#genuinely so mad about this but ive still gotta sit my ass down and pull tonight

[w1f1n1ghtm4r3]

lets give it up for akikoha summer fes two years in a row yaaaaay (visibly in agony)

[bitchassbucky]

.zip

Word Count: 2k

Warning/s: toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, gaslighting and manipulation, abduction, injuries were mentioned, stalking, dark!bucky x dark!reader, emotionally/mentally unstable!reader, dismemberment (not gore-y but still), three very special character mentions, shady corporate stuff, career sabotage?, food mention, sedation/drugging, f-words.

A/N: oh my god, this is the final chapter of CTRL. to all who read from the start, thank y'all so fucking much - from the bottom of my big-ass heart, thank you so much for coming along with this journey. this is my first FINISHED series, oh my god. to @babyboibucky (CTRL's number one fan), @sarge-barnes-sir, and @borikenlove thank you so much for indulging my inner degenerate GHJSDFG and for screaming (affectionately) at me when i first let y'all read the finished draft.

BUT THIS IS NOT THE END (just yet), i will be uploading TWO epilogues very soon: the explicit version and the not-so-explicit version. stay tuned!

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

epilogue:

.eps (explicit)

.eps (cut)

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Your demeanor, character, even tone, changed.

Calculated, cold, unnerving.

But you sat there like a housewife in front of her husband, eating spaghetti and meatballs. Acting all dandy like there isn’t a man strapped onto the chair four feet away from you.

“C’mon, darling, eat! I made your favorite,” your eyes twinkled as Bucky helplessly tugged on his restraints, “oh, sorry, you’re tied up.”

Hm, sick in the head, bad for the heart.

“What do you want?” Oh, wow, even talking hurts for him. His throat is all dried up, he tasted something bitter under his tongue.

You chuckled, moving half a meatball around your mostly empty plate, “for you to stop treating me like I’m stupid.” You spear the meat with your fork, swirling it in the sauce, “I know you’ve been… checking in on me, Bucky.”

Oh, fuck.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was-- I mean, look at you--” He’s making it worse. You’re mad. You’re angry because he was being a good friend.

He only did that because you were lonely and he’s right: you are lonely.

So lonely that you’re willing to kidnap a grown man to keep you company, “I’m so sad for you.”

“You’re aware you’re the one’s been tied up, right?” You’re curt as you should be, scooting over near Bucky to feed him.

“I can’t eat that—” If he wasn’t sitting down and tied, Bucky would’ve vaulted over you and called the neighbors, she’s fucking crazy!

You giggled, rolling your eyes as if he had the freedom to make a choice right now, “if you’re thinking of screaming… More than half of my neighbors are felons or on parole, I doubt that they’ll call 911.”

Jutting forward the fork, you let the prongs gently touch Bucky’s lips, “now, eat! We have so much to talk about.”

“No. I don’t-- I’m not hungry.” He shakes his head, the fork hitting his chin and clanking down the floor.

“Just eat the fucking food, Steve!”

Bucky flinched at your sudden outburst. The words—the name—seeping in a moment later. Steve? Who the hell is Steve? Was he your husband? Boyfriend? His head throbbed again, his mouth filling with saliva like he’s about to throw up.

You kneel down, pulling a napkin from the table to wipe the meat and the sauce from the floor.

“This better not stain.”

—

He promised thrice.

Once over pasta and meatballs, once over dessert, and once when you were clearing the table.

You relented, of course. Half because you love him and half because it’s getting annoying.

“As long as you don’t leave me, okay?”

“Yes, I promise. I won’t leave you.”

Bucky’s still seating on the dinner chair, slightly slumped without the ropes holding him up, “look, I’m really sorry about the anesthetic, I went overboard with it.” You look over to him—at least he’s regaining his fingers and arms again.

“It’s okay, babe, I wouldn’t trust me either.” If he could stand up, he’d go over and hug you. Helping with the dishes, peppering you with sweet kisses.

A genuine laugh slips out of your lips, “ugh, still… I’m really sorry.”

The last of the plates were neatly stacked, cups and cutleries were placed gently on a drying rack. It was getting late, you could tell.

“I’m not mad, by the way.” You muse, prompting Bucky to lean forward, listening to you.

“What do you mean?” He takes your hand into his, ever so gently.

“You did that,” you squeeze his hand back, gazing into his soulful eyes, “because you love me.”

Did you know that some people could read microexpressions well? Bucky went through a whole lot of them before answering, “of course, I do.”

Contemplating whether you call him out on it or not, you hum, placing a gentle hand on his jaw, “it’s okay, you’ll learn how to love me.”

He has to. He has no other choice.

Bucky clears his throat, “have you seen my phone?” His tone was hopeful, upbeat, maybe he can reach out to someone, anyone, before you can do any more damage.

“Yeah, ‘s on the couch.”

He tried to move, he really did. Bucky’s fairly strong, he can bench an easy 140 on a good day. But even the beefiest motherfuckers have no match for Propofol.

“Don’t worry about your friends, they’re not worried about you, Buck.” The coolness of your tone sends Bucky into a panic—again. “D’you wanna check your messages though? There’s a lot of ‘em.”

Grabbing his phone, you asked Siri to read him his latest notifications.

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

From Joaquin: Where are you, man?

From John W.: Do you have copies?

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

Urgent: Gross Misconduct

From Joaquin: Bucky, what the fuck?

From Samuel Wilson: Pick up the phone, Barnes. You’re fired.

17 missed calls from an unknown number

From John W.: I knew you were a freak but holy shit, dude!

72 text messages from an unknown number

Bucky never really liked horror movies. It made him jumpy and anxious. Too paranoid, even. But now? Now he’s sure that people have never experienced sheer fright before.

His toes cramped inside his boots, his feet were cold, sweating. The little hairs on his legs stood up, goosebumps littering the entirety of his body. If he held his breath, he’s sure he could hear his heart hammering out of his chest. The blood rushes past his ears and onto the base of his skull—he’s gonna be sick.

“What,” he gulped back the saliva pooling in his mouth, “what did you do?”

You’re irritatingly calm, “well, I mean… We’re already together, what do you need those for, right?”

Putting a warm hand over his forehead, you cooed, “poor thing, you look sick.”

—

Bucky thinks it’s well past midnight when the anesthetic wore off.

His limbs were heavy, he had to lean on the wall every couple of steps to regain his balance. Helpless. He’s helpless and you both know it. As if it’s a bear trap, Bucky carefully took his phone from the coffee table.

Why would you leave it unattended?

The screen lights up as soon as he picked up, his lock screen littered with ‘fuck yous’, ‘sicko’, and his personal favorite, ‘motherfucker.’

Ignoring the glaring messages, he went straight for the emergency dialler and—you took out his SIM card, snapping it into two neat pieces, placing it beside the phone.

Bitch.

The golden surface of the card was scratched too, he can’t do anything, use it as a toothpick, maybe? His phone was just as good as a paperweight.

He looks out of the window, limping towards it. Even if he could climb over, it would take him forever to get onto the street. Your neighbors would probably think that he’s just on a bad trip.

“It’s bolted shut. Perks of living alone as a single female.” Your voice made him flinch back, like a kid whose hand was halfway down the cookie jar.

Bucky plays it off with a cough, he can’t be weak now, “no, babe, I was checking out a noise. You ready for bed?”

You smiled softly, taking his hand and draping his arm on your shoulders as you prop him against you, “almost, big guy. Gotta get you settled in bed first. Are you tired?”

Nodding, Bucky kisses your temple, “yeah.” He just needs to play with your sick little games until he regains his strength.

Where would he go? His reputation and his job are besmirched, his apartment is probably crawling with forensics too.

“You fell down and banged your head earlier. Nasty cut on your head too. I told you to not tire yourself much.”

You hit and drugged me but I digress, “Yes, darling. ‘M sorry.”

“You scared me, Buck. I thought you were dead.” Are these tears forming in your eyes?

“I’m not leaving you, not by any chance. I promise.”

He promises a fourth time.

—

Your bedroom was bigger than he thought. But of course, he only saw your desk and your bed through the webcam.

Save from the Ted Bundy-esque corkboard you have in front of your workspace, he feels weirdly at home. You tucked him in, reminding him to wake up every two hours for the painkillers.

“You’re not going to bed?” He muses from behind you, all cocooned in your blankets.

“Just need to take this phone call real quick, babe.” Your back was turned from him as you work on your company laptop. He noticed that the webcam is covered with white tape.

The sound of an incoming call filled the room before you quickly answer it, your voice turning hoarse and raspy as if you’ve been crying.

Hi, Mr. Wilson. I’m so sorry for the late call. Do I- do I need to come in tomorrow? I just... I don’t feel comfortable facing everyone—I used all my home hours this week and—

Miss L/N, I’m glad you reached out to me. Is it okay if I record this call for security purposes? It’s just for you, me, and the HR department.

You turned to Bucky, your face is stone-cold but your voice belonged to someone so utterly helpless.

No, you don’t have to call into work tomorrow… Or any other day.

A dainty gasp and a fucking sob comes out of your mouth, your eyes were telling a different story.

Am I fired?

God, no. Please, Miss L/N, don’t worry about that. We want you with us through this entire debacle. We want you to take some time off—paid. We’ll also grant you… a grievance package.

You could almost hear what he would say next.

As long as you don’t talk to any members of the press or any journalists until our friends in the PR department can clean this up.

A triumphant smile creeps on your bare features, putting a finger in front of your lips, you mimic a ‘shh’ gesture to Bucky.

You round up another mirthless sob as the CEO drones on about the bureaucracy of this whole thing.

He was really nice to me, you know? He took me out on dinners and lunches. He even brought me to his place and I– nothing happened but I can’t stop thinking about it.

I’m really sorry, Miss L/N. I thought he was…

A good guy? I really thought so too.

Please stay offline for a bit, just for the weekend, alright? Someone from the HR department will be in touch with you for the process. We don’t wanna be a hassle more than what Barnes is. On our behalf, please accept our deepest apologies.

Jesus, this guy had the PR department cook up an apology letter.

Thank you—thank you so much, Mr. Wilson. I’ll keep in touch.

You burst out in laughter a second after the call ended. Hearty laughter, the one where you can feel your belly tightening.

“Did you hear how good I was, baby? Oh my god, we had them fooled.”

We? Fuck your ‘we.’

You slide over the covers, propping up yourself with your elbow as you turn to face Bucky, “don’t worry, you don’t need them anymore. You have me, yeah? We have each other.”

—

Out of the most bizarre things that happened to him last week, finding dismembered fingers in the fridge was the least of his concerns.

“Honey!” Bucky calls out, holding the ziplock bag with a pair of tongs.

You bound down the stairs, your laptop in hand as you squint, “what am I looking at?”

Bucky hesitated, maybe he’s going insane too, “fingers. Dismembered fingers—are these yours?”

Setting down the laptop onto the table, you peck him on the cheek, smiling as if him holding a baggie with human remains is just your Sunday normal, “god, I hope not. I need my hands to do things.”

As soon as you look back at him, you dropped the facade: “those are Steve’s. Well, used to be.”

Bucky’s afraid to ask the question where’s the rest of him?

“You know the term pinky promise, right? Well, it has a dark origin.”

Just as fast as a bustling train, Bucky rakes his brain for all the times he promised you something. Hoping that he won’t end up with a stump for a hand.

One vividly bright memory is seared into his brain though, the days blurred together with sharp edges and mismatched colors: we love how we were taught to love.

So, who taught you how to love like this?

[mrfreezebug]

Idk I’ve mentioned a few shitty exes in passing before. But I never go into detail. And idk man due to recent events I’m just gonna vent a little bit about a piece of emmett dating history. CW: Bad bad bad relationship things  tl;dr tl;dr tl;dr  s orry if you’re on mobile 

So like YEARS AGO I got technically broken up with 3 times over a three month period which resulted in me being stoned out of my mind for three weeks straight and shit faced when i wasn’t up all up there. I just felt horrible. And through all that... I managed to meet someone who seemed super chill, fun, and nice and junk. And while we were casually seeing each other I got to meet new people and swing with them a lil. It was super therapeutic and they seemed so open minded and like they knew themselves so well... and I was still so lonely that I thought even though I didn’t have feelings yet I admired the FUCK out of them in the moment and thought i could grow to really like them?? We talked about it a lot and they sounded super understanding. Even though they constantly asked if I was ready they kept telling me they wanted "easy” as much as I did... But once I let go of my apprehensions of getting with them officially...  It turned out to be a big mistake. SO shit happened and once we became official the person who I was seeing before who ghosted suddenly messaged me bein all “sorry babe” and I was all: “I gotta tell u something” And so I told them I was seeing someone else on accounta how they just ditched me for a month with no response. And they asked me who And I told them And they told me to get the fuck out that they were a trash person. They also guilted me for moving on. “I leave for a week and you’re already on to someone else??” like R U K I D D I N G M E and I thought they were just being a salty jealous piece of bitch so I told them to chill. But they wanted closure and I’m nice so I said ok to meeting up in person. But the person I was seeing currently said they feared for my safety and that I’d cheat on them with that person. (Needless 2say they did not like eachother) And I was just??? “I wouldn’t cheat and what sorta safety concerns r there” And they were all “they’ll rape you or something and I don’t want to date someone who puts themself in the position to be raped” That was a pretty big red flag lmfao.

I should have just told both them to fuck off then but Ive never learned to really just leave anyone like that before. Im way better at it now but before I didn’t want to break ties with the only person who seemed to want to be around me and make me happy at that moment... so I just ignored that gross comment and I just told the other person we couldn’t meet.

But sure enough that weird kinda controlling situation turned into 8months of a hellish relationship where they were just SCREAMING at me for EVERYTHING. Like they literally screamed all the time. There were more times I was being yelled at than not??? Other people often told them to even calm the fuck down in public. It was wild. The screaming bullshit got to the point where THEIR friends came to me to see if I was okay. They’d literally sit me down and ask me if they physically harmed me. Which, they didn’t but there were threats surrounding every time I forgot something or messed something up. Nothing like serious but, honestly? Who for real who says “it makes me want to smack you when you can’t remember basic things.” Thinking back to this rn is so shocking to me. Idk man.

A few times they would get way too into my face and I’d have to physically shove them away because it was too intense. Just yelling. Right in my face. I can’t even remember why they were yelling. They were just always over reacting over something small I did. It all blurred together at some point. I just know I was always either zoned the fuck out or crying.  They also would often brag about being able to make people cry also. Like “I can make anyone cry. I know what to say to I get to people the most.” And it’s fucking gross, as well as a common thing I’d run into with other friends n shit. Idk why controlling people always end up with my wimpy ass. BuT ANYWAY I also couldn’t use my computer, go to conventions, or see friends without dealing with their controlling ass. So that was also a bag of shit. My life was fucking MISERABLE Talking to them only got me so far. Like five minutes of potential mutual clarity in any situation before they’d go on a rant about their problems and it’d basically end with me saying sorry with no progress. And I was still so soft spoken then when I tried twice to break up w/them it failed. It makes me want to go back and SHAKE MYSELF like why did I put myself through that for THAT MANY MONTHS???  Another kicker: similar to my experiences with other partners I was coerced into sexual situations probably every other week tops?? By threatening to break up with me, or tell me that I suck as a partner, telling me I make them feel ugly, etc… shits fucking weird like here I was crying like 9/10 times they guilted me for not wanting sex, my face is fucking UGLY and they still wanted it?? SHIT MAN. I cried during sex a lot. It fucks with me to this day. My initial instinct is to be too afraid to say no to sex.

But they actually ended up breaking up with me bc I went to go hang out with a friend and not tell them. It was probably more of a threat to try to control me but I saw that opening and booked it so far away, man I went to Denny’s that night for the first time without worrying about upsetting them for not answering their texts right away. I actually felt BAD that I didn’t care tho?? It was dumb but this thing is still a bit of a problem for me. Even if logically they deserve to feel bad, I feel horrible for hurting anyones feelings. They seemed WAY torn up about the break up. I made some empty promises like an idiot. Telling them I’d see how I felt if they worked on their anger issues and shit. It was so fucked up when I was alone with them I felt so bad for them. I felt like I really hurt them or that I owed them something for the times they were nice to me and paid for my shit and whatnot. I also have trouble staying mad. I always just forgive and wanna move on. So we’d actually meet up with peeps at gay events n what not, I was friends with their friends at this point and I didn’t want to rock the boat with anyone even when they tried getting me back at the most random times. But I’m hella distant from people in general. It gets me into trouble with people I genuinely used to like let alone with people who stress me out lmao So they’d send me paragraphs of friendship break ups and delete me from everything then message me and try to readd me again and then get upset again that I don’t “check in on them” how “I don’t care about anyone but myself” and just all around stress me the fuck out. I just have a hard time checking in on people bc of various reasons. I’m working on my self confidence for it. And I don’t want to make people stay if that bothers them. So I just kinda let them come and go but the constant confrontation is STRESSFUL. It makes it harder to check in on anyone who pulls that shit tbh.

And NOW they’re trying to do it again after a few years and like I feel BAD again and like I should be over everything tbh it was YEARS AGO BUT I REALLY DONT WANT TO CARE ANYMORE.  IM KINDA PATHETIC T H E   E N D

[hayle64]

playing mercy with fatigue harvested thoughts from another rough night i was too in my head/paying no attention in since i was elsewhere getting compromised/almost making some pleasurable love with outdoor flashy lights that had one earring runnin incredibly wild (dont lose it again). first time inna long time im showing up all alone. not all the way by myself, i came along with him, him, the overgrown nigga whos playing tracks they’re finding themselves uncontrollably moving towards. a few songs, a couple less wus good’s, im here searching for a special to cure this over the top exhaustion i shouldn't have been feeling so soon. is this how im suppose to feel cause damn gravity’s hittin pretty heavy. signs to take as find you the bombay equinox, nigga you dont even really like this joint anyway. making it inside, rudely not seeing the who that was around me once quietly stepping forward. first cup and im already politely letting go when our hands touched. hope the, “sorry i didnt see you, go head thats all you, i’ll make that next one” was alright. she smiles which i took as it was alright. departing away just as quickly as i entered. finding this back of mines hugging/putting in that strong work against a friendly empty space. watching them all closely atta afar. tonguing a memory of first day’s i couldnt get a single somebody to lemme take a seat with em. biting my lip once i started realizing its now “do you know if ivy’s gonna make it”. biting down even harder cause the answers are probably sum like who knows when it comes to that nigga.. unfazed and defenseless by this muck of an imagination im touring through. wondering how much time had passed before i heard the question thrown in a room full madness. a calm “what do you want?” that violently spun chills throughout my core.. covering my face with my beaten bruised left. pressured dark palm of mines answering i want to leave here. but damn that was minutes ago n’ im still in that same empty space doing courses through my hair with these fingertips. placing a curious focus on the ceiling. my body strangely maybe appearing to be in waits for someone to comfortably grab,tug, pull on me with some urgency. always been in belief i was lost. ive been having dreams lately of a someone/something finding me witta genuine approach of theres this place im suppose to be. a place unbothered thats filled witta feel only i or we could understand (fuck).. im wondering off too much, guess im again in another place i've spent too much time caressing. stealing another sip of this sweet that sleeps within the bottom of the plastic cup. a taste no where close to that stay on your mind fountain you can find between carefully soft places she may called her private flower.. swaying to sound that was more than right to keep me a moment longer. started smiling to myself to some unpure idea i cant remember, but was deep enough i almost had dropped this almost emptied cup. starting to think i had too much, im feeling this touch around the arm that wasnt one from me. looking down to realize what was standing patiently in front for me to notice. braver around five’six asking the surface question of if im really enjoying this song. the color close to red that’d probably shown on my face if it wasnt for the dark pigment. it was more the simple record, i tend to take myself to other/nevermind unable to reply to whats she was asking from the green eyes and light mixed tribe skin that were nicely distracting. i was thinkin how long were you rite there, understanding later she had been watching since that bitter tropical drake song. if i payed more attention her eyes was making conversation when we both grabbed that same cup back then in that one room (buggin). innocent stalking from across the way. her friends, a few girls all pretending to not watch what could be talked upon inna later group text. time now passing from shared schools we both attend, and the fact she’s a nurse fora hospital i just happen to be born in. she doesnt do parties, this was a rare monday night cleanse. venue shows hosting small artist on the weekends her only real pleasure beside reading books from favorite chefs. she’s has an older sister who was also one of four watching. she wasnt as thick as the younger sister, or im meant close to me as her little sister, but i could easily see this family resemblance. “ivy what do you like to do?”, shit bashful thinking, jumping fences, getting a thick ass to sit up on it in reverse positions (my drinks almost completed, fuck). redness on her face before the “omg, ivyyyy seriously?” that had me thinking bout my recent ended relation.. i get it, i really get it, the last letter was y’ and like my ex always into dropping unnessecary questions before the panties, i can clearly see you will maybe be no different with the curiosity. eyes again prowling since theres a new expression on her face. they're waiting again for something to happen and god the darker me’s saying you know what you are make her overwhelmed by those few letters.. put in the action to get them all wet through a “thats what i need” universal connection. a mouthful with these hands, theres a reason for this attire. my types foever been the book girl in the small dark sundress (i fucks with the outfit). her lips moving, im thinking more than listening about her face in the dirties ways cause she had the nerve to come up to me without even knowing my name.. a gentle night to free the mind, she probably believes im smiling to whatever she's saying, but im afraid this precious lily doesnt gotta grasped on how rocky im tending to make this wave she’s provoking become. small talk and niggas who get the urge to touch whats mines/she was mines (chill save that for later), is some shit i cant put up it. crossroads with these building emotions that are taking over. i wanna aggressively choke you even if i just met you. telling myself lightly grab her throat n’ ask what was it you really desired from me. fuck the disguise, speak the truth, lemme know if theres an outcome to this night that i could give you what would it be.. romantics along paradise cove before the sun rises, or would you prefer getting bent in local parking lot, where your face was only kissing me/rear seat. ive been such a good nigga and this bitch got me feelin tempted. ima sick bastard unable to focus and i know she sees it. a working nurse huh?, well place the stitching near this wound around my heart. show me how precise those hands of yours really are. me and my ex never got the chance to play that part, i mean we did alotta things that if i told you, you probably take off and leave me (doubtful). she grabs my arm again, the shit to obviously bring that tragic back. asks that irritating line of “gimme you instagram”.. take a second and straight up say iight, but imma head out for minute (never came back, crashed near the water. had to uber to the homies to find the homie had tried to get with the other sister in the past, legendary)