#dark!bucky barnes x oc
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-
#ask kai#anon love#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#winter soldier#winter soldier smut#dark!bucky barnes x reader#dark!bucky barnes#dark!bucky x you#dark!bucky x reader#dark!bucky smut#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barns x reader#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky barns imagine#bucky barns x y/n#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x you#winter soldier x y/n
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𝗕𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗧𝗼 𝗬𝗼𝘂
pairing: dark mob!bucky barnes x stewardess!reader
concept: Like clouds dancing in the air giving the setting sun a reason to live, that is how you came into his life.
word count: 2k
warnings: possessive Bucky, dark Bucky, dubcon/noncon (to be safe on the kidnapp-ing, drug—ing), desire,lust, p— in-—v, mile high club, man—ipulation mature themes, edging, fingering, nickname ──(Princess, Sweetheart)
a/n: Written for @the-slumberparty April Mob AU Challenge. In the midst of my muse going off and on, I finally received the muse to finish this story from the writing fairies to submit it on the last day.
The prompt: “If it wasn’t meant to be, you wouldn’t fit me so perfectly.”
lovely beta:@lunarbuck & @targaryenvampireslayer
line divider by @s-tarksintern ──the cute gif/moodboard made by me
Masterlist
Despite the distance, I can still sense you.
What a waste of time.
You feel your heart sink as you realize you have been stood up. You try to distract yourself by focusing on the flickering candlelight on the table and taking a deep breath.
It's as if the radiant flame is a reminder of your feelings for him, a reminder that won't go away no matter how difficult the situation gets.
His deep crimson eyes, burning intensely, ran wild during lustful nights and burned so hard every day you were with him.
This light was visible only to you.
His possessiveness and jealousy, however, were like melting wax into molten tears of your fears as you fled. That night, when you left him, it ached for you, but you knew it was time to leave. You left, never looking back, never feeling his piercing light again. His hold on you was more than physical; it was as if he treated you as if you were his property and wanted whatever he thought best for you, regardless of what you wanted.
You are finally free.
Fresh air is the most beneficial thing for you. You have to venture into a new atmosphere, experience a new life, and encounter a new man.
Recharge from him and getting a fresh beginning.
The waiter comes with a drink.
"On the house. He doesn't deserve you for standing you up."
You had the feeling that the restaurant staff were watching you and were sorry your date had not arrived. You’d been holding on to the idea that he was stuck at work for almost two hours but after sitting at the table alone and stupid, you’re giving up hope.
You quickly down the drink, hoping it will give you some relief from the humiliation and arduous wait.
“So much for romance,” you mutter into the glass.
"Maybe your man is nearby," the waiter says softly in fear as you stare at him in confusion.
Your attention is drawn to the door as he points to it.
A stone wall surrounds you, and suddenly, the air is thick as syrup.
It feels like your body is drained, your arms and hands are heavy, and every movement feels like a struggle, as you grasp the table, feeling numb. There he stands, him, with a bouquet of roses in his hand. A smirk escapes his lips as fire returns to the room.
But you keep seeing blurry figures, hoarse voices, and the sensation that your body is swallowing. The room looks like a slow-moving carnivorous scene. Air around you feels heavy and thick, as if it is tightly wrapped around you, suffocating you.
As if your body is turning to stone, you feel helpless, but a touch brings a sliver of reality when blue ocean eyes and “You can’t be taking free drinks from a stranger, Sweetheart. Just sleep and it will be okay.” Fingers stroke your cheek and you keep your eyes open.
“There is no escape.” He kisses you on the forehead, and you see darkness.
Your eyes only belong to him and he looks forward to seeing them again
It is only when you see his shadows and feel the beating of your heart that you know where you were.
Though you want to run, you return to him by the hand of the universe. In his hands.
A smirk appears on his face. “Hello, Lovebug. Our paths cross again. I want to know why you ran from me. Nobody, not even you, runs from me." His deep voice carries anger while his eyes focus on you.
“Where am I?”
You see him stare down at you and tap his glass of Scotch, but you realize you are not at his house but on his private jet. In the midst of the peaceful flight across the clouds, you can sense the jet moving peacefully.
But you are next to the darkest cloud of the world.
There is only one dark king in the world of mobs, Bucky Barnes.
You can feel yourself being pulled into darkness, unsure of what the future holds. “Fuck you.” You take his glass and throw it across the plane.
You slap him hard across the face, causing his head to snap to the side. The sound of the slap echoes throughout the small plane.
His eyes suddenly sparkle with rage as he pushes you back against the jet's cabin.
As you stare at his lips, he licks them.
This is the end for you, and you know it.
His touch is electrifying, and he seems to sense it. With an inviting smirk, he leans in closer, leaving you with no doubt as to his intentions.
He will make sure your words are moans for his name with a single touch
He reaches down and pulls up your dress, then slowly runs to your underwear. His fingers glide through your pussy. You can feel your heart beating faster as his touch enthralls you, as he brings you to the edge of pleasure. His eyes are dark and lustful, and he whispers, "I know she's ready for more. Let's make her happy, the king is home." Keeping his thumb firmly pressed against your most intimate area, he rubs it back and forth rhythmically, and you surrender to his words and the touch of his fingers.
He slides two thick fingers deep into your pussy, and you whimper. "Don't tell me you don't want me," he growls, leans in and bites your bottom lip, as his other hand grips your throat, fingers pumping you hard.
He aggressively takes your lips. His body shakes and he collapses onto you, exhausted. His breath is hot in your ear as he whispers your name. His tongue slides through your mouth as your whole body melts against him. He breaks the kiss and he looks down at you with a satisfied smirk.
His body is trembling, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.
His hard body presses against yours while he moans.
He adds another finger to your pussy and your eyes roll back. His touch sends electric pleasure waves through your body. His growl echoes the intensity of those feelings coursing through your body. "I will give you more so you know you are mine." His fingers send you over the edge, your moans growing louder in the room.
Biting your lip and trying to stay upright, you roll your eyes back in your head.
Like clouds dancing in the air giving the setting sun a reason to live, that is how you came into his life.
The stewardess of his private jet bandaged the shallow cut on his arm in silence when he won a fight and was on his way home. A sense of hope and possibility was brought by your unexpected arrival. He was given a glass of bourbon by you to ease the pain, but all he wanted was to feel the touch of your hands on his skin to soothe the wound. The sun shined through the plane that day as you flew in the air, he kissed you on the lips to claim you as his.
The world was in his hands in every aspect, and even the air obeyed him, so there was no place for him to hide. Even though you attempted to run from the lifestyle, his hands were visible on your skin every second of the day and you were his.
In this moment when you know he is tracing what is his, you want him to trace more.
Your body moans at his touch.
You are left utterly frustrated when he suddenly draws his fingers from you.
You want to scream, but the sound never escapes your lips. He is playing a game, and you are on the verge of losing badly. Your breathing is heavy, and your eyes sting with tears yet to fall. In this moment, you feel trapped by overwhelming sensations and powerlessness.
A soft whispered apology graced your lips. "I didn't mean to leave you. I needed air."
With his back to you, Bucky smirks in response to your unease, none of which he wants you to feel. Taking off his suit jacket, he turns to you as he removes his tie, unbuttons his shirt, and slowly rolls up his sleeves.
"Come here," he whispers softly.
You stand, weighing your options, knowing you have none, since he is always a step ahead, forcing you to bend your knees to him. There is nowhere to hide or scream. He seems unimpressed after you take a few steps to ease up under his obedience.
“Come here now,” he says harshly. He is not backing down, and his tone makes it clear that you have no choice but to obey his order. It is unusual for him to repeat himself, and his eyes are burning.
You obey, not wanting to anger him further. He sneers as you walk over, your heart beating wildly. He grabs your arm and pulls you closer, his breath hot on your face.
"I'm going to give you two options, baby," he growls. "You can take my cock, or you can cry while I make you take it."
Bucky has everything in his life, from power to his girl.
He ignites my flame once again with his words
Your pussy takes him in as he grinds his hips against you. His breathing becomes heavier as he takes you in. Every movement is torture and ecstasy simultaneously. His gaze is locked on you and he moves closer to deepening the connection between you and him. He feels like there's no one else in this world, but the two of you. He has been under his spell since the moment he laid eyes on you.
"Don't you need me, Princess?" he whispers softly, grabbing your jaw. But you can’t answer. "Answer me, baby," he says in a low, growling voice as he thrusts inside you slowly. "Or I will not let you come all fucking night!"
Your body burns and you know he will keep his promise, making your suffering even worse. You are his to take. You whisper, "I need it," into the air.
“Yes,” he growls again as your flesh yields. "You are..." He tightens his fingers around yours as he grinds against you. "Mine." He thrust faster and harder. In. Out. Faster. Stronger. The thrill of his body thumping into you was apparent in every thrust.
"If it wasn't meant to be, you wouldn't fit me so perfectly. Look at our movement as one, darling." His breathing is heavy and ragged as he pushes himself in deeper, claiming every inch of your body.
His words, touch, and excited expression make you lose your breath.
He whispers darkly, "Your pussy is so happy to see me." His movements are precise and calculated, and you arch your back and wrap your legs around him to push him closer with each thrust.
You can feel the pleasure building up as your orgasm is quickly approaching. Finally, you reach the peak as you tremble and moan.
Your freedom from him slips away from you.
Once again, you have crossed a dangerous, fine line, as Bucky said, you have nowhere to run. You have no choice but to take on the consequences of your actions. You watch the clouds move across the sky as you move with him in rhythm, knowing that no land can hide you.
Your voice echoes his name, and they remain until the end of time
#navy and roo's sleepover#dark mob!bucky barnes x stewardess!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#dark bucky barnes#dark bucky barnes x you#mob bucky au#mob bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x woc!reader#bucky barnes x female oc#bucky barnes x poc!reader#bucky barnes x latina!reader#sebastian stan characters#sebastian stan x reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#mob Bucky Barnes x woc reader#mafia bucky barnes#mafia!bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barns x y/n#bucky barns x reader#bucky barns fanfiction
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PLEASE!! I need fics rec for all of these! Especially the Convict. Please be multi Chapter fics.
It even can be Steve in these situations instead of Bucky I don’t mind.
*Photos From Pinterest
I’m currently reading Blood Moon Rising on AO3 by Sarahyellow.
It’s a A/B/O prison story where Bucky’s the convict and pre serum Steve is the prison counselor…I think. A riot breaks out and Bucky takes Steve hostage. 5/8 Chapters are up so far.
#marvel#bucky barnes#dark bucky barnes#marvel cinematic universe#dark bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x reader#mafia bucky barnes#bucky barnes x original female character#bucky barnes x oc#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky x reader#bucky x you#Bucky#dark steve rogers x reader#dark steve rogers#steve rogers x bucky barnes#stucky#steve x bucky#dark Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers
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📖Make it Stick: Pt. 3 The Knight
Rating: Explicit
Chapter Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Bucky x ofc x Steve
Word Count: 3195
Tags: dark!fic, mob/mafia au, mob!Bucky, mob!Steve, dubcon/noncon, sexual coercion, half-sibling incest, m/f/m, non-con drug use, mentions of torture (non graphic), double penetration, forced tattooing, forced orgasms, enemies to lovers
Summary: When his babygirl—his sweet pea, little one, puppy ... half-sister—is recaptured after her latest attempt at running away, Bucky makes a power play in front of the entire Bratva to remind her exactly who she belongs to.
Dark and smutty content below the break. Consume responsibly.
Wait! I haven't read part 1, part 2!
“Nnn, pl-please…”
Her gasp is hardly audible this time, she’s so out of breath.
Panting from the way the second orgasm’s just ripped through her. And she’s crying still, but only just. Not like before. Because now the pleasure’s overtaken most of the anger, all of the fear, and even some of the humiliation. Bucky pulls his hands from her and delicately eases her panties back into place, smooths her little slip of a dress out for her. He looks up from his spot on the floor.
Her chest heaves with her breathing, the underside of her breasts—beautiful and natural under the silk—on full display for Bucky from this angle. And, Christ, her nipples are pebbled up, just begging for attention. Bucky sees Steve refixing his hold on her waist to support her because she’s gone so slack. She’s shaking against him, his body practically the only thing keeping her vertical at this point.
Inside his pants, Bucky is … uncomfortable. He slowly pushes up from where he’s been kneeling in front of her, coming back to stand at his full height and crowd in close again. He cages her between his body and Steve’s, hands landing on her waist right alongside Steve’s own. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, mockingly tender. “Don’t you want to say thank you for your orgasm?” He leans in so that the words are whispered against the side of her head. He’s staring at Steve as he says it, and when Lena’s mortified, overwhelmed little whimper comes in response, he doesn’t miss how Steve’s mouth twitches at the corner. Steve likes to play the white knight—and maybe he sort of is, compared to Bucky, but even still, he’s no sweetheart. And he’s enjoying the heck out of this. “Are you hard?” Bucky whispers, and he feels his sweet puppy’s body stiffen between them as she figures out who he’s talking to.
“You have to ask?” Steve answers, the rumble of his voice no doubt felt against Polina’s back. She makes another little outraged cry when Steve presses forward, driving his erection against her backside and pushing her more tightly up against Bucky.
Bucky, who helpfully slots his thigh back between her legs. She shivers as her sex is pressed up against him, going stock still to avoid any stimulation. Bucky coos down at her. He lets go of her waist and cups her face with one hand, tucking her hair behind her ear with the other. “Aw, princess,” he murmurs. “You sensitive now? Hm?”
She sniffles and nods her head. She’s been much more forthcoming ever since the suppository and the pill worked their way into her system. Behind the glossy sheen of her tears, her pupils are even wider and darker than Steve’s. It’s hardly taken any work at all to get her to come twice for him, she’s so keyed up.
Bucky tuts lovingly and brings the still buzzing vibrator up in front of her face. He twists the base, turning it off. Lena’s whole body slumps between them with relief, and Bucky chuckles. “Don’t get too excited. This might not be over for you.”
“W-what …” she swallows dryly. “What do you mean?”
“You still have a choice to make.” Bucky taps the little bullet vibrator against her lips. “Open.” She clamps her mouth shut stubbornly, so Bucky shrugs and rubs it over her instead, smearing her own release onto her lips. He leans in and slots his mouth over hers, licking the taste of her right back. “Mmm,” he hums. “Somebody’s been drinking their pineapple juice.”
She’s glowering at him when he pulls back. Bucky licks his lips like he’s savoring the last taste of a fatty meal. He can tell from the look on her face that he’s actually right: she has been drinking it. He feels a rush of fondness mixed with anger come at that—Fond, because it’s proof that she takes even his smallest teachings to heart.
“No, seriously. That’s why I have a glass each morning. It makes cum taste sweeter. … Pussy, too.”
Anger, because it’s not him she’s been drinking it for.
He forces the latter emotion away with a deep breath and a long exhale. He doesn’t have to be angry, because nobody but him is ever going to taste that pussy again. … Well, almost nobody but him. “Okay, little one,” he sighs. “Time to make a choice.” He reaches around her and tucks the vibe back into Steve’s pocket. Then he looks down and meets her gaze.
Her pretty blue eyes are wide but dazed, high from the drugs coursing through her system. Bucky smiles and cups her face with both hands. She’s so fucking beautiful, with her round little face and plush lips, her pretty blue eyes. They’re near arctic in color—closer to Steve’s cornflower blue than Bucky’s own muddled blue-grey. Sharp and clear, like ice underwater, and positively gorgeous when they’re crying.
Lena sniffles and Bucky’s heart twinges with affection. He leans in and kisses her cheeks, cleaning up her tears. “You need to listen to me now, Polina,” he murmurs, feeling her shudder underneath his touch. “Are you listening?”
She whines a little, not able to give up completely on her stubbornness, even now. Bucky loves her so goddamn much. She tries to squirm in their hold again, but as soon as her over sensitized clit bumps Bucky’s thigh, she’s calming back down. “What?” she asks quietly, sniffling and trying to put on a stiff upper lip. It’s cute.
“It’s up to you, how this goes,” Bucky tells her. He looks over to his right and catches the eye of one of the widows. It’s Belova. He jerks his head for her to go and get the supplies that are waiting in the wings. She disappears and reappears with a rolling tray table of tattoo supplies. “This,” he says to Lena, “is what’s happening.”
She squints in confusion at it for a second or two—the tray of gauze and ointment, inks and gloves and gun—before her eyes register the stencil and read it … and go wide in realization. She jerks in their hold, thrashing, tossing her head back against Steve’s chest in another vain attempt to hurt him. “No!” she huffs, the sound breaking into a pitiful whimper at the end, despite her bravery. “No, you can’t!”
Bucky waits her out, and sure enough, her little tantrum dies down. She cries, and he wipes those tears away, too. “Shh,” he soothes. “It’s not so bad.”
“It is!” she cries. “I hate you. I hate you!”
“You’re a smart girl, Lena. You can’t tell me you didn’t always know you’d wind up here.” He tilts her chin up when she refuses to look at him. Her tearful, angry eyes meet his, and he offers her a tender smile. He gives her another kiss, just a peck on the lips, this time. “I always get what I want, sora mica,” he murmurs, right against her lips.
Little sister.
She shudders underneath his touch but doesn’t shirk away, and Bucky preens because he knows the war that’s going on in her head right now, even if she’ll never admit to it. Revulsion, mixed with lust, and darkness, and something too close for comfort to love. It’s what he used to feel, back before he decided to give up on conventional morality altogether. Poor little Lena, though, he thinks sadly. She hasn’t gotten there yet. Oh well, she’s young, she’ll learn.
“Now,” he tells her, thumbing over the familial cleft in her chin. “You have two choices, sweet pea. You ready to listen to ‘em?”
She grits her teeth and purses her lips in an angry little moue, stubborn thing, though she capitulates when Bucky tightens his grip on her chin. “Yes,” she whispers tightly.
Bucky smiles. “Okay. Now, two things are happening, no matter what,” he says, raising a warning eyebrow at her. “You’re getting this tattooed on your body … and Gleb back there is going for a long swim in the Hudson.” He waits her out while she throws another hissy fit over that, tears leaking and eyes burning up at him. Bucky sighs and looks off to the side until it’s over. Then, when she’s slumped back against Steve again, all tuckered out, he continues, “If you hold still like a good girl, I won’t take your dress off in front of all these people, won’t force any more orgasms outta you down here where everyone can see. And Gleb’ll get wheeled off to his morphine and an easy death. No torture, just the widow’s bite—lickety-split, no fuss-no muss.”
He watches as her eyes flare and her face crumples with suppressed emotion. She composes herself faster this time, though, and he continues softly, drawing her lip down with his thumb. “But, if you make things difficult? I’ll have you squirting all over this floor before I knock you out and ink you while you’re unconscious. And Gleb will have …” he looks off to the side, as if trying to parse out his words, “... mmm, he’ll have a very stressful weekend.” He tilts his head and narrows his eyes, squeezing her chin sternly enough that it smooshes her cheeks the barest bit. “Are you gonna be good?”
She looks torn for a second or two, but then her eyes slip closed in defeat. In Bucky’s hand, she gives the tiniest of nods.
Bucky’s pleased, but he wants more from her. “Tell me,” he commands. “You’re gonna hold nice and still?”
She sniffles and nods again. “Yes,” she breathes. “I’ll hold s-still. I’ll … I’ll be good.”
Her meek response satisfies him. Feeling a sudden wash of tenderness towards her, he leans down and presses their foreheads together and whispers, “Thank you, little one. You know how I hate to see you struggle.”
She shivers against him but doesn’t throw out any bratty quip. She keeps her eyes down, avoidant. Sighing, Bucky pulls back and steps aside to have a word with Belova. He tells her his plans for Gleb, and she gives a sharp nod and heads off to handle it. Bucky knows then that he can put the idiot man from his mind for good. The widows will more than take care of him.
Bucky returns to Steve and Lena, ready to get to work. Really, he’d prefer Natasha to be the one doing this. Bucky’s no amateur with the gun, but he’s not as good as she is. Oh well. He has a steady hand, and the design is extremely simple. Just that one phrase, in cyrillic:
собственность дракона.
Translated roughly, it means: Property of the Dragon.
“Steve,” Bucky says. “Sit with her on the bench. It’ll help keep her calm.”
Along with the cart of tattoo supplies, a rolling stool, a bench, and a padded armrest have been brought over from the Red Room. Steve all but lifts Lena and brings her over there, straddling the bench first before pulling her to straddle it in front of him. Bucky goes about setting up, snapping on a pair of black vinyl gloves while Steve wraps his arms around Lena’s waist and murmurs quietly into her ear. Bucky smiles at the pair of them. Steve cares about Polina, too, has known her for almost a decade, and he’s always had a knack for calming her down. A good thing, since Bucky’s so naturally gifted at riling her up.
He sits on the stool and scoots over to them. Lena watches him warily. Steve’s used both his and Bucky’s discarded ties to bind her arm down at the wrist and at the bend of her elbow, in case she gets second thoughts about her promise of good behavior. Bucky’s mouth quirks at the ingenuity, and his dick twitches at the optics. He’ll have to take a picture, one he’s got the ink in. A shot of her arm; reddened and bleeding with his mark, and his and Steve’s neckties framing it. Fuck, he might jerk off to it sometime.
He spends a minute getting the ink prepared, and then he carefully cleans her inner forearm and applies the stencil. It’s small but long, stretching almost the full length between the ties. It’ll take a good hour or more in its entirety, but Bucky isn’t a sadist: His little one has been through a lot, and they’ve got a long night ahead of them once they take her upstairs. Bucky wants that time to be spent mostly in pleasure, not pain. They’ll just do the outline, for now.
Lena whimpers when the paper peels back from her skin, revealing the design left behind. “Bucky,” she pleads, though one look up at him and her begging stalls. Bucky gives her a grim, apologetic look, and she knows. She knows she’s not getting out of this. She whines lowly and turns her face into Steve’s shoulder.
“Shhh,” he soothes her, his big arms wrapped tightly around her waist, comforting and restraining all at once. “You’ll be fine, hon. This is how it has to be.”
Bucky settles himself and the gun, then turns it on. Soon, the buzzing fills the small space between the three of them. In the background there’s still the noise of the club: music, chatter, bodies moving around. But in their little corner in the back, it almost feels private now that they’re centered around what Bucky’s about to do to her. “Okay, malyshka,” he murmurs, waiting until he’s got her full attention. “Watch the gun. Don’t want you jerking around in surprise.”
He’s a little taken aback by the emotions that hit, as he brings the needle down and starts inking her for the first time. He’s marking her permanently, branding her as his in a way that will never wash off, and from which she can never escape. And despite her tears and the ties binding her arm down, she is sitting there for him, allowing it. That goes straight to Bucky’s cock as sure as anything else he’s ever done to her, and he spends the rest of the session focusing on each line and curve, putting the red ink underneath her skin and trying to work out what it is that’s twisting up in his gut so bad. There’s lust and possessiveness, that much he expected, but there’s also a certain amount of … melancholy? Maybe. Whatever it is, it’s there too. A feeling of resolution, of an era coming to an end. Arousing and yet oddly bittersweet.
Lena’s fist is already clenched when he starts, but he can see her body stiffening further as the burn of the needle really sets in. Her arm flexes and her fingers curl harder into her palm, the veins popping against the strained lock of her inner elbow. Steve keeps up a gentle litany of praise and reassurance in her ear, half of which Bucky hears and half of which he misses due to his own focus on the gun. He’d love to take Steve’s place, be the one to hold her and comfort her through this, but that’s just not possible because he simply doesn’t trust anyone else to do the work.
He’s even glad that Natasha refused to do it, at this point. Because this isn’t just any tattoo. It’s personal and intimate. A promise as good as any wedding ring. Probably better-than, in the fidelity it’ll enforce. Not on Lena’s part, poor thing, but on the part of any man who might dare to entertain the idea of an affair with her. One look at her arm, and that idea would go straight up in smoke. These red words are branding her for life, in more ways than one. It’s only right that Bucky be the one to do it.
“Almost done,” he murmurs when he’s finishing up at her wrist. It’s the most painful area, and he regrets saving it for last. But his girl does beautifully and keeps relatively still, sometimes hissing or whining in pain but never asking for a break, and never twitching enough to throw Bucky off course. He finishes the outline and sits back, setting the gun aide on the cart and reaching for the salve. He smiles at his little one, who by now has stopped crying. “Good job, sweet pea,” he praises softly.
Her defenses are down from having all of her focus on something other than him for so long. She only blushes a little when he uses the nickname, and says nothing snarky back. Bucky’s heart pulls with it. In Steve’s lap, she watches as Bucky uses a tongue depressor to apply the salve in long, smooth strokes over the raw areas. She blinks at her arm like she’s fully waking from a dream. “... That’s it?” she asks, sounding surprised, maybe even disappointed—though that’s probably just Bucky’s wishful thinking.
“For now,” he tells her, bringing out the non-stick pads and adhesive wrap. He’s giving her all the aftercare that he’s neglected on himself—already the back of his neck and shoulders feels tight and unpleasant, and he doesn’t want the same for her. Steve pulls the ties loose to release her arm, and Bucky explains, “You have delicate skin, sweetheart. We’ll let this heal, fill it in another time. Add some other design elements, if you want.” He catches her look of surprise and smiles, then looks away before her expression can shutter on him. He gently applies the pads along her skin, wrapping her up in an opera glove’s length worth of neon pink animal print bandaging, nice and tight. “There you go.”
“Cheetah print, really?”
“Just special for you, my little hellcat. Don’t worry, you can take it off tomorrow.” He rolls out on the stool and goes around to stand just in front of the bench. Briefly, he meets Steve’s eyes, and they have a short, non-verbal conversation, at the end of which Steve nods smally in agreement. “Okay,” Bucky says, reaching out to palm Lena’s face.
She automatically goes to shirk away from it, but Steve whispers something in her ear—Bucky doesn’t hear what—and it makes her settle. She bites her lip and peeks up at Bucky through her lashes and ruined makeup. “I was good,” she whispers, like she’s half-sure Bucky’s going to revoke his end of the deal.
He tries not to let it show on his face, how that hurts him. “Yeah, sweetheart. You were very good.” He bends over to kiss the top of her head, then turns and searches out Belova. She’s standing next to Maximoff now, over at the bar. Bucky goes over and holds out his hand. Pietro shakes first, Yelena second. “Thank you,” he tells them. “For bringing her back safely.”
“Again,” Yelena says with a smirk and a semi-suppressed eyeroll.
“You should get a leash,” Pietro jokes.
“Or a homing beacon.”
Bucky waves them off (though the homing beacon idea has occurred before), telling them to go back to their drinks and enjoy their evening. He doesn’t bother asking if the Gleb issue’s been dealt with—he knows from the look on Belova’s face that it has.
Part four
Masterlist
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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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All the Good Girls Go To Hell 9
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect.
Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers
Note: Look, I can’t stop myself.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
There’s a drilling in your skull. Splitting and cavernous. Your eyes slit. Too pained to open them fully to the deadly sheen of sunlight. What’s going on?
You groan and drag your hand up beside you. Your muscles hurt, your body is like sand, you feel as if you’re moving through mud. You touch your forehead and lift your eyelids a little higher. The room is blurry but you recognise the fuzzy shapes around you. You’re at home. Safe.
You rub your head for a moment then reach blindly over. You feel around until you find your glasses, already unfolded on the night table. You put them on, still laying flat. You stare at the ceiling as you gather your strength.
You remember dinner. It was awkward and you couldn’t wait for it to be over. But nothing else comes after Steve went to get dessert. You can’t recall.
You push your hands into the mattress. Your arms shake as you lift yourself, sitting up only to hunch forward, stomach stirring violently. Ugh, you feel awful.
You look down at yourself. You don’t even know the last time you wore these pajamas. They’re almost too small. The tight white top with the daisy in the middle and the matching shorts that show a bit too much of your ass.
That question persists; what happened? Something had to have. How could you forget almost a whole night? You don’t know how you got to bed or how you got changed or anything. You just don’t know and that scares the shit out of you.
You turn and hang your legs over the side of the bed. The task of standing is daunting. You feel hollow and weak. You slide closer to the edge until your toes meet the floor. You grip the night table and get up, staggering slightly.
Your feet come down heavy as you cross the room. You can’t help it. You can barely raise them enough to walk. You clutch your stomach and lean on the door as you open it. You go across to the bathroom. You have to pee so bad it hurts.
You roll down your shorts and sit, letting out the pressure with a sigh. You feel hot down there, a little irritated. Relieved you stand and fix your shorts. You wash your hands and look at yourself in the mirror. You are an absolute mess.
You go back into the hall. The fabric of the tee is rough against your nipple. Goosebumps rise on your skin despite the humidity caught in the space. You lumber to your doorway, rubbing your sickened stomach.
The hinges of your mother’s door groan and you lean your shoulder on the wall as you face her. She scowls as she stands in a robe, her eyes groggy, and her posture slumped.
“You’re up,” it sounds like an accusation as she comes down the hall, “about time.”
You’re confused by her anger. You don’t understand. Something must have happened.
“What do you–”
“You can start by apologising,” she sneers.
“What? I didn’t–”
“You did. You chased Steve off last night. You made a real fool of yourself, you know that? And me too.”
“No, I can’t– I don’t remember–”
“Oh, you don’t remember? You don’t remember?” Your mom barks. She’s never spoken to you like this. You flinch and cling to the trim of the doorframe. “No wonder. Sneaking wine behind my back. I was generous enough to let you have some and you go and do that. Get drunk and insult my fiance–”
“Fiance?” You blink, “how– you aren’t even divorced.”
“That’s paperwork,” she hisses, “and besides the point. You humiliated me. And you upset him. I can’t believe you.” She grimaces, “I can’t believe you’re acting so innocent. I know you were buzzed but there’s no way you blacked out. You know what I’m talking about.”
“Mom, I don’t– Mom!” You round your eyes wide, “I didn’t sneak any wine, I swear. I barely finished the one I did have. And then it’s all…” your heart drops, it couldn’t be.
“What? What are you saying? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“He put something in the wine. Steve, he–”
“No, enough. Stop. I will not hear it. Do you understand me? You don’t blame your bad decisions on him. Got it? And that sort of accusation, that’s rotten. I didn’t raise you like that,” she snarls.
“I’m not lying–”
“Oh, you’ve gotten real good at that,” her nostrils flair, “he told me about the boy you’re texting. Yeah, he saw the alerts on your phone. You’re not very coy. I should ground you for the summer–”
“Ground me? I’m nineteen–”
“Then act like it. Maybe I can’t, but I don’t wanna see you. Not for a while.” She looks away as tears wobble in her eyes, “maybe you should call your father.”
“Mom.”
“I have to go and see your aunt. I’ll be home around noon. I don’t want you here. Go hang out with that boy or your friend.”
You gape at her. She won’t even listen to you. Won’t give you the chance to explain. You don’t even know what you did and she won’t tell you. How can you make it better if you don’t know?
“Please–”
“I mean it,” her throat constricts and she looks past you, “when I’m ready to talk, you will apologise. Not just to me, but him.”
You open your mouth but quickly snap it shut. You know there’s no arguing. Her mind’s made up. You saw her like this very few times in your life, mostly with your father. She always got her sorry.
You step into your door and watch her go by. She doesn’t glance back as you stand dumbfounded. Your head throbs as you try to sort through your thoughts, to follow any thread that leads back to last night. Nothing.
You spin slowly and close your door. You tramp over to your bed and sit. As you do, you feel a hard shape against your thigh. You grab it and untangle your phone from the blankets. You flip open the screen, your face triggering it to unlock.
You don’t have any new messages, at least, no notifications for any. You pull up your conversations and see Bucky’s convo at the top, labeled simply, N’s dad. He sent several texts before eleven.
‘Was thinking you might want to come for another swim some time soon. Maybe you can give me some tips on the dating game.’ Followed by: ’Hope dinner’s going well.’
Several other messages with the same sentiment. You’re just happy he didn’t send anymore photos. You hid the other ones he sent in the chat.
You swipe away from his conversation. You search your contacts for your dad’s number. You hit the phone icon and put it on speaker, cradling your head as it pulses. To your surprise, he answers on the first try.
“Hey, what’s going on, kiddo?” He says from the speaker. You hear noise around him, like cars and young voices; children.
“Hi, dad, I was just… checking in.”
“Oh yeah? Haven’t heard from you. Summer treating you well?”
There’s whispering. He mutters something you can’t make out as the microphone scuffs.
“It’s good. I was just thinking I should come see you. We can catch up.”
“You know what, honey, maybe in a few weeks. I’m taking Sharon and the kids up to the lake–”
“Sharon?”
“Yeah, when we get back, you can come meet her…”
You tune out as he goes on. Sharon, the kids. Hers, by the sounds of it. And they’re going to the lake, just like you used to.
“Honey, honey…” your dad repeats and brings you back.
“Sorry, uh, that sounds fun. I… you sound very busy. I’ll call you back.”
“Alright, love ya,” he chimes.
“Love–” the line cuts.
You stare at the ended call and toss your phone beside you. You hang your head, rubbing your temples as you hear the same word echoing. Honey, honey, honey. But it’s not your dad saying it. It’s a low raspy voice, droning over and over as a tickle flutters in your core.
You whine and shake your head. You don’t have much choice. Who knows, Naomi, despite her flaws, has always listened. And you told her, you’re starting over. You made your boundaries perfectly clear.
⛱️
You don’t go straight to Naomi’s. You’re still not sure about it. Not just her, but Bucky. You hope you’re not giving him the wrong idea. You haven’t really encouraged him. You don’t think.
You stop and hit a drive thru to grab lunch. You drive down to the park and eat behind the wheel of your car. You still don’t feel right. You feel off. Like something is missing. Almost as if days have passed since you were last conscious.
You finish your food and drain the last of your milkshake. You shove the garbage in the paper bag and hide it behind your seat. You shouldn’t show up empty-handed.
‘You’re the first friend who doesn’t just come in, get what they want, and leave.” Bucky’s words come back to you. It explains a lot about Naomi, actually. You treat others how they treat you and all that.
You head towards the suburbs. It’s well after noon. No going back home. Not yet. Your mother usually needs time to cool down.
You see a big sign shaped like an ice cream cone and you pull into the lot. You’re close enough that the sundaes will last until you get there. You order two banana splits and carry on. Maybe Naomi will just let you sleep all day. As heavily as you slept, you feel like you didn’t rest at all.
You pull up the drive and stop behind the range rover. You get a wave of deja vu as you get out of the car and take the sundaes from the driver seat. You set off for the front door and nearly shriek as the figure that pops up from behind the roses hedges that edge the tiled walkway.
Bucky holds a pair of gardening shears in gloved hands as he greets you with a hearty laugh.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, his skin glistening with sweat.
He has no shirt on and damp strands of hair dangle around his face, free from the ponytail pulled behind his head. You calm yourself and force a smile.
“No problem, um… didn’t Naomi say…”
“Oh, yeah, it’s fine,” he waves off your explanation, “so how was dinner? Special occasion or something?”
“Um, not really. Well, my mom had her boyfriend over. She wants us to get to know each other,” you shrug, “her and my dad are divorcing so… it’s awkward.”
“Ah, been there. Twice.” He cringes and clicks his tongue, “it’s a lot of work being married. Dating, too. All of it.”
“Uh, yeah,” you try to ignore his allusion to the chat, “well– oh, uh, I got you something. Um, I didn’t wanna just come over.” You open the bag and carefully lift out one of the plastic container, “sorry if it’s a bit melted.”
“For me?” He acts like you’re handing him a pile of gold, “wow, thanks,” he takes it, “you didn’t have to– how did you know I love banana splits?”
“Lucky guess,” you arch your brow, “well, er, I have one for Naomi too so I should get that to her.”
“What did do to deserve you, doll?” He grins.
“Um,” you look down and fish around in the bag again, “a spoon too.”
You hand over a plastic spoon and he accepts it with another thanks. You hold your tense smile before you turn and climb the steps to the door. You peek back as you hear him pop off the lid. His blue eyes are on you.
You turn and twist the handle, letting yourself inside. You slip off your shoes and call Naomi’s name. You carry the bag inside with you as you get no answer. You go further and further. She sweeps out from the hall.
“Ah, you’re here!” She squees and claps her hands.
“Yeah,” you say, “I brought ice cream.”
“Oooo,” she grins and bats her lashes prettily, “perfect. I have the funnest day planned for us.”
“Great,” you say as you hand her the bag.
She takes it and twists on her heel, leading you to the kitchen. She takes out the container and examines the content. The spoon falls onto the counter and peels the wrapper off.
“I can’t eat all this alone,” she looks at you, “grab a spoon from the drawer.”
“Oh, I already–”
“Please, I can’t eat if you’re not eating. That’s rude. And hon, didn’t we agree that we wouldn’t be rude?”
You nod and wring your hands, “yeah, I guess.”
You look in three drawers before you find a spoon. You got to stand beside her as she saws through the banana with her fork. You take a small scoop of the ice cream.
“So, it’s going to be so awesome. I wanna take some photos. For my social media, you know? And you can help me. Also, you can keep an eye out for B– my dad,” she rolls her eyes, “he snoops so much.”
“Photos?” You swallow.
“Eee, it will be so fun!” She says giddily, “and then we can play a game.”
“Like, uh, a card game–”
“Truth or dare,” she smirks, “it’s always fun, isn’t it?”
“Oh, I… I’ve never really played.”
“Even more fun,” she slides the spoon into her mouth and sucks it clean with a hum. She pops her lip off of it and licks them clean, “you can ask or do anything you want.”
#steve rogers#bucky barnes#dark steve rogers#dark bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#steve rogers x reader#dark!steve rogers#dark!bucky barnes#oc x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#au#all the good girls go to hell#mcu#marvel#captain america#avengers#winter soldier
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Yandere Bucky Barnes x Reader Pt. 1
“We can’t do this.” Bucky leaned closer to you. “Why not?” He whispered, staring at your lips. “Can you back up?” His scent was driving you up the walls. He smirked. “Why? Can’t think.”
You back away until you hit the couch. You avoided making eye contact with him. “Doll, what’s wrong?” He asked, smiling down at you. She’s so fucking cute. Irresistible.
“N-nothing.” You crossed your arms. “Sure, whatever you say.” You looked around the couch. Where is the remote? Maybe a movie will shut him up? He greedily stared at you. She knows how I feel. She has to feel the same way. He sat down next to you. “Here, sweetheart.” He gave you the remote. You grasped it. He laughed. “I can’t believe my eyes. Is my Y/N shy? Huh? Look at me.” He was amused. You took the control without glancing at him.
“No. Annoyed.” He put a hand over your head. “Sure. I can practically hear your heart.” He softly smiled at you. You furrowed your brow. I forgot about that. You shook your head. “Just watch the show.”
He didn’t move his eyes from you. “I’d rather do you. I mean, I’d rather watch you.” He bit his bottom hip. I meant every word. Waking up next to her is my dream. Oh, I could give you such sweet dreams, Y/N.
“Please, all this is boring me.” You replied. You felt flustered. What is up with him today? “Already begging. You see, you and I, we deserve each other. We belong together.”
“Best friend. Bucky.” You exhaled before looking his way. He looked at you with lustful eyes. You cleared your throat. “I have a date.” You said trying to catch his off guard. Bucky frowned. “Doll, you made an appointment with your doctor?” Certainly not a date with a man. My Y/N wouldn’t go one some lousy date. Not with some punk.
“Uh, never mind.” Bucky scooted closer to you. “Doll, answer me. What date? And with who?” You clicked your tongue. “Don’t be jealous. I’ll still have time for you.” Huh? No. I need all your time. I need your attention on me. Call me clingy. I don’t care. Bucky coldly laughed. “Doll. He has to go through me if he wants to date you.” You shot your head in his direction. “Since when?”
“Since we’re best friends. It’s my job to protect you. You can’t just date anybody.” He smiled. Rage was boiling in his stomach.
You rubbed your temple. I don’t even have a date. “When do I get to meet him?” Bucky clenched his fist. “Never.” He crossed his arms. “Why?” You sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Because I don’t have a date…yet.”
Bucky blinked. “I knew it!” He pulled you into a hug. “Hey!” You exclaimed. He snuggled up to you. “Yeah, whatever Mr. Protector. You should’ve seen your face.”
You laid your head on his shoulder. “You know eventually I’ll have to date.” Yeah, me. He laid his head in the her neck. He hummed. “When that day comes, I’ll tell you.” That day will come. And that date will be with me. Marriage. That pet you insist on having and our home away from chaos.
Stay around for more of Yandere Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Emergency Writing Commissions Open‼️
I have expenses (bills/groceries). If you can help, I would appreciate it. Sharing this also helps.
https://artistree.io/artbycrow
#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes x plus size reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#yandere bucky barnes#yandere marvel#yandere x female reader#dark bucky x reader#dark bucky x you#dark bucky barnes
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idle hands are the devil’s playthings🩸🦷
steve kemp!lust demon au drabble(?)
cw: mentions of blood, bondage, teeth marks/biting (if i’m forgetting anything please let me know)
Lust’s passion will be served; it demands, it militates, it tyrannizes. -Marquis de Sade
his warm grip around your neck, the soft ribbons tying your wrists to the bed frame, fresh teeth marks on your freshly washed skin stained with blood (both yours and his), the silk sheets under your writhing, helpless, quivering body. how else did you expect to find yourself once you wholeheartedly summoned a demon, a lust one to be exact, out of boredom on a friday night? “idle hands are the devil’s playthings” was one of the first teachings your holier than thou mother injected into your brain before you could walk. fuck! you can’t help the laugh that comes out of your mouth when you think about how that bitter old woman would climb out of her grave if she saw you and Kemp in all his demonic glory—his black eyes filled with the need to worship you by bringing you pain, a sultry smile full of sharp teeth he wants to dig harder into the meat of your skin, and a honeyed voice that promises to always take care of you…as long you don’t act up.
✨pics and gifs from pinterest✨
PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU CAN!!!! THANKS FOR YOUR SUPPORT!!!!!! <3
#the seven writing event#sebastian stan#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes moodboard#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes imagine#bucky imagine#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#dark!bucky barnes#dark bucky barnes x reader#dark bucky barnes#dark bucky smut#bucky fic#nickfowlerrr’s writing event#Spotify#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes oneshot
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Moonlight & Fang Masterlist
Fantasy/Little Red Riding Hood/ABO AU
Alpha!Jax Teller, Dean Winchester, Captain Syverson, Ari Levinson, Bucky Barnes x OC Omega!Selene/Red
Their sweet words fall like bittersweet honey. Lacing pain and menace under a sugary facade. Coating everything. Sticky, sweet and unthreatening. All earth and warmth. The best disguise for unsuspecting beings, with open hearts and damaged souls. A succulent entree for her sharp teeth to feast upon. For she is made of moonlight and fang. All charm and soulful eyes. While hiding an all encompassing darkness inside. Sinful lips with a deadly tongue. Patiently waiting for her prey to become safe and lucid. Drunk off of her words and lingering touch. When their red hoods fall, exposing the softness of their throats. Her eyes become bigger, as her hunger and lust for flesh grows. Just one bite and she'll change your life.
My, oh my.
What big fangs you have my dear.
Word Count: 21k
Warnings: 18+ Only
Original Female Character(s), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Blood and Violence, Werewolves, Werewolves Turn Into Actual Wolves, Alpha/Omega, Morally Ambiguous Character, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Fluff
Chapters:
Little Red
The Orphan
The Hunter
The Blacksmith
The Rogue
The Forgotten Prince
Balance
#poc oc#dark fantasy#fantasy au#abo au#abo dynamics#jax teller smut#alpha jax teller#jax teller x reader#dean winchester smut#alpha dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#captain syverson smut#alpha captain syverson#captain syverson x reader#ari levinson smut#alpha ari levinson#ari levinson x reader#bucky barnes smut#alpha bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader
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Ch. 1 of Moonlight & Fang is now live!
Hello Heathens!
It's time to meet Little Red.
Where do I even begin? “Once Upon A Time” seems far too classy for a tale such as mine.
Although my story may seem vaguely familiar, it should be noted that there is darkness abound here. The line between hero and villain is not so black and white. You never truly know the depths to which one will submerge themselves in the abyss to be free.
Stature and status truly have no merit in this place. For once you step upon this long forgotten land, tempted by the allure of the fates, your life will be forever changed...
Continue
#fantasy au#poc reader#poc oc#poc author#alpha jax teller#jax teller x reader#alpha dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#alpha captain syverson#captain syverson x reader#alpha ari levinson#ari levinson x reader#alpha bucky#bucky barnes x reader#fairytale retelling#dark aesthetic#gothic#halloween#for the spooky ones
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All I Know ❝part five❞
☆ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC/The Winter Soldier x OC
☆ Summary: Problems arise when Bucky over hears the girl mumble something in her sleep. There's something off about her.
☆ Warnings: angst, fluff, anxiety attack
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+
“You're going to kill them because I've taught you to obey, and do nothing but obey.”
Blink
“..I've taught you to obey, and do nothing but obey.”
Blink
“..and do nothing but obey.”
Blink
“...obey.”
Blink
“Do you understand x001?”
Blink
“x001…”
Blink
“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”
Blink
“OBEY”
_________________________________
Bucky decided that he'd stay awake and gaze out the balcony window, knowing sleep would be hard to come. He feared if he shut his eyes, he'd be sucked into more memories. A part of him craved to know everything of who he used to be, but another wanted nothing of it. He wasn't the man he was from the memories, the ones with the blonde.. Steve.
Getting his memories back wouldn't change the fact that he is only a shell of who he was. There was no getting him back.
Thoughts of Steve realizing that tugged at his heart, his emotions confusing him. He figured Steve was important to him, but it frustrated him that he couldn't fully understand the bond. He was left trying to put together the empty spaces, of which he was tired of.
Shuffling from the girls form near the mattress caught Bucky's attention. Jealous that she accepted sleep so easily, but also fearing what she could possibly be dreaming about.
Focusing on her from his spot near the window, he watched her carefully.
"Soldat?"
A whisper from her lips had Bucky stiffening up, his heart started beating rapidly.
His flesh hand grew clammy, while his vibranium limb tensed up. He felt frozen to his spot, not daring to move a muscle, in fear he'd trigger her. Her eyes were closed he took note of, but she had whispered so clear, it had his ears tingling while his body erupted with goosebumps. His flesh fingertips were almost completely numb, while his chest tightened, his lungs straining to expand.
His mind flooded with chaos..
Was this the plan to get The Asset back? She was a possible handler.. no. She seems harmless.. no she's dangerous and she could take me down with one touch. Does she know the words? Did I walk myself into HYDRA's trap?
Bucky let out a wheeze, exhaling the trapped air in his lungs. His body slumping forward in exhaustion, he could hear his own blood rushing through his veins, his mind racing. Attempting to take a deep breath to soothe the tightness in his chest, his throat constricted, not allowing any air to pass through. His vision blurred, his flesh hand grabbing at chest in desperation. Flinging his metal arm out, he grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter in a death grip, denting the cheap material in the process. Squeezing his eyes shut, he felt weak, letting his body lock in this permanent state of anguish.
Just barely, Bucky felt the tiniest wave of tranquility flow through his mind, easing his grip on the counter. Like a wall had been lifted from his crushed body, his throat cleared. His lungs burning and expanding, finally allowing air in. Leaning back against the cabinets, Bucky let his limbs hand loosely at his sides, his once bent knees fall. How he was able to snap out of an episode like that? He ignored it, accepting the calm without question. The apartment fell back into a comfortable silence, the sound of his slowing heartbeat, along with an occasional cough.
Cracking open his eyes, he immediately checked Mary, hoping that she was still asleep. He felt embarrassed at a possibility of her watching him unravel. Bucky was never that lucky though.
Curious, concerned eyes were watching him cautiously from afar. Bucky met hers, almost as a silent conversation was being had, he nodded his head to her, letting her know he was okay. He wanted to ask how long she'd been awake, but he rather forget it altogether. Shuffling his body so he faced back towards the window, he let his exhausted eyes gaze out the window, focusing on nothing in particular.
Mary meanwhile couldn't find it in herself to fall back asleep, so she stayed awake, watching Bucky. He confused her, she couldn't quite find the reason of her many suspicions, but something continued to tug at her brain at every glance of Bucky she got.
_________________________________
Bucky finally moved from his spot from the floor, not moved since last night. Cracking his stiff neck, he glanced to see if Mary had moved from her spot. Although he wasn't surprised to find her in the same position as he last saw her, he was shocked to see her picking at the floor, wide awake like she never slept.
Taking a deep breath, Bucky stood fully and walked over to the fridge, grabbing another water bottle out for her. Shuffling over he squatted, placing the bottle down in front of her, gaining her full attention now.
Mary stared at the bottle, remembering his words from yesterday. He told her she didn't have to obey, she could make her own decisions. But she liked following, she found it comforting when it was him giving the orders.
Bucky saw the hesitation when she glanced up to him, and he should've known it would take more then one talk to get her out of these habits.
"Drink. It's yours." He told her, trying his best to not have it sound like a demand.
With a nod she twists the cap off, and gulps down a heavy amount.
"Not too fast, you're gonna get sick." Bucky warned, the mother instinct briefly showing itself again. He winced and stood back up, heading to the kitchen area.
She immediately slowed down her drinking, despite her feeling incredibly dehydrated.
"Bucky." She called out, voice staying quiet and soft.
Bucky turned to her, waiting for her to continue.
She had set the bottle down, pointing to the balcony, towards the outside. Bucky was waiting for her to want to explore, knowing it was unfair to keep her in here. He wasn't necessarily worried about her going outside, it was everyone else that he didn't trust. A constant possibility of someone from HYDRA spotting her, even him.
“It’s not safe out there.” He told her truthfully, ashamed to have to live in fear.
The girl frowned and glanced to the window again, hating the way she could see the outside from her spot, wishing she could explore.
Bucky felt bad almost immediately, watching her face drop. Surely, if she was from HYDRA, she’d understand why it wasn’t that easy.
“Sorry, people might spot us.” He clarified.
“You go out, yes?” She asked, making a good point. He was hoping she wasn’t going to pry, but after being isolated for as long as she was, he didn’t blame her for pushing.
“Not without difficulty. I’m very careful.”
She nodded her head, taking in his words.
“I can be careful too.” She whispered, her eyes desperate, full of fear that she’d be kept away from the outside forever.
He was giving in slowly, her saddened eyes making his heart ache. He understood her more than anyone could and he wouldn’t be the one to isolate her anymore then she already has been.
“Okay,” He started, Mary perked up, “I’ll take you outside soon, but it’s dangerous out there. You have to stay close to me, and listen to me when we go, okay?”
Mary nodded her head, he didn’t know it, but she would follow him regardless of him asking. She was very loyal, willing to do just about anything for him. He saved her, and she felt she owed him an impossible debt.
#reader insert#light angst#fluff#buckybarnes#marvel cinematic universe#marvel imagines#the winter soldier#bucky barnes#bucky x oc#bucky barnes x oc#dark themes#hydra experiment#marvel#series#broken characters
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|| Back To Black ||
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, Nick Fowler or any of the MCU characters mentioned (sadly). This story contains dark and mature content. Minors do not interact.
Warnings: Dubcon, morally gray!reader, opportunistic reader, smut with plot, dark!Bucky, angst, winter soldier, exhibitionism, choking, hair pulling, slapping, humiliation, degradation, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected p-in-v, biting, missionary and doggy style, breeding kink, creampie, fear kink, power imbalance, Bucky's metal arm (?), pet names (rosey, baby), Daddy kink, sir kink.
Note: I think this sounds a bit unserious and somewhat goofy aah but this was exactly my idea and I don't think I could have done it any different. Please let me know what you think <3
.
You rolled your eyes with a scoff at something your now fiance and ex brother-in-law to be, Crown Prince Nick Barnes, said. The night was cool and you had ordered for the lights of the garden that your balcony faced to be turned down. Your silk nightgown that was dark blue in color -Nick's royal color- hung from your shoulders in the most comforting way as the skirt bit of the article swayed with the gentle breeze. You heard Nick's chuckle on the other end of the video call and before you retorted with something edgy because that was just the kind of Princess that you were, you shifted against the railing to make yourself more comfortable while still holding the phone in such a way that he could see you.
His demanding nature was not one you particularly fancied but you supposed that was the kind of liberty that came with being an actual heir. Though you couldn't help but be reminded of how although his brother -the older twin- was a much better crown prince than Nick could ever be and yet he had never made you feel inferior in status by imposing his will on you.
It was impossible for you not to muse on the possibility that if your older sister, The actual Crown Princess of your kingdom, had been chosen by his brother instead of you, Nick would still treat her the same way and if she would put up with having to be subservient.
"All things considered, Your Royal Highness, we are still not having a dozen children" the title never failed to sting your tongue due to how you had never had to use it for your original fiance.
But Nick was just one of those people.
His snort made you want to roll your eyes but you knew better than to disrespect him as the two of you shared a rather formal relationship that was quite terse around the edges. Perhaps, his brother had spoiled you too much. "I always find it amusing that you think you have a choice in–" you were busy watching the stars because you could not bear to look at him when he behaved like this. But then he abruptly changed the topic and you didn't care to express concern by glancing at the screen, "I thought you said you excused your ladies, little one" he did not appreciate being lied to; something he shared with his identical brother.
"I did, Your Excellency" when he sighed in disapproval, you had to avert your eyes from the sky to look down at him on the screen with an air of annoyance about you. "I really–"
"Then who is that behind you?" Nick had also been busy reading away on a tablet as he traveled somewhere -probably back to the Palace- in a vehicle but now he narrowed in on his screen.
Your eyebrows remained flat and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "Ha ha, Your Highness, very funny" he had a thing for making silly jokes when he was in an agreeable mood, or at least moving towards one.
"Y/n, I am serious" there was an urgency in his voice as he leaned closer to get a better look. "Turn around right now and tell me who is–"
"You even wear his color now, huh rosey?" Your body took a good few moments to register the voice behind you and you nearly failed to recognize it at first. Though when your brain finally managed to make the association, your heart dropped into your stomach and your blood ran ice cold.
You spun around on your heels so hard they ached, coming face to face with James Barnes; the original Crown Prince and your real fiance. The man who had chosen you over your sister; giving preference to you for once, the brave warrior who had surrendered his body to his country; so they could make the best protector possible out of him, the honorable fool who only wanted to do good; a hero too noble for this wretched world.
Your phone that now blared with Nick's alarmed yells slipped through your numbing fingers but James caught it before it could break against the ground. "What the hell are you doing here?" You harshly whispered as if in a defensive autopilot, overwhelmed by how he had grown three times his size. Your eyes unintentionally traveled to where his arm had gotten mutilated on an expedition and you found a metal one glinting up at you in its stead. Maybe your reaction could be considered foolish in hindsight, but the knowledge that you were utterly at this unstable man's mercy and had nothing to defend yourself with against his monstrous stature terrified you. That in turn caused you to act in the only way you thought was appropriate as you desperately hoped for your facade to affect him in a helpful way.
"Did all those years mean nothing to you, rosey?" His face was covered in stubble and his dark hair was long as it obscured most of his features, deep voice animalistic as his black leather clad form seemed to expand and contract with each heavy breath. Your throat tightened in on itself and your breath hitched. What the hell had they really done to him?
"You shouldn't be here, James" you looked around for your guards– anyone but found the area to be eerily silent. How had you not noticed this ominous shift in your environment before? "That is against the rules as you're endangering the future Queen and many other people" he was all about rules and that was what you had disliked most about him. "Go back" your heart was on the verge of exploding but you pushed on with as much a semblance of composed firmness as you could muster.
Nick's threats and curses melted into the background as James coldly snorted before snatching you by your hair, fingers snaking through a tangle of the strands, the action causing you to wince. It was only when you tried to fight him back and the bustle caused the two of you to inch closer to the lighting of your chambers did his face really come into your view. Your eyes widened in horror as your hand went to clamp over the hold he had on you defensively.
His pale face was covered in blood splatters and his glossy teal eyes seemed to shake, their blown pupils crazed.
"So it was always about the crown then, huh, rosey?" You would never have expected him to sound as hurt and betrayed in this maddened state as he did.
"You know it was" you lied through your teeth to try and get his stance to falter like it always did when you counterattacked to his affectionate advances with hostility; the only thing you had known all your life. "Nothing matters more than the crown" the world functioned on power. So you had always used and abused that you had over him; over his heart.
"I see" except, it didn't seem to budge him much today. Your eyes desperately scanned your dark surroundings again, this time for a weapon albeit still in vain. "In that case, you should be with me, then" your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you whimpered at how his fingers tightened around your neck.
"James!" And then you were getting dragged back into your chambers.
Once he had approached your bed, he placed your phone on the bedside table so a fuming Nick could clearly see whatever was about to unfold.
Your flailing form was yanked back in frame and then held tightly in place by the clasping of his metal hand over the deep neckline of your nightgown. "Because I am all fixed up," your eyes turned to look at him in horror as he chuckled dryly, "and back to take all that's mine" you screamed and hot tears finally rushed down your flushed cheeks when your compressed breasts sprang free in the air upon his tearing a thick valley between the front piece of your gown. James only snickered into the camera while his brother screamed at him to not dare damage what was his amongst other profanities.
But wasn't James simply repossessing what had always belonged to him in the first place?
He had finally corrected himself in the way the world deserved.
Now he would only live for himself like everyone else was.
He was done getting played for a fool by all.
"Please!" Your words fell on deaf ears as the man proceeded to further rip his brother's color off your body furiously until nothing remained in his hold except for your nudity, strong jaw nearly ticking broken due to how it was clenched as he did so.
"Tell me, dear, did you also let him have you?" You were nearly petrified at this point both by shame and fear as he manhandled you onto the bed before crawling over you like a predator and trapping your limbs under his. "And if you dare lie to me then so God help me" his metal hand roughly fondled your breasts as his other hand tightly restrained your limp yet determined wrists above your head.
"S- Stop!" Your back arched and you turned your face away in disgust when he started sniffing you all over like a hungry hound.
"Hm, what about this little pussy of mine down here" a chill ran down your spine at how the crevices of his metal hand felt against your nether lips when he stroked them. "Has she forgotten her Daddy, hm?" He was the stark opposite of the man you had been engaged to and that in addition to how you had last seen him slashing at the lab assistants while speaking a language you did not understand as well as how semi-liquid crimson particles covered his face caused for a wave of pure terror to rush over you. But it was nothing compared to the chilling fact that his body heat and touch -regardless of its fashion- had awakened that one familiar feeling only he could evoke in you.
Nick went silent at James' words and you felt blood rush to your tear stained cheeks.
Contrary to popular belief, you were not the chaste future Queen saving herself for her wedding night and King like the royal protocol demanded.
But in your defense, the then future King, James, himself was the one who had defiled you because you were already his. And you had let him for you could act all high and mighty as you desired in front of him as well as others due to how comfortably open he had always been about his feelings for you hence presenting a very vulnerable perhaps even a subservient part of himself to you on a silver platter, but also because the man knew how to fuck.
You were addicted to how he felt against you and though you had never brought your suspicion to your lips, you had wondered for the entirety of the time your betrothal had changed to Nick whether the younger twin would ever be able to come even close to his brother.
"Would you look at that?" His coo sounded out of place and ominous due to how the pretend softness stood out from the menace of his tone. "It doesn't seem like she has," your fingers instinctively clawed the air to try and take a hold of his hand to deal with the feeling of his bionic digits invading their way between your petals. "She still weeps and blinks up dumbly at me like a stupid slut all the same" horror filled you as you became hyper aware of Nick's eyes on you, and yet your skin began to buzz at the filthy words that still scratched you in that one way regardless of everything. "Rosey…?" It was chilling how he playfully raised an eyebrow like he wasn't covered in blood and flesh of the people that he had torn apart on his way to you, instead giving you a lazy grin as he spread your privates apart with the back of his hand. "Be honest for once and say, you didn't let him touch you, did you?" Your loins sparked to life when the tip of his finger ghosted over your entrance. "I mean, I know how demanding a whore you really are, common ways can't satisfy you and you don't waste your time on lost causes" James bent down to inch his grin closer to peer down at you and you had to turn your eyes away with a clasping shut of your lids. You had been caught. "The crown matters more than anything, huh?" Your eyes further clenched at his taunt and a shiver reverberated through you when his hot tongue darted out to swipe across the tear stains on your cheeks.
He had promised you during your courting period that he would never allow a single tear to fall from your eyes. It seemed so that even in this state, he was determined to keep it. This way or that.
"I- I belong to someone else now." Having always been treated inferior to your sister, you refused to let go of your only chance at power. So jutting your chin out determinedly you refused to look at him and falter in your stead, for you knew it would make you cave as his face was still that of your protector and pursuer.
Because even if a woman had not the slightest preference for her admirer, the mere knowledge that she was fancied earned him a place in her heart still.
"No, you don't" his words were stern and determined. "You were mine and you are mine" his lips trailed their way down to your neck to mark you his while one of his metal fingers penetrated your intimate band of muscles, causing you to bite back a moan as your pussy clenched defensively; hence intensifying the pleasure. "It's not your fault, really. Your little girl brain is too small to remember the difference between me and him for too long since we are identical, huh baby?" You hated how your traitorous hips betrayed you and began to move in sync with his finger. "But you don't have to worry your pretty little head about that, my sweet rosey…" His lips ghosted over your ear, hot breath fanning your alarmed skin. "I'll just claim you again to remind you" his teeth were sharp and unforgiving against your skin that had faded out the marks of his passion. "And I'll put my heir into that little womb of yours so whenever your tiny mind tries to get too silly again, my child will remind you who you belong to" he refused to acknowledge your protests at that and plopped his fingers out of you just long enough to undo his pants. "Besides," his hard cock easily found its way to your entrance, as always, "isn't procreation one of the duties of the King and the Queen?"
It was then you realized that his transformation had been physical in every sense.
Your eyes widened as your body jolted upwards in shock, lazed out hips now sparking up to life to almost try and get away from the cruel impaler that threatened to intrude it in a manner so devastating that the band feared a ripping of the lining.
James snorted when your pussy refused to accept him and clenched in on itself defensively to shut him out, your petals nearly trembling in fear. "Aw, baby. How cute, you did stay faithful to me after all, huh" shaking his head when you only sobbed in response, he grunted as his huge shoulders moved to attempt an invasion yet again only to be denied. "Tsk, tsk, never learns her lesson, does she?"
"Plea–" your words were cut off by a harsh smack resounding against your pussy lips and you jerked up and into his chest.
"Bad pussy" he seemed to be immersed in a world of his own amusement and lust, ears deaf to your pleas while his dark eyes drank up every last drop you had to offer. "Always playing around with her Daddy" the force of his metal hand was cruel against your tender flesh when three short paced slaps came down on it in quick succession. "Thinking she has a choice, tsk" the next hit was hard and heavy. "It seems she needs to be reminded who calls the shots around here" two concluding slaps later, you were being braced for his cock again and surprisingly enough, your tense little pussy was much more compliant with receiving him this time.
That, and the embarrassing amount of slick that had seeped through your petals as a product of the brief disciplining session.
"You feel that, baby?" His eyes finally looked up into yours as he aligned himself along your entrance. "She's all fixed up for her Daddy now" and then he pushed in.
"Oh!" Your back arched before you could respond since he bottomed out rudely at once, biting down on a sensitive patch of your neck the same time as when he intruded your insides.
The thing was, it wasn't that James wasn't an experimental lover, no. The two of you had done things that you felt mortified to even think about for too long. But it had always been with proper care and vigilance because the then crown prince was very soft on you as he referred to you as his heart. So you treated him like a pet dog and trampled all over his feelings and the liberty you had found in his treatment of you; something you had never been allowed before. You were used to pulling at his strings like a puppeteer.
But now, the way he pulled and twisted you in whatever fashion that he desired…
You never expected the rush of hot need that waved its way over you and the thick arousal that gushed out of your womb to slick his cock to be the result of his manhandling you like you were no more than a doll for him to play with.
And then his touch that you had been deprived of for months was further blocking your intellectual faculties amongst other things.
James' eyes fluttered close as his metal hand reached for your throat to squeeze out the remnants of your refusals. A grunt left him as he let himself reminisce as well as get overwhelmed by the velvet texture of your splotched walls. He brought his face closer to yours and groaned before pressing it into one of your cheeks to press hard, sloppy kisses all over it as his hips moved but only to press harder up your womb.
It was James' custom invented way of getting you completely stretched out for his cock.
… That had grown thrice its size because of his serum procedures.
And the man had already been way bigger than the average.
"J- Jame-s!" You gasped out, struggling to breathe. His stiff tip felt like it was beginning to penetrate something else. "P- Plea-se!"
"What do you want, huh baby?" Your features scrunched together in discomfort as you flexed your fingers again. They needed to be freed so they could hold onto something to cope with the overwhelming penetration.
"Move…" A smirk pulled his lips apart and he opened his dark teal eyes to peer down at you, silently grunting as he pushed deeper at that. "P- Pl-ease–" your tears were starting to become hot and you could feel your nerves bulging against your forehead from the lack of oxygen.
"Will you behave if I do?" Your toes curled as you hissed, the knee that you wanted to bring up as a way to deal with the pain trapped under his heavy thigh.
You timidly nodded because there was not much else left for you to do. It hurt, and you wanted him to move to ease the pain almost as much as you needed him to fuck you.
James clicked his tongue in disapproval and bit down on one of your nipples in a punishing manner, making you jolt upwards in pain. "Use your words, honey." A surge of pure pleasure overwhelmed you and you moaned loudly with satisfied nods, letting him know that you were in the process of complying.
Like you always did when he was buried balls deep in your cunt.
"So you were fucking him when he was courting you, weren't you?!" Nick was furious on the other line, feeling like a lied to fool as you had denied it when he had asked you about it. "I fucking knew it you stupid slut!" The words caused you to clench harder around James' girth as you bit your bottom lip. "I am–" he went to cut the call but a gun entered the frame to press into his temple as his car seemed to come to a halt. You heard a faint 'watch' being told to your fiance.
But for some twisted reason, the way in which Nick's livid eyes now watched you with a quiet rage caused the desire in your hips to only bubble hotter. He didn't have a choice for once and you could go against him all you pleased "I w- will behave… p-lease!" Your eyes had stuck on your fiance so James patted your cheek to redirect your attention to him.
"Eyes on me" the demand was followed by his letting go of your wrists to snake his arms under your waist to hoist you up and in a more convenient position for his cock. You moaned as your fingers found his long hair to hold on to.
"Y- Yes… sir" his leather jacket was coated in blood and human and you did not want yours to add to the mix. So you raked your mind and you raked it hard. "T- Thank you, sir" you rather prided yourself on your opportunistic wit.
James chuckled darkly as he began to reel his hips back, your cavern making a loud decompression sound as a result. You found yourself sighing in relief when his hard skin unglued from yours because for a second it had begun to feel like he was stuck in your channel.
"So fucking clever even with that little brain, aren't we, baby?" Of course you could never truly fool him regardless of how good you were.
"BUCKY! OH!" A vile whine loudly left you when he kissed your chin only to sink down his teeth into it next as his hips snapped against yours to fuck you upwards. He didn't halt this time and pulled out again to back thrust in, his movements slow but visibly desperate to speed up. "FUCK!"
"Ah, there is that girl I raised on this cock and its milk" your chin stung when he finally let go to close his mouth on one of your cheeks now, causing you to shiver from how overwhelmed you felt by the pain in your face and the pleasure that bloomed in your pussy that was inching closer and closer to a proper pounding as result.
"Please fuck your child in me!" It had been far too long. "Please! I need it so bad! Please fuck me full of your children so I can always remember who I belong to!" You liked how Nick watched– had to watch. It almost felt like revenge; a slap you had wanted to hit him stupid with for the longest time for making you feel so low when his brother, who was twice the man he could ever hope to be and your real suitor, never had. James' cock felt just right as he fucked you so good that you began to see neon stars. You didn't care anymore. Or at least, not in the moment. It felt as though your life depended on this release.
Perhaps… it did.
Besides, the silence in your surroundings and gun next to Nick meant James had it covered in some way. Not that it was much of a surprise. His Kingdom had the greatest army to date and those soldiers were loyal and compliant only to him.
"You know what's the best part about this, rosey?" Your mouth was agape as you panted and moaned through it alike, tugging at his silky strands as his ballsack clapped against the beginning of your ass before sliding into your cunt each time, the primal smell of slick, sweat and sex floating in the air around you.
"What is it, my King?" You were shameless with it, as you had always been. "Please tell me" the fake way in which you unclasped your fingers from his hair to scratch one of his cheeks with your nails made him clench his jaw as he squeezed one of your tits, pistoning his cock in and out of you even faster.
"I know you don't mean any of this" you froze momentarily and his crooked smirk morphed into a grin. "But you will before the year's end" you went to speak but his metal hand found your clit just in time and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, nails digging into the stubble of his cheek. "I know you will" him promising you that you'd return his feelings one day wasn't anything new. He had always told you that. However, normally your response would be a roll of your eyes or simply a change of topic. But today, something dangerously final lingered in them and you had no clue why but you found yourself answering;
"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! I will, sir!" One of his thick nerves twitched against a particularly sensitive spot in your walls the same time his tip found your special bundle of nerves and brutally collided into them, tearing out incoherent screams from deep within you. "Oh- I am– I am–"
"Don't cum" his hand disappeared from your clit and your eyes that you had subconsciously closed flung open as you begrudgingly tugged at his hair with a needy whine. "You don't deserve it" your body violently jiggled up and down in his arms as you vehemently shook your head.
"NO! PLEASE!" If there was one thing he didn't appreciate, it was you raising your voice at him. But you couldn't help it, your build up was nearing its edge and the fear that it would topple over all wrong after such a long time scared you. Because once an orgasm was ruined, there was no coming back from it. James had taught you that one night after a ball when you had danced with someone a little too frankly.
"No?" He was panting himself as he hugged your waist closer to his, the feeling of his cock's imprint pressing against both of your stomachs only making him slam you down harder and harder. "So you deserve it?"
You quickly shook your head as your boobs flew about, pussy trying to close on itself out of sensitivity when his metal fist closed around your throat again. "N- No! No! I don't, sir!" Your voice altered in a humiliating manner when he squeezed and your dry throat pressed in on itself, making you cough.
"That's right" his hand parted from your neck long enough to slap you. "Think you can just say your pathetic little pretty please and I'll forgive you for forgetting my existence the moment I wasn't good enough for you?" You sobbed out of frustration, willing your hips into squeezing themselves closer together so you could hold on from falling over.
"No!" He slapped you again, the force causing your head to turn sideways this time around. "No, sir!" Desperately reaching for the artificial hand you pressed humiliating kisses all over it. "But it's been so long! Please, my King!" Your back arched from the strength it was taking you to keep yourself from cumming. "I need you so bad! I need it so bad!" In your confusion and oversensitivity you dropped your head against his, your knees trembling. "Only you can make me cum! I tried for months! So many times in so many different ways!" The tears of embarrassment were hotter than those of need that you had been weeping all this time. His movements faltered a little at your confession. "But nothing worked! Only you do! So please! Please let me cum! I don't know what I will do if you don't! Please let me cum and give me your babies!"
"Only I work, huh?" His voice was eerily quiet, a new kind of dark exploding in the air about him. You vigorously nodded, genuine for once in your life.
James' chuckle was the only thing your hazy mind registered before you were moved, twisted, turned and bent faster than you could keep up with.
The next time your consciousness caught up with the present you were facing your phone, on your knees like an animal as your build up slowly subsided. Though your vacant pussy was plunged full soon after, your legs getting pulled apart before being hoisted up in the air by James' hand, your elbows the sole support of the upper half of your body now.
"Tell him how badly you want to be stuffed full of my children and I'll let you have it" blood rushed to your face to bubble under the skin when your eyes locked with those of the stoic male at the same time but before you could hesitate, James cock began to move inside you although torturously slow. "You might want to hurry up, rosey. I don't have all night" the spank that his words accompanied sparked you into motion like someone pressed a button on you.
"Please, Nick!" The thrusts sped up and your claws dug into the mattress. "I want James' children so bad!" There wasn't much emotion on the male you faced but the bright red of his ears and neck even in the dim lighting of the car indicated that he was both furious and humiliated. Perhaps even more so than you. "Please! Please ask him to stuff me full of his babies!" The more slaps rained down on your ass as your pussy expanded to welcome James balls deep inside you with each brutal thrust, the more your mouth ran on the most vile autopilot. "All I want in my life is to be fucked swollen and heavy with his children with my body wrapped up in his color while I nurse the other ones!" James cursed before his hand reached for your front to dip between your legs and you moaned before your arms gave out and you fell face first.
"You heard her, now tell him that" as your cheek rubbed against the mattress everytime you were pounded into it, you heard a man speak to Nick. The Prince tried to protest but something– probably the gun pressing against his head caused him to stop before he gritted out a few seconds after;
"... Fuck your children into her and wrap her swollen body in your colour, James" the man reminded him that it was King James, for whatever reason and Nick sighed before correcting himself. "Please, King James" you couldn't help the whimper that forced itself out of you at his menacing tone.
Your back arched when the frantic circular motions of his fingers became too much for your cunt to handle and you clenched around his girth again, shuddering as you prepared yourself to get in trouble for the orgasm you were about to have.
But then your dependable luck did its thing. "Cum," the vibration of the spank buzzed through your whole body, "cum for me" as your tense muscles relaxed and you closed your eyes to let go, you felt James' hot seed explode within you, the force of his thrusts causing the cum to go flying all about.
Your eyes fluttered shut and the only two things you registered for the next few minutes were shaking profusely while limb paralyzing pleasure exploded through you and the rapid rubbing of your cheek against the soft bed covers which was result of the brutal pounding you were receiving from behind.
When he was done with you, he slowly untucked himself from you and left you trembling on the mattress while he fixed himself up. "Natasha!" Your ears perked up at the name of his second in command and you trembled at his volume. The heavy doors to your chambers opened and closed after the woman in question.
The red head clicked her tongue as she approached the bed, the heels of her boots faintly clicking against the floor as she walked. "Could've done better…" You jumped from how close she sounded when she spoke. "Because she's still awake" the hair on the top of your head was fisted into his metal arm to pull you up and you had to hurriedly scramble to cover your blushing jizz covered ass.
"For what's going to happen next" you whimpered at his words as you were moved onto your trembling knees by the humiliating hold that the man had on your hair and your whole body shook under the stern woman's scrutinizing glare. Peeking up at the red head through your lashes, you went to cover yourself up but James' scold for you to stay put had you planting your wrists in your lap within the next second. "Hands down" you hurriedly lowered your head too to avoid further increasing his ire.
Some shuffling sounded from above you before James approached you again. "Arms up, baby" the endearment must mean that you would be spared… right? You quickly complied with the utmost obedience and James placed a comfortable black gown on you before stepping back to reach for something else.
You almost gasped when you recognized the brilliant glimmer from your peripheral vision.
His mother, The Queen's, crown.
"There you go" you felt him place it on your head and your heart dropped. "Everything you always wanted placed on that silly little airhead of yours, baby" an embarrassing gasp escaped you when he suddenly pulled you closer by your throat. "Are you happy now, my sweet rose?" Your eyes welled up with confusion and how he suddenly slapped you before pressing his lips against yours roughly.
"He asked you a question, brat" you jumped at how Natasha spoke up suddenly, clearly fed up with you blinking up at him dumbly.
"That's no way to speak your Queen, Nat" your heart warmed up at how he clicked his tongue at the woman disapprovingly. "Tsk."
"Y- Yes. Yes" you nodded, still in a daze of post-orgasm sensitivity and general puzzlement at the absurd turn of events from an already shocking situation. "Yes, sir. Thank you so much."
He was smiling now. "Good girl" before he pecked your lips and held his hand back for Natasha to hand him something else. "You can rule all of them" your face burnt when your mind registered the accessory that he wrapped around your throat next. A collar and a leash embedded with sparkling diamonds. "I just want to rule you" his metal hand rotated in the air as he wrapped the leash around his bionic digits. "Let's go" you nearly fell on your face as you were pulled off the bed before being marched straight to the heavy doors.
Natasha opened them to reveal your entire family and staff standing mortified outside on weapon point of James' army. You whimpered and lowered your head in embarrassment until your chin touched the area between your collar bones, fingers tightening around your gown as you suddenly became hyper aware of the faint dig of the edges of the collar against your pampered skin.
"The King has called the alliance off" Steve, your owner's right hand, announced in his firm and curt voice. "The only reason why he has spared you, I must add just this once, is because you are related to the Queen. Any efforts of contact from here on out will lead to unsavory consequences akin to those his own family has met" a chill raised in your spine as your blood dropped in temperature. Holy fucking shit. They really had made a beast out of this once too noble to be true man. "Lastly, not that any of you really care but if the Queen ever wishes to visit, she will be allowed to do so after she has provided His Highness with an heir, accompanied by some of the best that the army can provide."
The walk out to the numerous sleek black SUVs felt like one of shame despite you wearing the crown you had always fantasized about.
And perhaps that's exactly what it was.
A balancing of the scale.
For betraying the one who loved you so dearly that even in his mindless state, he had known not to hurt you.
At least, not in a way that hadn't made your silly little pussy weep for more.
.
Tag(s) <3: @identity2212 @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @cjand10 @ihavetwoholesforareason @myfavbuckyfics
#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#mcu bucky barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x smut#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky smut#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#dark bucky x reader
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Any Dark Cop Bucky Fics ?
*Photo from Pinterest
#marvel#bucky barnes#dark bucky barnes#marvel cinematic universe#dark bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x original female character#bucky barnes x oc#james bucky buchanan barnes#mafia bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#police Bucky Barnes
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📖"Happy Little Family"
Prompt/Teaser Post:
Your heart ices over as you see him there - holding your baby. "No," you breathe.
"Look who it is!" he coos happily. He smiles at your terrified visage in the doorway and kisses June's head. "We missed you, Mommy."
"And then the knight took the princess away to his castle, and they lived happily ever after."
You're just outside the nursery when you hear his voice, and ice cold fear instantly floods your chest. You drop the laundry basket and run into the room, and there he is: seated in the chair you nurse from, reading one of the antique fairytale books that your mom gave at the shower, holding your baby.
"James," you breathe, horrified.
He's been smiling down at June, but now his face smooths out as he looks up at you. He isn't frowning or glaring, but you know him, and there's a storm behind those eyes that makes dread curl heavy in your stomach. "Hi Doll," he says quietly. "It's good to see you again."
Your heart pounds in your chest. You feel sick. One wrong move and who knows what he'll do. You take a cautious step forward, eyes searching James' body and anywhere nearby for a gun. You don't see one. You take another step. "James," you warn,
June makes a happy gurgle at seeing you, and James coos down at her, "Aw, yeah sweetie. I'm happy to see Mommy too."
Mommy. Hearing that word come out of his mouth, in a setting like this, is a nightmare you've woken from more than once. You lick your lips and hold out your arms, pleading, "James, please give her to me."
He acts like he hasn't even heard you, smiling and tapping June's body with one finger. "We were just reading a story. Little lady is gonna be a big reader one day, I bet. Gonna grow up to be real smart." His gaze slides back to you, with what you interpret as a world-of-hurt-coming-your-way look glimmering in his eyes. "A clever, tricky little kitty cat. Just like her Mommy."
📖"Daddy's Home"
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, evil baby daddy, evil-ex, dubcon/noncon, threats and coercion, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere
Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.
Story Masterlist
@cjand10, @violetwinterwidow01
#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes#mcu#marvel#fanfiction#fanfic#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes imagine#imagines#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x oc#kid fic#mob bucky barnes#mafia bucky barnes#enemies to lovers#dark fic#obsessive love#yandere#my polls#fanfic polls
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Defenseless
chapter 2 chapter 3
synopsis - steve and the avengers break up a sex trafficking ring. steve finds one of the survivors barely hanging on and decides she needs him.
warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of death, extremely sick reader, mentions of malnutrition, mentions of sex trafficking/sex abuse, moral!steve rogers, if i am missing anything please let me know!
a/n - i really loved writing this and i can absolutely seeing this becoming a series or at the very least having a couple more parts. give me all the feedback you can!! thanks sm for reading :)
wc: 3k
“On my signal,” Steve commanded the men behind him. This mission had been six months in the making, there was no way he was letting rookies fuck it up. He had instructed them before they even stepped foot outside of the compound that his word was law and they were to listen to every syllable that dripped from his lips.
He pressed his right hand against the steel door while his left went up swiftly. His hand told the man to rush the door. Steve’s fist broke the door open expecting to see strippers and mobsters dancing underneath flashing lights, instead he was met with the grizzly sight of men and women in miniscule cages sitting silently.
His rookies stopped abruptly, looking to the older Captain for guidance. Steve couldn’t offer any due to his shock. He had never seen something like this before, and he had been around for a long time.
They all looked so defeated, sitting silently in their prisons without so much as a flinch towards the men dressed in tactical gear in front of them. They didn’t seem alarmed, but they also didn’t show any signs of relief.
Steve looked behind him at the people who were meant to be following his lead, at first he was perplexed at what to do.
“Civilians have now been moved to top priority,” he said loudly into the comms attached to his Captain America suit.
“I want everyone on the basement level getting them out of the cages. Avengers, upstairs and we’ll take down the men behind this operation.”
His command was heard through the comms and Natasha was the first to copy. Steve turned his attention back behind him to the men who didn’t seem to know what to do without him holding their hands. He almost rolled his eyes but reminded himself of the time he was once in their shoes, scared and confused in the line of fire.
“I want them all out. Now. Get Fury to send a shuttle and take them to the compound.”
They shuffled in front of him and he watched as they broke the locks that confined the poor victims. Steve let out a sigh and felt his heart crack. He had always been a sensitive guy but even the most coldhearted man would feel a bit of sting seeing the conditions these people were being held in.
He shook the feeling off knowing he had a job to do. He ran up the stairs to the top level where he already knew Nat and Clint were waiting for him.
Once at the top floor he saw them crouched behind the wall with their weapons loaded and ready to fire.
“On your go, Cap,” Nat muttered while watching several men cluelessly smoke cigars in leather office chairs, completely oblivious to the people they have been sex trafficking being freed.
Anger filled Steve’s chest. How could they be sitting here happily while hundreds of people were in cages? Steve let the feeling wash over him, a feeling he could use when taking these assholes to prison.
“Now.”
Nat was the first to act, a warning shot to let them know what they were in for. That’s how she’s always been, never one for efficiency, she wanted to see the look on their faces when they realized they were paying for their crimes. Steve always had an inkling that quirk came from her time in the Red Room, but he never dared to bring that up to her.
Clint stayed behind the wall, silently shooting arrows at the men that had now erupted into chaos. Clint wasn’t aiming for vital organs, though they all secretly wanted these men to be killed, preferably by their own hands.
Natasha skillfully blocked their every move while simultaneously disarming each of them. Steve didn’t step in until one of the assholes had Nat in a full nelson, restricting her movement.
Steve knew that they didn’t stand a chance against three Avengers with a mission. It didn’t take long until every one of them, seven men in total, were either unconscious or in some form of handcuffs. They spit obscenities at the trio but they all ignored their screams.
“Get any information you can off of their computers. I want names, client lists, business associates, and anything else you can find,” Steve barked another order while preparing the compound for the influx of people.
“On it.”
“Clint, get someone to take these pricks to jail.”
Steve went back downstairs to do a final walkthrough of the sex trafficking ring disguised as a casino. He always double checked. Making the mistake once was enough for him to learn his lesson.
The basement was his last stop before he could head back to the compound and help out the recently freed victims.
He already had plans to put them in apartments and hire social workers to take each of their cases, with Tony’s money of course. There had to be hundreds of them freed now that he looked at the cages they once occupied. The basement was empty without their presence.
Steve walked to each corner of the room and checked thoroughly for any remaining people in need of his help. His blue eyes scanned every inch of the filthy space.
As he was walking he almost tripped over a ratty blue blanket. Steve could clearly tell there was a body under it, but wasn’t sure if whoever it was could possibly still be alive.
It didn’t matter how much death or sorrow he saw in this world, he would never get used to how it made him feel.
He mentally prepared himself as he slowly touched the corner of the blanket to unwrap the person tucked inside of it. He pulled and the blue blanket slowly unraveled to reveal a tiny girl. She was clearly malnourished and her brown hair was thin. Her boney arms were wrapped around her torso in a last ditch effort to keep herself warm. Her eyes were squeezed shut and there was no color on her face, she looked like a ghost.
Steve’s heart squeezed as he came to the conclusion she must be dead. He was almost sure she was gone but he was trained to always do a medical assessment on victims, even if you thought they were deceased. He pressed two of his fingers against her cold neck to check for a pulse. Steve unexpectedly felt a slow, faint heartbeat.
He jumped into action picking up the girl who couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds. He could feel her rib cage against his chest when he pulled her against his body. She was clearly freezing cold and her small body shivered without the blanket that she was previously covered with.
Steve had no choice but to pick up the disgusting blanket she was once swaddled in. He wrapped it tight around her body and hurried out of the basement she resided in.
He walked as quickly as he could to the black SUV that was going to be taking him, Natasha, and Clint back to the compound.
Nat and Clint were already there waiting on him. As he slipped inside with the tiny girl in his arms the pair both looked down at her curiously.
“Is she alive?” Clint was the first to break the silence as the car sped off to the other side of down.
“Barely. She’s holding on but her heartbeat is faint and she’s practically frozen,” Steve answered, concern etched on his handsome face.
“I have some emergency blankets and hand warmers in the back,” Nat remembered. She didn’t even wait for a response, she just jumped over the seats and came back with two shiny blankets and a package of hot hands.
Steve replaced the torn blue blanket with two shiny silver ones. He activated the hot hands and placed them on her neck and stomach.
“She’s tiny. Her ribs are poking out and it looks like she hasn’t been fed in weeks. The guys that took the prisoners out missed her,” Steve explained as the SUV turned harshly in the New York traffic.
Steve tried not to be furious that his rookies missed her small body, but how could he when he almost did the same?
“There’s no way she makes it through the night. The girl is practically dead,” Clint commented leaning back against the black leather seating.
Steve’s face turned angry, “She’s not an animal. Don’t speak about her that way.”
His oddly protective nature was no surprise to anyone in the car. He had always been a fiercely protective man, which is most of the reason he saves lives.
“I’m just saying not to get your hopes up about her.”
“I’m taking her to medical and they’ll get some food and water in her and it will be fine,” Steve didn’t know if he was reassuring Clint or himself.
There was no way in hell he was letting this girl die. He would do anything in his power to prevent a civilian casualty. Especially for a defenseless young girl barely holding on.
The car eventually made it to the compound and the girl’s body had become a bit warmer since the beginning of the ride. Steve rejoiced but he knew they weren’t out of the woods yet.
He scrambled to get her to the medical wing and have Banner and one of the doctors look at her.
As soon as the doctors saw her they immediately hooked her frail body up to an IV. He could tell by their expressions that they weren’t very hopeful for her recovery.
“We are getting a feeding tube in her as soon as possible. It seems she has no underlying disease. She’s just severely malnourished and dehydrated,” One of the female doctors explained to Steve.
“Is she going to be okay?”
The doctor’s mouth went into a thin line and her eyebrows lowered in sympathy, “I’m afraid it’s just a waiting game now, Mr. Rogers.”
Steve’s heart dropped. He imagined in his mind that this young girl spent her life in the underground facility she was kept. She had probably never felt a summer breeze through her hair, or the sun on her skin. He wanted more than anything for her to be okay so she could feel those things.
It pissed him off that she wouldn’t get to have those simple pleasures in life. She deserved those things. He had never even heard the fragile girl speak or even seen her open her eyes for that matter, but Steve was fighting for her. He was going to stay there and he was going to be an advocate for her and root for her because it’s likely no one else had ever done that for her before.
“Banner,” Steve barked out, “I want you to do everything you can for her. I mean absolutely everything. I’m counting on you to keep her alive.”
Banner’s eyes widened, “Cap..”
“No,” Steve stopped him, “No excuses. Just make sure she makes it through the night.”
Banner just sighed and nodded, he knew there was no arguing with Steve.
There was no way Steve could just go to his bunk without knowing what was going to happen to her. He sat down on one of the black vinyl seats stuffed in the corner of the room. He was not going to take his eyes off of the girl layed in the hospital bed. He felt like if he did she might disappear or waste away.
He knew she was strong, she had to be. She had spent her life in that warehouse afterall. He prayed she was still holding onto that strength.
Steve tried not to think about the horrors she must’ve gone through before ending up in his arms, but he almost couldn’t help it. Those thoughts intruded into his consciousness until he felt like it was eating him alive.
Doctors and nurses filtered in and out of the room but Steve’s presence was a permanent fixture. Eventually Bucky stepped into the room to check on Steve.
“You know you’ve been in here for hours watching a girl get fed through a tube, right?”
Steve sighed at the simplicity of that statement. It was so much more than that. He almost felt as if him being there was passing on his fighting spirit to her. He didn’t know if that was true or not, but what if it was and he left her to fend for herself?
“I know.”
“Wanda made lasagna, do you want me to bring you some?”
Bucky was sympathetic to Steve. Bucky could remember the first time he himself had lost a civilian, and it hurt like hell. They were supposed to be the guys that saved everyone, and when you can’t it’s a shitty feeling.
“No thanks, Buck. I think I’ll just stay right here,” Steve answered without taking his eyes off her sleeping form.
Bucky knew there wasn’t much else he could do for his friend so he just got up from the seat and left him to his thoughts.
Steve was relieved to be alone once again. He felt like he was there for hours upon hours, but he didn’t care. He would sit in this vinyl seat for the rest of his life if that kept the poor girl alive.
“Mr. Rogers,” the doctor’s voice knocked Steve from his thoughts.
He looked up at her with hope in his eyes.
“She’s taking her feeding tube very well and the intravenous fluids have hydrated her well enough that her heart rate is back up. I’m confident she’ll wake up in a couple of hours.”
Both Steve and the doctor had huge smiles on their faces, “Thank you so much Dr. Lim. What’s going to happen when she wakes up?”
“She’s going to be incredibly weak. I want her to stay in the medical wing under my supervision for at least a couple of days after she wakes up. She has a long road of recovery ahead of her but I’m confident.”
Steve almost started celebrating right there in front of the entire medical staff. He kept his composure but the smile on his face seemed to stay in place. He still didn’t want to leave her but he was so happy she was fighting.
For the first time since he had brought her back to the compound he stood up and walked over to her bed. Her eyes were still shut and she was still asleep but there was a red tint on her cheeks that made Steve’s chest feel like there were fireworks going off inside of him. He could remember a mere ten hours ago when her face was completely void of any color.
He stood next to her bed and took her hand in his. Her skin wasn’t quite as warm as his, super soldier serum and all that, but it was still significantly better than the way he had found her.
Stever rubbed his thumb across the smooth skin on the back of her hand. He smiled down at her. He wished she would wake up so he could tell her how brave he thought she was.
As the thought crossed his mind her eyes slowly fluttered open. Steve quickly dropped her hand and looked down at her. He pressed the button above her head that called for the doctor.
He watched as she took in her surroundings and finally him.
The girl opened her mouth to speak, “Stop,” he said quickly, “Don’t speak, you’ll strain yourself.”
He could tell she was scared out of her mind but she obeyed anyway.
He heard the footsteps of Dr. Lim run into the room. Both Steve and the girl looked at the doctor’s frantic expression. Dr. Lim realized nothing was wrong and put her hand over her heart.
“You scared me so bad,” she spoke breathlessly, “I thought she had coded.”
Steve shook his head, “No, she’s okay. She’s awake.”
“I’ll call the nurses to take your vitals and bring you some water,” Dr. Lim turned and walked out of the room.
Steve’s attention was back on the girl in the hospital bed.
“My name is Captain Steve Rogers. I found you in the care of some very bad people. I’m here to help you,” he tried to speak to her as gently as he possibly could. He wanted her to be comfortable.
“You are such a fighter,” he praised her, “All you have to do now is rest. No one is going to hurt you anymore.”
He watched her muscles lose their tension when he reassured her that he was going to keep her safe. He felt the girl’s trust in him without her having to say a word.
It was clear that even though she was awake, she was weak and tired. Steve put his hand against her forehead and pushed the hair out of her face.
The nurses came in shortly after and handed Steve a cup of water with a straw sticking out of it. The nurses explained to him that she would be using a feeding tube for a while before she could eat solids again but she still needed to drink a good amount of water.
It seemed that the hospital staff had deemed Steve as her caregiver and he was tasked with helping her drink water as well as keep her company and hold her gaunt hand.
Steve held up the straw to her lips and entertained her with the plots of the movies he had seen recently. He told her in detail about Star Wars and Cinderella while she tried to push the straw away from her mouth.
He sat and spoke to her for hours, even at one point making a nurse bring him chapstick to put on her dry lips. He continued to talk to her softly even after she had drifted off to sleep.
During the night, he sat next to her hospital bed with his head propped on an extra pillow the nurses had given him. Steve never slept though.
Every time his eyes shut he was scared she would stop breathing. Somehow, at around 3 a.m. the next morning he finally found peace with his head layed on the hospital bed. Steve drifted off into sleep with his hand over hers.
#steve rogers x reader#oc#steve rogers#sub!reader#dom!steve rogers#dark fic#read the warnings#the avengers#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha x reader#clint barton#clint x reader#bruce banner#au#defenseless
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WELCOME TO SHIELD! [CHAPTER 1]
CHAPTER 1
Pairing: Soft Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 7699 (Excluding Song Lyrics)
Warnings: Soft Dark!Bucky Barnes, Manipulation, Dark Themes, Swearing, Mentions of death, Mind manipulation, Emotional manipulation, ...
Disclaimer: This WILL have grammatical errors. No, I cannot fix it. I don't possess the intellectual ability to do it myself.
PROLOGUE
Kiss me once
Then, kiss me twice
Then, kiss me once again
It’s been a long, long time...
You could hear the faint sound of music that was playing from the living room. You knew it was coming from your living room, because that was the only place in the house you kept that record player in.
It wasn’t playing on the radio, no. You knew it was playing on the record player because that song was the only song your husband chooses to listen to on it. He had refused to listen to that song anywhere else.
A soft smile graces your face at the memory of your husband’s stubbornness when you had first brought it up. It had been at the time that you had moved into SHIELD for the very first time. A lot has transpired since that blissful night.
The bright rays of the morning sun streamed its way into your bedroom. Through the slits of the curtain, the heat had welcomed itself into your marital bedroom.
You let out a sigh of contentment before humming along to the tune of the song that you knew all too well.
Lying on the soft mattress, everything was just right. The morning was seeming to be alright, the music that woke you up was nostalgic, and with your face basking in the sun that was shining on you, you couldn't think of anything that could make this moment any better than it already was.
Eyes heavy, you were still tired. You give in to your exhaustion and close your eyes, allowing it to take over. You try to relish in the morning that had barely begun.
It had been like this ever since moving to SHIELD. It turned out to be one of the best decisions you and James have ever made.
Other than getting married, of course.
The serenity that had graced you both since then had felt unreal. Every morning felt like reliving a perfect memory being played over and over again.
You bury yourself deeper into the sheets of the bed, hoping to fall back to sleep. A feeble attempt at taking advantage of the peace.
Whirling around and attempting to wrap your arms around your husband so you could curl up into him, but it was empty.
Eyes remaining shut, you patted the space where your husband was supposed to be. Nothing. No James.
You immediately force your eyes open at the discovery of your husband’s disappearance.
It wasn’t like him to wake up before you. While you were already getting ready to cook breakfast, he should still be getting some shut eye.
He enjoys the sleep too much, he had admitted to you over one vodka shot too many.
Your brows furrow as you start to wonder where he might be. He couldn’t have just vanished did he?
An unfamiliar feeling of paranoia suddenly overcomes you. Your mind is immediately flooded with a litany of questions and terrifying possibilities pertaining where he could be at the very moment.
As you start to rise out of bed to investigate what might have happened, you suddenly hear footsteps drawing closer to your room.
Panic takes over and you immediately jolt out of bed, quickly making a beeline for your vanity.
Sitting atop was an assortment of different variations of hairsprays and aromatic perfumes.
You study the array of beauty enhancers you owned.
You could use any of these to spray the intruder’s eyes to buy yourself some time and find your husband.
You reach down and grab your can of hairspray, clutching it tightly in your hand.
You pause.
Intruder?
Why on earth would there be an intruder?
You ponder.
Why had you suddenly thought of an intruder?
You’ve never had intrusive thoughts like before. Why were they starting now?
You convinced yourself that you knew with every inch of your fiber that SHIELD was an extremely secure town. The likelihood of an intruder arriving at your house was quite literally, zero.
The statistics that were presented at the pool club to everyone recently remained blank. No crimes, no criminals. The town was clean. Too clean.
The sound of footsteps grow louder.
This neighborhood was the safest one James had found. Why would the thought even cross your mind. W-
Thud. Thud. Thud.
You feel your grip tighten on the hairspray, one finger already reaching up to unscrew the cap.
“Doll, are you awake?” Somewhat muffled, your husband's voice could be heard through the other side of the wooden door.
Ah, there he was.
You let out a sigh of relief as you gently set the hairspray back down on the vanity and reach for a hairbrush instead.
Quickly, you tiptoe back. Creeping back into bed, you relax against the headboard. You look around the room, trying to scan for any indication that you had left the bed.
The coast was clear.
Draping the blanket over yourself once more, you rumple it up for good measure. You bring the hairbrush to your hair and start brushing before you nod.
“Doll? You in there?” Bucky knocks again. ”I brought breakfast with me.” The muffled voice continues to call out.
Any sense of panic you were feeling quickly evaporates into nothingness upon hearing his voice for the second time that morning.
Your body relaxes into the sheets once more, this time with the comfort of knowing your husband was in the house with you. You were as safe as you could possibly be.
He knocks again. “Doll?”
Realization dawns upon you. You start giggling. He can’t see you nod, silly.
You calm yourself down and clear your throat before calling out. “Yes darling, I’m awake. Come in!”
The door slowly creaked open, revealing your husband wearing an apron and holding what seemed to be newly cooked breakfast on a tray.
Your jaw almost draws slack at the domestic sight presenting itself in front of you.
The tray had a plate filled with bacon and eggs. From where you could see, it looked like it was fashioned to shape into a smiling face.
Two eggs for eyes and strips of bacon strategically formed to create a smiling face.
There was a crystal glass vase you had never seen before to occupy the tray, along with a rose fit in it.
He’s making his way towards you with a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. This sort of thing hardly ever occurred, but you could already presume what he already had in mind.
“Oh, I’ve got morning breath- You really wouldn't want to-” You tried to stop him. You really did. But his lips were on yours before you could even finish warning him. ”-Mpfh”.
You instinctively react by placing your hands on both sides of his face.
“Worth it.”
The smile that spreads across his flawlessly sculpted face says it all.
You scowl back at the lovesick puppy that you referred to as your husband.
Taking a good look at him, he was in your frilly yellow apron that had little sunflowers plastered all over it. And he looked so damn handsome in it.
“Here, I got up early and I made you breakfast.” He places the tray on your lap and proceeds to sit on the edge of the bed right next to you.
You put down the hairbrush on your bedside table and cautiously hold the tray so you could move over to make room for your husband to sit beside you on the edge of the bed.
"Yes, I can see that." The plate grins at you and you ask. "What’s the occasion?" You take the fork and the knife from the tray and begin to cut through the egg. The egg's yolk spills out onto the surrounding whites and onto the plate below it.
Or should you call it the eye?
You take a bite out of it, and the flavor of the evenly salted egg hits your tongue. Moving on to another, you pierce through the bacon this time and as it enters your mouth you almost let out a moan. The bacon was crispy, just the way you liked it.
“Nothing. Can’t I just make breakfast for my best girl?”
You cut another portion off of the egg and raise the fork up to his mouth. You opened your mouth, encouraging him to do the same.
Your husband appeared to be taken aback by the fork that you shoved in his face. His eyes darted up to you and he gave you an even more astonished look.
Your mouth remains agape, waiting for him to do the same.
He gives in and agrees by opening his mouth without resistance. You feed him the piece that was on the fork to eat.
He takes his time chewing the food. After tasting it carefully, you await his response. He gives his own masterpiece a satisfied hum of approval.
“Isn’t it just delicious?”
“Why? Were you expecting any less from me?”
“Of course not. Just wanted you to enjoy it just once. Because you’re not getting the rest of it.” A cheeky look on your face. You were very serious, though.
“Is that so?”
“Mhm.” You hum.
You return to slicing off individual portions of the breakfast for yourself.
“Mmm, you know what? your best girl wouldn’t mind waking up to this everyday,”
"Don't push it, doll." You can tell he was messing around with you despite his attempt to sound sincere.
You grin at him and take another bite from your breakfast anyway.
“What are you doing at home? Don’t you have work today?” You ask him, still trying to chew on the bacon that was in your mouth.
Just before beginning to speak, he presses a thin line with his mouth and then opens it once again.
“You know I don’t like it when you talk while chewing.”
You make sure that you have completely swallowed your breakfast before mumbling an apology. His demeanor returns to its typical state, satisfied at that.
He leaves you to grab you a glass of water from the kitchen that he forgot to bring you. Leaving you to devour every last bit left of the hearty breakfast.
You were getting close to finishing the rest of the meal when you heard his footsteps return.
You were eating the last few pieces of bacon that were left on the plate when you heard James making his way back to the bedroom. You laid the utensils down and wiped your mouth with your wrist.
He approaches you with a glass of water, then lifts up to your lips. Tilting it slightly enough for it not to spill on the sheets of the bed.
“James, I’m a grown woman for goodness sake! I can do thi-”
“Ah, ah, ah,”
He imitates you by opening his mouth similarly as you did to him earlier. You look up to see him leaning towards you waiting for you to part your lips. He raises his eyebrow as if he weren’t aware of what he was doing.
Smug bastard.
Still, you cave in anyway. You open your mouth for him.
You let him feed you the water to sate off your thirst and then you wipe off the water encompassing your mouth with the back of your hand.
He places the glass down then gathers the used dishes on the tray. “Go on, take a shower. I’ll take care of the dishes.” He urged on.
“What? No. I can wash the dishes. I do it all the time! You made me breakfast. It’s the least I could do” You declare, your hands flopping in your lap, whining like a child who had been denied a toy.
“No, I’ve got it. My ma raised a gentleman. Go on, take a nice hot shower for me will you?” He leans over, fixing the well used items that you had left on the tray.
He removes the glass vase from the tray and places it on your nightstand before returning to arranging the remaining dishes to fit on the tray.
“Come on, honey. Think of it as a way to repay you for this great morning you’ve given me?” You pout at him, persuading him to give in to the sweet surrender.
Still sweetly cupping his face with your soft hands, You can’t help it. You drag your fingertips slowly to his chin. Tilting it, you kiss him delicately on the mouth.
Your kiss tasted like the breakfast you just had.
Pulling away, you can see his face burn at the short kiss you gave him.
You could do the smallest things and commit the tiniest of acts and he would still swoon.
“Nah, you don’t have to repay me for anything. Ever. You’re my wife, and I’m just happy you’re here with me, Okay?” He places his own hand on top of yours, clasping them together.
He brings your hand to his lips instead where he’d rather have it, and he leaves a gentle kiss. His breath as warm as the light morning sun.
The overwhelming romance made it impossible for you to suppress the smile that broke out on your face.
All of that ended up being inconsequential after the devil in your ear suddenly muttered a thought that was reiterated in your head.
After your hands have found their way back to his flawlessly chiseled face, you give his mouth one more peck before making your way to the door of the bathroom. Fully aware of the gaze that never once left you.
Before you fully emerge yourself inside to take a well deserved heated shower, you spin and lean on the doorframe.
“Join me?”
An innocent smile designed to entice even the most corrupted, graces your face.
Winnifred Barnes may have raised a gentleman, but deep down James Buchanas Barnes was still a man.
Besides, leaving the dishes for a while wouldn’t hurt anybody… right?
—
Taking one last look in the mirror to make sure not a single strand of your perfectly styled hair was out of place, you grab the cherry red lipstick on top of your vanity and swipe it on your lips.
Trying to look at it from every angle you could, you had to make sure it looked absolutely perfect. You grab a tissue and wipe the exorbitant excess of lipstick that didn’t need to be there.
You put the cap back on the tube and smack your lips to achieve the perfect lipstick look. No smudges that escaped your lips.
And as the movies would go, you hear the honk of Natasha’s car indicating that she’s arrived.
You hurriedly grab your purse and take another glance into your vanity mirror and wiping
away the strand that had managed to already frame your face. Perfect.
Feet thundering on the wooden floors, you sprint to the front door to get there as fast as you can.
You wouldn’t want to leave the girls waiting. You knew that Nat loved you, but that woman deals with two kids on the daily. Endless screaming, crying, whining children that got her relentlessness.
And with children inheriting her resilience, it was without a doubt that her patience was hanging by a single, tiny thread.
Successfully balancing the purse on your hand and the keys on your hand quickly locking your front door, you turn around and see the girls.
It wasn't often that you locked the door to your house when you left. SHIELD was safe. In fact, maybe a little too safe.
You knew there hadn’t been a single robbery in this utopia you called home since it was first built. Not a single robbery or theft. It was as if crime was merely a thought that just occured in your minds.
But since this morning, it was like something had changed. The air felt a little more weary than it usually did.
You push the intrusive thoughts out of your mind and stuff the key deep inside the vicinity of your purse.
Natasha’s hand was on the wheel, and the other was leaning over the car frame grasping a cigarette. She was clad in a stunning– as always– casual black dress that brought out the red of her fiery hair.
You give them a cheerful wave and walk over to Natasha’s sleek black car. A 1964 Buick Riviera Convertible.
The gorgeous car was like a shiny gold token in SHIELD. It had sparked outrage when it first made its appearance outside Nat’s closed garage. The stunning woman who was driving the stunning car made the men of the town grow green with envy.
Your husband was a stubborn man though. He’d argue that the Ford Thunderbolt you owned was far more remarkable than the Buick.
And that was how gatherings were spent, your husband’s unrelenting determination and your best friend’s prideful attitude causing bloodshed on the battlefield.
Whilst you and your other less vehicle absorbed friend remained on the sidelines taking advantage of the alcohol making sure they weren’t going to tear each other's hair off.
The only person allowed to aggressively put their hands in your husband's hair was you.
He explicitly made that very clear one long night ages ago.
The glossy car glistened under the golden sun. You wanted to run your hands over it, but at the same time you didn’t want to ruin the perfect vehicle she lets you ride in all the time.
You smile happily as you walk away from the house. Your purse slung over one arm, you give them a joyful wave. The flowy skirt of your dress bouncing with each step you made towards the car.
Wanda quite almost squealed at the sight of you. Her voluminous curls bouncing around as she moves closer to the door and opens it for you.
She and her husband, Vision, have been trying to conceive a child for as long as you can remember. At the most recent party hosted by the golden couple, Vision revealed that Wanda had been under the impression that she was pregnant for quite some time but had recently taken a test and discovered that she was not.
You had suggested that you could go shopping as a way to cheer her up and take her mind off what had upset her. Vision was incredibly delighted by the idea and he couldn't wait to tell his wife all about it.
Now here she was, the bubbly redhead was basically vibrating with excitement at the prospect of buying more pretty dresses and shoes with her friends.
“Oh my goodness, I was flipping through this magazine at home when I saw the loveliest dress! Have you seen it? Oh, it has such a beautiful combination of reds and yellows!” Wanda could not simply stop gushing about the dress the moment you entered the car.
"I think I brought the magazine with me in my purse." she said. She grabs the purse that was sitting next to her and starts searching through the contents to find it. You close the car door shut and attempt to make yourself as comfortable as possible for the ride to the mall.
“Well, whatever it looks like, I’m sure it would look great on you Wanda.” Natasha takes another drag from her cigarette and then begins to pull the car away from your house.
“Definitely, Wanda! I’ve never known someone who has better taste in fashion than you do.”
She frowned slightly, when she realized her attempts were futile. "Oh, I must have left it back home.”
The feeling of sadness didn't linger for long. Immediately, she was taken by the beautiful image of the dress reappearing in her mind.
“Well when you see it at the mall, you’re gonna realize how wonderful this dress truly is. I’m certain of it. Just you wait!”
“We’ll take your word for it, hun.” Natasha casts a look at the seat behind her and smiles gently at the bubblier redhead. She immediately turns back to watch the road she was driving on. The cigarette that had previously been in her hand had been disposed of.
Now that you acknowledge it, there were hardly any vehicles on the road. The only sounds that could be distinctly heard were the voices of your friends and the motor of the convertible.
It was well into the Thursday afternoon, the warmth of the summer sun radiating off your skins.
The majority of the town consisted mostly of families and married couples. Only a handful of women in the town learned how to drive. Fortunately for you, Natasha was one of them.
Unlike you and Wanda, she didn’t have a husband to drive her and her children. She doesn’t seem bothered about it. When you had brought it up, she would just shrug it off and pay no matter to her situation.
Each day your husband left and went off to work, you had become more and more determined to figure out how to power a vehicle.
The longer you stayed at home cleaning and cooking and cooking and cleaning, you were itching to do something else.
Although, when you brought it up with James, he brushed it aside before you could even finish making your case.
Natasha was a fast driver. Her reckless behavior was a common topic of discussion among the local gossips, but she didn’t seem to care about it. As long as her children weren't involved, she couldn’t give a flying damn about anything else going on.
Wanda's expression of horror was prevalent as she struggled to maintain her curls in place as the car sped along the deserted street. You were quite fond of your friend's spontaneity.
You attempt to relax in your seat and try to savor the fresh breeze of the air hitting your skin.
You reach inside your purse to retrieve your sunglasses and slide them onto your face. Slightly leaning back into the comfort of the leather seats, you let your hair flow through the air as you reel it all in.
—
“Look! Isn’t it just wonderful!” Wanda picks the dress off the rack. She brings the dress to her chest and turns to the mirror beside her.
Looking up from the dress rack you were browsing up, you giggle at Wanda’s attempts at modeling the outfit.
“Look! Isn't it just wonderful!" Wanda picks the dress off from the rack. She pulls the dress closer to her figure and examines herself in the mirror that was standing beside her.
You can't seem to help but release a hearty laugh as you look up from the dress rack you were perusing and watch Wanda make an attempt at modeling the outfit.
She gleefully hums as she sways back and forth with the dress held over her shoulders.
You return your attention to your own chosen rack and proceed to dissect the several dresses that have piqued your interest at the moment.
“How about you, Nat? Have you found anything that you might like yet?” You called out, in hopes that the woman could hear your voice from whatever part of the boutique she was hiding in.
“Oh, I’m not getting anything” She says with her legs crossed in her little corner. You divert your eyes to the voice. Sitting with hands extended on the ottoman she continues. “I love my little rascals, but the moment I bring a brand new dress home, they’ll tear it all apart before it could see another light of day”
“Oh the children! How are the little ones doing?” Wanda gives the mother a non-malicious sideway glance, draping the beloved dress over her arm so she could browse some more.
Natasha’s face instantly brightens up at Wanda’s interest in her children. “Cooper just won a science competition at school for making a baking soda volcano. My little genius.” She gushes at her eldest’s achievement.
Auntie Wanda placed a hand over her heart. “Oh my, they grow up so fast! Next thing you know sweet little Lila will be bringing home a boy of her own.”
"No, but little Nate has begun to learn how to crawl. Ever since he realized that he could bring himself to different places, he hasn’t stopped since," she says in exasperation at her youngest.
You were only able to take a fleeting glimpse at Nat, but even that was enough for you to notice dark circles forming under her eyes. Motherhood truly was something else.
“One time, I caught him trying to crawl inside one of the drawers in his room.” She thinks. “I should probably replace those,”
“Even you’re not as daring as sweet little Nate. Are you certain he’s your kid?” Wanda jokes, letting out her own giggle at her empty joke.
“Hey, you’re being incredibly uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal. What’s going on?” Nat nods at you.
“Nothing's wrong” You run your hand over the striped pattern dress laying in front of you. "Just thinking about Bucky."
“You wanna talk about it, sweetie?”
“No, no. I’m alright. Just a little bit in over my head” You fake a laugh. “Don’t let little old me stop you guys. I’m just gonna take a look at these dresses.”
The two redheads were now both looking at you, clearly concerned at the state you were in.
“Bucky has been nagging me for a few new ones anyway. See,” You dig through the purse and raise his credit card instead of your own. “Asked me to buy a few extra”
Wanda lets out an audible gasp as she sets her sight on the SHIELD issued company credit card. “Lucky girl!”
—
Shopping bags resting snugly beside you, you take a lick at the vanilla ice cream cone you had gotten right after you left the boutique. You bought a few dresses to impress your husband. Most of them etched with floral designs, seeing as those were the ones he liked the most. Said he didn’t like how plain the solid colored dresses were.
You and Wanda were sitting on one of the benches right outside the boutique. The two of you were waiting for Natasha to pull her car around to pick the two of you up so the lot of you could head home.
The sun was setting and it wasn’t as hot as when you’d first arrived at the boutique, but the chill of the ice cream felt like pure bliss as you felt the heat take off.
“Thank you” Was all Wanda said beside you. Her own shopping bags were beside her. She had her own ice cream cone, but strawberry instead of vanilla. She was already down to biting the cone of hers.
“For what?” Confusion took over your face as you continue licking the vanilla. People often complain that it’s too ‘bland’, but you’d beg to differ. It was just perfect for you.
“I know why we went out today. I know that Vis told you about the negative pregnancy test.” She brings the cone to her lap. “This made me feel better, it really did. Thank you.”
You stare at the doe eyed girl in front of you. She wouldn’t tell, but you knew she was drowning in a deeper depth of her own pain from not being able to conceive a child. But here she was, thanking you for easing her pain for just a few hours.
“Wanda,” You cooed at the girl who was feigning tears.
You take your empty hand and place it on top of hers that was anxiously rubbing at each other.
You try to offer her solace in the way you know best. You rub tiny circles on her hands, attempting to soothe the poor girl with the touch of your hand.
“Wanda, you are the most maternal person I know. There is no one I know who deserves a sweet little baby more than you do,” You start.
"Wanda, out of everyone I know, you are the most maternal person I know. Yes, while Nat may already have children of her own, it took her a little while remember? She doesn’t hold the same natural, nurturing heart you do.” You start.
“Maybe the universe has different plans for you right now, but trust me, your happy ending definitely includes the family you’ve always dreamed of.”
You can feel the ice cream melting reach your fingers, but you brush it off for now.
“There are gonna be complications such as this one, but believe me, you’ll get your own little redhead… or blonde.” You smiled at her. A true heartfelt genuine one.“One day, I promise you.”
And yes, there was absolutely no guarantee that Wanda would be able to conceive, you weren’t a witch for pete’s sake!
But you knew that this amazing woman filled with love and pure longing would get everything she ever wanted. Nobody deserved it more than she did.
Right now she was going through a tough time, and you had no wanted to be here with her. Dresses and heels aside.
She takes your hand and wraps both of her own around yours. She drops her eyes to her lap and onto your hands, her eyes widen.
You cannot help but notice the shift in her demeanor as you continue to stare at her. "Wanda, what's wrong, honey?"
She looks around at the shopping bags that are sitting on the bench, and her mouth drops open.
“Oh no, It’s gone!”
“What’s gone?” You try not to immediately lose your composure and freak out.
She conceals herself by shoving her head inside one of the bags.
“My purse. I think I left it inside the boutique!” She exclaims while continuing her search for it beside the shopping bags.
You let out a sigh of relief. You were safe. “You go get it. I can look after these. It’d be such a shame to lose such a pretty purse.”
“Really? Thank you! Thank you so much!" She shares her gratitude loudly. Fortunately, the mall district was completely devoid of people, saving her from anyone looking at her in a state of panic.
“I promise that I won't keep you waiting! I promise." She makes a dash for the boutique that was located behind you.
As you sit on the bench, you watch your friend zip back inside the boutique to retrieve the purse she had left behind.
The melted vanilla ice cream on your right hand suddenly makes itself known. You can feel it
coat your hand. You outstretch your hand away from your lap and away from the bench to avoid it from spilling on it.
You didn't have any tissues in the purse that you were carrying. You wince at the sticky feeling coating your hands and spilling on the pavement.
The familiar car pulls up. Natasha is wearing sunglasses as she leans on the frame of her car. “Whacha’ got there?” Indicating to the cone in your hand.
“Ice cream.” You stare at it again. “Well, melted ice cream. Sorry, you were taking too long.”
She shrugs. “Where’s Wanda?”
“She went back inside to get her purse. She asked me to look over the shopping bags”.
Natasha's eyebrow raise at that statement. She took off her sunglasses and scanned the area around her. As she looked around the deserted street, the only things that she could see that resembled living, breathing humans were the mannequins on the other side of the glass.
“Well, can’t have your pretty little dresses get stolen by… air?”
“Hardy har har. She’s probably already gotten it back right now.” You turn around and squint, trying to get a better look at the boutique from the glass door. Only for you to see Wanda happily scanning another rack of clothing.
Oh, Wanda.
—
Carefully slicing potatoes to boil, you hum a tune that you had heard on the radio earlier as you wait for the pot to heat up on the stove.
Through the kitchen window, you can see the flashing lights of your husband’s car driving into your driveway. He had finished his day's work and returned home to you.
Not long afterwards, you heard his own key rattling on the door knob.
You put down the knife you were holding before making your way towards him. He gives you a fake smile before pulling you into a kiss. You see right through him the moment you see it.
“Hello.”
“M’tired. What are we having for dinner?”
“Um, well, the steak’s already on the table, and I was just finishing up the mashed potatoes to pair it with.” You gestured to the cutting board that was left alone.
He hums in acknowledgement. Pacing away from you and to your living room, you could see him removing his suit jacket and carelessly tossing it on the couch.
You rush back to the kitchen as you go back to cutting the potatoes. The water was well heated enough to dump the peeled, cut potatoes into.
You were hoping that even if he wouldn't tell you why he was feeling so down, the steak dinner would at least make him feel better.
But before you could dump the potatoes onto the heat, you almost jump when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. He burrows his neck into the safety of your neck.
You lower the cutting board on the countertop and place your hands on top of his instead.
“Honey, are you sure you’re alright?”
“M’fine. Don’t worry about me. Go back to whatever you were doing. It smells great by the way.”
“Thanks. I would be really concerned if it didn’t.” You kid, trying to make light of the situation in an effort to hide the despair you feel from him icing you out.
You loathed whenever you saw him in this state. Miserable. The realization that there was nothing you could do brought on a sense of helplessness and the feeling of wanting to die.
He spins you around to face him. You bring your eyes to gaze directly into his eyes. It calmed you staring into the deep ocean blue. You felt at ease as you stared into the cerulean depths of his eyes.
“Everything’s fine. I'm here with you, aren’t I?”
You didn’t know what to make of his secrecy. If he didn’t want to tell you, you weren’t going to pry. But you didn’t want him to continue to wallow in his misery alone.
As there was nothing else left to do, you stand on your tiptoes and plant a kiss on his forehead. After a long whole day at work, your shampoo's scent remained lingering in his hair.
“I love you, James”
“I love you too.” He replies back, meaning every single word. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you. I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.” He confesses.
“Neither do I. I ask myself the same thing every day. You are my everything. Always have, and always will be” You admit to him as well.
He pulls you closer and draws you in for another kiss . This one was much lighter, anno longer void of the sensation of his heavy heart holding him down.
“Go on, gorgeous. You go sit back, I’ll finish the mashed potatoes.”
You gape at the man in front of you. “What? No! You already made breakfast for me this morning. Also, this meal was supposed to make you feel better!”
“Well, I’d feel a whole lot better if you sat back like a good girl instead.”
“You can do that right?” He challenged you.
“I-yes?” You stutter, too baffled to form another word
“Go on.” He nods, crossing his arms together as he leans against the countertop.
As you make your way to the kitchen island you untie your apron, the very same one that he had been wearing earlier this morning.
He was leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over each other, his eyes were focused on you the entire time. His challenging gaze never left you as you walked away farther from him.
You felt small as you climbed onto the stool. You surrender the apron and rest your hands on your lap. You felt like a reprimanded child who was trying to avoid being admonished further
“Good girl.” Was all he said before turning back around to pour the potatoes in the steaming pot and continuing the meal you had begun.
—
The moment you open the door, you are engulfed by the pitch black darkness inside.
You wouldn't have known there was a person in the room if you hadn't heard his screams that filled the corridor.
Opening the door wider, the light coming from the hallway filling the room illuminated the haunted man inside.
He was covered in a thick layer of his own sweat, strands of his slightly soaked hair clinging to his face as he heaved heavily on the bed.
“Bucky?”
You squint, trying to get a better look at it all. His room was a mess. The bed linen was disheveled. The pillows he was using –or not using, you couldn’t be really sure– were on the floor. The lamp that had once been on his bedside was now on the floor, shattered into tiny little shards.
“Don’t come near me.” He warned you. His broken voice came out so soft it might have shattered your heart.
In any other situation, you wouldn’t go near him. Steve had advised you, Nat did too. Everyone did. He had a metal arm for fuck’s sake! If he lashed out on you, he could crack your neck before you could even open your mouth to scream for help.
But when you heard his broken screams on the way to your own room, you knew he was hurting. You recognized those screams. Those were the exact same pained screams that would fill the hallways of the compound all those years ago.
Right now, you knew he was lost. Not in the literal sense. Physically speaking he was in the Avengers Compound in Upstate New York.
But right now he was lost inside the labyrinth of his own mind. Staring at his pained face, you knew he was scared and confused. You knew how he felt better than anyone.
Very carefully, you make slow, measured steps closer to him. He was staring at the empty wall in front of him. His face was blank. Unreadable.
All the other people in the compound had designed their own rooms in ways they seemed fit.
Steve hung his art on his wall. The ones recovered from a different life alongside his new and much more recent ones.
Nat and Clint had picture frames of those they loved most. You included among some of them. They had valuables that they held close to their heart scattered in their own respective rooms.
Sam had his own family pictures hung around in almost every surrounding wall. The adorable faces of his two baby nephews greeting you when you enter his room.
Wanda had her own framed pictures, along with trinkets she was able to collect upon arriving to America. Possessions that she never got to enjoy in Sokovia were embedded in different parts of her room.
After getting comfortable, you too eventually decorated your own room. Pictures of yourself, Nat, and Wanda on several different tables or shelves. Jewelry and sentimental belongings you couldn’t find in yourself to throw away were in there too in your own room, somewhere.
Everyone in the compound had unique touches that made their rooms their own. Everyone except Bucky.
He had yet to fill the room he was given. The room had nothing of value other than a recovered photograph of him and Steve from before the war, along with the furniture it came with.
Right now one of those pieces of furniture were just tiny little pieces on the floor.
“Bucky,” You whisper as quietly as possible so as not to startle the man in front of you.
Though it rendered useless because the moment his name left your lips, he recoiled at the sound of your voice.
Instinctively, you cautiously take a step back when you see him move.
You didn’t mean to react the way you did, but he didn’t know that. He saw you fearfully step away from him and it was left at that.
You weren’t typically someone who would go out of their way to make people like you, but you couldn’t leave him with that impression of you. Not when you felt so differently in truth.
Before you could take another step closer to him, you hear one word gently leave his lips
“No.”
You swallow a nervous gulp.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, Bucky.” You concede, still trying to take that step towards him.
“No. But you think I’m gonna hurt you” He says, disgusted. Though, you couldn’t exactly tell if his disdain was for himself or for you.
“No, I don’t. That was just something I carried from my past. That’s all.” You were telling him the truth.
You had a… complicated past that had its lasting effects.
Silence fills the room and you think there was nothing left to say. But to your surprise, he continues talking.
“What kind of past teaches you to defend yourself from people like me?”
You stare at the man in front of you can't help but wonder if he knows who you were. But this wasn’t about you. It was a pretty tricky question, but it was a start.
You lean on the dull wall next to you. It had no pictures, posters, or even windows. Just like the other 3 walls encompassing the room.
You cross your arms before replying. “The kind that teaches you to fight them, I guess.”
You see him trying to process what you just said.
“But I’m not here looking for a fight, Bucky.” You said, regaining your composure.
“Then why are you here?”
“I didn’t want you to be alone.”
You knew the feeling of loneliness better than anyone in the compound. For the longest time, you had no one. No one to love, no one to live for.
Even now you were still getting used to the idea of having people care about you. Care for you.
“Why? You don’t even know who I am.” He spits back immediately after hearing your confession. “You don’t know what I’ve done” By now he was glancing at the metal arm attached to his body.
“You don’t know who I am either. You don’t know what I’ve done, but you let me in your room, didn’t you?”
He scoffs in disbelief. “I’ve done bad things. Unforgivable things. Stuff an Avenger like you could never do.”
You snort at that as if he was the most hilarious person in the world telling you a joke. He looks at you with the utmost confusion etched in his face.
He still hasn’t left the position he’d been in since you entered the room, but he had calmed down since then. The tears that had been streaming down his face had stopped. His breathing wasn't as labored as they had been mere minutes ago.
If you didn’t know any better, you would say the air was even lighter than it was earlier.
“Ha, try me.”
“What are you anyway?” He asks another question, still entirely unconvinced that someone like you could understand what he’s done, let alone know what being him was like.
“Do you also have magic powers?”
“Nope.” You say popping the p.
“Do you also turn green?”
You weren’t even aware how he knew about the physicist.
“Only when Sam cooks.” You reply instead.
Sam wasn’t a bad cook at all. He was decent, or might you even say, good. Not that you would ever let the proud man hear that.
But by some unbeknownst force in the universe, whatever you had said was exactly right. Because you swear you see Bucky Barnes crack a smile at your quip.
But his face falls flat as he starts his interrogation once more.
“Do you also fly around?” He starts again.
“God no. None of that.” You say. And for real this time, you see him crack a smile. You hope in the darkness of the room that he doesn’t see you smiling like a maniac at that. You just cracked a smile out of one of the most feared assassins in the world, you didn’t want to throw him of with your own”
“You’re a super soldier?”
That had to be it. Bucky seems sure about it this time. How else could you look at him without malice knowing about the strength he possessed?
You shake your head.
You didn’t relate to him through his enhanced superstrength. Though you were also stronger than most, that wasn’t the thing that tied you to him.
What unified you to the man in front of you was knowing what it was like living with the pain and torment of being imprisoned inside the walls of your own mind. You knew what it was like to have part in bloodshed without a single bone in your body even desiring to be involved so.
You have to give it to him, his presumptions were not bad at all.
But just not quite right.
“No, I’m a Widow.”
You abruptly jerk awake from the dream. You struggle as you gasp for air. A thin layer of sweat coats the majority of your body as you catch your breath.
You glance at him and he is still deep into his slumber. His soft snores even making itself known every once in a while.
Your husband’s arms had previously wrapped his arms around your body to emit his warmth to you against the midnight chill.
Where was that place? Why did the man look exactly like James?
Your breathing remains heavy.
It may have been just a dream but waking up from it felt like a nightmare.
PROLOGUE
A/N: i'm so excited to finally post the first parts of my first ever fic on tumblr (and on ao3)! i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it. i do know that the words do get slightly repetitive, and i am working on improving on my writing so please bear with me.
please feel free to leave any comments or criticism. and thank you, thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read this. ilysm <3
divider by @promenadewithme-graphics !
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x oc#bucky x reader#bucky x oc#bucky x you#dark bucky barnes#dark soft bucky#dark avengers#poor writing#inspired by dwd and wandavision
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