregnant, gonna paint you fucking tight little slut hole with my seed. Gonna watch you swell with my children. Take it.” He groaned slamming into you with a new found vigour, picking you up as he stood.

You barely even registered him laying you on the bed until he pushed back your knees, resting them near your ears. You thought it impossible but he dick managed to nestle itself even further inside of you. An electric shock ran through your body as you came again, the pleasure being tears to your eyes as his thrust became more erratic, more powerful. His face loomed above yours staring intensely into your eyes “Gonna make you a mother, Tiny. You want to be the mother of my children? You want to grow with my child? You want to birth My Legacy?” He asked, “Answer me.” He demanded pounded into your cunt, his balls smacking against your ass, twitching, as he pushed down on your bent knees.

“Yes! Make me a mommy!” You cried, squeezing around him as he came inside you, he continued to thrust as he shot ropes and ropes of cum into you. Your stomach swelling with the sheer amount of spend shooting from his spasming tip.

“Ah feels so fucking good. Look at you, your body can barely contain my cum.” He chuckled, huffing, sweat glistening on his forehead as he littered your reddened face, ruined with tears and spit with passionate open mouth kisses.

“Felt good, wanna nap.” You yawned, your body tremouring from the overstimulation, your clit puffy and sensitive as his pelvis pressed into you enrolling you completely, blocking out almost all the light in the tent.

A hearty chuckle emerges from him, the sound fills your ears making more slick drip from your cunt onto his cock still buried in your overflowing pussy “Oh, we ain’t done yet, Pet. Gotta make sure you’re nice and pregnant, gonna fuck ya till I make ya look pregnant; so everyone knows who you belong to, that I have claimed you and that they can never touch you. ‘Cause you’re gonna have my babies, I’ll keep you filled and wanton on my cock ‘cause we Orcs mate for life after all, Tiny, and I’ve chosen you to be the bearer of My legacy.”

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haleyhunwritess · 2 years

Text

Careful baby

Warnings: Mentions of spankings, ddlg/little reader, yelling, dark-ish fic

Summary: Little!reader refusing to take her medicine (on account of it being “icky”) until someone decides to threaten them with a spanking from a certain someone with a metal arm.

Pairings: Soft!Dark!Daddy!Steve x Little!Reader, Soft!Dark!Daddy!Bucky x Little!Reader

“Daddy no! no! no! I don’t need any medicine, it’s icky and I don’t like it!”

“Sweetheart, please just listen to me. It’ll make you feel tons better. It’ll get rid of all the icky feelings and then no more sickies for my little princess. Please, darling…just listen to Daddy this one time, okay?” Steve looked down at you sympathetically as you lay in your bed cuddled up with your favourite stuffies. It broke his heart to see you feeling this unwell, and even more now that you were crying over having to take some medicine.

You shake your head once again before rolling over and shoving your face in one of your pillows while lightly sobbing. The medicine tasted icky, and you already feel icky so you don’t want to feel any worse, why can’t your daddies understand that?

Steve sighs and puts down the medicine before sitting down on the bed next to you and slowly turning you to look at him “Babygirl…I didn’t wanna have to do this…if you don’t take your medicine then I’ll have to call your Dada home from work to make sure you take your medicine.”

Your eyes widen at the thought of your Dada coming home early from work just to give you your medicine. You knew he wouldn’t be impressed with your refusal to take your medication, however, you still couldn’t stand the idea of taking the bad-tasting medication and feeling even worse than you do right now. Starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, you reach for your paci that’s on the bedside table, but Steve grabs it before you can and quickly stands up.

“What’s it gonna be, babygirl? Should I grab the medicine or get the lotion ready instead?” Steve bites back a smirk when you look up at him with a confused expression. However, that confused expression is quickly replaced with a scared look when you notice him opening up the drawer filled with aftercare products that Steve and Bucky spoil you with after giving you an intense punishment. He pulls out a special cream that Bucky uses on you usually after using his metal arm for a long and harsh spanking.

“Daddy no…” you start to cry harder and make grabby hands for him as the tears are streaming down your face.

He quickly walks back over to you with a smile and picks you up before popping the paci in your mouth.

“Hmm so what do you think, babygirl? Should we give Dada a call?” He lightly bounced you in his arms while picking up his phone and dialing Bucky’s number before you could even answer him.

“Daddy no! I hab medicine! Pwease no call Dada! Pwease I pwomise I be good for Daddy!” you spit the paci out and start to cry harder, knowing that Bucky was going to be really upset with you now. All of a sudden, you start to cough uncontrollably as a result of all the crying, making Steve panic momentarily. He quickly puts his phone down, not bothering to hang up.

“Shh shhh…you’re okay sweetheart…shhh it’s okay Daddy is here.” He starts to rub your back gently while whispering sweet little nothings in your ear every now and then. You start to calm down slightly, but still scared of getting a punishment. You think back to when they first took you and how terribly quick they were to punish you for the smallest mistakes. The biggest one being your countless tries to leave the compound and talking about how much you miss your old life. You shiver slightly thinking back to that memory and quickly slip your thumb in your mouth.

“Darling, what did we say about putting your thumb in your mouth?” Steve lightly scolded you while grabbing another clean paci from the dresser and carefully replacing your thumb with it.

“Sowwy, Daddy…” you whisper quietly before starting to softly suck on the paci and resting your head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, princess. You’re still learning. Isn’t that right?” you quickly lift your head up to nod at him, then hesitantly point at the medication on your bedside table.

Steve walks back over to your bed, gently placing you down before picking up the medicine again. You try not to pout and wait for him to give you the medicine. Steve carefully poured some of the cough syrup into the small little cap before handing it over to you. You stare at the small cap for a minute, debating if the spanking might be worth waiting to take it. Steve sits down next to you and takes the medicine from you, before holding your hands down with one of his hands, and then gently encouraging you to take the medicine. You close your eyes and hold your nose before gulping it down, trying not to gag. He quickly hands you your bottle filled with water to wash it down.

“There we go, sweet girl. That wasn’t so hard now was it, babygirl?” Steve puts the medicine away and helps you lay back down before handing you your paci back. He gets up from the bed and leans down to give you a kiss on your forehead before walking out of the room to allow you to cry yourself to sleep.

A few hours later, you feel something cool on your arm, gently shaking you awake. You rub your eyes furiously before you realize a metal arm pulls your hands away from your eyes.

“Careful babydoll, wouldn’t want you to hurt those pretty eyes.”

You quickly open your eyes and realize Bucky is finally home, making you clutch your stuffie tightly.

“You know Steve always forgets to hang up the call before putting his phone down. He’s a bit silly sometimes huh? Is that why my babydoll was giving him so much trouble earlier?” you whimper lightly knowing where this is heading. You start to crawl back further away from him when you notice the special cream on the bedside table.

“Alright doll, you know the drill. How many spankings do you think are fair? Since you’re sick I don’t want to make you feel any worse, does 25 sound fair to you, love?”

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buckgasms · 2 years

Note

Bestie. Babe. What about dom mafia Bucky finds out innocent reader is actually a spy??? Or something like that??? Please omg I’ve been trying so hard to write something like this but literally I have nothing

Praying to my daddy and saviour Bucky Barnes that this is any good for you my sweet @bunnyscraft ❤️

This is my first time dipping a toe into the world of Dark!Bucky so I hope it's ok 🤞🏻 Bucky is narsty in this one but hopefully not so narsty that we don't still love him with our weak sappy hearts!

Warnings: Dom!Bucky, mean Bucky, bondage, overstim (always and forever), reader did a bad thing and now she's gotta face up to it 🙈 gun is mentioned but never used; spanking; spitting and a little bit of breath holding

Please don't read if Dark isn't your thing. I'm not responsible for your content consumption, you are sweetie ❤️

Requests are open

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He had been sitting on this revelation for a week now. It was almost like he was enjoying the pain of your betrayal. That's what Sam suggested after three days had passed since he broke the news of your double cross and Bucky had failed to act.

Maybe Sam was right? He should bring it up, but every time he had an opportunity he looked at your pretty doe eyes and decided against putting a bullet between them.

But no one betrays Bucky Barnes without suffering the consequences. You had to pay the price.

-----------------------🎀---------------------

You had received a text from Bucky, asking to join him in the little summerhouse in the gardens, he wanted you in a pretty little skirt and nothing else. You skipped along happily a familiar tingle in your tummy as you walked past the pool and into the echoey room.

"Hi Bucky" you said sweetly as he let you press a kiss to his cheek. He smiled and led you to a little chair in the middle of the room. "How are you Princess? You feeling ok today" he muttered as you sat and he clicked some restraints around your wrist, then your ankles. He pressed a kiss to your lips and you nodded, not able to stop shivering with excitement as he stepped away from you.

"You recognise that chair babygirl?" He said, leaning against the wall. You looked down and cringed when you saw old, dried blood on the restraints. "This is the naughty chair, for Daddy's enemies" you said, your brow furrowing in confusion.

"That's right baby, this chair is for people who have hurt me, do you understand?" You shook your head as your palms began to sweat. You realised Sam was in the room then and he passed Bucky a file.

In that file held all the evidence of your betrayal. Bucky dropped papers on your lap, with emails you had sent to his rival Brock, pictures of you meeting in various rendezvous, Brock's arm wrapped around your waist and you smiling up at him.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you jerked against the binds. "Bucky... Daddy.. it wasn't - isn't like that... Please let me explain" you sobbed as he stared at you, his jaw tensing in a rage you had never seen before.

He grabbed your face and squeezed until he was almost crushing your cheeks, "this picture was taken last week..." He held up an image of you and Brock at a museum, his hand pressed on your ass, claiming you. "And this message, sent only on Friday, right around the time of our little dinner date, remember baby? Where you told me how much you loved me?"

You cried out in pain, both from his hands and his words. "It's not like that, it's different, please Bucky-". His hand smacked across your cheek and you sobbed loudly, body rattling as you felt true fear pulsing through you.

"I'm your girl, I'm your girl, I do love you, I do" you whimpered over and over, trying to get him to see sense, to believe you. You loved him so much, things had just gotten out of hand, you didn't want Brock. If you could just explain...

He grabbed your face again, forcing you to look at him. "I don't think I believe you, little girl. Think you lie as easily as you squirt on my fat dick. But I know how to get you talking straight don't I? Know how to treat Brock's little whore just right huh? Until she does just what I say?" He hissed at you and you cried more, begging him for mercy, promising your loyalty.

"Bring me the gag, she doesn't need to speak yet and I don't wanna hear another fucking word" he snarled and Sam handed him your pink ball gag, a cruel reminder of all Bucky had given and all that was potentially about to be taken away.

----------------------🎀------------------------

Thanks to your skimpy attire you were totally at his mercy, something you had been looking forward to before this all began.

He did many of the things you would usually enjoy, but with all the rage and none of the love he usually had. Well perhaps that wasn't strictly true but the rage was definitely stronger.

He pressed a thick rubber cock into your pussy, thrusting it in and out as Sam wrapped his thick arm around your neck, minimising your supply of air, bringing the pleasure in your pussy to new heights. You flexed your fingers as the pressure built, but neither of them relented. You came, eyes rolling and a muffled scream behind your gag and spit drenched your chest. Bucky continued to thrust and he played with your nipples, pinching and pulling harshly at the sensitive skin. He landed slaps to them, to your cheeks and your thighs. He made you count on your fingers, every spank that landed on your aching skin. You lost count after 20, and watched as redness blossomed across your skin.

You stared at Bucky, your eyes praying for mercy, for him to relent. He locked eyes, then spat in your face, thrusting harder and deeper. You came again despite the sensitivity and you thrashed against the binds.

"Such a good little whore hmm? Never keep me waiting do you Princess?" You nodded and moaned at him, tears welling again. "Like being used huh? Like being trained into my little fucktoy?" You nodded again and he laughed. "Does Brock treat you like this? Does he treat you like I do?" You shook your head with vigour and sucked in a shaky breath.

"Let's ask him huh?"

You blinked away tears as Bucky and Sam stepped away from you. You watched as Bucky pulled out your burner phone and tapped on the screen, then snapped a picture of you. You heard the whoosh of it being sent away.

"While we wait for his reply let's get you to that special place in your head huh baby? The place where you can't lie to your daddy?"

You nodded, praying that you could give him the answer he wanted, that your stupid, stupid brain would be able to prove you were his girl. Not Brock's. Not Brock's. Not Brock's...

-----------------------🎀----------------------

It had been an hour. You had watched the little clock on the wall through blurry, tear filled eyes. Bucky had strapped a vibrator to you and he and Sam had left.

There was no escape, no relief, just endless buzzing, bringing you to peak after peak. It hurt, it ached and you cried and still you reached another peak.

You finally heard footsteps and Bucky walked in through the door, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, black trousers straining against his thick thighs. How you would kill to be sat on his lap, his best girl again.

He said nothing as he turned off the device and untied the gag. He hushed you as you began to babble nonsense at him. He sank two fingers into your mouth and let you suck, your mind foggy now, eager to please him. His thumb rubbed at your jaw, easing a little of the pain you felt.

Eventually he removed his fingers and dragged a chair to sit in front of you. "I'm gonna ask you now for the truth, and I swear to god baby, if you lie, I'll put a bullet between those beautiful eyes. You understand me?" To emphasise his point he brought out his gun, and rested it on your lap.

You nodded and leant into his hand as he brushed stray hair out of your face. Your glassy eyes focusing on his piercing blue ones. All you had to do was tell the truth, that was it.

"I want to know how this all started, how you ended up fucking me and Brock at the same time, tell me that sweet thing?"

You nodded and took a shuddering breath, throat aching from the crying and screams. "Was with him before you... Told me to trick you... Said you were bad and I would be helping him... Loved him then daddy... But not now..."

You whimpered and more tears came. He brushed them away and brought your face up to look at him again. "More baby, need to hear more..."

Breathing in again you pressed a soft kiss to his palm and continued. "At first it was easy, just told him little secrets. But then I realised... Loved you daddy, didn't want to trick you anymore. But I was scared. Scared of him and you. So I would see him... Take him some little secret that didn't seem to matter... Kept trying to tell him I didn't know anything, so he got angry. Had to... Had to be a bad girl... Didn't wanna daddy... Told me if I stopped he would tell you... Didn't want that...."

Bucky stood and walked around the room, rage pulsing through every vein. He fucking believed you. He had to, you couldn't lie to him when you were like this. You were his good girl after all.

Brock hadn't responded to the text and word had it, he'd gone underground. If anything that proved you were telling the truth. Brock could bully a silly thing like you, but he was no match for Bucky. He would leave you to take the blame and resurface unscathed months later.

Well Bucky had already sent Steve out to sort that problem. Brock would be dead by the end of the night. You were a different problem all together.

"I'm so sorry Daddy" you cried, your whimpers echoed round the room and your knees shook so hard his gun fell to the floor with a clatter the sound of it making you sob harder. Suddenly your wrists and ankles were free and he pulled you into his arms.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and clawed at his shirt, wiping your messy face into the expensive fabric. He pressed a kiss to your head as you continued to cry until you had nothing left but little hiccups and swollen eyes.

"Hush baby, I know you're sorry" he murmured, fingers running through your hair as his other hand ran soothingly along your leg. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a desperate kiss, his mouth quickly dominating yours. He kissed you hard, biting your lips, and pushing you until you were laid flat out on the cool floor.

He pulled away and hovered over you. His fingers traced over your lips, "who owns these lips baby?" You kissed his fingers and whispered, "you daddy." He repeated the action over your breasts and made his way to you ass and pussy. "Who does this cunt belong to princess?"

You shivered, aching for him, afraid of what might happen. "It's all your's daddy, only for you." You whined again as he unzipped his pants and pressed his cock into your aching hole. "Louder, slut, need everyone out there to hear it, so they know you can be trusted again, scream it little girl."

You obeyed, not really much choice about it. You clawed at his arm as he fucked you, any clarity you had was being eroded away as his cock filled you, creating a bulge in your stomach, with his unrelenting thrusts. "I'm gonna forgive you baby" he growled, "but things have changed now sweetheart, now you gotta make a fucking promise... And if you break that promise..." He punctuated his last sentence with deeper, harder thrusts that made your walls spasm almost painfully around him.

"Well let's say it'll be bad for you... You're mine now, just mine. Gonna keep that pussy filled, mouth stuffed, ass full. You ain't ever gonna know what day of the week it is, where you are, nothing. All you need to know is where your daddy's cock is. Understand me princess?"

You whined and writhed on his cock, desperate to escape the pressure but he didn't let you. "Do you hear me little slut? Do you understand?" You came hard and screamed your consent to his offer, feeling him fill you up to the brim. He still kept you tight on him as he pressed soft kisses to you forehead.

"Good girl, no more tears now, Daddy's got you, daddy's gonna keep you just like this." You nodded and let him kiss you more, returning his kisses, whispering "yes daddy...only yours daddy" in between his kisses.

You pushed at his shoulders, begging for relief, but he shushed you. "Told you princess, this is mine now, so be a good girl and keep still, daddy's gonna take care of you."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #masterlist #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x you #dark!bucky smut #mobster!bucky #mob!bucky

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nickfowlerrr · 2 years

Text

you can’t.

pairing: soft!dark bucky barnes x virgin!witch reader

warnings: 18+ only. noncon/dubcon, smut, pet names, talks of blood, talks of rituals and sacrifices, loss of virginity, crying, absolutely not canon. if i’ve missed anything please let me know!!

words: 4.9k

notes: canon? we don’t know her. this is my first attempt at a dark fic and it was absolutely inspired by that one episode of supernatural 💀 lol. i think i like this? and i hope you do too 💘 as always - feedback is both welcomed and appreciated!

This is a DARK fic!!! Please proceed with abundant caution.

“Here. You’ll need to take this,” Stark said as he handed you the vial that contained the black liquid. “Otherwise trying to go through with the sacrifice will send your powers into overdrive. They’ll do everything they can to keep you alive, which will inevitably end badly for anyone in close proximity to you.” It made sense. And you didn’t have any reason to think you would need your powers between then and now. You were safe. It was just you and Bucky at the compound tonight. Everyone else was either desperately trying to get a lead on Wanda or leaving to get things prepared for tomorrow night. So you took it and swallowed it down. It felt like blood sliding down your throat and the feeling served as a reminder that your story would end in blood. Just the way it started. Blood magic was powerful enough on its own - but blood magic being used by and running through a natural born witch - it was something else entirely. Your mother wasn’t a natural born- she was trained - forged. And when she had you, she didn’t know that you yourself were different. You had been born with magic being an innate ability, no forging required. But because your mother didn’t know, she had trained you in the most powerful magic she had known. Blood. It was a deeply intense form of magic and the power that it came with was unlike any of the other disciplines. You quickly became enchanted with the magic and it soon merged with your pure and natural abilities to create a form of magic unlike anything that had been seen before. The only force stronger than your own was that of the Scarlet Witch. You had heard stories of her from your mother. Of the myth that she was. And then you joined the Avengers and you met her. You quickly became close. Sharing your knowledge with each other, constantly trying to learn about your abilities. It was inevitable that you two would end up linked. After experimenting with blood magic bonding, you two had decided to try a spell. The bond you two naturally shared was like one of sisters, but the second you two enacted the spell it became more. It was like you could feel each other, and when you needed to find one another, you could. You could also transfer your magic through your blood bond, even call out to each other when you were in trouble. You knew one another like no one else. You were always there for one another. Until you weren’t. When Wanda lost everything, that included you. After the snap brought you back, you didn’t know what to do or where to go. You were weak - something had happened to you when you were snapped away, your mind was clouded and your powers seemingly depleted. Your blood bond with Wanda was apparently gone. It took you months to regain your powers and find your way back to the team. And by then, things had already gotten very much out of hand. Wanda had become, “a problem”, as Strange had put it. You and the team had spent the last four months trying to find her. And you all knew time was running out on Strange’s prophecy.

“You are the only one who would be able to stand a chance against her, Y/N. And only with blood magic. She is the Scarlet Witch. Anyone else going against her, it just wouldn’t be a fair fight. But you- using your magic- it might just even the playing field for us.”

You had thought your story would end in a fight. An all out battle with Wanda. There was no way you were going to win- you knew that. But you losing wasn’t the same as the team losing. If the team lost - the world lost. If you lost - well that distraction might be enough to edge closer to victory. The power you would unleash in death could very well be enough to pull off the impossible.

But with this ritual - you would know exactly where Wanda was. Exactly what she was doing. You would have the upper hand. This could be what you needed to get to Wanda before Strange’s prophecy could pass - before she went too far. If you could find her now - you could stop her without having to kill her. That was all that mattered to you. If you had to die so that the world could live, you were fine with that. And if you had to die so that Wanda could live, you would. She was like your sister. Of course you would. In a heartbeat. And so you were going to.

It called for a virgin sacrifice. Something you had chosen not to inform the team of until tonight - though you had suspected that Strange already knew. You were grateful that he respected you enough to let you disclose that information on your own. When you had finally told the team, they were, as you expected, adamantly against going through with it. After you explained your perspective, how giving yourself for the ritual could potentially save the entire world and Wanda herself - how your blood specifically could amplify the spell. This, your sacrifice, could save hundreds of thousands of lives. And though Steve and Bucky in particular were still against it, you had everyone else on your side. They didn’t all agree with your decision, but they respected it. Well, everyone but Bucky.

“Do you know how stupid this is? None of us know if this will work. We don’t know how far she’s gone. And even if she isn’t completely out of her mind when we find her, what makes any of you think she will listen to us now? Huh? She didn’t before,” Bucky had yelled at all of you.

“We weren’t there for her before.” You said sharply. “None of us. So we have to try. Because she deserves for us to try. Not just to save the world from her destruction - but to save her from herself. Her grief. It’s all she’s ever known and she deserves more than that. I won’t let her become the villain she’s been trying to fight her entire life -“

“And I won’t just let you kill yourself for her!” He shot back. All you could do was stare at him as his gaze bore into yours. Finally you tore your eyes away and looked to the ground.

“If this is what we have to do to get to her, then we’re gonna do it. I’ll do it.” You said, effectively making your point to everyone else in the room.

He still refused to have any part in getting the ritual done. Deciding instead to focus his efforts on trying to change your mind, because there was no way in hell he was going to lose you. And he knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t help but feel hurt that you would so willingly give your life away. As if you had nothing to live for. As if he meant nothing to you. And so his hurt twisted it’s way into rage as he continued to argue with you.

Even as half the team, being led by Steve, urgently went back to trying to discover any other way to find Wanda, any way to not have to go through with this ritual or at the very least to not make it fatal, and the other half led by Stark and Strange got to work getting all the other aspects of the ritual ready for the next night.

And so that’s how you found yourself left alone at the compound with a very upset Bucky. He was outraged, disgusted even, by the way everyone had seemed to let this go so easily. As if this wasn’t your life being given up. As if losing you wouldn’t be as tragic a loss as he knew it would be. And even after everyone had left, he didn’t back down in his argument. You two were going back and forth until you had finally had enough. You couldn’t keep letting him try and change your mind. A small part of you was afraid that maybe he just might. Of course you didn’t want to die. But you were willing to.

But with Bucky pleading with you not to do it, near begging you to not leave the team, to not leave him, you could feel your resolve starting to slip away. You needed to just get away.

“We’ll need you when we find her. And we can find her some other way, there has to be another way. If we get to her without you - it will have all been pointless anyway!” Bucky continued in his rant as you stood there, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He was making this so much harder than it had to be.

“If this works, you won’t need me.”

“I will always need you, y/n.”

You knew he’d be upset but you really didn’t imagine the fight he would put up for this - for you.

When you had finally found your way back home, back to the team, you and Bucky grew close rather quickly. There was an instant attraction, a pull to one another. Bucky was always there for you. Always made you feel safe. Taken care of, even. But it never developed into anything more, Bucky wouldn’t let it. “He’s scared,” Steve had said to you one night after having a talk with Bucky. “He really likes you, y/n. He’s just scared. He’s lost a lot in his life, ya know?”

“I get it. I just .. I don’t know, it seems like he doesn’t think he deserves to be happy. In any aspect of his life. And I just hope he knows that, whether it includes me or not, he deserves his happy ending, too. I mean, we all do. You included,” you intoned as your elbow nudged his and you nodded your head in the direction of Nat who was in the kitchen making dinner.

“Yeah,” he pondered. “Yeah, we all do, don’t we.” He smiled as he looked to Nat, who had turned just in time to see him staring and gave him her signature smirk.

“What are you two talking about?” Bucky asked as he snuck up on you from behind the couch.

“How are you always so quiet?” You questioned in response as you tilted your head back to look up at him standing behind you.

“I’m gonna go help Nat out in the kitchen,” Steve said as he excused himself.

Bucky walked around and took his seat next to you. “I know you know I heard that little conversation.”

“I know you know I know you heard,” you smiled at him. “And I mean it. You do deserve to be happy.”

“Who says I’m not happy?” He asked with a light smile. You just looked at him and smiled a tight smile, pressing play on the movie you had all agreed on watching that night.

Yeah, you were happy, too. But man, you thought, we could be happier. Together.

But You had resigned to just being his friend, because that was enough if it had to be. If this was as far as Bucky was willing to take your relationship, then it was better than not having him at all, you thought. You didn’t know, truly, how deeply Bucky felt for you. How serious you were to him. You were everything and he just couldn’t risk ruining it and losing you. So he was trying his best to take things slow with you and not come on too strong.

This entire situation changed everything for him, though. He didn’t care about coming on too strong anymore, he just needed to get you to see that you couldn’t just go. He couldn’t let you give your life away. He couldn’t lose you.

“This is our shot, Bucky. And if Strange is right, I’m probably gonna die either way. So if I’m dying a virgin, I mean, at least it’ll be for a reason,” You tried to joke. Though you knew he wouldn’t find it funny. Instead of waiting to hear his response, you turned around, walked out of the kitchen and retreated to your room.

You had one night left to yourself. You decided to change into something comfortable - your favorite pajamas would do- and settle in with your favorite movies while you planned on packing your things up to make it easier on everyone when they would inevitably have to clear your room. Your plans were swiftly interrupted by the sound of your door opening.

Having only just removed your jacket, you turned around in surprise and were startled to see the way Bucky’s face was contorted. He looks… pained? Conflicted. He’s obviously upset by your decision - but this seems something more. His eyes are dark and honestly - you feel a little scared as he lifted his head and his eyes meet yours.

“Bucky…” you nearly whisper.

“I won’t let you go through with this. Everyone else might be okay with this - justifying it because it’s ‘the noble thing’,” he scoffed at the recollection of the nights earlier arguments. “But it’s not. It’s nothing other than murder. You’re going to let them murder you, Y/N.” He was speaking roughly and low as he slowly approached you - all the while you were trying to cautiously back away from him. Trying to keep some space between you two.

It was an odd feeling trying to keep away from him. You loved Bucky. Normally you would do anything if it meant being around him- but right here, right now. All you wanted to do was get away. You need to get away, you realized as your back hit the wall. There wasn’t much you could do right now. Your powers were at the weakest they had ever been thanks to the serum Tony and Bruce gave you. And the look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine.

You didn’t know what he was going to do and though you were sure he wasn’t going to kill you - you were still afraid. This feeling was foreign. You had always felt safe with Bucky. Like no matter what, he would be there to protect you. He would do anything for you, anything to protect you.

Oh, god. He would do anything to protect you.

Anything.

You didn’t want to even think it. It seemed impossible. Like it was the last thing he could possibly be willing to do.

“Bucky, please. What are you doing?”

“You’re not giving me a choice here, Y/N.” He said, a hint of sadness in his voice as he stood just inches in front of you, brows furrowed.

“There’s always a choice, Bucky.”

“Then my choice is to not let you die.” He grit out as he backed up all the way up to the wall, your body lightly hitting it as he held you there.

He inched closer and you inhaled a sharp breath.

“I can’t lose you.” He spoke quietly, almost to himself, as he leaned his head down - his forehead pressed to yours as he closed his eyes.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know how to feel.

You had imagined plenty of times what it would be like to be with Bucky. It was no secret you had feelings for each other, but Bucky would never let anything happen. Though, you had been teased on multiple occasions by other members of the team about what they liked to call your “boyfriend without benefits” relationship with Bucky. He would certainly act as if you were together, but nothing physical ever happened - obviously.

So right now, with him being so close to you - you just didn’t know what to do.

And when his lips found yours - you swore you could feel every emotion he was going through. You could swear you knew his every thought in that moment.

He was angry. Scared. Frustrated. But mostly, and this is what worried you most, was the feeling of guilt that flooded the kiss. The pain.

And so that kiss confirmed what you had feared. Bucky wasn’t going to let you go through with it. He was determined to stop you. He was willing to do anything to keep you alive - even this.

As he continued his assault on your lips, you found yourself caught up in the feeling of him - something you had longed for for so long - and didn’t even register how compliant you were being. You couldn’t do this - you had to stop him. You began to struggle against him, trying to push him away.

“Bucky, stop. Please,” you got out through deep breaths as his lips left yours and began to trail down your face and neck as his hands grabbed your arms to keep your back against the wall and your chest to his.

“It’s okay,” he muttered against your neck. “You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

“Bucky you can’t do this. Please. You wouldn’t-“

“I would.” He growled. “To keep you safe- alive. I will.” He reasoned. “I have to.”

“Youre being selfish.” You bit out.

“Selfish?” He scoffed. “Maybe I am. After everything, I think I deserve to be a little selfish. I think I deserve a little happiness. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me? That I deserve my happy ending.” He pulled away to meet your eyes again. “Well that’s you. You’re my happy ending. Don’t you see that, haven’t I shown you that? You’re my everything, y/n. I need you,” he paused.

Looking deep into your watering eyes, he whispered, “I’m sorry,” before he tore your shirt off your body. The speed of his movements shocked you and you yelped at the action. He backed away slightly to start pulling your sweats down and it gave you the perfect opportunity to try and get away. You pushed yourself off the wall and dashed to the side of him, bounding towards the door. He was quick. Always so quick. He caught you in his arms as you struggled against him.

“Let me go!” You shouted as you continued to kick your legs in a desperate attempt to escape him as his arms held you firm to him, your back to his chest.

“I can’t,” he said in your ear.

“Please,” you quietly cried, “please Bucky.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N, you know that. You have to know that. I just. need. you. If this is what it takes to keep you, then it’s what I have to do. I know you’re not going to listen to me. This is the only way to stop you.”

“But you’ll be okay,” he promised, “it’ll be okay.” He continued as he brought you to your bed. He got your sweats off and left you stunned in your bra and underwear. You were frozen in place. Your mind was racing, trying to comprehend everything that was happening. Trying to figure out how you felt. You didn’t know. This was wrong, obviously. You had volunteered yourself to be the virgin sacrifice that the ritual needed in order to find Wanda - to save Wanda- and here you were about to have your virginity taken from you. But it was the man you loved. The one who promised to keep you safe. The one who you knew would never hurt you. It was Bucky. But still, you argued with yourself, it’s still wrong.

You could understand what Bucky had been saying, though. You could understand his reasoning. If you were being honest with yourself and it were Bucky trying to sacrifice himself to save someone else, you knew you would do anything and everything you could to stop him, too. You were at war with yourself and the noise in your head had successfully drowned out everything- including what had been happening right in front of you. As Bucky leaned down over you on the bed, you realized that he had removed his clothing and as his lips met your bare chest, you realized that he had removed the rest of what was covering you previously. You let out a small gasp at the feeling of him on you. It felt good. So good. How could this be so wrong when it feels like this? your brain tried to reason.

As his mouth trailed down lower you suddenly jolted and tried to sit up but his hands gripped your hips.

“Don’t make this hard, doll. Please. I know you’re scared but just let me. Let me make you feel good. Don’t think about anything else. Just focus on me. I know how long you’ve wanted this. I’ve wanted it to,”

“Not like this, please,” you whined, “Bucky, please! please, please, please, please,” you continued to cry as he gently kissed his way down your stomach until his mouth met your mound. You couldn’t hold in your moan as he sucked your clit into his mouth. The feeling was like nothing you had felt before. It was so different from the way your own fingers felt when you touched yourself. It was incredible. He began to lick you, his tongue moving from swirling your clit to trailing up and down your slit and making his way inside your tight, undeniably wet, hole. Your hands found their way into his hair and you pulled on him as he gripped your hips and moved you closer to him, his hands coming down and moving along from across the tops of your thighs. Moving his right hand, he inserted his pointer and middle finger into you while his tongue never stopped its motions. His left thumb then found your clit and you felt your walls tighten and squeeze around his fingers as your climax quickly approached.

“Bucky - uh- please,” you moaned as tears welled again in your eyes. You weren’t sure what you were pleading for. Still couldn’t decide if you wanted him. Of course you want him, your mind shot at you. It’s all you ever wanted. He’s all you ever wanted.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The conflict raging inside you became all too much. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t stop him- even if you wanted to. So why were you still fighting this. Your mind decided to finally quiet. You couldn’t think of anything as your orgasm overtook you. Your legs shook and tried to close on Buckys head but he didn’t let that phase him as he worked you through your high. Your fingers were still in his hair and you started mindlessly stroking his hair and massaging his scalp as you caught your breath.

You can’t fight him, you thought to yourself. He’s right. I just need to not think about anything else. There’s no point. This is gonna happen. It’s okay to give in. It’ll be okay. It’s Bucky, your mind tried to convince you, you’ll be okay.

Bucky’s groan pulled you out of your head and you looked down just in time to see him finally pull away from you.

“You’re okay,” he reassured you - and himself - as he stared at you with such longing and something akin to sorrow in his eyes. “Everything’s gonna be okay, doll. I promise,” he spoke as his hands softly massaged your thighs. He made his way back up your body until he was hovering over you. Your breaths were coming in quick and shallow as you tried to calm your racing heart. This was it. Bucky was about to take your virginity. There was no going back after this. Not just in terms of the ritual - but in your relationship. Things were never going to be the same after this. You weren’t going to be the same after this.

Bucky leaned down on top of you and met your lips in a tender kiss. It felt like an apology. Like he was trying to get across how he had wanted this to go. Soft and sweet. Gentle and caring. How it should have been. How he had imagined it. He felt terrible. He knew he had scared you, forced you. But he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He couldn’t fathom the idea of losing you. Especially for something that wasn’t a guarantee. He wouldn’t do it.

He lowered himself down closer to your body, and your tears began to fall anew as you felt him hard against you. This wasn’t right and you were scared. What would the consequences of this be? You couldn’t even begin to imagine. And that wasn’t the only thing that scared you. Would it hurt? As you took a chance and glanced down to where you felt Bucky against you, you whimpered and decided that, yeah, it probably would.

Bucky shushed you as you whimpered and cried. Trying his best to soothe you as he held himself up on his right arm next to your head, his left hand caressed up and down your sides. He dropped his head to the crook of your neck and left light kisses as he whispered sweet nothings trying to distract you.

“Ah-uh-“ you whined through your grit teeth as you felt the tip of him slowly push into you, your hands finding and gripping his biceps.

“Shhh. I know it hurts, sweetheart, I know. I’m sorry. Just breathe. I got you, baby. I got you. It’ll feel good soon, I promise. Just trust me,” he spoke, voice tight, as he continued to push his cock into you. He kissed away your tears that were falling down your face. Once he was fully inside you, he gave you time to adjust to his intrusion, all the while letting out soft moans and groans at the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around him. He felt you squeeze him and as your hips bucked up without much thought from you, he slowly started to move in and out of you, finding the perfect rhythm as your mouth fell open and you gasped and moaned lowly. He knew it was wrong, but the second he entered you - he felt relief like he never knew. No matter what happened after that, he knew you wouldn’t be able to give yourself for the ritual. You wouldn’t be able to sacrifice yourself. You wouldn’t be able to leave him. And though the anxiety he had been drowning in had left - he was now left with feelings of shame and guilt. He had wanted you for so long - had imagined exactly how it would be. This wasn’t it. He didn’t want to take from you. He had wanted you to give yourself to him freely. If the circumstances had been different , if you hadn’t had been talking about killing yourself for some insane ritual- he would have waited. It would have been perfect. But the circumstances weren’t different and here you found yourselves. It might not have been how he imagined, but it was still you. He still had you. That’s all that really mattered. That’s all he could focus on for now. You and those soft broken noises that left you with his every thrust. The way your hands grabbed at his body, desperately trying to bring him closer to you as you continued to cry.

“I love you, y/n. I need you to know. I’m sorry. I love you,” he panted out as his eyes bore into yours. He quickened his pace, feeling himself inch closer to his climax as you began to tighten around him once again.

“Please,” you begged as you stared back at him, desperate. You were so close, and you knew he must be too.

Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck and you pulled him into an intense and passionate kiss. “I know,” you whispered to him as you pulled away. “I love you,” you said through more tears, holding onto him for dear life. Nuzzling your face into his neck as his fingers found your clit and began to rub you in small, tight circles. Bucky groaned in your ear and you felt him come inside you. Every nerve ending in your body suddenly lit up as you came with him. It wasn’t just your orgasm, though. You also felt a huge surge of power that you had never experienced before. The breath seemed to be sucked out of you as your eyes light up red. In your mind's eye, you saw her. She was in a cabin - it looked like one of the old safe houses you guys had used a while back - before everything went down. She was sitting on the couch - staring at a book closed on the table in front of her. She was crying. You could see it all. You could feel it all. And just as quickly as it came - the vision had gone. Your eyes returned to their normal color and you sucked in a greedy breath as you found yourself staring into Bucky’s terrified eyes as he grabbed you in his arms. You looked to your hands and successfully attempted to ignite your magic. The black glow emitted from your hands easily and the power you had felt when you orgasmed seemed to have stayed with you. You’d never felt so good. So potent. It was incredible.

“Y/n?” he asked, shaking you gently.

“I know where she is,” you breathed. “We need to go. Now.”

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