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biteofcherry · 25 days ago

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Relish your scream

vampire!Bucky Barnes x female reader

summary: Better the devil you know, but what if going to the Scaretale with someone you're already acquainted with doesn't mean you're completely safe? What if the club isn't your doom, but merely enhances the darkness that was already setting its trap for you?

warnings: vampire!Bucky; dark!Bucky; heavy dub-con; mind compulsion; biting; blood sucking; blood play; forced public nudity (partial); oral (f receiving); sex; captivity; objectification as a kink; conditioning;

word count: 5.4k

Author's Note: I was a little disappointed you voted vampire for Bucky, because there are so many amazing stories with vampire Bucky and I feared I won't be able to create anything fresh. But I wrote it in a specific vibe, amping up the vampire bite into very debauched kind of blood play. Perhaps that can count as something new 😜 This story is the fifth one in the Scaretale universe.

The cab driver was insistent on stopping half a street away from the entrance to the club. He was one of those superstitious people who feared magic tricking him, or a monster luring him to his doom, if he found himself within Scaretale’s range.

You wanted to claim it’s silly, but the rumor was that the club was created and belonged to a dark fae. Who knows what their magic could do. Maybe the cabbie was right to keep his distance.

Unfortunately, for you it meant that you had to walk down the cracked pavement in your high heels to reach the club.

It dawned on you much earlier, soon after you agreed to the terms, that meeting him in a club catered to monsters wouldn’t really provide you any safety. It would be his domain while you felt on the edge for the whole evening. Or night. However long he decided it had to last.

But he had that smooth, dark charm about him, making it appear as a reasonable public space to collect the debt.

As you walked towards the impressive building, which glowed from within like a cursed castle, you tried to convince yourself that the place of your meeting didn’t matter anyway. You wouldn’t have any sort of upper hand no matter the place you sat in.

Because there was something about James Barnes that put you to attention at any given moment. As if your body was attuned to his presence. Like a deer may be aware of a wolf prowling nearby.

James was a coworker at the high levels of the international company you both worked for. And sort of a work rival, too.

He was courteous, always well mannered and classy. Dressed like that, too. He was driven at work, reaching each set goal with unwavering determination and skills. Honestly, you had reasons to admire him and admit he was fucking good at his job. Sometimes you inwardly joked that you want to be like James Barnes when you grow up.

There wasn’t really any competition between you two, none of you were threatened with the prospect of losing anything if the other’s department scored a few more points in the quarter.

It was the smidge of inadequacy that made you often eye Barnes as a threat. Coming out of your own insecurities, you suspected.

You were damn good at your job and at leading people. It’s just that you were… messy.

Not a complete disaster, but a little chaotic and sometimes lost, sometimes too soft, especially considering the sharks that swam in the ocean of legal (and illegal) deals you worked with.

Compared to Barnes, you were chaotic and bouncy.

But not everyone could stride through the room like a lethal blade slicing through fabric.

Barnes could.

Everything about him screamed danger, even when he offered a charming smile, or bought doughnuts for the whole floor. Though you watched people let down their guards around him, treating him like a harmless, cute man.

Was it only you that experienced that pulse of wariness whenever he walked into a room?

Perhaps, it was that aura of a vampire…

You’re still not sure what prompted you to bet him. Confrontations weren’t your preferred model of operating. Especially towards men you were both fascinated and scared of. Maybe you just wanted to prove to yourself that your bubbly style was as effective as Barnes’ cutthroat smoothness.

You veiled it as a team challenge (which both of your teams actually took as a fun twist to their usual hard work, including some subtle ribbing). If you won, you’d get to take over Barnes’ fancy office for a whole week.

It’s not like it would bother him much, since he worked evening to sunrise hours, while you were a day worker.

But you were the messy one and it made you giggle as you thought of leaving your usual chaos in his pristine space.

When you proposed that, Barnes held your gaze with those incredibly steel-blue eyes. Not a twitch of annoyance on his stupidly handsome face (that half of the skyscraper was pinning after). No, he was seizing you up and calculating his potential gain. Which made your pulse skip.

You still remembered how his eyes shifted to your pulse point and your thighs clenched as you thought of his teeth sinking into your neck.

He agreed to the bet, demanding your company, if he won.

Which he had.

There was a flood of tangled thoughts and doubts when you realized you agreed to be his for one night. Did he mean his night as his work day, making you do any assistant, slaving work just for the kicks? Or did he mean it as owning you for a night, as in…

His chuckle was like a tap on your cheek, stirring you from your trance when you barged into his office, needing him to explicitly state what exactly he expected of you. Then relief filled you when he explained that he wanted you as his company for a meeting. Said he’s old fashioned like that.

James didn’t mention the dress code, just told you where and what time to come. You could be a brat about it and appear in jeans and a hoodie, but you considered yourself to be honorable and a good sport. You lost a bet, but you wouldn’t be a sore loser, or petty. There was also a part of you that wanted to impress Barnes, to show yourself as someone who could pull off a fancy look.

In your sparkling red heels and black, silk dress, you walked up the stairs of the Scaretale with your chin raised high.

The club’s dark interior was a surprise. From the outside it appeared to be glowing, full of light and mischief, but, as you stepped in, velvet darkness wrapped around you like a shawl.

There were points of light, but they were dimmed. A whisper of mystery and horror slithered around, quickly getting lost in the growing warmth of spicy seduction.

It was a place known for encouraging lust and romance, but you didn’t expect the sensual brush of it to tease your skin.

Perhaps it was why your breath hitched when your eyes met James’ across the room.

His icy eyes always held a particular intensity, but as he watched you now it sent a ripple of something hot and exciting through your body.

As you neared him, your heart clenched in fear, before restarting with a flutter. James was your coworker, but in this setting you lost any sense of safety around him. He was someone different here. More himself, than the persona he played in public. More the ancient beast.

And the core of him you met that evening was scaring you.

He greeted you softly, saying your name in a way that sounded intimate and possessive. His hand rested on the small of your back as he led you toward a nook in the wall that was separated from the rest of the floor by an iron-wrought railing and heavy, black curtains draped to the sides.

There was a rectangular table in the middle of the small room he led you to, with velvet benches surrounding it instead of chairs. Chandeliers dripping black crystals hung above, casting a soft light that didn’t fully disperse the shadows.

“Please, sit beside me.” James pointed to one side of the table. He kept standing until you sat down, then slid right next to you.

“Would you like something to drink?” He asked, sliding closer when you tried to put a few inches of space between you.

“White wine, please.” You nervously twisted your fingers in your lap.

A few seconds later a waitress appeared by the railing, though you didn’t see James summon anyone. Well, they sure had some top, attentive staff in here. You were surprised when Barnes ordered a specific brand of wine, stressing to bring it sweet.

“Why sweet?” You liked most of the whites, including some of the dry, so it didn’t really matter to you.

When James’ gaze flicked to you, it appeared it mattered greatly to him.

“Because you’re sweet.” He stated.

A sudden thought of him referring to your blood’s flavor made you both hot and extremely cold with terror, but his next words made that reaction appear silly.

“Wearing all those pastels and headbands with crystals and pearls. And everytime we happen to be in the same meeting, you’re always drinking pink grapefruit soda. You’re a sweetling.”

His eyes slowly dragged down your form. You couldn’t help the quickening of your heart rate as you felt his gaze move along your body. Again, you were certain his focus lingered on where your veins pulsed beneath your skin.

“I admit I’m quite surprised to see you in black,” when he spoke, it was lighter, more teasing. There was even a hint of that charming smile that disarms people.

“Thought it’s best to match you, since I’m your company for this important meeting,” you shrugged.

He still didn’t express what your expected role was. If it was a business meeting, was he going to lean on you for advice? Or were you an arm candy, only there to provide a nice accent and be a trinket of power? Many conservative men still conducted their business meetings, or public appearances with that mindset. Maybe vampires did too.

“I appreciate it.” James smiled at you. There was a satisfied gleam in his eyes, but darker and hungrier than simple appreciation of your thoughtfulness.

A voice in your head whispered that perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to cater to a monster's whims, even to those of a polished, cultured one. Perhaps it was even worse than if you goaded a barely leashed werewolf.

Because James was incredibly smart and cunning, and you were beginning to suspect that he had the ability to manipulate your reactions without you even realizing you were playing into his game.

When the waitress appeared with your glass of wine, James took it from her and handed it to you. Your fingers brushed against his cold ones, the contact sending a jolt down your spine. His skin was cold, yet you felt a sense of warmth unfurl in your belly.

As if his mere touch heated up your blood. Which had to be a very dangerous thing, considering he was a blood sucking vampire.

“Mhmm, you smell sweet, too.” He hummed, tilting his head so that his nose almost brushed a spot behind your ear.

“James!” You gasped, fingers tightening on the thin stem of your wine glass.

A surge of trepidation took over as your instincts reminded you of being in proximity of the most dangerous predator. It wasn’t a good omen when a vampire commented on your tempting smell. Because it meant at some point he might want to verify if your taste matched.

Yet the cold thought of it sucked your nipples into straining points.

You took a sip of your wine. Then another one, in hope of relaxing your body enough to hide certain reactions.

“Call me Bucky, please.” His voice sounded like a seductive whisper. It reminded you of a hot tickle against your ear, or neck, which you sometimes experienced when writhing on your bed amidst a wet dream.

If your imagination was wilder, you’d wonder if this vampire had something to do with the sex dreams which occasionally haunted you on those rare stormy nights.

“Okay, Bucky,” you smiled up at him, hanging onto the comfort of breaking a certain barrier between you two, by being allowed to use his nickname. You didn’t think you heard anyone at work call him that.

His eyes darkened. He traced his fingers along the back of your neck, before settling his whole, big hand on your shoulder.

“Say it again,” he demanded.

“Bucky,” you said it softly, sensing unbearable tension growing between the two of you.

“Sweetling.” His low growl reverberated right against your clit.

You would hope he didn’t notice you clenching your thighs, but with how his own leg was pressed to yours, there was no doubt he felt the shift.

Suddenly, his eyes sharpened, his gaze briefly shifting above your head before returning to you. His hold on your shoulder relocated as his arm smoothed around and down your back, his fingers digging into your waist as he pulled you closer to his side.

“Don’t speak.” Bucky ordered in a hushed tone. “Don’t engage, even if he tries to address you. Just sit quietly beside me and drink your wine. And follow my lead.”

“An accessory,” you nodded, taking a sip of sweet alcohol. You didn’t feel particularly disappointed with being reduced to quiet arm candy. It wasn’t your meeting, nor for a business of your department, so you felt no urge to prove yourself.

“You’ll be good, sweetling.” He declared, as if you had no option but to obey.

As his eyes held your gaze, you felt something shift inside you. Like a thin string wrapping itself around your throat. Its other end seemed to be in Bucky’s hand. An invisible leash that compelled you to follow his lead, just like he said you should.

Compelled… The word echoed in your head, scratching against your skull with some knowledge you couldn’t remember.

You focused on it and on the sweet taste of the wine as someone entered your space. You cast a quick glance at the large man, but remained glued to Bucky’s side like he wanted. Their words flew in and out of your ears, actual information barely sticking with your awareness. You were more entranced with Bucky’s voice.

And the way his fingers started running up and down your arm. Cold, yet enticing that very lively sensation.

Words about takeover alerted your mind, but then that shiny, invisible leash tugged on you gently and your brain settled back into its comfort of focusing on Bucky.

At some point, his teasing fingers closed around your hand and he brought it to his lips. He kissed the soft part below your thumb then pressed his mouth to your wrist. Right over where your pulse danced.

Your body tensed at once, a pained gasp leaving your lips as Bucky’s fangs pierced your skin.

He bit you without any warning. Like it was his privilege.

Tears filled your eyes as you looked up at him with a flare of betrayal. His gaze shifted from the other man to settle on you, even as his lips remained sealed into your wrist, sucking slow sips of your warm blood.

Be good, sweetling. His voice filled your head.

It hurts. You weren’t even aware that your whine didn’t form into actual words spoken aloud, but was merely a pathetic sound accompanying your thoughts.

Does it? Bucky’s eyebrow arched as he drew more of your blood in, then swiped his tongue along your sensitive, punctured skin.

You blinked, dazed. When he bit you there was pain, but as he sucked you… You felt the throbbing in your wrist, but its echo was a more pleasurable beat that had your nipples and clit thrumming.

You watched Bucky lick his lips clean and return to his conversation with ease, as if taking your blood was nothing more than sipping a drink. Which he did again a few minutes later, lifting your hand and sinking his fangs a little lower into your forearm.

A soft, little cry spilled out of your mouth, but your legs parted wider to ease your throbbing clit.

There was no previous agreement to Bucky drinking from you, yet somehow you didn’t resist as he took. Your body simply molded to his demand. Your brain resisted, angry and sobbing at the inability to fight, but that rebellion came and went like sparks of a badly functioning electricity.

You didn’t want it, didn’t consent to it, but it felt so good. Made you a good kind of dizzy. Ligheaded, like you had one glass of champagne too much. Your usually buzzing body felt softened and pliant.

For once you were calm and nestled, not a chaotic shard not fitting to the surroundings.

You spread your legs wider. The table separated and obscured the view of you from the stranger, but you had an inkling that the arousal trickling between your folds wafted into the air.

It sure reached Bucky’s senses. Behave, his hand on your waist tightened its grip.

I am, you boldly replied to the phantom voice in your head and promptly brought the glass of wine to your lips. You drank half of it in one go.

A part of you expected Bucky to act rashly. To show irritation or impatience, but then again you never saw him lose the winter cool of his demeanor. He didn’t react to your mental hiccup either, simply carrying on the conversation with the other monster.

However, his hand smoothed up your arm slowly. Fingertips danced over the puncture wounds which he sealed with a swipe of his tongue, then traveled upwards.

He took the thin strap of your dress between his thumb and forefinger and dragged it down your shoulder. Black fabric covering your breast fell down, swaying in a soft roll right above your nipple. Just when you thought his retaliation was driven to the max, Bucky’s hand skimmed over your collarbone and down to the swell of your breast.

Voice not wavering even once, as he kept talking over some business details, Bucky slipped his fingers under the silk of your dress and took your tit out.

No! Your humiliated consciousness screamed silently.

Bucky remained unphased. He exposed your breast, running his fingertips around the areola and flicking your puckered nipple.

When the other man started talking, simply continuing the conversation as if you weren’t lewdly displayed in front of him, Bucky tipped you back. The arm around you tightened, supporting your back. His other hand cupped your breast as he sank his teeth into the soft tissue.

More wetness pooled in your core, even as pain from the bite zapped your synapses.

You were nothing but a chalice of wine from which Bucky sipped whenever he wanted. However he wanted to.

A morsel to bite and chew slowly.

He didn’t seal that bite right away, so the blood trickled down slowly as he helped you back into a sitting position, cuddled to his side. You felt the warm liquid gather atop your nipple into a ruby drop.

Bucky swiped it with his thumb, teasing your nub as he did.

When he brought the thumb to his mouth to suck it clean, you stared up at him in horror and awe. That handsome face with chiseled jawline and cheekbones, pale pink lips wrapped around a marble white, thick thumb. As he released his finger, you saw a flash of his teeth - a smudge of your blood covering them.

His thumb was coated with Bucky’s saliva as he brought it down to rub over the bite, sealing your wound.

The hand on your waist gripped your elbow when you attempted to reach for the strap and cover yourself back. Leave it, Bucky’s low command resounded in your head. What?! No! Why? It was indecent! He wasn’t even drinking from you anymore. Just holding you partially naked and humiliated.

Because I wish so and you’re mine to do whatever I please.

There wasn’t even a seductive lilt of teasing to his tone. It was a richly dark declaration of ownership you didn’t expect.

You wanted to protest, to scream it out at him that you didn’t want it. That even if some aspects of his actions were arousing you, you weren’t his to treat like a toy, or blood bag. That’s when your memory flashed back to the exact conversation you had with Bucky when you negotiated the rules of the bet.

What you interpreted as company for one night, for this particular meeting, was never in fact stated as limited. Bucky never said for one evening. He only demanded that you’d give him your company.

Now, his voice returned, as calm as before, sit still and drink your wine, or I’ll take your other tit out.

Anger and despair flared inside you, as hot as the wave of dark excitement that turned the fabric of your panties into a soaked mess sticking to your folds.

What he said and did to you was bolder and filthier than you tried with any of your former lovers. It didn’t only push, but crossed your boundaries. But even as he did something so unpredictable like undressing you in public, there was calculated deliberation in it. Cold, lethal precision strumming your responsive pressure points.

Will you let him drink from me? For some reason, you clenched your fingers on Bucky’s suit jacket, clinging to him as terror of what might actually happen took over.

No. You’re mine. Came his instant, firm response.

But there was only silence when your panicked voice asked, Will you kill me?

He left you hanging with that worry as he wrapped up his meeting. The wine kept your blood rushing warm, as did Bucky’s closeness, but your heart started to drag with growing dread. Needing something to anchor yourself to, you stared at the rings on Bucky’s fingers.

It was only when his voice reached your ears that your head snapped up and you realized the other man was gone.

“You did really well for your first time, sweetling.” Bucky’s fingers gently took your chin.

Despite the allure of his eyes and his hold on you, the spark of dread spread into a sticky web that filled you with all sorts of cold, breath-stealing fears. His choice of words was deliberate. Everything Bucky did was. So it meant he planned on there being a second, a third, and more events similar to that night.

Bucky took your empty wine glass and placed it on the table. Then he readjusted your dress and helped you up onto your feet. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, muttering something about getting you a proper coat.

A waitress waited by the exit, handing you a to-go cup of something hot as Bucky led you toward the door. Your fingers wrapped around the warm cup, scenting something sweet.

You had a thought of making a scene, making a run for it, but this place was filled with monsters who, undoubtedly, would be on his side. And Bucky was a damn vampire, who could probably catch you before you made half a step.

Also, whatever was in that cup was really tempting you to drink. And his hand on your back felt nice, too.

As Bucky guided you down the steps, a sleek, black car stopped at the curb. Some young man jumped from the driver’s side and gave Bucky keys with a deep bow. Huh, you didn’t know they had valets here.

Bucky helped you into the passenger’s seat and buckled your seatbelt. So engulfed by the cozy warmth and spicy scent, you didn’t think to use the moment of him walking to the driver’s side to try and escape.

But the question returned, rolling out on your tongue as Bucky cut through the city with speed right on the edge of limit.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Not yet.” Bucky’s calm, simple response was like a blade piercing through your chest.

“The process is more complicated. There are rules-” he paused, hearing your intake of breath. When he looked at you, you were curling in on yourself and leaning against the side door, like you wanted to blend into it and disappear.

Something flashed in his blue eyes and after a moment you were pulling away from the door and sitting back in your seat.

Bucky’s fingers cupped your chin. Even with only one hand on the steering wheel he had full control of the car.

“I’m not disposing of you, sweetling.” He assured you. “You’re my feeder. And will become my companion.”

Companion. It echoed in your head. You agreed to be his company. But you didn’t know it meant something more for a vampire.

The bites on your body pulsed with awareness, reminding you of the way he sunk his teeth into you. You wondered if his cock would sink into you with the same seductive firmness.

Your previous dizziness from the blood loss was nothing compared to the chaos that Bucky’s revelation brought. On the way to his estate he explained more, stating details of his plans for you as if he was reporting something obvious. Each sentence of the fate he weaved for you, however, leashed on your skin like a lick of flogger. Hurting and pushing your mind toward a cloudy space.

With some last remnants of panicked will, you attempted to run when he parked in front of an impressive estate. He caught you in a blink of an eye. Then those blue eyes were staring into yours and an invisible leash tugged on you, calming you into compliance.

He made you drink that hot chocolate, which you got in the to-go cup, as he steered you through the corridors of the mansion. Rich sweetness filled your mouth and brought a sense of regeneration.

The cup dropped forgotten when Bucky brought you into his bedroom. Somewhere between his words about keeping you here with him for two years, until you learned all the rules, all the expectations and attuned to your role at his side, he unzipped your dress and pushed it down to the floor.

Your hands against him held zero strength as he spread you on his massive bed, your attempts at fighting him off melting as his teeth scraped along your naked body.

“Your blood tastes like decadent chocolate” Bucky hummed against your hip bone. “I bet your cunt tastes just as sweet.”

He ripped away your soaked panties then spread your thighs wide apart. His lips mouthed against the delicate skin of your inner thighs. You knew there were some crucial arteries there and you wondered how much it would hurt when he bit into one.

But he didn’t. Instead, Bucky kissed further up. He licked the seam between your thigh and cunt, then traced your outer lips with his tongue.

It was atop your mound, a breath away from your clit, where he slowly, torturously slow, sunk his teeth in.

You screamed and he held you down.

He didn’t suck your blood right away, but pulled back and watched it trickle down onto your glistening pussy. Dark red juice dripped down your clit and between your swollen folds.

Bucky dove in. Feasting on your cunt with reverence and hunger he didn’t display before. He licked your blood and your slick, mixed them on you and on his tongue. His growling, near animalistic sounds vibrated against your sensitive core.

He made you come while he made you bleed. Licking and swallowing your wetness; holding your hips down in his strong grip as your body twisted and writhed in pleasure-and-pain.

Then he drew another blinding climax out of you, driving two of his ringed fingers into your sopping cunt and at the same time sinking his teeth back into the open bite atop your mound.

He closed your wound, but didn’t wipe away the blood as he kissed up your body. When he bit your breast, he let the blood drip down the swell of it, too, before licking it off your skin in tantalizing, sensual strokes.

You hurt from the bites, but Bucky’s mouth and touch brought you so much exquisite pleasure.

He drank from both your breasts, smudging your blood all over his mouth as he kissed your skin through the ruby mess. Closed the wounds with a teasing lick of his tongue, before flicking it against your hardened nipple and sucking on it so hard you felt that suck on your clit.

“You’re delicious, sweetling.” Bucky rasped against your ear. “And such a good girl for me.”

You felt the nudge of his cock between your folds. Your hips rocked up eagerly, but your weakened arms drew between your bodies to push him away.

Sensations were overwhelming. You feared that your brain might completely shut down, if Bucky added to it the stretch of his cock and ripping pleasure of being fucked.

Gently, he pried your hands away from his chest and placed your arms next to your head on the mattress. He pinned them down as he rolled his hips into you.

“Gotta do it, sweetling,” he hushed your mewls. “Gotta break your body before sunrise, so your mind starts to learn to sleep all through the sunny day.”

“It’ll take weeks to fully break you.” Bucky sneaked one of his hands between your bodies, to guide his cock into your entrance. “I’ll exhaust you over and over again, until your body conditions itself to shutting down with sunlight and waking up at sunset. Until you’re molded to me.”

Your lips parted on a strained moan as he slowly penetrated you.

Just like you suspected, Bucky drove his cock into you with a firm, steady stroke, just like he sunk his teeth into your skin.

As his dick stretched your pussy, Bucky kissed you. Sensual and languid. Getting you drunk on his lips and taste like the most potent wine. He welcomed your yielding moan with a victorious growl.

Then, as the head of his cock nestled against your cervix and he bottomed out, Bucky’s fangs dipped into your lips.

You clenched around him, your body tensing like a cord as he drew blood from your mouth. He sipped on you, forcing some of the metallic sweetness of your own blood onto your tongue.

Bucky soothed your lips with a swipe of his tongue, before lifting his weight on his forearms. He looked down at you - all dark, ruthless beauty of him, with eyes glinting winter storm and mouth red with your blood.

There were smudges of red on his torso, as well, from where his body pressed into the bloody mess he created as he drank from various spots on your chest and belly.

“You already take me so well and feed me so sweetly,” he said, licking remnants of your taste off his bottom lip, “you’ll learn to take all the pleasure and pain I give you. And someday you’ll take my blood and I’ll show you what ecstasy of a vampire feels like.”

With that he withdrew, only to slam back in a hard snap. Your body jolted, your back arching.

You were so weak, so lightheaded. Exhaustion was pulling you into darkness. But the way Bucky was fucking you bursted through that dark with fireworks. His name was a broken cry on your lips, so soft it may have been a whisper. Or a prayer.

“I deliberately had the sheets changed to white.” Bucky mused, driving into you harder, making your legs jerk helplessly with each thrust of his hips.

“Wanted to see the stains from your cum and blood on it. You make such a pretty mess.”

Your consciousness drifted away completely after he tipped you into another orgasm, relishing in the way you screamed and clenched around him. Your body was boneless as he chased his own release, groaning it not soon after you floated into sleep.

To him you looked most beautiful: spread out on the crumpled sheets, your body smeared with blood and bearing marks of his bite. Stains of red and acidic wetness splattered the sheets between your legs.

Bucky leaned down, one more time biting into your mound. A shallow wound this time. Just so he could watch your blood slowly trickle down in a thin stream and mix with his cum dripping out of your fluttering pussy.

You remained unconscious when he cleaned you up. As well when he ripped away soiled sheets and replaced them with a set of fresh ones and climbed into bed next to you. He held you in his embrace as you slept through the day that stretched outside; heavy, black-out curtains preventing a single sunray from sneaking inside.

When you’d wake up late in the afternoon, Bucky was going to provide you with a hearty meal and adequate vitamins. He’d tell you more of the rules. Then he’d break your body again.

#scaretale universe #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #vampire!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #relish your scream

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