#Yandere!bucky Barnes
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klaus-littlestwolf · 5 months ago
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Smut-🔥 Fluff-🧸 Series-⚜️ Headcanon-🧨 Dark-🥀 Dd/Lg-✨ A/B/O-♎️
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Series
•Y/n Pregnant w/Someone Else’s Baby 1🧨⚜️
•Pregnant with Buckys Baby Pt.2🧨⚜️
Oneshots
•What if You Knew all of Me🧸✨
•All of Me Loves All of You🧸✨
•The Curator CEO!Alpha Bucky🧸♎️
•A-Z NSFW Alphabet🧨
•Buckys Girl on her Period🧨🧸
•Mafia!Buckys Girl gets Arrested🧸✨
Yandere
•Dark NSFW Alphabet🧨🥀
•Can’t Live Without You-(Therapist)🥀🔥
•A Strange Kind of Love (Mafia!Bucky x OC x Mafia!Klaus)🥀🔥🧸
Loki- Daddy Frost Giant 🧸✨
Tony- Worked to the Bone 🧸✨
Bucky Moodboards
Random Thoughts
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highonmarvel · 2 years ago
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You Can Cry
Bucky Barnes: Biker!Bucky takes a liking to a sensitive girl. 18+ only!
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content warnings here!
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You wipe away tears as you impatiently wait for your ride to arrive, tapping your foot and hugging yourself. You don’t know why you always get so emotional, get brought to tears so easily, and your sensitivity slightly angers you, being irritated that you still cry like a child at the most silly things.
Your date had only laughed when you stared at him blankly, asking him to explain his joke again, and the rational part of you was sure he didn’t mean any harm, the rational part of you was sure it was lighthearted—he was a nice guy—but still you felt that familiar sting in your eyes at the response.
Even when you brought the night to a close, you refused a ride home from him, denying it so harshly he was stuck at the table for a bit when you stormed out, hot tears staining your cheeks, and you didn’t see him leave—maybe he was still inside and talking up another girl who didn’t take every little thing so personally.
“You sad, pretty girl?”
You startle at the voice and snap your head up to follow the sound, leading your eyes to a tall man wearing a leather jacket, leaning against the wall of the next building over to the restaurant you had stomped out of. He cards a hand through his hair and steps forward, and instinctively you step back, feeling an air of danger about him, darker than just a mugger in the night.
You wipe away the last of your tears and sniffle softly before quickly bring your focus back to the street, mentally pleading for your driver to pull up, too scared to fish your phone back out of your bag to check how far he was, and clutching your purse tighter.
He groans, “Please, sweetheart, I’m talkin’ to you.”
“No,” you reply, quietly, not making a move to look back up at his captivating blue eyes, a slight fear that if you look back at him, you’ll never be able to look away again. Or he’ll be the last thing you see, “I’m not.”
“You sure, princess?” he takes another step toward you, and this time you can’t muster up the courage to move away, frozen still, “Looked like you were cryin’.”
You grow irritated not with him but more with yourself, for somehow having shown such weakness to a man in the shadows—but how could you have known?
“I wasn’t,” you lie, finding yourself holding back tears again, begging any higher power out of the dozens believed to help you out just this one time and have your driver pull around the corner. The streets are empty and quiet, the only two people in the world you and him, and the only noise his painstakingly slow footsteps towards you, and your rapidly beating heart, “I wasn’t,” you repeat again, predicting you would sound more confident, but your voice cracks, and you wince at the sound of his sigh in response.
“Aw, don’t cry,” you gasp as he suddenly pulls you flush against his chest, caging your body to his with his right arm pressing into your lower back and his left gently gripping your chin, forcing you to look up at him. A smile spreads across his gorgeous face as your tears well up. You want to look to the sky to stop drops from falling, but you can’t, not because of his light grip, but because of that sadistic glint in his eyes, absolutely fascinating you.
A drop spills from an eye, and he tilts his head, watching it roll down your cheek. Your eyes glisten with tears and his glisten with delight, relishing in each drop that rolls down your cheek, as you can do nothing but stare up helplessly at him, paralysed by fear.
He leans down and presses a light kiss on your cheek, one you might have found loving if given to you by someone close.
“You’re so pretty,” he remarks, bringing his other hand up to cup your face, unconcerned with keeping you near, knowing you can’t move if you tried. He rubs calloused thumbs across your cheeks, wiping the tears away as he admires your features, “So pretty, doll,” he murmurs, gaze roaming your face until they land on your terrified eyes, and he smiles again.
“What? Never learned how to take a compliment, princess?”
You blink up him, starting to tremble very slightly, your mouth slightly agape. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you manage a meek, “Thank you…”
“Bucky,” he mumbles.
“Thank you, Bucky,” you repeat, just wanting him to let you go, at this point completely disinterested with where your driver is, just him to leave you alone.
“Now, won’t you tell a nice guy like me why you’re cryin’? Did someone hurt you?”
You shake your head weakly, willing yourself to just stop fucking crying.
“Don’t lie to me,” he grips your face slightly firmer, not hard, but enough to make you understand his determination, “Did some guy make you cry, angel?” he asks, gently.
Despite your better judgement, you nod; maybe that is the best judgement, to just respond the way he wants so he might just leave you alone. No, your compliance is only seeming to spur him on, as shown by a pity frown taking shape on his face, and you can’t quite place if he’s mocking you or trying to seem more empathetic in some weird way.
“No, a sweet girl like you?” he places a kiss on your forehead, “You’re precious, angel.”
You shift uncomfortably, unable read the situation, unable to tell if he’s just fucking with you or if he feels bad. And you don’t have to, because just as he pulls away to look at you, you hear tyres against gravel, a car pulling around the corner, snapping you out of your… trance, and whipping your head to see a white corolla.
“Stay beautiful, doll,” Bucky says, and he slips into the shadows before you can grasp it. Cold air rushes against your cheeks—you hadn’t realised his hands were relatively warm—making you feel more exposed. For good measure, you quickly wipe away tears before hoping into the car with a smile to your driver.
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Your date texts you the next morning, apologises for upsetting you—even though he doesn’t know how—and asks for a redo, or a second date, kinda, he puts it. With a clear mind, you do feel bad for being so dramatic and overly sensitive last night, and thinking back on it, a little rude with how short you were being with him when all he did was laugh lightly, it wasn’t malicious. He was a nice guy. You’re still shaken from the previous night, but maybe a casual date will relax you.
You agree, and he immediately responds, suggesting another restaurant for that evening.
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You feel very pretty in your dress as you enter the restaurant and sit at table. You had arrived only 10 minutes late, so maybe you should just give him more time to show up. You didn’t want to order, but the waitress seemed to be getting impatient, and so you order something light and ate alone. An hour and he still wasn’t here. Your plate is cleared away, barely anything touched, and a few teardrops splashed at the edges.
You’re sniffling in the corridor of your apartment as you fumble with your keys and stumble in, trying not to completely break down as you kick off your shoes and head straight for your bedroom, thinking that you could escape some crying if you just fell asleep.
You’re sobbing quietly as you enter, pushing the door behind you, not even caring that it didn’t really close, ready to flop onto bed.
“You sad, pretty girl?”
You gasp and spin to the sound of that familiar voice, the same words being spoken in the same tone as the previous night.
Bucky pushes the door and this time it clicks shut. He looks up at you, and his blue eyes catch the moonlight in a soft yet sinister manner, causing you to stumble back. You can barely see him through the tears blurring your vision and the dark room.
“Bucky?” you whisper, unnecessarily, seeing as of fucking course it’s Bucky.
He bends his head back slightly with a smile, “I love the way you say my name, doll. Can you say it again for me?”
You take a few steps back, heart racing faster than you ever thought it could, and let out a quiet shriek as your heel hits the foot of your bed and your fall back onto it. Bucky is hovering over you in a flash, one hand propping him up and his right slipping under your dress to rub soothing circles on your thigh.
“Did he stand you up?” he leans down, lips between your ear and neck, “He doesn’t like you, princess.”
You try not to let out a sound, but you can’t stop a choked sob from escaping, and he smiles against your neck. You turn your head away, but he stays near, his voice hovering just above your ear, “He doesn’t like you, and he can’t take care of you, sweetheart, he can’t.”
Despite your efforts, another choked gasp escapes you, and you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping he’ll just go away.
“You’re shaking,” he notes, changing his circular motions from clockwise to anti, “Are you scared, doll? Am I scaring you?”
“Yes!” you gasp as he kisses your neck.
“No…” he replies against your skin, faux-disbelief coating his tone, “But I won’t hurt you, angel; he will.”
He lies down next to you and brings his left hand up to stroke your face, “It’s okay, you can cry,” he coaxes, and you do, breath escaping your lungs in short gasps as tears fall and he wipes them away, kissing your neck and still rubbing circles on your thigh, “You can cry…”
His thumb slides to your inner thigh and you squirm, but he quickly stops you by harshly gripping your thigh. Once he’s sure you won’t twist again, he runs his finger up and down your inner thigh with a sigh.
“You’ll learn to love this, doll, but for now… you can cry…” he shifts downward and pulls your dress up, “A sweet girl like you’s gotta taste sweet too.”
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 2 years ago
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Mistake
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Pairing. Dark Bucky Barnes x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
SUMMARY: Rule number one in your relation - never try to leave Bucky.
WARNINGS: Violence; Toxic Relationship. 
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.
--
His metal fingers squeeze hard against your throat, his hold unwavering even with your nails weakly clawing at him. Your eyes roll, your body desperate for air. 
Bucky clicks his tongue, faking a pout. 
“Aw, my baby can’t breathe?” he mocks you, but you can’t bring yourself to care about his tone. Not when your lungs are painfully burning, strength leaving your body at an alarming pace.
“Maybe you should have thought about that before trying to rat out on me, babe. I don’t appreciate my girl being sneaky around my back.” he growls, all hints of mockery now gone.
His grip tightens and you cough, the lack of air hitting cryptic levels as you start to hyperventilate. 
Bucky reaches closer, nuzzling your nose with his in an almost endearing gesture, one that contrasts with the evil position he has you in. 
“Never again, okay? You’re not pulling that type of shit ever again, understood?” his voice is dead serious, ignoring how you struggle. You can barely say a word but Bucky somehow understands your submission, finally releasing you.
You fall on the ground with your body completely limp, your throat burning as precious air finally fills it. 
“You better not repeat this again.” he orders, darkness looming over his face as he looks at you. 
“Cause next time, you won’t get off the hook so easily.”   
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yandere-wishes · 1 year ago
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Normal People: "Why did u start writing Yandere content?"
Most Yandere Authors: "I wanted to express my dark desire for a forbidden romance through a creative medium. Forgoing social norms to create a love that is most cruel yet utterly true. To appease the lethal love that lays dormant within my bones, rattling me with its yearning for freedom. To show the world a love that is hideous, dangerous, yet wholly profuse. The sort of love only found under a moonless sky. A romance that can kill and heal with the same hand. To fashion ballads of broken hearts and damaged minds trapped in a waltz of shimmering hearts."
Me: I want to get kidnapped so I won't have any responsibilities.
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couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 4 months ago
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Please can we have more Yan justice league?
Maybe the reader has a boyfriend in the military so she doesn't see him much and when he comes back to visit, the go on a fancy date before they crash it?
It would make it even better if they reacted to the boyfriend about to propose to her!
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A Day in Life: Heartbreaks
Synopsis: A day in your life where your yanderes find a secret of yours and tell you another one.
Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Modern!40s!Bucky Barnes X Reader
Tw: Bucky you’re one of my fav characters from Marvel, I'm so sorry I did u dirty😭; Heavy mentions of cheating and NO forgiving; Stalking; English isn’t my 1st language.
Word count: 1k
Requested? Duh.
Extra notes: I should be studying instead of writing this. Also omg I got so many requests in just a few hours, thank you very much!! I'm writing them all!!
General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist
Since most of your days became filled with stress and anxiety, you started appreciating even more moments where you could just forget all your problems, from small ones — like, lack of motivation to go to the gym, bad hair days and an ingredient you forgot at your fridge and became rotten—, and big, out of your control ones — like seven superheroes, who you see almost everyday, stalking you.
Your boyfriend getting back was one of the best dic(k)strations.
Bucky was a sergeant, he spent weeks, even months, away from you on missions. It was hard, but you were both busy people, so your mind was usually too stimulated to think about boy problems only all day, most adults were, and you believed the hard work would be worth it one day. The future was hopefully bright.
The League never mentioned him. Actually, some of them implied more than once that they thought you were available, so they probably didn't know about your relationship. You didn't use much social media and your boyfriend got especially busy this year, so it made sense.
He paid for you to get your nails done earlier and took you to a nice restaurant. After that, Bucky took you for a walk around the city, lively and beautiful even at night, and stopped at the park where your first date happened. Everything was fine, until he got on his knees. Suddenly, seven, mostly colorful, figures descended upon you from out of nowhere, screaming.
— (Y/N)! YOU CAN'T MARRY HIM! — Flash’s voice startled you, confirming your suspicions to who the group was.
You growled.
— SERIOUSLY? LEAVE ME ALONE! IT'S MY DAY OFF! — Bucky, who had swiftly gotten up with his fast reflexes as soon as the heroes charged, blinked at the sight. He looked between you all.
— Doll? What’s this? — You looked apologetic at him.
— Sorry, Bucky. Since I got my job, my bosses got… Protective over me… — You didn't want him to get hurt. Bucky and his friends had a great sense of justice and hated bullies. He would surely want to do something if he knew the true extent of things. You also didn't want to ruin the vision he had of his idols.
Since their obsessive behavior started, you just counted your lucky stars that they would just get tired of you one day or wouldn't sabotage your relationships. They seemed fine with you having friends, but dating was different.
You turned to the League.
— Go! — They shook their heads.
— You can't trust this bastard, darling. We have proof of his betrayal to you. — You looked at Wonder Woman skeptically and crossed your arms. Bucky gulped.
— Oh, really? How so? — You raised an eyebrow.
Batman fiddled with his wrist computer, a second later, a protection was shown and different pictures and videos of your man talking and being very intimate with someone very familiar to you appeared. Your stomach churned and your heart ached.
— This is fake! Doll, you have to believe me! — Bucky cried out and got in front of you, holding your shoulders, trying to cover your vision from the images. You took a step back and kept looking at the images.
The League had more than enough means necessary to fake all of this, but you knew Natasha was Bucky’s ex, and they were still friends and coworkers, even with their intense heartbreak. You sometimes got insecure and worried since they spent so much time together, but he always told you you had nothing to worry about…
You gulped.
The League was all glaring at his back while he shouted a hundred words per minute, desperately trying to convince you he was telling the truth.
Superman growled and walked forward until he grabbed Bucky by his shoulders and pulled him away from you.
— Stay away from them, you asshole. (Y/N), I would never do that to you. — You ignored Green Lantern's words, like you were doing since the pacifier incident. You knew he was getting desperate and that made you specially scared, but at least he gave you some distance.
— Not now. — Batman took a step forward. — A few hours ago, we discovered your relationship. For security reasons, we searched, and found these pictures and conversations from his second social accounts, that he uses to commit his cheating.
— He didn't try to hide much, he thought he wouldn't get caught. — Flash stated.
— I-I need more proof… These could be old… — Your first words spoken made Bucky shut up. Mind scrambling for something.
— Let the Lasso of Truth speak for him. — In a second, the Lasso was thrown around Bucky's torso and he was squirming. — Speak, you worthless mortal! — Wonder Woman ordered.
Bucky was able to struggle for a few seconds, before he blurted out.
— It's truth! It's truth! I told her we broke up and started dating her again! I thought I could have you both at the same time!
You gasped. Your hand shot to your chest.
Flash was on your side in a second, trying to hug and comfort you, but you pushed him away. You started crying from heartbreak and anger.
— HOW COULD YOU?! — You glared at him and pointed at his face.
— Doll… I swear I love you both. But I'm also narcissistic, insecure and look down on women. — The Lasso was really doing its job. You laughed humorlessly.
You had nothing to say anymore. No reason to stay. You took advantage of his tied arms and got close, punched his nose, and stomped away.
The League contemplated going after you and trying to bring you comfort, but Batman and Martian Manhunter decided to just let Bucky go (after intimidating him so as to not get close to you again) and follow you discreetly, watching you from the shadows, intervening only if necessary.
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sarahowritesostucky · 8 months ago
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Happy Little Family
📖"A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat: Just like her Mommy"
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 4407
Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic
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.
This chapter: Bucky shows up unannounced at your cottage, shattering the peaceful life you thought you'd reclaimed for yourself and your daughter. He's reclaiming what's his, and he isn't planning on accepting a "no."
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Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" shlyukha = "slut" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one"
1. A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat, Just like her 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."
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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, "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."
A whimper escapes you, unbidden. 
June starts squirming in his lap, eager to get to you. When he doesn’t hand her over, she starts to fuss. He coos at her and bounces her in his arms to calm her, kisses the top of her head while keeping his somber, reproachful eyes on you. “You left your door unlocked,” he says. “She was alone.”
She’d been down for her nap when you went downstairs and popped across the street to visit with Hilde, your one friend in the world. It’s so common for mothers to do, in this tiny, Nordic village you’ve settled in. It’s the culture here. It’s supposed to be safe. You swallow thickly, eyes flitting around to try and think of what to do. You think of your gun, so far away. You’d talked yourself out of keeping it tucked behind your bed, so now the only weapon you own is down in the kitchen. But maybe … maybe if you can get him away from June … 
“You should be more careful, Little thief. You never know who might break in and take everything you love.”
“The only thing we had to guard against here was you,” you hiss. “And I’m not fool enough to think a locked door would keep you out.”
“You’re damned right it wouldn’t.” He tosses the storybook aside like trash and stands up with June in his arms. “But you are a fool if you thought there was anywhere in the world you could go where I wouldn’t find you.”
You flinch forward compulsively, unable to think of your own safety over your baby’s. “Please, James,” you beg. “Please. Just give her to me.” 
“Oh no, Dollface,” he purrs, voice deceptively soft. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do, and you aren’t gonna want her in the room when it happens.” His hands tighten threateningly on June’s little body. “Whose baby is this?”
You blanch. “Don’t hurt her.” 
“Aw. You don’t want me to hurt her?” 
“No, please!” The sob that’s been working its way up in your throat finally breaks. It’s killing you not to rush forward and snatch her from his arms. “Please, I'll do anything.”
“Is that so?” He stares at you long and hard. The few seconds of silence are torturous as he holds your daughter away from you. 
James is one of the deadliest people you’ve ever met, and he’s capable of horrendous violence, but he wouldn’t hurt a baby, that much you do know. What you have to worry about most right now isn’t him physically hurting her; it’s him wanting her, whisking her away right alongside you, when he inevitably takes you from this place. There’s nothing you can do to prevent your own fate, but if there’s anything you can do to keep him from getting his hands on June, you’ll do it. Your eyes flit around the nursery frantically, its pale, dream-like decorations taunting you as you try to think of what to do. It feels surreal to have a man like James standing in this room, feels wrong.
Your heart leaps when he suddenly moves, but he’s only turning to walk over to the crib, bending and placing June in it with a surprising amount of care. Something painful lances in your chest at seeing him handle her so gently, but when he turns back around to you, all of that gentleness is gone. “Come on,” he snaps. “To the other bedroom.” 
You hesitate, not wanting to leave your daughter alone, but he stalks forward and grabs your upper arm, herding you out of the nursery and down the hallway. In your bedroom, he pushes you onto the bed. You land in a heap and scramble to prop back up on your hands, trying to swipe the hair out of your face.
“Whose baby is that?” he demands. “Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”
His Voice. God. After almost a year and a half it should be lessened. The pull you feel when you hear it has no right to tug at you the way it does. You’re not even mated, which makes it all the more insulting. It gets in through your ears and spreads throughout your body, like an invasive plant, growing and sinking its roots into you and tug, tug tugging on your will: Whose baby is that.
You fight the awful urge to tell him, as you rapidly, fearfully weigh your options. It’s hard to think when you’re so frightened, so taken aback. Most people might think it wise to admit the truth, but you know this man, this alpha, and you know he’ll never let her go if he knows that she’s his. Anything, you think. You have to do anything you can to keep her from that life, that world. 
Heart in your throat, you insist, “Noone.”
“Noone?” His visage darkens. “Artificial insemination, then? I know they’re progressive and all up here, but don’t take me for a fool, mamochka.”
“It was just some guy! Just a one night stand, I swear!”
He surges in, gets one knee up on the bed and pushes you onto your back when you try to get up, leaning over you and holding you down by your shoulders. “So you did let another man fuck you,” he growls.
You jut your chin out and hiss, “Yes.” (Lying Rule #1: deliver your bullshit with confidence).
“Who? Was he alpha?”
“Why do you care? It was one night in Oslo.” (Rule #2: add in one or two unimportant details.)
“What’s. his. name?” 
A bitter sound escapes you (Rule #3: attach honest emotion to it, if you can). “I don’t know his name. I never did. I was just racking up a roster, just wanted to get laid after getting away from you.”
He bares his teeth at you in a snarl, furious, and shoves you harder against the mattress. You cry out and try to hit him, but he catches your wrists and holds them down to the bed easily, shoving you again, one of his powerful thighs pressed up between yours. “You’re mine,” he growls, getting in your face, lying on top of you. “Noone else’s. Not ever.”
You whimper and nod, shaken and keenly aware of his body on top of yours, his strength. James is a massive hulk of an alpha, capable of overpowering you in any situation, and even through your frantic thoughts, you know you’ll never be able to get away from him in close contact like this. He’s so angry, his scent gone thick and choking. You’re too panicked to plan out what it is you’re going to say next, you just wind up instinctively trying to placate him, blurting out, “What do you want?”
He leers down at you. “I want what’s mine. What’s always been mine.” On your wrists, his fingers tighten cruelly. “You’ve had your fun now, and gotten away with it for too damn long. You’re coming home with me, Little thief.”
You gasp as the pressure on your wrists increases painfully, mind flying to that cold, Siberian fortress and the life that awaits you there. You might be able to get away from him before then, but you might not, and you can’t risk June being trapped there as well. “Okay, okay! I’ll go with you, I will. Wherever you want. Just … Please let me give her to the neighbor. Please.”
He smiles nastily down at you. “Oh, you don’t want her to come along? Another man’s pup?”
Tears press at the backs of your eyes at the thought of leaving your daughter behind, but you shake your head. “Please. Just take her over to the woman across the street. She’ll look after her. Please James, she's my daughter. I won’t fight you if you leave her there. She’s nothing to you. Just let her stay where it’s safe.” 
Something in his expression shifts, but you don’t have time to figure out what the emotion might be, before he shutters again. He leans down and purrs, “Oh, I don’t know, vorishka [little thief]. You stole some very valuable things from me. And since I don’t see any fucking Picassos hanging in this hovel you call a house, I assume they’re in the wind.”
It wasn’t as though you’d simply been able to run away. Escaping had required finances, techniques, firms of dangerous men hired to plant false leads, erase tracks, ferret you away into oblivion, and then move halfway across the globe and buy yourself a new identity. The bribes alone had eaten up most of the money. You shudder in his grip, knowing that the paintings wouldn’t save you, even if you did have them. “They’re gone.” 
“I know they’re gone, Little thief.” He shoves his thigh down against you. “So how are you gonna make it up to me?”
You whimper. “I can’t,” you plead. “James. I don’t have anything.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I can think of a few ways you can start repaying your debt.” He runs one hand down your side, groping your waist as he breathes softly against your ear: “For instance, do you have any idea what she’d be worth on the black market?”
It takes you a split second to figure out what he means, and your heart seizes in terror as soon as you do. You know James is involved in every type of shady, illegal dealing there is in the world, but you’d never even considered the idea of human trafficking. Now that he’s said it, you panic that you’ve made a huge mistake by lying that the baby isn’t his. “James,” you whisper, horrified. “Alpha, please.”
“Oh, it’s Alpha, now, is it?” He chuckles meanly, the sound making your stomach churn. You’re about to say something else, beg in some other, pitiful way, tell him he’s June’s father, but instead you cry out as his hand fists in your hair and yanks your head to the side. His breath hits hot against your skin and he drags his nose up the side of your neck, scenting you. “Mmm,” he hums darkly, pleased. “You spread your legs for another man, but you didn’t let anyone in here.”
You squeak when his teeth scrape over your still-unmarked glands. “No!” you gasp, just as much an answer as it is a plea for nim not to bite you. “I didn’t, I didn’—”
“Shut up,” he snaps, closing his teeth down on the spot. You whine as he pulls your hair and slowly increases the pressure of his bite, threatening to break the skin. Horrified, you feel your body responding with arousal, heat blooming deep in your core. You squeeze your eyes shut, and sure enough few seconds later James is inhaling deeply and chuckling. “Oh, kotenok [kitten]. Still the same as ever, huh?” He shifts, hand slipping down between your legs and cupping you from over the fabric of your dress. “Ripe for your Alpha’s touch, even after all this time. How sweet.” Humiliated rage bubbles up inside of you and you glare up at him. He’s looking down fondly at you, eyes heated and lip drawn into his mouth. He lets it slide back out between his teeth and murmurs, “It’s okay, you know. It’s everything to me, omegechka [little omega], the way you respond. It’s only natural.” You growl angrily, but he just hums and tugs your hair again, other hand molding to your mound and rubbing. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, when you cry out louder. “Don’t want to scare the whelp, do you?” 
You freeze, listening to try and hear June. She’s whining from over in her room,  not understanding why she’s been left alone when she can hear her mommy’s voice just down the hall. “Please,” you whisper, locking eyes with James again. “Please. Let me go to her.”
He grinds the heel of his hand against you. “I told you, Dollface. You don’t want her here for this.”
He kisses you on the mouth, chaste and lingering; so gentle that for a split second it makes you ache for what you once had with him. James always was very good at making love to you, at lavishing you with a softness and a tenderness even in the darkest of times. But now you can only shiver underneath his weight, because you know that’s not what’s about to happen. 
“Seventeen months, moya omegya,”  he rumbles quietly, lips brushing yours with the words. “My bed suddenly cold, not knowing if you were alive or dead. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”
His tone of voice is so intimately familiar that it makes your heart clench, bringing back memories of a life you’ve fought so hard to put behind you. “Please,” you whisper. “Don’t do this.”
He tuts and shakes his head softly, as if he’s actually remorseful. “How this goes depends entirely on you. I want you to know that.” He hasn’t stopped working his hand against you, rubbing his palm against your clit and smiling at how you shudder beneath him and your body betrays you. You watch his nostrils flare as he smells the reaction he’s pulling from you against your will. “Sweet girl,” he coos. “You just can’t help it, can you?” You toss your head and screw your eyes shut, but he’s having none of it. He yanks your hair and hisses at you to open your eyes. “No,” he warns, once he’s got your attention. He moves back, getting up onto his knees and shrugging off his jacket. “You’re going to watch. The whole time.” His hands land on his belt, the buckle clinking as he opens it and undoes his pants. “I want to look right in your eyes while I take back what’s mine.” He shoves his pants down along with his underwear. His cock springs free, already hard and wet at the tip. A part of him that’s been inside you hundreds of times, probably. Something you’ve craved and debased yourself for. 
Seeing it reignites your shame, but it’s the way you feel your cunt pulse and release a fresh wave of slick, that really makes you start resisting again. “Nnh!”
“Ah ah ah, Dollface. That’s not gonna work.”
“Nugh! Lemmo go!”  
You fight, of course you do, but it’s almost worse that way, as it only points out how comically mismatched you are to him. He laughs at you and holds down your thrashing body, barely even grunting from the effort of subduing you. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, chuckling breathily as he forces you down with one hand and strokes himself with the other. “I have to tell you, kotenok. I’ve been looking forward to this.” 
“I hate you!” You manage to get a hand free and you flail, hitting and clawing at him. He inhales sharply as your nails scratch his face. He knocks your hand away with a surprised hiss and, wide eyed, touches the spot where a tiny line of red is welling up on his cheek. The next thing you know, he’s backhanding you, sending spots into your vision and knocking you out of your senses for a few seconds. Your ears ring and you blink, stunned.
His hand appears at your throat, squeezing, pressing up against the arteries. You briefly grapple with him, grabbing his forearm and fighting, but then his thumb notches into place and digs into your glands. Your cries taper off and you go limp with a pathetic, mewling whimper. “Nnnh …”
He leers down at you, adjusting his grip, still jerking his cock as he subdues you with the Hold. “Weak,” he says. “But that’s just how I like you.”
His thumb rubs in circles, sending a rush of liquid gold through your veins. It worsens the situation between your legs, and you can’t hide that any more than you can hide the humiliated tears that prick to your eyes as he shoves your dress up and rips your underwear straight off of you. He coos when he looks down and sees how wet you are. “Oh, omegechka.” He knees your legs further apart and drags his cockhead through your folds. “And this is you hating me?”
You shake with a silent sob, despising him with your whole being, hating yourself for reacting this way. Before James, you’d never met a man who coveted your omega nature so much, hadn’t known what it was to need an alpha that way, to have your body need him. And to think: you used to like it.
He lines himself up and sinks inside of you in one, unyielding push, forcing you to open to him, carving out his space inside of you. You cry out at the force of it, body clamping down hard and the delicate skin at your entrance stinging from the stretch, but he doesn’t stop until he’s fully seated. “Fuck,” he groans, grinding in deep, his pubic bone pressing against your clit, laughing darkly when it makes you squeal. “Oh, you sensitive?” He does it again, and again, doesn’t stop until he gets a high pitched, warbling moan from you. “Theere she is.” He digs his thumb in harder against your glands and stares right in your eyes as he watches the effect it has on you, soaking up the flush in your face and the furious tears welling at the corners of your eyes. “I know, Sweetheart, I know,” he murmurs. “You really can’t help it, can you?” You whimper and he nods along in mock sympathy. “Poor little thing. I can’t imagine what it must be like, to need it that bad.” 
“James,”
He pulls out halfway and shoves back in, hard, rumbling in pleasure when it elicits another yelp from you. His other hand grabs at your waist, fingers digging into the soft give of your body. He hums dirtily. “I have to say, I’m pleasantly surprised. You look good for having just pushed out that pup. You look healthy.” You whine in protest and he fucks in hard again, baring his teeth in a mean smile. “Yeah, momma, you heard me.” He pulls out, thrusts back in. 
“Ss-stop.”
He laughs. “Don’t be like that, krasotka [Pretty(n.)]. I like it. You always were too skinny for my taste.” He runs his hand from your waist up to the top of your dress, yanking it down along with the cup of your bra, and groaning when your swollen breast spills out. You squeal in rage as he curses quietly, eyes going molten and unfocused. “Fuck, Honey, look at you.”
You start thrashing again hard, trying to hit him, but you only get a glancing blow to the side of his head before he refixes his hand on your throat and clamps down in another Hold. He gives you a firm shake. “Settle down. I told you: I like it..”
“Nnn, fuck you!” You spit on him, but he only laughs and wipes it away, leering down at you and continuing gleefully,
“Shouldn’t be skinny like some damn underwear model. Mm mn, naw. Now you’re nice and soft, just like you should be. Somethin’ for Alpha to grab onto. Bitty waist and a fat ass.” He grabs your waist again and pulls you down into the next roll of his hips, changing the angle and hitting that spot inside of you that makes stars burst in your vision.
“Ah!” 
“Mmhm. Right there baby? Yeah, thaat’s the spot. I remember.” He’s panting open-mouthed, breathless as he taunts you, “I remember everything. What you like. How you feel. The sounds you make. Fuck.”  He shoves into you hard and holds there, his licked-red lips curling up wickedly. “Your cunt’s fluttering around me, Sweetheart. Clamping down so fucking hard.” 
“Nnh!”
He laughs, but his smile slackens as his own pleasure continues to build. He angles back and looks down your body, stares at where his cock is disappearing inside of you with lewd, wet sounds. “Shit, momma. And this pussy snapped back real good, didn’t it?” 
You cry out angrily, but it’s what he wants: to see you aroused and humiliated and furious at him. He sets a punishing pace, his hips slamming against you hard on the end of each, brutal thrust; his open belt and the zip of his fly digging into your ass every time he grinds inside. “You haven't been fucking anybody,” he says smugly. “How long’s it really been, mamochka? Hm? How long since another man was in this cunt?”
You moan miserably, his cock driving hard against your walls, too rough but not painful enough to keep it from feeling good. James is big, has an alpha’s cock, and it’s never been a physical possibility for him to be inside of you and not rub against every spot that makes your body light up in pleasure. You shake your head and try to close your eyes, but he pushes his hand up harder underneath your jaw, shaking you. “Uh uh. Look at me.” 
You can’t fight off the command of his Voice, not when he’s already dominating you so completely. Your eyes open against your will, full of tears, and he rumbles in satisfaction. 
“Better.”
Every whimper and mewl you make drives him on, stoking the angry satisfaction that’s burning in his eyes—eyes that you can’t look away from as you cry out again and again, little “Ah, ah, ah's” that interrupt the cadence of your skin slapping together, all of his eager growls and satisfied grunts.
“That’s it, shlyukha,” he pants, hips snapping in hard, again and again. “You—ugh—you let Alpha know how good that feels. Don’t hold it back from me.” His breathing is getting heavier the closer he gets, his composure and even his anger losing some of their hold as he fucks you harder, sinks down on you farther, covers you with his body fully as he ruts into you in pursuit of his climax. “Shit,”  he hisses not far from your ear, face stuffed in your neck. 
You keen high in your throat at his proximity to your bonding glands—a plaintive sound that directly contradicts the panicked ‘no!’ that flashes in your brain. His hand leaves the front of your neck and scoops around behind instead, gripping you at the nape in a Scruff that feels just as toe-curlingly right as the Hold had. 
For a very split second, his breath hitches and his growling trips into a needy whimper. “O-oh …” And that’s when you feel it: his knot starting to catch on the end of each thrust.
“Ah!” You cry out sharply and grab onto him, helpless to keep your body from seeking out more, from clinging to him and clamping down hard as his knot grows and triggers you into orgasm. “Hhgnn …”
He goes feral when he feels your body locking down on him, growling and shoving in and grinding to ensure that he catches inside and ties you together. His hand abandons your neck entirely as he gives in to the instinct to rut, both arms wrapping around your waist, scooping under your back and holding you still for him to fuck furiously against. The tug of his knot inside your cunt makes you sob and come harder, losing sense of yourself as the pleasure cuts through you like a knife. 
“Fuck, fuck, ohhfuck …” The sound of his deep voice, so lost in the desperation and helplessness of his own pleasure, makes your belly flare hot with new arousal even as you’re coming down the other side of it. You gasp and pant, and eventually whimper as the bliss dissipates and you become more aware of him on top of you, grunting and groaning and fucking into your tie as he rides out the long, debilitating climax of an alpha.
You keep your eyes closed and cry, hating that it still feels good as he fucks into you, grinds down on your clit and gives your another orgasm, and another. You wait for him to finish as your brain fills with the high that comes after, that unavoidable pink cloud that you know is going to seal your fate and make you helpless to him for the next thirty minutes, at least. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head in the direction of the pillows. 
As the high starts to take you, you think about how, if you’d just kept your gun holstered behind by the headboard like you’d planned, you could be blowing his brains out right about now.
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A.N.: Soooo ... This is the rape-iest thing I've ever ever written. I hope y'all are okay. Just wanted to drop a note to let you know that this fic WILL lighten up and not be quite so, well, rapey, in the future. Thanks for reading! 💖Sarah
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nicestgirlonline · 1 year ago
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Let Me Hear You Scream
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: SMUT AHEAD! 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI! language, threatening situations, DUB CON, horror elements
Word count: 3.8k
Summary: It’s the 90s so you actually answer the phone when you’re watching movies
a/n: Happy Halloween yall!!!! Still working on other projects but really wanted to get something out for Halloween! This was for @witchywithwhiskey’s Horror Movie Hoe-a-thon! the prompts I picked were Scream and “I’m your boyfriend now” Hope you all enjoy!!!! Thanks for reading, I’d love your feedback! Reblogs and comments are love <3
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1993. A sleepy suburban town, where nothing exciting ever happens. Friday night.
Your friends were all going out to Wanda’s party, but you were stuck housesitting for your aunt. Your mom had promised you would house sit weeks ago, so you couldn’t get off the hook. It was a big empty house, more rooms than your aunt could ever need. Most were filled up with storage and dust bunnies.
You tried to make the best of the boring night-in. You rented some Meg Ryan movies with plans to completely veg out. You ordered an extra large pizza with all of your favorite toppings and raided your aunts pantry for snacks.
You glanced down at your shirt and saw red. Pizza sauce! Blooming red circle right in the center of your cream sweater. You let out a huff of frustration. Some Friday night.
You changed into comfy nightwear--a baby blue cotton gown that brushed the very top of your knees, along with a pair of fluffy bunny slippers for good measure. You settled back down in front of the TV.
RING. RING. RING.
You picked up the phone, squeezing it between your ear and shoulder as you carried your snacks over to the kitchen.
“Hello,” you used your best fake customer service voice. Your aunt had asked you to take down any messages. She must have a new boyfriend she was hoping would call. You wait for a response but all you can hear is low breaths through the receiver. “Hello?” You try again
“Is this Sidney?” The voice was weirdly distorted and hard to place. It was deep, clearly a man’s voice.
“Sorry, wrong number dude.” You hung up before he could let another word out. You set the phone down by the cradle and go back to making your snacks. You got out the big popcorn bowl.
The phone rang out again. “Hello?” You answered. You really hadn’t expected to be fielding this many phone calls.
“Hey. Did I call you earlier?” It was the same strange voice. You blew some air through your lips, how annoying.
“Sidney’s not here. Have a good night--”
“Aw man. She must have given me a fake number. I don’t mean to bother you over and over tonight.” He sighed, sounding very apologetic.
“No worries. Have a good night.”
“Wait, wait. I like the sound of your voice.”
You paused. Was it totally weird to just chat with this guy? Yeah. But what harm could it be? You felt a bit of a flutter in your stomach. You never had talked to a stranger over the phone like this. It felt clandestine! You decided to go with it.
“Better than Sidney’s?” You asked, trying to make your voice sound as flirty as possible. You heard him hum approval.
“Much better than…let’s not talk about her. What are you doing tonight?” There was something very familiar about his voice. There was a crackle and static that made it so you couldn’t quite make it out. It must be a shitty connection.
“I was having a movie night. I’m making some snacks right now.” You started to curl the phone cord around your finger.
“What are you watching, Pumpkin? Something scary?”
“No way. I hate scary movies.”
“Especially not when you’re alone right?”
“Uh - um - I’m not alone. Actually.” You lied. How did he know you were alone? Was he just guessing?
“Scary movies are always scarier when you’re all alone, in a big empty house, that’s in the middle of nowhere,” he continued.
A shiver went down your spine. That was a bit too accurate. But there's no way he could possibly know where you were. It was a phone call!
“I just don’t like them. It's either some creepy slasher stabbing some big boobed blonde through her white t-shirt or a ghost that's a metaphor for trauma. No thank you,” you sighed.
“I think you’re being a little hard on them. Maybe if you watched them with a guy to cling to you’d like them more. Do you have a boyfriend?”
There it was. Obviously the alone comment was him trying to set the mood.
“Why do you want to know? Already over Sidney?” You teased him.
“Answer the question.” He was very serious. You didn’t like the tone he had.
“Yes, I do. Are you going to hang up?” You lied again, trying to call his bluff.
“You don’t have a boyfriend. What are you wearing? Something cute and virginal? What about your underwear?” You pulled the phone away from your ear in shock. You were officially too skeeved out. This wasn’t some poor guy who got slipped a fake number. He was a weirdo!
“Ok perv, I’m over this. Bye.”
“I wouldn’t hang up Y/N.” His voice was suddenly hostile. He spat each syllable out filled with hatred. Your blood ran cold. Your heart started to race. How would he possibly know your name?
“Is this a prank? Not very funny. Is this you Tony?” Your voice shook with fear.
“Who’s Tony? That your boyfriend?” He snarled.
“This is a really bad joke. Did someone put you up to this? Scott? Knock it off now!”
“Jesus you’ve got a lot of men in your life. Are you trying to make me jealous or something? I don’t like sharing.”
“I’m serious, this is a bad joke, so just give it up already.” You cried out, you looked around, making sure you were still totally alone.
“I don’t give up so easily. Do you, Pumpkin? Do you give it up to any guy who looks in your direction? I bet you do, you slut. That's why you're talking to a guy you don’t know while you’re all alone.”
“I’m hanging up, I already told you I’m not alone. My boyfriend is here! He’s big and he plays football. S-so don’t call back ok?” You tried to sound as forceful as possible but your lips wobbled and you tripped over your words.
“Pumpkin, you’re lying to me. You’re all alone in that big house in the middle of nowhere, wearing that skanky nightgown. I can see your nipples poking through this whole time. You’re so turned on by a psycho on the phone, huh?”
You let out a scream. You slammed the phone down, hanging it up. You started to spin a circle looking at all the windows, trying to see if you could see somebody watching you. You ran to the front door to make sure they were locked. You went window by window locking them and shutting the curtains. You took a chair from the kitchen and dragged it in front of the door, jamming it beneath the door knob.
RING RING RING RING
You looked around, trying to remember where all of the doors were in the house. You spun around running to the kitchen entrance. You double checked the lock and put the chain on the door. You slid down the door with your back pressing against it trying to catch your breath.
This wasn’t real. This had to be some fucked up prank. The guys were all too hyped up for Halloween and wanted to get a scare out of you. The ringing stopped and you heard the voicemail click, your aunt's outgoing message began to play.
“You screening your calls, skank? You’re gonna die, you little whore! I’m gonna see what your insides look like --” You picked up the phone just to end the message and slammed it back down. As you scampered away it fell down, swinging from the cord. You take off up the stairs, stumbling up the stairs.
You dash into the guest room you had been staying in. You quickly locked the door. Your hands were shaking still. How was this happening?
The window started to jiggle. You could hear the groaning old wood start to slide. With nothing better to arm yourself with you grabbed a pillow and started to wildly smack the intruder with all you could.
“Whoa whoa whoa, it’s me -- it’s me!” Bucky Barnes, your classmate, was gripping the window sill, flabbergasted from the pillow. You hadn’t even had time to register who it was before you attacked.
“Bucky? What the fuck are you doing here?” You demanded. This proved to you it had to be some kind of a prank. Why else would Bucky Barnes, the moody guy from your film class be climbing up to your room.
“Well, when you said you were busy tonight I thought I could just surprise you? Like a grand romantic gesture or something? Can you um, let me in? It's actually kind of cold.” He was shivering out there. He looked so earnest it tugged on your heart just a bit.
You motioned for him to come in. He heaved his body up, awkwardly crawling through the tight window then falling to the ground. He sprang back up quickly, smiling at you.
“Is this a prank? Are you in on this with the other guys or something?” You crossed your arms.
“Um, other guys? Are there other guys here? I thought I was being original.” He peered around you as if to look for them. You rolled your eyes.
“The phone calls Bucky. I’m not joking around.”
“What phone calls? I’ve been driving all night to get here from campus, then shimmying up some ivy. Haven’t exactly had any time to stop at a payphone. You know what. This was a bad idea, I can see that, I’ll just leave.” He sheepishly put his hands in his pockets as he crouched down to leave the way he came.
“No, no wait!” You grabbed him, keeping him from going outside. If it wasn’t Bucky then there was still a psycho out there! “I don’t know what's going on, but this weird guy kept calling me, and he was watching me! Like I think he was outside the house or something.”
“Calm down, calm down. I was just outside. There's nobody out there. It was probably just a prank call.”
He started to rub your back with slow soothing circles. It was intimate in a way you weren’t used to from Bucky. He was the quiet one, never really hung out unless Steve was around. His palm pressed into your lower back, holding you closer to him. His other hand cupped the back of your head, guiding you into the crook of his neck.
“You’re getting so worked up. Maybe you should just lie down.” He shushed you as you tried desperately to explain it wasn’t a prank call. He guided the two of you down to the bed. He laid down next to you.
“Bucky…why are you here?”
“I wanted to see you, I thought you knew…isn’t it obvious how I feel about you?”
Your head was spinning. Bucky liked you? He barely even talked to you! When he casually asked if you were going to Wanda’s party you assumed it was just small talk. He had grunted and left the second you told him you were busy.
“I think I should call the cops about this--”
“I’m here aren’t I? I’ll keep you safe.” His lips connected with yours silencing you from responding. His kiss was eager, but still so gentle. He slowly moved his lips against yours, basking in the taste of you. He took his time and slowly you could feel his tongue ghosts against your bottom lip, looking for entrance.
Maybe it was the adrenaline, the shock, or maybe Bucky was just an extremely good kisser, but you quickly fell under the spell of the kiss. You let yourself get lost kissing him, trying to forget the phone call prankster that had been terrorizing you.
Fear was still racking through your body, but Bucky felt safe. You tangled your hands in his hair bringing him closer. His hand slowly traced up and down your leg. Both his hands grasped your legs, essentially pinning you down. You felt a cool air waft over your thighs as his fingers gently crept beneath your nightgown.
He cupped you over your underwear, grabbing the elastic and letting it snap back against your skin. You finally broke free of the kiss to gasp. He sat back on his ankles, his hand still toying with your panties.
“Bucky, I--”
“Shhh it's ok. I’m here to save the day. No one's gonna hurt you while I’m around.” He pushed aside your panties and started to slowly circle your clit. You whined as he circles you again and again, the pleasure rushing through you and pushing every thought of terror out of your brain.
He pressed his thumb against your clit and dipped his fingers inside of you. He curled his fingers, dragging more moans out of you. As he fucked you with his fingers, you tilted your hips up for more delicious friction.
“That's it my brave girl, Bucky’s here for you,” he murmured above you. He spoke with such hard conviction. His eyes were intensely boring into yours, nearly unblinking. He was no longer softly in the throws of passion. He was a man on a mission.
He kept pumping his fingers, he brought his other hand up from your leg to palm himself through his jeans. He groaned as he adjusted himself and went back to work on you. His other hand circling around your inner thigh, moving your leg up to his shoulder.
“Bucky, please, please,” you babbled as the pleasure began to mount and mount. It was nearly unbearable as you chased your release, grinding your hips up and down on his hand, riding his fingers towards that sweet relief.
“Yes, you’re doing so well, you’re perfect.” He brought his lips to your neck and began to suck at your sensitive spot. You let out a cry of pleasure as your climax flowed over you. You clamped your legs together, biting down on your lip as another cry came out.
You took a moment to catch your breath, Bucky was still nibbling on your neck. You grabbed his face and brought his lips back to yours. He eagerly responded, his lips enveloping yours.
You grabbed the underwear that you were still wearing and rolled it down your body to fling them off. You sat up and grabbed at Bucky until you found his belt. You fumbled, trying to unbuckle it. Bucky's hands quickly found yours and he brought them together, kissing both your palms. He unbuckled the belt on his own. Removing it without ceremony or flourish. He then yanked his jeans and underwear down.
“Are you sure about this?” He asked.
“I want you so badly, Bucky,” you moaned.
He let out a strangled gasp that turned to laughter. You tilted your head at the reaction. He didn’t sound exactly happy, it was more sinister.
“I just have waited so long to hear you say that to me. I’m so happy right now,” he nearly giggled. He giddily took off his jacket, tossing it to the ground.
“Keep me distracted Bucky, ok?” You asked as you hitch your nightgown up to your waist.
“Oh yes, anything for you, Pumpkin.” He had a devilish smirk on his face as he pressed his lips to your navel, slowly kissing his way up. He grabbed your nightgown and finished taking it off. Tossed it to the side with the pile of his clothes.
He made his way up your abdomen before groping your chest with a satisfied hiss. He squeezed you roughly, making you squeak. He latched his lips onto your breast. You let out a gasp as he lightly bit down. He tended thoroughly to each breast, his wicked tongue teasing at your pebbled nipples until you were a moaning puddle.
He grasped his cock, stroking it a few times before guiding it to your folds. He brushed the head of his cock up and down your cunt, teasing it out. He pressed his forehead against yours.
“You really mean it, right? You want me?” he asked desperately.
“Yes --” Before another word could escape your lips, he entered you. His whole body shivered. He thrust the tip of his head in, easing in and out until he was fully sheathed inside of you. You moaned as the stretch burned in pleasure and pain.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he moaned, the pace he had set was blistering. You gripped his shoulders to keep yourself anchored as he hammered into you. “You’re so tight, so tight fuuuck me.”
He thrust over and over, using the heel of his hand to keep working at your clit. You scratched your hands down his back as his pumps kept hitting the perfect spot. It was torturous pleasure as he kept working up and down your clit, not giving you a moment of respite.
You came again, your body seizing up as you cried out and then falling limp, boneless back down to the bed. Bucky grabbed your hips, pulling your lower body off the bed as he raced for his own release. The slapping sounds of your bodies filled the room along with his deep, gutural breaths.
“Yes, yes, you’re mine, you’re mine, I finally have you, finally, finally…” he babbled as he slowed his pace as he fucked out his climax.
XXX
You curled next to Bucky in the big fluffy guest bed. Both of you were happily satisfied. All thoughts of strangers on the phone were gone from your head. Now it was filled with what just happened.
Hooking up with Bucky? You’d never considered it before. You weren’t sure why, he was so very cute, you thought as you gazed at his face. His eyes were dreamily staring back at you, that big smile had not left his face yet.
“So if you want to like, hang out, I have snacks and movies. We can go curl up on the couch and just completely let our brains rot.” You traced tiny circles on his chest, feeling pretty confident he’d want to stick around.
“I’d be down for a little romcom night, as long as you’re there.” He affectionately tapped your nose.
“Good because that's all I’ve got!”
The two of you got back into a semblance of your outfits, you pulled your nightgown back on, and Bucky pulled on his boxers and the white undershirt he was wearing. You snagged his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. He hummed his approval and kissed you on the cheek.
You grabbed him by the hand and pulled him along down the stairs.
“You can go grab the popcorn, I’ll put the tapes in.” You directed Bucky towards the kitchen as you made your way towards the living room.
You pass the chairs jammed in front of the doors, and you remember your panic.
You shuddered--what a mean prank to pull. What kind of psycho talks to people like that?
You slipped your arms into Bucky's jacket to wrap yourself in it. It smelled sharp and sweet from his body wash and cologne blending together. You stuck your hands in the pockets, only to feel something heavy and tube shaped. You pulled it out, curious, turning it over in your hands a few times to investigate.
It was a long cylindrical looking microphone. You assumed it was some sort of film equipment, but why would Bucky bring that along?
“Hello?” You spoke into the mic. But instead of your own voice, the same distorted, crackling voice from the phone came out.
You dropped it. It was like a hot iron in your hand.
You realized Bucky must have heard you too. Your head snapped towards the kitchen. He was walking slowly towards you, a huge chef’s knife from the kitchen was now in his hands.
“Bucky what the hell is this?” You asked, slowly backing away from him.
“I…can explain.” His grip on the knife tightened and he raised his hands in the air as if in surender, never slowing his pace towards you.
“No, I think you need to leave.” You covered your body with your arms, trying not to trip over the furniture.
“No, no, no you’re misunderstanding --” He was getting closer to you, he reached his arms out to try and grab you.
“Leave me alone!” You screamed out as you broke into a run. You made a mad dash to the front door. Bucky was close behind you.
“I’m not going to hurt you!” He cried out as you fumbled with all the locks. Your hands were shaking, you tried to remove the chain from the door but it wasn’t moving fast enough.
Bucky's arm wrapped around your waist and yanked your body into his. His hard bulge poked at your ass.
“No!!” you cried out as you started to thrash around. You quickly stilled as the sharp point of the knife began to dig into your throat.
“Let’s calm down ok. I think you’re getting too worked up again.”
“B-Bucky, just say that it’s a prank. This was all a big prank. I won’t tell anyone. Just put the knife down please.” You try desperately to reason with him. He lets out an unamused grunt.
He began to drag you away from the door. You strained your neck as far as you could to keep the pressure from the knife as minimal as possible.
“You weren’t supposed to find out. Now it’s all ruined. Fuck. Fuuuck!” He growled. Clearly enraged he started to grapple you down to the floor.
“Why are you doing this to me?” You whimpered, tears oozing from the corners of your eyes. Rolling down your cheeks in huge streaks.
“You don’t get it. You never noticed me. All I wanted was for you to notice me. I just had to grease the wheels a little bit, put on a show to make you see…that I’m the guy for you.” He looked crazed. He moved the knife from your neck to your cheek. He caressed it against your cheeks like a lover's hand.
“Bucky please…put down the knife.”
“You’re misunderstanding me, you’re trying to run away! That’s why I have the knife because you need to listen to me. You always listen to the guy with the biggest tool in the room huh? You thought I was Tony. Does he call you up at night a lot or something? Huh?!”
You were just whimpering as he ranted above you. The blunt side of the knife was pressed against your cheek, the shiny metal reflecting into your eyes.
“Well you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” The look in Bucky’s eyes was primal, like he was no longer a man. The charming smile from before was now warped and too large, his lips curling to show his teeth and gums.
“You’re scaring me. Please don’t hurt me!”
“Hurt you? I would never.” He said, not moving the knife from your face. “I’m your boyfriend now. And I’m not going to let anything happen to you again.”
He brought the knife down from your cheek slowly, the sharp tip dragging down your neck. He began to slice the top button off your nightgown.
“Now, you made such beautiful noises for me before. Let me hear you scream, Pumpkin.”
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anonymityisfunwriter · 7 months ago
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it will come back.
"i warn you, baby, each night, as sure as you're born, you'll hear me howling at your door..." - hozier, it will come back
pairing: yandere!bucky barnes x reader c.w.: dark!bucky (he definitely does some questionable things, but nothing graphic)
a.n. - it's official, i've become addicted to lower case fics. they're just so much fun. they've got a vibe, you know? anyway, this is my first attempt at a darker bucky, so i hope you enjoy!
Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
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this is your fault. it’s all your fault.
you know better, or at least, you should have known better.
what else could you expect from a man like him? a man robbed of his humanity for so long. a man so close to ferality. that's who he is in all matters of you, a man more beast than human, no better than an animal when it came to you.
that’s how you should’ve treated him. as a beast. prowling back and forth in their confinement. poised to devour any unlucky soul that got too close. so long as he was caged, you were safe.
you didn’t though. you didn’t treat him like the beast he became the moment he saw you.
maybe in another life, he could've loved you in a normal, sane way. in another life, he could give you the sweetness you deserved. in a life where he wasn't so twisted and tormented, he would have done just that. the flowers. the chocolates. the romance.
but this is love, he tells himself.
this raw, deranged, twisted, obsession.
this is his love.
he loves you.
he swears he does.
in this life, this is the only way he can show you just how much he loves you. just how far he's wiling to go to love you.
something happened to him the moment he set his sights on you. perhaps something broke. perhaps something mended. but maybe this was always who he'd been. all he knows is that heaven is not fit to house the love he has for you.
it didn't matter. the moment he set his sights upon you, you were doomed.
he wanted to scream, to bellow a warning to stay as far away from him as possible.
he stayed silent during that first meeting. his jaw tense, spine straight as an arrow, fists clenched so tight he was sure there would be indents in the metal of his vibranium palm.
"it was nice to meet you, sergeant barnes." you made a point to place yourself in his line of sight, forcing him to look at you in those bright, wide eyes. "i look forward to working with you."
that was your first mistake. he had the strength to stay away. to resist the feeling creeping up his spine. but you just kept rattling his cage. calling out to him with your siren song.
"bucky," you rest your hand on his shoulder. you're trying to soothe him. you don't realize it's a kindness neither you nor him could afford. "it's alright."
he stiffens, that's the first time you've ever touched him. it's the first time he's ever heard his name fall from your lips. not sergeant, not sir, but his name.
his chest heaves, rising and falling as he tries to control himself. you think it's just the adrenaline of the mission. you don't have any idea how overwhelmed he is by your presence.
it's your own kindness that was your undoing, that was his unraveling. years of discipline, years of training, years of strength gone with a touch.
if he didn't love you so much, he'd hate you.
from that moment on, it all spiraled. he spiraled.
he wasn't a patient man, not by any stretch of the imagination. but for you, he'd wait. for you, he'd bide his time.
first, he watches. he watches and look for ways to insert himself into your life. it was almost too easy. for a shield agent, you were careless. doors unlocked. blissfully unaware of your surroundings on long, morning runs. you barely realized how he'd slithered his way onto your missions.
it helped you were vying for his approval, for his adoration. you didn't know that you had it from the moment he saw you. he started slow. inserting himself into your daily routine. a simple good morning. a good night. passing by you in the corridor, always offering a quick grin. he listened to you. to your ideas. your wants. your little anecdotes.
soon, you were close enough to invite him into your apartment. if only you knew that he'd seen it before.
"bucky, we're friends, right?"
he gritted his teeth. friends. no. you weren't friends. you were the love of his life. you were everything he had ever wanted, everything he would ever want. you were the center of his universe. he couldn't tell you that. not yet. "yeah. why do you ask?"
"i just wanted your opinion on this guy."
"a guy?" his voice is so clipped, so gruff, he's shocked you can't hear his teeth grinding together. his fists clench. can't you feel the rage rolling off of him?
"yeah, this agent," you sigh. "he keeps asking me out. i keep trying to let him down easy, but he's not taking the hint."
"oh."
your eyebrows furrow. he almost smiles to himself. you're so aware of him, of what he does or doesn't do. you're worried you upset him. you're worried you shouldn't have told him. he likes that you're this concerned about what he thinks. "should i - i'm sorry i shouldn't have said that to you."
he places his hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. "no, i'm glad you told me."
it was too easy for him to swipe your phone when you weren't looking. too easy for him to find out which agent dared to try to take you from him.
and it was even easier to get the agent paired with bucky on a field mission. just the two of them. overseas in an unfamiliar country. there were just so many things that could go wrong.
he was respected in the avenger's compound. and in this moment, he's glad he put in the work to earn that respect. he didn't think they'd respect him so much if they knew how easy it was for him to sabotage that agent. he couldn't kill the guy, but if a gun shot to the leg wasn't enough of a warning, there were other ways to get him off your back.
all of this was your fault. you opened the cage, whether you knew it or not. you pushed him to this. you showed him the warmth of your doorways.
you could've left him alone. left him to the land. left him to the cold that he knows from the depth of his bones. you should never have let him taste your warmth. you shouldn't have uttered a single word to him, not when he's sat in silence for so long, not when the sound of your honey sweet voice in enough to feed his hungry soul.
you can't show warmth to someone stone cold.
you can't feed someone starved for decades.
you can't show mercy to someone used to the harsh, unyielding world.
you should never have let him in unless you planned on keeping him.
or he'll come back.
"bucky," you pant, running to bucky's room after hearing about his disastrous mission. "i heard - i heard things went wrong on that mission. i thought you were -"
"i'm okay. don't worry." he tries to bite back the smile at the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you were worried about him.
your words come out in short bursts. "i just - the guy - he's the one i told you about - i heard he was shot - and - and that you were on the mission with him-"
"that was the guy who wouldn't leave you alone?" there's an intentional lilt to his voice. of course he knew. but he didn't want to give away just how much he knew. you weren't ready for that. "he's okay, if that's what you're worried about."
"i was worried about you." your eyes lift to his, shining with tears, with admiration. you were so close to putting the final nail in your coffin. "i was so worried about you."
he should tell you to run. the lion should never live with the lamb. if only you'd left him to the land.
"i'm okay. i promise."
run, he silently warns you.
run.
run.
"i just- " your frantic eyes find his again. you don't say another word. you lunge forward, planting your warm hand on the side of his face. your lips meet his in a frenzy.
too late.
it was far, far too late. it was too easy for him to become addicted to your presence. how easy you are for him to need. how easy you are for him to crave.
he'll always come back for more. he'll never be satisfied. he lived deprived for so long.
you should've know the reason they locked him away and threw away the key. he's a greedy beast.
and he's decided, he can't live with a taste. not anymore.
"i just want to talk to you," the agent pleads with you. he follows you down the hallway, still limping on his leg after that gun shot. "just hear me out."
"look," you sigh, stopping for a moment out of pity. "i'm sorry you got hurt, but i've already told you, i'm not interested."
"you're not interested in me, but you're interested in the maniac that had me shot?"
your eyes widen at the accusation. "you're lying. and don't - don't talk about bucky like that."
"i just thought you should know what kind of man you're falling into bed with."
"you're just jealous." you're about to turn on your heels when he grips your bicep forcing you back around. he squeezes tightly, forcing you to stay in place. you look down at the white knuckled grip, "you're hurting me."
"he told me that i should be more careful next time. that next time it wouldn't be in the leg. you should ask him about it."
you wrench your arm from his hold. "stay away the hell from me."
you felt guilty about your reaction. even guiltier when he turned up dead just days later. the details of that assignment were so fuzzy. even an entire investigation turned up nothing.
"i can't believe he's gone," you softly cry into bucky's shoulder. "we were friends for so long, you know?"
"i'm so sorry, that can't be easy for you," bucky coos at you.
"i don't what happened. he was acting so strange the last few months and then we got into that fight. i said terrible things to him."
"you got into a fight?"
"he said some things. about you. about us."
"about me?"
"yeah." you nod, tears still stinging your eyes, but offering no other details of that argument. you didn't want to upset bucky with those strange accusations. "these last few months, he was like a different person. he wasn't the friend i knew. i'm sorry, i know i'm rambling at you. i just - i don't know how to feel."
"you don't have to be sorry," bucky promises, he strokes your back up and down, following the curve of your spine. "i understand."
"thank you." you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. "you're being so sweet to me."
"i would do anything for you."
you're not sure what it is. the inflection of his voice. the way the words fall from his lips without pause. or the intensity with which they ring in your ears. you freeze, peeling yourself out of his embrace. your heart hammers against your chest, the blood pumping faster and faster.
you look up and, for the first time, you get a glimpse of it. those blue eyes are almost unrecognizable. that vibrant blue is gone, replaced by something much darker. almost lupine. feral.
it was the first time you ever flinched away from him. you stumbled back, afraid of him.
if you didn't know better then, you certainly did now.
but it's too late for you. he's supposed to unlearn the warmth of your skin, the taste of your lips? he's supposed to let you go? just like that?
no. not a chance in hell.
he doesn't know why you can't see it. can't you see that blood that stained his hand was for you? that agent will never lay another hand on you. you'll never wince under his grip again. he'll never plant seeds of doubt in your head ever again. you're safe. here. in his arms.
you sent him away that night. but he doesn't care. it doesn't matter. he'll always find his way back to you.
he'll always come back.
can’t you hear him just outside your door?
Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
a.n. this is my first attempt at writing a yandere fic, so let me know what you think! reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a@weallhaveadestiny@mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064@michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73@withyoutilltheendoftheline@the-photo-hoe @rae-nna@sarachabeans1
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screechingsandwichtriumph · 5 months ago
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Platonic yandere avengers x reader x romantic yandere peter parker
Idek how to begin this so beware unlucky readers
Summary: you are an idol ,you are an avenger. How can they not be slightly a little bit protective of you
Warnings: yandere themes , stalking, obsession, fighting, blood , I think this is it
Also this will include(I'm sorry I didn't exactly do the like main six or whatever) Tony , Steve , Bucky , Clint , Natasha , Wanda , Peter
This is longer than I expected and I kinda don't like it but here it is in its full glory<3
When you joined the team , they blamed their protectiveness over you to your personality
I mean you are so cute and look so innocent , how can they not want to protect you ?
Tony had totally not hacked into every single account that you own / have owned in your life and he absolutely hasn't researcher your dad's Facebook to find childhood pictures of you. And he surely didn't print those out and handed then around in the team. Also expect to be spoilt rotten. Complained once about a stain on your favorite jacket? Have three more of the exact same just in case
Steve claimed to need specifically your help to understand how to operate anything mechanical ad expect to have a lot of movie marathons. He will read you before you sleep even though you are not a child anymore because ' he just liked when he is reading out loud'
Bucky would be the type of person to dig in deep in your life. He wouldn't stalk you specifically. That is tasked to someone else. No . He would stalk Al your friends and all your exes and highschool teachers.ad if he had to he would accidentally make some of them he consider bad influences disappear
Clint along with Natasha are your stalkers
Clint will always be hidden close by in case you need help with something (like , idk someone dead?) and my man could literally enter your home , casually look around a bit , stare at your decorations , and be out without you even realizing he was never there
Natasha on the other hand isn't so subtle. You could easily spot her on the other end of the street wearing sunglasses and staring at you intensely. Once you were in a bookstore admiring some books and stationary that you did not buy and the next day they were at your door with a little note that said ' saw them and they reminded me of you - Natasha ' as if you hadn't seen her looking at you. It isn't even that she is stupid . She just doesn't care
Wanda practically lived at your head at this point knowing things about you , you were barely aware of. Like , what do you mean you can't remember that one time you went snowboarding and fell? What do you mean how she knows that story and that you never told her? Of course you did silly!
Peter now was clearly in live with you and the first to meet you and get obsessed over you. When after some time he went to Tony and told him about his feelings , Tony supported his feelings to the max since this could be beneficial for all of them. Peter would never leave , they trusted him and he could keep you close.
Now you seem like a soft baby that needs protection from everyone ands that's mainly due to the way you present yourself and act. You have the most bubbly soft personality and everyone loves that
Being an idol , and an avenger was a dream come true for you , so when you had a big show and gave to them tickets to come see you they of course came( Tony almost bought all tha tickets so it could be only you but Steve stopped him)
Heating a music so fitting to your aesthetic it was like they fell in love (platonically and romantically for Peter) all over again. You are just so sweet and cute
Then a day came where an attack happened in new York and all of you jumped to action. They had no time to stop you from going to battle or even think about doing it really. The only think they could do was act.
Now , your powers were so incredibly powerful that they never thought you would have to fight face to face with someone. But they were terrible wrong
Once the fight was over they all spotted you on the corner of a building with bloody fists and a small trail of blood staining your pretty pink costume. A fan of yours was there asking you to take a picture . You kindly smiled at the camera revealing a set of bloody teeth.
Your fan seemed super excited at that and almost yelled out in joy. You bid her goodbye and went towards the group of your shocked friends
They all just stared at you in an unusually bloody shape , that somehow seemed fitting (?)
Later on they were shown a video of you with a bunch of people , that you were brutally fighting with . They were all left to shreds when you left your head held high.( Peter was even more into you after that)
Asks are always open<3
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fxckn-sxck-fr · 14 days ago
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id lovee to hear ur rankings of the comic book men from appearing to be the most normal to something is obviously wrong w them (if that makes sense... like,,,, who is and isnt an obv red flag)
ur writing keeps me fed :3
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐒…
!!! GN reader, manipulation, gaslighting, mentions of stalker-ish picture-taking, mentions of schizophrenia and anxiety, poor treatment of mental illness, mentions of violent behaviors, murderous Bucky Barnes, Tim Drake (he’s just a problem), mentions of suicidal tendencies, can be translated as platonic or romantic.
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EAAAAATT!!!!! EEEEAAAAATTTT!!!!!!!!! EAT MY WRITING!!!! CONSUME IT!!!!!!!!!!!
Remember, this is from least to most, meaning we’ll talk about the seemingly well-adjusted folks first and gradually move up to the, “okay, what the fuck is wrong with him” peeps.
Wally West: The way he’s playing everyone like a fiddle is downright disrespectful. He’s filled to the brim with green flags, easily appearing as one of the safest guys on the planet. Even when you start to suspect something, you have to constantly second guess yourself, because come on… it’s Wally. What the fuck can he do wrong? Don’t even bother voicing any of your concerns. No one — and I mean no one — will believe you. Having problems with Wally West? The embodiment of a warm summer evening? Damn, that sounds like a you problem. Poor Wally, having to deal with a crazy weirdo.
Dick Grayson: He’s got an amazing personality and pretty privilege working for him. At this rate, the masses manipulate themselves. Only those who are extremely perceptive will pick up on the cold glint in his eyes, and even then, the mystique only adds to his charm. By the time you realize he’s been hiding a darker side, it’s too late. Everyone’s too captivated by how endearing Dick is to hear you out. Even those who know him personally — who know about his struggles and rough patches — think you’re full of shit. Dick’s an emotionally mature man, so why don’t you just talk it out with him?
Steve Rogers: This is a bit unfair, considering the leverage he’s granted as Captain America, but hey… work what you got. While it may seem obvious to you that he’s way too overbearing and protective, good luck trying to get other people on your side. Everyone else thinks it’s a part of his 40s charm. Social norms were just different back then; why can’t you be more appreciative of his old-fashioned care? Besides, you’re probably overreacting. Is it really that bad? Steve is the leader of the Avengers, so maybe you’re just taking his authoritative demeanor the wrong way.
Clark Kent: I’m gonna be so for real, any man from a fuckass state like Kansas is going to come with some personality quirks. People will probably give him the benefit of the doubt by default. Just a farm boy trying to navigate the big city and can’t even hurt a fly. Sure, he can be odd at times, but nothing makes him an inherently bad guy. This is the same man that helps old people cross the street, for god’s sake! He most definitely means well, it’s just a matter of setting boundaries with him. What’s the worst he can do?
Remy LeBeau: Despite what differing opinions may say about The Gambit, Remy seems like he’s got his head on his shoulders. His “red flags” are more on the blurry side. Do you count excessive flirting as a red flag? What about hiding behind charisma and a fake ego instead of going to therapy? Some people may say yes, others no. But in terms of glaring red flags, Remy’s relatively clean. We’ve all got our issues, no? Being a thief doesn’t make you a psycho. That being said, due to Remy’s shifty past, people may be more inclined to listen should you ever express that something’s wrong.
Peter Parker: Honestly… he’s a bit of a weirdo. Nothing obvious at first, but the longer you know him, the more behaviors you may pick up on that make you go, “oh… well… that’s weird”. Take his Polaroid obsession, for example. He’s got at least one photo in every jacket pocket, dozens in his wallet, and a fuck ton in his desk. Poor guy accidentally spilled them all over the ground once, which naturally sparked rumors. But Peter’s a sweetheart. Clingy, but still a sweetheart. Maybe he’s just a little messed up due to everything he’s lost in his life.
Bruce Wayne: Okay. Red flags in the playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne? Absolutely unheard of. He’s an absolute angel. According to all of the stan accounts out there, he could do nothing wrong. But red flags in the real Bruce Wayne? Where do we even begin. Distrusting as fuck, paranoid, argumentative, the occasional fit of violence, a known manipulator and liar… want me to keep going, because I can. It’s very hard to rank Bruce due to the ginormous contrast between general public opinion and those who actually know him, so he goes smack in the middle. Billionaire Bruce Wayne would never be a horrible person to you, but the real Bruce Wayne 100% would.
Jaime Reyes: Because of how mental illness is stigmatized, Jaime’s unfortunately labeled to be dangerous. But it’s not really his fault. That damn scarab has him muttering to himself like a crackhead, and naturally assumptions will be made. When actually given a chance, people will learn that Jaime’s a nice kid. He just probably struggles with schizophrenia or really bad anxiety. Yes, his paranoia can get bad, but again; mental illness. He’s never proven himself to a threat, despite what others may think. He just needs help (but there’s no way to combat the manipulation of Khaji Da. Jaime lost that battle the moment he became Blue Beetle).
Hal Jordan: Oh, yeah. He’s got red flags alright. But they’re mostly normal ones, like his ego and horrendous stubborn streak. Lots of guys out there are like that, and are they considered freaks? No. Well, not all of them. However, it is a bit concerning that he’s willing to throw hands at the drop of a hat. Bro’s one major freak out away from catching assault charges like they’re Pokémon. But if it’s any consolation, it should be noted that he hasn’t gotten into major legal trouble. On Earth. Yet. Some call him rough around the edges, others call him a severely troubled individual. Either way, he definitely needs to seek professional help.
Scott Summers: MAJOR red flags. He’s an overbearing control freak that really needs to work on his… well… his everything. Emotional intelligence, temper, daddy issues… yeah, no. He’s an amazing leader, but probably someone you should steer clear from otherwise. Most wouldn’t be surprised if you two were having issues. It’s not like he wears all of his problems on his sleeve; the iceberg goes much deeper than that. Though he sure as hell doesn’t present himself as a well-adjusted member of society. Proceed at your own risk. Don’t say you weren’t warned, because you probably were.
Bucky Barnes: This is the opposite of Captain America’s case. His reputation as the Winter Soldier kind of skews the perception of him to be a walking red flag. And you know, he really is. Bucky is extremely dangerous. Down to snap necks anytime, anywhere, no amount of charm or endearing quirks will make people feel fully safe around him. His history of violence did not stop post-brainwashing. And it’s not like he’s hiding it, either. There’s this crazed gleam in his eyes that just screams “fuck around and find out,” no matter what his mood is. Who in their right mind would involve themself with THE Winter Soldier?! Yeah, no shit you’re having issues with him. He is an issue.
Tim Drake: Bro is the epitome of “you’re scaring the hoes.” He could be walking down the street — face neutral, hands in his pockets — and total strangers will get the sense that something is deeply wrong with him. The aura around him exudes the reddest of flags. Yes, his face and intelligence are attractive, but even those who have fallen for his pretty boy swag can’t help but sigh dreamily and think, “he really needs to be institutionalized.” Disturbing humor. Creepy staring. Mood swings. Suicidal tendencies. Sadomasochism to the max. The list goes on and on and on. If Dead Dove: Do Not Eat was a person, it’d be him. What were you expecting? It’s Tim fucking Drake.
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klaus-littlestwolf · 5 months ago
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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
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Hybrids Mafia Princess Moodboard
Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist
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highonmarvel · 2 years ago
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Gauze.
content warnings here!
Bar On Jax Masterlist
Previous Chapter: Officer
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You were tense as James stitched up the cut in your wrist, trying desperately not to cry, now knowing that seemed something that turned that sick fuck on. You were grateful he had at least untied one of your arms as he stitched and bandaged you. Every now and again he hummed gently to himself as he worked, and it made you sick, that this man was taking so much pleasure in fixing you up as if he wasn’t the one who caused it. You couldn’t stop a few winces here and some tears falling there, but you tried to remain silent and avoid eye contact with him, but as he gently placed your hand back in your lap, you could feel him just staring at you, waiting for you to respond.
“Thanks,” you grumbled, not looking down at his work, just trying to enjoy the last few seconds of having your shoulder in its natural place before he pinned it back up to the other.
“Do you want me to leave that arm untied?”
You looked up at him with hopeful eyes, and his soft gaze returned the feeling; you could see the hope this would work out twinkle in his blue eyes, and it made you angry, that he really thought that you could ever care for him after all he’s done to you.
“Yes, please,” you breathed, hoping you weren’t tempting fate here. But he smiled softly and nodded.
“While I pack.”
“Pack?” you repeated, sitting up straighter as he stood.
He glanced at you with an annoyed look, as if to say fucking of course, that’s what I just said, dumb bitch.
“Wait—” you tried to use your free arm to pull your restrained wrist out, but quickly recoiled with a yelp as your cut stretched under James’ needlework.
“It’s only a few things,” he assured, “Because we’re leaving. Now.”
He was crazy and he was lying, he had to be. Where were you gonna go? Where could he go where no one would recognise him? Sure, maybe you could disappear and nothing would change, but Bucky Barnes disappearing would definitely turn heads, and even if, by some odd measure, the general public didn’t care, surely Sam would, or some of the other Avengers, SHIELD, anyone on the inside, really.
James pulled out a duffel bag, and began throwing clothes into it.
“It’s fine. I had a feeling this would happen,” he said, talking more to himself than you, really, “I’ve got the essentials, doll, just taking a few extras.”
He zipped up the bag and looked down at it with a smile, proud of himself.
In the front pocket was something small and cylindrical. He didn’t just put that in; that had had to have been placed there before. Why did he have a vial waiting in a duffel bag? Sure, it could have been a forgotten item from a previous trip, but everything James did felt deliberate, and so that vial may have been too.
“Listen,” his voice was suddenly low, nearly a growl, as he stalked back to your side, “You’re gonna stay in the trunk of the car, because you’re not well-behaved enough to sit with me up-front, baby, and you’re going to stay quiet,” he pulled open a drawer, never breaking eye contact with you, and pulled out a roll of gauze, “And behave. If you can do this on your own, maybe you can walk around in our new place, yeah?”
Gently, his calloused hands untied the arm above and brought it to your injured wrist. He held your wrists in front of you and wrapped and wrapped and wrapped thick gauze around them.
“I don’t want to use anything… harsher,” he said as he watched your burns and stitches slowly be covered by white cloth, “So please just behave,” he almost sounded desperate as he requested your cooperation. You didn’t respond, only watching in horror as you were slowly having your freedom taken away from you, tangibly, and you did nothing to stop it. You could scream, kick, fight until you were worn out, but, physically, he would always have the upper hand, and he would get you tied up in the end. He could overpower you physically, but still, you held on to your mental power, and for now, the best thing to do was play it safe.
You stayed silent, hoping he wouldn’t feel the need to gag you, but as soon as he tied a knot around your wrists, he immediately stuffed some gauze in your mouth, and wrapped it around and around your head, not too tightly, you could be thankful for, but the soft, woolly fabric still clung to your tongue unpleasantly, and there wasn’t anything you could do to rid the sensation.
You didn’t watch him as he worked, you couldn’t, for fear you would be sick, like his sickness in the head would contaminate you physically. He used zip ties to bind your ankles together, and though obviously not the most comfortable, they weren’t the most uncomfortable either.
He left the room with his duffel bag, and returned not too long later without it.
Bucky scooped you up gently, bridal style, specifically. Your head fell back and you looked to the ceiling, but he didn’t make a move to support your neck.
Once outside, he was able to swiftly open the boot with you still in his arms, and that’s when you started wiggling and grunting, trying desperately to fall out of his grasp.
“You’re a criminal, doll; don’t want anyone to see you. The place isn’t too far from here, you’ll be fine,” he cooed, and your eyes snapped to his. Anger was bubbling, he could definitely feel it, in the way you stilled and the way your face was turning red, and surely your mouth would have twisted into a snarl if you had not the stuffing.
He admittedly a bit carelessly dropped you into the boot, and you bounced slightly with a small grunt. You shifted to peer out into the day; it was cold, the weather, but not nearly as cold as James’ icy stare, his blue eyes frozen in sternness and near-impatience; he just wanted to leave, and he just wanted you to,
“Behave.”
With that, he slammed you in. The small space was making you anxious, just by what it represented; being able to do nothing within walls; it was how James was making you feel, taking away your control and so wrapped in delusion he was so certain you would just conform to his expectations, his fantasy of you being his… girlfriend, or whatever the fuck, you didn’t know, it hadn’t even been a week!
The engine started up and the car began to reverse. You were honestly grateful there was no window; you didn’t need to watch your life shrink away, you could feel it; your apartment, your car, your job at the bar which you had held for a while now and… that was it. You honestly had very little, but it was yours all the same, and now it was, your life, being merged into a man you barely knew and who killed the person closest to you and who killed someone you had the potential to be close to.
Angry didn’t even begin to cover it. Where the fuck did he get the audacity? Where the fuck did he get the idea that he had the right to kidnap a woman he barely knows? That thought upset you, that maybe other women had suffered similar fates, maybe even worse, at the flesh hand and metal hand of the lunatic in the driver’s seat.
You were losing concept of time; having played a few songs in your head to get an idea of how many minutes had passed until your head hurt from the noise bouncing in your mind through your own thoughts and the aggressive bumps on the road were getting harder and harder to ignore. You were off-road, definitely, so you could only assume he was taking you somewhere remote, where no one would hear you scream, where you couldn’t escape on foot, impossible.
Hours, minutes, you honestly couldn’t say how long you were in the boot and how long he drove for when all you could do was hope for it to be over, and promise yourself that on the count of ten, this would all be done, and you would be able to breathe properly again as you struggled to breathe through your nose, the oxygen in the boot already poor enough, stained with that car smell. You would count to ten, and the car still wouldn’t stop, and you would sob, until you regained the composure to count to ten, and the car still wouldn’t stop, and you would sob, until you regained the composure to count to ten, and the car still wouldn’t stop.
Nothing would stop; the past few days it had just been one thing after another after another, and, honestly, even if you were to be trapped with him forever, the least you could hope for for now was just a pause, a break to actually process what has happened instead of rushing into surviving the next challenge without having know how you’d survived the first.
The car was slowing down, the car was finally slowing down, but your heart rate was speeding up trying desperately to get your attention, but you stared straight ahead waiting for him to open. First was the sound of a car door, open, close, then another, open, close, and then keys, and a door a bit away open, remain open, and then shoes on gravel, approaching you at a taunting speed; quick enough to keep you in an immediate anticipatory state, but slow enough for you to feel cornered, like a predator taking time with his prey because he knows he’ll always win in the end.
You flinched when light basked down. It was night, but the moon shine was still bright compared to the pitch blackness of the boot.
“Thought you’d be asleep.”
You knew you looked horrible — messy hair, eyes red, cheeks stained and the gauze wet from tears — and you wanted to snap at him for the comment; did he just to think you could just sleep off his abuse?
He pulled you out and let out a blissful sigh as he once again held you in bridal style. Your right arm was trapped against his firm chest and you couldn’t wiggle your arms free to try to bash him over the head. Despite your very careful movements, he picked up on what you were doing and pressed you harshly against you, and you groaned, feeling so close you were sure he was trying to have you dissolve and become one with him.
You were woozy as he took each step; his height gave you slight vertigo worsened by the car sickness; everything was just in motion, everything about your life, and now your body. You suddenly felt you were ascending and snapped your eyes opened, not even realising you had closed them in the first place.
He entered a room, then its en-suite, and set you down on the toilet.
“Ten minutes in here,” he started as he gently took your wrist and undid the knots, “If you try anything I’ll shoot your fucking kneecaps.”
You flinched as he pulled a knife out and twirled it in his virbranium hand. You thought he was going to hurt you, but he just sliced through the zip ties, and you sighed as you felt relief in your joints and relief he didn’t cut you.
Your already uneven breathing hitched at his dangerous words. Then, he gave you a sweet smile, blue eyes twinkling with hope, clearly hope you would give in.
You nodded quickly, at least unbelievably grateful to have a little privacy, a drop of liberty; you never realise how good freedom feels until you’re trapped.
The click of a lock as he left the room coincided with a sigh of relief. You used the toilet and began to run a bath, swinging your arms and stretching as far as you absolutely could, free from any ties for the first time in days, you didn’t realise how stiff you were. There was a single window far above the wall cradling the bathtub. It was way to thin to slip through anyway.
The steam frizzed your hair and you carefully slipped into the water, making sure to leave your injured wrist (that you had been moving too much already) from sinking in the water. You wanted to pull the stitches out just out of defiance, and to prove to him that you didn’t need him to fix you up, especially when he was the cause in the first place, but you didn’t, as the rational part of you knew that would be stupid.
The feeling of the soap on your skin was duller than you remembered; the last time you had felt it was when he drugged you.
Quickly you tumbled out the bath, and for the first time noticed the folded clothes on the edge of the basin; an oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties that fit perfectly. You swallowed your disgust as you pulled on the underwear, shuddering once, and ultimately deciding to push it to the depths of your mind.
“James?” you tapped on the door, and he opened immediately, like he had his hand on the lock waiting for you to say the word.
You stepped past him and into the room you hadn’t had time to take in; it was a smaller than his bedroom, at his first home, you guessed, but still more than comfortable, and you wondered where he got the money from. You expected him to stop you as he walked toward the balcony, but he didn’t. You slid the glass door open to reveal a peaceful neighbourhood, more like a cluster of homes, actually; there were only about three others in sight, and they were pretty far away, almost hidden amongst the greenery; trees were aplenty and you managed to spot a flower garden in someone else’s yard. You were glad you weren’t at least entirely alone, and breathed a sigh of relief at the thought that maybe you could one day at least manage to run off to someone nearby instead of being stranded in a cabin in the woods.
You startled as James stepped up behind you, but he gripped your shoulders to prevent you from jumping forward and held you in place.
“They don’t care,” he leant down to your ear, “About what I do. They don’t care about you, they don’t know you, only I do, doll.”
His firm grasp didn’t even allow you to shudder at his manipulative words. Someone would care, they really would, and you would get out, and one of the neighbours would help, and you could go back to working on the Bar on Jax. Sure, the worst memories of your life plagued that tavern, but it was at least a constant in your life, working at the bar, a paragon of normality.
You swallowed lightly and willed yourself not to cry as a breeze came in and lightly burnt your eyes. James slowly let go, but trailed the back of his hands lightly down your shoulders, your arms, and stopped at your wrists. You immediately winced, even though he hadn’t touched your scar, but he instead wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back into him. He swayed slightly, and you had no choice but to sway with him, his chin rested atop your head as you continued to stare straight out.
“You did so well,” he mumbled, lips above your ear, “In the car, and you took care of yourself.”
Fucking obviously because I’m an adult, you wanted to snap back, but you didn’t.
“Can I leave you up here for a bit? I’ve gotta take care of something.”
You breathed out a “Yes,” half-afraid it was some kind of test, and he was going to tell you that you’re an idiot for thinking you could survive more than 10 minutes without him.
“Come inside,” he instructed. He stepped away to leave you entry to the doorway back into the bedroom, which had your stomach churning; it was going to be another jail cell, wasn’t it.
You sat on the bed, your hands in your lap as you waited for his next move, expecting him to restrain you again. He sighed and crouched down, one hand on your knee, but you kept your gaze on your hands in your lap.
“I won’t tie you up. Just behave.”
“I will,” you responded, softly.
“Atta girl,” he patted your knee and stood again. You could feel his gaze on you, willing you to look up, but you didn’t, you kept your gaze on your hands in your lap until you heard the click of the door closing and the switch of the lock.
As soon as he left, you stood up, wanting to get something done as quick as possible; the longer you waited, the closer he was to coming back. Even though your first instinct should have been to run, the thought of that vial in his duffel bag just wouldn’t leave your head, nagging, buzzing around your thoughts like an annoying mosquito you could only get rid of by confronting it.
You opened the closet facing the bed, and there was the bag in the bottom compartment. You dropped to your knees and pulled it out, turning the zipper toward you to reveal the front pocket with the outline of a small glass cylinder. For some reason, you were scared to see it, because something in you told you it wouldn’t only be bad just if Bucky caught you. With a deep breath and shaking hands, you reached in and felt around until your fingers wrapped around cool glass. You pulled it out; it was darkly-tinted with a beige label on, scribbled in pen.
F Temple.
You didn’t even have time to gasp let alone time to process the few letters you had just read when the click of a lock sounded again and the door creaked open.
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End of Gauze.
Next Chapter: Wait for…
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taglist; @cjand10
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 2 years ago
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Future
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Pairing. Dark Bucky Barnes x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
SUMMARY: Bucky wants you to become fully his, at any cost.
WARNINGS:  Babytrapping; Birth Control Tampering; NSFW (very lightly).
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.
--
Bucky doesn’t waste any time grabbing the pills from your bedside, switching them with another package that he has in his pocket. The sound of the water running tells him he still has plenty of time before you finish your nightly shower. 
He lays back in bed, a dreamy sigh leaving his lips as he thinks about what he just did. He did the right thing, that’s for sure. He knows perfectly how you see him, just a casual hook-up and nothing else. You only want sex from him and that drives him crazy.
Bucky wants you. He loves you. Deeply. He’d do anything and everything for you yet you’re too blind to see the extent of his love. You’re just immature, like many women these days. 
But he has the perfect solution for you though: a baby.
Once you’re all round up with his kid inside, you won’t have time or the strenght to go to those stupid parties or whatsoever. Your days of being a partygirl would be finally over and you’d take on the role of caring wife and mother. As you should. 
Soon, you’re stepping out of the shower, only a towel wrapped around your deliciously wet body. 
“Babe, what are you doing? Come to bed.” he urges you, expertly removing his shirt. His abs are on full display and he knows you won’t be able to resist him or round two.
You jump back to the bed, removing your towel and climbing on Bucky’s lap. His hands immediately grab your boobs, squishing them under his fingers and making you moan in pleasure. He kisses your neck, sucking the skin when you suddenly gasp.
You move towards the bedside table, grabbing the vial of pills and popping one into your mouth. 
“Almost forgot my pill. Because of you.” you joke, landing a playful punch on his arm.
Bucky laughs, greedily watching you swallow the pill. His eyes follow the lump on your throat as you gulp down the tablet. You immediately attach your lips back to his and you both fall back down on the bed, ready for some good time. 
But only Bucky knows how much this good time will cost you in the future. 
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yandere-wishes · 1 year ago
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The amount of times I've yelled "I'd marry him!!" To a completely deranged and evil fiction man is quite concerning.
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our-destiny · 2 years ago
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Yandere Winter Soldier x GN!Hydra!Reader <3
Trigger Warnings: Hydra employee SA's reader, murder, dehumanization, creepy staring from Winter Soldier, Winter Soldier being protective, Hydra generally being shitty, I continue to be terrible at endings - If I missed anything please tell me
I am not responsible for the media you consume, read the warnings, minors dni
Want to read more of my work? Check out my Masterlist
Word count: 1027
. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ . *  ✯. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ .
The Winter Soldier took a liking to you. He would ignore his handlers, staring at you whenever you're in his line of sight, never taking his eyes off you even while answering his handler's questions. It was unnerving, to say the least. No one knew why he liked you so much, but he didn't really do anything else apart from stare at you so they didn't bother worrying over it, just tried to keep you away from him as much as possible so the soldat wouldn't get distracted. That, however, was a mistake.
He started missing you. Missing your presence, your voice. Soon enough he started asking where you were, refusing to follow orders until he saw you. He had this weird fixation with you and Hydra couldn't do anything about it, he was their best Asset, and you were just a Hydra worker; replaceable. They humoured his desires, making sure to have you in the room with him at all times, which seemed to placate him, being able to watch you made him more... submissive, it seems. Calmer. He went back to following orders, not causing a fuss or refusing to speak. But eventually the Asset wanted more.
He stopped responding to his handlers again, just sitting there, staring at you, not moving or speaking. Up until this point you had never spoken to one another, the soldat just watching you while you squirmed under his harsh gaze, Hydra wondered what would happen if you.. called out to him. Said his name. Gave him orders.
One day the soldier was doing his usual stunt, not responding to his handler in favour of watching you breathe. A few of the officers started whispering among themselves, glancing over at your direction. A minute later the soldat's handler turned to you and spoke.
"You. Talk to it." You stood there dumbfounded. What did he mean 'talk to it'? "Come here. Stand in front of it and talk to the Asset." Hesitantly you stepped forward, his handler moving out of your way so you can stand directly in front of him. The soldat looked up at you from where he was sat, his eyes holding some sort of reverence for you, lips parted in awe. What should you say? You can't ask him how his day was or talk about the weather so what should you say? You settled on his name. Well what Hydra called him at least.
"Soldat." His eyes softened slightly, responding immediately to your word. "Ready to comply."
You glanced back at his handler, not sure if you should continue. After getting a slight nod from the officer you asked him, "Mission report?" Your voice was shaky, not used to giving orders and still not used to the way the soldat stares at you, but he responded anyway. For the first time in who knows how long the Asset complied without any fuss, detailing his mission to you. A feat no other Hydra employee could achieve recently.
Hydra quickly realized that this was the only way to keep their most prized soldier submissive. He'd only take orders if they were from you, always seeming eager to please you, saying "ready to comply" with a bit too much enthusiasm. When he came back from missions he'd relay the details to you, seeming to search your face for some sort of approval, like he wanted to know he did you proud, did what he was told to do like the soldier he is. The Asset worked harder, strived to please you, carried out your requests with fervour. You quickly got promoted to his handler. Not much changed, all you had to do was give him orders, orders which you were told to by higher officers. It kept him happy for a while, you having control over him, talking to you daily. But once again, he wanted more.
Other Hydra employees usually tried not to bother you, you were obviously precious to the soldier and crucial to getting the soldat to comply, but recently there was a new employee, a man that had not realized your importance. You could never really get comfortable working for Hydra, still talking with a quiet voice and trying to avoid any attention and he thought he could take advantage of that, cornering you one day in the hallway, pushing you against the wall trying to feel you up. Unfortunately for him the soldat was just returning from a mission and everyone knows the soldat immediately goes to see you after his missions. The Asset was not happy to see someone else feeling up his handler, and he was even more upset that he was making you uncomfortable, forcing you to do something you didn't want to. The Asset handled it a lot more maliciously than he usually would on missions, first focusing on getting the employee off of you, then only focusing on hurting him, nothing else but the crunch of his bones breaking beneath the soldier's metal fist, making him regret even touching you. Only when he was unrecognisable did he stop, turning to you to grab you, holding you in his lap, arms slightly shaking, growling at anyone who got too close.
After that... encounter he became more physical in a way. He didn't like it when someone got too close to you, wrapping his arms around you protectively. He got closer in general, getting closer to your face while staring at you, eyes lingering on your lips, so close you could feel his breath on your face. Sometimes he got confident, brushing his lips over your temple or cheek, as if testing the waters. Gradually, he applied more and more pressure to those half-kisses, until he was kissing you fully and often, whenever you gave him an order or he came back from a mission he'd kiss you, sometimes on the cheek, on the forehead if he was feeling particularly protective, but mostly on the lips.
It was some sort of fucked up obsession the soldat had for you, the want for you to own him and for him to own you, you're his and he's yours, no one else matters.
. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ . *  ✯. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ .
Reblogs make tumblr go around and are very much aappreciated <33
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sarahowritesostucky · 9 months ago
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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."
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"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."
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📖"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
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@cjand10, @violetwinterwidow01
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