#yandere bucky

[our-destiny]

Yandere Winter Soldier x GN!Hydra!Reader <3

Trigger Warnings: Hydra employee SA's reader, murder, dehumanization, creepy staring from Winter Soldier, Winter Soldier being protective, Hydra generally being shitty, I continue to be terrible at endings - If I missed anything please tell me

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

Want to read more of my work? Check out my Masterlist

Word count: 1027

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The Winter Soldier took a liking to you. He would ignore his handlers, staring at you whenever you're in his line of sight, never taking his eyes off you even while answering his handler's questions. It was unnerving, to say the least. No one knew why he liked you so much, but he didn't really do anything else apart from stare at you so they didn't bother worrying over it, just tried to keep you away from him as much as possible so the soldat wouldn't get distracted. That, however, was a mistake.

He started missing you. Missing your presence, your voice. Soon enough he started asking where you were, refusing to follow orders until he saw you. He had this weird fixation with you and Hydra couldn't do anything about it, he was their best Asset, and you were just a Hydra worker; replaceable. They humoured his desires, making sure to have you in the room with him at all times, which seemed to placate him, being able to watch you made him more... submissive, it seems. Calmer. He went back to following orders, not causing a fuss or refusing to speak. But eventually the Asset wanted more.

He stopped responding to his handlers again, just sitting there, staring at you, not moving or speaking. Up until this point you had never spoken to one another, the soldat just watching you while you squirmed under his harsh gaze, Hydra wondered what would happen if you.. called out to him. Said his name. Gave him orders.

One day the soldier was doing his usual stunt, not responding to his handler in favour of watching you breathe. A few of the officers started whispering among themselves, glancing over at your direction. A minute later the soldat's handler turned to you and spoke.

"You. Talk to it." You stood there dumbfounded. What did he mean 'talk to it'? "Come here. Stand in front of it and talk to the Asset." Hesitantly you stepped forward, his handler moving out of your way so you can stand directly in front of him. The soldat looked up at you from where he was sat, his eyes holding some sort of reverence for you, lips parted in awe. What should you say? You can't ask him how his day was or talk about the weather so what should you say? You settled on his name. Well what Hydra called him at least.

"Soldat." His eyes softened slightly, responding immediately to your word. "Ready to comply."

You glanced back at his handler, not sure if you should continue. After getting a slight nod from the officer you asked him, "Mission report?" Your voice was shaky, not used to giving orders and still not used to the way the soldat stares at you, but he responded anyway. For the first time in who knows how long the Asset complied without any fuss, detailing his mission to you. A feat no other Hydra employee could achieve recently.

Hydra quickly realized that this was the only way to keep their most prized soldier submissive. He'd only take orders if they were from you, always seeming eager to please you, saying "ready to comply" with a bit too much enthusiasm. When he came back from missions he'd relay the details to you, seeming to search your face for some sort of approval, like he wanted to know he did you proud, did what he was told to do like the soldier he is. The Asset worked harder, strived to please you, carried out your requests with fervour. You quickly got promoted to his handler. Not much changed, all you had to do was give him orders, orders which you were told to by higher officers. It kept him happy for a while, you having control over him, talking to you daily. But once again, he wanted more.

Other Hydra employees usually tried not to bother you, you were obviously precious to the soldier and crucial to getting the soldat to comply, but recently there was a new employee, a man that had not realized your importance. You could never really get comfortable working for Hydra, still talking with a quiet voice and trying to avoid any attention and he thought he could take advantage of that, cornering you one day in the hallway, pushing you against the wall trying to feel you up. Unfortunately for him the soldat was just returning from a mission and everyone knows the soldat immediately goes to see you after his missions. The Asset was not happy to see someone else feeling up his handler, and he was even more upset that he was making you uncomfortable, forcing you to do something you didn't want to. The Asset handled it a lot more maliciously than he usually would on missions, first focusing on getting the employee off of you, then only focusing on hurting him, nothing else but the crunch of his bones breaking beneath the soldier's metal fist, making him regret even touching you. Only when he was unrecognisable did he stop, turning to you to grab you, holding you in his lap, arms slightly shaking, growling at anyone who got too close.

After that... encounter he became more physical in a way. He didn't like it when someone got too close to you, wrapping his arms around you protectively. He got closer in general, getting closer to your face while staring at you, eyes lingering on your lips, so close you could feel his breath on your face. Sometimes he got confident, brushing his lips over your temple or cheek, as if testing the waters. Gradually, he applied more and more pressure to those half-kisses, until he was kissing you fully and often, whenever you gave him an order or he came back from a mission he'd kiss you, sometimes on the cheek, on the forehead if he was feeling particularly protective, but mostly on the lips.

It was some sort of fucked up obsession the soldat had for you, the want for you to own him and for him to own you, you're his and he's yours, no one else matters.

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

Reblogs make tumblr go around and are very much aappreciated <33

[atlasscrumpit]

Yandere Steve/Bucky

(au where they won the war, Steve didn't die and Bucky didn't fall off a train, set in the 40s)

Bucky looked down at you and smiled, running his hand through your hair.

"Steve's going to love you so much, darling girl. Our perfect girl." He whispered to himself while he played with your soft hair.

"Our perfect wife." He whispered, smiling before he heard the door open.

He left your room and saw Steve coming home.

"Hey, Buck." He muttered as Bucky smiled.

"I have a very special gift for you, punk." Bucky said as Steve looked at him in confusion and slight worry.

"What's going on?" Steve asked as Bucky grabbed his hand and pulled him to where you were unconscious.

"Y/N?" He muttered, quickly rushing up to your bedside.

"Is she okay?" He asked as Bucky smiled.

"She's perfect, Steve. You always talked about how perfect she would be as a wife. Now she can be." Bucky said as Steve looked at him with confusion.

"What? What are you on about?" Steve asked as he looked back at you and felt your forehead for a temperature.

"She doesn't know what's good for her, Steve. All those dates she goes on? Those disgusting men always around her, living in a crappy apartment by herself. The war is over, Steve. Don't we deserve a good life? Don't we deserve to have her as our perfect wife?" Bucky said as Steve looked at him in shock.

"Bucky, what the hell has gotten into you?" Steve asked as Bucky grit his teeth together.

"She is staying here! I burnt down her apartment anyway!" Bucky shouted as Steve looked at him in utter disbelief.

"Bucky... What the hell?" Steve growled before they heard a noise from you.

Steve looked back to see you starting to wake up.

"Buck, out. I won't mention what you did but I'm not letting you talk to her right now." Steve scolded as Bucky took a deep breath and left without another word.

Steve looked down at you as your eyes started to flutter open.

"Easy, Y/N." Steve whispered as you began to wake up.

"Steve? What's going on?" You asked as he helped you sit up, you were still pretty groggy.

"It's okay, you're at Bucky and I's apartment. What's the last thing you remember, love?" He asked as you tried to think back.

"I went out to lunch with Bucky and then I remember not feeling well so we went back to the car and then I fell asleep." You muttered as Steve nodded.

He needed to come up with a pretty good lie.

"Well, there was a fire at your apartment, nothing survived. I think Bucky was trying to find a way to tell you but he didn't want to wake you up." He said as you looked at him in confusion.

"My home burnt down?" You muttered with sadness in your eyes.

"Yes, love. But, it's okay, this can be your home now. You can stay with Bucky and I." He said as you nodded a little.

"Bucky was acting weird when we went to lunch, is he okay?" You asked, Steve sighed but nodded his head.

"Yeah, I think he's just a bit all over the place at the moment. After he came back from fighting he was different...but I guess that's to be expected. Especially because Hydra captured him." Steve replied as you nodded.

"Yeah... You're right."

--

Everything seemed suspicious about this situation, you trusted Steve and Bucky but they had been acting weirder than usual...especially Bucky.

You were making breakfast for them one morning and you felt arms wrap around your waist, you knew it was Bucky but your never been very affectionate with either of them.

"Buck?" You muttered as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

"I could get used to this." He muttered as you chuckled awkwardly.

"I just thought I would do something nice for you since you've let me stay here." You replied as he backed away a little.

"I was thinking... Why don't you live here permanently? I know you've been looking for other places but I don't think it's a good idea." He said as you looked at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?" You asked as sighed.

"Y/N, you can't live alone in an apartment you're whole life. Who's going to take care of you?" He asked, you looked at him and backed away.

"I can take care of myself, Bucky." You replied with anger evident in your voice.

"No, you can't Y/N. You need Steve and I, we will take care of you, spoil you and you can be our perfect little housewife." He said, stepping forward as you looked at him in fear.

"What the hell has gotten into you!" You shouted as he pushed you against the counter and kept a grip on your hip with one hand.

"You need me, you need us, we have to take care of you." He whispered as he leant in and forcefully kissed you.

You tried to push him away before someone grabbed him.

"Bucky, enough!" Steve yelled as Bucky backed away.

"Y/N, love. Thank you for breakfast, just go into your room while I sort this out, okay?" Steve said as you nodded and ran off obediently.

"Why does she obey you so easily!" Bucky says about to rush towards you before Steve grabbed him.

"Buck! Enough, you need to calm down. This is all too much for her, I agree that we have to take care of her but she needs time to settle in, okay?" Steve said in a stern way as Bucky sighed and nodded.

"You're right, we need to take it slow." He replied as Steve nodded and let him go.

"She'll realise she needs us soon enough."

[theinheriteddutchess]

This so hot.. Sweet... Dark? All in One, a perfect mix. I love it. I wanted more because I'm a greedy Bucky lover. But this was absolutely great...🫠🫠🫠

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

Oh, is he?

Follow You Home

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

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

The way he craved you.

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

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

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

Still beautiful. Still mine.

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

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

Sweet enough to melt on my tongue.

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

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

I’m reliable. Dependable.

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

You'll crave me the way I crave you.

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

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

He felt the need to protect you, too.

Just not from myself.

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

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

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

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

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

Bucky shattered one of his knees.

I’m not a bad man.

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

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

I'm actually more than that.

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

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

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

“Yeah, I know of him.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re perfect to me,” he said.

In every way.

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

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

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

Do people feel better by making me a villain?

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

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

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

As if you hadn’t changed his life.

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

He was wrong.

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

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

“I might cry again,” you smiled.

It reached your eyes this time.

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

“Is it okay if I ask for a hug?”

“Sure,” he said, opening his arms.

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

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

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

Where you belong.

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

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

So many options.

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

As you should be.

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

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

If anything, he'd be good to you.

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

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

"I'd like that," you smiled.

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

“Bye. Thanks again."

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

Perfect for the two of you.

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

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

I just wanted you more.

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

No one would find the body.

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

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

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

Starting with you.

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

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

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[yandere-wishes]

Normal People: "Why did u start writing Yandere content?"

Most Yandere Authors: "I wanted to express my dark desire for a forbidden romance through a creative medium. Forgoing social norms to create a love that is most cruel yet utterly true. To appease the lethal love that lays dormant within my bones, rattling me with its yearning for freedom. To show the world a love that is hideous, dangerous, yet wholly profuse. The sort of love only found under a moonless sky. A romance that can kill and heal with the same hand. To fashion ballads of broken hearts and damaged minds trapped in a waltz of shimmering hearts."

Me: I want to get kidnapped so I won't have any responsibilities.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Please can we have more Yan justice league?

Maybe the reader has a boyfriend in the military so she doesn't see him much and when he comes back to visit, the go on a fancy date before they crash it?

It would make it even better if they reacted to the boyfriend about to propose to her!

A Day in Life: Heartbreaks

Synopsis: A day in your life where your yanderes find a secret of yours and tell you another one.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Modern!40s!Bucky Barnes X Reader

Tw: Bucky you’re one of my fav characters from Marvel, I'm so sorry I did u dirty😭; Heavy mentions of cheating and NO forgiving; Stalking; English isn’t my 1st language.

Word count: 1k

Requested? Duh.

Extra notes: I should be studying instead of writing this. Also omg I got so many requests in just a few hours, thank you very much!! I'm writing them all!!

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

Since most of your days became filled with stress and anxiety, you started appreciating even more moments where you could just forget all your problems, from small ones — like, lack of motivation to go to the gym, bad hair days and an ingredient you forgot at your fridge and became rotten—, and big, out of your control ones — like seven superheroes, who you see almost everyday, stalking you.

Your boyfriend getting back was one of the best dic(k)strations.

Bucky was a sergeant, he spent weeks, even months, away from you on missions. It was hard, but you were both busy people, so your mind was usually too stimulated to think about boy problems only all day, most adults were, and you believed the hard work would be worth it one day. The future was hopefully bright.

The League never mentioned him. Actually, some of them implied more than once that they thought you were available, so they probably didn't know about your relationship. You didn't use much social media and your boyfriend got especially busy this year, so it made sense.

He paid for you to get your nails done earlier and took you to a nice restaurant. After that, Bucky took you for a walk around the city, lively and beautiful even at night, and stopped at the park where your first date happened. Everything was fine, until he got on his knees. Suddenly, seven, mostly colorful, figures descended upon you from out of nowhere, screaming.

— (Y/N)! YOU CAN'T MARRY HIM! — Flash’s voice startled you, confirming your suspicions to who the group was.

You growled.

— SERIOUSLY? LEAVE ME ALONE! IT'S MY DAY OFF! — Bucky, who had swiftly gotten up with his fast reflexes as soon as the heroes charged, blinked at the sight. He looked between you all.

— Doll? What’s this? — You looked apologetic at him.

— Sorry, Bucky. Since I got my job, my bosses got… Protective over me… — You didn't want him to get hurt. Bucky and his friends had a great sense of justice and hated bullies. He would surely want to do something if he knew the true extent of things. You also didn't want to ruin the vision he had of his idols.

Since their obsessive behavior started, you just counted your lucky stars that they would just get tired of you one day or wouldn't sabotage your relationships. They seemed fine with you having friends, but dating was different.

You turned to the League.

— Go! — They shook their heads.

— You can't trust this bastard, darling. We have proof of his betrayal to you. — You looked at Wonder Woman skeptically and crossed your arms. Bucky gulped.

— Oh, really? How so? — You raised an eyebrow.

Batman fiddled with his wrist computer, a second later, a protection was shown and different pictures and videos of your man talking and being very intimate with someone very familiar to you appeared. Your stomach churned and your heart ached.

— This is fake! Doll, you have to believe me! — Bucky cried out and got in front of you, holding your shoulders, trying to cover your vision from the images. You took a step back and kept looking at the images.

The League had more than enough means necessary to fake all of this, but you knew Natasha was Bucky’s ex, and they were still friends and coworkers, even with their intense heartbreak. You sometimes got insecure and worried since they spent so much time together, but he always told you you had nothing to worry about…

You gulped.

The League was all glaring at his back while he shouted a hundred words per minute, desperately trying to convince you he was telling the truth.

Superman growled and walked forward until he grabbed Bucky by his shoulders and pulled him away from you.

— Stay away from them, you asshole. (Y/N), I would never do that to you. — You ignored Green Lantern's words, like you were doing since the pacifier incident. You knew he was getting desperate and that made you specially scared, but at least he gave you some distance.

— Not now. — Batman took a step forward. — A few hours ago, we discovered your relationship. For security reasons, we searched, and found these pictures and conversations from his second social accounts, that he uses to commit his cheating.

— He didn't try to hide much, he thought he wouldn't get caught. — Flash stated.

— I-I need more proof… These could be old… — Your first words spoken made Bucky shut up. Mind scrambling for something.

— Let the Lasso of Truth speak for him. — In a second, the Lasso was thrown around Bucky's torso and he was squirming. — Speak, you worthless mortal! — Wonder Woman ordered.

Bucky was able to struggle for a few seconds, before he blurted out.

— It's truth! It's truth! I told her we broke up and started dating her again! I thought I could have you both at the same time!

You gasped. Your hand shot to your chest.

Flash was on your side in a second, trying to hug and comfort you, but you pushed him away. You started crying from heartbreak and anger.

— HOW COULD YOU?! — You glared at him and pointed at his face.

— Doll… I swear I love you both. But I'm also narcissistic, insecure and look down on women. — The Lasso was really doing its job. You laughed humorlessly.

You had nothing to say anymore. No reason to stay. You took advantage of his tied arms and got close, punched his nose, and stomped away.

The League contemplated going after you and trying to bring you comfort, but Batman and Martian Manhunter decided to just let Bucky go (after intimidating him so as to not get close to you again) and follow you discreetly, watching you from the shadows, intervening only if necessary.

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Taglist:

@wandalfnation

[sarahowritesostucky]

Happy Little Family

📖"A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat: Just like her Mommy"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4407

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

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.

This chapter: Bucky shows up unannounced at your cottage, shattering the peaceful life you thought you'd reclaimed for yourself and your daughter. He's reclaiming what's his, and he isn't planning on accepting a "no."

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" shlyukha = "slut" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one"

1. A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat, Just like her 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, "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."

A whimper escapes you, unbidden. 

June starts squirming in his lap, eager to get to you. When he doesn’t hand her over, she starts to fuss. He coos at her and bounces her in his arms to calm her, kisses the top of her head while keeping his somber, reproachful eyes on you. “You left your door unlocked,” he says. “She was alone.”

She’d been down for her nap when you went downstairs and popped across the street to visit with Hilde, your one friend in the world. It’s so common for mothers to do, in this tiny, Nordic village you’ve settled in. It’s the culture here. It’s supposed to be safe. You swallow thickly, eyes flitting around to try and think of what to do. You think of your gun, so far away. You’d talked yourself out of keeping it tucked behind your bed, so now the only weapon you own is down in the kitchen. But maybe … maybe if you can get him away from June … 

“You should be more careful, Little thief. You never know who might break in and take everything you love.”

“The only thing we had to guard against here was you,” you hiss. “And I’m not fool enough to think a locked door would keep you out.”

“You’re damned right it wouldn’t.” He tosses the storybook aside like trash and stands up with June in his arms. “But you are a fool if you thought there was anywhere in the world you could go where I wouldn’t find you.”

You flinch forward compulsively, unable to think of your own safety over your baby’s. “Please, James,” you beg. “Please. Just give her to me.” 

“Oh no, Dollface,” he purrs, voice deceptively soft. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do, and you aren’t gonna want her in the room when it happens.” His hands tighten threateningly on June’s little body. “Whose baby is this?”

You blanch. “Don’t hurt her.” 

“Aw. You don’t want me to hurt her?” 

“No, please!” The sob that’s been working its way up in your throat finally breaks. It’s killing you not to rush forward and snatch her from his arms. “Please, I'll do anything.”

“Is that so?” He stares at you long and hard. The few seconds of silence are torturous as he holds your daughter away from you. 

James is one of the deadliest people you’ve ever met, and he’s capable of horrendous violence, but he wouldn’t hurt a baby, that much you do know. What you have to worry about most right now isn’t him physically hurting her; it’s him wanting her, whisking her away right alongside you, when he inevitably takes you from this place. There’s nothing you can do to prevent your own fate, but if there’s anything you can do to keep him from getting his hands on June, you’ll do it. Your eyes flit around the nursery frantically, its pale, dream-like decorations taunting you as you try to think of what to do. It feels surreal to have a man like James standing in this room, feels wrong.

Your heart leaps when he suddenly moves, but he’s only turning to walk over to the crib, bending and placing June in it with a surprising amount of care. Something painful lances in your chest at seeing him handle her so gently, but when he turns back around to you, all of that gentleness is gone. “Come on,” he snaps. “To the other bedroom.” 

You hesitate, not wanting to leave your daughter alone, but he stalks forward and grabs your upper arm, herding you out of the nursery and down the hallway. In your bedroom, he pushes you onto the bed. You land in a heap and scramble to prop back up on your hands, trying to swipe the hair out of your face.

“Whose baby is that?” he demands. “Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”

His Voice. God. After almost a year and a half it should be lessened. The pull you feel when you hear it has no right to tug at you the way it does. You’re not even mated, which makes it all the more insulting. It gets in through your ears and spreads throughout your body, like an invasive plant, growing and sinking its roots into you and tug, tug tugging on your will: Whose baby is that.

You fight the awful urge to tell him, as you rapidly, fearfully weigh your options. It’s hard to think when you’re so frightened, so taken aback. Most people might think it wise to admit the truth, but you know this man, this alpha, and you know he’ll never let her go if he knows that she’s his. Anything, you think. You have to do anything you can to keep her from that life, that world. 

Heart in your throat, you insist, “Noone.”

“Noone?” His visage darkens. “Artificial insemination, then? I know they’re progressive and all up here, but don’t take me for a fool, mamochka.”

“It was just some guy! Just a one night stand, I swear!”

He surges in, gets one knee up on the bed and pushes you onto your back when you try to get up, leaning over you and holding you down by your shoulders. “So you did let another man fuck you,” he growls.

You jut your chin out and hiss, “Yes.” (Lying Rule #1: deliver your bullshit with confidence).

“Who? Was he alpha?”

“Why do you care? It was one night in Oslo.” (Rule #2: add in one or two unimportant details.)

“What’s. his. name?” 

A bitter sound escapes you (Rule #3: attach honest emotion to it, if you can). “I don’t know his name. I never did. I was just racking up a roster, just wanted to get laid after getting away from you.”

He bares his teeth at you in a snarl, furious, and shoves you harder against the mattress. You cry out and try to hit him, but he catches your wrists and holds them down to the bed easily, shoving you again, one of his powerful thighs pressed up between yours. “You’re mine,” he growls, getting in your face, lying on top of you. “Noone else’s. Not ever.”

You whimper and nod, shaken and keenly aware of his body on top of yours, his strength. James is a massive hulk of an alpha, capable of overpowering you in any situation, and even through your frantic thoughts, you know you’ll never be able to get away from him in close contact like this. He’s so angry, his scent gone thick and choking. You’re too panicked to plan out what it is you’re going to say next, you just wind up instinctively trying to placate him, blurting out, “What do you want?”

He leers down at you. “I want what’s mine. What’s always been mine.” On your wrists, his fingers tighten cruelly. “You’ve had your fun now, and gotten away with it for too damn long. You’re coming home with me, Little thief.”

You gasp as the pressure on your wrists increases painfully, mind flying to that cold, Siberian fortress and the life that awaits you there. You might be able to get away from him before then, but you might not, and you can’t risk June being trapped there as well. “Okay, okay! I’ll go with you, I will. Wherever you want. Just … Please let me give her to the neighbor. Please.”

He smiles nastily down at you. “Oh, you don’t want her to come along? Another man’s pup?”

Tears press at the backs of your eyes at the thought of leaving your daughter behind, but you shake your head. “Please. Just take her over to the woman across the street. She’ll look after her. Please James, she's my daughter. I won’t fight you if you leave her there. She’s nothing to you. Just let her stay where it’s safe.” 

Something in his expression shifts, but you don’t have time to figure out what the emotion might be, before he shutters again. He leans down and purrs, “Oh, I don’t know, vorishka [little thief]. You stole some very valuable things from me. And since I don’t see any fucking Picassos hanging in this hovel you call a house, I assume they’re in the wind.”

It wasn’t as though you’d simply been able to run away. Escaping had required finances, techniques, firms of dangerous men hired to plant false leads, erase tracks, ferret you away into oblivion, and then move halfway across the globe and buy yourself a new identity. The bribes alone had eaten up most of the money. You shudder in his grip, knowing that the paintings wouldn’t save you, even if you did have them. “They’re gone.” 

“I know they’re gone, Little thief.” He shoves his thigh down against you. “So how are you gonna make it up to me?”

You whimper. “I can’t,” you plead. “James. I don’t have anything.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I can think of a few ways you can start repaying your debt.” He runs one hand down your side, groping your waist as he breathes softly against your ear: “For instance, do you have any idea what she’d be worth on the black market?”

It takes you a split second to figure out what he means, and your heart seizes in terror as soon as you do. You know James is involved in every type of shady, illegal dealing there is in the world, but you’d never even considered the idea of human trafficking. Now that he’s said it, you panic that you’ve made a huge mistake by lying that the baby isn’t his. “James,” you whisper, horrified. “Alpha, please.”

“Oh, it’s Alpha, now, is it?” He chuckles meanly, the sound making your stomach churn. You’re about to say something else, beg in some other, pitiful way, tell him he’s June’s father, but instead you cry out as his hand fists in your hair and yanks your head to the side. His breath hits hot against your skin and he drags his nose up the side of your neck, scenting you. “Mmm,” he hums darkly, pleased. “You spread your legs for another man, but you didn’t let anyone in here.”

You squeak when his teeth scrape over your still-unmarked glands. “No!” you gasp, just as much an answer as it is a plea for nim not to bite you. “I didn’t, I didn’—”

“Shut up,” he snaps, closing his teeth down on the spot. You whine as he pulls your hair and slowly increases the pressure of his bite, threatening to break the skin. Horrified, you feel your body responding with arousal, heat blooming deep in your core. You squeeze your eyes shut, and sure enough few seconds later James is inhaling deeply and chuckling. “Oh, kotenok [kitten]. Still the same as ever, huh?” He shifts, hand slipping down between your legs and cupping you from over the fabric of your dress. “Ripe for your Alpha’s touch, even after all this time. How sweet.” Humiliated rage bubbles up inside of you and you glare up at him. He’s looking down fondly at you, eyes heated and lip drawn into his mouth. He lets it slide back out between his teeth and murmurs, “It’s okay, you know. It’s everything to me, omegechka [little omega], the way you respond. It’s only natural.” You growl angrily, but he just hums and tugs your hair again, other hand molding to your mound and rubbing. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, when you cry out louder. “Don’t want to scare the whelp, do you?” 

You freeze, listening to try and hear June. She’s whining from over in her room,  not understanding why she’s been left alone when she can hear her mommy’s voice just down the hall. “Please,” you whisper, locking eyes with James again. “Please. Let me go to her.”

He grinds the heel of his hand against you. “I told you, Dollface. You don’t want her here for this.”

He kisses you on the mouth, chaste and lingering; so gentle that for a split second it makes you ache for what you once had with him. James always was very good at making love to you, at lavishing you with a softness and a tenderness even in the darkest of times. But now you can only shiver underneath his weight, because you know that’s not what’s about to happen. 

“Seventeen months, moya omegya,”  he rumbles quietly, lips brushing yours with the words. “My bed suddenly cold, not knowing if you were alive or dead. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

His tone of voice is so intimately familiar that it makes your heart clench, bringing back memories of a life you’ve fought so hard to put behind you. “Please,” you whisper. “Don’t do this.”

He tuts and shakes his head softly, as if he’s actually remorseful. “How this goes depends entirely on you. I want you to know that.” He hasn’t stopped working his hand against you, rubbing his palm against your clit and smiling at how you shudder beneath him and your body betrays you. You watch his nostrils flare as he smells the reaction he’s pulling from you against your will. “Sweet girl,” he coos. “You just can’t help it, can you?” You toss your head and screw your eyes shut, but he’s having none of it. He yanks your hair and hisses at you to open your eyes. “No,” he warns, once he’s got your attention. He moves back, getting up onto his knees and shrugging off his jacket. “You’re going to watch. The whole time.” His hands land on his belt, the buckle clinking as he opens it and undoes his pants. “I want to look right in your eyes while I take back what’s mine.” He shoves his pants down along with his underwear. His cock springs free, already hard and wet at the tip. A part of him that’s been inside you hundreds of times, probably. Something you’ve craved and debased yourself for. 

Seeing it reignites your shame, but it’s the way you feel your cunt pulse and release a fresh wave of slick, that really makes you start resisting again. “Nnh!”

“Ah ah ah, Dollface. That’s not gonna work.”

“Nugh! Lemmo go!”  

You fight, of course you do, but it’s almost worse that way, as it only points out how comically mismatched you are to him. He laughs at you and holds down your thrashing body, barely even grunting from the effort of subduing you. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, chuckling breathily as he forces you down with one hand and strokes himself with the other. “I have to tell you, kotenok. I’ve been looking forward to this.” 

“I hate you!” You manage to get a hand free and you flail, hitting and clawing at him. He inhales sharply as your nails scratch his face. He knocks your hand away with a surprised hiss and, wide eyed, touches the spot where a tiny line of red is welling up on his cheek. The next thing you know, he’s backhanding you, sending spots into your vision and knocking you out of your senses for a few seconds. Your ears ring and you blink, stunned.

His hand appears at your throat, squeezing, pressing up against the arteries. You briefly grapple with him, grabbing his forearm and fighting, but then his thumb notches into place and digs into your glands. Your cries taper off and you go limp with a pathetic, mewling whimper. “Nnnh …”

He leers down at you, adjusting his grip, still jerking his cock as he subdues you with the Hold. “Weak,” he says. “But that’s just how I like you.”

His thumb rubs in circles, sending a rush of liquid gold through your veins. It worsens the situation between your legs, and you can’t hide that any more than you can hide the humiliated tears that prick to your eyes as he shoves your dress up and rips your underwear straight off of you. He coos when he looks down and sees how wet you are. “Oh, omegechka.” He knees your legs further apart and drags his cockhead through your folds. “And this is you hating me?”

You shake with a silent sob, despising him with your whole being, hating yourself for reacting this way. Before James, you’d never met a man who coveted your omega nature so much, hadn’t known what it was to need an alpha that way, to have your body need him. And to think: you used to like it.

He lines himself up and sinks inside of you in one, unyielding push, forcing you to open to him, carving out his space inside of you. You cry out at the force of it, body clamping down hard and the delicate skin at your entrance stinging from the stretch, but he doesn’t stop until he’s fully seated. “Fuck,” he groans, grinding in deep, his pubic bone pressing against your clit, laughing darkly when it makes you squeal. “Oh, you sensitive?” He does it again, and again, doesn’t stop until he gets a high pitched, warbling moan from you. “Theere she is.” He digs his thumb in harder against your glands and stares right in your eyes as he watches the effect it has on you, soaking up the flush in your face and the furious tears welling at the corners of your eyes. “I know, Sweetheart, I know,” he murmurs. “You really can’t help it, can you?” You whimper and he nods along in mock sympathy. “Poor little thing. I can’t imagine what it must be like, to need it that bad.” 

“James,”

He pulls out halfway and shoves back in, hard, rumbling in pleasure when it elicits another yelp from you. His other hand grabs at your waist, fingers digging into the soft give of your body. He hums dirtily. “I have to say, I’m pleasantly surprised. You look good for having just pushed out that pup. You look healthy.” You whine in protest and he fucks in hard again, baring his teeth in a mean smile. “Yeah, momma, you heard me.” He pulls out, thrusts back in. 

“Ss-stop.”

He laughs. “Don’t be like that, krasotka [Pretty(n.)]. I like it. You always were too skinny for my taste.” He runs his hand from your waist up to the top of your dress, yanking it down along with the cup of your bra, and groaning when your swollen breast spills out. You squeal in rage as he curses quietly, eyes going molten and unfocused. “Fuck, Honey, look at you.”

You start thrashing again hard, trying to hit him, but you only get a glancing blow to the side of his head before he refixes his hand on your throat and clamps down in another Hold. He gives you a firm shake. “Settle down. I told you: I like it..”

“Nnn, fuck you!” You spit on him, but he only laughs and wipes it away, leering down at you and continuing gleefully,

“Shouldn’t be skinny like some damn underwear model. Mm mn, naw. Now you’re nice and soft, just like you should be. Somethin’ for Alpha to grab onto. Bitty waist and a fat ass.” He grabs your waist again and pulls you down into the next roll of his hips, changing the angle and hitting that spot inside of you that makes stars burst in your vision.

“Ah!” 

“Mmhm. Right there baby? Yeah, thaat’s the spot. I remember.” He’s panting open-mouthed, breathless as he taunts you, “I remember everything. What you like. How you feel. The sounds you make. Fuck.”  He shoves into you hard and holds there, his licked-red lips curling up wickedly. “Your cunt’s fluttering around me, Sweetheart. Clamping down so fucking hard.” 

“Nnh!”

He laughs, but his smile slackens as his own pleasure continues to build. He angles back and looks down your body, stares at where his cock is disappearing inside of you with lewd, wet sounds. “Shit, momma. And this pussy snapped back real good, didn’t it?” 

You cry out angrily, but it’s what he wants: to see you aroused and humiliated and furious at him. He sets a punishing pace, his hips slamming against you hard on the end of each, brutal thrust; his open belt and the zip of his fly digging into your ass every time he grinds inside. “You haven't been fucking anybody,” he says smugly. “How long’s it really been, mamochka? Hm? How long since another man was in this cunt?”

You moan miserably, his cock driving hard against your walls, too rough but not painful enough to keep it from feeling good. James is big, has an alpha’s cock, and it’s never been a physical possibility for him to be inside of you and not rub against every spot that makes your body light up in pleasure. You shake your head and try to close your eyes, but he pushes his hand up harder underneath your jaw, shaking you. “Uh uh. Look at me.” 

You can’t fight off the command of his Voice, not when he’s already dominating you so completely. Your eyes open against your will, full of tears, and he rumbles in satisfaction. 

“Better.”

Every whimper and mewl you make drives him on, stoking the angry satisfaction that’s burning in his eyes—eyes that you can’t look away from as you cry out again and again, little “Ah, ah, ah's” that interrupt the cadence of your skin slapping together, all of his eager growls and satisfied grunts.

“That’s it, shlyukha,” he pants, hips snapping in hard, again and again. “You—ugh—you let Alpha know how good that feels. Don’t hold it back from me.” His breathing is getting heavier the closer he gets, his composure and even his anger losing some of their hold as he fucks you harder, sinks down on you farther, covers you with his body fully as he ruts into you in pursuit of his climax. “Shit,”  he hisses not far from your ear, face stuffed in your neck. 

You keen high in your throat at his proximity to your bonding glands—a plaintive sound that directly contradicts the panicked ‘no!’ that flashes in your brain. His hand leaves the front of your neck and scoops around behind instead, gripping you at the nape in a Scruff that feels just as toe-curlingly right as the Hold had. 

For a very split second, his breath hitches and his growling trips into a needy whimper. “O-oh …” And that’s when you feel it: his knot starting to catch on the end of each thrust.

“Ah!” You cry out sharply and grab onto him, helpless to keep your body from seeking out more, from clinging to him and clamping down hard as his knot grows and triggers you into orgasm. “Hhgnn …”

He goes feral when he feels your body locking down on him, growling and shoving in and grinding to ensure that he catches inside and ties you together. His hand abandons your neck entirely as he gives in to the instinct to rut, both arms wrapping around your waist, scooping under your back and holding you still for him to fuck furiously against. The tug of his knot inside your cunt makes you sob and come harder, losing sense of yourself as the pleasure cuts through you like a knife. 

“Fuck, fuck, ohhfuck …” The sound of his deep voice, so lost in the desperation and helplessness of his own pleasure, makes your belly flare hot with new arousal even as you’re coming down the other side of it. You gasp and pant, and eventually whimper as the bliss dissipates and you become more aware of him on top of you, grunting and groaning and fucking into your tie as he rides out the long, debilitating climax of an alpha.

You keep your eyes closed and cry, hating that it still feels good as he fucks into you, grinds down on your clit and gives your another orgasm, and another. You wait for him to finish as your brain fills with the high that comes after, that unavoidable pink cloud that you know is going to seal your fate and make you helpless to him for the next thirty minutes, at least. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head in the direction of the pillows. 

As the high starts to take you, you think about how, if you’d just kept your gun holstered behind by the headboard like you’d planned, you could be blowing his brains out right about now.

A.N.: Soooo ... This is the rape-iest thing I've ever ever written. I hope y'all are okay. Just wanted to drop a note to let you know that this fic WILL lighten up and not be quite so, well, rapey, in the future. Thanks for reading! 💖Sarah

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[klaus-littlestwolf]

Smut-🔥 Fluff-🧸 Series-⚜️ Headcanon-🧨 Dark-🥀 Dd/Lg-✨ A/B/O-♎️

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Random Thoughts

[highonmarvel]

hi hope ur doing well. i was thinking, could u do a buckyxreader where hes paralyzed and like needs a caretaker. through some means reader ends up as the caretaker and all is well. but actually bucky was just pretending and hes not realy paralysed and he just pretended to get closer to reader and reader start expresing the idea that she might have to leave for whatever reason and buck does not like that so like he kidnaps her or something. I rlly luv ur work this is the first request iv sent

this is so good, i’m upset i didn’t think of it first. i’m so sorry for taking so long to get back to you, i really hope you enjoy, and thank you so, so much for the love. okay, here it is:

Himalayan Salt

Bucky Barnes: You’re assigned to a notoriously grumpy war vet, but he’s different with you.

content warnings here!

You nod as your supervisor goes over your final notes: James Barnes, World War II veteran, quadriplegic.

You follow her from the overcast weather into a beautiful but modest home in a fairly quiet suburb to meet the man sitting in a wheelchair in the centre of the room.

“Good morning, Mr Barnes,” your supervisor calls, tucking her clipboard under her arm as she waits for him to turn around. When he does, you’re surprised. You hadn’t seen a photo of him beforehand as this had been a pretty impromptu assignment, but you’re sure you were told he was born in 1917, yet he sits looking like he’s in forties, and aging well, at that.

“Hi, Mr Barnes!” you smile warmly at him, and he returns a friendly smile, introducing himself as Bucky and insisting you call him that.

“I just need you to fill out the last of the forms quickly,” your supervisor mutters, waving goodbye to Bucky as she leads you back out to her car.

You’re leaning against the boot of her oldish, red car, pen scratching against paper when she says, “He really likes you.”

“Hm?” you offer, raising your eyebrows but keeping your eyes focused on the form.

She leans her back against the trunk and shifts down a bit, speaking to you but looking over at your handwriting, “He’s known to be grumpy. You see the left arm? I don’t think he likes being dependent, I’ve had to swap out a lot of people.”

“And you didn’t tell me this before I took the job?” you frown, still finishing off the document, “Didn’t think I could handle it?”

“I know you’re capable, but I thought you wouldn’t want it. But listen, the organisation needs this, I don’t know if there’s anyone else we can find for him.”

You complete your signature with a satisfied smile, handing back the clipboard, “Don’t worry, I can do this.”

She nods then gets in her car and drives away, leaving you in the driveway. You stretch your arms then make your way back inside. When you enter the living room, there’s a draft you swear wasn’t here a few minutes ago. Bucky hasn’t moved, but you notice an open window. You furrow your brows as you look down at him, “Can I close that? It’s a bit chilly in here.”

“Go ahead,” he nods, and you walk over, pulling the handle it, and ignoring the recent-looking fingerprint marks on the glass.

***

A few hours into your first day, you’re a little taken aback by how friendly he is; even despite your boss’ warning, you’ve never had a patient so willing to co-operate, especially not veterans — they tend to be angry they need help, or have episodes due to PTSD, but Bucky seems perfectly in his right mind and understanding of both his and your position.

“Did they tell you I was a pain in ass?” Bucky asks before opening his mouth for a spoonful of food.

You laugh as you pull the spoon back, scooping up more of the rice and curry you made to lift to his lips, “Kind of,” you admit, “Said you were grumpy, is that true?”

He smiles, “I tend to be,” he confesses, “But I can’t keep that brooding persona up around you,” he takes a spoonful.

“So that’s what it is?” you raise an eyebrow as you pile the last of the meal onto the utensil, “A persona?”

He swallows the last of it and shakes his head with a grin, “No, but I can’t not be amused around you.”

***

You have no idea why your supervisor said he was difficult, your next few weeks with Bucky are light and fun, and you feel you’re even developing a friendship. You don’t see to him at night, and he has minimal needs during the day — some days it just feels like you’re there to keep him company.

You’re doing so well, in fact, that your supervisor wants to transfer you to a veteran from Vietnam who’s apparently even worse than Bucky (by other people’s stories — to you, if he’s anything like Bucky, he’ll be nice to see), convinced you have some magic touch.

As much as you’re developing affection for Bucky, you have to put work first, and you’re compelled to leave him for the other man who clearly needs you more. Bucky seems to be doing well, you’re sure you can’t be that special, and you’re sure someone else could take care of him just as well, if not better.

“Hi, Buck,” you greet with a smile as you close the door behind you. You hear his motorised wheelchair come rolling down the corridor to greet you.

“Hi, why could you only come in at ten today?”

You usually come in at seven on weekdays and eight on weekends.

“Sorry, I had a meeting,” you sigh, setting your tote bag down as Bucky switches his chair to manual.

“A meeting?” he asks as you take hold of the handles and push him to the other side of the kitchen island.

“Mhm,” you nod as you open the fridge, rummaging around for something to make, “There’s this other guy my boss wants me to help,” you call with your head still in the cold, “A Vietnam vet, no one else in the org will take him.”

You emerge with some eggs and milk, shutting the door with your foot before placing the contents on the island, “Did you eat? I assume Carol made breakfast but I can make more.”

“Are you going to take it?” he inquires, ignoring your question, “The job.”

“I mean, maybe,” you answer, placing your hands on the counter and tilting your head as you think, “I’m not sure yet.”

“But what about me?”

“The other guy needs full-time care, I’d have to spend virtually all my days there, but if I leave, Carol can take over for me, she can go from night to day, she’s amazing, and she doesn’t complain about you, at least not as much,” you wink, but he doesn’t crack a smile.

“Bucky, I didn’t mean to upset you—”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s just that—”

“It’s your job, I get it,” he replies, and you can see the stoicism build up.

“Nothing’s final, yet,” you say as you walk over, “And you’re doing great either way,” you give him a kiss on the forehead, “We don’t have to talk about that, let’s just eat, I’m starving.”

He nods and attempts to smile, but you can tell it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You try to make conversation as you make yourself an omelette, but you can tell he’s not in it, giving short answers and not reacting to your jokes. When you reach to grab the salt, he stops you.

“Not that one,” he says, “Use the pink salt, Himalayan, I swear it makes everything tastes better.”

You grind some onto your food and sit across from him on the island. Digging your fork into it, you see something flash across Bucky’s eyes. Your first thought is hunger, but he’d just eaten and swore he wasn’t hungry. You ignore it as you bring the fork to your mouth, savouring the taste, though it’s not necessarily a chef’s rendition.

It tastes fine, but there’s something off. At first, you think it must be the salt, but it’s not the taste that’s off; usually when you eat, you feel that warmth in your throat and then your stomach, but now, it’s like it went to your head. You press a hand to your forehead, feeling like you’re burning up. Trying to stand, you immediately sway, only not falling by gripping the counter so harshly and hastily you bend a nail. You try to look to Bucky to tell him you’re not feeling well, but he’s out of focus. In fact, he’s not there. Just as you collapse and close your eyes, you feel a tall shadow over you, but you don’t have time to figure out where it’s coming from before you fall unconscious.

***

You groggily wipe at your eyes when you finally stir before turning over to reach for your phone, at first thinking you had had a dream, but your phone’s not there, and the nightstand isn’t yours. You shoot up in panic and look down at your sheets: Bucky’s sheets. Okay, maybe Bucky rang Carol and she came and set you in bed. Your head still hurts, and everything’s a little hazy.

When the door opens, you expect to see Carol, but it’s Bucky.

“Bucky!” you gasp as you throw the sheets off of you.

He gives a lopsided grin, and for the first time you notice how tall he actually is, because he’s standing.

“Christmas miracle?” he offers.

He walks over to you and sets a glass of water on the bedside table.

“That Himalayan salt is really exotic, isn’t it?”

You don’t even have time to process exactly what he means by that, he’s still standing over you, using his arms and legs just fine, in fact, like he’s been doing it every single day forever. You should have suspected something was up; how could a paralysed man stay in such good shape? The thought briefly crossed your mind once when you ran your fingers over his muscled arm, but you brushed it off.

“Bucky! You- you—”

“Are perfectly fine, I am, and you will be too, soon, those drugs just need to wear off. I know you’re having trouble understanding, just drink some water and sleep it off a little longer.”

He leans down to give you a kiss on the forehead, but you dodge him, nearly falling off the bed in the process.

“Woah, there,” he chuckles as he catches you with ease, his reflexes so sharp it’s nearly unnatural, “Now I’m taking care of you.”

You’re not sure if you can’t speak because of the drugs or if it’s because you’re in shock. He gently sets you back down and your head falls against the pillow as you struggle to keep your eyes open, spots of black blocking little bits of your vision.

“I’ve been needing someone, I’ve gone through a few, but you, honey, you’re special, and I knew it from the moment I saw you. You can’t leave me, I still need you.”

✪

[taglist; @cjand10]

[nicestgirlonline]

Let Me Hear You Scream

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT AHEAD! 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI! language, threatening situations, DUB CON, horror elements

Word count: 3.8k

Summary: It’s the 90s so you actually answer the phone when you’re watching movies

a/n: Happy Halloween yall!!!! Still working on other projects but really wanted to get something out for Halloween! This was for @witchywithwhiskey’s Horror Movie Hoe-a-thon! the prompts I picked were Scream and “I’m your boyfriend now” Hope you all enjoy!!!! Thanks for reading, I’d love your feedback! Reblogs and comments are love <3

1993. A sleepy suburban town, where nothing exciting ever happens. Friday night.

Your friends were all going out to Wanda’s party, but you were stuck housesitting for your aunt. Your mom had promised you would house sit weeks ago, so you couldn’t get off the hook. It was a big empty house, more rooms than your aunt could ever need. Most were filled up with storage and dust bunnies.

You tried to make the best of the boring night-in. You rented some Meg Ryan movies with plans to completely veg out. You ordered an extra large pizza with all of your favorite toppings and raided your aunts pantry for snacks.

You glanced down at your shirt and saw red. Pizza sauce! Blooming red circle right in the center of your cream sweater. You let out a huff of frustration. Some Friday night.

You changed into comfy nightwear--a baby blue cotton gown that brushed the very top of your knees, along with a pair of fluffy bunny slippers for good measure. You settled back down in front of the TV.

RING. RING. RING.

You picked up the phone, squeezing it between your ear and shoulder as you carried your snacks over to the kitchen.

“Hello,” you used your best fake customer service voice. Your aunt had asked you to take down any messages. She must have a new boyfriend she was hoping would call. You wait for a response but all you can hear is low breaths through the receiver. “Hello?” You try again

“Is this Sidney?” The voice was weirdly distorted and hard to place. It was deep, clearly a man’s voice.

“Sorry, wrong number dude.” You hung up before he could let another word out. You set the phone down by the cradle and go back to making your snacks. You got out the big popcorn bowl.

The phone rang out again. “Hello?” You answered. You really hadn’t expected to be fielding this many phone calls.

“Hey. Did I call you earlier?” It was the same strange voice. You blew some air through your lips, how annoying.

“Sidney’s not here. Have a good night--”

“Aw man. She must have given me a fake number. I don’t mean to bother you over and over tonight.” He sighed, sounding very apologetic.

“No worries. Have a good night.”

“Wait, wait. I like the sound of your voice.”

You paused. Was it totally weird to just chat with this guy? Yeah. But what harm could it be? You felt a bit of a flutter in your stomach. You never had talked to a stranger over the phone like this. It felt clandestine! You decided to go with it.

“Better than Sidney’s?” You asked, trying to make your voice sound as flirty as possible. You heard him hum approval.

“Much better than…let’s not talk about her. What are you doing tonight?” There was something very familiar about his voice. There was a crackle and static that made it so you couldn’t quite make it out. It must be a shitty connection.

“I was having a movie night. I’m making some snacks right now.” You started to curl the phone cord around your finger.

“What are you watching, Pumpkin? Something scary?”

“No way. I hate scary movies.”

“Especially not when you’re alone right?”

“Uh - um - I’m not alone. Actually.” You lied. How did he know you were alone? Was he just guessing?

“Scary movies are always scarier when you’re all alone, in a big empty house, that’s in the middle of nowhere,” he continued.

A shiver went down your spine. That was a bit too accurate. But there's no way he could possibly know where you were. It was a phone call!

“I just don’t like them. It's either some creepy slasher stabbing some big boobed blonde through her white t-shirt or a ghost that's a metaphor for trauma. No thank you,” you sighed.

“I think you’re being a little hard on them. Maybe if you watched them with a guy to cling to you’d like them more. Do you have a boyfriend?”

There it was. Obviously the alone comment was him trying to set the mood.

“Why do you want to know? Already over Sidney?” You teased him.

“Answer the question.” He was very serious. You didn’t like the tone he had.

“Yes, I do. Are you going to hang up?” You lied again, trying to call his bluff.

“You don’t have a boyfriend. What are you wearing? Something cute and virginal? What about your underwear?” You pulled the phone away from your ear in shock. You were officially too skeeved out. This wasn’t some poor guy who got slipped a fake number. He was a weirdo!

“Ok perv, I’m over this. Bye.”

“I wouldn’t hang up Y/N.” His voice was suddenly hostile. He spat each syllable out filled with hatred. Your blood ran cold. Your heart started to race. How would he possibly know your name?

“Is this a prank? Not very funny. Is this you Tony?” Your voice shook with fear.

“Who’s Tony? That your boyfriend?” He snarled.

“This is a really bad joke. Did someone put you up to this? Scott? Knock it off now!”

“Jesus you’ve got a lot of men in your life. Are you trying to make me jealous or something? I don’t like sharing.”

“I’m serious, this is a bad joke, so just give it up already.” You cried out, you looked around, making sure you were still totally alone.

“I don’t give up so easily. Do you, Pumpkin? Do you give it up to any guy who looks in your direction? I bet you do, you slut. That's why you're talking to a guy you don’t know while you’re all alone.”

“I’m hanging up, I already told you I’m not alone. My boyfriend is here! He’s big and he plays football. S-so don’t call back ok?” You tried to sound as forceful as possible but your lips wobbled and you tripped over your words.

“Pumpkin, you’re lying to me. You’re all alone in that big house in the middle of nowhere, wearing that skanky nightgown. I can see your nipples poking through this whole time. You’re so turned on by a psycho on the phone, huh?”

You let out a scream. You slammed the phone down, hanging it up. You started to spin a circle looking at all the windows, trying to see if you could see somebody watching you. You ran to the front door to make sure they were locked. You went window by window locking them and shutting the curtains. You took a chair from the kitchen and dragged it in front of the door, jamming it beneath the door knob.

RING RING RING RING

You looked around, trying to remember where all of the doors were in the house. You spun around running to the kitchen entrance. You double checked the lock and put the chain on the door. You slid down the door with your back pressing against it trying to catch your breath.

This wasn’t real. This had to be some fucked up prank. The guys were all too hyped up for Halloween and wanted to get a scare out of you. The ringing stopped and you heard the voicemail click, your aunt's outgoing message began to play.

“You screening your calls, skank? You’re gonna die, you little whore! I’m gonna see what your insides look like --” You picked up the phone just to end the message and slammed it back down. As you scampered away it fell down, swinging from the cord. You take off up the stairs, stumbling up the stairs.

You dash into the guest room you had been staying in. You quickly locked the door. Your hands were shaking still. How was this happening?

The window started to jiggle. You could hear the groaning old wood start to slide. With nothing better to arm yourself with you grabbed a pillow and started to wildly smack the intruder with all you could.

“Whoa whoa whoa, it’s me -- it’s me!” Bucky Barnes, your classmate, was gripping the window sill, flabbergasted from the pillow. You hadn’t even had time to register who it was before you attacked.

“Bucky? What the fuck are you doing here?” You demanded. This proved to you it had to be some kind of a prank. Why else would Bucky Barnes, the moody guy from your film class be climbing up to your room.

“Well, when you said you were busy tonight I thought I could just surprise you? Like a grand romantic gesture or something? Can you um, let me in? It's actually kind of cold.” He was shivering out there. He looked so earnest it tugged on your heart just a bit.

You motioned for him to come in. He heaved his body up, awkwardly crawling through the tight window then falling to the ground. He sprang back up quickly, smiling at you.

“Is this a prank? Are you in on this with the other guys or something?” You crossed your arms.

“Um, other guys? Are there other guys here? I thought I was being original.” He peered around you as if to look for them. You rolled your eyes.

“The phone calls Bucky. I’m not joking around.”

“What phone calls? I’ve been driving all night to get here from campus, then shimmying up some ivy. Haven’t exactly had any time to stop at a payphone. You know what. This was a bad idea, I can see that, I’ll just leave.” He sheepishly put his hands in his pockets as he crouched down to leave the way he came.

“No, no wait!” You grabbed him, keeping him from going outside. If it wasn’t Bucky then there was still a psycho out there! “I don’t know what's going on, but this weird guy kept calling me, and he was watching me! Like I think he was outside the house or something.”

“Calm down, calm down. I was just outside. There's nobody out there. It was probably just a prank call.”

He started to rub your back with slow soothing circles. It was intimate in a way you weren’t used to from Bucky. He was the quiet one, never really hung out unless Steve was around. His palm pressed into your lower back, holding you closer to him. His other hand cupped the back of your head, guiding you into the crook of his neck.

“You’re getting so worked up. Maybe you should just lie down.” He shushed you as you tried desperately to explain it wasn’t a prank call. He guided the two of you down to the bed. He laid down next to you.

“Bucky…why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you, I thought you knew…isn’t it obvious how I feel about you?”

Your head was spinning. Bucky liked you? He barely even talked to you! When he casually asked if you were going to Wanda’s party you assumed it was just small talk. He had grunted and left the second you told him you were busy.

“I think I should call the cops about this--”

“I’m here aren’t I? I’ll keep you safe.” His lips connected with yours silencing you from responding. His kiss was eager, but still so gentle. He slowly moved his lips against yours, basking in the taste of you. He took his time and slowly you could feel his tongue ghosts against your bottom lip, looking for entrance.

Maybe it was the adrenaline, the shock, or maybe Bucky was just an extremely good kisser, but you quickly fell under the spell of the kiss. You let yourself get lost kissing him, trying to forget the phone call prankster that had been terrorizing you.

Fear was still racking through your body, but Bucky felt safe. You tangled your hands in his hair bringing him closer. His hand slowly traced up and down your leg. Both his hands grasped your legs, essentially pinning you down. You felt a cool air waft over your thighs as his fingers gently crept beneath your nightgown.

He cupped you over your underwear, grabbing the elastic and letting it snap back against your skin. You finally broke free of the kiss to gasp. He sat back on his ankles, his hand still toying with your panties.

“Bucky, I--”

“Shhh it's ok. I’m here to save the day. No one's gonna hurt you while I’m around.” He pushed aside your panties and started to slowly circle your clit. You whined as he circles you again and again, the pleasure rushing through you and pushing every thought of terror out of your brain.

He pressed his thumb against your clit and dipped his fingers inside of you. He curled his fingers, dragging more moans out of you. As he fucked you with his fingers, you tilted your hips up for more delicious friction.

“That's it my brave girl, Bucky’s here for you,” he murmured above you. He spoke with such hard conviction. His eyes were intensely boring into yours, nearly unblinking. He was no longer softly in the throws of passion. He was a man on a mission.

He kept pumping his fingers, he brought his other hand up from your leg to palm himself through his jeans. He groaned as he adjusted himself and went back to work on you. His other hand circling around your inner thigh, moving your leg up to his shoulder.

“Bucky, please, please,” you babbled as the pleasure began to mount and mount. It was nearly unbearable as you chased your release, grinding your hips up and down on his hand, riding his fingers towards that sweet relief.

“Yes, you’re doing so well, you’re perfect.” He brought his lips to your neck and began to suck at your sensitive spot. You let out a cry of pleasure as your climax flowed over you. You clamped your legs together, biting down on your lip as another cry came out.

You took a moment to catch your breath, Bucky was still nibbling on your neck. You grabbed his face and brought his lips back to yours. He eagerly responded, his lips enveloping yours.

You grabbed the underwear that you were still wearing and rolled it down your body to fling them off. You sat up and grabbed at Bucky until you found his belt. You fumbled, trying to unbuckle it. Bucky's hands quickly found yours and he brought them together, kissing both your palms. He unbuckled the belt on his own. Removing it without ceremony or flourish. He then yanked his jeans and underwear down.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

“I want you so badly, Bucky,” you moaned.

He let out a strangled gasp that turned to laughter. You tilted your head at the reaction. He didn’t sound exactly happy, it was more sinister.

“I just have waited so long to hear you say that to me. I’m so happy right now,” he nearly giggled. He giddily took off his jacket, tossing it to the ground.

“Keep me distracted Bucky, ok?” You asked as you hitch your nightgown up to your waist.

“Oh yes, anything for you, Pumpkin.” He had a devilish smirk on his face as he pressed his lips to your navel, slowly kissing his way up. He grabbed your nightgown and finished taking it off. Tossed it to the side with the pile of his clothes.

He made his way up your abdomen before groping your chest with a satisfied hiss. He squeezed you roughly, making you squeak. He latched his lips onto your breast. You let out a gasp as he lightly bit down. He tended thoroughly to each breast, his wicked tongue teasing at your pebbled nipples until you were a moaning puddle.

He grasped his cock, stroking it a few times before guiding it to your folds. He brushed the head of his cock up and down your cunt, teasing it out. He pressed his forehead against yours.

“You really mean it, right? You want me?” he asked desperately.

“Yes --” Before another word could escape your lips, he entered you. His whole body shivered. He thrust the tip of his head in, easing in and out until he was fully sheathed inside of you. You moaned as the stretch burned in pleasure and pain.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he moaned, the pace he had set was blistering. You gripped his shoulders to keep yourself anchored as he hammered into you. “You’re so tight, so tight fuuuck me.”

He thrust over and over, using the heel of his hand to keep working at your clit. You scratched your hands down his back as his pumps kept hitting the perfect spot. It was torturous pleasure as he kept working up and down your clit, not giving you a moment of respite.

You came again, your body seizing up as you cried out and then falling limp, boneless back down to the bed. Bucky grabbed your hips, pulling your lower body off the bed as he raced for his own release. The slapping sounds of your bodies filled the room along with his deep, gutural breaths.

“Yes, yes, you’re mine, you’re mine, I finally have you, finally, finally…” he babbled as he slowed his pace as he fucked out his climax.

XXX

You curled next to Bucky in the big fluffy guest bed. Both of you were happily satisfied. All thoughts of strangers on the phone were gone from your head. Now it was filled with what just happened.

Hooking up with Bucky? You’d never considered it before. You weren’t sure why, he was so very cute, you thought as you gazed at his face. His eyes were dreamily staring back at you, that big smile had not left his face yet.

“So if you want to like, hang out, I have snacks and movies. We can go curl up on the couch and just completely let our brains rot.” You traced tiny circles on his chest, feeling pretty confident he’d want to stick around.

“I’d be down for a little romcom night, as long as you’re there.” He affectionately tapped your nose.

“Good because that's all I’ve got!”

The two of you got back into a semblance of your outfits, you pulled your nightgown back on, and Bucky pulled on his boxers and the white undershirt he was wearing. You snagged his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. He hummed his approval and kissed you on the cheek.

You grabbed him by the hand and pulled him along down the stairs.

“You can go grab the popcorn, I’ll put the tapes in.” You directed Bucky towards the kitchen as you made your way towards the living room.

You pass the chairs jammed in front of the doors, and you remember your panic.

You shuddered--what a mean prank to pull. What kind of psycho talks to people like that?

You slipped your arms into Bucky's jacket to wrap yourself in it. It smelled sharp and sweet from his body wash and cologne blending together. You stuck your hands in the pockets, only to feel something heavy and tube shaped. You pulled it out, curious, turning it over in your hands a few times to investigate.

It was a long cylindrical looking microphone. You assumed it was some sort of film equipment, but why would Bucky bring that along?

“Hello?” You spoke into the mic. But instead of your own voice, the same distorted, crackling voice from the phone came out.

You dropped it. It was like a hot iron in your hand.

You realized Bucky must have heard you too. Your head snapped towards the kitchen. He was walking slowly towards you, a huge chef’s knife from the kitchen was now in his hands.

“Bucky what the hell is this?” You asked, slowly backing away from him.

“I…can explain.” His grip on the knife tightened and he raised his hands in the air as if in surender, never slowing his pace towards you.

“No, I think you need to leave.” You covered your body with your arms, trying not to trip over the furniture.

“No, no, no you’re misunderstanding --” He was getting closer to you, he reached his arms out to try and grab you.

“Leave me alone!” You screamed out as you broke into a run. You made a mad dash to the front door. Bucky was close behind you.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” He cried out as you fumbled with all the locks. Your hands were shaking, you tried to remove the chain from the door but it wasn’t moving fast enough.

Bucky's arm wrapped around your waist and yanked your body into his. His hard bulge poked at your ass.

“No!!” you cried out as you started to thrash around. You quickly stilled as the sharp point of the knife began to dig into your throat.

“Let’s calm down ok. I think you’re getting too worked up again.”

“B-Bucky, just say that it’s a prank. This was all a big prank. I won’t tell anyone. Just put the knife down please.” You try desperately to reason with him. He lets out an unamused grunt.

He began to drag you away from the door. You strained your neck as far as you could to keep the pressure from the knife as minimal as possible.

“You weren’t supposed to find out. Now it’s all ruined. Fuck. Fuuuck!” He growled. Clearly enraged he started to grapple you down to the floor.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You whimpered, tears oozing from the corners of your eyes. Rolling down your cheeks in huge streaks.

“You don’t get it. You never noticed me. All I wanted was for you to notice me. I just had to grease the wheels a little bit, put on a show to make you see…that I’m the guy for you.” He looked crazed. He moved the knife from your neck to your cheek. He caressed it against your cheeks like a lover's hand.

“Bucky please…put down the knife.”

“You’re misunderstanding me, you’re trying to run away! That’s why I have the knife because you need to listen to me. You always listen to the guy with the biggest tool in the room huh? You thought I was Tony. Does he call you up at night a lot or something? Huh?!”

You were just whimpering as he ranted above you. The blunt side of the knife was pressed against your cheek, the shiny metal reflecting into your eyes.

“Well you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” The look in Bucky’s eyes was primal, like he was no longer a man. The charming smile from before was now warped and too large, his lips curling to show his teeth and gums.

“You’re scaring me. Please don’t hurt me!”

“Hurt you? I would never.” He said, not moving the knife from your face. “I’m your boyfriend now. And I’m not going to let anything happen to you again.”

He brought the knife down from your cheek slowly, the sharp tip dragging down your neck. He began to slice the top button off your nightgown.

“Now, you made such beautiful noises for me before. Let me hear you scream, Pumpkin.”

[our-destiny]

Happy Birthday

It's Bucky's birthday, and he knows exactly what present he wants.

Content / Trigger Warnings: Kidnapping, bondage, reference to past stalking, forced blowjob, male masturbation, facial, threat of violence, he calls reader "darling", readers gender is not mentioned, if I missed any please let me know

I suck at summaries and I hate this, but I wanted to write something for his birthday so here it is.

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

Want to read more of my work? Check out my Masterlist

Word Count: 1231

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

The only thing you could see was darkness, a piece of fabric tied over your eyes obscuring your vision. Your entire body felt heavy, head pounding, but despite how terrible your body felt you could tell you were laying down on something soft and comfortable, what feels like a pillow resting beneath your head. Your wrists were tied together, hands resting on your stomach, and after trying to move your legs you found out your ankles were tied together too, by the same smooth fabric that's tied over your eyes. You were still fully clothed which gave you some sense of comfort. Using what little strength you had you wiggled around, trying to get some sense on what was happening. Your movement alerted your captor, the silence of the room suddenly filled with a voice.

"You're awake. Good." It was a man. You could hear the smirk on his face when he said the last word, he almost sounded... excited? Amused? Either way you froze, waiting for him to do something else. Slow footsteps filled the room as he made his way over to you, panic seeped through your veins as you started moving around again.

"I was beginning to think I hit you too hard, I wouldn't put it past me." The way he talked was calculated, he was in control and knew it. "Now, stop moving around darling, I'm not gonna hurt you too bad." The mysterious voice was getting closer, the subtle promise of what was gonna happen made you shiver, fear making it hard to breathe properly. The footsteps stopped at your right, you could only imagine what he looked like standing above you, you tied up on his bed, or at least you guess it's his bed, completely at his mercy.

"You look good like this," his voice sounded deeper than before, as his fingers trailed a path from your right cheek down your body, his touch ghosting gently over your skin as if afraid to apply too much pressure, stopping at the restraints on your ankles. He started rubbing the fabric between his fingers as he spoke again, "I waited so long, watching you, waiting for the right moment to take you." You got more scared by the minute, every breathe feeding the panic bubbling inside you, fighting the urge to scream, the idea that this man has been stalking you, watching you while you weren't aware only adding to the terror. "And I decided tonight was perfect. Tonight on this special occasion I'd finally let myself have you. I deserve it after all. Do you know what today is?" You weren't sure if he wanted an answer, but you shook your head anyway. March 10th. Nothing special was happening today, at least not to your knowledge. At that he gave a slight chuckle, "Of course you don't know, you don't even know who I am. Well, might as well introduce myself." He lifted up your blindfold before taking it all the way off. The dim lighting hurt your eyes for a second, and you barely registered the burgundy walls before you focused on the man who had kidnapped you. Long hair framed his chiselled face, there was a hint of stubble along his sharp jawline, and piercing blue eyes looked down at you almost fondly. But the thing that scared you most was how big he was, he towered over you, he looked like he could crush you without breaking a sweat.

Then you saw it. The sleeves of his red Henley were rolled up to his elbows exposing the silver plates that made up his left arm. If you were scared of him before, you were terrified now.

"Mm. There's those pretty eyes. So full of fear. It's adorable really." Despite what he was saying you couldn't take your eyes off of his arm. It was only when he leaned down over you, hands planted either side of your head, that you could look him in his eyes again. He stared down at you with such intensity, like he wanted to devour you and cherish you and destroy you all at once. His warm breath fanned across your face as he spoke again, "My name is Bucky, and today... is my birthday."

He leaned back up to his full height, his gaze shifting down to your restraints. When you follow his eyes you see that he tied you up with red silk, like you were some kind of fucked up birthday present, wrapped up nicely just for him.

"After all the shit I've been through I deserve something nice for a change." He spoke as if this was normal, still keeping his cold, blue eyes fixed on the silk rendering you defenceless, "I figured you'd make the perfect gift. Just for me. I don't have to share anymore, I own you, once and for all. You're mine, to do whatever I please with."

At that he reached down to unbutton his jeans, the sound of a zipper reaching your ears as you start to panic, but all the words died in your throat when Bucky straddled your chest, the bulge in his pants now right in front of your face. In this position you were even more restrained, only able to kick your bound legs around blindly. He pulled down his boxers just enough to take out his cock, the tip leaking precum, angling it at your mouth using his left hand, the flesh one holding onto the headboard.

"Open wide, I'd hate to break your jaw this early on." You don't doubt that he could snap your jaw before you could blink, and seeing his metal hand up close made submitting seem like the easiest choice. So you licked your lips, and hesitantly opened your mouth, but before you could wrap your lips around the head of his cock, Bucky snapped his hips forward until his cock hit the back of your throat.

"If I feel teeth I'll knock them out," he lets out a low groan as he slides out of your mouth, his metal hand joining the flesh one on the headboard as he starts a brutal pace. His cock hits the back of your throat with every thrust, his thighs surrounding you till he was the only thing you could focus on. You were struggling to breathe, unable to focus on the words tumbling from his lips in a lustful haze, though you could slightly make out some praises about how perfect you were and how good you were taking him. You stopped trying to understand him after hearing that.

After what felt like hours, but was only a few minutes, Bucky pulled out of mouth to start stroking his cock, the mix of saliva and precum making it easy for him to glide his flesh hand up and down his length. You laid there beneath him, gasping for breath while he jerked himself off above you, and after a few more strokes he threw his head back as he came, thick ropes of cum coating your face and landing in your mouth. Bucky kept stroking himself, looking down at your cum covered face, until he slowed to a stop. He caught his breath for a few more seconds before speaking again.

"Oh this was just the beginning, darling. I'm gonna make sure I have a very happy birthday."

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

Reblog if you liked it plz <33

[anonymityisfunwriter]

it will come back.

"i warn you, baby, each night, as sure as you're born, you'll hear me howling at your door..." - hozier, it will come back

pairing: yandere!bucky barnes x reader c.w.: dark!bucky (he definitely does some questionable things, but nothing graphic)

a.n. - it's official, i've become addicted to lower case fics. they're just so much fun. they've got a vibe, you know? anyway, this is my first attempt at a darker bucky, so i hope you enjoy!

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

this is your fault. it’s all your fault.

you know better, or at least, you should have known better.

what else could you expect from a man like him? a man robbed of his humanity for so long. a man so close to ferality. that's who he is in all matters of you, a man more beast than human, no better than an animal when it came to you.

that’s how you should’ve treated him. as a beast. prowling back and forth in their confinement. poised to devour any unlucky soul that got too close. so long as he was caged, you were safe.

you didn’t though. you didn’t treat him like the beast he became the moment he saw you.

maybe in another life, he could've loved you in a normal, sane way. in another life, he could give you the sweetness you deserved. in a life where he wasn't so twisted and tormented, he would have done just that. the flowers. the chocolates. the romance.

but this is love, he tells himself.

this raw, deranged, twisted, obsession.

this is his love.

he loves you.

he swears he does.

in this life, this is the only way he can show you just how much he loves you. just how far he's wiling to go to love you.

something happened to him the moment he set his sights on you. perhaps something broke. perhaps something mended. but maybe this was always who he'd been. all he knows is that heaven is not fit to house the love he has for you.

it didn't matter. the moment he set his sights upon you, you were doomed.

he wanted to scream, to bellow a warning to stay as far away from him as possible.

he stayed silent during that first meeting. his jaw tense, spine straight as an arrow, fists clenched so tight he was sure there would be indents in the metal of his vibranium palm.

"it was nice to meet you, sergeant barnes." you made a point to place yourself in his line of sight, forcing him to look at you in those bright, wide eyes. "i look forward to working with you."

that was your first mistake. he had the strength to stay away. to resist the feeling creeping up his spine. but you just kept rattling his cage. calling out to him with your siren song.

"bucky," you rest your hand on his shoulder. you're trying to soothe him. you don't realize it's a kindness neither you nor him could afford. "it's alright."

he stiffens, that's the first time you've ever touched him. it's the first time he's ever heard his name fall from your lips. not sergeant, not sir, but his name.

his chest heaves, rising and falling as he tries to control himself. you think it's just the adrenaline of the mission. you don't have any idea how overwhelmed he is by your presence.

it's your own kindness that was your undoing, that was his unraveling. years of discipline, years of training, years of strength gone with a touch.

if he didn't love you so much, he'd hate you.

from that moment on, it all spiraled. he spiraled.

he wasn't a patient man, not by any stretch of the imagination. but for you, he'd wait. for you, he'd bide his time.

first, he watches. he watches and look for ways to insert himself into your life. it was almost too easy. for a shield agent, you were careless. doors unlocked. blissfully unaware of your surroundings on long, morning runs. you barely realized how he'd slithered his way onto your missions.

it helped you were vying for his approval, for his adoration. you didn't know that you had it from the moment he saw you. he started slow. inserting himself into your daily routine. a simple good morning. a good night. passing by you in the corridor, always offering a quick grin. he listened to you. to your ideas. your wants. your little anecdotes.

soon, you were close enough to invite him into your apartment. if only you knew that he'd seen it before.

"bucky, we're friends, right?"

he gritted his teeth. friends. no. you weren't friends. you were the love of his life. you were everything he had ever wanted, everything he would ever want. you were the center of his universe. he couldn't tell you that. not yet. "yeah. why do you ask?"

"i just wanted your opinion on this guy."

"a guy?" his voice is so clipped, so gruff, he's shocked you can't hear his teeth grinding together. his fists clench. can't you feel the rage rolling off of him?

"yeah, this agent," you sigh. "he keeps asking me out. i keep trying to let him down easy, but he's not taking the hint."

"oh."

your eyebrows furrow. he almost smiles to himself. you're so aware of him, of what he does or doesn't do. you're worried you upset him. you're worried you shouldn't have told him. he likes that you're this concerned about what he thinks. "should i - i'm sorry i shouldn't have said that to you."

he places his hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. "no, i'm glad you told me."

it was too easy for him to swipe your phone when you weren't looking. too easy for him to find out which agent dared to try to take you from him.

and it was even easier to get the agent paired with bucky on a field mission. just the two of them. overseas in an unfamiliar country. there were just so many things that could go wrong.

he was respected in the avenger's compound. and in this moment, he's glad he put in the work to earn that respect. he didn't think they'd respect him so much if they knew how easy it was for him to sabotage that agent. he couldn't kill the guy, but if a gun shot to the leg wasn't enough of a warning, there were other ways to get him off your back.

all of this was your fault. you opened the cage, whether you knew it or not. you pushed him to this. you showed him the warmth of your doorways.

you could've left him alone. left him to the land. left him to the cold that he knows from the depth of his bones. you should never have let him taste your warmth. you shouldn't have uttered a single word to him, not when he's sat in silence for so long, not when the sound of your honey sweet voice in enough to feed his hungry soul.

you can't show warmth to someone stone cold.

you can't feed someone starved for decades.

you can't show mercy to someone used to the harsh, unyielding world.

you should never have let him in unless you planned on keeping him.

or he'll come back.

"bucky," you pant, running to bucky's room after hearing about his disastrous mission. "i heard - i heard things went wrong on that mission. i thought you were -"

"i'm okay. don't worry." he tries to bite back the smile at the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you were worried about him.

your words come out in short bursts. "i just - the guy - he's the one i told you about - i heard he was shot - and - and that you were on the mission with him-"

"that was the guy who wouldn't leave you alone?" there's an intentional lilt to his voice. of course he knew. but he didn't want to give away just how much he knew. you weren't ready for that. "he's okay, if that's what you're worried about."

"i was worried about you." your eyes lift to his, shining with tears, with admiration. you were so close to putting the final nail in your coffin. "i was so worried about you."

he should tell you to run. the lion should never live with the lamb. if only you'd left him to the land.

"i'm okay. i promise."

run, he silently warns you.

run.

run.

"i just- " your frantic eyes find his again. you don't say another word. you lunge forward, planting your warm hand on the side of his face. your lips meet his in a frenzy.

too late.

it was far, far too late. it was too easy for him to become addicted to your presence. how easy you are for him to need. how easy you are for him to crave.

he'll always come back for more. he'll never be satisfied. he lived deprived for so long.

you should've know the reason they locked him away and threw away the key. he's a greedy beast.

and he's decided, he can't live with a taste. not anymore.

"i just want to talk to you," the agent pleads with you. he follows you down the hallway, still limping on his leg after that gun shot. "just hear me out."

"look," you sigh, stopping for a moment out of pity. "i'm sorry you got hurt, but i've already told you, i'm not interested."

"you're not interested in me, but you're interested in the maniac that had me shot?"

your eyes widen at the accusation. "you're lying. and don't - don't talk about bucky like that."

"i just thought you should know what kind of man you're falling into bed with."

"you're just jealous." you're about to turn on your heels when he grips your bicep forcing you back around. he squeezes tightly, forcing you to stay in place. you look down at the white knuckled grip, "you're hurting me."

"he told me that i should be more careful next time. that next time it wouldn't be in the leg. you should ask him about it."

you wrench your arm from his hold. "stay away the hell from me."

you felt guilty about your reaction. even guiltier when he turned up dead just days later. the details of that assignment were so fuzzy. even an entire investigation turned up nothing.

"i can't believe he's gone," you softly cry into bucky's shoulder. "we were friends for so long, you know?"

"i'm so sorry, that can't be easy for you," bucky coos at you.

"i don't what happened. he was acting so strange the last few months and then we got into that fight. i said terrible things to him."

"you got into a fight?"

"he said some things. about you. about us."

"about me?"

"yeah." you nod, tears still stinging your eyes, but offering no other details of that argument. you didn't want to upset bucky with those strange accusations. "these last few months, he was like a different person. he wasn't the friend i knew. i'm sorry, i know i'm rambling at you. i just - i don't know how to feel."

"you don't have to be sorry," bucky promises, he strokes your back up and down, following the curve of your spine. "i understand."

"thank you." you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. "you're being so sweet to me."

"i would do anything for you."

you're not sure what it is. the inflection of his voice. the way the words fall from his lips without pause. or the intensity with which they ring in your ears. you freeze, peeling yourself out of his embrace. your heart hammers against your chest, the blood pumping faster and faster.

you look up and, for the first time, you get a glimpse of it. those blue eyes are almost unrecognizable. that vibrant blue is gone, replaced by something much darker. almost lupine. feral.

it was the first time you ever flinched away from him. you stumbled back, afraid of him.

if you didn't know better then, you certainly did now.

but it's too late for you. he's supposed to unlearn the warmth of your skin, the taste of your lips? he's supposed to let you go? just like that?

no. not a chance in hell.

he doesn't know why you can't see it. can't you see that blood that stained his hand was for you? that agent will never lay another hand on you. you'll never wince under his grip again. he'll never plant seeds of doubt in your head ever again. you're safe. here. in his arms.

you sent him away that night. but he doesn't care. it doesn't matter. he'll always find his way back to you.

he'll always come back.

can’t you hear him just outside your door?

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

a.n. this is my first attempt at writing a yandere fic, so let me know what you think! reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a@weallhaveadestiny@mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064@michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73@withyoutilltheendoftheline@the-photo-hoe @rae-nna@sarachabeans1

[screechingsandwichtriumph]

Platonic yandere avengers x reader x romantic yandere peter parker

Idek how to begin this so beware unlucky readers

Summary: you are an idol ,you are an avenger. How can they not be slightly a little bit protective of you

Warnings: yandere themes , stalking, obsession, fighting, blood , I think this is it

Also this will include(I'm sorry I didn't exactly do the like main six or whatever) Tony , Steve , Bucky , Clint , Natasha , Wanda , Peter

This is longer than I expected and I kinda don't like it but here it is in its full glory<3

When you joined the team , they blamed their protectiveness over you to your personality

I mean you are so cute and look so innocent , how can they not want to protect you ?

Tony had totally not hacked into every single account that you own / have owned in your life and he absolutely hasn't researcher your dad's Facebook to find childhood pictures of you. And he surely didn't print those out and handed then around in the team. Also expect to be spoilt rotten. Complained once about a stain on your favorite jacket? Have three more of the exact same just in case

Steve claimed to need specifically your help to understand how to operate anything mechanical ad expect to have a lot of movie marathons. He will read you before you sleep even though you are not a child anymore because ' he just liked when he is reading out loud'

Bucky would be the type of person to dig in deep in your life. He wouldn't stalk you specifically. That is tasked to someone else. No . He would stalk Al your friends and all your exes and highschool teachers.ad if he had to he would accidentally make some of them he consider bad influences disappear

Clint along with Natasha are your stalkers

Clint will always be hidden close by in case you need help with something (like , idk someone dead?) and my man could literally enter your home , casually look around a bit , stare at your decorations , and be out without you even realizing he was never there

Natasha on the other hand isn't so subtle. You could easily spot her on the other end of the street wearing sunglasses and staring at you intensely. Once you were in a bookstore admiring some books and stationary that you did not buy and the next day they were at your door with a little note that said ' saw them and they reminded me of you - Natasha ' as if you hadn't seen her looking at you. It isn't even that she is stupid . She just doesn't care

Wanda practically lived at your head at this point knowing things about you , you were barely aware of. Like , what do you mean you can't remember that one time you went snowboarding and fell? What do you mean how she knows that story and that you never told her? Of course you did silly!

Peter now was clearly in live with you and the first to meet you and get obsessed over you. When after some time he went to Tony and told him about his feelings , Tony supported his feelings to the max since this could be beneficial for all of them. Peter would never leave , they trusted him and he could keep you close.

Now you seem like a soft baby that needs protection from everyone ands that's mainly due to the way you present yourself and act. You have the most bubbly soft personality and everyone loves that

Being an idol , and an avenger was a dream come true for you , so when you had a big show and gave to them tickets to come see you they of course came( Tony almost bought all tha tickets so it could be only you but Steve stopped him)

Heating a music so fitting to your aesthetic it was like they fell in love (platonically and romantically for Peter) all over again. You are just so sweet and cute

Then a day came where an attack happened in new York and all of you jumped to action. They had no time to stop you from going to battle or even think about doing it really. The only think they could do was act.

Now , your powers were so incredibly powerful that they never thought you would have to fight face to face with someone. But they were terrible wrong

Once the fight was over they all spotted you on the corner of a building with bloody fists and a small trail of blood staining your pretty pink costume. A fan of yours was there asking you to take a picture . You kindly smiled at the camera revealing a set of bloody teeth.

Your fan seemed super excited at that and almost yelled out in joy. You bid her goodbye and went towards the group of your shocked friends

They all just stared at you in an unusually bloody shape , that somehow seemed fitting (?)

Later on they were shown a video of you with a bunch of people , that you were brutally fighting with . They were all left to shreds when you left your head held high.( Peter was even more into you after that)

Asks are always open<3

[yandere-wishes]

The amount of times I've yelled "I'd marry him!!" To a completely deranged and evil fiction man is quite concerning.

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

id lovee to hear ur rankings of the comic book men from appearing to be the most normal to something is obviously wrong w them (if that makes sense... like,,,, who is and isnt an obv red flag)

ur writing keeps me fed :3

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐒…

!!! GN reader, manipulation, gaslighting, mentions of stalker-ish picture-taking, mentions of schizophrenia and anxiety, poor treatment of mental illness, mentions of violent behaviors, murderous Bucky Barnes, Tim Drake (he’s just a problem), mentions of suicidal tendencies, can be translated as platonic or romantic.

EAAAAATT!!!!! EEEEAAAAATTTT!!!!!!!!! EAT MY WRITING!!!! CONSUME IT!!!!!!!!!!!

Remember, this is from least to most, meaning we’ll talk about the seemingly well-adjusted folks first and gradually move up to the, “okay, what the fuck is wrong with him” peeps.

Wally West: The way he’s playing everyone like a fiddle is downright disrespectful. He’s filled to the brim with green flags, easily appearing as one of the safest guys on the planet. Even when you start to suspect something, you have to constantly second guess yourself, because come on… it’s Wally. What the fuck can he do wrong? Don’t even bother voicing any of your concerns. No one — and I mean no one — will believe you. Having problems with Wally West? The embodiment of a warm summer evening? Damn, that sounds like a you problem. Poor Wally, having to deal with a crazy weirdo.

Dick Grayson: He’s got an amazing personality and pretty privilege working for him. At this rate, the masses manipulate themselves. Only those who are extremely perceptive will pick up on the cold glint in his eyes, and even then, the mystique only adds to his charm. By the time you realize he’s been hiding a darker side, it’s too late. Everyone’s too captivated by how endearing Dick is to hear you out. Even those who know him personally — who know about his struggles and rough patches — think you’re full of shit. Dick’s an emotionally mature man, so why don’t you just talk it out with him?

Steve Rogers: This is a bit unfair, considering the leverage he’s granted as Captain America, but hey… work what you got. While it may seem obvious to you that he’s way too overbearing and protective, good luck trying to get other people on your side. Everyone else thinks it’s a part of his 40s charm. Social norms were just different back then; why can’t you be more appreciative of his old-fashioned care? Besides, you’re probably overreacting. Is it really that bad? Steve is the leader of the Avengers, so maybe you’re just taking his authoritative demeanor the wrong way.

Clark Kent: I’m gonna be so for real, any man from a fuckass state like Kansas is going to come with some personality quirks. People will probably give him the benefit of the doubt by default. Just a farm boy trying to navigate the big city and can’t even hurt a fly. Sure, he can be odd at times, but nothing makes him an inherently bad guy. This is the same man that helps old people cross the street, for god’s sake! He most definitely means well, it’s just a matter of setting boundaries with him. What’s the worst he can do?

Remy LeBeau: Despite what differing opinions may say about The Gambit, Remy seems like he’s got his head on his shoulders. His “red flags” are more on the blurry side. Do you count excessive flirting as a red flag? What about hiding behind charisma and a fake ego instead of going to therapy? Some people may say yes, others no. But in terms of glaring red flags, Remy’s relatively clean. We’ve all got our issues, no? Being a thief doesn’t make you a psycho. That being said, due to Remy’s shifty past, people may be more inclined to listen should you ever express that something’s wrong.

Peter Parker: Honestly… he’s a bit of a weirdo. Nothing obvious at first, but the longer you know him, the more behaviors you may pick up on that make you go, “oh… well… that’s weird”. Take his Polaroid obsession, for example. He’s got at least one photo in every jacket pocket, dozens in his wallet, and a fuck ton in his desk. Poor guy accidentally spilled them all over the ground once, which naturally sparked rumors. But Peter’s a sweetheart. Clingy, but still a sweetheart. Maybe he’s just a little messed up due to everything he’s lost in his life.

Bruce Wayne: Okay. Red flags in the playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne? Absolutely unheard of. He’s an absolute angel. According to all of the stan accounts out there, he could do nothing wrong. But red flags in the real Bruce Wayne? Where do we even begin. Distrusting as fuck, paranoid, argumentative, the occasional fit of violence, a known manipulator and liar… want me to keep going, because I can. It’s very hard to rank Bruce due to the ginormous contrast between general public opinion and those who actually know him, so he goes smack in the middle. Billionaire Bruce Wayne would never be a horrible person to you, but the real Bruce Wayne 100% would.

Jaime Reyes: Because of how mental illness is stigmatized, Jaime’s unfortunately labeled to be dangerous. But it’s not really his fault. That damn scarab has him muttering to himself like a crackhead, and naturally assumptions will be made. When actually given a chance, people will learn that Jaime’s a nice kid. He just probably struggles with schizophrenia or really bad anxiety. Yes, his paranoia can get bad, but again; mental illness. He’s never proven himself to a threat, despite what others may think. He just needs help (but there’s no way to combat the manipulation of Khaji Da. Jaime lost that battle the moment he became Blue Beetle).

Hal Jordan: Oh, yeah. He’s got red flags alright. But they’re mostly normal ones, like his ego and horrendous stubborn streak. Lots of guys out there are like that, and are they considered freaks? No. Well, not all of them. However, it is a bit concerning that he’s willing to throw hands at the drop of a hat. Bro’s one major freak out away from catching assault charges like they’re Pokémon. But if it’s any consolation, it should be noted that he hasn’t gotten into major legal trouble. On Earth. Yet. Some call him rough around the edges, others call him a severely troubled individual. Either way, he definitely needs to seek professional help.

Scott Summers: MAJOR red flags. He’s an overbearing control freak that really needs to work on his… well… his everything. Emotional intelligence, temper, daddy issues… yeah, no. He’s an amazing leader, but probably someone you should steer clear from otherwise. Most wouldn’t be surprised if you two were having issues. It’s not like he wears all of his problems on his sleeve; the iceberg goes much deeper than that. Though he sure as hell doesn’t present himself as a well-adjusted member of society. Proceed at your own risk. Don’t say you weren’t warned, because you probably were.

Bucky Barnes: This is the opposite of Captain America’s case. His reputation as the Winter Soldier kind of skews the perception of him to be a walking red flag. And you know, he really is. Bucky is extremely dangerous. Down to snap necks anytime, anywhere, no amount of charm or endearing quirks will make people feel fully safe around him. His history of violence did not stop post-brainwashing. And it’s not like he’s hiding it, either. There’s this crazed gleam in his eyes that just screams “fuck around and find out,” no matter what his mood is. Who in their right mind would involve themself with THE Winter Soldier?! Yeah, no shit you’re having issues with him. He is an issue.

Tim Drake: Bro is the epitome of “you’re scaring the hoes.” He could be walking down the street — face neutral, hands in his pockets — and total strangers will get the sense that something is deeply wrong with him. The aura around him exudes the reddest of flags. Yes, his face and intelligence are attractive, but even those who have fallen for his pretty boy swag can’t help but sigh dreamily and think, “he really needs to be institutionalized.” Disturbing humor. Creepy staring. Mood swings. Suicidal tendencies. Sadomasochism to the max. The list goes on and on and on. If Dead Dove: Do Not Eat was a person, it’d be him. What were you expecting? It’s Tim fucking Drake.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Mistake

Pairing. Dark Bucky Barnes x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Rule number one in your relation - never try to leave Bucky.

WARNINGS: Violence; Toxic Relationship. 

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

His metal fingers squeeze hard against your throat, his hold unwavering even with your nails weakly clawing at him. Your eyes roll, your body desperate for air. 

Bucky clicks his tongue, faking a pout. 

“Aw, my baby can’t breathe?” he mocks you, but you can’t bring yourself to care about his tone. Not when your lungs are painfully burning, strength leaving your body at an alarming pace.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before trying to rat out on me, babe. I don’t appreciate my girl being sneaky around my back.” he growls, all hints of mockery now gone.

His grip tightens and you cough, the lack of air hitting cryptic levels as you start to hyperventilate. 

Bucky reaches closer, nuzzling your nose with his in an almost endearing gesture, one that contrasts with the evil position he has you in. 

“Never again, okay? You’re not pulling that type of shit ever again, understood?” his voice is dead serious, ignoring how you struggle. You can barely say a word but Bucky somehow understands your submission, finally releasing you.

You fall on the ground with your body completely limp, your throat burning as precious air finally fills it. 

“You better not repeat this again.” he orders, darkness looming over his face as he looks at you. 

“Cause next time, you won’t get off the hook so easily.”   

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

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Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist