#dark!winter soldier

[buckrecs]

HELLO so i was wondering if you have some winter soldier x reader fics?? ive been trying to find some but theyre all so short (still amazing stories tho) tysm, i really appreciate you making recs

Winter Soldier!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

Into Cursed Pixie Dust by @buckets-and-trees

“He's credited over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years…” but you don’t know that. You run into him once, then again, again, again. Destiny draws you together, and neither of you can deny the pull. And yet though he never ages, you do.

Stalker by @you-are-my-sanctuary

In which Bucky has a crush on the new PR manager and is being an adorable stalker.

sleepwalking by @lanadelreyscokewhor3

when your boyfriend bucky wakes up with the winter soldier mindest, you do the only thing you know how to do- comfort him. he does the only thing he knows how to thank you- possessive sex. 

Colors in the Dark by @buckychrist

The world is without color, and that’s never bothered the Winter Soldier. The Fist of HYDRA didn’t have time for love and soulmates. At almost a century old, what are the odds that his soulmate was even still living?

ephemeral by @earlgreydream

the winter soldier shows up wounded at your door during a storm.

Purgatory by @wkemeup

While on a mission, Bucky becomes dissociated into the Winter Soldier. But instead of becoming a threat, his instinct is to protect.

a soldier gone rouge by @kinanabinks

the winter soldier has been sent to kill you. why, then, are you so wet?

Reverse Psychology by @waiting4inspiration

Bucky’s Winter Soldier mode is triggered. But you have something up your sleeves that will bring him back.

Comply by @gogolucky13

With Hydra, everyone is a prisoner.

Don’t Fear the Reaper by @gogolucky13

One night, the Winter Soldier appears at your place of work to eliminate a target. He leaves you alive, only to return a few months later.

Fatal Mistake by @rookthorne

A rogue agent amidst their ranks, it was the perfect plan, a perfect escape. It was their fatal mistake. 

Wolf, Partner, Gloves… by @revengingbarnes

HYDRA’s words make Bucky go into Winter Soldier mode. Then he meets you, and you make for him words that will bring him back to normal.

the dragon and her shadow by @kashimos-hajime

You fall in love with the Winter Soldier, and they punish you for it. Sentiment is weakness, but what can they do? After all, they cannot kill the Fist of H.Y.D.R.A. and mortal men cannot even begin to comprehend slaying a dragon.

take it easy, romeo by @sunmoonandeddie

The Soldat remembers one person through it all.

You Found Me by @samthemarvelfan

Bucky Barnes always came home to you. What happens when he doesn't? Worse than that...what happens when he forgets you existed?

Gone Again by @tokoyamisstuff

The Winter Soldier is lost and confused, unable to remember a single thing - except for the place where he’d find the woman that had become his safe space.

I’ll Come Back for You by @milliedazzledust

something where he is in winter soldier mode and protecting the scientist (y/n) where she is the only one who can sort of calm him down after a mission.

Void by @theeleggymeggy

Working as a nurse at HYDRA, you find yourself intervening when you catch Alexander Pierce striking The Asset. You don’t even know this man, but you can’t just stand and watch him be beat down.

Sweet Memory by @

SERIES

One’s Promised by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Living a double life was not a choice when one was the daughter of Alexander Pierce. Y/N was the youngest agents of SHIELD and one of the most respected threats within Hydra’s empire. No matter her allegiance, she was feared by both. Y/N Pierce would’ve tried to escape it all… if it hadn’t been for The Winter Soldier.

Soldat by @the-fallen-nightmare

Captain America and Reader have worked together at SHIELD for over a year. What happens when they have a run in with The Winter Solider and Steve finds out the secret Reader had been hiding from him all this time? And what happens when reader is captured by Hydra and The Winter Soldier, again. Can she make Soldat remember her or is her life with Steve just a slow fading memory now?

 

Breach by @darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor (dark)

The reader finds herself in the Winter Soldier’s cross hairs during a lock down.

Reset by @lunarbuck

The government has fallen, Hydra has taken over. You were an agent of SHIELD long before the reign of terror began, and became a member of the resistance when they needed you most. Everything changes when the Winter Soldier captures you from your safe house.

Devil’s Backbone by @trashmenofmarvel

With your team dead and your mission failed, you’ve been taken by the assassin to an unknown location and are at the mercy of your cruel tormentors.

Krasavchik by @after-avenging-hours

While under orders from Karpov to test the Soldat’s loyalties to Hydra, you find yourself questioning your own loyalties.

Welcome Home… Soldat? by @winterarmyy

Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

[kaismasterlist]

|| Bliss ||

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

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

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

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

Status: Complete.

Chapters:

I

II

III

IV

V

[holylulusworld]

The cabin in the woods (2) - Angstober 21

Summary: You only wanted to clean out the family cabin…

Pairing: Dark!Winter Soldier x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, creepy vibes, fear, mentions of choking (non-sexual), dark winter soldier, kept reader, restraints

Trope: captivity

A/N: The end of kinktober is getting closer so we are getting a creepy little story today.

Catch up here: The cabin in the woods

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

If only you didn’t come here. The thought swims in your mind as you struggle to open your eyes.

Your head is throbbing, and your body feels like you got under the bus. Every part of your body hurts. Your throat is the worst. Touching your tender throat, you hiss. The bruises that formed it are more than painful.

“F—” you can’t even curse. Careful, you try to touch your throat, but something keeps you from it. You slowly turn your head to look at your wrists.

There are handcuffs around both wrists. A chain holds you tied to the floor. You shiver as the cold concrete is the only bed the man attacking you offers to you.

“F—!” You want to scream bloody murder, but just like your freedom, he stole your voice. You’re shaking now, not only from the cold but from the fear creeping into your mind. Your friends and family don’t expect you to return before Monday.

Mickey won’t care that you don’t call. He’ll believe you’re still mad because he left you hanging. If only he had come with you, the stranger wouldn’t have attacked you.

You wiggle on the ground. Not only did the stranger restrain your wrists, but he also wrapped a chain around your legs, keeping you immobile. It looks a little improvised, but the chain does its job.

“I wouldn’t try breaking out of the chains.” You whimper, hearing the stranger’s voice. Wiggling even harder, you try to rob away when his legs come into sight. “You’ll only hurt yourself, doll.”

He crouches next to your trembling form to run his thumb over your cheek. You scrunch up your nose because you can smell piss on your sticky clothes. No wonder. When he started to choke you, you wet yourself.

“If you promise to behave, you can take a bath,” he murmurs and roughly cups your chin. The stranger tilts your head, left and then right, making you wince. “Pretty little doll. I didn’t break you completely. Good.”

You try to tell him to get fucked, but you can’t. Not only because of your bruised throat, but the fear gripping you tightly. This man is more than dangerous. He’s a killer; you could see it in his steel-blue eyes.

“What will it be, Y/N?” You flinch when he tries to touch your throat. “I know you can be good for me. Don’t you want to be good? You’re not like your grandfather, aren’t you?”

He watches you wiggle your fingers, hoping to feel the engagement ring Mickey gave you a few months ago. Maybe it will give you the strength to survive this.

“I wouldn’t count on him, doll. I made sure of it while you were out cold.” He brushes his fingers over your cheek. Your eyes widen, and you whimper, fearing the worst for Mickey. “He’ll be busy with that pretty blonde chatting him up.”

You tilt your head to look at the man. How can he know your name or your grandfather? “Who ar—?” You choke on the words.

“I met your grandfather once or twice,” he says, eyes trained on your trembling lips. “He was a cold man, strict, almost sadistic.”

You sniffle. This is not the man you know. Your grandfather was always good to you. Well, except for that one time. But this had something to do with your father, not you.

“Your father was weaker. It was easier to find him and hunt him down,” your captor says. “The old man was hard to find. He hid in this cabin, and then he was on the run. It took me years to hunt him down.” He hums when you whimper again. “Don’t you worry, doll. You didn’t know a thing about your father’s and grandfather’s work for Hydra.”

Eyes widening, you look at the man. Hydra. You heard that word before. Whenever your father and grandfather talked in private, they hushed the word.

“Hyd—” You try to speak, but he presses his index finger to your lips.

“I wanted to kill you too when you came here to invade my home,” he whispers your name and leans over your body. “I decided against it, though. I thought-what’s the worst I could do to them?”

He smirks now as you stare at him with wide, fearful eyes.

“With my hand around your throat, I could feel your pulse racing. At that moment, I knew my revenge on them would be crueler if I kept their sweet girl as my pet…”

Tags in reblog.

[masturbucky]

The Intruder

DARK!Winter Soldier x fem!reader

Summary: You had issues with sleeping for the past two weeks. You wake up every night and you swear you can feel someone's staring from the shadows, but there's no one, and you know it's your imagination. Sometimes you feel touches. When you're tired of your mind tricks, you start taking those sleeping pills. It's good for you, and for the man who watches your sleep every night, too. But you dont need to know that. You need to sleep.

WARNINGS: DARK REALLY DARK PLEASE BE AWARE(!!!), Smut, Somnophilia, NON-CONSENSUAL EVERYTHING, AGAIN IT'S A FUCKING RAPE, Obsessive behavior, unprotected p in v, WS basically romanticizes from his sick point what he does to you, no y/n, literally NO comfort, creampie, marking, a bit of knife play(he tears your shirt off and touches you with a knife a bit), a lot of mentions of death by WS, choke kink if you squint, dacryphilia if you squint, what else? ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE! Also I kinda forgot to post it when I finished it and so i remembered only like an hour ago, changed some stuff a bit, but grammar errors are still on the table yk. Also, YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. I'M NOT YOUR DADDY I CAN'T TELL YOU SHIT, I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE A MINOR, IT'S YOUR PROBLEM.

You sigh, dropping your bag on the couch while slipping out of your shoes on the way to the kitchen. It's a living hell, you think.

Two fucking weeks you can't sleep. You wake up every night, a several times at least, with a fucking panic attack, or in a sleep paralysis, or whatever the fuck it is — you don't know, you don't care, you just want it to stop.

The thing is, you're going insane.

Every night the reason you wake up is this feeling of someone's eyes on you. Someone's staring at you, from the shadowed corner of your room, every night and it doesn't stop. At first you weren't brave enough to look. On the thrid night you said fuck it and turned the light on, looking around. No one, nothing, no trace of anyone's presence. The fuck you expected to see? The windows were closed, same goes to the door — you checked, three times and one more to be sure — and you were honestly confused and tired enough to get back to sleep. Only for the same thing to happen the following night. And the next one. And again, and again, and again.

You changed locks. Better safe than sorry, you know?

It didn't helped. You still feel watched every night.

Sometimes YOU SWEAR you could feel lingering touches on your body. Cold or warm.

Again, you're going insane.

You bought a fucking camera and installed it in your bedroom under the ceiling just to find your sleepy self and your scared to hell awake self, walking around and searching for the fucking intruder, on it in the morning.

You tried to invite your friends over for the night, but — what am I, a fucking joke? — they all laughed at you, when you told your story. Fuck them, really, you should consider searching for new friends.

You decided to go to the therapist your friend (the only one who, thankfully, didn't laughed with the rest, but still brushed you off) recommended you. The point is, you'll have to wait a month to get an appointment in their busy schedule. You ain't gonna wait so long, you need to sleep for fuck's sake.

That's being said, here you are. Reading an instruction list to Flurazepam, which is like a fucking blanket itself, and grinning like an idiot, excited. Fuck your brain really, fuck it's dumb imagination, fuck the imaginary intruder! You need your sleep and you'll get your sleep, thanks to medicine!

Tonight you eat, shower, read your evening book and get to bed happily, excited to finally get some sleep. Maybe you take a bit more Flurazepam than needed. Just in case, you know?

***

He entered your apartment the same way as always - it wasn't hard to steal your keys and make a copy. He's used to be unnoticed, they would've been disappointed if he was careless enough to let you know about his mere existence. So far, you're stupid enough not to look into details. Smart enough to try and change locks and install a camera, smart enough to show him that you're safe from everyone, but him.

He stops the recording of this damn camera before walking into your room. He solved this problem the first night you installed it. It's a nice kind of change, he must admit. Seeing you from different angle other than from cameras he installed before is nice, truly. Beautiful, clever and caring about his... needs, even without knowing about him. That's what makes you so divine.

Tonight... To be honest, he was waiting for this just as much as you. He was excited, even. For your sleep and his next move in your relationship, if he could call it that.

He takes his mask and glasses off, walking closer to your bed, to your sleeping, relaxed. Asleep, more calm than usual. Just like the first night. Your breath is soft, heartrate is slow, the pills you took obviously worked. You probably took a bit more than you should have, his dumb little thing you are.

He doesn't know how it all happened, to be honest.

What he knows is, he needs you. Badly. All the time, day and night, needs to see your beauty and he needs to be close to something as perfect as you. He thought they wiped everything that could've been even close to what he feels towards you, but apparently they only made it worse.

More likely they know where he disappears every night to. They know everything, and he noticed how much easier it became to sneak out. And if they know and let it be, then he's allowed to have this. Which probably gives them even more power over him.

But he doesn't care. As long as he can see his angel, as long as he can touch something as perfect as you are, he doesn't give a fuck about what else Hydra would make him do. Consider it done. Consider it dead.

He takes his gloves off, kneeling down beside your bed. Slides your blanket off your body, and takes a deep breath. You're in your usual clothes of choice — this tempting shirt, which he often can see your nipples through, which he allows himself to touch sometimes even, and a comfy pair of underwear. He doesn't know what other men usually consider sexy, but for him it is whatever you wear. Especially this pair of panties.

Brings his hand to your thigh, more confidently than usual strokes the smooth skin up, touching the soft material of your underwear and sliding under the warmth of your shirt, to your belly. He doesn't need to be careful now. You won't wake up anyway, you're too deep in your slumber, thanks to those pills.

He almost groans only at the feeling of your soft, warm skin under his fingertips. It's not often when he touches you UNDER your clothes. Too much of a risk, he never intended to wake you up. It would mean a too big step, he doesn't need you to put up a fight and resist too much. If so, he would have to hurt you. And take you away. He's not ready to do that just yet.

But now? Now he can at least do that much without rushing things into it's natural ending. He could have you now, he could taste you now, and then he would prepare to take you somewhere where he would do that as often as possible. He just has to be patient.

For now he could just leave you a message of who you belong to. A promise, of sorts.

The bed cracked under his weight loudly, thanks god you're so deep in your sleep, and the blade shines in the moonlight, so does the hand, the whole arm. Soldier knows that what he's about to do will break you. But a broken angel is still an angel, a fallen one is not.

However, he's very clear with his messages.

Your shirt goes first. The material breaks easily on a sharp knife, he uses it to kill after all, and he's devouring every second of it. He prays that it wont be possible to erase from his mind, just like it was with you, with his angel.

"Beautiful," He breathes out, his voice hoarse and his throat hurts. He hasn't talked in quite some time.

Your shirt is no longer on his way. And oh god, seeing your chest again makes him believe in heaven, whatever this is. When you'll be his, you won't be wearing any clothes at all. It will be his personal heaven.

"So beautiful..." He lowers the knife to your chest, tracing soft skin, nipples with the backside of it. He could so easily switch the side, he could leave a permanent mark on you, a reminder of your first night as his, but he wont. Not now, at least.

Then he lowers the blade to your underwear. Two simple cuts on either sides - and it's just as dysfunctional as the shirt. But he doesn't think you'll need them anyway, now. He might as well just... Take them, as a little reminder for himself? A promise.

He lifts your pretty legs up, resting them on his shoulders when he settles in between, and slides the thorn material from under you with his flesh arm. He wants to feel this. He wants to savor every touch.

Your panties are left in the pocket of his pants, and he returns his full attention to you. Only if you knew how beautiful you are right now, naked for him, ready for him. He would show you, one day. When you would be conscious and used to him, his presence, his touches. For now, this will do.

The knife is back in it's holder, and he lowers to your warm body. Hands slide up your waist to your tits, and the left one to your neck. Metal fingers trace the warm, delicate skin, pressing ever so slightly. The only time he really focuses on how much pressure he adds. Looks just perfect on you.

He can't wait anymore.

Right hand slides off your body to lower his pants, just enough to free his almost uncomfortable erection. He was so mesmerized by your beauty that he completely forgot about himself.

Leans back slightly, once again admiring the view. His angel, so perfect and peaceful, in her sleep. Your calm face, delicate neck, chest, your belly, legs and, a fucking paradise, your pussy. He can't see much, but he knows its perfect. He had seen it, many times, on the cameras. He also knows what you play with, and where you hide it. Lower drawer of your nightstand.

Soldat leaves a trail of open mouthed kisses on your neck, tasting your skin. It's his time to enjoy, his moment to savor, so he slides his hand down to your exposed to him — only him — heat. You're wet, just a bit. Enough for him, at least. Touching you is a privilege already.

Your legs are pushed up, over his thighs. He doesn't know if he wants to hurry up or take his time, it feels like he needs both. Contradictions became natural to him since he found you.

A deep breath. He lined himself up with your entrance, stroking himself slowly, just a bit. Smearing his precum over your clit and soft folds, enjoying the moment. It's so strange to be so overwhelmed. So excited. You make him feel things he didn't knew he was able to feel, and you have no clue. You will, eventually.

He pushes in slowly, groaning and almost cumming right away, holding himself back and biting on your neck. He takes a second to remind himself about how to breathe. Unbelievable. You feel like death. The best feeling ever, the only good feeling.

When he's fully in, he thinks that calling it a heaven would've been an understatement. Your insides around him are so much more.

When he pulls out to the tip and pushes back in, that's where he could've die happily.

You're so warm. So tight, squeezing his manhood just right. It's where he belonged, it's where he feels complete and forgiven. Your walls hug his dick perfectly, and he want's to stay in there until he fades away. And he wants more.

He's greedy when he starts moving. In and out, slowly at first, but getting faster — yes, he's greedy. He's guilty in more than greed, he doesn't care. With your pussy taking him so well, with your warm body under his hands, his lips, just under him — he doesn't care. It's all his, you're his.

Oh how he wants to hear more than those sweet whimpers from you.

He can imagine. His angel, you, under him, hands gripping on his arms, you'll be begging him for more and crying for him, clamping down on him so deliciously and needy. You'll be screaming — screaming the name he can't quite imagine, he can't remember, but he knows you'll be screaming it. One day.

He will take his time to praise you, to tell you how good you are for him, angel, taking all he can give, giving all you have. He will make sure you're shaking and breaking all over again on his cock, tears smeared all over your face and you're drooling with this fucked out look on your divine face-

Oh god, more. He needs more of you, he takes all he can take.

He will leave so much marks on your body, just like now, over your chest and your neck, while you'll be squeezing him inside and begging, begging for his seed-

He cums with a groan, slurred fuck left his lips, headboard of your bed cracks under his metal hand. Aftershock hit the Soldat hard. Right hand gripping on your hip, his breath is ragged and he barely remembers how to breath correctly — he knows this feeling well, but from the bad side. Now? It's euphoric. He doesn't want it to end, he wants to die right here and there, buried deep inside of your heat, with you taking his cum so well, his beautiful angel.

He opens his eyes after what feels like a blissful eternity, his gaze slowly focuses on you under him. He can hear your breath, hard and ragged, he can see a layer of sweat over your body. Small smile cracks on his face. Even in your sleep, you accepted him. You enjoyed it.

He doesn't want to pull out, but he does so anyway. He reminds himself that it's not the last time. He'll have enough chances to do it again with you, after all. He knows what to do. He knows how. He just needs to prepare it.

Soldat looks down, mesmerized by how his seed leaks out of you. There's so much, he has to resist the urge to push it back in. Or to lick it out.

You're so perfect, his beautiful angel. But he has to go.

On a second thought...

He reaches out to your nightstand, barely even looking up from your pretty cunt, still leaking with his cum. Grabs his mask and glasses. Puts both on quickly, then grabs the remote control of your camera from his pocket, and presses on.

After all, he should be very clear with his messages.

[waiting4inspiration]

Дорогая Masterlist (Dark!Winter Soldier/Bucky x Reader)

Дорогая Masterlist (COMPLETED)

Summary: Bucky's Winter Soldier programming has been triggered. Turns out the Winter Soldier has a thing for you.

Warnings: dark content, winter soldier!bucky, +18 content, strong language, dub-con/non-con, kidnapping, gaslighting

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Epilogue

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Dark!Bucky B. NSFW A-Z

This is a Yandere oneshot! It is DARK! That’s the entire point so if you don’t like that then don’t read it.

There are some mentions of abuse, kidnapping and Dub/Non-Con!

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat!

A stands for AFFECTION: how would they show affection?

•Bucky would bring you all kinds of gifts when he comes home from work

•Flowers, Chocolates, cute stuffed animals, soft warm pajamas to repel the cold mountain air and a plethora of blankets

•He's also a very touchy person whether you like it or not, his favorite thing is to snuggle up with you in a nest of the blankets you have

B stands for BLOODY: how bloody are they willing to get for their object of obsession?

•As bloody as he needs to get

•You don't leave his cabin ever but the one time that a ranger came upon you outside the cabin Bucky guided you inside before getting rid of him and ensuring no one would ever know about you again

C stands for CRUELTY: would they ever hurt their object of obsession?

•Bucky works hard at training you to be what he wants in a wife and when you fight him he can get very upset, he will more often than not take you over his knee and spank you until you're ass is bloody or on occasion lock you out of the cabin in the rain or snow

D stands for DARLING: would they cross their object of obsession's limits?

•Bucky will push you as far as he needs to to achieve his desired effect

•He doesn't want to hurt you but he won't let you refuse him or pull away and if he needs to fuck you back into submission he absolutely will

E stands for EXPOSED: how much do they expose their own feelings to their object of obsession?

•After he locks you in he will pour out his heart and soul, you will know exactly how much he loves you

•He doesn't hesitate to tell you what he wants and needs from you as well as what he can give to you

F stands for FIGHT: how would they react to their object of obsession fighting back?

•He won't take it well

•Bucky needs you to love him too, he's put so much work into making his cabin perfect over the years for his future wife so you can be alone together, you not showing him your appreciation would push him a bit too far

•He will spank you but if that doesn't work he will lock you out in the rain

•His last resort is sedating you. He will do this when you get too worked up and he needs you to calm down but it also allows him to have to help you do everything because you're so doped up

G stands for GAME: do they think this is just a game?

•In no way is this a game to James Barnes

•You are his everything and after all he has had to suffer in his life, he deserves you and you deserve to be cared for. He doesn't play games when it comes to his perfect little wife unless of course you're feeling playful and you want him to chase you. That's his favorite game because he always wins and his prize is getting to fuck you in the middle of the woods

H stands for HELL: what would be their object of obsession's worst experience with them?

•Your worst experience was probably your third night with him when you tried to get away the first time. It was pouring rain and you didn't yet know how far you were from civilization

•Bucky caught you trying to open the locks on the door and decided if you want to be outside then you will. He tightened and locked a collar around your neck with a magnetic strip that you could never remove without him and chained you to a tree outside

•You we're out there for what felt like hours to you in the freezing cold rain but what was probably only an hour all together. Your screaming for him died down as you began to lose your strength and he came to get you a few moments later, frozen to the bone and unable to talk. He changed you after getting you warmed up in a shower so you didn't get hypothermia and he held you for the rest of the night, his ungodly hot body thanks to the serum being a blessing for the both of you as he warmed you up so well and he finally got you to snuggle into him all night long

I stands for IDEAL: what are their plans for their object of obsession?

•He plans to make you his housewife

•James Barnes had wanted a normal life before being drafted, he was a ladies man but he wanted to find a cute dame and settle down, give her a good life and provide for his family while his women kept the house clean, made dinner and took care of him and the children they were going to have

•He never got that and he's determined to have it now with you, you'll eventually settle into your roll and be his sweet little wife and bear him children

J stands for JEALOUSY: how they react when jealous? Do they get jealous?

•He often got jealous when he asked you about your life before and you told him about past relationships but other than that he has no reason to be jealous, there's no one else around

K stands for KINDNESS: how they act around their object of obsession?

•Bucky loves and worships you, when he's in a good mood and you haven't upset him he dotes on you and it would be something you loved very much in other circumstances, and you will grow to love it as you grow to love him...or at least as you develop Stockholm Syndrome which you can practically feel your brain giving into in those sweet moments

•You learn after the first 2 weeks of fighting that it's not worth it, he's a super soldier and you are never getting away. You may as well just do what he wants and bask in the sweet worship of the man who loves you

L stands for LOVE LETTER: how would they approach their object of obsession?

•He took you the moment he met you

•And he didn't so much 'take you' as kept you since you walked up to his cabin in the woods when you got lost

M stands for MASK: how different are their public persona from their true selves?

•Bucky is a hero now that he works with The Avengers and people know him as the sweet, sort of quiet gentleman who's best friends with Captain America

•Only you seem to know how terrifying he can really be or how romantic and dramatic he can be

N stands for NAUGHTY: how would they punish their object of obsession?

•Spanking mostly, he's only locked you outside twice and you never tried to get away again since the first time, especially since it’s winter and you don’t want to risk losing toes

•Other than that if you fight he will happily keep you medicated if that's what you need to learn your lesson, it’s only more fun for him to take care of you when your stoned and snuggly

O stands for OPPRESSION: how many rights would they take from their object of obsession?

•Basically everything

•All you know in the world anymore is him and that's how he wanted it

P stands for PATIENCE: how patient are they with their object of obsession?

•Not very patient at all

•Bucky wants you to learn fast and be the house wife he wants

•He shouldn't have to say things more than once

Q stands for QUIT: if their object of obsession died or escaped, would they ever be able to move on?

•Died- He would be a recluse. He would remain in the cabin and bring flowers to your grave everyday

•Escaped- He would catch you. You're in a remote cabin in the middle of nowhere and Bucky knows these woods better than anyone but the animals, you are never going to get away

R stands for REGRET: would they ever regret harming their object of obsession? Would they ever let them go?

•Bucky doesn't want to hurt you, hurting you is just a means to an end

•Once you are trained and obedient, Bucky will be happy never having to hurt you again

S stands for STIGMA: what made their yandere tendencies bloom?

•Bucky had been hoping for a good little wife for a long time and when you showed up, hurt and admitting no one knew where you were, it was too perfect for him not to jump on the opportunity

T stands for TEARS: how would they react to their object of obsession crying/breaking?

•Bucky has no desire to see you cry

•If you're crying after a punishment then he will let you cry it out but if you're crying for another reason, missing your family or something like that he will absolutely hold and comfort you

•Even though you've been trying to get away from him he was very comfortable and warm, he comforted you in a way you never had been in your regular day to day life and he could tell how much you liked it when he was soft with you, Bucky knows that's how he's going to win you over

U stands for UNIQUE: something different they would do compared to others yanderes.

•Bucky keeps you with him isolated in a cabin in the woods where you have no chance of seeing anyone again

•The one Ranger that happened upon you he made sure would never see the light of day again and no one has come since, you will never be found even if someone was looking

V stands for VICE: what weakness their object of obsession could use against them?

•One thing Bucky wants more than anything is to get you pregnant

•He wants you barefoot and pregnant in his cabin and once you catch onto that you try and use it to your advantage, teasing him and wearing as few clothes as possible knowing seeing you like this makes him happy and he's less likely to punish you for whatever it is you do wrong that day

W stands for WIT'S END: would they hurt their object of obsession?

•If he has to hurt you to keep you in line then he will

•Whether that's locking you outside in the rain or snow, or letting you hurt yourself when you try and run from him, or drugging you up, either way he'll take care of you after but you're going to learn

X stands for XOANON: would they worship their object of obsession?

•Bucky loves you with everything he has and he will never let you go

•Once you’re pregnant Bucky will worship the ground you walk on, you will be the most cherished and protected person on the face of the Earth

Y stands for YEARN: how long would they pine after their object of obsession before they snap?

•Bucky takes you immediately the moment he meets you

•From the second you show up in his cabin he will never let you leave him

Z stands for ZENITH: would they ever break their object of obsession?

•He wouldn't let up until you give in and give him what he wants

•After a few months you realize you’re never getting away and you begin to give in quickly, finding out that if you do what he wants and tempt and flirt with him he will go much easier on you and begin breaking you down as you start to enjoy his loving, gentle moments

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[darkwritingsnshit]

Ancient History 8/Final

Warnings: This is going to be a dark fic. Please do not read if you’re under 18, or are uncomfortable with dark characters, noncon, kidnapping, alchol mention, drug mention, death threats, asshole characters.

The hum of the jet made it easy to doze, slipping in and out of consciousness was easier than facing the situation head on. Blinking when the jet touched down, you saw Bucky hadn’t brought you back to the tower, you recognized it as the larger compound Tony had renovated for his team years prior. You let Bucky pull you along behind him, stumbling and blinking in the daylight.

You didn’t know the layout of the compound, had only given it a walkthrough once with Natasha. Bucky pulled you down hallways you didn’t recognize, around bends and up some stairs. Coming to a stop before a door, Bucky leaned down to kiss you, pulling you in seconds later. You heard the door being locked behind you, then fingers plucking at your wrist to free you from the handcuffs you had nearly forgotten about.

“You’re home, you’re safe.” Bucky wrapped his hands around your waist, pulled your back to his chest, leaning in close to your ear, letting you survey the room.

Naturally it was gorgeous, a huge room with a sitting area, a place to eat and mix drinks, a fireplace in the corner by the bed and a wall of large sliding glass doors; they opened to a beautifully kept lawn and garden area, surrounded by a lush forest. Everything in the room was pale blue and white, couches and chairs matched the bedspread, pillows, and dust ruffle. The whole thing was so pretty you knew Bucky had nothing to do with the design.

“What is this place?” You finally wondered aloud, breaking your silence from the jet.

“It’s our home, your home for a while.” Bucky turned you in his arms, face far too close for your liking.

“My home?” Did he mean to have you live here at the compound?

“Yes, your home. It’s perfect for you here,” gesturing at the room with an arm. “Once you get settled in, we can talk about moving someplace else, just the two of us.”

Stepping away from him you pulled your hand loose and wrapped it around yourself.

“You want me to live in the Avengers compound with you? Are you nuts?” Glancing around you could see several exit points, already thinking of how easy it would be to sneak out.

“Actually,” Bucky looked stern, “you’re going to have to stay in this room until I know you’re not a flight risk.” Locking eyes, he gave you the slightest smirk and it was hard to keep from hitting him. Bucky quickly held his hands up.

“You’re free to go outside too! Look you have your own lawn and garden; it really is beautiful out here.” Rolling his eyes at the look on your face, Bucky once again looked amused. “Stark’s security system is smarter than you are doll, I actually think it might be entertaining to watch you try to run away, that is if you’re down for a chase.”

Eyes flashing you crossed your arms. He always made you angry, smugness and cockiness radiated off him. He knew he was stronger, faster, more brutal, he always had been, and you were sure he enjoyed it.

“You need to eat,” Bucky’s tone suddenly became stern, he turned and looked you up and down.

You knew you were a mess; Bucky had dragged you through the snow, brutally fucked you multiple times and brought you thousands of miles over the course of the last ten hours.

“I need a shower,” arms still crossed, not moving.

Bucky nodded his head and gestured for you to follow him. Opening a door at the far end of the room, a lovely bathroom, clearly built for two, was a sight for your weary eyes. Bucky pulled out towels as you followed him. You were not surprised to find your favorite soap, shampoo, and conditioner already in the shower, pink razor sitting next to them. You were surprised to see Bucky place clothes for you on the bathroom counter, a thin tank top and soft pajama pants.

“I’m going to get us some food, okay?” Bucky put his hands on your shoulders and kissed your forehead before closing the door to leave you in private.

Immediately you jumped up to check the vents, but they were bolted in place, the window not giving even a little as you tried to slide it open. It was too small for you to fit through anyway but worth a try. Once you decided there wasn’t a way out of the bathroom you began to strip, cranking the water to hot, standing below the spray trying to clean away the previous night. Try as you might, the black and purple bruises wouldn’t let you forget.

Warmed up and clean, you pulled on clothes, hung the towels, and turned the knob on the door only to find it locked. Frustrated, you banged on the door with your fist, wondering if it was too thick to kick down.

With a scratch and a click, Bucky opened the door from the other side with a smile at your wet hair and clean clothes.

“Sorry,” he said, “can’t be too careful with an escape artist in here.” Pulling by the wrists, he brought you to the table where there were two plates of food. “I know it’s been too long since you’ve eaten,” he reminded you, pulling out the chair for you.

Sunlight slanted across the room, blue sky peeking through the swaying branches of the trees. The way it hit Bucky’s face almost made him look beautiful. It almost made you see who he really was; a broken doll holding onto dead promises. Maybe you two were the same.

“You need to eat.” His voice breaking the silence ended the moment of peace. He stared at the food you were picking at.

“I don’t have much of an appetite,” you mumbled, pushing your fork around.

“Eat it. All of it.” Bucky’s tone made you look up at him, it was commanding, didn’t leave any room for argument. It was an order. He crossed his arms and stared at you until you began to eat at a pace he approved of. You heard him hum in approval.

“And what if I don’t?” You put your fork down, the numbness had begun to wear off after the shower.

“What did you say?” His tone was still icy, darker than it had been.

“I asked you,” you cleared your throat, “what if I don’t? What if I fucking don’t do what you want, asshole?” There was fire in your chest, you weren’t the same girl from Hydra years before.

Undeterred, there was amusement and malice in Bucky’s eyes.

“Sweetheart, you know exactly what I’ll do to you. Don’t encourage me.” He laughed lightly into his napkin, enraging you more.

Jumping to your feet had you yelling.

“You’re an Avenger, aren’t you? You’re supposed to be the good guys now, what the hell do you think your friends are going to say when they come visit?”

“Sit down.” Bucky’s tone was calm but deadly. “I’m only going to repeat myself once doll, sit down.” The look on his face had you in your seat in a second.

“Steve knows about our history, at least parts of it,” Bucky continued, “as does Sam, and even Nick Fury. I’m not going to say that they fully understand the nuances of our personal relationship but they hardly object to you staying here with me for a while. In fact, Steve and Tony helped me provide this home for you. I don’t think we’re going to have those kinds of problems doll.”

“So, this is it?” You couldn’t believe for a second that anyone approved of what he was doing. “I’m here so you can fuck me until I give you a baby?” Tears you hadn’t noticed now dripped off your chin, voice shaking in anger.

“No sweetheart, of course not.” Bucky looked so concerned, his hand covered yours on the table, not letting you pull away. “You’re here so we can have a second chance. A second chance at our family, at us.”

“Us? Bucky you’re brainwashed. Hydra fucking brainwashed you to make you think all of this, you can shake it off! This isn’t real!” Bucky squeezed your hand so hard it hurt, a cry escaping your lips.

“This is real,” Bucky wouldn’t let go of your hand. “You are real, I am real, we are real, we’re here, and we’re together. You can’t tell me that doesn’t mean something.” His eyes were hypnotizing, it was hard to look away.

“All that means is that I never really escaped.” It was a defeated sigh, closing your eyes and admitting you had lost, took everything you had left.

You let Bucky take your plate away, cleared of food under his watchful eye. You had never really escaped. The thought weighed heavy on your brain. How long had you deluded yourself? How many years had passed thinking you were free of Hydra and their schemes, when in the end their sadistic tortures had become your destiny?

“Hey, you in there?” Bucky waved his hand in front of you. “Come to bed.” He took your hand and pulled you to your feet, walking you back towards the bed. “You’re not going to make me handcuff you this time, are you?” There was a smile in his voice, but you weren’t looking. You felt a finger under your chin, lifting it to look in Bucky’s eyes, not fighting anything anymore. His smile faded when he saw your tears, pressed a soft kiss to your salty lips, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Let me make you feel better, okay?” His voice was soft, another sweet kiss placed on your lips. This was different, it was new. Who was this softer side of such a violent man? Bucky lifted you up onto the bed, hands never leaving your hips, laying you down against the pillows.

Almost lazily he kissed you, soft and slow, hands gently roaming your body. It wasn’t until he began to leave wetkisses down your neck that you remembered who he was. Tensing immediately, Bucky came back to your lips, hands running down your body to soothe you. Try as you might, it wasn’t possible to relax when Bucky peeled your tank top off, your breathing becoming shallow.

“Just let me take care of you.” Bucky kissed into the skin on your stomach, pulling down the soft pajama pants you had put on an hour earlier.

Leaving wet kisses along your thighs, Bucky buried his head between your legs making you gasp and pull at his hair. Tongue circling your clit, he had you bucking your hips and moaning, your body tingling. Not letting up, Bucky continued to lap you up, sliding a finger into your cunt, making you gasp and moan at once. Eyes rolling back, you tried to shake this off, it wasn’t supposed to feel good, you weren’t supposed to enjoy this. But the things Bucky was doing to your body had those thoughts running out of your head as soon as they entered.

Kissing his way back up your body, Bucky grabbed your hair and pulled you into a sloppy kiss.

“I told you I can make you feel good.” He was panting in your ear. You wanted to shake your head, tell him no but when his cock bottomed out in your pussy the noise you made was hardly a disagreement.

He knew how to fuck you, how to make you scream, to cry out, to make you beg for more. It was humiliating, you wished he didn’t know your body so well. Truthfully it was amazing. Every inch of you on fire, the orgasms he brought you to were unmatched, time was a blur, everything felt good. Even the feeling of Bucky cumming deep inside you felt good, it felt right. Even though it shouldn’t.

Still sweaty and wrapped up in each other, Bucky held you close, not about to let you go anywhere.

“I told you princess.” He breathed in your ear, “We were made for each other.”

________

“She’s so beautiful,” you had never seen him look so happy, “she’s the most precious thing in the world.” There were tears shining in his eyes, his show of emotion almost scared you.

Your daughter was clasped so securely, so tenderly in Bucky’s arms. You didn’t even know he was capable of such tender, gentle touches. You were so scared he would bruise her, hurt her with his rough hands, but he touched her in a way you had never seen, never experienced. How could he ever be so gentle? All he did was leave you littered in bruises at each touch, your heart at rest once you saw how gently he held her, how sweet he was, how fragile he treated her.

“Are you okay?” Steve’s hand was on your shoulder, watching you carefully.

“Yeah,” you said, tilting your head at Bucky and your daughter, “yeah, I think we’re going to be just fine.”

@emberenchanted

[our-destiny]

Day 6 of @creativepromptsforwriting's 30 Days Writing Challenge - Write about a blackout

A/N: These past 5 days I have been going outside my comfort zone, well today I decided to jump back in and write more Soft Dark Bucky :]

Content / Trigger Warnings: Stalking, Murder, implied noncon touching

I am not responsible for the media you consume, read the warnings, minors DNI

30 Days Writing Challenge Masterlist

Word Count: 1228

. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ . *  ✯. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ .

He was always watching. Everywhere you go he was always there keeping an eye on you. Or keeping you safe, as he described it. He left notes sometimes, though they were getting more and more frequent. That's also how you knew you weren't just paranoid; he really was everywhere. It seemed like as long as there were shadows for him to hide in, he would be watching. At first, they weren't as creepy. The first one you found on your desk when you walked into work. By now you had been feeling watched for about a month, but chalked it up to a lack of sleep because of work, but this quickly made you change your mind. The piece of lined paper was folded in half, blank save for some messy handwriting at the top.

I don't trust Michael. You should stop talking to him.

- James

Michael was your co-worker, he seemed pretty nice, you wouldn't call him a close friend but you talked to him occasionally. But you didn't know anybody named James, especially nobody that would leave a note like this. It was probably a prank, some of your co-workers were tricksters they probably saw how tired you were recently and thought you needed some fun in your life. You ignored it, kept speaking to Michael during lunch breaks and kept brushing off that feeling of being watched. That was until a week later you found another note on your desk, the same lined paper, folded in half with the same messy handwriting.

I didn't want to do this but you left me no choice. You should have listened.

- James

That day Michael didn't come to work. Or the next. Or the next. And a few days later they found his body. So maybe that wasn't a prank. And maybe you weren't just being paranoid.

The notes continued sporadically, a few of them were warning you not to get too close to that new friend you made and despite how bad you felt suddenly ghosting people you were too afraid to find out what would happen if you didn't. But most of them were harmless, maybe you would even say they were sweet if they weren't from your stalker. Stuff like, "Remember to drink water, you can't live off of caffeine." or, "That shirt looks nice on you." All from James.

But then they started showing up in your house. And 'James' started referencing things no one should know about you. How your shampoo smells nice, or reminding you to buy more bread before going home because you're running low. Or how that one annoying ex "won't be bothering you anymore." You assume they never found the body since you didn't hear anything about it. He also starting signing off differently, before it was just his name but now he says all sorts of things. "Yours Forever", "Love, James", "You own my heart,". He was talking as if he were your lover, not a deranged stalker with an unhealthy obsession. But that was how it stayed for a while. You'd never be apart from James, he would manifest in the shadows and you could feel his gaze scanning every inch of your body. You didn't know what he wanted but for now he seemed content with just looking, dealing with anyone who got too close for his liking, and leaving you weird notes around your house, lined paper, folded in half with messy handwriting.

As embarrassing as it is to admit, you were becoming slightly scared of the dark. Whenever you looked into shadows you swear you could see something moving in them, James haunting your mind, making you feel like the shadows are watching you. Your new found fear of the dark started becoming a hindrance on your life, making you jump at nothing, scared to walk down a dark hallway.

Which really didn't help when the power went out one night.

The storm was pushing against your windows, the occasional crack of thunder lighting up the sky. He was here, as he always was, watching you from the shadows. You had every light on, but even then he was still just out of sight. That was, until the room was swallowed up by darkness. And your phone was dead. How convenient. You should have charged it in advance, of course the power would go out on a night like this, but you were frozen on the couch the past half hour, waiting in suspense for the moment the power goes out, as opposed to preparing for it. You knew that he would make his move now when the room was pitch black. So you have to make your move first.

You stood up from the couch, ready to make a dash for the door at a moments notice. The wind was still screaming outside, making it hard for you to listen for him, but you heard him anyway. Footsteps. To your left. You turned to face the direction he was, and slowly tried to walk towards the door despite how little you could see. Then the footsteps stopped. Silence. You should have kept going, it was obvious he was in the room but instinctively you stopped, trying to listen for him again. That was a mistake.

He was behind you. You didn't hear him move at all, but that quickly faded to the back of your mind when he put his hands on your hips. When it comes to dangerous situations you always thought you'd fight or run away, you didn't expect to freeze. But you did. James rest his head on your left shoulder, nuzzling into your neck, and when he spoke you could feel his breath just below your ear.

"You scared of the dark sweetheart?" His tone was soft, caring, a bit gravelly, like he hadn't used it in a while, but it sounded warm. Not at all like you expected your stalker to sound.

"Shh, shh, don't worry, m'gonna protect you. No need to be scared, I'm sure it'll come back on in a minute." He started gently swaying the both of you, you guess the action was supposed to be comforting.

"James?" The combined fear of the dark room and your stalker made your voice shaky. God, you felt pathetic, the door is right there, he's not even holding onto you that tight.

"That's right, sweetheart. It's nice to finally touch you, when you're awake at least." James gave a small chuckle at the end, as if it was funny that he was touching you in your sleep.

"But, why?" What did he want with you? Why was he killing off random people for you? Why was he treating you like his lover when he's been stalking you?

"Mmm? Why?" He waited a breath while he thought of an answer. "Because you feel like coming home. After Hydra I didn't know what to do. But you feel like home and I'm not willing to lose that again."

He wraps his arms around your waist, the left one felt colder, pressing against you uncomfortably. He gave you a small squeeze, still rocking side to side with you.

"I'm not gonna lose you. Not gonna let anybody take you from me. You're all mine."

You don't think you're ever going to get over your fear of the dark. Not after this.

. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ . *  ✯. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ .

Support content creators by reblogging, I'd really appreciate it <33

[damnnnelliot]

am I making a dark!winter soldier fic for my friend to post on her wattpad? YES TF I AM! Am I going to post it on here? POSSIBLY!!

[vqmprlocked]

omg this man is sick! i love him!

He's not stalking you, he's looking after you, baby

Oh, is he?

Follow You Home

Pairing: Soft!Bucky Barnes x Florist!Female Reader Summary: Bucky just wants to see you smile when he visits you at the flower shop. Word Count: Over 1.9k Warnings: (S)talking, (c)reepy behavior, talk of (v)iolence and (d)eath, (s)exual thoughts, delusion, obsession, homeboy has issues (still love him), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Future fics for this AU will venture into (d)arker territory. Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @rookthorne. A/N: For @springdandelixn's Double-Trouble Sleepover (featuring flowers) and @darkficsyouneveraskedfor's Mini March Challenge ((s)talking, ribbon, plaid shirt). ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

A sense of serenity and calm washed over Bucky Barnes as he walked into the flower shop. The fragrance and colors almost overwhelmed him the first time he went in, but he learned to adjust. One of the only blessings of the trauma he experienced is that he could be extremely adaptable when the occasion called for it. Now he craved the sweet scent that surrounded him.

The way he craved you.

“Hi, Bucky,” you called from behind the counter. “Right on time.”

Like when he saw you the first time, he stared at you for far too long. He was still too intrigued to care if you caught him. Unlike most people around him, you never cowered under his gaze. You always greeted him with a smile which was enough to make his heart skip a beat.

Even if your smile didn’t reach your eyes today.

Still beautiful. Still mine.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a quick look around as he made his way to the counter where his flowers were waiting. “I brought you something.”

“Let me guess?” you asked, your smile still not as bright as normal. “A candy bar because I’m so sweet?”

Sweet enough to melt on my tongue.

“What gave it away?” he asked, handing it over with a small smile of his own. He could have set it on the counter, but he liked having an excuse for his fingers to brush against yours. “One day I might switch it up on you.”

“No, this is nice,” you said, sniffling. “Thank you.”

I’m reliable. Dependable.

Predictability had a way of putting some at ease. It communicated stability, safety, and security. He made sure you knew exactly what time he’d be at the shop and on which day. He always purchased the same flowers. Always brought the same wrapped candy after you commented one day that you craved it.

You'll crave me the way I crave you.

“Beautiful,” he said as he inspected the small bouquet and took a moment to steal a glance at you. Not that he needed to look over the arrangement. They were perfect every time, right down to the perfect ribbon bow to hold them together. “Mrs. Bradshaw will love them.”

Every week he bought a small bouquet of tulips for his elderly neighbor. She didn’t have many people to look out for her, so he checked in whenever he could. In some ways, she reminded him of Rebecca. Or at least what he thought Rebecca would be like if he got to see her grow up. Maybe it was why he felt the need to protect her.

He felt the need to protect you, too.

Just not from myself.

“It’s nice that you do that,” you said, ringing them up with another quiet sniffle.

“I don’t mean to pry, but is everything okay?” he asked, putting the change in the small bowl by the register.

“Just not a great day,” you tried to brush off.

“Bad customer? I don’t mind taking care of them. Just tell me who,” he offered.

A man screamed at you weeks ago over the cost of flowers for his wedding. You explained that he was receiving a discount and the price was agreed upon, but it wasn’t good enough for the jerk. You threw him out after he shattered one of your vases.

Bucky shattered one of his knees.

I’m not a bad man.

“No, it wasn’t a bad customer,” you said, your eyes misty as you reached for the candy bar and changed your mind.

"You can talk to me," he urged, placing his hand on yours long enough to provide comfort without being uncomfortable. "I'm your friend, right?"

I'm actually more than that.

"Yeah," you nodded, taking a deep breayhy. “You know my boyfriend?”

Bucky didn’t say anything for a moment. When his slight obsession with you began, he found out everything he could. While it didn't surprise him that you had a boyfriend, it disappointed him. Especially when he discovered that he was a decent man. Always friendly when he visited the shop. Even kept your place nice and tidy when he stopped by.

It was a feat Bucky didn't break every single one of his fingers for touching you.

“Yeah, I know of him.”

“He dumped me. Through a text,” you said as more tears welled up. “Just said we were through. No explanation. When I tried to call him, he blocked me."

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, his voice filled with sympathy as he grabbed a pack of tissues from his jacket pocket.

"My stuff was in a box this morning, waiting in front of my door," you went on. "I thought things were going great between us. Not too fast or too slow, but I guess I was wrong. Maybe he was seeing someone else."

"If he was, he's an idiot,” he said, itching to walk around the counter to hug you. It broke his heart to see you upset. “They can't see someone as perfect as you when they have you right in front of them.”

“I’m not perfect,” you argued, dabbing your eyes with the tissue. “Look at me. I’m crying in the middle of the shop.”

“You’re perfect to me,” he said.

In every way.

"Thanks, Bucky. You've always been very kind."

“It’s the other way around,” he said, clearing his throat. “And I appreciate it more than you know.”

Because of Bucky’s past, he did his best to blend in most days. As a man forced to do bad things against his will, the truth behind his actions didn’t matter to some. They had their minds made up about him and would never trust him because of what he did.

Do people feel better by making me a villain?

But one day, while he was out trying to make amends, he spotted you helping a homeless man on the sidewalk. He had seen him before. Most passed him without a second glance, but you crouched down and checked on him. You even gave him a bit of food you had on you and some money.

“I wish I could give you more, but that’s all I have,” you said.

The man nearly cried with gratitude. No one else cared, but you did. That was when you spotted Bucky looking your way. He could avoid being seen if he wished, but part of him wanted you to notice him. If you recognized him, in a good or bad way, you didn’t show it. You merely smiled, gave him a friendly nod, and walked on.

As if you hadn’t changed his life.

Bucky didn’t mean to follow you at first, but he had to make sure you got to wherever you were going safely. He didn't want anything bad to happen to you. Besides, a gaze between the two of you wasn't enough to leave him satisfied. Once he squashed his curiosity and made sure you were okay, he thought he’d leave you be.

He was wrong.

The second he walked into the shop and saw you again, he knew you had to be his.

“You’re caring and strong. You deserve kindness and respect,” he told you, wondering if the depths of his feelings showed in his eyes. “Someone who will love and cherish you for who you are.”

“I might cry again,” you smiled.

It reached your eyes this time.

“I’m just glad you’re smiling again,” he said. It would be beautiful to wake up to it each day. He was going to make that happen.

“Is it okay if I ask for a hug?”

“Sure,” he said, opening his arms.

You moved around the counter and leaned into him with a sigh. He smiled as he held you, feeling a warmth inside of him that he hadn’t felt since before he met you. He imagined many times how he’d make you shiver with need once he had his hands on you and it took strength not to stretch you out on the counter.

Just like it took him strength not to touch you in your home.

Watching wasn’t enough. It never was. He’d have you in his bed soon.

Where you belong.

“It’s probably for the best. I think he was stealing some of my panties,” you said against his shoulder before you gasped. “Oh, my god! I shouldn’t have told you that. I’m so sorry.”

Bucky loved the feel of your satin underwear around his cock. It was easy to imagine how wet they’d be against your pussy as he teased you. Not that you’d wear underwear much once he had you. Maybe he’d keep you in one of his Henley’s. Or a plaid shirt so he could rip it open. Or little sundresses so he could push them up around your hips.

So many options.

“Don’t be sorry,” he smiled when you kept your face hidden. “I’m glad you’re comfortable with me.”

As you should be.

“Thank you, Bucky,,” you said, lifting your head and gazing at him. "You're a good guy."

"I'm trying to be," he whispered, holding you a bit tighter before he let you go.

If anything, he'd be good to you.

"Here," you said as you pulled away and grabbed the largest red rose in the shop. “You should find someone special to give this to. I think they’d be very lucky.”

“Yeah, I think I will,” he said as a couple walked through the door. “I should let you help them. Is it okay if I see you tomorrow? Just in case you need a friend."

"I'd like that," you smiled.

"I'll see you later then," he smiled back.

“Bye. Thanks again."

Bucky left the rose next to the candy bar when you weren't looking and walked out the door with his tulips in hand. He’d have to explain to Mrs. Bradshaw that he’d be moving shortly. His new home was ready. A place outside of the city. Quiet. Secluded.

Perfect for the two of you.

Bucky was going to take great pleasure in the two of you christening every room of the place. He'd even fill the rooms with roses and other flowers to show how special you are. You deserved beauty in your home.

He frowned when he suddenly thought of your tears. Your now ex-boyfriend hadn't seen him coming. As much as part of him hated that he ever touched you, had been inside you, he didn't want to cause an innocent man pain. Not when his only crime was that he wanted you.

I just wanted you more.

He almost felt guilty for sending the text and blocking your number. He felt even worse when he remembered how the light left his eyes. That feeling went away when he boxed up your things. It had to be done.

No one would find the body.

Maybe I am a villain, but I'll be your hero, too.

Once Bucky saw you home safely tonight, he’d wait until after midnight to make his move. He did say he'd see you tomorrow. He’d show you how easy it is to break into your place undetected and bring you to your new home. A place where he could keep you safe from a world that didn’t deserve your kindness.

He didn’t have a choice or control over his life in years past, but he did now. He chose to take back control. To begin again.

Starting with you.

And who better to love and protect you than the former Winter Soldier?

You'll love your new home, right? Bucky thinks so. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[waiting4inspiration]

Дорогая Epilogue (The Winter Soldier/Bucky x Reader)

Summary: Months have now passed and things are getting easier. Until the team finally shows up in a late, almost unwanted rescue.

Warnings: +18 content, MDNI, dark content, angst, small fluff, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, end of the series, did I write this with the possibility of a sequel series; yes I did, will that sequel happen; probably not

Word Count: 977

дорогая Masterlist II Marvel Masterlist

Things slowly got better as the months went on. You slowly learned how to deal with your new type of life, and things fell into a kind of routine. You cared for the house and for Bucky and you saw little of the Winter Soldier. Bucky would make sure that there is everything you two need in the house, food and other supplies. And sometimes, if you were good, he’d take you with him to the store in town as a way to get you out and about. 

Sometimes you felt that no one would believe you if you told them of your situation. You don’t even want to tell them, fearing that you might release the Winter Soldier on them. Even though you’re not an Avenger anymore, you still want to protect people as much as you can. 

Some days, you forget how you ended up here. But the cabin starts to feel like home and that is how you treat it. Bucky allows you to change things, redecorate how you feel, and plant a few plants out front to make the cabin look more appealing. It also gives you something to do during the day.

As you trim the leaves of a plant, you find yourself smiling to yourself. It’s nice not having the feeling of responsibility of the world in your hands, fighting against threats to protect billions of people. You don’t have to worry about missions going wrong and the possibility of dying. Life is carefree, you tell yourself. And it makes you happy. 

The sound of a car pulling up makes you look up and a familiar coming towards you. You know that it’s one of Tony’s cars and when you see his face in the window, you stand up straight, not even dusting the dirt off your knees. But your smile fades and your heart sinks. 

Behind him, Steve climbs out of the car along with Natasha from the passenger side. You’re surprised they didn’t bring the entirety of SHIELD. “Thank God we finally found you,” Tony speaks, looking at Steve at Natasha with a relieved smile. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, your voice quivering slightly as you hear movement in the house. 

“Thought you’d be happy to see us. You know, considering that we’re here to rescue you,” Natasha says, folding her arms over her chest as she frowns at you, trying to read your expression. 

You shake your head, opening your mouth to say something, but you stop when the front door opens and Bucky steps out. Steve, Natasha, and Tony all freeze before reaching for concealed weapons. “Didn’t think you’d find us,” Bucky says, standing on the first step of the porch, his eyes flicking over to you, almost like a warning, and he nods for you to go back inside. 

“Get in the car, (Y/n),” Steve says, your head whipping over to him as you remain frozen.

“Go back inside, (Y/n). You’ll be safe there.”

“(Y/n), get in the car,” Tony urges, and the tension grows as you look between Bucky and the team that slowly walks closer toward you. You stare at Tony and Steve, your mind telling you to do what they say and that you’ll be saved. You want to go, but at the same time, you want to stay here. 

“Дорогая,” Bucky calls to you, making your head slowly turn towards him. There’s a pleading look in his eyes as he holds a hand out to you. You smile at him, knowing that he will do anything to protect you and what he has with you here. At least that’s what you think. 

Steve takes a step forward and when you look at him again, you see that he has his shield in his hands. “No,” you order, stepping forward to come between him and Bucky. “Don’t hurt him.”

“We won’t. Just come with us and we can fix all this-”

“There’s nothing to fix,” Bucky snaps, stepping forwards to come up behind you. “Tell them that there’s nothing to fix, that you want to stay here,” he whispers in your ear, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder. 

But you don’t say anything. Instead, your eyes go to Natasha who stands tense, ready to jump in when needed. Bucky’s hand tightens on your shoulder as a warning, making you flinch. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying here.”

“He’s manipulating you, (Y/n),” Natasha says, causing Bucky to look up at her with a wicked smirk on his face. “You don’t have to be scared. We’ve got this under control,” she adds and Tony nods at her words.

“Just come home and everything will be back to normal.”

“She said she wants to stay here. And here is where we both will stay,” Bucky says, snapping at Tony and glaring coldly at him. “So maybe you guys should just leave,” he adds, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you back into the house. 

Tony, Steve, and Natasha stand in shock as they stare at you, waiting for any sign from you that tells them to jump in and intervene. But you don’t even look behind you as you walk back to the house.

Inside, you look out the window to see all three of them still standing outside the car, chatting between themselves while looking back at the house. You feel Bucky standing behind you, watching the same scene as you, and he takes a deep breath through his nose. “It’s better that they leave,” he whispers, his hands resting on your hips as he rests his head against yours. “For all of us,” he adds, his flesh hand snaking around your body to rest on your stomach, pressing against the small bump that’s begun to grow. 

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[juiche]

I wanted to draw the winter soldier for years but never dared to, I thought I’d definitely mess it up. Late to the party as always, but I finally dared to do it 😊

This one is based on a photo that Sebastian Stan took by chance prior to the Civil War film, having no idea what’s about to come :> I thought it’s wonderfully angsty 😌💅

get your own print here ❤️

[darkwritingsnshit]

Gone but not Forgotten 8/Final

This is a dark psychological fuckery fic. Please do not read if you’re under 18, or are uncomfortable with noncon, smut, dark characters, mentions of death, descriptions of death, asshole characters.

For the first time in months, you slept through the night, not even the sun lighting up the blinds was enough to pull you from sleep. It was the smell of breakfast that stirred you, confused at first when you woke up in an unfamiliar bed. Stretching, you realized Bucky was no longer on the floor, and if you listened closely, you could hear music on the radio. You smiled, finally feeling some kind of safe. You put your feet on the floor and walked out to the living room. Bucky greeted you with a cup of coffee and a good morning, leaving you to wake up slowly on the loveseat.

            “Any plans for today?” You asked Bucky after finishing your coffee, awake enough to have a conversation.

            “I was going to get some groceries, you’re welcome to stay the weekend but we’re going to need some food if you want to.” Bucky sat on the chair opposite you.

            “I can go shopping, are you sure it’s ok if I stay for the weekend? I don’t want to monopolize your space.” You were unbelievably grateful to have a place that soothed you, but you knew you couldn’t stay there forever.

            “I have to get some work done downtown today anyway, there’s no need to make two trips.” He waved off your worry. “Why don’t you stay here for the weekend, and we can see how you’re feeling then?”

            He wasn’t pushing you; he was giving you a choice. He wasn’t telling you to talk to him, forcing you to go to therapy, making you get up and get out of the safe place he provided, he was just letting you exist without stress. Perhaps there were benefits to being friends with a traumatized, disabled war veteran. A real smile settled on your face, a look Bucky hadn’t seen on you in a long time.

            “That would be kind of perfect.” Your voice broke on the last word, the stress that had been eating at you making itself known.

            “Want some breakfast?” Bucky stood with the question, going to start some eggs and toast when you nodded. He turned up the radio when he went into the kitchen, you grabbed the book you started the night before and settled into the loveseat.

            After the two of you finished breakfast, you went to do the dishes and Bucky got ready to leave.

            “If you need anything while I’m out, just give me a call or send me a text, I can usually make those work.” Bucky had one hand on the door, the other on his bag.

            “Thank you.” You told him, thanking him for far more than just a place to stay. His face softened, understanding flashing across it.

            “I’ll be back this afternoon,” Bucky said, “try to give yourself a break.”

            You nodded and watched him walk to his car.

            For the first time in months, you had a place to stay that you felt safe, you were going to take full advantage of it. You cleaned up the breakfast mess and continued around the house, you swept the floors and tidied the bookcases. There wasn’t a lot to busy yourself with, so you ventured outside. Breathing in the morning air made you realize you’d been living in the city too long. There was no smell of cars or asphalt, no honking horns from down the block, you didn’t hear a group of drunk teenagers yelling at each other, or half of a phone conversation someone was having too loud in a public space. You felt soft grass beneath your feet, saw trees that made a forest buffer from the road, heard the rushing of a river somewhere close by. You spent your morning this way, enjoying the sunshine, the nature that couldn’t seem to be present in the busy city. Birds hopped branch to branch, squirrels chirped at each other in warning. When the sun was high and you felt your stomach start to rumble you went back inside, finding some basics in the fridge to make a passable lunch.

            You made some lunch and a mug of tea, feeling sure of yourself for the first time in a while. You made sure the house looked nice for Bucky, you felt bad stealing his space, but eternally grateful. In the bedroom you realized that Bucky left a mess of blankets on the floor by the bed. Wanting to help, you took the sheets he used and found a stack washer/dryer in a closet off the bathroom. It didn't take long to see the linen closet in the bedroom, but the dresser was pushed up against it.

“Dammit.” It took a few tries and a smashed thumb, but you were able to pull the dresser away from the door behind it, to get Bucky some clean sheets. The dresser was heavy and awkward, but it was the only place it would fit in the bedroom, so you couldn’t give Bucky too much of a hard time, for putting it in front of the only linen closet the cabin had. The feet of the dresser groaned against the floor when you slid it out of the way enough to open the closet and get fresh sheets and towels.

Happy you hadn’t been beaten by an inanimate piece of wood, you pulled the closet open in triumph. Instead of enjoying a small victory, you stepped back and covered your mouth in shock. The small closet was filled with items that belonged to your dead friend.

There were three shelves, not very deep and not very wide, each shelf could have kept a set of sheets and three towels, but instead there were items you thought had been lost. You touched a box that was filled with pictures, some you recognized, some you were in, some showed only your friend. The back wall was lined with their old books, some personal, you saw a biology textbook they had to purchase for a college class they took once. Another box held random small items, their keys, their old phone which had never been found, their driver’s license, and a few letters from various people. What confused you most, was a manila folder that contained three passports, all with different names, but the same photo of your friend. Why would they have more than one passport? Your thoughts were cut short when you heard his voice.

“Hello?” Between the shock and the tears, you hadn’t heard the door open. Your hands started shaking, you dropped the passport you were holding. You looked around frantically, but there wasn’t anywhere you could go. You heard his steps, then the door to the bedroom opened wider.

“Shit. I should have told you not to go looking around.” Bucky’s voice was closer, it was almost angry, but you couldn’t look at him.

“What is all this?” You could hardly hear the words you spoke, this felt like a bad dream.

You heard Bucky let out a sigh.

“That’s something I didn’t want you to find.” You finally looked up at him, he was sitting on the bed staring at you.

You felt frozen, looking to where the passport fell to the floor for half a second before deciding to run. It was a stupid decision, he was faster and stronger, you didn’t make it a step before he blocked your exit.

“I was worried you’d react like this, it’s why I didn’t tell you.” Bucky’s arm around your waist pushed you back into the room. You sat down on your bed, hard, staring at him, waiting for something.

“You didn’t tell me what?” You whispered out, too many thoughts, too loud racing though your head. Bucky sighed again, ran his hand through his hair while trying to put the right words together.

            “I didn’t want to have to tell you that I killed your friend.” Bucky wouldn’t look at you.

            You were ready for some combination of those words, but it hurt more than you could imagine. You trusted him, you saw him multiple times a week, he had been there to help comfort you all those years ago, had offered his shoulder to cry on. Of the people you knew, he was one of the few to gain your trust, your kindness, even some of your respect. You had been played for a long time. That was what hurt the most.

            “Why?” There were a thousand things racing through your mind, one word was all you could manage to verbalize. Bucky still stood squarely in front of the door.

“They weren’t who they said they were.” He acted like his words should make you feel better, like they should make you feel something other than betrayal, pain, anger and hurt.

“They cared about me.” That was all that mattered to you, they grew up with you, loved you, they were family to you. You wracked your brain for clues that would explain what Bucky was talking about.

“You’re not dumb, what do you really think they were doing all those years ago? Why is it there are three passports in that manila folder you were holding? Why do you think one of the passports is Russian?” Bucky closed in on where you were sitting, the small room felt even more cramped.

You didn’t want to let his words get to you, to sully your memories of them. Even so, you thought back to your last interaction, the last things you said to each other. They had to go overseas, said it was work for SHIELD, that they’d be back in a week. That’s why it was so surprising to find their body only an hour from their house, when they weren’t even supposed to be in the country.

“You killed them.” Of course it was Bucky, he knew what he was doing. That was why you hadn’t found any evidence, no fingerprints, footprints, DNA or anything else to link him to their death. He was a professional, he was a ghost.

“They were going to hurt you, they were going to hurt everyone.” Bucky’s voice got lower, quieter, more intimidating. You didn’t like how he looked down at you, you felt small under his unrelenting stare.

“They never hurt me.” Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, you couldn’t hear what he was saying, you wouldn’t.

“Is that a price you’re willing to pay?” Bucky’s fingers brushed your cheeks. “You’re willing to let everyone you love get hurt, just because they weren’t going to hurt you? Is that worth it?” He knew your answer, knew you would agree with him. That didn’t make it hurt less.

“So, you just…” it was hard to speak, “… you just murdered them in cold blood.” It wasn’t a question anymore.

“Hardly the first time.” He drew closer to where you sat, the space between you even smaller.

“You’re a monster.” You met his eyes, you saw him for what he was, saw the man he insisted was long gone. But he hadn’t really gone anywhere.

            “Sweetheart you have no idea.” You weren’t expecting Bucky’s lips to find your own, or his body weight on top of yours, making you sprawl across the bed on your back. You let out a yelp around his lips, hands pushing at his shoulders to free yourself from his limbs. Your feet hit the floor, and you tried to run, but he was stronger, as always.

            “Let go!” You tried to kick, hit, flail your limbs to give you any advantage but you found none.

            “And where exactly do you think you’re going?” The snarl in his voice scared you, he never spoke to you so harshly before. Fresh tears began to slip from the corners of your eyes, fear and rage fighting for control.

            “To tell everyone you’re a fucking murderer.” You shrieked, the sound of your voice dying when he wrapped his arm around your throat.

            “And what makes you think they don’t already know?” His words were ice in your heart, of course they knew, how couldn’t they? The realization made you freeze, made the world stop turning, your thoughts come crashing down around you. Of course they knew. And they had all been lying to you for years. For a few minutes you couldn’t move, could hardly feel him touching you, some kind of trance was keeping you from controlling your body. You couldn’t speak, so he continued.

            “My pardon included a lot of stuff, a lot of deaths. They’re all in the past now.” In the past. His words brought you back to reality in an unpleasant way. Suddenly you felt everything, his hands on your skin, voice in your ear, it was too much. You lashed out, trying anything to free yourself from his grasp, but he just held you down tighter.

            “Then let the past die, Bucky.” The tears were flowing freely now, you didn’t try to contain them. “Let me go.”

            “The past can die, it’s gone. But this is the present, and you’re here with me now.” Bucky brought his leg between your thighs, you felt him run his hands up your body.

            “Why?” You choked out, wanting to burn his hands for touching you. The sick cold feeling they brought to your skin was overwhelming.

            “Because you’re so fun to play with.” A wicked grin filled your vision, you tried to hit him, but he was already holding your hands over your head.

            “Stop!” The only thing you had left was your voice, the rest of your body was firmly under his control.

“You know if you let me, I could give you anything you want in the whole world. You don’t have be miserable for the rest of your life.” Bucky acted like he was someone with all the answers, someone who cared about you, would make sure you were happy.

“I want my best friend back, asshole.” Tears ran faster, your voice broke. Bucky just sighed and shook his head.

“I wish you wouldn’t insist on the impossible.” He lowered his head to kiss your neck, giving you a bite when you wouldn’t stop trying to get away. You cried out, still trying to pry him off you, wishing your attempts would do more than slightly annoy him. But who were you to him? No more than a fly buzzing around his head that he could swiftly capture and crush. It felt like your heart was being crushed right now.

“Stop, please.” Your voice was shaky, quieter than you wanted. Bucky just hummed at you. You tried to stop him when he pulled your shirt off, his hands overpowering your own when you tried to hide your body from him. It wasn’t hard to do away with your pants, he broke the button and ripped them away from your legs.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to have you in my arms, doll?” Bucky’s voice seemed to come from all around you, it was all you could hear. Even with your eyes closed you felt sick.

“Is this really what you wanted?” Your eyes were red from crying, your voice strangled. Though it was useless, you were pushing against him, struggling for an ounce of control he wouldn’t give you. You knew you looked scared, confused, angry, tired. You felt like this day lasted a thousand years. Bucky looked down from where he was situated on top of you, ran his finger over the veins in your wrist.

“Not exactly like this, but I’ll take what I can get.” You were too focused on what he was saying and how to plead your way out of the situation to notice he had shed his own pants.

Your scream mixed with his groan as he pushed inside of you. You weren’t ready for his intrusion, your scream turned into a strangled gasp when he gripped your hips and pulled them against his own. You choked on a sob while Bucky lost himself in you. Finally, he could take you all in, finally you were beneath his fingertips. You felt better than he imagined, though he hadn’t been imagining your pleas for him to stop, or your hands trying to push him away, but they were easy enough to ignore.

Your mind whirled, it felt like you were looking at yourself from across the room. You saw Bucky’s hands on you, felt him inside of you, but it couldn’t be real. The sounds of your cries became drowned out by Bucky’s noises of pleasure, your resistance loosened as your mind slipped farther away from your body. You couldn’t control anything anymore.

Bucky freed himself from his shirt, his chest brushed yours when he whispered nasty things in your ears. You couldn’t hear him, your ears buzzed with static and fear, too aware that this monster inside you had killed your friend, had been the last thing they saw. You couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped your lips when Bucky put your nipple in his mouth, a smirk on his face when he leaned back. He was winning and he knew it.

You didn’t expect Bucky to lower his face between your legs, but his arms around your legs kept you from going anywhere. You tried so hard not to give in when his tongue connected with your clit, but each movement had you slipping farther from whatever reality you existed in. His grin was painfully smug when he emerged, happy once he was able to make you see stars and emit a whorish moan. You hated every all of it. It only took him a second to guide himself back inside you, another gasp escaping your lips.

“This is what I wanted.” Bucky fixed his eyes on yours and tipped his hips until yours rolled back and you made another sinful moan.

“No…” you choked, the pleasure he was giving you cut the rest of your words off. Bucky was unrelenting, his movements pushed you into the mattress, so you had no choice but to take what he gave you. You wanted to turn around so you couldn’t see him, it was torture enough that this was making you feel good, you didn’t want him to watch your face come apart too.

“Stop pretending you hate this.” Bucky’s voice whispered over the shell of your ear, he grazed his teeth over it when he made you moan.

“You can’t… fuck…” your sentence was interrupted when his hand met your clit and pushed you over the edge of your orgasm. Your body arched and he kept going, undeterred by your attempts to push him off.

“I knew you loved this… fuck I knew it.” Bucky’s hand found the back of your head and pulled you close for a crushing kiss. You felt him twitch inside you, felt his cum flood you before he stopped.

You could do nothing but lie there and shake, your mind and body still separated from each other. You just waited, waited for what he would do to you now that you knew, every worst-case scenario running through your head. You didn’t expect him to kiss you, that hadn’t been in any of the scenarios you pictured, your breath cut short by his lips.

“I can’t believe I let this much time pass.” Bucky looked down on you beneath him, but not with anger, with some mix of pity and regret. You were still finding your breath, but your tears made it hard. You were trembling, tears slipping through the corners of your eyes, running down to wet the pillow.

“Are you going to kill me?” You didn’t know if he would hear it, but whatever made him so fast and strong enhanced his hearing too. He let out a soft laugh, his fingers traced your cheekbones.

“No, I’m not going to kill you.” He reassured you, before finally moving so you weren’t trapped beneath him. He tilted his head to look at you as if you’d gone crazy. “Why would I kill you when I finally have you exactly where I want you?”

[eccentricallygothic]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.

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

Soldat feels something stir within himself.

Something his masters did their best to suppress. 

Not that they would be doing any more of that. 

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

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

You are laughing.

At your friend that is throwing up.

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

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

His eyes scan your form. 

Beautiful. 

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

Mine.

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

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

And it's time to go home.

But a home is not walls and concrete. 

It is the people that live in it. 

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

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

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

For what is a structure without its pillars?

He had plundered them single handedly. 

And now he was a slave no more.

James would live, and he would take.

Just as had been taken from him.

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

You should have taken notice of the signs. 

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

Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was. 

Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence. 

And Divine it was, you lived to learn. 

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

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

What even happened? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widen in horror.

Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–

Or, rather, the last time you were awake.

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

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

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

With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.

"Who the hell are you?" 

He sighs. 

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

The man's features scrunch in disapproval. 

Your choice of words is much unappreciated.

"Good little wives don't ask questions." 

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

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

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

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

He is too close. 

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

The shock on his face is evident.

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

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

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

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

Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.

You run without looking back. 

The man is not chasing you like you expected. 

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

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

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

Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.

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

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

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

You ran into the jungle for some cover.

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

Your body is weak and confused. 

Many hours pass.

You wander and starve.

You hide and shake.

You tip toe and give up.

There are wild animals all around you.

You can hear them.

It's terrifying. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He tells you your rules as he does so.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don't give up easily, though.

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

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

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

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

But you don't know when he does it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today, though, something different happens.

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

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

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

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

No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.

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

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

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

Has to be.

You have no choice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don't get him sometimes.

His morals are as mysterious as him. 

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

Your tears don't effect him. 

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

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

The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It had been a proud discovery of yours.

James always gave in a little whenever you used it.

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

Fuck.

"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"

"What about it?"

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

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

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

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

Fuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had done so in the past as well. 

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

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

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

And then comes the ultimate test. 

Which decides the course of your future with him.

He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.

It isn't a usual occurrence. 

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

While he had a metal arm himself…

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

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

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

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

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

A motorboat. 

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

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

You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting. 

A lot goes through your mind.

Flashbacks play before your eyes.

It is almost a full circle moment. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"

You two just stare at each other for a while. 

No words exchanged.

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

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

He has never spoken this earnestly before.

"I just realized that I do too."

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

He tightens his own arms around you gladly.

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

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

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

It was a test and you passed. 

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

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

.

What do you think hAH-

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the shadow’s soul obsession

kinktober, day five

a/n: extra, extra! come get your nasty monsterfucking, hot off the press!

summary: for the entirety of the rest of the night, you felt as if you were being watched. However, what you mere mortal didn’t know, was that the group of you college girls hadn’t been successful in communicating with any spirits on that autumn eve, but instead had been successful in cracking open a door, just wide enough for a demon to slip through.

warnings: demon!bucky barnes x virgin!reader, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, college au, halloween party, accidentally summoning a demon at a slumber party, bucky needs to "recharge his batteries" via sex (but virgins are the most potent), bad friends, monsterfucking, somno, loss of virginity, blood (just fit this fantasy), slutty demonic magic, kissing, size kink, belly bulge, dirty talk, fingering, squirting, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cumplay, references to gaping and fisting

word count: 2602

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

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2024

“So, do you know yet what your costume’s gonna be for the omega kappa beta party?”

“Alice,” you looked to your friend leaning against the opposite side of the kitchen island, “I don’t even know if I’m going.”

“Oh, come on,” her head tilted, “you have to!”

“Yeah,” the blonde to your right then teasingly suggested, “you could go as an angel since you’re already just as sweet and pure as one.”

With each passing moment, the end of October crept ever nearer. You were at a slumber party with a few of your friends, who unlike you, didn’t still live at home with their mothers, but instead in a sorority house on campus. 

The door to the kitchen then swung open and one of the other girls came waltzing in, “hey, look what I found!” she held what looked like a faded board game above her head. 

“Oh my god,” Alice gasped, “is that what I think it is? Where did you even find it?”

“The attic,” she plopped the box down on the table and the lid popped off, letting everyone spot the old Ouija board inside, “so, anyone up for contacting some ghosts or what?”

When everyone around you swiftly agreed in the spirit of the season, you were the only one who didn’t, although the teasing that quickly drowned you, about you being a scaredy cat, pressured you into joining despite your initial fear. 

Most of the girls leaned into your amusing anxiety and made the game more dramatic than it needed to be, taking every chance they got to make you jump in your seat. But none of their attempts rivalled the one towards the end when one of them spooked you so fiercely that your body shrivelled up and a shrill scream tore its way out your lungs. They all laughed at your reaction and abandoned the board, too entertained by the success in scaring you to continue and wrap up the pretend ritual in the proper way.

However, during every second of the eerie game and even ever past that, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, though it wasn’t just because of how scared you admittedly were, as there was someone else, something else, that caused that sensation to bubble up within you. 

For the entirety of the rest of the night, you felt as if you were being watched. However, what you mere mortal didn’t know, was that the group of you college girls hadn’t been successful in communicating with any spirits on that autumn eve, but instead had been successful in cracking open a door, just wide enough for a demon to slip through.

From the second the sliver of him slipped through, Bucky felt drawn to you and instantly became completely and utterly entranced by you. Your soul was so bright and pure it nearly blinded him as he felt himself grow stronger merely from your presence. 

Who would have thought such luck would have been on his side, for with a perfect and potent little virgin like you in his gasp, an entity such as he would be able to restore his full power in no time. 

And when you eventually fell asleep on the couch and he greedily let his spectral touch ghost across your form, sliding off your blanket and coping a feel over your pyjamas, each caress he ravenously claimed felt to him like his lungs once again expanded and filled with oxygen, like he became a little more corporeal and regained just a little bit of his powers the longer and the fiercer he groped you.

Though what he truly needed to regain his full potential, unfortunately, had to wait, as his demonic grip caused you to stir from your slumber just enough for you to roll over into a new position and fall asleep again, never to think more of it than just a light slumber. But perhaps if he kept it up long enough, he’d soon regain enough of his prowess to make sure you wouldn’t rouse no matter what he stole from you in order to return to the grand demon he used to be. 

The home you returned to the next day was just as empty as expected with only a kind note stuck to the fridge as an echo of your mother, reminding you that she wouldn’t be back from her business trip till far into the coming week. 

When darkness fell upon the town and the moon rose up high in the sky, you went up to bed and swiftly drifted off into sleep. 

As Bucky leaned down over your slumbering form, he smiled as he let a finger trace the edge of your face before he bent down and pressed his lips to your own. 

Now, it wasn’t just a kiss he gave you, but a fiendish hex that forced your frame to keep on sleeping, no matter what, until the sun once again crested over the horizon. 

“As much as I’d love for you to wake up and have you witness everything I’m about to do to you,” he brushed some of your hair out of your face, “we can’t have that,” his broad thumb briefly stroked your cheek, “at least not yet…”

Ripping the duvet off, he watched as goosebumps rose and dotted your skin from the chilly night air, how your nipples turned into pebbles beneath your thin nightgown. 

While his consuming gaze raked down your form, his grasp pushed your sleepwear up and let it bunch around your hips, granting him a view of how the cotton of your underwear moulded around your soft centre. 

A smirk twitched at the corners of his lips as he let himself drift back down, closer to your slumbering frame, “let’s see if we can fix this little problem…” before he pressed a hot kiss to your covered core, briefly running his split tongue over the fabric as the effects took hold. 

When he tilted back, it wasn’t just his own saliva that now drenched your panties, but also your own juices as he had successfully scrounged up enough of his power to force your pussy into a state of desperation, making it extraordinarily leaky and sticky with cream and quite literally drool for him. 

With a primal growl, the throbbing between his legs swayed him to dig his grip into your underwear and tear them off, tossing the shreds off to the side before he spread your legs wide. 

Enclosing his fist around the base of himself, angry and flush in his grip, he offered himself an ouch of relief as he stared down at you.

“Hell… what I wouldn’t give to hear you moan and scream for me… to see fear arise in your mortal eyes at every little thing I’ll offer you… but that’ll have to be another time… can’t have you wake up and ruin the ritual…”’

As he rubbed his fat cock against the mess he’d made of you, he couldn’t help but smile at the staggering difference as his unholy length weighted down upon you, making you look so tiny in comparison, so easy for him to just break. 

“Would you beg me to stop? Would you cry about how big this devil dick is? Whimper about how you couldn’t possibly take it, not even if you weren’t a pure little prude? Yeah, you probably wouldn’t even be able to take it then…” a dark chuckle then crackled within his broad chest, “good thing I don’t care,” before he ruthlessly slammed his cock inside, stretching your poor pussy out beyond belief. 

He let out a deep moan at just how incredible you felt around him, how he had to strain himself to work past your strangling tightness and bury himself completely in your haven. 

“Oh, well would you look at that…” a sly smile crept up on his lips as he glanced down at how you struggled to take him and spotted the tinge of crimson that stained his fat girth as he momentarily retracted, pulling out just till your cunt only clung around the bulbous head of him. His digits floated down to swipe some of your virginal blood up onto the pads of his fingertips before he brought them up to his lips and groaned as he let himself taste your ruined purity, letting himself regain even more of his vigour, “you are just fucking perfect…”

As he let his frame drift down closer to you, he draped himself over your slumbering form as he thrust mercilessly into you, watching you closely at the way his efforts caused you to writhe and tremble in your sleep.

Nibbling at your neck, his lips wandered further down as he ruthlessly rutted into you, splitting you open like the savage monster that he was, and eventually sank his sharp teeth into your shoulder. 

With a low growl, he pushed himself back up, though even as the movement threatened to let his colossal cock leave the warm embrace of your tiny hole, his hands roughly found your hips and brought you back down onto him. 

“Fuck…” he lifted your hips off the mattress and made your back arch obscenely as he used you like a toy, “you’re such a little whore and you don’t even know it yet…” his possessive grip dug into your hips so fiercely that his nails drew blood and left angry scratches in their wake. 

His black eyes then found the dull bulge that rhythmically appeared in your lower belly at each and every one of his thrusts, “can’t wait to see how you react when you wake up tomorrow morning, all sore and swollen, wondering why you’re so sensitive. If only you knew that some big bad demon followed you home and tortured your pussy all night long…”

Perhaps his brutal fucking had forced your slumbering form to orgasm more than once, though it was hard for Bucky to ignore it when you came this last time as you squirted all over his fat girth. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he chuckled and kept up his ruthless rhythm, never pausing once as he made your gushing pussy give him each and every drop, “I knew it was true that virgins pack the most powerful punch for us unholy folk, but damn…” he slammed you down against him hard enough for his bullying tip to bruise your cervix, “you’re even better… I might just have to keep you after this…”

And when he soon tumbled over the edge and pumped your little pussy full of his demonic seed, his ethereal form flickered till it wasn’t at all ghostly any longer, till his full power regenerated and he now sat on your bed clear as day with his spent cock limp against his thick thigh and horns protruding from his temples. 

Briefly, he swept his broad hand up your stomach before it scooped down to where you leaked with his essence. 

“Look at you,” he pushed two fingers into your mess and pumped his hot cum that much deeper inside of you, “you’re still so fucking tight…” he struggled to force another thick digit in beside the others. As his cock began to twitch and swell once more, he quietly groaned, “guess that just means we aren’t done yet… you might have helped me with my little problem, but this ain’t over,” he tried and failed to slip his picky finger in beside the rest, “I haven’t finished breaking you in yet, little human,” his free hand found himself in silky strokes, “I won’t stop till you’re fucking gaping for me, till I fit my whole fist up in here,” his thumb quit its attempts at sneaking inside and instead extended up to crudely strum your puffy pearl, “till you’re utterly ruined and completely perfect for me…”

The bassy music rumbled the entire frat house like an earthquake as you leaned over to whisper to Alice that you’d be right back from your libation location mission. 

Though when you stumbled into the kitchen, the crooked feathery wings on your back brushing against the doorframe as you passed, a loud sigh escaped you as your eyes scanned the various bottles lined up on the messy counter and discovered them all to be empty, “argh, seriously?”

That was exactly what you needed. 

To be at a wild Halloween party without any alcohol in your system to make the obnoxious people more bearable and make you forget how you’d rather just go home and try to sleep as none of your efforts all weekend had granted you any ounce of rest, only left you more exhausted than the day before and bizarrely enough also making you sore in the oddest of ways. 

But then as all hope seemed lost, a voice echoed from the corner of the kitchen, “hey, you like tequila?” and you glanced up to see a man in an elaborate demonic costume holding up a full bottle for you to spot. 

“Thank you,” your tense shoulders dropped slightly as you offered him a smile and stepped closer, “though I don’t know if an angel like me should accept a drink from a devil like you,” the joke slipped out of you as you neared him. 

As a bright grin crept up on the man’s lips, he light-heartedly squinted down at you and played along, “hm, yeah, you’re probably right. We demons are an untrustworthy lot. But, I am your only chance at getting drunk and numbing these dumbasses out,” he seized a plastic cup and began to twist the cap off, “so, what do you say?”

“What’ll it cost me? To make a deal like that with a devil?” you kept up the gag, “just my soul or do you want my firstborn or something?” 

Naturally assuming that the handsome stranger was still just joking around, you saw him smile as he poured you a drink and uttered, “oh, your soul will do just fine, sweetheart.”

As he handed you the cup, he joined you as you raised the hard liquor up to your lips, taking a sip of his own straight from the bottle, though he somehow didn’t make a face like you did when the harsh booze poured down your throat, in fact he didn’t even blink as he tipped the bottle back and kept his intense stare glued to you.

“Your costume is really amazing,” you complimented as you let your gaze wander over his burly frame, “your coloured contacts? And those horns? I’ve never seen prosthetics as good as those before.”

You thought the flattery would have pushed him to elaborate, but instead, the mysterious man just murmured, “thank you,” and didn’t entertain the subject any further. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” you uttered and noticed the few grey hairs that faintly speckled his scruff, “are you a professor?” 

“No, I’m not,” he shook his head.

A shiver ran down your spine as his stare continued to stay glued upon you, “then what are you doing at a frat party? No offence, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you just look a bit too old to be a student. Not that you couldn’t be, maybe you are–” 

“I’m not a student,” he cut you off, “I just haven’t been feeling that well lately and the person who helped me get better is here, so that’s why I went out tonight, to this college party of all places, to thank her properly and hopefully make her all mine…” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[buckyalpine]

Winter soldier x reader ft sex pollen

Unhinged winter soldier with sex pollen. This is wildly inappropriate (with some fluff?...) but I thought of it so you must all suffer with me. Imagine Hydra filling the room with sex pollen immediately after Buck is wiped, sending him out at in his most feral state in hopes that the winter soldier will lose control and give into the urges they've forced into him. They need him to breed another super soldier since they were unable to replicate the serum in his veins.

As soon as the dust fills the room, his pupils dilate, his tac suit far too hot, his veins pumping so hard they feel like they're going to burst. The straps holding him down release and his chest is heaving, trying to calm down the primal needs hes feeling, pain prickling his skin the longer he stays in the room. He grunts, striding out of the room and into the night, chasing a craving he has to get out.

He moves without a soul detecting him, until a sweet scent catches his attention. Floral, natural, innocent. Fertile. He's suddenly hyper focused on the thing his body is screaming for, following the unsuspecting woman, his teeth grinding through the pain. She enters a building and he observes each window before seeing a lights turn on, her nude silhouette appearing through the curtains.

It takes no effort for him to climb up the fire escape, easily prying the locked window open only to be met with the sound of the shower running. Her scent permeates all his senses and he nearly strips off all his clothes then and there, the pollen causing lust that makes his bones ache. The water shuts off and hes waiting like a predator waiting for its prey, sitting perfectly still while the door clicks open. She gasps and freezes in place and he sight alone makes him growl.

Pathetic little bunny.

"Who-who are you" she whispers, clutching her towel tightly together though it's not like she didn't know. Tears fill her eyes seeing the deadly soldier people spoke about, unsure if he even existed, the very rumor now sitting on her bed. He doesn't anything, groaning at the feeling of his arousal steadily dripping from his cock, palming his erection.

"Please-don't" She shakes her head, seeing his hardness pressing against his pants, his large presence suffocating because she knows there's no where to run. He slips his mask off, revealing his dangerously handsome face, his eyes wild with lust and need.

"But I have to" He grits out, stalking over to her and grabbing her by the waist, burying his nose in her freshly washed hair, deeply groaning at the scent of her bodywash, "mne eto nuzhno, zayka" [I need this, bunny]

"No-I-I'll do anything-" She trembles, squeezing her eyes shut feeling his warm wet tongue lick up her neck as his mismatched hands rip her towel away, pulling her hips flush against his cock. The rough material of his tactical hear scratches her soft skin, making her whimper when when he bites her shoulder.

"takoy myagkiy krolik" [such a soft bunny] He throws her like a doll, her ass bouncing off the mattress, flat on her back back while he undoes his pants, pulling his cock out. She squeezes her legs shut, shaking her head, his fat bobbing length taunting her as he pumps himself while crawling onto the bed.

"It hurts bunny" He groans, forcing her legs apart, her natural scent nearly causing pain as he stares at her pussy. Her button between her legs involuntarily twitches and he pinches it hard making her squeal, the sound causing a drop of precum to spill out.

His head is so focused on getting his release, he doesn't bother prepping her, shoving his cock into her tight cunt, grunting and forcing his length in when he feels resistance. He stars to fuck her hard, holding both wrists in his metal hand, keeping her pinned under him while he splits her open.

"Hurts-too much-to big-stop-" She gasps out her pained cries melting into muddled moans of pleasure, her own body betraying her, feeling her own warmth wetting his cock making it easier for him to slip in and out. "Oh god-soldat-stop-don't-

"You're wet" He hisses, almost accusatorily, pounding her harder, faster until the bed shakes and scratches the floor, the serum pumping in his veins making his cock sensitive.

"I need this-I need it" Sweat beads at his forehead, his balls feeling heavier than usual, the pollen causing his body to produce more semen than he naturally would.

"YA chuvstvuyu zapakh, kakoy ty mokryy, zayka" [I can smell how wet you are bunny] His balls throb painfully, his cock ready to burst as his thrusts become more erratic. He snarled against her neck as pleasure starts to lick up his spine, the bruising grip on her wrists tightening as he starts to pump her full of his load without warning.

She whimpers feeling shame for the delicious stretch of his cock, her cunt fluttering, swollen from his abusive pace. She finds herself flipped over with her ass in the air, her face pressed against the sheets, his cock rock hard again, prodding at her puffy folds.

"Not done-need more" he growls lowly, stripping his clothes off, his body heat dialed to 100. His crotch is covered in cum, a mix of his and hers, the smell of her driving him insane as he grabs her hips and slams her to meet his thrusts again. He has more power at this angle, fucking her like a mad man, groaning with his head thrown back, eyes rolled to the back of his head, only focused on pleasuring his cock.

"Ty shlyukha Zimnego soldata, ty voz'mesh' to, chto ya tebe dayu" [You're the winter soldier's whore, you'll take what I give you] He's at his most unhinged, grunting and groaning, fucking her like an animal, her muffled screams only causing his cock to swell more. "Make me feel good, make it go away bunny"

"Soldat please stop-too big" she begs and he fucks her harder, making her moan, pulling another orgasm out of her body even if she fought against it. His thighs meet the back of hers, rolling and rocking his hips, hitting her cervix until her sweet juices squirt out of her, obscene sounds of skin on skin filling he room. "SOLDAT"

"I have to breed you bunny" He shakes his head, unwilling to leave until he's sure she's pregnant with his child, forcing every bit of his cum into her. "My fertile little bunny" He nips your skin, running his hands over her tummy, imaging it firm and round with his baby growing inside. He loved the thought of such an unsuspecting, sweet angel carrying the child of he soldier, all of his cum making a mess in her pussy.

By the last round, the pollen has started to dissipate and the cloud is lifting. He pants, still rutting into her pussy, something tugging at his conscious, shaking his head when the lusty animalistic haze weavers.

"T-tell me your name" He rasps, his heart beating wildly, loosening his grip on her. She whimpers from pain and to her surprise, he slowly down, still grinding himself in, burying her face into her neck. "zayka, pozhaluysta" [bunny, please]

"Y/n" she whispers, unsure of why she told him, her voice catching in her throat when his lips press against her skin. She's limp in his hold, the smell of sex permeating the room, the sheets soaked with his cum, but nothing more full than her cunt.

"Y/n" He moans, his body trembling as he nears the end of his final release, stilling till he's milked himself dry, her soft body worn under him. Something is wrong, he can feel it, the emotionless control he had before, slipping from his grasp. He yearns to hold the woman in his arms but he can't .Something stops him.

His movements are robotic as he pulls away and slips his clothes back on, memories unfamiliar to him flashing through his mind.

He wasn't the soldier.

He was-

Her soft snores pull her from his spiral, looking up to seeing her sleeping form, fucked out from the way he'd ruined her. He frowns at the unfamiliar feeling of concern he's experiencing, pulling the covers over her body.

"Thank you bunny" He whispers, making her whine in her sleep, calling for the soldier.

"I'm-

He shakes his head, his previously wild replaced with those of a young man from Brooklyn.

"B-Bucky"

-