#mindcontrol!bucky x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

saynotoshityouhate · 4 years ago

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Taking Back Control

Summary: Bucky’s owning his traumatic narrative and taking his life into his own hands. I’m not sure his therapist would approve.

Word Count: 1,549

Tags/Warnings: Poor stress relief tips, Mind Control, dom!bucky, trauma, therapy, oral (male receiving), facial (not the kind you get at the spa), aftercare

Bucky had texted you as he got ready to leave the office.

I’ll be home in thirty minutes. Prepare yourself.

You had been eating a pint of Ben & Jerry’s on the couch, still in your PJs, when your phone chimed. “Fuck!” You read the text and scrambled to stand up. You rushed to clean up your mess from earlier before jumping into the shower. He expected you to be squeaky clean before he’d lay even his mechanical hand on you. You also set up your aftercare supplies, making it as easy for Bucky to take care of you as possible. With nervous excitement, you put on his favorite lacy, black lingerie that made you look like a sexy assassin. It was sorta his thing.

Bucky got into his blacked out Mercedes and raced home. He had a really difficult day at work and knowing he’d be able to see you and have some control over something today was already providing him with some relief. After “graduating” from Wakanda and his Winter Soldier related trauma, he sought to take life into his own two hands - especially the vibranium one. He began learning the science behind mind control - similar to what was utilized on him. You two had been dating for two years at that time, and looking for a way to spice things up in the bedroom. Bucky brought the idea of erotic mind control to you one night, explaining how everything would work, and why it was important for him to try as part of his healing process. He walked you through all of the ground rules and was open to hearing all of your questions and concerns. You loved him and were willing to try anything once.

Well, one time turned into two, and two turned into three. Now, about a year later, you were going under once a month, for no longer than an hour. He was extremely protective of you, regardless of the pleasure it brought him. You noticed a difference in him, a calmness that wasn’t always present in stressful times earlier in your relationship. He was never hurtful towards you, of course not, but his coping mechanisms for the loudness in his head weren’t healthy either. This allowed him to take back his own narrative and process his internal struggles with you by his side.

You resumed your movie, as if nothing had changed from earlier, the pint of Hunka Hulka Burnin Fudge almost empty. Nothing had changed other than your outfit and the butterflies in your stomach. Bucky liked you to be calm and relaxed before getting started - not anxious or uncomfortable. He found it to be easier to implement the triggers when you were more comfortable.

Bucky pulled into the driveway, nervously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He took a deep breath and exited, walking towards the front door. He carried the stress of the day in his shoulders, draped in an exquisite blue suit and crisp white dress shirt. He had already removed his tie in the car, opening the top two buttons. He ran his hands through his hair before walking inside.

Your eyes got wide seeing him walk through the door. You smiled at him, face turning to concern as he ignored you, kicking off his dress shoes and whipping off his suit coat. You could see the tension rippling through his back muscles underneath the white button down. He looked back at you and whipped his mechanical arm around, as if to stretch the shoulder joint in preparation. You sat up straighter at that, adjusting the lingerie that had shifted as you lounged on the couch.

Moving his eyes over to you, his gaze softened as he looked you over. You really were beautiful, he knew that from the first time he saw you. “Ready?” He asked, giving you one last chance to back out of the evening’s activities. You nodded your head in agreement as he made his way over to you. “You know I need to hear you say it, doll. Use those pretty words of yours.” He looked down at you, one eyebrow raised sternly. “Yes, Mr. Barnes. I am ready.” You winked at him. He sat down next to you on the couch, taking both of your hands into his and looked directly into your eyes. His crystal blue eyes were hidden by the darkest black pupils, highlighted by bloodshot whites indicating his increased stress level. “I love you,” he stated clearly, squeezing your hands in punctuation. “I love you too, Buck.” “Alright, let’s begin.”

“Rain.” The smell of an impending rainstorm was one of your favorite things.

“Fern.” The first gift Bucky got you for your birthday, when you thought you had a green thumb.

“Crewneck.” The sweatshirt Bucky lets you wear to bed that smells like him.

“Nashville.” Your favorite city in the world and first place you and Bucky went on vacation together.

“Butterfly.” The tattoo on your right shoulder you got on a drunken night out in college.

“Subway.” The place Bucky told you he loved you for the first time.

“Doll?” Bucky cocked his head to the side, looking into your eyes to see if you were still awake.

“Ready to comply.”

Your body was relaxed, but at attention. You maintained your eye contact with Bucky, awaiting instructions. Looking at his wrist watch to note the time, he gave your hands a final squeeze. Standing up, he brought you with him. “Remove my clothing.” “Yes, Mr. Barnes.”

You dropped his hands and began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. You pulled it from his arms and shoulders before neatly folding it and placing it on the coffee table. You repeated this step for his undershirt before unbuckling his belt and placing that to the side. “Kneel,” he commanded. “Yes, Mr. Barnes.” Moving to your knees, you unbuttoned his dress pants. Moving the zipper downward, Bucky’s hips jutted forward with just the slightest touch of your fingers on his hardened length. You slid his pants downwards, and while still on your knees, you helped him step out of the pants and folded them as well. Placing them to the side, Bucky became inpatient. “Quicker movements, doll.” You snapped to attention. “Yes, Mr. Barnes.” Grabbing the waistband of his boxers, you ripped them down his legs, freeing his cock in the process. Bucky groaned as you resumed your folding and placing of clothing items.

“Open your mouth.” “Yes, Mr. Barnes.” Your jaw relaxed, and wasting no time Bucky moved himself into your warm, salivating mouth. Bucky moaned, his head lolling back. He absolutely loved this feeling. He moved his hands to the back of your head, gently moving you in time with his hip thrusts. You gagged, eyes watering and saliva pooling in the corners of your mouth. Even under mind control, your body wasn’t made to handle his size and strength. “Play with my balls,” Bucky grunted, sensing he was getting close. “Yeff, Merrr Brunss,” you replied, mouth too full to clearly speak but still following your directives. You moved your right hand underneath him, feeling for his warm, tightening balls, which you kneaded and squeezed. “Fuuuuck yes, doll, you feel so good,” Bucky moaned, his hips stuttering with the new sensation.

“Prepare yourself.” Bucky growled the command. Mumbling your acknowledgment, you moved your hand from his balls and placed them on your thighs. You sat back on your heels, his cock falling from your mouth along with a mixture of saliva and pre-cum. You leaned your head back slightly, closing your eyes and keeping your mouth open. Bucky moved his mechanical hand up and down his shaft, gazing with hazy eyes upon his compliant, beautiful doll. How did he possibly get so lucky to have a woman like you to love. And with that thought, Bucky groaned, painting your face with his load. You stayed still, waiting for your next direction, despite the cum dripping into the corners of your eyes and falling from your chin onto your chest.

Bucky looked at his watch. It hadn’t been an hour yet, but he was already exhausted from the day. He was ready for you to come back to him, the real you. Bucky reached over to the side table, where you had placed water and towels before he got home. He handed you a wet towel. “Clean off your face.” “Yes, Mr. Barnes.”

After wiping your face clean, Bucky lifted you to a standing position. Holding your hands, he walked you over to the couch, where he began reciting your trigger words in the opposite order.

“Doll? Come back to me, doll.” You smiled up at him, his shoulders sloped downwards, a sheen across his forehead and chest from the exertion. “Hi.” Bucky leaned in, kissing you deeply. “How do you feel, are you okay?” He held your face in his hands as he wiped away some leftover spend from your cheeks. “Of course, darling,” you replied. “I’m going to go wash my face. You get dressed and then we’ll have some dinner, okay?” He smiled and squeezed your hands again as you stood up to walk away.

You chuckled to yourself as you entered the bathroom. He’d never find out you were never really under his control.

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