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jr-acrux101 · 2 months ago

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Soldat's Kin

Summary: You were kidnap to create the strongest soldier. Word count: 2.9k Not beta read. Dark Fic Глупый - stupid Вверх - up Полоска - strip Симпатичный - pretty держи ее в безопасности - keep her safe E/C-eye color H/C- hair color

Warnings: noncon, dubcon, kidnapping - 18+

PT.2

2014- Hydra Base

The girl drew in a labored breath, her hands were trembling; fear was coursing through her. Your hand found the ground, the cool and damp floor brought you back to reality. You were trapped, in this cold destitute room. There was a single, beaten up, stained mattress in the corner, your stomach coiled at the thought of what that was for. Sitting there, only God knew for how long, waiting, watching for any signs of life through the metal; it seemed to stare and mock you. Freedom on the other side, a steel frame only 4 inches thick was blocking the pathway. Prove of life was found as footsteps passed your door, holding in a breath, afraid it would alert someone.

Trying to find some comfort, you shifted. In doing so, pain erupted, you silently whimpered. The stinging behind your eyes was abrupt, blood from chapped lips was drawn; holding in the sounds of pain for only yourself to hear. With no light, there was no opportunity to assess yourself. It had to be a bruise, a massive one at that; from your rib cage to glute, pain pulsated. ‘I’m okay. It’s okay,’ you repeated this mantra, trying to convince yourself that whatever this situation held in storage, you were going to be fine.

Clenching your eyes tight, you tried to remember how you ended up in this room. A light ‘thud’ was heard, a soft pain was felt as your head dropped backwards into the wall. There was nothing, no recollection of how you ended here.

The sound of heavy boots hitting the floor were in the distance, creeping closer and closer to the door. Keys jingled, and terror spread through your veins, drawing in a breath, you closed yourself in. Making yourself as small as possible when the door opened, you flinched at the light that made it through the barricade. A scoff made its way to your ears, it belonged to a man, “Глупый.” You flinched at the foreign language, it sounded Russian. “Вверх,” you flinched again, body trembling. The man in uniform rolled his eyes, he grabbed your arm causing a gasp from the pain. “Up!” Wide eyes, and tear streaks stared up at the man, you nodded your head with a quick pace. Unable to speak, words caught in your throat, you hastily got up. Hand still gripped on the forearm, he dragged you though what was considered your safe haven now, “Follow.”

The hallway was dimly lit, made of concrete and the walls were cracked. You stumbled over your feet, as the soldier picked up his pace. What felt like a mile walk, of being continuously dragged, the pair finally stopped. The man reached with his free hand for the keys, before opening the door, the man turned his gaze to you, “Do not fight.” With your eyebrows furrowed, the man opened the door and threw you in.

Stumbling, you were confused on why there was a transfer to a new room. You examined her surroundings, the room was the same, except this bed; it was almost identical with one exception, this one had blood. You stiffened at the sight, with your eyes trained on the stain, there was no notice of the figure emerging from behind you.

“Полоска.” Turning quickly, you tripped over your own feet. Landing on the floor, in pain, you turned to the man who spoke. His hair reached his chin, his mouth was covered with a mask, and his eyes had black dust around them, masking his features. The hair on the back of your neck stood up, his eyes were cold and distant. There was no humanity in them. “Полоска,” he repeated the word a second time.

Mouth agape, you ever so slightly shook your head, “I… I do-don’t,” before you could finish the sentence, he bent down and hauled her to your feet.

“Strip,” there was a heavy accent, Russian maybe.

Eyes filled with terror, you uttered a small, “What?”

His eyes narrowed, “I said strip.” The tone was hard, and as you were going to protest, the soldiers' words echoed in your head, ‘Do not fight.’

Your bottom lip quivered from holding in the sob, eyes were stinging again; with trembling hands you undressed. The man watched you, not moving, not saying a word, simply just watching. You stood there in a bralette and underwear, shielding your exposed body - horribly. “All of it,” e/c eyes snapped to blue.

“Why?” It was small and weak but the soldier heard you still.

“The mission is to procreate,” the words were so monotonous and uncaring, it grew a pit in your stomach. You went to speak, but the man cut you off, “Finish, or we will get another woman. "The threat loomed in the air, you weren’t dense; ‘Finish undressing, or we will kill and replace you.’

You nodded, the tears finally falling. He looked at you and then the bed, understanding, you laid on your back. Ignoring the blood stains and keeping in the full blown out sobs, you waited. The mattress shifted under the new weight, the warmth of the man made you drop a few more tears. A hand slithered from your knee to the inside of the thigh, prying it to the side. A cold and hard touch made its way to the other thigh, a gasp escaped your lips. Eyes searched the man, landing on his left arm; it was made of metal. Your thighs clenched from the cold touch, but you forced yourself not to move, or to comment, the words he said kept you from reacting.

A metallic taste hit your taste buds, as your teeth gnawed at your bottom lip. The man continued, hand making its way high up. Sucking in a breath as he started to touch you, it was robotic. A man on a mission, no soft grazes, no playful touches. The cold metal against your burning flesh resulted in a flinch. Metal fingers were in and out, you clenched instinctively at the thought of something inside you. He spread his pointer and index finger, opening you more up. The man's stare made its way to your face, as you avoided acknowledging what was happening. Your gaze was trained on the ceiling. He brought his right hand, gently rubbing your clit. Your body squirmed at this new action taking place, he saw as your cheeks become dusted with red. He continued, enthralled at watching you squirm; besides this was part of the objective.

The Winter Soldier continued to watch you, as your breath became ragged. He felt his lower body slowly harden, this time of his own accord. Unable to focus on the ceiling as the man touched you, your eyes found his. Retracting his right hand, it made its way to his zipper. His cock sprang out, hard and throbbing. Glancing down, your eyes widened. “It’s too big!” You clasped a hand over your mouth.

The Winter Soldier simply stared, he put his member at your entrance, "It will.” Shutting your eyes, anxiety clawed its way through you: he pushed the head though. He was met with resistance, her body was wound up and tight. “Relax,” it was gruff, the tightness was painful.

A sob finally broke through your crumbling facade, “I’m trying! I am, I swear I am.” You clamped your mouth shut, afraid crying would agitate him. He narrowed his eyes once more, he brought his hand up, and you turned her head away. Cool metal was felt, he moved your face back to the original place. Your eyes sought his expression, his mask was off. His chiseled chin was clenched, her leaned down and captured you in a kiss. Slowly, the clenched and frigged state you were in, relaxed. He entered slowly, inch by inch settling in wet, slick heat.

A string of saliva connected the two as the Winter Soldier broke apart. His hips were flush against you, he pulled back slightly before thrusting back in. Your breath became ragged, and desire pulled in the bottom of your stomach. He repeated his moves, earning a moan. Curiosity got the better of man, he moved his mouth to your neck as he thrusted in. He sucked on your flesh, and your arms hesitantly gripped his shoulders. Thrust after thrust, licking, sucking after licking and sucking, You let out a moan. Clenching tightly around his girthy cock, made him falter his pace. Opening your eyes, looking at his ocean blue ones, you nervously touched his jaw. With no protest, you gently guided his face toward yours. His pace quickened as you moaned into the kiss. He let out a grunt as he came inside. No urgency was felt so there was no slowing down, he continued to fuck you as he came, pushing his cum further and further in.

Your orgasm snuck up as he continue to fuck you after cumming, you gripped him tightly as the waves continued to pulse throughout the body. Seeking some type of human connection, you held him close. Ragged breath, and chest heaving, the Winter Soldier hardened again. With eyes pleading to stop, you shook your head. “The mission is to procreate.” With that the night continued, orgasm after orgasm, until you were delirious in pleasure and pain, the perfect balance.

Everyday, at what you assumed was the same time, you would visit the Winter Soldier. Whoever gave the mission, also gave the soldier hours to complete each day. You were there for months, not that keeping count was feasible. Some days you would hear, “Winter Soldier is out.” He would be gone for long periods of time, when he would return - he was rougher, less touches, less softness… less humanity in him. The two of you never spoke too many words, just letting actions speak; both forced to the task at hand.

Before the last day you had seen him, he spoke, “Симпатичный,” it was low, as if you were not meant to hear it. E/C looked at him, as your body was sprawled for him to use. He climbed over you, as if he was stalking prey, his eyes never leaving yours. Your eyes fluted down to his lips, before reaching back to his pretty blue eyes. There was a ghost smirk on his lips, it was quickly squashed as the Winter Soldier does not feel. He was fully naked, his body burning against yours, the only relief from the heat was his metal arm; it hovered your breast. The cool metal in contrast to your body heat made you flinch as he gently pinched your nipple. You sucked in an inhale as the hand made its way to the upper part of your jaw. He had gripped the base of your neck, bringing you in closer. The kiss was anything but innocent, the lewd salvia being swapped as your tongues danced around each other would make a whore blush.

He pulled back, breathing hard and wild. You looked down, towards his body, his cock red and bulging, for some reason based on how he kissed you, you decided this would be different. Your voice was soft, always soft when you spoke to him, “Could you sit down?” There was no hard tone, or direct order, just a question with soft intentions. He hovered as you continued, “You don’t have to, but I,” you hesitated to speak, embarrassment now coursing through your veins, “I-I want… to uh… make you feel good, in a different way.”

Another moment of silence passed before he nodded at your request, “You could sit or lay down or do whatever felt comfortable.” The Winter Soldier kept his eyes trained on you, he laid on his forearms to have a view still. You pushed yourself up, landing on your hands and knees, you were shy and slow as you made your way towards his bulky thighs. One hand rested on said thigh, as the other gripped his cock. You slowly started to pump; up and down. He continued to stare, as you left your mouth agape, allowing his member to slide down towards your throat. He hit the back, you gave a sharp inhale through your nose, continuing to let him slide down until you couldn’t handle the size anymore. You pulled up slightly, letting your tongue slide around the head as you hollowed your checks. The Winter Soldier threw his head back, and let out a groan. He’s made sounds before, but knowing you were able to make him feel so good that he had to break contact, lit a fire in your stomach. You bobbed your head, repeating the action again and again. Letting yourself choke on his cock, swirling your tongue down and around, in circles even.

A freezing touch made its way to your scalp, he gave a soft tug - telling you to stop. You did as instructed, your eyes dark with lust. The Winter Soldier reflected that, the heat in his navel intensified as you asked a simple question, “Do you want me to ride you or get on my back again?” He pondered, never having to choose before, he looked at you then his member, motioning with his eyes for you to sit. You nodded, and positioned yourself over his cock, ever so slowly taking him inch by inch. The sweet burning sensation made your legs quiver. You took a deep breath as you finally met his hips with your thighs, he finally laid completely back. His hands resting on your sides, when you moved up he thrusted upwards, not liking the feeling of your warmth around him gone. You moaned as he did so, the slap of skin echoing throughout the room. He pulled your hips down, driving himself deeper in you.

“Симпатичный,” he said the same phrase as you gasped for air, the thrust winded you in a way, never having someone so deep inside you. He let his hips fall and pushed you back down, the Winter Soldier felt in control for the first time in a long time. He used you, in and out, up and down, his cock entering you repeatedly. His metal hand found your clit, the cool metal made you flinch. He rubbed his thumb of the pearl, gentle but fast. His thrust was becoming sloppy, you held yourself up, hands spread out across his chest. You bounced up and down, little “uh, uh, uh’s” falling from your mouth as the Winter Soldier was deep in you. He shifts forward, throwing off your momentum, now he is sitting up your clit up against his upper pelvis area. He leaned further forward, his lips kissing across your chest until he found your nipple. He suckled the perky flesh, beginning to thrust forward, his metal hand guiding you to fuck yourself on his cock still. Thrust after thrust, the Winter Soldier continued, when the warm feeling in your lower stomach made its way to your pelvis, you clenched as you orgasmed. He followed close behind; your tight heat becoming tighter, your moans sounding like symphony, and how your mouth part opened, gasping for breaths, it was too much for him.

You laid on his chest, becoming too weak to continue, too weak to even hold yourself up. You continued to clench around him, your body slightly convulsing from the pleasure still. With heavy eyelids, tiredness seeped through the body, your breathing started to even out and your body let itself rest. The Winter Soldier gently laid you on the bed, simply staring at your beauty. A h/c strain of hair laid effortlessly across your cheek, he stared at your lips; full, plump and raw. He slowly dressed, his black leather suit clad against his body, a knock on the metal door was heard; a sign his time was done.

Vlad stood there, posted in position next to the door. He kept his eyes trained on the floor. The Winter Soldier halted his footsteps, his gruff voice breaking through the silence, “держи ее в безопасности,” the man froze. The soldat never looked at anyone, he ignored all the other soldiers unless it was a superior officer, and Vlad was not that. He turned to Vlad, eyes piercing his soul. Vlad found himself nodding, in awe and terror; the Winter Soldier spoke to him, the Winter Soldier also trusted this girl to him.

Long h/c hair had the wind flow through it, the feeling of the sun’s warmth cascaded down your face to the body. The soldier that was assigned to you since the beginning, turned around and started to walk away. “Why?” He halted his steps, the question plagued you, and him.

Facing you, his gaze turned ever so soft, “Your name, it was my daughters.” His accent was thick but the words pierced your heart. “What happened to the soldat? Who was he?”

His eyes made their way to your stomach, then met your e/c eyes again, “An experiment. All I know is his name was James, and he was around for a while as a top assassin.”

“Thank you.” He gave a nod, and went on his way. Patting your outfit down, a map was found with the nearest town circled, and some money. Your mind wandered to the Winter Soldier, you hadn’t seen him in a while. With no return and the base scrambling, you figured he must’ve not made it out the mission he was assigned. Glancing down, the swell of your stomach made you nauseous. There was success in the task that was supposed to add an extra nine months to your life; now freedom was in your grasp, and so was life.

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darkdemeter · 1 year ago

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・issue #--・ 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍, 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄

⚤ Dark Pirate!Bucky Barnes x Siren!Female Reader Pirate Bucky — semi dark Bucky — submissive/soft captive reader — possessive Bucky — SMUT 18+, Minors DNI! — P in V sex — memory loss/wiping via magic (reader affected) — light use of physical and sexual acts to avoid conflict — indirect breeding kink? — pet names — brief consumption of alcohol — I think that's it? ✎ 4.1k He is your captain. There is no place you'd rather be than by his side, nothing you could ever want for that is not him. You owe everything, your entire self, to him. Yet overboard and on the tide you sail across, in search for a great and ancient treasure, a song continues to seep through the cracks of your heart and soul… a song so familiar yet unknown. Forgotten. Bucky reminds you yet again that there is no place else for you that isn't beside him, that there is nothing out there.

↳ MASTERLIST | ↳ TAGLISTS ────────────────────────

There lays a song forgotten in your heart and soul, distantly faint as the receding tide to the shore. With each spare moment of peace you were given to dwell beneath the lapping waters, you spend a portion of it in search of that song. And what time remains within the falling sand’s glass, you bask in the blue and faded black abyss.

Tonight is no different. You could not remember the forgotten song that lulls you tenderly, pulling through skin and scale, calling you somewhere far, much too far, away from the balancing hull above.

You could not abandon your captain. Betray the trust between you both. After all, it was he who found you washed atop the rocky crevices of the island, who rescued you from a fate of drying out in the sun’s merciless heat. Who took care of you when there was nothing left of the life you once knew.

To break that earnt trust, to betray him, you can’t think of anything far more heartbreaking than that.

“Time’s up, my Siren,” the voice of your captain beckons you. He calls you to the surface.

A sigh ripples through the water and your head tilts up towards the surface, the darkened slits in your milky white eyes shrink away from the moonlight penetrating through the waves. The long limb of your tail sweeps back and forth, thrusting you upwards, skin and scales shimmering brighter as you near the barrier between water and air. The breach pulls a lungful gasp of the night's chillingly crisp air, the only warmth coming from The Avenger.

Hair drench-pressed and thinned forms a curtain over your features as you peer up at the looming figure pridefully arching over the ship’s wooden rail. The slivered slits of your eyes grow wider as they focus on him, with a lantern beside him, glass scorched and worn by smoke, it illuminates the upper portion of his body. His white shirt ruggedly wrinkled and loosened to showcase a muscled chest, skin tanned by the sun’s heated kiss, sleeves rolled to the elbow, black ink painted legendary stories over his body in memorabilia. Stories forged into his flesh for all to study and cower in fear.

He summons you with a kink of his finger and you obey his silent command with an all too eager nod. Around you, the water spirals into a column and rises up, pushing you higher to reach the wooden railing. Aboard the ship, the crew is merry in their celebrations. Another successful day of conquest and battle on the high seas, another amassed sum of gold and valuables to add to hull and reputation.

Of course spirits would be high and cheerful tonight. And of course, what was a conquest without the captain’s prize at the end of it all?

Gathering yourself over the rail and onto the deck, the glistening shine of your tail morphs into two shapely legs, the milky hues of your eyes and other remnants of your true body hide in their human disguise. Your eyes find the hourglass on his opposite side, the sand all gathered in the bottom glass pit. Your captain holds something out for you and you graciously accept his gift, pulling the thin veil of your robe over your naked body.

His ocean blue eyes scan you up and down, the left corner of his plush, chapped lips turns upwards.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” He purrs his question and it brings a cold chill to run up and down your spine, your lungs freeze with what little breath they had at that moment.

He turns his body properly to face you, burly shoulders and thick muscles straining the fabric of his shirt. His eyes fold slightly into a sharpened stare of interrogation.

“I–I don’t…” You shake your head, breath hitching. “I don’t understand, Captain. I search for nothing that is not you.”

“Aye?”

Your gaze drops to the limb of his remaining flesh hand, the other limb itself brings an uncomfortable yet hazy familiarity, you dare not to look at it up close when in the awoken presence of his intimidating stature. Often you would question its being there and admire its raw and unique - mystical - materials, when your captain lay beside you fast asleep.

Wrapped tightly over and under the callousness of his palm, the golden chain twinkles in the pale moonlight, the larger pearl at its centre holstered by binding gold and tinier pearls, beneath the gilded net a more refined shape of a pearl dances on its link.

However, your mesmerised pupils flicker up in an instant, brought to the attention of your captain awaiting your obedient answer. A noise is pitched in your throat with the answer but it dies swiftly before its deliverance.

Your vision focuses behind him then, up near the ship’s helm, her fingers lace slowly in their hypnotic movement as the fabric of her scarlet magic is weaved together. A warning. You do your best to hide the distressed visage of fear, batting your eyelashes and brushing aside the death of your verbal response, you bow your body forward submissively to his that towers over you.

When your lips touch his, he almost instantly devours yours in a hungry kiss, the soft caress of your fingers tracing the curves of his chest brings pride and lust to possessively reel you into him, your nude front colliding against the hardened wall of his own.

Your hands run their course of exploration up the swollen bulk of his arms until they find purchase and entangle themselves in his dark locks. His own hands ravage your body, kneading the flesh and slim muscle of your hips.

He groans when you submit to his overpowering will, mouth parting to his eager tongue that shoots forward like a fired cannon, aimed to dominate you in every sense of the word. Your soft whimpers beneath him bring him unimaginable pleasure, the sort that drives him to seek it evermore, with no seeming end to his insatiable hunger for what is you; your entire being. Wolves are known to be ravenous beasts. It’s why he’s known by the moniker as the White Wolf.

His tongue fiercely dances over yours, swirling and his bottom teeth tease you by nipping your lip, earning a high pitched squeal from you. He chuckles, the sound rich and dark in its intention. Your core comes alight, burning hotly and the once cool air dissipates as heat courses through every vein and nerve in your body, your mind swimming in the ocean pools of his eyes. Eyes that at times are the only thing you need to be connected to the sea.

The prominent tent of his erected endowment presses against your stomach and lower abdomen. You finally pull away, however, in his caging embrace it’s not very far you’re able to move back.

“Wait for me in my cabin, little Siren,” he orders gruffly. Your mouth falls agape and you sputter in your rattled confusion.

“But I—” Still he penetrates you with that cold stare. It prods at you with radiant intensity, it matches the ominous scarlet glow that now burns brighter now as it moves down the upper deck’s stairs. Your eyes dart between the woman who controls the rolling waves of red magic and the ferocity of your captain’s hardpressed gaze.

Your head bounces quickly. “Yes...”

A few words of compliance are cut off by a gasp. As you attempt to follow his order and return to his cabin, he halts you within his metallic grasp and pulls you back in, curled lips mere inches from your own, in the clutches of his brazen hold, he commands your attention. Your hands are forced to rest over his chest.

He drawls with a warning growl, “Yes?”

“Yes, Captain Barnes.”

Bucky nods his head once and lets you go, his eyes flicker between the cabin door and you, silently instructing you to hurry along. Your bare feet barely make a sound over the wooden deck in your traversal towards the cabin, where you would await your captain to claim his prize. Treasure that he greedily gets to have all to himself. The conquest he takes glee in ravishing himself full of.

Once you’re tucked inside, exactly where he wants you, Bucky scratches at his stubbled jaw, his recent shave already beginning to grow in again. Wanda approaches his side, the fabric of her magic ceasing at her fingertips like embers passing over into lowly ashes.

“That was a close one,” Bucky growls, his tongue that savours your taste runs over his teeth. She hisses with a hushed tone, “With each outing she is given to delve into the sea, my magic weakens, Captain.”

His eyes roll to glare at the woman beside him. She sighs with a bow of her head, eyes downcast as to not provoke him into thinking her words a challenge.

“All I mean to say is that you must reinforce her rules. She’s beginning to suspect far too much, and with each piece of recollection, my power is sapped by her own. Enforce her rules once more.”

Bucky’s shoulders shrug upwards with an all too arrogant huff, haughty in his conviction. He idly tilts his flesh hand, admiring the piece of you he has wrapped up in his iron grasp.

“She will do well to keep in mind her place. She’s intimidated.”

“She’s conflicted, Captain.” Her words bring about a scowl to Bucky’s face, lips coiled into a snarl and nose wrinkling, eyes thinning. “And it will be a matter of time before she is free of you, and you will be known as the captain who lost his siren.”

The bridge of this knowledge leaves Bucky in a state of strife. An aspect to his notorious reputation was garnered by your captivity. The White Wolf known by all as the fearsome pirate captain who tamed a siren; held you in the oyster of his clutches. If he did lose you, then his reputation would be suffering a heavy loss. As if to sense his change of demeanour, her hands raise up with her glowing, magic tipped fingers. His nostrils flare and the harsh prestige that made him a force not to be trifled with, he commands, “Do it.”

Bucky struts off with a roll of thunder beneath his leather worn boots, swiping up a half drunk bottle of rum and swallows an animalistic gulp, joining in on the festivities of his crew. Wanda observes her captain for a moment before diverting her attention towards the cabin. Her hands fold over one another, and with her palms outstretched, the scarlet hue dances through the air in a thin, cloudy blanket, searching and finding the miniscule gap beneath the wooden door.

He pummels into you until your back pushes far into the mattress, eliciting sharp whines and sultry moans from your parted lips, breath caught in a pattern of shallow pants. He chases after his second high as he drives his cock deep into you, the sound of skin slapping skin perverts the cabin’s air and already you begin to feel your core tremble in its own pursuit for its fourth orgasm. With each powerful snap of his hips, his throat chokes out a grunt in his exertions, the girth of his cock sinks deep into the channel of your hot, velvety cunt.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he growls lowly with a hiss, “so fuckin’ tight! You feel so good, you’re— taking me so well.”

With an exceptionally powerful rut of his hips and he has you on the precipice of screaming, thighs quivering in their hold around his waist, heels digging into the dip of his large, muscular back. Any coherent thoughts and words die on the vine of your vocal cords, only able to procure sounds of pleasure, to chant his name over and over again.

“Captain Barnes!” you mewl with fervour. Bucky’s chest vibrates with a husky chuckle. “That’s right, scream my name, let the crew hear you, Love. Let them hear how drunk you are for my cock.”

His one palm is laced with sweat, thick and roughened fingers squeeze yours in a passionate display of his dark possessiveness over you. Your captain could be very jealous when another’s eyes lingered on you for even a second too long, many others had suffered the brunt of his fury - weapons ablaze - and you in the end suffered the brunt of his envy with his cock pounding into you for the next several hours.

To remind you to whom it was you belong to.

His lips suckle one of the erected peaks of your breasts, moaning as his tongue leaves a wet trail around it before passing over to the second to repeat the treatment. Your head turns to the side sharply when the head of his cock splits you open even further than you could previously imagine, hitting a hidden crevice that leaves you without breath.

He gauges your reaction, the colour of your eyes blurring, phasing between the natural milky white canvases and the hue of your disguise, your canines and incisors now elongated, all because of the pleasure that pools at the junction where your bodies meet. But for a moment, you catch the glimmer of gold still wrapped around his hand, glimmering metal gnawing and rubbing across his skin, you’re torn between your euphoria and clouded curiosity.

“Say it again,” he grunts with a hard thrust that makes his muscles ripple insanely beneath his skin.

“C’mon, say it for your captain, Love.”

Your lips and tongue drag across the flesh of his wrist, the pulse of his racing heart beats through, you can almost taste the rhythm. His sweat tastes strong with his musk, a strong flavour of the salty sea, sandy beaches and gunpowder.

You moan softly, almost in a whisper, “Captain… C-Captain Barnes.”

The effect you have on him is indescribable to him. Never has he been able to put it into words, all he can do is feel it; carnally. The repetitive pounding into that deeper and sweeter spot has your back arching up, the smooth layer of your sweat covered body rubs against his, able to feel each defining muscle, he uses his metal hand to grip hold of one of your thighs, angling you so that you’re spread further apart for him. Your eyes begin to fall heavy and roll back into your skull in your drunken haze, the shimmer of scarlet presently blooms from time to time in them.

“That’s right. You belong to me, little Siren. It’s my cock that has you dripping wet.” His thrusts become faster, losing the precise edge he had before, his climax inevitably as close as your own. Your nails embed crescent moons into the skin of his one hand while the other bites into his shoulder.

“I’m the only man— fuck! The only man who gets to have you like this. Shit… shit. ’M going to fill you up.”

“Please, please… Cap—”

“Aye, I’m going to fill you up, have you nice ‘nd full until my cum is leaking out of your little cunt, Siren. Fuck… you want that, don’t you? I know you do.”

You gasp with each attempt to breathe, each push and pull of his cock strikes you like a match to light the powder keg, the explosion of your climaxes comes as a white hot flash in your vision, momentarily blinding you. Your hot walls squeeze around his large endowment, forcing him to thrust back and forth even harder, grunting hot breaths against the shell of your ear.

His seed is flushed into the channel of your pussy in thick, seething spurts that paint your walls that milk him for every precious drop.

What he gives makes your lower abdomen weigh a little heavier, a little bit fuller than you were before. His hips grow slower with each dissipating explosion from his tip. His large chest expands hugely with every intake of air to his lungs before deflating as a pleased groan.

In his reverie of contentment, having had his fill of his prize - for now - he withdraws his softening cock from your pussy, a moistened pop echoes in the emptiness of your thoughts. Bucky rolls off of you to lay at your side, atop the furs and silken drapes of the bed. Before you can make a move he uses his metal arm to drag you in closer, tucking you into his side, the coldness of his fingers skimming the delicate texture of your arm.

The soothing rock of the ship is enough to lull you to sleep, the lids of your eyes inching closer and closer together.

“Still deny that you found nothing?”

His question only brings your brows to knit together. You shake your head and huddle closer into his side, basking in the comforting warmth of his body. Why on earth would he ask you such a silly question? As if there was anything of importance that outranked him, by being at his side.

The answer you give is instant in its resolve, “I don’t understand, Captain. I needn’t find anything out there… I have you.”

Your answer, though unable to see it from your position, pleases him and his lips curl into a toothy smirk, long sweeps of his dark brown hair tousled about in his post sex state. You lay your head against his chest to hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat, eyes closing to seek rest and refuge in the arms of your beloved captain. The man that grants you safety, that promises you nights of passion followed by the comfort of his body next to yours. All he asks in return is your loyalty. Your devotion.

For you to be his siren.

Behind the blurry curtain of sleep layered over your eyes, you awaken and by your estimation, only for around an hour or maybe a little more. The morn still hasn’t risen over the ocean’s horizon, the moonlight shimmering and shining over the waves. The candlelight that bathed the cabin with a sensual atmosphere had now burnt out.

Breaths of deepened sleep sound next to you, the chiselled sculpt of his chest you’d used as a pillow takes steady form, as he sleeps. It makes you wonder as to what he dreams about, sometimes a scowl is etched into his attractive visage and he becomes restless, leaving you to somehow comfort him. And other times, mostly after he’s spent drawing orgasm after orgasm from the two of you, he finds respite.

You take the time to thoroughly yet delicately rub your eyes, robbing the tiredness of its hold to take you once more. With a tilt of your head, hair coming over your shoulder to graze the top of your breasts, his other hand lay out over the bed, residing just over the edge.

The mysterious object that somehow you know is linked with you, but as to how or why, or its significance to you in any case, is still laced around his calloused palm. Despite its odd gleam of familiarity, you believe this is the first time you’ve seen it before, however, the tiny voice in the back of your mind says otherwise. Then you must have seen something like it before somewhere.

Something deep in the recess of your heart, you have to know. Is this somehow linked to the estranged longing to a home you can’t remember? Does this necklace bind you to the lost melody of times erased from your memory?

You take caution in moving carefully, inching your way to lean over the sleeping form of your captain, skin brushing skin, you slowly rotate your hips and hoist a thigh over his waist. Heated crimson flushes into your cheeks as you analyse your newfound position, but also from the way his body stirs lightly, still enraptured by sleep yet his body adjusting to your core lining over his naval.

Thawed from your frozen idle of panic, you take a moment to calm the racing of your heart that hammers vigorously against your chest, your nimble fingers reach out towards his flesh hand that clings protectively to the mysterious necklace.

This almost feels… too easy. You swallow a silent gulp, fingers grazing against his palm when his body shifts, bumping up into yours, you pull your reach back so fast, your hand slaps against his ribs, doing your best to cover up your true intentions. His stills beneath you once more and your shoulders fall lax with a sigh of relief.

Again you dare another attempt to grab the necklace, this time you don’t risk breathing, holding it for what seems like forever until your lungs begin to swell with an ache that makes them feel like bubbles about to burst.

You work the chain until it's loosened and finally allow your held breath to escape you, the strain to remain silent proving far more difficult than you would have liked. The weight of your body shifts backwards, now sitting up, you allow your eyes to take in every detail of the object in your hands. The gold chain is light, ghostly as it graces your hands, your fingers lace and loop it around amidst the process of your conjuring thoughts.

Like a puppeteer pulling the strings you raise the necklace up by its precious thread. The pearl encaged by its makeshift net swings from side to side, as though even when you are completely still, it has a soul of its own accord.

Everything you knew about pearls is forfeit, the identity of this one brings the bevel between your brows to form in thoughtful wonder. Therein lies the piece of some puzzle, the missing notes to the melody to which you only recall the faint rhythm of the song.

It has to mean something of greater importance. But if it did, then why is your captain so adamant to dismiss your curious nature to find the answers?

As if the pearl itself is the key, you hear within your heart and soul the song. Voices sing a tone that is calming to your senses, a sweet and endearing lullaby meant for you to hear whenever you find yourself in the loneliest of places, in the darkest reaches of the ocean, the connection will bring you somewhere you call home.

But your home is The Avenger. Aboard the ship with Captain Barnes. The man known as Bucky to his closest inner circle. So why do the voices mingling with the tide call you away from all that? With each passing second you become ensnared by the spell of the pearl, the voices of whom you somehow find solace in become louder, the softened chorus of their song echoes a hundred times over in your head.

Before you even give pause to reason, your own voice becomes paired with the orchestra of sirens. You have no words, and maybe you never did, all you did need is the pearl to help guide you in remembering the melody. The uncertainty of your humming eases, the unforeseen instructors aiding you, your voice is soft within its deep reverie when it all comes to an abrupt pause, a gasp severing the tune.

He has you by the wrist, fingers bruisingly tight and giving you no choice to pull away from him, as he often did whenever he saw you retreat from him without his say so.

Bucky’s eyes bear into yours, penetrating the barrier of the necklace, he stares you down the way a wolf does the lonely prey in its path. His eyes match the brooding darkness of a storm at sea, a breed of villainy that threatens those who dare to try him.

“Captain…” Your throat bobs with a nervous swallow. “I– I wasn’t—”

Out of pure instinct to not tempt his fury, your hold on the necklace ceases and it gathers in the roughened pad of his palm, large thumb that has caressed your sensitive nub plenty of times now works against the spherical shape of the pearl, brows heavy in their judgement to assess your punishment. His movement is sudden upon the brink of your awareness, a sharp gasp that cuts into the tender muscle of your chest as he plants you flat on your back, hands both of flesh and metal pin your wrists on either side of you until the bruising ache becomes far too unbearable. But you do nothing to voice the level of your pain. He would not hear of it. His newly erected shaft ghosts over your entrance, the beginnings of your slick painting his already drooling tip. “I’m beginning to think you like breaking my rules, Siren.”

THANKS FOR READING!

✎ a note from the author, Yes. Yes... YAAAAS! IM DOING IT! I'm frickin' writing a pirate Bucky! Mmmm! Fuckin' love pirate stuff, I'm just living for Bucky being a hot pirate commanding a vessel on the high seas.

on this issue's taglist, we've got: @identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic

#female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #pirate au #pirate bucky #siren reader #bucky smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader

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iamthatonefangirl · 2 months ago

Text

toxic - nsfw fatws bucky barnes

guys i was watching this super banger edit and lowkey had an idea but then i got sidetracked and decided to make it toxic

disclaimer: dark themes. suicidal and homicidal ideation. toxic, obsessive thoughts i guess? read at your own discretion.

~~~

everything about him was so entrancing. he was dangerous. he was intimidating, off-putting...

but god, how you craved him. the touch of his skin on yours made you feel more drunk than you'd ever been. the smell of his hair, the sound of his voice, the sight of his face all made you feel insanely high off of him.

you would never say no to him.

you clung to him, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, hair sticking to the back of your neck.

you'd let him do whatever he wanted to you.

you leaned into him, the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your neck, holding you in place on top of him. you could breathe fine, but you could never escape how lightheaded you got whenever you were with him.

your hands wrapped around his biceps. strong, you thought through the haze your brain was wrapped in. your hand shifted without thinking, moving to rest atop his own that settled over your pulse points.

you couldn't help but think if he began to squeeze, if the air left your lungs, if the light faded from your eyes...

you'd be happy it was him. you'd look into his beautiful eyes and be grateful for it.

you almost wished he would. the thought pushes another moan past your lips.

"is that good, pretty girl?" he breathes, voice rough.

you can't respond. you're too focused on him. the feeling of him in front of you, under you, fucking up into you so good you feel dizzy...

it's everything. and it doesn't even hold a candle to how good you feel knowing that it's him.

it's him putting his hands on you. it's him whispering into your ear. it's him giving you everything you ever could have wanted.

he's so beautiful, so perfect. he could do no wrong in your eyes.

you could watch him–him, not the soldier–deliberately slit the throat of an innocent man and you'd still see him as the most sacred person to walk the earth.

"baby?" he asks again.

you're so blissed out, you don't even sense the question in his tone. you want to live here forever, in this moment. feeling so good. all because of him.

the thought of this ever ending makes you want to end you.

the thought of him getting up and walking away from you makes you want to end him.

he was yours.

"mine," you breathe, barely intelligible, but enough for him to understand.

he groans.

you seemingly come back to yourself for a moment. you grind down into him, meeting his slow, controlled movements.

"mine," you growl.

you chant the word over and over like it's the only word you know. he's all mine, mine, mine...

"yeah, baby, all yours..." he assures you.

you'd castrate him if he ever touched another.

you'd put a gun in your mouth if he ever threatened to leave you.

he was all yours.

and if that were to change, you'd both be six feet under.

~~~

masterlist

tag list

#fem reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier x reader #dark reader #unhealthy obsession #toxic love #angst #smut #winter soldier smut #winter soldier #the winter soldier #iamthatonefangirl

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bucksangel · 9 months ago

Note

Okay but imagine bunny has just been feeling so ill :((( and she’s so so sorry Bucky has to take care of her like this :( but she still tries to make him meals and keep up with her chores and be good for him :( even though he’s adamant that she not lift a finger until she’s better

Maybe he comes home one day and she’s crying and she’s apologizing because she knows he’s so stressed already with work and she’s just so so sorry for adding to that :(

And he’s just like “what are you talking about? why are you sorry”

And then she just hands him a positive pregnancy test and keeps apologizing for giving him one more thing to worry about

But he’s just immediately thrilled and is already thinking about how to decorate the nursery and he can’t wait to fuck the tears away while calling her his little mama

Anyway… I’ll see myself out… splendid writing as always my dear!!! <3

I’m literally laying on my stomach with my legs in the air and i’m kicking them and giggling, you’re so kind. And i looooove this idea so here’s a lil drabble :) (also you are always welcome to come back😭😭)

Title: An Odd Flu

pairing: sofdark!ceo!bucky x naive!assistant!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: 18+ so minors dni, mentions of vomiting and being sick, so much fluff, minor angst, hints of abortion though it’s not said outright (only 2-3 sentences), soft love-making, sir kink, petnames (bunny, mama (but not in a mommy kink way)), fingering, dom!bucky, sub!reader, aftercare

main masterlist | run little bunny masterlist

Originally, you thought it was an odd case of the flu. You weren’t running a fever and you weren’t feeling overheated or freezing cold, but you were so tired all the time that you’d have to take a midday nap in order to stay awake long enough to have dinner with James. Then it was the vomiting, you’d wake up around seven in the morning and rush to the bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach.

What made things better was that James had been there for you, waiting on you hand and foot whenever he was home. He’d draw you baths and massage your back to relieve your sore muscles. He’d make you soup and tea, going so far as to feed you by hand. He would even cancel meetings if you were feeling especially awful.

But that’s where the problem lies. Leading up to your flu James had been stressed. There was meeting after meeting, paperwork the height of the Empire State Building, and calls coming in after the previous one ended. You already felt physically bad, but the fact that he’s become stretched even thinner has you feeling bad emotionally.

This morning in particular has been the worst of the last three weeks. You gagged when you went downstairs and smelt the eggs James was cooking and had to rush to the bathroom. Your headache felt more like a migraine and all you really want to do is curl up next to James in bed and have him rub your back.

But that’s not possible today. James had a meeting that he had been trying to organize for the past month and it was with people outside of the U.S., so there was no way he could miss it. He still offered to stay home anyway and let his right-hand man, Steve, take over, but you nearly cried when he suggested it. You didn’t want to mess anything up just because you were sick. So, at your insistence, he left with a kiss on your forehead and made you promise to call him if anything got worse.

The only stipulation was that you had to see a doctor while he was gone. His personal doctor, because of course he’s rich enough to have a personal doctor, agreed to come over and check you out.

It was when she got there that things started to feel… off. She noted your symptoms with a glint in her eye that told you she immediately knew what was going on. When she put away her tools, she reached into a different pocket in her bag, giving it to you with a small, knowing smile.

It was a pregnancy test. And suddenly you’re questioning everything. The morning sickness, the aversion to foods you once craved, the crying spells.

Then, you remember your period was supposed to start two days ago. When it didn’t come you just assumed it was because you were ill. Now, though, things are making sense.

That doesn’t stop the insecurities from creeping in. James has been so busy with work lately and this is just one more stressor to add to that. And on top of that, you haven’t been able to do as much cleaning or cooking as you normally do, as much as you want to do. James has been insistent that you not overexert yourself by doing your daily tasks, but you feel so bad that he has to come home from a long day of work to the house being a mess.

When you go to the bathroom, your hands are shaking as you hold the test in the proper position. You’ve always wanted kids, and you can’t imagine having babies with anyone else except James. He always takes care of you, is always lovely and patient even when he’s exhausted and snapping at everyone else, he’s the perfect man and would make a perfect father.

Your hands continue to shake as you wash them, and your whole body vibrates with nerves as you walk back out into the living room to see Doctor Romanoff packing the rest of her things. Her eyes are sympathetic when she senses your anxiety, and she carefully takes the test from you.

The five-minute wait is agonizing, you’re unable to sit still so you’ve been pacing back and forth around the living room awaiting the results. And when the timer goes off, your whole body goes rigid. Your back is to Doctor Romanoff when you hear her hum thoughtfully.

You know what that sound means.

It takes all your effort to turn around, but when you do you find her arm outstretched, offering you the test.

“I’m not sure if it’s the answer you want, but I’m here for whatever you need.”

Hesitantly, you reach out to take the test from her. And, with a big breath, you look down to see the little pink plus sign staring back at you, and tears immediately fill your eyes. You know that James wants kids, he’s very bad at dropping hints when you go to the store and pass by the baby aisle. But, he’s overworked right now, constantly answering calls and responding to emails, and you’re doubting if now is the right time to have a baby.

“Um, th-thank you,” You say weakly, looking up at her with a wavering smile. She nods, and you lead her to the front door and wave her goodbye.

The tears start falling when the door closes behind her, and you quickly rush to your room. You’re staring at the test through your clouded vision, worrying yourself over how to tell him. You know you need to, you want to. So, once you’ve calmed down you pull out your laptop and search for different ideas.

“Bunny, I’m home!” James sounds tired, exhausted really, though you hope the smell of chicken and vegetables will help him wake up a little.

“I’m in the kitchen!” Your hands are shaking so badly when you take the pan out of the oven, and you have to hurry to place it on the counter before you drop it. Suddenly, James’ arms wrap around your waist, pressing his chest to your back and tucking his face into your neck to breathe in your perfume.

“What did I say about overexerting yourself?” His voice is soft, even though he’s clearly tired you know he’s about to march you upstairs and tuck you into bed. “You need your rest.”

“Well, I feel bad for not cleaning as much as I used to, and you’ve been so tired lately.” You pause, taking a large breath and turning in his arms so you can loop your arms around his neck. Your eyes start to water when you see his eyebrows furrow with concern. “Besides, it’s not going to go away any time soon. Google says that morning sickness can last up to 20 weeks and your doctor says I’m only five weeks along.”

James opens his mouth to say something, then promptly closes it when he registers your words. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his hold on you slightly loosening as he flounders for a minute. You can see in his eyes that he’s trying to piece together all of your symptoms from the last few weeks, and he’s a smart man, so it’s not a surprise that he figures it out pretty quickly.

“Are… Are you…?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Time seems to stand still, James seems to have frozen in place trying to sink in your words. And the longer the silence goes on the more worried you become, and a few tears slide down your cheeks.

“I-I know this isn’t the ideal time, and you’re extremely busy with work, but it just happened. I’m so sorry, I know this is just going to make you even more stressed, and I-I don’t know what you want to do, but –” You’re cut off by James pressing his lips to yours, his arms tightening around your body and pulling you into his chest.

The kiss is frantic, desperate, excited. And when James pulls back you can’t help but follow his lips with yours, trying to keep the kiss going. But James doesn’t give in, instead, he leans back enough to be able to look into your eyes. And his are glassy, filled with unshed tears as he brings up one hand to brush away yours with his thumb.

“Fuck, bunny. Don’t be sorry, never be sorry for this. Bunny, you’re – you’re giving me everything I’ve wanted since I first saw you.”

Loosening his arms around your waist, he drops to his knees, placing one hand on your hip and covering your stomach with the other. He stares at your belly with amazement, then pushes up your shirt so he can kiss your belly. Your hands immediately find their way into his hair, rubbing his scalp and running your fingers through it. After a couple of minutes, he finally moves back to look up at you.

“You’re really pregnant?” He smiles wide when you nod, more tears involuntarily sliding down your cheeks.

“I’m really pregnant.” Your voice wavers, but you’re finally at ease, no longer worried about how James would react.

“Fuck, bunny,” He whispers, slowly rising to his feet and grabbing your hips. He leans down, brushing his lips over yours and smiling a little when you whine. “You’re going to be such a pretty mama.”

James is unable to stop himself from lifting you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. You bury your face in his neck, kissing and nibbling on his skin until he gets to your room and lays you gently on the bed.

He doesn’t immediately climb onto the bed, he just stands at the end of the bed and stares at you with a mixture of love and lust. A few moments of silence goes by before you finally whine, wiggling your hips to hopefully entice him.

It works. James shrugs off his jacket and unbuttons his shirt, smirking at you the whole time because your eyes are roaming over his bare chest, and you’re practically drooling when he gets to his pants.

“See something you like?” He chuckles when you glare at him.

“You know I do, so please hurry up. I want you inside me.” While you were teasing, you know you’ve made a mistake when his smile drops and one of his eyebrows raises.

“Where are those manners, bunny? Just because I knocked you up doesn’t mean I’m not still your Sir.”

“I’m sorry, sir! I-I didn’t mean to - I just -“ You stumble over your words, not worried about him punishing you physically, but you know he’s not above edging you for hours on end, and you’re sure you’ll actually cry if that happens.

“I know, bunny,” James coos, finally stepping out of his pants and boxers and kicking them to the side. Before you can say anything he grabs you by your ankles, then tugs you down the bed until your legs are dangling off the edge. “It’s okay, you’re still my good little bunny.”

You moan at his words, a pleasant fuzziness clouding your head. And then James helps you sit up a little so he can unzip your dress — his favorite floral one — and slide the straps down your arms. When he lays you back down he pulls the dress down and off your body, groaning when he sees your bare body, just as he likes it. One of his rules about living with him is that you’re not to wear panties or a bra, you have to always be ready for him.

You and James have never been more grateful for it.

“Fuck, bunny,” James groans and takes hold of his achingly hard cock, squeezing the base. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Going to make such a beautiful mama.”

“Sir, please.” Your eyes water, this time from frustration. You need him inside you immediately.

“Okay, bunny, okay, don’t worry your pretty little head.” James climbs onto the bed and arranges your bodies so he’s sitting against the headboard and you’re sitting on his lap, your back to his chest and your pussy resting over his throbbing dick.

It takes everything in you not to roll your hips against his, the only reason you don’t is because you want to be good for him. He seems to recognize this and lovingly kisses your cheek, humming softly.

“My good girl, my perfect girl,” James mumbles into your ear, placing his hands on the inside of your thighs and spreading them wide open, hooking your ankles around his calves. He drags one hand up to rest lightly on your stomach, his other stroking your thigh, climbing higher and higher until you’re practically vibrating with need.

“Sir.” You’re already sounding pathetic, but, to be fair, James has that effect on you. With only a few touches he can render you dumb, but you love it.

“What do you need, bunny?” James asks as though he doesn’t already know what you need. What you crave.

“You, sir. Always you.” Tears spring to your eyes, damn your hormones.

James sighs behind you, trailing his lips to your cheek, down to your jaw, and then your neck.

“You have me, pretty mama. You always have me. I’m yours as much as you are mine.” His words make you sniffle, a few tears sliding down your cheeks.

You’re so lucky.

“Come here, bunny.” James urges you off his lap, maneuvering your bodies so you’re laying down and he’s hovering over you. He leans on one elbow and reaches up with his other hand to wipe away a few tears, smiling softly when you nuzzle his palm.

“Are you going to let me love on you, pretty mama?”

“Y-Yes, please. Please!” You’re slipping even further into that soft space where nothing else matters except for James, except for Sir.

James leans down, brushing his lips against yours and chuckling when you whine. The moment he finally kisses you he slides his hand down your neck to your breasts, lighting tugging at one of your nipples before sliding down further until he can spread your legs. He only pulls back when his hand makes it to the inside of one of your thighs, cooing when you whimper.

“It’s okay, bunny. I’m going to give you everything you need.” He’s slow and careful when he inches closer to your soaking pussy, running his thumb along your lips and dipping in to gently rub your clit.

He teases you for a long while, staring into your eyes when he dips two fingers in your hole easily due to how wet you are. He’s slow and methodical as he slips in another finger, kissing your cheeks every so often to catch stray tears. When he finally decides you’ve had enough teasing he starts thrusting his fingers faster, crooking them upwards to hit your special spot.

It doesn’t take long at all for you to cum, both because of James’ expert fingering and because of his husky voice whispering praises in your ear. And it’s an intense orgasm, your body going so far as to squirt liquid all over his hand.

It does take a bit for you to come down from your high, your mind is too clouded and fuzzy from pleasure. But when you do come to your senses you’re in the bathtub, your back to his chest as you soak in the warm water. James’ hands are on your stomach, rubbing over it as though it holds a priceless gem.

And, to be fair, there is. The little baby growing inside you is going to be the most loved child in the world.

“James?” Your voice is soft, not wanting to disturb the peace.

“Yes, bunny?” He kisses your neck, and you lean against him further.

“What, um—“ You wiggle a little, feeling his now only semi-hard cock against your lower back. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” James hums, suckling at your skin. “Tonight is about you, pretty mama.”

You’ll never understand how it’s possible to love someone as much as you love James, let alone be loved by such a perfect man, but you won’t question it.

tagging: @hisredheadedgoddess28

#let me know what yall think!#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #dark!bucky barnes #softdark!bucky #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #ceo!bucky barnes #ceo!bucky #dark!bucky #my writing #my stuff

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 months ago

Text

Pet Soldier | 1

Summary: Bucky's past catches up to him, unlocking painful memories of his time as the winter soldier. The only thing that could make it worse was having to be on a team with a captured HYDRA soldier he wants to see dead. But her healing power is simply too invaluable to let go.

THIS IS A DARK FIC!

Warnings for the Series: 18+ only. Heavy Angst (eventual hurt comfort). Violence. Mentions and depictions of Non-Con and Dub-Con. Psychological Trauma. Not Canon Compliant. Manipulation. Hydra.

Important Warnings for this Part: Non-Con.

Pairing: eventual Stucky x reader, Stucky x hydra!reader

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: the title is pending. I had a strong desire to write for Marvel and specifically Bucky again. Idek dude. But enjoy!

A/N 2: I don't really know if anything about reader's race will be brought up but I like to always note that at the beginning because black readers deserve stories too so if hair or culture does start to get brought up, it doesn't just come out of nowhere.

Series Masterlist

Despite all the fronts he put up, deep down Bucky is grateful. Grateful that Steve doesn’t ever give up on him, that Sam took a leap of faith to help save him, that Tony had a change of heart, that the UN agreed to work with SHIELD instead of forcing SHIELD under them, and for a host of other things that would take him too long to name. He is grateful for his freedom back, a chance at normalcy.

Of course, it isn’t without conditions. He has to be an Avenger. He had to go through deprogramming in Wakanda to at least eliminate his triggers — the Winter Soldier still makes spontaneous appearances albeit less deadly and usually from nightmares. And he has to help them with cases on HYDRA to the best of his abilities. Bucky considers those conditions to be easy. At least until the morning the team find themselves on the quinjet and heading back to Siberia.

Zemo’s Sokovian cover story had been almost airtight but he slipped up eventually. He knew too much about HYDRA operations. It became hard for anyone to believe he acquired all the knowledge through research alone. Not that it mattered, whether he was HYDRA or not he had to be found. Only, now Bucky was added to the team in charge of finding their man just in case he was a part of that damned organization.

“You good?” A voice shakes Bucky from his thoughts.

Sam sits down next to him, having finally been released from pilot duty while Clint takes over. The man next to him nods stiffly. It had been a long time since Bucky was in Siberia. The last of his Winter Soldier years had found him at the base in D.C. while he was used to take out SHIELD. He had occasionally flown back to Siberia every now and then. It was technically his home while at HYDRA. But still, it had been months.

“The last time I was here… They said they were bringing something to D.C. for me.”

“You’re worried it’s still at this facility?”

“I’m worried whatever it is might kill us or what use Zemo might have made of it.”

The entire quinjet falls silent at his confession. It had already been decided that with the information he gave them about other winter soldiers, Bucky would be leading the mission. He knows the base, tries to prepare them all.

But steeling their nerves to fight unstable super soldiers is one thing. Trying to anticipate all the random death traps in a hopefully relatively abandoned facility — including something specifically for Bucky — is another thing entirely.

With precision, the team seamlessly moves through the base. Steve is the first to pause when he sees it. The chambers holding the other winter soldiers are full like Bucky said. But each and every one of them simply stays in place despite the open doors of their cryo units. They watch the Avengers’ every movement. Only their eyes ever move. On the back wall of the room sits Zemo in a safe bunker.

“If it’s any consolation, they will die quickly after this. A single bullet each. Self-inflicted. They’ve already been commanded to do so,” Zemo mutters.

“Why are you doing this?” Steve’s questioning is firm.

Part of him wants to know, the other part is just buying time for the others to assess how to get Zemo out of the containment unit. SHIELD wants the man alive. The Avengers feel obligated to try and deliver.

“Because I never cared for the enhanced. Reckless, unstable, none of them righteous. No one should have ever continued after Captain Rogers. I thought the lot of them were corrupt. Although, I have found one who I may have a different opinion of yet. Soldiers, attack.”

Despite the fact that he was no longer triggered by the words, a darkness flashed over Bucky as he watched the chamber closest to Zemo finally open. It had been the first thing he noticed when they originally entered the room. How the chamber door was closed despite all the other ones being open. He braced himself for whatever beast was going to come through.

The team hadn’t seen Barnes in a rampage like this since his deprogramming. Even a nightmare fueled Winter Soldier was not as bad as what they witnessed right now. He didn’t hold back any punches, only using his metal arm. Despite the plethora of weapons on his body, Bucky didn’t use a single one. It was like he wanted the soldier underneath him to feel every ounce of anger in his fight. Like he wanted her to suffer.

Bucky didn’t register the shouts of his name. The only sound to reach his ears was the sick crunch of your nose under his fist. It took Steve, Tony, and Thor to pull him off of you. Bucky only relented after realizing all the other winter soldiers were dead. You were the only one that could be convinced to surrender and there was a use to you being alive. They could finally have another source on HYDRA besides just him.

✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭

There were no bars around your cell. That was the first thing you noticed about your new prison. Avengers Tower, you were sure one of the people said as they threw you into this so called interrogation room. You had immediately noted that there were no bars anywhere around your cell. Simply glass that you suspected was a two-way mirror around the whole perimeter of the room.

On the other side of the glass, Bucky just glared at your seated form. They were interrogating Zemo in the other room and he didn’t care one bit. You were here. Reluctantly, Bucky pulled himself away from watching your figure when Everett Ross called his name.

The last thing he wanted to do was sit through a meeting where he had to explain that he was fully in control of his actions as James Barnes and not the winter soldier in Siberia. Unfortunately, Bucky didn’t get his way. He was given all of one minute to settle himself before they started demanding answers.

“Y/N L/N. She’s not a winter soldier,” Bucky stated numbly.

Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. “Barnes, are you telling me that you as you and not that freaky soldier thing harmed a civilian?

“She was my primary handler.”

Everyone’s mouths dropped open in shock. The only thing Bucky could muster was a dry laugh.

“You picked the right one to save. She was there for all of it. Almost every torturous minute I spent in their clutches was thanks to her. If anyone knows anything about all of HYDRA’s sick plans then it would be her. Karpov’s right hand. Pierce’s left. The worst handler I’ve ever had.”

“Was she there since you were taken?”

For once, Natasha was hesitant to ask about his past. Bucky had gotten used to the jokes. He actually sort of liked them. It made him feel like a normal member of the team. But from the way he almost killed you earlier and this sudden confession, it left Nat concerned for her friend.

Bucky shook his head. “Around the seventies, I think. Maybe a bit earlier or later. I don’t quite remember but she wasn’t there in the beginning.”

“She looks a bit young then.”

“She insisted on going into cryo every time I was put back under.”

Ross’ eyes nearly bulged out his head. “I’m sorry, she willingly went into cryo? Barnes, if you don’t want to be here anymore then you don’t have to. But L/N might be the most valuable prisoner we’ve gotten from these missions. We can’t let you kill her yet and we can’t risk her escape without us at least having a chance to get her back. She’s staying at the tower for now. Just until her and Zemo are of no use anymore.”

“As long as I’m not one of her guard dogs.”

“Never,” Steve answered without hesitation.

As if it pained him, Bucky stood from the table and walked back to the residents’ area of the tower. He’d watch your interrogation another day. But right now, he needed a lot of space. He didn’t want to even hear about what you discussed, telling the team such when he only asked about Zemo. It was a boundary they tried to respect. Unfortunately, the line had to be crossed a few weeks later. Fury stood in front of the Avengers trying to enjoy their breakfast.

“She refuses to talk. Zemo is willing to provide the location of HYDRA documents stored at the Siberian base and we have agents going there now. But he will only let them know if Bucky agrees to view the evidence with everyone else. It’s a fairly obvious ploy to ruin your recovery process but, for once, we don’t have the upper hand. He knows that and he knows he doesn’t have to be subtle.”

“Fine,” Bucky said with a sharp voice.

“I have to say, he already gave us one very important document as a sign of trust so to speak.”

“And?” Steve asked.

“The room she stayed in was a nice one for the higher ups. Dr. Myers believes it would be best to either gain her trust or make her think she has the upper hand.”

Everyone noticed how Bucky tensed up at the mention of his therapist’s name. You couldn’t give him anything sacred to just himself. You had to take everything from him. Dr. Myers had been the best therapist he’s gotten so far. The first to truly help Bucky find coping methods that were healthy but also effective for him. He tried to take deep, slow breaths.

“What does that entail?”

“That she be allowed in the residence area. I’ve already agreed.”

“Nick!” the entire team screamed at once.

“We need whatever information she can give. We’re talking a potential end to HYDRA. I’ll put her far away from Barnes if needed. Almost everything can be restricted from her at first. She’ll have an ankle monitor or whatever tracking device you want on her. Hell, you can even give her a schedule so she never crosses Bucky’s path. But we need this inform—”

“I want her room between Sam and ours.” Bucky looked over at his boyfriend, watching for a change in Steve’s face. “If that’s okay with you?”

“Forget what I want. Are you okay to have her that close, Buck?”

He nodded. “I’d feel better if I’m aware of her at every moment if she’s going to be up here.”

“Thank you, Barnes,” Nick said with a nod. “Seriously.”

“Just get what you need from her and then get her as far from my home as possible.”

“It won’t be a few simple days.”

“I’ve spent decades with that monster. As long as this takes less than that, I don’t care. Get what you need and then I want her to pay for what she’s done to me.”

✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭

You stared down as Tony fitted an ankle monitor on you. Everyone decided that now was the best time to let you move into the resident area. They’d be reviewing the Zemo documents retrieved by intel while you had a chance to get used to your new space. While the team understood it needed to be done, they weren’t happy about the changes to their space.

Anything dangerous had locks that could only be opened through fingerprints or FRIDAY’s voice commands so you couldn’t have access. They now had to wait for the elevator’s facial recognition to light up all the buttons for them because you only had access to about four floors in total at the moment. And cameras were everywhere that you were allowed to be. Small inconveniences for the information they were about to uncover but annoyances nonetheless.

You listened intently as Tony explained the new rules to you. He expected a sneer or rude response but you still said nothing. You simply left your cell and finally tested the elevator. The first button you pressed took you straight to the living room. The place was nice. Although, with a billionaire footing the bill, you expected such. The kitchen was nice and big. Better than any of your previous apartments at HYDRA.

You’d enjoy cooking there, already making plans for a nice dinner. You didn’t even care that you could only open about half the drawers. You were basically told that you could get food whenever you wanted, sleep for as long or as little as you wanted, and take all the hot showers in the world. The least amount of work you’ve ever had to do in your life and the only caveats were strangers for roommates and eventually having to drip feed information. A trade you could reason with for now.

In one of the meeting rooms downstairs, the Avengers and important players in SHIELD passed out cups of coffee while FRIDAY sorted through the videos they recovered thanks to Zemo. The AI was attempting to put them in chronological order and focus on just you and Bucky’s moments. They expected it to be a long day and a meeting that might have to take place over several.

Zemo, handcuffed to the table, thanked Sharon for the cup of tea. Her face of disgust didn’t deter him one bit. Not when he was about to revel in the potential destruction of the winter soldier. He had seen every soldier’s tapes. He knew all of their handlers, their weaknesses, their documented missions. And Zemo knew that your interactions were some of the worst in his opinion. HYDRA had a talent for cruelty, he’d give them that.

Steve looked over at his boyfriend, grabbing Bucky’s metal hand after he clenched and unclenched it for the fifth time in a row. Everyone knew that the nightmares were only a fragment of his memory and for the most part he had blocked everything else out. It wasn’t exactly as comforting as Bucky thought to get those bits of him back.

“Whenever you’re ready, Buck.”

“Just play the damn tapes. You’ll probably need subtitles. There was always a lot of Russian, French, and German.”

“I will provide whatever subtitles may be needed, Sergeant,” FRIDAY responded before starting the first bit of footage:

Bucky was pushed back into the mind wiping machine. You sat in a very nice chair, just off to the side so the scientists could do their work. It was frightening how unmoved you were by his screams. You simply continued to read out loud, asking every now and then if Bucky knew who he was.

“Bucky Barnes,” he gritted out.

Your eyes casted downward as you flipped the page. You began reading again while the machine went for a fifth time. Sweat clung to Bucky’s skin as the machine slowly quieted down. You grabbed the bookmark from your lap and tucked it into the book, closing it before looking the man across from you in the eye.

“Who are you?”

“Sergeant Barnes.”

Karpov’s hand appeared on your shoulder. “That’s good enough for now. You may take him.”

Various bits of cctv footage popped up on the screen, showing you leading Bucky through all the hallways of the facility. He stiffly walked behind you. You walked with determination to the garage. Without a second thought, you slipped into the passenger seat of a car that looked like it came from the 40s. Bucky closed your door before getting into the driver’s seat. It wasn’t a long drive. And the cctv never stopped, not even when they reached your apartment.

“When you comply, you can stay with me, Sergeant.” You unlocked the door to a very nice apartment. “This is much nicer than your cell, isn’t it?”

Wanda swallowed uncomfortably as you took off the soldier’s boots and directed him to the dining room. “Was she always this nice?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “It was the game she liked to play. If I complied then she was kind. Even a simple mistake would earn her other side.”

“For once, I’ll make dinner,” you told him. “But you know I hate cooking, Sergeant. You’re lucky the day has been hard on you. Otherwise, we’d both be eating sandwiches.”

Dinner was a quiet affair. Without needing to be told, Bucky did the dishes while you enjoyed your evening in front of the television. It was a practiced routine, something expected of him.

✭✭

You scowled as you leaned against the guard rails of your apartment balcony. It was a different apartment than the last videos, on a lower floor but with a bigger porch. The heavy rain soaked through the dress you wore.

“It’s getting rusty.”

Bucky looked down at his metal arm.

“If I have to replace it, you will get another punishment.”

Bucky ran a finger over the plates and you just sighed.

“Let’s go inside and I’ll work on you instead of Karpov.”

That seemed to wake the soldier up. Like the guard dog he was trained to be, he opened the door for you and waited patiently for you to come inside. You weren’t the one to work on him despite your promise. The moment you reached the HYDRA base, Bucky was taken by guards and beaten before being returned to his cryo chamber. You continued past his cell until you reached Karpov’s office.

“May I have a few days off?”

Karpov chuckled. “The Asset is giving you trouble? I heard you put him back in cryo.”

“I’m tired from all the healing. I cannot wield my powers effectively with constant use. If he is truly hurt and I am weak then I cannot heal him. He can’t keep coming to me for every cut or scrape without some time off.”

“You’re right. We’ll grant you use of the chamber. You get a week. He is needed in Budapest in ten days.”

You nodded before returning to Bucky’s cell. A second cryo chamber sat next to his. The scientists gave you all the necessary pills and prep work needed before guiding you into the cryo chamber.

Fury sat up straighter. “She’s a mutant?”

“Best healer in HYDRA. I think that’s why she was assigned to me. If the serum took two days to patch me up, she could get it done in ten hours. I was more effective because of her, had more work and missions that I could go on.”

✭✭

Karpov stood in front of a board room, other HYDRA officials waiting eagerly for him to start.

“L/N is perfect for the Asset in all forms. He is more efficient. The rampages have severely diminished. He’s scared when he can’t see her or doesn’t know of her whereabouts. The constant waiting for the worst case scenario only to be brought to her with a book in hand resets his mind better than a mind wipe and a week in cryo. I believe under L/N’s hold, he will only need to be on ice as a matter of life extension.”

Smiles spread amongst the crowd.

✭✭

Bucky was allowed a hot shower. Although, with the vastness of the shower rooms, an occasional chill still swiped at his skin. But still, the shower was hot and he had the room to himself. His eyes fluttered open at the sound of heels clicking against the tile.

“If I want to admire you, soldier, I can,” you said as you leaned against one of the shower dividers.

The cctv cut back to the one focused intently on Bucky’s shower. He said nothing, going back to washing the shampoo out of his hair. He looked down when two hands wrapped around him, tracing up and down his abs.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Sarge.”

Your right hand drifted lower and lower with a gentle touch. Bucky stiffened up slightly when you wrapped your hand around his cock. He paid you no mind, continuing to stare at the shower wall. You began moving your hand up and down his length, face and body mostly concealed by his broad shoulders and back. Little grunts came from Bucky as you pumped him faster.

“Maybe they should send you on more of these hard missions so I can come see you. I didn’t know you were so well endowed. I shall make myself more acquainted with this endowment tonight. I think I’ll enjoy it.”

Bucky stood up abruptly, needing fresh air. Zemo be damned, he couldn’t relive it. Not memories like those. No one tried to stop him or Steve who followed him out.

“Are you alright?” Steve tentatively asked his boyfriend.

A soft grunt escaped his lips when Bucky didn’t say anything but merely crashed into his arms and silently begged for a hug. He and Steve stayed out in the hall until the first meeting ended. Pity wasn’t something Bucky handled well. Yet, every single person gave him a pitiful glance as they exited. Even Zemo couldn’t help but give him a look as he was escorted back to his cell.

You sat on the kitchen counter, legs crossed and sipping someone’s premade smoothie that you weren’t sure what the flavor was. But you were hungry and the potato soup you were making needed time on the stove to cook some more.

It was demeaning that you only had access to baby knives and your potatoes took way longer to cut than necessary but you were going to get that soup you wanted. In the meantime, the smoothie that read property of Bucky on the side of the cup would satisfy you.

The elevator dinged, alerting you of a new presence. One by one, the Avengers filed out, staring at the ankle monitor dangling on your ankle as you bobbed one leg up and down before meeting your eyes with a glare. All Natasha could see was red when you brought the straw back to your lips. They all could see the writing on the side of it. Yet, you still obnoxiously slurped up the drink that you’re sure had some raspberry in it.

Before she could be stopped, Natasha’s hand struck you clear across the face. The little bit of smoothie left hit the floor before you could grab it.

“Stay the fuck away from Barnes. Don’t you ever touch him again.”

You stopped focusing on her to stare at the one person you knew in the tower. Bucky’s glare was worse than whatever Nat or the rest of the team could muster up. The timer ringing shook you from your impromptu staring contest. Without a second thought, you pushed past Nat to fix the bowl of potato soup you were craving. The Avengers watched you prepare your food without a care in the world. Your back wasn’t even tense. It’s like they didn’t exist. You set the bowl on the kitchen island.

“If you’re going to hit me, please do it when I don’t have food in my hand. Those little baby knives add a lot of minutes to my prep time and I wouldn’t appreciate the effort being wasted. Otherwise, I will continue to steal what you’ve made like that smoothie.”

You nodded when Natasha actually did take you up on the offer, grimacing a bit as you felt some blood trickle down your face. Your nose wasn’t broken despite the sound it made when Bucky had hit it, but it was still fairly bruised and a single slap had it hurting again. Carefully, you wiped away the blood with the back of your hand before grabbing your soup.

“Sergeant Barnes, you have a new arm. The other one suited you better,” you said after lots of consideration. “They said I was on your floor. Lead the way.”

Steve pushed the other man behind him, getting dangerously close to your face as he did. “He isn’t your guard dog. You don’t make demands of him. I will be escorting you.”

“Carry on then.”

The rest of the team watched as you followed Steve. It was almost like you were unaware that you were a prisoner. You followed behind him in the same manner that they watched you lead Bucky through the halls of the HYDRA facility.

✭

part 2

[because of the nature of this being a dark fic and the fact that I haven't written for this fandom in so long, I won't automatically put my usual taglist. Let me know if you would like to be tagged in the future]

#mcu #marvel fic #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier angst #bucky barnes angst #dark fic #hydra!reader #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader

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deliciousangelfestival · 2 months ago

Text

Nothing Has Changed - 19

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Dark, Mystery, Betrayal.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

“Don’t you dare take the medicine they gave you!”

Your voice came out sharp, panic twisting every syllable. Your hands gripped the hospital bed's railing so tightly your knuckles turned white.

Ransom frowned. “What the fuck is going on? You’re freaking me out.”

“This will be the third time.”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening. “Ransom… My dad was diagnosed with cancer here by Dr. Stark. Almost a year of chemotherapy and medication. But I kept noticing something—cancer patients always seek second opinions. So I took him to see Alan.”

Ransom’s jaw clenched. He knew that name. Alan was a top-tier specialist, the kind people flew across the world to see.

You took a shaky breath and continued, “And my friend—misdiagnosed, too. The first doctor told him he wouldn’t be able to use his hand for six months. Then the second doctor checked and said it was bullshit—his injury wasn’t even that severe.”

Ransom’s stomach twisted. His back was already screaming in pain, but now a new fear crept in—was he even injured as badly as they claimed? Were they experimenting on him?

“That’s terrifying,” he muttered. His voice dropped lower. “I don’t want to fucking die because of this.”

You grabbed his wrist, your fingers pressing into his skin. “I’m afraid too. I don’t want you to become their test subject.”

Ransom exhaled sharply, then nodded. He squeezed your hand, his grip firm, steady. “Get me the fuck out of here.”

You didn’t hesitate. “I will.”

His gaze flickered with something unreadable before he added, “You should come with me.”

You shook your head. “I can’t.”

“Are you nuts?” His voice was sharper now, laced with frustration.

You exhaled. “Ransom, I have something to deal with.”

He was about to argue, but then you said it.

“The audit is incomplete. Needs an extra review.”

Ransom froze. His expression hardened. He wasn’t stupid—he knew exactly what that meant.

It was a code. A system you both had built working in finance, a way to alert each other when things got dangerous. Because let’s be real—most people with obscene amounts of money were crooked, and sometimes, that meant walking into situations that could get you killed.

This was Code One: "I’ve got an investigation going on. I’ll call you when I need help."

His jaw tightened, his blue eyes searching yours. “You sure?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

Without another word, you turned and made a call. Right now, you were grateful you’d left this town and built connections that could make things happen with a single request.

Exactly one hour later, the sound of whirring blades filled the sky. A medical helicopter descended onto the hospital’s landing pad.

Ransom smirked as he sat up, wincing at the pain but pushing through it. “I’m only one call away.”

You met his gaze, your lips pressing together. “I knew I could count on you.”

As the helicopter doors slid shut, you stepped back, watching as the aircraft lifted off the ground and disappeared into the sky.

“Why did he leave so suddenly? He still needs treatment,” Bucky’s voice came from behind you.

You didn’t turn around. “His mother sent the helicopter for him.”

“Oh.” There was a pause, then Bucky asked, “You’re not going with him?”

You finally turned, shaking your head. “I can’t.”

His eyes studied you carefully.

“I’ll be staying to continue the deal.”

A small, satisfied smirk curled at the corner of Bucky’s lips. “Good. I assure you, your bank won’t regret investing in this town. Especially with the new hospital—it’ll help a lot of people.”

“And your dad could come back and get treated here.”

You froze mid-step at the mention of your father. Your fingers curled slightly at your sides. “Yeah.”

Bucky hummed, watching you. “Are you heading home?”

“Yup.”

There was a pause. He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… so, actually—”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“I was planning a surprise.”

Your stomach dropped. “What did you do, Bucky?”

His smirk deepened. “Well… I decided to renovate your house.”

Your jaw nearly hit the floor. “What the fuck?!”

Bucky lifted his hands in defense. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. But don’t worry—it's all on me.”

“What gave you the right to renovate my home without my permission? Or my dad’s?”

He didn’t flinch, staying perfectly calm. “Did you forget your dad agreed to give me the funeral home when he retired?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Yeah? But he’s not retired yet.”

“I bought it.”

The words hit you like a punch. Your mouth went dry. “So all this time… my dad’s just been living there for free?”

Bucky exhaled, his expression unreadable. “It’s… yeah. And I have no problem with that. I would never force Tom or you to leave.”

You swallowed hard, heart pounding as you turned on your heel and headed toward your house.

He wasn’t joking.

The second you arrived, your stomach twisted. Construction workers were everywhere. The house had been completely renovated—even your room. Fresh paint, new furniture, everything different from what you remembered. It was like walking into someone else’s home.

You rubbed your temples. “Where the hell am I supposed to live now?”

Bucky stood beside you, unfazed. “You can stay at the hotel again.”

A deep sigh left your lips. “Fine.”

His smirk returned. “This one’s on me too. I’ll give you the best suite in the hotel.”

You shot him a pointed look. “You better.”

As you made your way downstairs, something caught your eye—a dusty old photo frame sitting on a table. You stepped closer, your breath hitching.

It was a picture of your mother.

The first time you’d ever seen one.

Other kids were in the photo, kids who were obviously older now. Your gaze traveled over their faces—there was a boy who looked like Bucky, which had to be Alex, then Tony, the mayor, and Mr. Rogers. And then, at the very back of the group, barely fitting into the frame, was your father.

Like an outcast.

Your mother, on the other hand, stood at the center like a queen, beautiful and radiant. It made you wonder—why did she choose your dad?

She could have had anyone.

“Don’t worry about Tony.” Bucky’s voice cut through your thoughts. He must have assumed you were staring at Tony in the photo. “I’ll make sure he gets what he deserves.”

You glanced at him, nodding. “Thanks.”

That night, your new hotel suite was undeniably luxurious. Soft sheets, the perfect temperature, the best accommodations money could buy.

And yet, you would have preferred your old home.

What made it worse?

Bucky leaned casually against the doorway and smirked. “If you need anything, just knock. My room’s right next door.”

Your stomach sank.

Shit.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

A sharp knock echoed through the room.

You sighed, glancing at the door. If it was Bucky, you’d pretend you didn’t hear it. But when you peeked through the spy hole, relief washed over you—it was Jake Jensen.

You quickly unlocked the door and pulled him inside before he could even finish saying, “Hi—”

“Oh…” He blinked, adjusting his glasses. “I heard what happened to your friend. I’m sorry.”

“He’s fine.” You shut the door behind him. “Please tell me you’ve got something.”

Jake hesitated. He had the information you needed—you could see it in his eyes. But something was off.

“Yes.” His tone was uncertain.

Your stomach tightened. “But…?”

“I think it’s better if you meet my mother instead.”

Your brows furrowed. “Why?”

Jake scratched the back of his neck. “She wants to meet you.”

You exhaled sharply. Of course. Miss Gossip herself.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Sloane sat in her worn armchair, knitting with steady, practiced hands. The dim lighting of the small parlor cast long shadows, giving the place an eerie, timeless feel. She barely glanced up as you and Jake entered, but you could tell—she already knew you were there.

With a quiet sigh, she adjusted her glasses and let her sharp gaze travel from your head to your toes.

“No matter what she did, you still look like her.”

You raised an eyebrow, cautiously taking a seat on the couch nearest to her. “You mean my mother?”

“Yes.” Her voice was calm but laced with something deeper—something knowing.

You exchanged a glance with Jake before turning back to her. “I heard from Jake that you have information about Stark and the mayor.”

Sloane gave a small nod, her fingers still working the yarn as if the conversation meant nothing. “It all comes back to your mother. Luna.”

Your stomach twisted at the name. “What did my mother do that made everyone in this town hate my dad and me?”

Sloane chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “It’s not hate, child. It’s fear. Guilt has a way of turning into fear.”

You swallowed. “What do you mean?”

She sighed, setting her knitting down for the first time. “It all started the moment she arrived in this town.”

“Arrived?” You frowned.

“You probably don’t know this, but your mother was adopted.”

Your breath caught in your throat. A cold chill ran down your spine, and for a moment, you thought you misheard her. The room suddenly felt smaller, like the walls were closing in.

Sloane watched your reaction carefully. “Judging by your face, I was right. You didn’t know.”

You could only shake your head.

She leaned forward slightly. “Your mother was adopted by the previous mortician—your step-grandparents.”

Jake shifted uncomfortably beside you, clearly as shocked as you were.

“It happened fifty years ago,” Sloane continued. “A car accident on the outskirts of town. A young couple died on impact, but their child—Luna—survived. She was only three years old.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

“The ones who took her in were your grandparents. They saw her as a blessing, a miracle, because they couldn’t have children of their own. And in a town like this, adoption was difficult—there were hardly any orphaned children. Even when there were, no child wanted to live in a funeral home.”

Sloane smirked slightly. “It scared them.”

You swallowed hard, your hands clenching into fists on your lap.

“But Luna… she was different. Your grandparents gave her everything—beautiful clothes, the best toys. They finally have a daughter so they spoiled her to death. And everyone noticed. Every child was jealous of her. And when she grew up, she became the most beautiful girl in town.”

Your voice came out quieter than you expected. “This is when she met Alex, right?”

Sloane nodded. “Not just him. Everyone. Everyone wanted to be her friend, to be near her. But they were jealous, too.”

She exhaled, eyes distant, as if recalling an old memory. “She was beautiful, just like her name. Like a goddess of the moon. People couldn’t look away. Men were drawn to her—sometimes against their better judgment.”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Did they…?”

A grim expression crossed Sloane’s face. “Sadly, yes. More than one man tried. And their eyes… they never hid their lust when they looked at her.”

Your stomach churned.

“Alex,” Sloane said after a beat, “Bucky’s father… I remember him and Luna being a power couple. But he was possessive. He had to be—his closest friends wanted her, too.”

Your lips parted slightly. “You mean the other three? Including Mr. Rogers?”

Sloane scoffed. “That man? Please. He could only admire her from afar.”

She sighed, setting her knitting aside completely. “One day, Luna broke up with Alex. And she chose Tom instead.”

“Why?” you asked, almost breathless.

Sloane’s next words made your entire world tilt.

“Because she found out the truth.”

Your body tensed. “The truth?”

Sloane’s gaze locked onto yours, unflinching. “About the car accident that killed her parents.”

You felt the blood drain from your face. “Alex was involved?”

“No. But his father was.” She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. “Along with the other fathers in their little gang.”

Your breath hitched, your hands gripping the armrests of the couch. Your heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst.

Sloane’s voice was quiet but razor-sharp. “Bucky is just like his father. And Alex? Just like his father. Like father like son. They were reckless. Popular. Untouchable. They drove like they owned the roads, ignoring every warning. The sheriff tried to stop them, told them not to drive under the influence.” She scoffed. “They didn’t listen.”

Your mind reeled. It all made sense now—why your mother left Alex, why your family was treated like outsiders.

Your mother’s real parents were killed by Alex’s father and his friends.

No wonder she couldn’t stay with him.

No wonder they feared you and your father.

You exhaled shakily. “And my dad?”

Sloane smiled faintly. “Ah, Tom. The quiet one. He was a runaway, just a lost boy. Your grandfather took him in, trained him to be a mortician. Nobody noticed him.”

Your chest tightened. “And when he got close to Luna?”

“He became their favorite punching bag.”

A deep, aching anger twisted inside you. Your nails dug into your palm.

Sloane studied you carefully. “Do you want to know why she truly chose him?”

You shook your head, but she told you anyway.

“Because he was the only man in town who didn’t look at her with lust. He respected her. Gave her space.”

She also chose Tom so her future children wouldn’t inherit her beauty. Luna saw her beauty as a curse. She doesn't want her child to suffer like her. But if she were still alive, she would be disappointed that her plan had failed. Look at your daughter now, Luna, Sloane thought as she watched you step into her house. She’s not as beautiful as you, but she carries the same confidence—the kind that draws everyone in, just like you did.

You inhaled sharply.

“That’s why they fear you,” Sloane continued. “Every time they see you or Tom, they remember what they did to her. And to him.”

Your jaw clenched. Every piece of the puzzle fit perfectly now, and it only made you hate this town more.

Sloane leaned back. “Now, about Stark. You should know—he was obsessed with your mother.”

You barely had time to process that before she dropped another bombshell.

“And the mayor?” She smirked. “Everyone knows he’s corrupt. But what people don’t talk about is the fact that he’s Thor’s real father.”

Your mouth fell open. “What?”

Jake finally spoke, his voice low. “Wait… how do you know all this?”

Sloane chuckled, picking up her knitting again. “Honey, I own a hair salon. My mother owned it before me. Do you know what that means?” She raised an eyebrow. “I hear everything. And let me tell you something—rumors? They’re always based on truth.”

Jake sighed, rubbing his temples. “Mom…”

“What about Natasha?” you asked.

Sloane’s mood soured instantly. “That snobby brat. She insulted my salon. I never liked her.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “Thank you for telling me all this. But why now? Why are you helping me?”

Sloane grinned. “Because I heard you’re rich.”

Jake groaned. “Mom!”

You blinked, caught off guard.

Sloane shrugged. “I also saw your car.”

You couldn’t help but smirk. At least this made things easier. “What do you want, Mrs. Jensen?”

Sloane’s eyes gleamed. “A cruise. Around the world.”

Jake buried his face in his hands. “Mom, stop. You’re embarrassing me.”

You chuckled, standing up and extending your hand. “You got it, Sloane. I’ll book you the best cruise money can buy. You won’t ever want to leave the ship.”

Sloane smirked, holding up the business card between her fingers. “This is what I’m talking about.”

You reached into your wallet, pulled out another card, and handed it to her. “Call this number. Give them my name. Then tell them exactly what you want.”

Sloane took the card, flipping it over with mild curiosity. When she read the title, her eyebrows lifted slightly.

"Vice President of Drysdale Co."

“Awesome.” She grinned, tucking the card into her apron pocket before standing up. Without another word, she headed toward the stairs, disappearing onto the second floor.

Jake let out a long breath beside you, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh… I’m sorry about my mom. She can be a bit much.”

You leaned back on the couch, stretching your arms over the backrest. “I don’t mind. Actually, I got everything I needed.”

Jake blinked at you, clearly surprised. “You did?”

You nodded. “More than I expected, actually.”

He exhaled, shaking his head. “Yeah… that was a lot.”

You tilted your head slightly, watching him. “Could you get someone to meet me?”

Jake’s posture straightened. “Of course. Who?”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “Natasha.”

At the Arcade

The neon lights flickered against the scuffed tile floor, casting an eerie glow over the buzzing machines. The scent of buttered popcorn and cheap soda lingered in the air, mixing with the faint metallic tang of coins and the distant beeps of arcade games.

You leaned against a pinball machine, arms crossed, watching the entrance. People came and went, laughter and shouts filling the space, but you weren’t here for fun.

Then, a familiar voice cut through the noise.

“I heard you wanted to see me?”

You turned your head, meeting Natasha’s sharp gaze. She stood near the entrance, arms crossed, exuding her usual air of arrogance.

“I am,” you replied smoothly, straightening up.

Natasha stepped closer, her heels clicking against the floor. “Well, here I am. So, what do you want?”

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sosa2imagines · 1 year ago

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Broken Hearts.

Each part will have different warnings. There's only one love interest and it is not Steve. He is dark and mean in the series along with one more character. As for the rest, they are good friends.

New part every second day. (Hopefully)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 (Epilogue)

Complete. ✅

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boar-xam · 10 days ago

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Bucky Barnes living in my brain rent free.

(lyrics from Boy by Alex G)

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shamrockqueen · 3 months ago

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Omega retreat chapter I3

Pairing : Alpha Bucky x Omega reader

Warnings : R18, breaking boundaries, references to sex, Bucky being bad, breaking Bucky

Word count : 2548

First chapter : Previous chapter

Bucky masterlist

Summary : As an unmarked and lonely omega you find a flyer for a service called The Omega Retreat.

You are paired with a compatible alpha to spend your heat or just a week at a luxurious cabin at a forest resort. Amenities and Utilities included. Enjoy the beautiful scenery, fresh air, as well as the company of an alpha of your choosing. What could possibly go wrong?

Bucky felt your presence leave the bed almost immediately, but even he was much too tired to push up from the blankets just yet to follow you.

You had successfully slipped away towards the bathroom, leaving his slumber to be broken. Small, sightless dreams cracked at each edge until they faded out with the blur of a bright beam of morning light.

With a flutter of long eyelashes dusting his cheek as they opened to the warm and yet empty blankets at his side. It added weight to his heavily thrumming heart so that it began to sink further into his chest.

The room was a whirlwind of blankets and pillows strewn from the cushy bedding all along the floor around your shared sleeping area. A fitting aftermath of the last few days and nights of the tireless chase towards toe-curling climaxes and the hard lock of his heavy knot as it was hugged by your tight channel.

He shuddered at the recent memory of you wrapped around his body. Your presence, your scent, even the fleeting image of you made him so weak. The tainted splinter in the paw of a mighty beast, causing his muscles to atrophy and making him feel heavy and numb.

His belly twisted, making the umbilical ligament running under his belly button seize. He gave a soft wince at the unexpected discomfort, thankful you weren’t near to hear it. His inner alpha was angry, fighting back while forced into its cage.

For now, he needed to breathe and will this new defiance away. With each soft inhale came a calmer exhale, and he found the strength to free himself from the sheets to follow your path towards the bathroom. Although your proximity would only stir him further, he hoped that a shower could clear his head and refresh his senses.

It would only be a few short steps up the thin hallway and up to the quaint little washroom that he’d see you standing at the sink loosely wrapped in his flannel that you’d stolen from its perch on a chair. It covered your more intimate portions, and he lamented not being able to see your bare skin.

He had left the bed just as still in the buff, stretching his limbs to relieve the small twinges of tension as he watched you complete a small part of your daily routine. He’d been so careful not to disturb your peace that when his reflection came into view behind your own, it sadly startled you.

He watched as you jumped, clutching your chest before realizing there wasn’t any perceived threat. “Jesus, you scared me.” You had laughed in relief.

“Sorry, doll.” Bucky smiled as he spoke, rubbing the sleep from one of his eyes before stepping up to slip his arms around your small shoulders. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like the dead.” You smiled, giving him a small chuckle he soon shared with you.

He loved that laugh, and he easily caught sight of your eyes shifting over more and more of his body once you’d turned to face him. It was that bashfulness you always had from the beginning that made him want to lure you further from your shell.

He was able to walk around you as you stared, unaware that the flex of each leg was drawing your attention further towards him. It made his skin feel prickled, like a tingling sensation of little lights bursting over his body. His body reacted to you, giving you this show as it flushed pink at every corner and every extension. His member swelled, lifting from his thighs in interest as your lingering gaze.

But, he wanted much more than your gaze, and he gave you a small cough to snap you out of your trance.

You were stuttering out a stifled “Oh fuck, m’sorry” as you began to quickly put your toiletries away. Those nimble fingers digging into that small black bag that sat precariously on the small porcelain sink.

Bucky could feel each vertebra seize, like a stiff rod along his spine, as his body became rigid. The air in his lungs grew stagnant, dull, and acidic with each second he held it.

Only when you zipped the bag closed again was he able to exhale, careful and quiet so as not to raise your suspicions. At any moment this little world between the two of you could have collapsed, all due to one small piece of aluminum not present among your personal effects. For now he continues this soft sway with you until the next time you seem to get too close to a bitter truth.

His smile reappeared, bubbling into a soft chuckle at the sight of your still warm and rosy cheeks. “No, it’s fine. You can look all you want, babe."

He tempted you, turning the shower on and beckoning you to follow him. Further and further into this little life you could have in these few days.

He stood under the spray, letting it soak into his hair until it clung to his wide neck and brushed his shoulders with a few stray tendrils. He watched each nervous motion as you pulled his flannel up and off your shoulders. He watched you, taking in each nervous step as well as the small dribble of sweat that trailed down from your hair to hide past your ear and behind your neck.

Finally he got to see all of you, every inch, in one long look. No bits and pieces tiled together over a night blurred over by passion. Your hands tried to linger along the fabric, but ultimately you decided just to pull it away and toss it aside.

He gives you room to follow him into the shower and steps aside to let you soak in the warm water. It trailed along your back to be traced by his fingers.

You shivered a little until he pulled himself away. His presence was never far behind as he filled his hand with shampoo and pulled a few strands of your hair towards him too. First a few stray hairs, then a full lock until his thick digits tangled themselves against your scalp.

It was hypnotic; the lull of the water was like the song of hot summer rain hitting a window, and his finger drew slow circles through your hair.

“God, that’s so good.”

Bucky couldn’t help the rumble of his chest as he exhaled a low chuckle, pleased with you melting in his hands before pulling you back under the water to wash the soap away.

He spreads the body wash bar over his hands to wash more of you, pushing hair off your neck as his fingers go over your shoulders and down your back before sliding under your arms to lather over your breasts. You bent against him as another hand slid over your nipple and down your stomach as the other continued playing with the other bud.

His grin was near devilish, still tinted with his admiration as well as lust, and quickly he pulled you to turn and face him. It was only slightly startling as he moved you languidly.

You tried to hide behind your hands, nimble digits clasped together and arms laying over your breasts.

That small lock of fingers was no match for Bucky’s. They were thicker, stronger, enclosing yours and pulling them away with ease.

He pushed closer, letting your back press to the tile wall behind you, and his lips graced along your cheek and further towards your ear. “Please don’t hide from me, ‘mega.”

The spray of the water helped to clear a path on your shoulder for him to spread his lips over your skin.

He wanted you against him, tightly wound together like interwoven vines. His lips dragging along your skin as the tip of his nose rounded over your cheek.

When he’d speak, it was a whisper, soft but still overpowering the pounding downpour of the hot shower. “You are so beautiful; everything, all of you, is so soft. So perfect.”

His hands slid away from yours, finding familiar territory along your hills and flowering valleys.

“That..that can’t be true.” Your cheeks felt tempered, blooming with fresh warmth not caused by the water.

“Don’t do that, doll. If you could only see the woman you are through my eyes, you’d never look away.” He smiled against your skin, purely delighted with you tightly hugged in his arms.

All of him was melting into you. His hard thighs against those of your plush and feminine legs, and the solid plains of stomach and chest pressed to your shapely form.

His wiggled lower, gliding over your belly and past your mound to tangle in your soft folds. Another part of him is pressed to your soft thigh, a sign of his eagerness and yet, restraint.

His lips fell away from your skin to steal a kiss from you. It was a taste of savagery, faintly biting before his mind could tell him to sink his teeth in any harder.

He pulls you into a whole new trance, and you’re bending to him, pushing your leg against his stiff member. He bucked against it in retaliation, a small wave of overstimulation making him twitch against you.

It wasn’t like you to tease, and as much as he loved to see you untangle from the roots of your bashful nature to find new freedoms, he couldn’t risk letting himself go feral.

You would finally find boldness to tempt him between your legs.

“That’s new.” He purred, letting his voice roll like low thunder along your lips.

You hummed with a little confusion, not quite listening.

His cock spreads through your thighs, bumping up along the opening between your lower lips, only teasing at the stretch of him, barely pushing inside of you. He only ghosted over the opening of your rose, never fully breaking through.

Your voice was weak, a small trill and a shuddered whimper with each threat of penetration.

He’s toying with you as the heat that once dimmed began to bubble underneath the hot water and all over your skin. But, you were equal temptation to the lion lying in wait, ready to burst from your new lover and devour you.

The alpha wanted to eat you, tear a scar into your skin, and take claim of your body as his and his alone. Its bonds nearly loose as it shook its cage to fight Bucky for freedom.

He caught his cock at the rim of your pink opening, pushing to stretch you around him like well-fitted silk. A tight, tantalizing hug that spurred his movement through your tight channel.

One of his hands met your adjacent leg, prying you apart and nearly slamming you against the harsh and slick tiled walls. Your joints pop in protest, straining against his hold as you're stretched into a new position. For now it went ignored, tossed to the wayside in pursuit of pleasing the omega mewling for the hot lock of your lover's knot.

He’s pinning you like a butterfly with clipped wings, his hands being the sharp needles digging into the sides of your legs. Yet, without him, you’d collapse to the shower floor as your feet would fail to catch you.

It left you at the mercy of his movements, the long draw back and a hard thrust inside, dragging through your body with ferocity. It was something wild, ravenous, and nearly desperate.

Each sound is so loud, from the water pouring over the both of you to the uneven rhythm of your voice cutting through the roaring of his with a higher pitch. All was ringing deep in your ear until it became a continuous buzz.

Your body was numb, senses deafened as you let yourself fall against James. Your neck and shoulder were open to his hungry lips and pearly canines.

He’s grabbing your arms, unconsciously pinning them at your sides. Teeth pressing harder and harder on your skin but never breaking the skin. His jaw locking with a crack, the popping of a joint to fight the urge to lock around your tender flesh.

A small tear will trail down his cheek, lashes fluttering as he came, locking himself inside of you.

The downpour of the warm shower does Bucky well to hide that tear.

That pain he’d felt earlier came back. Only a dull thrum for now, the pulling of a cord just below his navel. His knot pops, locking him tightly inside your quivering channel as it’s filled with the thick spill of his cum. His body allowed him the pleasure of your body and a shuddering climax, but there would still be a lingering need in his belly.

The knot takes you back into the warm, primal pool, drowns you, and washes you under its crashing water.

You are all Omega. A dangerous breed. Something just as dangerous as he could be.

With his knot still tightly wrapped in the soft embrace of your sore cunt. Once, twice, and yet another jolt of paint to match his. A sting shared by both, ringing along the back of your deep channel, and another tearing along his belly as he continues to empty himself inside you.

All either of you can do now is catch your breath. Each fighting to find air in the hot water, fighting not to suffocate in each other's twisted embrace.

When the heat of the water dimmed, running low and supplemented with something colder, you gasped for fresh, cool air. Bucky did the same, finding grounding in the increasingly cold water until he finally pulled his softening knot free, holding you in your uncomfortable position with the lock of his elbows before letting you slide back to the tile floor on weak feet.

When his knot goes down, he pulls out carefully.

Your head was still in a haze of the previous dream after being hit with freezing water. A naked James held your hand to guide you back towards the bedroom. Your knees and hips ache, popping in protest to your previous position.

Your blood boiling under your skin in a now-familiar fashion. You let him pull you in and lure you away from the bathroom and into his embrace.

He acts as your guide, your anchor, as he pulled you back to him and carried you away. He was the one that needed to be strong; he always needed to be strong.

It was immediate, hastily peppered kisses stolen over any inch of bare skin. Wandering fingers weave through past your soft belly, over your mound, and dig right into your wet core. He seemed to be showing some restraint, making his touch only slightly more gentle than when he initially tore at your seams while cornering you in the shower.

Gentle, but still brimming with need.

He needs you.

In the end you were connected to him again, spooning into that nest of blankets and pillows. It was inescapable as he bled more and more of your lingering heat to the surface of your skin. It was as if he was possessing you, a demon with hot, searing nails crawling under your flesh before soothing the subtle sting with his warm tongue.

Chapter 14

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lokiswifeduh · 1 year ago

Text

Don't leave me

Pairings- Mob!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary- The aftermath of the shootout was here. And Bucky has to come to terms with the results of the life he introduced you to, and what revenge he would ensue.

notes- this is a part two to Doll, please. I hope you guys enjoy the ending!! Please let me know your thoughts!! Thank you for reading loves!!

Warnings- angst, talk of guns, drugs, kidnapping, abuse, torture. major gore. sad Bucky, hurt reader, hurt/comfort, gunshot wounds, medical talk, revenge.

WC- 3k

catch up here (part one)

masterlist

"Doll, please."

I saw her look up at me with those doe eyes. Those big beautiful eyes painfully gazing into mine. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to turn her away from the bullets that were sure to fly our way, but I couldn't move my hands. In this moment I couldn't protect her.

I felt the sob rip from her throat. There were only ten seconds left.

"I vowed to stand by your side, Buck." She looked back to the ten guns pointed in mine and her direction. I could see a stray tear slip down her cheek as her hands shook, her nails digging into her palm as she tried her hardest to release my wrists from the painful wire digging into them.

Suddenly she dropped the knife, jumping into my lap. Her hands wrapped around my neck as her legs surrounded the back of the chair, encasing my upper body. "NO! Doll, please!!" I felt her hit the knife in my thigh with hers, but I ignored the pain focusing on what in the world she thought she was doing.

The men cocked their guns. But in that moment all I could think about was how to get her off of me. I needed her to run, to fight back to do something. Not to protect my body with hers. I couldn't let her.

"Doll!! Stop!! Get up!!" But my protests fell on deaf ears as she tucked my head into her chest, wrapping her arms tighter around my neck, not letting me move a muscle below her. She shook her head, my tears soaking her shirt, mixing with mine and her blood. "I won't let you die." She attempted to shout but at that moment her voice was the quietest I'd ever heard it.

I tried to whisper back when suddenly shots rang out through the warehouse. My head popped up, prepared to die with the love of my life. I wouldn't let her do it herself. I would not live without her. Not if I had a choice.

But in that split second, I realized the first bullets that went flying weren't from Rumlow's men, it was from Steve, Sam, and my men, shooting at the ones who threatened us.

"Doll, we're gonna be oka-" But my words were cut short as two bullets flew into her. She screamed. Her vocal cords grinding together in the most painful way I'd ever heard. I felt my heart rip in two as her body shook against mine, arching her back as if that would stop the pain.

But she kept her head down, arms shaking yet still holding onto me. I would have cut my hands off if I had the strength to rip through the restraints. A sob tore from my throat, "Don't do this to me."

She finally lifted her head, my beautiful wife looking at me with such care and tenderness. As if she hadn't just been shot twice, and wasn't using all of her strength to hold onto me for dear life.

A small drop of blood trickled down the side of her mouth as her teeth were painted red. "I love you, James Barnes." She cupped my face in her hands, tucking me back into her chest as her grip seemed to loosen, "Till forever and always."

The words we both said to each other on our wedding day. "Doll, please." Her hold on me finally failed as she fell, but thankfully into the arms of Steve, before her head would've slammed into the concrete.

My second in command looked at both of us. Tortured and bloody. I held in my tears as I looked at Sam, leading a pair of medics through the door.

"Rumlow will pay." The wire from my wrists was snapped in half thanks to Peter, a new, very terrified recruit. I shot down immediately onto my knees, holding her head in my hands as the paramedics loaded my wife onto the stretcher. "Don't leave me."

I made eye contact with Steve, "I will have him and that traitor's head."

_________________

You lay in the hospital bed, your whole body practically wrapped in soft white bandages.

You could feel the pressure of something on your thigh as you tried to open your eyes. It wasn't working. Why couldn't you just open them?!

Try something else, you thought.

You moved your hands, the feeling of someone else's palm in yours made your heart start to race. You could remember little parts over the last three days.

Bucky was kidnapped.

Steve was put in charge.

You were kidnapped.

Natasha was working with Rumlow.

The torture.

The pain.

Your husband's face as you used yourself as a human shield.

Being shot.

Suddenly you heard screaming and saw bright lights. A heart monitor was beeping louder and faster at each passing second.

Realizing the screaming was in fact your own, you started to breathe harder. You finally could open your eyes!

Your surroundings were blurry at first. There was a familiar figure in front of you. Sounds were muffled but began to come back into focus.

"Doll?! Sweetheart, you're okay."

You shook your head, looking around in panic before realizing you were in fact back at home, in your bed. Bucky beside you. Your husband, holding your face in his hands.

"B-Bucky?" Your voice was raspy and your throat felt like sandpaper, rubbing together from underuse.

Involuntarily you started to cough, holding a hand up to your throat which only caused more pain in your back to bloom. "Ah," You groaned, swallowing before resting your head back on the pillow.

You felt Bucky's hands leave your body, but only for a second as he held a straw to your lips. "It's just water doll. I need you to drink this for me." You nodded, feeling a pounding in your head as you sucked down the refreshing liquid. The coolness soothing your throat like rain in the desert.

"Good girl." Bucky gave you a soft smile, taking the straw away from your mouth as you finished the water.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you regained your vision, looking around.

Monitors, medical equipment, and an abundance of flowers and cards filled your and Bucky's bedroom. Light shone through the window as you squinted, shooting over to look at Bucky who just gazed down at you worryingly.

You looked him over, seeing the cuts and bruises that adorned his face. His lip was split in multiple places. His thigh was wrapped in gauze and his wrists were bandaged. Looking down, so were yours. Actually, it seemed your entire body was.

"Are yo-," You swallowed, "Are you okay?"

Bucky took a moment before letting out a laugh. "You're asking me if I'm okay, doll?" You nodded, confused.

"Sweetheart you're the one who's been unconscious for three weeks and has two bullet wounds."

You twisted your hips a little, feeling the agonizing, shooting pain of the very real bullet wounds. Groaning, you whispered, "So that definitely happened, good to know."

Bucky ran his hand down the side of your face, sitting in the chair that was placed beside your shared bed. "I'm the one who's supposed to protect you, doll." You gulped, "I- I couldn't let you die, James."

Bucky closed his eyes, laying his head down on your thigh as he gripped your hand in his. "I would've rather die than see you in this state, sweetheart."

You lifted your other hand, running it through his untamed hair. "Don't say that, Buck." But his head lifted, making you notice his bloodshot eyes and the way tears streamed down his face in harsh lines. "I won't live without you, doll." He shook his head, a tear dripping onto the hospital blanket "I would rather die a thousand times over and over in the same painful way than see you in such agony, my love."

You held back tears, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breath. "I couldn't- no. I wouldn't let you die like that, Buck." You looked at him once again, "Not at the hands of Rumlow. Not because of me." "This wasn't because of you, doll-" "But it was!" You shouted, making you cough slightly, not used to using your voice for this long yet. "Rumlow took you because he wanted to hurt us- because he wanted me." You cupped Bucky's jaw in your hand, "Because I chose you." Bucky gulped, "I've never been so scared." You softly laughed, thinking of all the shootouts, drug deals, and interrogations Bucky went through on a day-to-day basis.

But he shook his head, hearing your chuckle. "Seeing him hurt you and torture you the way he did." Bucky's eyes went dark, "I've never wanted to hurt someone so bad just to ensure you made it out of there safely." You tried to speak up but Bucky kept going. "And look at you now. You're laying here, with two gunshot wounds, fingernails ripped apart, and a busted-up face."

Tilting your head, you looked at the mirror that stood in front of your and Bucky's bed; genuinely taking in your appearance. You in fact did have a busted-in face. Your lip was split. Your eyebrow was stitched as well as your nose. You had bruises covering every inch of your skin and your hair was in the worst shape you had ever seen.

Gulping, you looked away from the mirror, making Bucky take your chin in his hands, guiding you to look him in the eyes. "But you're still the prettiest doll I've ever seen." He moved, bringing his lips to yours in a soft yet long-awaited kiss. "My best girl."

It hurt to smile but you did, bringing your hand to his face, gently rubbing over the matching bruises that mirrored yours. "I love you, James."

"I love you, doll."

________________________

The next few days were agonizing.

You could finally stand up on the third day. But not without terrible pain shooting in every nerve ending of your body.

Bucky helped you with everything. From showering to cleaning your wounds. He was quite the nurse when it came to you.

But unfortunately about a week after you woke up, the violence hadn't ended. There were still some loose ends to tie up.

Slowly walking down the stairs and into one of the main rooms, everyone's attention went to your hobbling frame. "Doll?" Bucky sped over, Steve immediately pulling up a chair so you could take a seat.

As you sat down you noticed a large bruise on Steve's jaw. You knew Bucky would eventually be mad at him for not properly making sure you stayed out of the mess and violence of it all. But you were hoping it would've been a stern lecture, not a punch.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Bucky whispered. The room stayed completely silent as Steve, Sam, and the rest of Bucky's men kept their backs turned, giving you two some privacy.

"I know you're planning to retaliate against, Rumlow."

Bucky nodded, taking your face in his hands as you fidgeted with the string of your sweatpants. Well, Bucky's sweatpants.

"I don't want you involved again, doll." He glanced back at Steve for a moment, "Not after what happened."

You shook your head, "I need him to pay for this, Buck." Your body shook with anger, "I want his fucking blood." Bucky was slightly startled, never seeing this much hatred in your eyes. You were always his sweet wife. You made the men cookies, and you organized charity events for the homeless shelter down the street.

Sure, you knew how to use a gun and fight if you had to. But seeing this much agonizing resentment on your face, scared him. But he knew you wouldn't let it go. He sure as hell wasn't.

So he let you know the plan, and what was going down.

______________

"Steve? We good?" Bucky touched the earpiece, hearing an affirmative. The mob had infiltrated Rumlow's mansion only one week later, killing every single man who stood in their way. Shoot on site. Was your husband's order as you and he waited to enter the mansion, making sure only Rumlow and Natasha were left.

Two of Bucky's men opened the doors to the mansion. The sight of the place made you cringe slightly. Soldiers were dead on the ground everywhere. Blood painted the floors and staircases like a stain.

"Top floor, back left bedroom."

You heard Steve's voice echo through the earpiece as you and Bucky made your way up.

His hand never left the small of your back, making sure you were covered at all angles with men following behind and in front of you, rifles pinned for every aspect of an attack.

"You alright, doll?" Bucky whispered, his hand on the door that would lead you to Rumlow. You nodded, ignoring the dull pain in your back. "I need this to be over with." Your husband kissed the crown of your head, nodding to his men as they busted down the door, guns held high.

But the sight in front of you made you smile.

Rumlow was beaten down, cowering in the corner of the room as Natasha stood in the corner, you could see the fear in her eyes. The same fear she caused you as she ripped your fingernails to pieces.

"Brock Rumlow," Bucky spoke in a deep voice, pulling on a pair of black gloves, before handing you a matching pair.

You slipped them on, hand placed on the knife that was strapped onto your thigh, just above the black jeans you had on.

Steve and Sam patted Bucky on the back, looking toward you with respect. "Have fun, you two." The blonde spoke, before exiting and closing the doors behind them.

"P-please, Barnes." Rumlow pleaded, "Have mercy."

Bucky was about to laugh before Natasha beat him to it. "Oh, please. You two really think he was the mastermind behind all this?" You looked over at the redhead in the corner, your former friend.

"If he's not, does that mean you are?" Your voice carried through the room, a newfound confidence making you raise your head high.

Natasha grinned, "And here I thought you never would've survived." You tilted your head, "Two bullet shots and I'm walking four weeks later." You pulled the gun from your other holster, "I can't say the same for you after this." You pointed it right at her forehead.

"Come here," Bucky moved forward, knowing you had Natasha pinned with the intent to shoot; dragging Rumlow up as two of his men held him on his knees.

"Nat, please. Do something." Rumlow begged, making you let out a laugh under your breath. "Do you think she's really in the position to?" You saw her move forward slightly, making you cock your gun, "One more step and I blow your fucking brains all over these white sheets."

Bucky grinned, loving this color on you.

"You really thought you could take my girl from me?" Your husband kneels in front of Brock, pulling out a knife from his belt. "What did you call her after breaking her nose? Oh, that's right, a 'lovely specimen."

Bucky's smirk dropped, nodding at the two men holding Brock down as they forced his mouth open. Brock shouted and yelled as Bucky gripped the end of his tongue, pulling it from his mouth and slicing it clean off from the base with his knife.

Brock wailed and cried as another soldier brought over a jar filled with a yellow liquid, opening the top so Bucky could drop the tongue in. He closed the lid, holding it up high as he watched Brock's mouth fill with blood. "What a lovely specimen."

"You two are fucking sick." Natasha, sneered, making you grip the knife from your own holster, throwing it and landing it right in her hand that was held in the air. She screamed, falling to the ground and back up until her back hit the wall.

You kneeled down, gun still pointed in her face, "Talk again and next time your tongue will join his in the jar." Your former friend gulped, nodding as you smirked.

Bucky gripped the front of Brock's shirt, making his back touch Bucky's chest as he held a knife to his throat. "Anything you wanna say before I kill you in front of your girlfriend, Rumlow?"

You laughed, slightly, making Bucky huff in humor. "Oh, that's right. You can't" He whispered the last part before slicing a clean and deep cut across his neck, blood pouring out as he collapsed to the ground, whimpering and sputtering in pain as he bled out, his eyes on you in fear as he eventually stopped moving.

Natasha looked back at you, still clutching her bleeding hand into her chest. You kneeled down, "Why, Natasha?" She shook with terror, hardly being able to force the words out. "Why did he have to pick you?!"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "What?" Natasha scoffed, looking over at your husband, then back to you.

"Before you came along I thought he could love me. But then you showed up, taking all Bucky's attention. I never stood a fucking chance." You laughed, sighing before standing and walking over to Bucky, placing a hand on the back of his head before smashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. He groaned, biting your lip and making you moan into his mouth.

You chuckled, still holding the back of his head in your hand. You lifted your arm, perfect aim.

"No, Natasha. You never stood a fucking chance." One, two, then three shots rang out through the room as you planted two bullets in Natasha's head, and one in the chest.

Dropping the gun, you saw her body slump to the ground. Dead.

Bucky turned you away from the scene, bringing your face into his hands as both of you had unshed tears in your eyes. "It's over, doll."

You nodded, holding onto his hands as they held your face. "Can we go home, Buck?" He nodded, bringing your face into his chest as he walked you back through the house and into the car. "We're going home, doll. I'm never leaving you."

End

__________________

part one (read first)

masterlist

Taglist:

@yeahyeahyeah23-blog @rinniereads123 @shortnloud @julvrs @unaxv @sapphirebarnes

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bandsofmarv · 5 months ago

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Cutting Ties (Ghostface Bucky)

Bucky becomes dangerously obsessed with you even going as far as eliminating those around you.

warnings - murder, obsession.

The first time you noticed him, you thought it was just a coincidence. A dark figure at the edge of your vision as you walked home from the coffee shop. A fleeting shadow that seemed to disappear the moment you turned around.

Brooklyn was always alive with people, even at night, so you chalked it up to paranoia. But it wasn’t long before the coincidences became harder to ignore.

A knock at your apartment door late at night. No one there when you checked.

Your name written in the condensation on your bathroom mirror.

The faint feeling of being watched, even in your own home.

And then the killings started.

The first victim was your coworker, a sweet woman named Rachel who’d always made an effort to check in on you. You found out through the news the next morning. Stabbed in her apartment. No sign of forced entry.

The police called it random, but you knew better. Rachel had just been at your apartment two nights before, sharing wine and gossip. She’d been your only real friend in the city.

Her death left you shaken. But the city didn’t stop, and neither could you.

A week later, it was your neighbor, Marcus. He’d offered to help fix your leaky faucet the night before he was found in the stairwell, his throat slit.

The pattern was impossible to ignore now. Everyone who got close to you seemed to end up dead.

That’s when you saw him.

It was late, and you were walking home from work. The streets were unusually quiet, a thin fog rolling in from the river. The air felt heavy, suffocating.

And then you saw the figure at the end of the street.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a black cloak, the Ghostface mask gleaming white under the streetlights. He didn’t move, just stood there, watching you.

Your heart pounded as you froze, clutching your bag like it could protect you.

“Who are you?” you called, your voice shaking.

He tilted his head, the mask turning slightly as if amused by your fear.

When he finally took a step forward, you bolted.

————————————————————————

You spent the next week barricading yourself inside your apartment, refusing to answer the door or your phone. Sleep was impossible. Every creak, every shadow set your nerves on edge.

But no matter how hard you tried to shut the world out, you couldn’t escape him.

A package arrived at your door one morning. No return address. Inside was a single black glove and a note scrawled in messy handwriting:

“You don’t need anyone else. You have me.”

Your stomach twisted, bile rising in your throat. This wasn’t random. He was obsessed with you.

The next time you saw him, it was in your apartment.

You woke up to find him standing at the foot of your bed, the Ghostface mask blank and staring. You couldn’t even scream, your body frozen in terror.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, his voice muffled by the mask. Low, gravelly, almost familiar.

“Who are you?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He reached up, slowly pulling the mask away.

Your breath hitched.

“Bucky?”

James Buchanan Barnes—your quiet, brooding neighbor who always seemed to linger a little too long in the hallway. The man who had offered to carry your groceries up the stairs, who had fixed your squeaky door without you asking.

“I’ve been protecting you,” he said, his blue eyes soft but unrelenting. “They didn’t deserve you. None of them did.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “You killed them… Rachel, Marcus… Why?”

His expression darkened, the softness replaced by something far more dangerous.

“They were getting in the way,” he said simply. “You don’t need anyone else. I’ve been here the whole time. For you.”

You tried to scramble out of the bed, but he was faster, his Vibranium arm pinning you in place.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice low and almost pleading. “I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you. But I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

The days that followed blurred together. Bucky didn’t leave. He stayed in your apartment, always watching, always nearby. He cooked your meals, cleaned up after himself, even smiled at you like none of this was horrifying.

But the mask stayed, perched on the table like a silent reminder of what he was capable of.

You tried to escape once, when he was in the shower. But the moment you opened the door, he was there, dripping wet and furious.

“Don’t make me lock you in,” he warned, his grip on your wrist firm but not painful. “I don’t want to do that.”

You realized then that there was no reasoning with him.

Bucky Barnes wasn’t just a broken man. He was completely unhinged. And you were his obsession.

One night, as he sat across from you at the table, you decided to speak.

“Why me?” you asked quietly.

He tilted his head, considering the question.

“You were kind,” he said after a long pause. “The only person who looked at me like I was more than… this.” He gestured to his Vibranium arm, his lips curling into a bitter smile. “I couldn’t let you slip away like everyone else.”

“Bucky,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice calm, “this isn’t love. This is—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted sharply, his jaw tightening. “Don’t say that. I love you. I’ve done everything for you. I’ve made sure no one else could hurt you.”

You didn’t have an answer for that. What could you possibly say to someone who believed their obsession was love?

All you knew was that you had to find a way out. Before he decided that even you weren’t enough.

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sarahowritesostucky · 1 year ago

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📖"Happy Little Family" Prompt/Teaser Post:

Your heart ices over as you see him there - holding your baby. "No," you breathe.

"Look who it is!" he coos happily. He smiles at your terrified visage in the doorway and kisses June's head. "We missed you, Mommy."

"And then the knight took the princess away to his castle, and they lived happily ever after."

You're just outside the nursery when you hear his voice, and ice cold fear instantly floods your chest. You drop the laundry basket and run into the room, and there he is: seated in the chair you nurse from, reading one of the antique fairytale books that your mom gave at the shower, holding your baby.

"James," you breathe, horrified.

He's been smiling down at June, but now his face smooths out as he looks up at you. He isn't frowning or glaring, but you know him, and there's a storm behind those eyes that makes dread curl heavy in your stomach. "Hi Doll," he says quietly. "It's good to see you again."

Your heart pounds in your chest. You feel sick. One wrong move and who knows what he'll do. You take a cautious step forward, eyes searching James' body and anywhere nearby for a gun. You don't see one. You take another step. "James," you warn,

June makes a happy gurgle at seeing you, and James coos down at her, "Aw, yeah sweetie. I'm happy to see Mommy too."

Mommy. Hearing that word come out of his mouth, in a setting like this, is a nightmare you've woken from more than once. You lick your lips and hold out your arms, pleading, "James, please give her to me."

He acts like he hasn't even heard you, smiling and tapping June's body with one finger. "We were just reading a story. Little lady is gonna be a big reader one day, I bet. Gonna grow up to be real smart." His gaze slides back to you, with what you interpret as a world-of-hurt-coming-your-way look glimmering in his eyes. "A clever, tricky little kitty cat. Just like her Mommy."

📖"Daddy's Home"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, evil baby daddy, evil-ex, dubcon/noncon, threats and coercion, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

Story Masterlist

@cjand10, @violetwinterwidow01

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buckrecs · 2 years ago

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Hi I was wondering if you had any recommendations for lumberjack!bucky

Lumberjack!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

Hero Next Door by @jobean12-blog

You and your dog Winter have recently moved to the quiet of the country and you love it then you meet your new neighbor...

I’m yours by @peteyprecious616

soft lumberjack Bucky drabble

Safe Heaven by @world-of-aus

I’m Sorry by @wh0reforoldmen

Dark!Bucky You made Bucky mad, and he makes you apologize for your "wrong doing"

ooey gooey by @thornsnvultures

Every morning, Bucky comes to your store for terrible coffee and maybe something a little sweet on the side.

SERIES

Undisclosed by @pellucid-constellations

Desperate to outrun a secret that could cost you your life, you seek refuge in a small mountain town. Its deep forests and small cabins make it the perfect place to hide, but the travel website hadn’t mentioned anything about the quiet, burly lumberjack that wouldn’t leave your thoughts. No one had warned Bucky about you either.

Sturdy Roots, Strong Hearts by @rookthorne

Life in your small town could not have gotten any better, you had sworn. That was until you started to call a handsome, brooding lumberjack your best friend, and you developed butterflies at any mention of his name, or thought of him. Sure, it was going to be fine, you could do this. What could go wrong?

Through Sea Mist and Shadows by @archive-obsess

after years away, (Y/n) returns to the small family farm on a remote Maine island that was once considered her home. things are different now, her family bears her sad smiles, the fisherman's boy is quiet and reserved, and she herself has changed beyond her own recognition.

Lumberjack AUs by @angrythingstarlight

Lumberjack!Bucky Masterlist

Lumby and Bunny by @sweetdreamsbuck

Bucky's never been so scared of a feeling in his life. there are too many what if's– too many fears bubbling deep within the parts of him left broken and hollow, untouched for far too long. but he never envisioned finding you– and he's entirely too impatient; entirely too certain no one's ever been more infatuated with something than how he feels for you.

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes series #lumberjack!bucky #bucky barnes modern au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #dark!bucky #beefy!bucky #neighbor!bucky

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jimblejamblewritings · 1 month ago

Text

Pet Soldier | 3

THIS IS A DARK FIC!

Warnings for the Series: 18+ only. Heavy Angst (eventual hurt comfort). Violence. Mentions and depictions of Non-Con and Dub-Con. Psychological Trauma. Not Canon Compliant. Manipulation. Hydra.

Important Warnings for this Part: trauma, torture, manipulation

Pairing: eventual Stucky x reader, Stucky x hydra!reader, Bucky x reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist coming soon

“I believe it would be best if L/N was moved from Avengers Tower.”

Those were the first words out of Steve’s mouth. He was trying and failing to get out more before the protests started. Not only had he scheduled an emergency meeting before anyone got a chance to eat but now he wanted to just let you roam free unsupervised? Outside of the tower.

“Enough! As the captain, I am choosing to make an executive decision.”

“This is bullshit and you know it, Steve. She can’t be trusted.”

Bucky called for Dr. Myers. His knee bounced up and down the entire time as he waited for the therapist to arrive on their floor, ignoring the arguments coming from the rest of the Avengers. Every so often, his eyes flitted over to you. Nothing in your body language or facial expressions was readable. Bucky finally sighed in relief once his therapist arrived.

“Let’s just let the doc decide if this move is best for everyone mentally,” Bucky spoke slowly. “FRIDAY, starting from two months ago, anywhere from one in the morning to around three, please find any time when I entered L/N’s room.”

That shut the team up. No one could figure out why he would have been in your room but they knew it probably wasn’t good. However, they all expected the problem to be you. Bucky swallowed thickly as the video played. You weren’t the monster. He was. That was the only real thought going through his head. It didn’t matter if it was the winter soldier, not at that moment.

Tony clamped a hand over his mouth, wide-eyed and head shaking as the video showed Bucky choking you to a point of concernment. The winter soldier’s nightmares were nothing new to the team. But there was always a sort of blank stare in his eyes. An obvious sign that Bucky wasn’t present with anymore.

The soldier on the video in front of them was far more expressive than any nightmare before. There was a concentrated darkness to his gaze and sadistic enjoyment in his smile. Like he wanted you to feel this pain. And that scared everyone.

“Barnes, what did you do?” Natasha struggled to even look at him. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing HYDRA hasn’t programmed him to do,” you answered for him, startling everyone that you seemed to be defending him. “The Asset’s rampages have never been easy. HYDRA found an outlet to subdue and satisfy those rampages with minimal violence and eventually no casualties.”

“They let him rape you?” Sam asked, unable to tear his eyes away from the now still image on the screen.

“Why do you sound so surprised? I thought you all go on and on about how HYDRA are the bad guys.”

“But to allow him to do that to his own handler?” Natasha folded her arms over her chest. “It doesn’t seem within their nature and a good way for them to lose control of their asset.”

You didn’t have a good response so you chose to stay silent, hoping your face didn’t accidentally crack from the relatively bored expression you had been sporting since entering the room. It wasn’t exactly a shocker to you that the Avengers would be horrified by HYDRA practices. But you were a bit surprised to see that their expressions were showing actual concern for you. Someone they believed was a handler and higher-up in that horrid organization.

Wanda’s gasp drew everyone’s attention. Her eyes never left you, making you squirm in your seat. If anyone was going to recognize the change in your microexpressions, you had expected it to be Natasha or Bucky. You went stiff at the sudden remembrance that the woman still staring at you could read minds.

“What is it?” Steve asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you muttered.

He was almost taken aback by the lack of authority in your voice. It was a tone they weren’t used to hearing from you. A tone of near defeat. Steve was conflicted. You had just been through possibly the worst thing he has ever personally witnessed and he didn’t want to push it. But if it helped your or Bucky then he kind of really needed to know. He looked at Wanda, knowing she was reading his mind. She gave him the most miniscule nod before speaking in a very sweet tone.

“Whatever you’re afraid of everyone knowing, we can help. You have no need to be scared.”

You scoffed. “I’m not afraid of him or any of you. I do not want to be held responsible for breaking Sergeant Barnes.”

“I think it’s a bit too late for that,” Tony said, finally finding his voice. “We’ve seen enough HYDRA footage to reach that decision of our own. But if it makes you feel better then Manchurian Candidate never has to know what you tell us. You can talk to just Wanda or Nick or whoever. The only person you can’t avoid knowing is the leader of this team who is, unfortunately, Capsicle. But he won’t tell Barnes, will he?”

Steve nodded with the utmost seriousness. “I promise.”

It was like your entire body shut down. When did they see any footage from the facility? How could they be treating you the way they had if they had seen anything? You had made your peace with your past and how it would blend into this new present but that was when you were operating under a different level of assumptions. Carefully, Nick and Maria inched their fingers towards their holsters as they watched your face scrunch up in anger. Frantically, you scrambled for the dog tags hidden under your clothes.

“So, has it been you this entire time then? Even those times you terrorized me at night?” you spat at Bucky with more vitriol and emotion than the entire team had seen before. “I spent hours rationalizing it was him and not you. Those nightmares might have been one thing but I thought even your real mind was too damaged by HYDRA for you to remember the truth. Yet, you’re saying it’s you? You’ve seen the records and you chose to treat me like this? Not the Asset. Not Soldat. Not even Sergeant Barnes. You, James Buchanan Barnes? Fuck you, Bucky.”

You threw the dog tags at his face before storming back to the resident area of the tower, choosing the stairs so no one could try to intercept you on the elevator. For once, you didn’t give a shit how many times FRIDAY alerted Tony that you were on the stairs of some levels you weren’t authorized to be on yet. You didn’t stop walking until you reached the residential area again, ending up on the balcony to try and calm yourself with the fresh air.

The Avengers sat in the meeting room confused. No one had ever seen that much emotion from you before. But they couldn’t figure out what had upset you, especially if you weren’t upset about the winter soldier’s nightmares. Almost afraid, Bucky grabbed the jewelry you threw at him. It slipped from his fingers instantly and landed on the table with a sharp clanking that pierced his ears.

“What is it?” Sam reached for the metal his friend now refused to touch. Two wedding rings and a small engagement ring flanked either side of the two dog tags. Sam flipped the flat pieces of metal over. “James B. Barnes. Y/N M/I L/N… What the actual fuck is going on?”

“Bring me Zemo,” Bucky said, darkly.

Despite being in handcuffs, the man’s face held a smirk that didn’t break even when Sharon harshly forced him into the empty chair. A growl nearly ripped through Bucky’s throat when Zemo started clapping.

“I take it you finally figured it out, Sergeant Barnes. I admit, you took much longer than I thought. I suppose they fried your brain even more than I believed.”

“Why?”

“I told you already. I don’t care for super soldiers, righteous or otherwise. I might hate supposed superheroes even more. Y/N happened to have helped keep one alive all these years when she should have just let you die. Don’t get me wrong, she might be the only person with powers I like, dare I say maybe care for. But small sacrifices must be made.”

“You knew we’d eventually figure it out,” Steve muttered.

“I had hoped for the winter soldier’s mind to be more fractured beforehand… There’s still time.”

Natasha was seconds away from wanting to kill Zemo right where he sat. They had isolated you for months over what was looking more like a lie by the second. She had slapped you clear across the face on her first day of meeting you.

“What did you do with the real footage?”

“Flitted through whatever pieces I found could fit a narrative, hid the parts that didn’t fit, only focused on one angle of the cctv. It wasn’t that difficult to get you all to fa—”

“Where’s the real footage?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly bring it all with me when I was arrested.”

“Do you have the real footage of what you showed us?”

Nick slammed Zemo’s head into the table when he refused to answer. Trying to ignore the blood running from his nose, Zemo eventually relented. The director called in for another SHIELD agent while Tony intently watched Zemo to make sure he wasn’t trying to pull a fast one on them again as he recovered the footage.

“Get a team back to the Siberian facility. Scour it for footage. It’s solely a recovery job. Get in and out as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, sir.”

Fury turned back to the team. “Are we ready?”

Tony watched the screen flicker for a moment before nodding. “FRIDAY has run all the footage we currently have through her system. Just press play on the remote.”

Despite the fact that they were ready, they hesitated to actually start. What if more of the footage resembled Bucky’s winter soldier nightmares? That wasn’t something they were eager to relive again, let alone so soon. With a roll of his eyes, Zemo pressed the play button. The team stared at a scene that seemed so familiar already, hesitant at what new information they might be gathering.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you said as you walked past Bucky’s shower stall.

Instead of staying on you, a second cctv video started to play alongside what they had seen from the original video.

Bucky wasn’t stoic at all. His body didn’t move but a smile graced his face.

“Are you just going to stand there the entire time and watch me like a creep?”

“If I want to admire you, soldier, I can.” Your voice was light and jovial.

“Well, doctor, if you’re going to keep staring at me, can you at least check for injuries?”

“Does something hurt?” There was a hint of serious inquiry in your tone.

Bucky turned ever so slightly, smirk still plastered on his face. “My last mission was really hard. I think I still might be affected by how hard it was.”

You rolled your eyes at the cheesy line but began shrugging off your lab coat anyway. “Well, a doctor’s touch should heal you right up.”

“I was hoping you might say that, doc.”

In the meeting room, everyone was slowly turning a shade of red or feeling warmth heat up their faces. Bucky tried to look everywhere else but the screen. However, he kept locking eyes with various teammates and resolved himself to just stare at his tea instead. Tony stopped fixing his cup of shitty breakroom coffee, whipping around to face the screen.

“Hold on, were you two actually fucking roleplaying? That’s what that was?”

“It would appear so.” Bucky felt his ears go hot when a familiar part of the audio returned.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Sarge. Maybe they should send you on more of these hard missions so I can come see you. I didn’t know you were so well endowed.”

This time, Bucky wanted to leave the room for an entirely different set of reasons. He never thought there would be a day where his bedroom fantasies were broadcasted past Wanda accidentally reading his mind at inopportune moments. He almost wished it had been one of those times. At least he and Steve weren’t into this embarrassing roleplay that everyone was witnessing right now.

“I’m sorry to have met your acquaintance only recently, doc,” Bucky said through a moan. “Rest assured, I’ll keep coming to your office after all my hard missions now that we’ve met.”

“I’d like that… I missed you, James.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart. But if you keep touching me like this, I’m not gonna last long enough to return the favor.”

“I thought you’d be tired. You just got back.”

Bucky finally turned around, stopping centimeters from your lips. “I’m never tired when it comes to you, only bright spot in this shitty little nazi den.”

You gasped. “Buck! What if someone hears you? They’ll wipe you again.”

“Wipe me for what… it happened again, didn’t it?”

You nodded, thumbs caressing his face. He shuddered underneath you before sighing.

“I guess it won’t be long before they send me to the machine. I’m sorry if I forget you for a few days like last time.”

“As long as you come back to me safe. Relatively safe,” you amended when he gave you a look.

Bucky smiled. “Well, if I don’t have too long before another trip to the frying pan… Think it’s time to start seeing if this hunk of metal can bring you some pleasure. You’d like that?”

Tony cleared his throat awkwardly as he sat back down with a now prepared cup of coffee. “Well, I’m glad you two found some levity. No matter how much I wish to scrub my memory of this foreplay.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Bucky muttered, cringing as he heard himself asking you to finish all over his fingers. “FRIDAY, we can go ahead and skip the rest of this one. I don’t think we’ll find anything else of importance.”

“Certainly, Sergeant Barnes. However, there is probably one more bit that might be of some significance.”

Reluctantly, Bucky told the system to keep playing the video if it really was super important but to skip as much of the intimacy as she could.

Bucky smiled as you both got redressed, watching you intently. You pulled your necklace you had taken off to shower with him from your lab coat pocket. Tilting it ever so slightly, you let the rings slip off the necklace along with one of the three dog tags. Bucky plucked one of the plain rings from your hand with grace, smiling as he put it on his right hand.

“Thanks for keeping it safe for me, doll.”

“I always will.”

Bucky pulled you to his chest, giving you another kiss before you both left the showers. The two of you walked towards the garages hand in hand. With a suaveness that hadn’t been seen since he was in the 40s, Bucky held open the car door for you.

“Hate that I had to take a shower outside my own home,” Bucky said as he reversed out of his parking spot. “Sorry you had to drive down here, sweetheart.”

You shrugged. “I don’t mind. As long as it stops you from tracking blood through the house.”

“I would have cleaned it up, promise.”

The drive was only a few minutes but you and Bucky made those minutes stretch, including the time it took the elevator to reach the floor with your apartment on it. Giggles couldn’t stop pouring from your mouth when you were lifted off of your feet and carried bridal style out of the elevator. Bucky wouldn’t listen to your laughter filled requests to put you down. He opened the door with one hand, shutting it with his foot once you were both safe inside.

“What would you like to do tonight?” you asked him, accepting that he wasn’t going to set you down until he was ready.

“Well, I would love to ravish my beautiful wife until the sun comes up but I don’t think she’d let me.”

“You got that right, Sergeant. But maybe I’ll consider a few hours. After dinner, of course.”

“Then I’ll go heat up some of that chicken noodle soup we made a few days ago. And can I request that you, Mrs. Barnes, go put on your favorite lingerie and one of my button downs? I’ve been dreaming about that for a few days now.”

“I think I can make that happen, Mr. Barnes. I might even throw on one of your favorites.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Bucky wanted the ground to swallow him whole. No one had anything to say. Wanda kept rewinding the last few minutes, hearing those few sentences repeated over and over again. Bucky squeezed the necklace that had been resting in his hand since they brought Zemo up to the meeting room.

“FRIDAY, please just play the next one,” he whispered. It was the only thing he could do to keep himself from leaving to go find you.

“Are you sure?” Zemo asked, making Bucky look over at him. “Sergeant Barnes, you were very different as the winter soldier. Even with Y/N.”

“Just play the damn thing.”

You were kneeling outside on the balcony in nothing but a thin lingerie dress. The rain beat down on your shivering skin. It was like you were afraid to look up from where you hugged your own body to keep warm. The sound of heavy footsteps reached your ears.

“Can I please come back inside? Please, Buc—Soldier?”

He didn’t answer you, not that he could with the mask still on the lower half of his face. But the man made no moves to remove it.

Bucky felt his heart shatter, bile rising in his throat, as you kept trying to apologize for whatever you did wrong while the winter soldier simply ignored you. Steve took large, slow nods.

“That’s why she didn’t want to get off the quinjet.”

“It’s your favorite way to punish her,” Zemo said as he sat back with a satisfied smile. “I noticed that throughout the tapes. The soldier always went back to this one. The rain or snowfall, minimal to no clothing, out there until you let her back in. Sometimes you weren’t even watching her, just left her out there.”

“Stop,” Bucky murmured weakly, eyes never leaving the screen.

“You always chose to have her just on the brink of collapse. I suppose that makes the threat more real. You know, if you were feeling extra cruel, you would put her straight in the shower after being out there. Hot water. Never hot enough to burn but it certainly must have felt like it, especially after the snow.”

“Just stop!”

Your self-soothing was rather loud. Roughly, you kept wiping at your eyes to try and stop the tears while telling yourself to breathe and calm down.

“It’s not Bucky,” you whispered. “It’s not Bucky. You’re fine… you’re fine, Y/N. It’s not Bucky so he can’t be talked to like him.”

With stiff joints, you moved yourself to sit against the balcony guardrails.

“It’s getting rusty.”

The soldier looked down at his metal arm before returning his gaze to you.

“If I have to replace it, you will get another punishment…” You sighed as Bucky simply ran a finger over all the metal plates, another plea falling on deaf ears. “They can’t have you performing in the field in a compromised manner. They’ve said this to you multiple times now. Let’s go inside and I’ll work on you instead of Karpov.”

Bucky sniffled at the added context. He watched the soldier nod and finally hold open the door for you. The rest of the video didn’t matter to the brunette. He didn’t need to see it to figure out how the context changed. You weren’t requesting time in cryo because you were sick of the soldier.

You were scared and needed your own recovery time. Because of something he did to you. It was all he could think about. Bucky almost didn’t register the videos were over until he heard Nick tell Maria to make a phone call to Ross and Steve question something.

“But if she stays here… what if Buck’s nightmares make him hurt her again?” Steve argued.

“Now that we have gotten some glimpses of the truth, I believe the soldier’s anger towards what he perceived was Miss L/N will be mitigated or gone entirely. FRIDAY monitoring Mr. Barnes’ whereabouts could give peace of mind. But I believe moving her could do more harm,” Dr. Myers said.

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

The doctor started packing up the new file he created for you. “Be gentle with Y/N. That’s about the best we can do until further examination. And please do not change the decor of the resident area too much, really the entire tower should stay relatively the same. Her environment should be stable unless she is the one to actively make changes. She needs a routine. Like her days at HYDRA, only healthier. And I’m recommending that she no longer accompanies you all on missions unless absolutely necessary. Even then, she should stay in the quinjet.”

“Anything else?”

“Oh, comfort. She should be given the option of comfort. Don’t bring it into her room. Let her do that herself but it should be there.”

Everyone nodded at his suggestion. They could do that. Tony wasn’t even planning on any major redecorations for a while. He was already texting Pepper to pick you up a long list of what Dr. Myers suggested as well as going into FRIDAY’s system to remove all the restrictions that had been placed on your living situations.

“Buck, where are you at?” Wanda asked gently after Dr. Myers exited.

“I hurt the one good person I had in there. I had a wife. I had a wife and I hurt her.” The crack in his voice was unmistakable.

“Bucky…”

He pulled away from Sam’s touch. No one was sure of what to say. Sometimes it was best to let Bucky rationalize and process all by himself. Especially when it came to HYDRA. But this was different and the team wasn’t sure if leaving him to simmer in his own thoughts was a good idea. Even after Maria, Sharon, Nick, and Zemo had left, the team stayed with Bucky. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there but it felt like it was at least an hour before he was able to rise from the meeting chair. He needed to find you and talk.

The rain had started about fifteen minutes after you had initially stepped onto the balcony. Practically running, you tried to open the door. It wouldn’t budge. Fear ran up your spine at the sudden remembering you technically didn’t have permission to be here yet and your thumbprint wasn’t yet accepted by the lock. Your breathing got shallower as you tried to yank the door off of its hinges. You started calling out to every person on the team even though no one was in your field of vision. It was the only thing you could do at the moment to not completely shut down.

Bucky was in his head as they returned to the resident area. He wanted to talk to you. Had to. Although, what he was going to say, he was absolutely unsure of. His ears perked up at the sound of crying.

The brunette ran when he caught sight of you pounding against the glass of the building, pleasing to be let back inside. The terrace door nearly flew off with the force he used to open it. You shook hard as he held you close, bringing you to the safety of inside. Your fist pounded at your chest in a poor attempt to regulate your breathing again but it wasn’t working.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, teeth chattering the entire time. “I’m sorry for whatever I did, Bucky. Please don’t make me go back out there. Please. I’ll be good. I promise.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He rocked you both back and forth. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You did nothing wrong. Come on, let’s get you out of these soaked clothes.”

The bloodcurdling scream you let out the moment he tried to help you up made Bucky accidentally drop you.

“No! Please don’t take me back out there. Soldier, please!”

Bucky stepped back with a vengeance, hands up to try and make himself seem like less of a threat. He moved out of the way when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Sam crouched down to your level, holding you by both of the shoulders and doing very exaggerated breaths.

“You’re cold, aren’t you?”

You nodded, teeth still chattering.

“These clothes can’t be comfortable any more. I can fix that if you want.”

Sam thanked Steve as he took the large towel from the man. He wrapped it around you, rubbing your arms to warm you up a bit. You took his hand after some careful consideration, letting him help you get to your feet. Your breathing was still unstable. Everyone watched you take in large gulps of air as if you were drowning.

“Nat and Wanda are going to help you get into something dry and warm. Is that okay?”

Your eyes flitted over to Bucky. Without missing a beat, Sam stepped in front of him.

“Hey, hey, look at me. He’s not going to do anything, alright? No one is taking you back to the terrace.”

You wouldn’t move, still staring at Bucky. The super soldier sighed, patting Sam on the shoulder so the other man could move aside. The rest of the team held their breath as he approached you. Even if he didn’t like to speak it, he never forgot a single word of Russian he learned.

“Let’s go. The girls will put you in something warm, dry. Safe.”

He didn’t wait to see if you were following, knowing that wasn’t going to help. Bucky’s ears were tuned into you though. He finally breathed when he heard the sounds of your footsteps moving towards him. Nat and Wanda were quick to follow.

✭

part 4

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