#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

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Word count: 1027

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

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."

[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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@wandalfnation

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

Could you do platonic yandere Bucky barnes x teen reader who is a super soilder. The reader is like 13-14 and was apart of Hydra like him but escaped. After the avengers and bucky find reader, bucky takes them under is wing after the reader escaped hydra

「 LITTLE SOLDIER 」

Synopsis; Trapped in the darkness of his obsession, desperately seeks to reclaim a child lost in his past. After discovering that someone else has taken him in, his broken and twisted mind drives him to commit an unimaginable act of violence. Is it salvation, or a curse? In Bucky's mind, everything makes sense. But who is the true monster here?

Pairing ── James 'Bucky' Barnes x Super Soldier! Teen! Reader. (Platonic!)

Content. MDNI ⚠︎ ── Dark themes, violence/death, blood, insolation, invasion of privacy, kidnapping?, delusion, Angst, murdering, child abuse, Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation.

A/N ── English is not my first language — Spanish — Ahhh, it took me forever to post this, I know . I’m so sorry! I got so caught up in other things that I completely forgot about how the Winter Soldier was… and now that I’ve seen him again, what a nostalgia hit! It’s like time hasn’t passed, but at the same time, everything feels so different. Like every time you see him, you discover something new about him, you know?

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... observed the way your eyes filled with terror as you saw him, a mix of fear and confusion, like a creature trapped in a cage, unsure how to escape. Hydra had molded you, but it had also stripped you of your essence. Like many before you, you were a piece of a gear, meant to be used, controlled, and destroyed when no longer needed. You didn’t understand why you had been chosen for the experiments or how you had ended up here, you only knew you were fragile and that nothing in Hydra was truly "safe."

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... approached you with calculated coldness, like a shadow crawling in the dark. His gaze, initially empty due to the lobotomy, seemed to fixate on you now, as if a spark of humanity had reignited in his mind. His eyes didn’t shine with empathy, but with a dangerous curiosity. "Little one... how did you survive?" he murmured, more to himself than to you. The idea that someone so fragile could endure Hydra’s tortures, the serum, the constant pressure, intrigued him. But that curiosity soon turned into obsession. The protection he felt for you wasn’t a natural instinct, but one imposed by Hydra, who had ordered him to watch over you, keep you alive, but also keep you under control. You didn’t know that control would become your worst nightmare.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... watched as you were subjected to more and more experiments. The nights of training were long, endless, filled with violence and blood. But the worst part wasn’t Hydra’s violence, but the way Bucky treated you. Sometimes, his low and calm voice filtered through the screams of others, speaking to you in a tone that seemed meant to be reassuring, but deep down, it chilled your blood. "Don't worry, you'll do fine. Everything will be fine, you just have to follow my orders." What else could you do but obey? Desperation, the feeling of being trapped in an endless cycle of pain and humiliation, enveloped you like a cloak. And he... he was there, always watching, always waiting. But Sometimes, when your eyes met his, you saw something else, something that made you shudder: the echo of the darkness that once was Bucky, the shadow that could no longer be erased

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... began following you with palpable obsession, as if you were his property, an object he had to protect at all costs. He no longer confined himself to Hydra’s orders. He found you in every corner of the facility, his presence a constant shadow behind you. "Don’t stray from me, do you hear?" His voice was colder, sharper. Every time you tried to escape, even in your thoughts, the fear of facing him became a constant threat. But something in his gaze had changed, and it wasn’t concern for your well-being. It was control. It was possession. And you had become just another pawn in his game, as captive to him as you were to Hydra.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... mistreated you in ways you couldn’t comprehend, and the worst part was that after every hit, every cruel order, he would always return to you with a vacant smile, repeating the same words: "I do this for your own good." Why did he do it? Was that his way of showing you there was still some humanity left in him? Or perhaps, he could no longer distinguish between his own identity and Hydra’s orders. Every time he hit you, every time he left you marked, you could feel the confusion in his gaze, as if it wasn’t him acting, but something bigger, darker, that had taken his place.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... after the last failed mission, when you faced an enemy stronger than you could handle, Bucky took you to his side, pressing you against his chest, soaking you in his blood and yours. "Don’t worry, I won’t let them hurt you," he whispered, his voice rough and full of desperation. The obsession he had felt for you, growing over the years, exploded in a scream. He wanted you to know that you, you alone, belonged to him. And though he feared you, that obsession had replaced everything else. Hydra had turned Bucky into a machine, but now he only wanted to have you under his control, beyond what he understood or wanted to admit.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... was no longer just a Hydra soldier. He was a monster created by the shadows of the past, and your presence in his life was the only thing that kept him tied to something human, something he could never control. He looked at you with blind madness, he needed you, but worst of all: he feared you. And while he kept you captive with his cold hands and broken mind, what was left of his humanity slowly faded, leaving only a sick need that not even he could comprehend.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... saw you fade into the shadows, like a whisper in the dark, escaping from his reach. Panic struck him like a torrent, but not in the way one might expect. It wasn’t just the fear of losing you, but the feeling that something had been taken from him, something he could not recover. You had escaped, and it was his fault. Hydra wasn’t going to let him go so easily. With a roar of fury, he ran through the hallways, his heart pounding. "Come back here! Don’t you dare run from me!" he would shout, but his voice only echoed in the empty corners, with no answer. He knew it was too late, that you had already escaped, and something inside him began to break, a part of his mind crumbling under the weight of his own guilt.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... felt Hydra drag him back into their control, like a shadow that devoured him slowly. The anxiety of losing you wasn’t just a worry, but a madness that ate away at him from the inside. His superiors, with their cold and commanding voices, ordered him not to pursue you, to let you go. "You are nothing but a tool for us, Soldier. If she escapes, it doesn’t matter. You must complete your mission." But Bucky didn’t listen. He couldn’t listen. All he could hear was the sound of your breath, your distress, and how your figure faded from his reach. All he wanted was to see you again, to take your hand, and never let you go. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t escape Hydra’s grasp.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... was once again subjected to Hydra’s yoke, as if he were a machine with no right to feel. Every attempt to escape their control was useless. Every attempt to rebel against what was expected of him only led to deeper torture. Physical pain, mental pain, it didn’t matter. He felt nothing anymore, only the constant sting of despair over your loss. Hydra had broken him once again, but this time, the feeling of losing you consumed him in a far worse way. You were gone, and he was to blame. How could he have allowed you to escape? How could he have failed to protect you?

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... in his desperation, sank into madness. He became a wandering specter within Hydra’s facility, every dark corner becoming more torturous than the last. Every second, his mind fragmented, the images of your face, your frightened eyes, repeating over and over like an echo he couldn’t silence. "You’ll come back, right? You’ll come back to me..." he whispered alone, but there was no answer. And when Hydra finally decided to send him on a mission against the heroes, his mind was on the edge of collapse. It was yet another sacrifice by the same machinery that had created him.

Yandere! WS! Bucky Barnes who... when the Avengers found him and freed him from their control, reality hit him hard. The internal war between his desire for redemption and his madness over losing you exploded in his chest, like an emptiness so deep it seemed to swallow everything. There, in the midst of battle, the truth crushed him: “I let you escape… I failed you...” Panic enveloped him, and his teammates, while helping clear his mind of Hydra’s shadows, didn’t know the truth behind his suffering. They knew Bucky had been manipulated, but they never understood that for him, the true enemy had been guilt. The guilt of letting you slip away, the guilt of not keeping you under his control, of not protecting you when it was his only mission.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... had spent so long, years, fighting to find something that would redeem him, something that would pull him out of the abyss Hydra had thrown him into. The Avengers had accepted him, and little by little, the darkness that once dominated his mind began to fade. He had reconciled with Steve Rogers, his old friend, his brother. The wounds of the past began to heal, and at last, Bucky could feel something close to peace. He had found a purpose fighting alongside the heroes, protecting the innocent, trying to make right all the destruction he had caused in his life. But though his soul seemed to find some calm, his heart was still a battlefield. The obsession with you never disappeared. It was something that stayed hidden in the depths of his mind, where guilt and despair never completely abandoned him. Every time someone mentioned a child or a young person with traits or abilities similar to yours, a shiver ran down his spine. What if it was you? What if he found you again? That was always his broken hope, his private demon that never stopped haunting him.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... walked through the city on a regular day, like any other, without expecting something so deep and disturbing to happen. The air was fresh, and the city thrummed with the normality of everyday life. Children played in the park, adults walked calmly, unaware that something sinister lurked in the shadows. It was then that he saw him. A teenager, about 13 or 14 years old, with his hair falling messily over his forehead. But it was something more that made Bucky freeze in his place: that small mark on his arm, almost faded, but unmistakable. The same Hydra mark that had been etched into your skin, the symbol that had marked him too, that had made him its own. The mark he would never forget.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... felt like the world was crumbling beneath his feet. His heart began to race, his breathing erratic. It couldn’t be... It couldn’t be that after all this time, after all the suffering, after the guilt he had carried for years, he would find you like this, so close, yet so far. His legs trembled, his fingers clenched into fists, trying to hold on to any semblance of sanity while the emotion drowned him. The teenager didn’t look at him, distracted by his own thoughts, but Bucky couldn’t stop staring at him, observing every small detail. Everything about him screamed that it was you. "It’s... It’s my child." He thought, but his mind was so fragmented that he didn’t know what to do with the feeling overtaking him. Terror and hope mixed like poison in his veins.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... began to walk slowly, as if approaching a specter, as if he feared that by getting closer, the dream would vanish. The elderly couple didn’t notice him, and the teenager remained as oblivious to his presence as if everything were in place. But Bucky knew something had changed, that this was the opportunity he had been waiting for, even though his mind was so confused he didn’t know if it was a dream or a nightmare. Each step he took toward you made him feel more and more desperate, more anxious, as if an abyss were opening beneath his feet. "Should I do it? Should I get closer? Would he want to see me?" he thought, his hands trembling with uncertainty and guilt. Time had passed, but for him, the child he had lost was still the same, and his madness made him think that maybe he could still fix it, repair what he had destroyed, as if he could take your hand again and tell you everything would be fine.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... finally crossed the threshold of doubt. With each step toward you, his mind emptied of logic, and the only thing he felt was a wild urgency, a deep desire for everything to return to how it was before. He only thought of the child he had let go, the child who had been marked by Hydra, the child who was now here, in front of him, unaware that his savior was also his jailer. With his heart pounding, a mixture of fear and hope, Bucky took the last step and stood before you, his gaze filled with twisted and anxious devotion, while his lips whispered almost breathlessly, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. "It’s you... it’s really you, right?"

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... watched as your face, upon noticing his presence, transformed from a calm expression to one of pure panic. The eyes of that teenager widened as if he had seen a ghost, his body instinctively recoiling, a visceral reaction to seeing him. The fear reflected in your gaze was like a dagger stabbed into his chest. His fractured and obsessed mind didn’t understand what was happening at that very moment. He couldn’t comprehend how, after everything he had done, after the life he had stolen from you, you could still be so afraid of him.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... felt something twist inside him. It was pain, but also anxiety, a sensation that suffocated him when he saw you take a step back, trembling all over. And then, to his horror, something he hadn’t anticipated: you started to cry. Tears began to stream from your eyes, as if your body couldn’t contain the fear any longer, and Bucky froze at that moment. How could it be that he caused you so much pain, even now? "No... I didn’t want to scare you," he thought, but his thoughts couldn’t reach you. The horror in your face was a warning that you never, ever wanted to see that monster you once were again.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... watched as you turned and began to run, your figure quickly disappearing into the crowd. Anguish enveloped him, the fear of losing you again made him react in desperation. He tried to reach you, to shout at you, but his legs seemed incapable of moving quickly enough. "Wait, please!" he screamed in his mind, but the words didn’t leave his lips, they were trapped in a sea of madness. You were gone. And Bucky, with a broken heart, stood there frozen as your figure vanished before him, like an illusion he couldn’t hold onto.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t let the tragedy repeat itself. Using his sharp tracking skills, he delved into Stark and SHIELD’s technology, recovering all available resources to follow you, to know who you were now. The Avengers helped him, yes, but what he needed most was to find an answer, a solution, something that would lead him to you. Every second that passed without knowing about you was driving him crazy, feeding his need for possession, his urgency to have you, to protect you, to reclaim you.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... for days, Bucky unearthed information, tracked records, and dove into the Stark and SHIELD databases. Nothing stopped him. He knew your Hydra mark would give you away, that even if the scar was almost erased, someone, somewhere, would know something. And so, it was how he finally uncovered the truth: you had been adopted by a local family in the city. In fact, they lived in a quiet neighborhood, far from everything that could have been your past. A loving family, seemingly, who had given you a home and a life he could never offer. The revelation overwhelmed him. They had forgotten you, but to him, you were no ordinary child. You would always be his child, the one he had left behind and now could not let go.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... felt a growing rage inside him as he clung to the new information. How could someone else take his place? How could he allow it? The people who had adopted you, those strangers who treated you as their son, didn’t know what was behind you. They didn’t know what Hydra had done to you, what he had done, what he had promised you. And in Bucky’s mind, that only meant one thing: he wasn’t going to let them go on with their peaceful life. You belonged to him, and although the idea of being a father terrified and disgusted him, to Bucky, all of that boiled down to an unhealthy obsession with possessing what he had lost. Reconciliation with his own past didn’t matter because, at that moment, only you mattered.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... couldn’t stop thinking about how, after everything that had happened, you could be happy with a life he hadn’t been able to give you. But the guilt consumed him. Every time he thought about the family that had adopted you, his mind filled with dark shadows, disturbing thoughts about what he could do to "protect" you from them. He knew his obsession was becoming more dangerous, darker, but he could no longer stop. He couldn’t lose you again.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... couldn’t bear the fact that someone else had you, someone who didn’t know your pain, your suffering, or your true story. When he found the house where you lived, his mind twisted even more. Steve’s warning still echoed in his ears, his friend insisting: "Bucky, don’t do this. You can’t go on with this madness." But the warning was useless. To him, there was no turning back. Steve’s words no longer had power over him, fear, guilt, or remorse faded into the darkness. The only thing left was the sick desire to have you back, to "save" you from those people who were "usurping" you.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... infiltrated the house, getting rid of any security or surveillance as if they were mere obstacles in his way. No one in the house knew what was about to happen. The darkness of the night enveloped him as his footsteps echoed silently down the hallway. He moved with the precision of a predator, his breathing calm and cold, knowing exactly what he was going to do. The first victim was the adoptive father, a man who never saw the danger coming, a lethal shadow that pounced on him, and before he could react, Bucky had already silenced him brutally. With a precise blow, the blood spilled mercilessly, staining the floor and walls as Bucky continued his mission without a hint of emotion on his face.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... killed the adoptive mother with the same efficiency. It didn’t matter who they were, whether they were young or old, if they had raised the child with love, their presence in the life of his child was the only thing that mattered. As his knife sank in again and again, the blood flowing from the victims formed a river of chaos and death. The rooms of the other adopted siblings became a massacre without remorse, their bodies fallen in silence, as if their lives had no value in the face of his obsession with you. The metallic shine of the blood on the walls, the way the lights reflected on the surfaces of the house, only fueled his euphoria. No one in the house survived, they all fell to his unstoppable violence.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... finally ascended the stairs, his mind shadowed by what he had just done, but without remorse. He reached your room and stopped at the door. You could hear his breathing, heavy but calm, as if everything was under his control. And then, he saw something that made him smile, that twisted and macabre smile only he could show: you. You were asleep, unaware of the chaos that had just unfolded downstairs. There was no way you could hear the screams, the sounds of blood being spilled. You were just there, resting as if nothing had happened.

Yandere! Bucky Barnes who... approached your bed, his hand trembling slightly as he watched you. The horror of what he had done no longer mattered. The only concern in his mind was seeing you, the child he had lost, again. You belonged to him. Madness enveloped him as he looked at your innocent face. He leaned down to you, and in a soft voice, he whispered through subtle laughs, his warm breath on your ear: "I’m so happy to see you, little soldier. You don’t have to be afraid anymore. No one will hurt you again." The softness of his words completely contradicted the sea of blood he had left behind, but to him, it all made sense. He had brought you back. Finally, after so much suffering and pain, he had claimed you.

The floor was covered in blood, the echoes of the massacre ringing in his mind, but all he could focus on was you. You, his lost child, his little soldier. He watched you while you slept, completely unaware of what had just happened around you. And despite the violence, despite how horrible everything had been, he was happy. He knew that from now on, everything he touched, everything he desired, he would steal for himself. And finally, Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, felt that his life had regained something he could never have: control.

[iamzer0]

𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙘 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨

𝘈/𝘕: 𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘏𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘟 𝘏𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘓𝘰𝘬𝘪, 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦

𝙏𝙤𝙣𝙮 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙠

Y’all met through an internship, y’all worked together on a plethora of projects.

You were working on a project at home, it was a mini engine that if worked would power a multitude of things.

But one thing lead to another and next thing you know it explodes. Your parents/guardians got the blunt of it, they died in the hospital.

You were taken in by none other than Tony fricken Stark, every persons dream right…?

It would be nice and all if you weren’t currently grieving the loss of your parents. He tried to help, but it only made things worse.

You felt almost trapped mostly because you kinda were, you weren’t aloud to do anything. You couldn’t go in the kitchen, couldn’t go in the lab, couldn’t use any tech that wasn’t highly monitored, couldn’t even leave.

In Tony’s defense, he was doing this to protect you but I came off more like kidnapping rather than protective parenting.

He was scared to lose you, after the near death experience he became much more possessive, scared that if he turned his back you would be gone.

You became depressed, staying in your bed, rotting. You were grieving and Tony certainly wasn’t helping.

"𝘼𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙩? 𝙞 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚" 𝘛𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 "𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩...𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙜𝙤 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮.."

𝘽𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧

You were a kid of a fellow colleague, unfortunately for you your parents loved their work more than you.

They tested all kinds of serums and medicines on you, you gained some uncontrollable abilities. Your parents died due to radiation poisoning from something in their lab.

Naturally you were sent to live with your godfather, Bruce Banner.

He realized your abilities early on, as every thing in his penthouse was currently on the roof.

He helped you learn to control your abilities and emotions, while simultaneously bonding.

He was a nice guy, he gave you a good life. But unfortunately he wouldn’t let you leave like at all.

He say its for your protection but you call bullshit.

"𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙥 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨." 𝘉𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 "𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙝𝙮𝙥𝙤𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳.

You weren’t scared of the hulk, you knew he would never hurt you. The hulk liked you so he tried to gentle towards you every time he came out.

But even the hulk won’t let you leave.

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙍𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨

You were kidnapped by hydra when you were a child, they wanted to test a new serum on you.

Fortunately for you the avengers busted down the base before they could do anything to you. It was a simple mission get in bust down the base and get out.

But guess who they stumbled upon, little old you(you are like 12-14yrs). Of course they took you back with them.

Steve felt almost drawn to you, you reminded him of himself before the super serum.

He basically took you under his wing, but it became less training more spending time together. But as he took on a more parental role in your life his traditional way of thinking started to shine through.

First off he didn’t let you use anything internet related no phone, no tablet, etc. He also had some real traditional views on family, in his mind children were meant to stay home while the adult worked.

It was incredibly boring considering he took away the radio after he found you taking it apart in an attempt to use the wires inside to escape.

"𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙩𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙩𝙤 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧" 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘰��𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 "𝙞 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜... 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚..𝙮𝙤𝙪" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘣𝘴.

𝘽𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝘽𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨

You were kidnapped by hydra when you were just 4 because of your powers, healing.

When Bucky was the winter soldier he was pretty prominent figure in your life. Every time he was injured, they made him come to you.

He couldn’t understand his feelings, but he liked your presence a lot it was like a shining light he never knew he needed. He would go as far to injure himself just to be near you.

When the soldier went back to being Bucky he almost immediately went to go get you.

The rest of the team couldn’t understand why he was so attached to this random traumatized teenager but not much they could do.

Bucky was incredibly paranoid so much so that y’all slept in the same room sometimes the same bed because he was scared that if he let you out his sight something bad would happen.

When the soldier would come out he would sorta just come up to you and hug/hold you it was strange but it stopped the soldier from being violent.

It kinda felt like a hostage situation, the air was always tense and you felt forever on edge. He scared you and his paranoia certainly did not help your fears.

"𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝘽𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 "𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙃𝙮𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪" 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 "𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 2 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚!" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮.

𝙉𝙖𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙖 𝙍𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙛𝙛

You were a kid she found abandoned in some old hydra base. She went through it looking for some abandoned documents.

But instead found you hunched in a corner, scared. She tried to coax you out but you swiped at her anytime she came close.

She ended up having to knock you out, she took you back to the tower.

It was a rough adjustment, especially considering you didn’t speak much English.

You bonded with Natasha, she gave you a sense of safety. The closer y’all got the more protective she became.

Something in her sorta changed the day you started calling her mom. She didn’t bother correcting you, it felt right to be called ‘mom’.

She felt this undying urge to protect you. It got to a point to where she would barely let anyone even interact with you.

She was essentially isolating you, though you couldn’t understand it you could almost feel her protection turn more malicious rather than loving.

"𝙢-𝙢𝙤𝙢 𝙞 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 "𝙤, 𝙢𝙤𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙠𝙖 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣"

𝙏𝙝𝙤𝙧

Your parents managed to piss off a sorcerer, the sorcerer did not take kindly to your parents disrespect. He went after the one thing they loved more than themselves, you.

He sent you away, quite literally. Next thing you know you are falling out of the sky, take a wild guess who you fell into.

None other than The prince of Asgard himself, Thor.

He took you in, you liked it at first. I mean you lived like royalty, stomach always full, a giant room, servants there 24/7.

Everything was amazing, until you became homesick. You missed your home, your friends, your family.

He loved you, a lot. He couldn’t bare to see you sad, but he also didn’t want you to leave. You were his beacon of hope, his Midgard child.

That’s why when he discovered a way to bring you back, he chose not to. But he couldn’t keep the truth from you forever.

His own brother told you about your “fathers” secret. From that day on you hated Thor.

You hated his protective nature, the way he wouldn’t let you leave at all without him.

"𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣, 𝙈𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙙𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚" 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. "....." 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘴.

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚

You were the child of a sorcerer, that happened to be close with Dr.strange. You were around 10-12 when your parent tragically died, took to many pills.

Stephan took you in, in your time of grief you clung to him like he was your life line. You followed him around, not caring where he went you just didn’t want to be alone.

Stephan found it annoying at first but grew to love your clinging, it was oddly comforting.

He grew to see you as this innocent little kid that needed to be sheltered. You didn’t care if you were outside or inside but you just didn’t want to be alone.

Things changed when you started to heal from your parents death, you were much less clingy and would rather do your own thing rather than follow Stephan around like a lost puppy.

Though he wouldn’t admit it this was upsetting to him, he quite enjoyed your presence.

Even with you getting over your parents death, things kinda remained the same. Stephan still saw you as this innocent child that needs to be sheltered from the harsh world.

You hated it it was almost infantilizing, you tried leaving multiple times but there was no point no matter where you went Stephan could just simply teleport you back.

"𝙄𝙈 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝙎𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝙆𝙄𝘿, 𝙄 𝘾𝘼𝙉 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙔𝙎𝙇𝙀𝙁!!" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘢𝘯, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 "𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙙𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚" 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵.

𝙇𝙤𝙠𝙞

Loki was out doing a task for the grandmaster then he found himself in trouble, he was about to flee but then you dropped in, literally.

You dropped onto his attacker, attacking him with a makeshift knife. The rest of the group fled while you robbed the attacker. Loki stood there partially in shock the other part being amazement.

You gave him a simple nod before turning to leave, but Loki quickly stopped you by putting a hand on your shoulder.

That was the day your life changed.

Loki had a lot more in common with you than he cared to admit, you were something else, something special.

Basically you had a rags to riches type story because after Loki took you in your life did a complete 180. You could see he definitely cared about you, but if he truly loved you why were you so….. isolated?

It was a good life but you never saw anyone, ever. Loki was always there but you grew tired of only seeing him. You wanted more.

You were tired of the same old boring place, so you tried to venture out, bad move.

He almost immediately found you, after that he decided he couldn’t trust you. So he chained you to your bedpost.

It was a boring life when Loki wasn’t there you only had books to keep you company, and you had grown tired of reading long ago.

You started expressing your frustration and anger, in the form of yelling. He always made some bullshit reason up on why it was better if you stayed by him.

"𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙚𝙚? 𝙒𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙞𝙣" 𝘓𝘰𝘬𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳.

𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙥𝙤𝙤𝙡

Unlike everyone else you were his actual kid, product of a hookup before Vanessa. But he still loved you when he found out you existed.

You came to live with him, mostly because your mom couldn’t “handle you anymore” so she shipped you off to your dads.

Y’all bonded surprisingly quick, y’all were basically best friends within the first hour of living there.

He of course had somethings he really didn’t want you to see, one was his face. He had some deep rooted fear he could never admit to that if you saw what was under the mask you would leave.

Of course that wasn’t true, you honestly didn’t care what he looked like. That made him even more attached to you.

He is incredibly lenient, about everything.

He becomes must for possessive as time passes on and it’s incredibly noticeable. Naturally you want to leave for a little bit so you do, there’s no locks on the door so it’s not hard to just leave.

It’s not that he doesn’t care if you leave it’s that he knows he can get you back easily if you do leave.

But there comes a point in time where enough is enough and that point happened when you had escaped for the 4th time this week and it’s Tuesday.

Drastic times call for drastic measures, like chaining you to the wall.

"𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙪𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚" 𝘸𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 "𝘼𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙠𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘭𝘦.

A/N: I’m backkkkkkk, I low key really missed writing. Anyway I’m trying something new, let me know if y’all like it. I will be posting Hxh content but I wanna branch out a lil.

Anyway love you alll so so much bye bye(*^◯^*)

[highonmarvel]

heyy lov ur fics. saw you wanted some bucky recs so i got one. how about like bucky and reader have been dating for 2-3 months and he's always sweet to her and always making sure she was happy. he even promised to get rid of almost all of his weapons. but then he secretly didnt. he still had them, for "saftey purposes" he couldnt let anything happen to u. so he kept them in a secret room along with some pictures of u he took when he was observing(stalking) you before he entered into ur life -P1

that’s actually such a scary idea, i love it. okay, okay, you had a lot so apologises if it’s a bit different than you were expecting, but i tried, and i had fun! let me know if you like it! and my sweet sister @thehydraethereal, tell me what you think.

The Sun

Bucky Barnes: Bucky’s world revolves around you, The Sun, his sunshine, and he’ll do just about anything to make you happy, but everything to keep you safe.

CONTENT WARNING: This is a dark fic, please read content warnings here! 18+!

You’ve always been more of a glass half-full type of person, but with Bucky, you’ve really turned into a ray of sunshine—he just brings that out in you, treating you as precious as every breath he takes and as vital to life as the Sun itself. He said that to you once, when you asked why he calls you sunshine while laying your head in his lap, smiling in bliss as he stroked your hair. He said, “My world revolves around you.”

Even after three months, he still treats you with the same respect and gentleness and love and patience as that very first day, if not even more. There was only once you two had had a serious disagreement—it wasn’t really an argument, no one was angry, but it certainly could’ve been a massive dealbreaker for you.

Bucky never spoke much of his childhood, his teenage years, or even his adult ones, he only really went three years into the past, max, but you had pieced together he’s been through a lot, and so you never pushed him, but you made sure to make it clear you’d be there for him if and when he was ready to talk about it. There was a lot he did that showed you he was a war vet, and that as reluctant as he may be to admit it, he was suffering from some form of PTSD—he doesn’t like watching espionage films, or even movies with too much violence (which you don’t mind skipping, you don’t care too much for them either way), he’s sensitive to loud noises and a few times he’s jolted you out of your slumber with his nightmares, but he claims they’re much better with you than before. The metal arm also fascinated you—he said it’s made of vibranium, and you frowned at the thought of why he would need such a strong arm, but that you managed to get used to. What you couldn’t get used to, however, was his weaponry.

You had been sitting on the couch together when there was a thud from the next room over, and Bucky jumped up, soldier stance and everything, ready to go check it out. You were about to assure him it was nothing, tell him you forgot to close a window and a breeze probably knocked something over, when he slid a knife out of his boot and your breath caught in your throat. You followed the silver glint with your eyes as he stalked around the corner and then disappeared for a few moments.

“Birdie slammed against the window,” he said, relieved with a small smile, and you could hardly believe the juxtaposition between his use of the term ‘birdie’ while he held a knife securely in his hand. When you didn’t respond, staring at him with wide eyes, his brows turned downward in show of concern, and his voice came sincerely, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? It was nothing.” He incorrectly assumed the noise had scared you, but quickly came to understand when he noticed your gaze fixed on the knife.

“This?” he asked, casually, spinning the knife on his finger, but when you jumped back, he quickly hid it behind his back and cast his head downward in shame. He hadn’t meant to scare you, and though he felt bad, he couldn’t help but feel a little offended you’d think his arsenal was something to be afraid of. He’d never lay a hand on you, let alone a tool, why were you scared? Did you not trust him? He only kept this stuff to keep you safe. And besides, you knew about his slight paranoia with defence, so why did this catch you off guard? Sure, maybe the knife in the boot was a little too much for you to handle, but you seemed to take more issue with its existence rather than his convenient hiding.

“Sorry,” he mumbled an apology, managing to look up at you. “I didn’t mean to scare you, just had to make sure everything was alright.” He offered a weak smile in hopes of setting you at ease, but it faded when you stood up to confront him, shaking slightly.

“Why do you have a knife?” you asked in horror, voice raising in pitch. “What— do you just— do you just always have that on you?”

It’s the knife you’re worried about. Darling, if you knew the half of it.

“Protection,” he answered simply, innocently, not understanding your reaction.

“What— what else do you have? And— and in your house? You have to get rid of it!”

At any other time he would have pushed back on this (gently, of course), but in your frantic state he knew it wouldn’t serve either of you very well. He really hadn’t expected you to start hyperventilating about it. He switched to soothing you, holding you in his arms and promising he would get rid of all that, that you could feel safe… even though in his mind, his weapons were to make you feel safe, to keep you safe.

There’s a cupboard in Bucky’s house that’s always locked, and he tells you it’s just tools and some clutter he needs to clear out. But what you don’t know is he’s still got his shit in there. In any other circumstance, he would do anything you asked of him, but in this case, he got the impression you didn’t understand, that you were a little naïve when it came to this sort of stuff, like you’d always been sheltered and protected in a way that never needed violence. But he knows what the real world is like, and he knows what he’s got to do to keep you safe.

That was a few months ago. Now, trying to watch a film from the 40s—something with Jimmy Stewart, to grant Bucky a little nostalgia and tick another movie off your cinephile list—you both doze off, but you wake up before him. He usually wakes up earlier than you and falls asleep later, so you rarely see him asleep, only once you had to wake him up from the vivid nightmare, but here, now, he’s peaceful—his eyes are shut, his breathing is steady, his muscles aren’t tensed, this is the first time you’ve seen him lose himself to unconsciousness, and your heart swells at the realisation he feels safe enough to be so vulnerable around you.

As much as you would have loved to watch him breathe, after all the snacks you ate during the movie, your hands are sticky and you can’t really fall back asleep without washing them. On the way to the bathroom, you pause just before the door. The cupboard Bucky keeps his tools in is slightly ajar, it’s always been locked. And you’re not sure what compels you to head over to the door, but you carefully open it, wincing when it creaks slightly, before gasping at the scene.

He said he’d get rid of them! Not only are there multiple sharp blades of varying lengths, there’s more ammo that you could ever imagine needing, pistols, and a shotgun on the wall, you’re pretty sure you spot a fucking grenade, but maybe most terrifyingly is a mask. If this really was for safety (you’re really trying to give him the benefit of the doubt here) why the fuck did he have a mask? Like he was hiding behind it. He wouldn’t need to hide his identity from an intruder, he’d only need to if he was trying not to get caught if he was doing something wrong, if he was—

Bucky drops the bat to catch you before you hit the ground, wincing at the sight of your limp body in his arms. Fuck, he had stuck up a few more pictures of you earlier that day, and clearly forgot to lock the closet. The guilt from hurting you is enough to make him sick, but he’s got to figure out how to savage this.

If he just sets you right back on the couch and puts on some kind of thriller movie, you’ll think it was a dream when you wake up again, right? That your subconscious mind was taking in what was playing on the TV and affecting your sleep. That makes sense, that makes perfect sense, and that’s for you to figure out on your own; he won’t need to explain it or answer questions because really all it was was a bad dream, and he knows about those, you know he has experience with them, you’ll believe him when he tells you how real they can feel—you’ve seen it—and trust that everything’s alright, and he’s good to keep you safe.

After an hour, you begin to stir, and he redirects his gaze from being hyper focused on you to watching the film intently, though this far in he doesn’t know anything about the plot and hopes you don’t ask too many questions about it.

When he hears your quiet moans indicating you’re awake now, and feels your stretch beside him, he looks back at you. “Mornin’, Sunshine,” he teases, hoping you’ll giggle and say something about not realising it was dark outside. But you don’t, instead you startle and recoil back slightly, eyeing him suspiciously.

He forces his brows to furrow in confusion as he sets his half empty bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table. He tries to shift towards you but when you shift back, he sighs and stays in place.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asks in a low voice, his tone sincere and soothing. But he can tell you don’t buy it.

“You said you’d get rid of them!” you yell, and he winces slightly—you’ve never raised your voice at him, and if you’re this worked up over it it might take him a little more patience than anticipated to do some damage control.

“Get rid of what?” he asks. The best thing to do here is just play dumb.

“Your— your weapons! There’s— there’s so many of them, you said you’d get rid of them!”

“Baby, baby, baby,” he coos when you start breathing heavily, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “You just had a bad dream, okay? It’s alright…”

“No!” you shriek, kicking him away from you. “In the— in the closet!”

“What closet?”

“The— the one with the tools!”

“There’s nothing in there, sweetheart.”

“Then open it.”

He freezes for a second—he hadn’t expected you to ask that. “I don’t— I don’t know where the key is.” Fuck. He’s fucked. He knew it from the moment he hesitated, and his stuttering further solidified his guilt in your mind. His eyes grew just a little wider as he waited for you to respond, hardly breathing. You can read him like an open book, and he knows he can’t backtrack the few small ticks that set you on the scent.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously at him for a moment, but blink, and then nod, slowing your breaths down and directing your stare to the floor. “Alright,” you say, and Bucky himself can’t help but sigh in relief.

“I’m sorry you had a bad dream,” he coos as he shifts closer to you, and this time, you don’t shift away. He puts his arms around you and comfortingly rubs your shoulder, resting his head on top of yours.

You don’t buy it for a second.

That’s way too specific a dream for you to have months after even thinking about that stuff, and you’re not fucking stupid, you can tell what’s real and what’s not, and that was real. But for the time being, it seems easier to appease him. Maybe you really did imagine it… you doubt it, though, especially when Bucky’s body went rigid in response to your request. Even if you didn’t see what you thought you did, he’s definitely hiding something in that closet.

His phone rings, and he sighs, apologising as he carefully unwraps himself from you, reaching into his pocket to answer the phone as he stands up. “Hello?” There’s a few quick and low words from whoever’s on the other end and the groan he lets out allows you to guess it’s something Avengers-related. Though he isn’t an Avenger anymore (he gave up all violence, even in the name of justice) Sam does occasionally call him up to ask for advice on espionage matters or blueprints or just his thoughts on whatever’s going on.

“I’ve got to run, sweetheart; Sam’s being an asshole and I need to do some damage control,” he chuckles, and looks back down at you hesitantly, waiting for a response of some kind, but you’re quiet, arms crossed over your chest, slouched on the couch and looking at the floor, almost petulant but more… pensive. And that worries him.

“I can— I can stay if you want me to—”

“No,” you answer so casually it’s like something in him shatters. Sure, you’re not always grovelling at his feet when he opens the door but you’ve never been so nonchalant about him leaving to go take care of stuff. Even if it wasn’t all that sincere, you’d still make a little scene out of missing him so much. “I’ll see you later.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly shuts it, pressing his lips into a thin line as he nods, and then sighs.

He can’t leave you alone here: you’ll either run the second you can or hurt yourself trying to figure out how to get the cupboard open again. In both cases he won't be able to keep you safe, you’ll get hurt. But you’re also not yourself right now, and he doesn’t want to come on too strong and risk scaring you off for good. Not that he’d ever let you get away.

So he leaves, locks the door, but doesn’t get in his car. Usually he would grant that you’d be able to see the red flag there but you seem hyper focused on getting to his shit and he surmises he can get away with it. Between the tall plants covering his windows, he can just about make you out, sitting completely still on the couch for a few moments, it’s like you’re not even breathing. He subconsciously finds himself holding his breath as well—Are you waiting for him to start the car? Have you noticed he didn’t take his wallet?—narrowing his eyes at you, trying to anticipate your next move.

60 seconds, and you jump up.

***

You take a very quick look around the lounge, just to really make sure he left, and with no sign of him, you start off down the corridor again to his cupboard. It’s locked, and you know better than to even try to look for the key. But you have to do something: how could you live with yourself knowing that either you’d have broken up with your seemingly perfect boyfriend for no reason at all, or ever feel at peace again when there’s this heavy suspicion just hanging there?

You don’t know how you ever learnt it but you pull a pin from your hair and unfold it, closing one eye and sticking your tongue out slightly as you wriggle it around in the key slot, muttering “Please, please, please, please, please” to yourself over and over as you strain to hear for the clicks. One, two, three clicks and it opens! And you have no idea how you did it but it’s done now. You quickly open the door and gasp. You really shouldn’t be surprised—you know it wasn’t a dream—but the double confirmation really takes the wind out of you, and you feel betrayed. He lied to you, why did he lie to you? But there’s something else you didn’t notice before. On the inside of the door, polaroids of you that you know are before you met him are hung up haphazardly with messy tape—and they’re pictures of you doing mundane tasks, your everyday life. With shaking hands, you reach towards one that you’re afraid is of you in the shower, tears collecting on your lashes. As you reach for it, your elbow hits a shotgun and it falls and fires.

You scream as you jump back, and away from the door, you come face to face with Bucky at the end of the hallway, looking horrified as if it’s you who’s doing what you’re not supposed to.

Why the fuck is this thing even loaded if it’s just sitting around? These are assault rifles and deadly tools just at the ready, all the time.

Bucky carefully calls your name, and you turn on your heel and sprint towards the bedroom door at the opposite end of the corridor, but he catches up to you way too easily. He grabs you and slams your head against the doorway, causing you to black out and fall to the floor.

***

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh fuck! How was he so careless not once but twice? What if you’d gotten seriously hurt or even killed? And he’s mad at himself but he can’t help but feel mad at you, too. Why didn’t you just leave it alone? Sure, he fucked up by forgetting to lock it but why on Earth did you push for it? It was locked this time, why were you so obsessed with this!?

He takes a few deep breaths to stop himself from launching into a panic attack. He can fix this, it’s fine, you just need a bit of time to calm down, but he has a feeling if you took a relationship ‘break’ he’d never find you again. So you can’t leave, you just need to be somewhere safe.

Bucky’s basement is hardly even a room—that’s why he keeps his weapons upstairs, and so that they’re always there when he needs them. It’s small, but big enough for a few shelves and a twin-sized mattress, it’s more a very temporary storm shelter—or a panic room, to a weaker person. There aren’t any windows, and so the thought of getting you situated there for an indefinite amount of time isn’t pleasant. He always gets up before you, and, yes, part of that is nature, and part of it is his awe for your peaceful sleeping form, a level of serenity in darkness he’s not sure he’d ever be able to achieve. The sun peaks in through the curtains and lightly bronzes your skin for a few minutes until you stir and wake up to him beside you, pure adoration in his eyes. And every morning, he knows he’d give up the light of day forever if he could only wake up next to you one more time.

***

You grimace as you wake up, feeling uncomfortable—the room feels somehow cold yet stuffy, and the mattress you’re laying on feels scruffy and a little old. You toss and turn a few times before you realise that this is real. When the thought hits, you rip your eyes open, shooting upright to scan your surroundings while your breathing gets heavier and heavier.

Your eyes land on Bucky sitting at the bottom of the stairs with a book in one hand, his metal one mindlessly twirling a thick chain between his fingers, tightening and loosening it. To test, you tug on your leg and he automatically grips tighter to the restraint, even before noticing you’re up.

“Hey, sweetheart…” he coos, setting his book down and letting go of the chain. He crouches down and sits at the bottom of the mattress, coaxing you with soothing rubs on your shin like you’re a mental patient or a wild animal, unpredictable. “How’re you feeling?”

How are you feeling? How are you feeling?

“Are you out of your mind!?” you shriek, and kick at him—it doesn’t hurt him, but he does raise his palm from your leg. Dropping his voice to a sweeter tone, he tries to calm you down. “You’re alright, you’re safe, everything’s okay, baby.”

He reaches out a hand to stroke your face but you slap it away, looking up at him with wild eyes and messy hair, you let your tone drop to a dangerous low as you warn, “Don’t… touch me.”

He gives a disappointed sigh but eventually tuts to himself in agreement. You just need to get this out of your system, it’ll be fine.

But it’s not. It’s not fine, and it’s taking a toll on him. You’ve never been like this before, so angry and irrational and erratic and unpredictable, but that’s not what he minds. He can deal with you throwing insults his way, swinging at him (in vain, of course) or resorting to silence, but what really starts to tick him off is when you refuse to eat. He let it slide the first day, tried to play it cool and just left the tray down for you, but he went upstairs and nervously paced back and forth until the morning. When he came down with breakfast, he discovered you hadn’t so much as touched your meal, not even the tray itself, and though he asked you in an even tone to eat something (and got nothing but silence in return) it was worrying him, he nearly wanted to plead with you, but he knew if he cracked you’d see a weak spot and keep ramming it until you get your way, and he can’t have that.

It’s the third day now, and he finally decides he needs to feed you. He sits down in front of you and pulls the tray towards him, scooping up some rice on a plastic spoon. He holds the food to your lips but you keep them shut tight, even when he gently pokes your mouth a few times. He’s sure you can see the stress you’re causing him: he’s hardly sleeping, as shown by the bags under his eyes, and he can’t even go for a jog to clear his head in case you do something crazy while he’s gone. With a deep breath, he sets the spoon down and leans back, considering his next move. Maybe you’d drink a smoothie. Not ideal but better than nothing.

“Alright,” he huffs as he stands up. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna make you a smoothie.”

He’s only just turned his back when he hears clattering, and when he looks back to you, you’ve got fury etched onto your features and the food he so carefully and lovingly prepared for you is strewn across the floor.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” he bellows, and backhands you, sending you to the floor. With your mouth agape, you clutch your cheek and look up at him in shock. He’s never even raised his voice at you, let alone yelled, let alone lay a finger on you. “Just fucking listen to me! Eat!” He kicks the tray further back and you startle, paralysed by pure shock.

He takes a deep breath in, and a long huff out, clenching his fists at his sides. His blue eyes you had once thought of as calm oceans are ablaze, he’s shaking with anger, and his voice quivers as he tries to speak in a level tone to you. “I… am going to make you a smoothie, and you are going to drink it, or you’ll never see the sun again.”

When he slams the door shut behind him, you finally allow tears to fall. You don’t know what that threat means—will he never let you out? Will he kill you? At first you didn’t think so, even when he held you down as you screamed and kicked, but you never thought he’d hit you either, you never thought he was capable of such rage, and though he kept it relatively under control, you saw what that was. It wasn’t just ire, it was like flames licked his entire being, engulfing him and lighting him up. While you thought of him as your Sun, now, that was for a different reason—now, he feels like the actuality of the star: unpredictable and unbearably dangerous, but… necessary for survival, and inescapable.

✪

[my beloved taglist; @cowboysnbugs, @buckys-wintersoldier, @keito-123, @vogueprincess, @cjand10]

[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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Hii!! Just a thought, would any of the yanderes baby trap a particularly difficult reader?

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘-𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆…

!!! GN reader, children (lmao), manipulation, coercion into parenting, delusions, slight threats, impregnation mention (it’s not the reader, though), obligatory Tim Drake warning, mentions of possible harm to children.

I’m assuming you just mean the comic book yanderes. Let’s see!

I kept the actual baby-acquisition vague. Could be one or both of y’all’s biological kid, could be adopted, could be kidnapped. Who knows! I also gave them ratings on how they would be as a father, cuz why not.

Bruce Wayne: Yes. Absolutely. This is Bruce we’re talking about. You know, the guy who’s never beating the empty-nester allegations? As long as you’re with him, you’re bound to end up with a kid one way or another. Whether he set out to baby trap you or ended up with a child by chance, he is for sure going to hold it over your head. This kid is going to have both of their parents in their life, biological or not. It’s like a new kid spawns in the manor every time you get even a little bit rebellious. (7/10 father; still has his issues, but he’s learned from his past mistakes.)

Bucky Barnes: Okay, I don’t think he’d initially see himself as a family man. Just never crossed his mind, given his life as the Winter Solider. If he did end up with a kid, it would definitely be by accident. But when that happens, he’ll start to give it a little more thought. The idea of a family… it sounds so domestic; so normal. Uh-oh. Instant baby fever. Now he wants even more kids, and he’ll acquire them by any means necessary. Doesn’t manipulate you with any children, but you may feel obligated to stick around; the Winter Soldier does NOT seem like the type to be good at parenting. (5/10 father; doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s at least enthusiastic.)

Clark Kent: This man wants the classic nuclear family life. While he wouldn’t set out to baby-trap you, it will inadvertently happen with his desire for children. He wants to be tackled by at least 3 kids every time he comes home! And if he’s already had Jon, I can see him making it his mission to find the perfect spouse; that’s how he finds you!! Oh, you’re not good with kids? Doesn’t matter. This man is delusional as fuck. It’s not like he sees you for who you are, anyway. Keep in mind that he’s projecting an idealized version of a spouse onto you. (10/10 father; amazing with kids and is willing to pull your weight when you’re being difficult.)

Dick Grayson: If it comes down to it, he will. Any form of manipulation is fair game, and hey… he’s always dreamed of starting a family of his own one day. Even if you’re not big on kids, he’s willing to play the long game to try and get you to change your mind. And if you never do? Welp. That’s too bad. You’re still gonna end up with a child somehow (Dick’s got plenty of ways to make sure of that). When he finally gets what he wants, he’s for sure using the “think of our kid(s)” card any chance he gets. (9/10 father; he’s a family man at heart, and everyone around him thinks it was only a matter of time.)

Hal Jordan: A bit iffy on starting a family. He doesn’t hate kids, he just isn’t sure if he’s ready. However, as soon as he realizes a child in your life could make you more compliant, he quickly starts to sing a different tune. Now he’s all for having kids!! He’d be obsessed with the power it gives, every interaction between you two having that subtle warning of, “try and escape me now.” Papa-Bear Hal is not a force to be reckoned with. You may find yourself not liking the consequences of trying to break up this happy little family. (8/10 father; there’s a bit of a learning curve for him, but he’ll eventually fall into the groove of it.)

Jaime Reyes: Nope. The thought of having kids makes him sick to his stomach. He knows there’s something wrong with him… god only knows what would happen to his kids. The what if’s would drive him insane, easily trumping the possible gains of baby-trapping you. Sure, it might be a bit tempting — and he’ll admit, a small part of him wishes he could one day be a father — but not only would he feel extremely guilty, he also knows that it’s a bad fucking idea. Hopefully, he can continue to ignore Khaji Da’s own thoughts on the matter. It doesn’t matter how important “continuing the Reyes legacy” is, he’s not taking that risk. (6/10 father; despite his fits of spiraling paranoia, he needs to give himself a little more credit).

Peter Parker: Honestly, it’s a toss up. He’s got his concerns with being a father, but thinking about it makes him all giddy inside. I think this would be another case of accidental baby-trapping. He didn’t set out to do it, but hey… if it works, it works. Any “but what about our kid(s)” that he throws at you is by no means intentional manipulation; he’s just genuinely worried what would happen if you left. Then again, I can also see him slightly doing it. As soon as he realizes it works, he’ll keep it in mind. A thing he’ll tuck away for later and only use when absolutely needed. (9/10 father; loves his kid(s) and would do anything for them).

Remy LeBeau: Yeah, probably. As long as he’s in a position where he can have a kid or two, he’ll go for it. Remy secretly longs for a family (though he’ll never admit it), and if starting one means earning your compliance? Well, shit… that’s just killing two birds with one stone! But again, this depends on if he’s in a position where kids are viable. Should he still have some unfinished business to attend to, he’s not gonna be dumb enough to have kids. Growing up in the Thieves Guild taught him a thing or two about why that’s a bad idea. Otherwise, you are not immune to a sudden baby-acquisition by yours truly. (7/10 father; he gives chill baby daddy vibes who tries his best to be there for his kids.)

Scott Summers: Oh, yeah. It’s guaranteed to happen. This man is committed to having a semi-normal life, no matter how unrealistic that may seem. He wants a family. He wants you to be obedient. He wants a sense of normalcy, goddamnit. Y’all are having a kid whether you want one or not. And he leans heavily towards having a biological kid. If you don’t have the means to get pregnant — or fight tooth and nail against the idea — he’s 100% impregnating someone else and stealing their baby. Yes, it’s a crazy idea. Yes, he’s willing to go that far. Don’t test him. He’ll yell and shout at you about how you need to be there for this fucking kid, even if it’s not yours. It’s in your best interest if you comply. (6/10 father; he’s chronically fighting against the absent father allegations and MIGHT be winning… results are still pending.)

Steve Roger: Poor guy wants to settle down so bad. Yes, he’d baby-trap you, but I can see him feeling guilty for it. He knows it’s wrong, and it would especially weigh down on him if you didn’t even want kids in the first place. But he wants a family so bad. He can’t help it!! And as big of a piece of shit he may feel afterwards, he’ll do what’s necessary to make you behave. You need to be here for your kids! If a little bit of manipulation makes you stay, then so be it. He’s surprisingly good at guilt-tripping, making a good case with the image he has to uphold as Captain America. What would people think if they learned he was a single father? What assumptions would they make about you if you left him? Society might not be all that kind to you. It’s best to just stay. (8/10 father; can get a little busy, but he’s definitely there when it matters the most.)

Tim Drake: Not a fan of kids. There might be a chance of him coming up with a baby-trapping scheme during one of his weird fits, but let’s hope he snaps out of it before it’s too late. Do NOT let bro be a father. On the off-chance that he does acquire a kid… pray. And I mean PRAY. His version of baby-trapping ranges from “but this kid needs you” to “I will fucking kill this kid if you leave.” A situation like this means you have to familiarize yourself with Tim’s mood swings. Be compliant at first, then when he starts to second-guess himself, try to gently coax him into giving this child a better home. Hopefully, that poor kid will survive everything unscathed. Tim wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something bad happened to them. (0/10 father; he’d actually do an alright job when he’s mentally stable, but I think everyone — including Tim himself — would agree that he’d do more harm than good raising a kid.)

Wally West: Yup. No hesitation. As soon as the thought crosses his mind, he will get to scheming immediately. His goal would be to make it seem like a natural evolution, even if you’re not keen on the idea of kids. Wally is such a master at masking his manipulation, to the point where it’s unclear if he’s actually baby-trapping you or not, and by the time you’ve realize it�� welp… too late. Arguing with him is absolutely frustrating, cuz Wally West does not argue; he smooth talks until makes you feel like an idiot. Wanna know how cruel he is? Those kids will grow up to be accomplices in his manipulation, whether they know it or not. No one can put a stop to his fuckery. (9/10 parent; turns out to be a phenomenal father, I just have to take a point off simply because raising your kids to be just as manipulative as him probably isn’t good.)

[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

[nosyp]

Unwilling Devotion

Chapter 2 - The Captive's Resolve

Warning = Dark, captivity, toxic partners

Pairing = Dark! Avengers x reader

Summary = Captured by the Avengers, the reader fights to understand why they’re being kept hostage and plots their escape. Their defiance grows as their situation worsens and they escape. Or do they?

Word count = 4.2k words

A/N = I was planning to abandon this work but nvm… warning : dark stuff, captivity, kidnapping. As usual, the story is prone to changes (can completely be changed &/or rewritten) :P

AO3 Link

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Read story👇

The car ride was a blur. You couldn’t remember anything except being sandwiched between a teenage boy and some random guy with a robot arm.

While you were stuck in the middle row, Natasha sat calmly in the front with another guy. You had no idea who was driving, but you hated it. Their driving was absolute chaos. Every ten seconds, they slammed on the brakes, jolting everyone in the car forward. As if that wasn’t enough, they honked constantly, targeting anything on wheels that dared to exist.

When the car finally stopped, you swore you could see the heavens. Anything was better than being stuck in that death trap. Relief, however, was fleeting. You were dragged out without a second thought.

The sky was a gradient from blue to orange, the orange coming from the sunrise. The sight in front of you made your blood run cold. A small, brightly lit building stood hidden among the array of trees, its glow casting an eerie light through the forest.

“This’ll be your new home for a while,” Natasha said, gesturing toward the building. Her tone was calm, almost too calm.

You squirmed in their grip, but it was no use. They dragged you forward, ignoring your protests as if they didn’t matter.

“Stop it,” Tony snapped, no ounce of patience evident in his voice.

“Fuck you,” you shot back.

“You might wanna stop that before we cut your tongue off,” the metal-armed guy said with an unnerving nonchalance.

“Bucky,” Steve interrupted. “We’re not doing that here.”

Bucky shrugged, unimpressed. “Whatever, Steve.” He slightly rolled his eyes, but if you squinted, you could probably see a faint smirk.

Oh. So that’s their names, Steve and Bucky.

You couldn’t deny the building was unnervingly clean, despite being in the middle of nowhere. As your eyes darted around, your mind raced with thoughts of escape. Of course, they’d added every precaution imaginable. From fingerprint scanners to lock and unlock doors and cameras to motion sensors in almost every room. Key word: almost.

The bathroom was the only exception.

That realization sparked a flicker of hope. A way out. An escape. You immediately looked around the bathroom to take note of everything in it. A window, great. Unsurprisingly, the window had a lock on it and it was foggy. Luckily, the window was locked with a key, not with a body part. That’s good.

“Y/N!” someone called out.

Wait. How the hell did they know your name?

You spun around, heart pounding in your chest. It was the driver from earlier. You recognized him from social media, everywhere actually. He was part of the Stark family, though you couldn’t recall exactly which one.

You gritted your teeth, weighing your options. Then you decided to take a gamble. “Hey… Tony…?” you greeted, your tone unsure.

Calling your captor by his name wasn’t exactly what you had planned. And honestly, you weren’t even sure if it was his name.

“Hey Y/N,” he greets you back. “We’re about to have breakfast, come down in 5 minutes.”

Quietly, you nodded your head as a response and waited till he went away. You saw as he walked away and disappeared from your line of sight. Once you saw no sign of him, you straight away went back to looking through the bathroom. It was located on the second floor, right at the end of the hallway. The house was surprisingly big despite the small exterior. 

Realising the time, you got back up and dusted yourself off. Hurriedly, you went down into the kitchen for breakfast. 

“Y/N! Oh my poor mortal,” a voice bursted through the room. 

Your head turned to the source and saw a man with long hair. 

“Come sit next to me,” he said, patting the seat next to him.

You stopped in your tracks, taking a second to look around the room. There were a couple unfamiliar faces, like the red-haired woman extending her arm to grab something from the cabinet. You assumed it was Natasha at first but the second she turned around, you were proven wrong, she was much taller. 

“Oh gosh, don’t make her sit next to you Thor,” a voice suddenly said, interrupting your train of thought. You looked towards the person, eyes interlocking with his. Emerald eyes looking into yours, it felt eerie. His stare felt invasive. It felt intrusive.

“Y/N! Come here, hurry before the food gets cold,” another voice called out to you.

“Don’t rush her, Sam,” Steve interjected. 

Finally, you took a step forward, then another, before settling into a seat at the dining table. Soon, a plate of food was served in front of you and others. It was a simple breakfast: pancakes and eggs. 

You stared down at the plate and poked it with your fork. It looked… normal. Too normal, especially given the circumstances. The pancakes were fluffy and the eggs were perfectly cooked. This was the kind of breakfast you’d expect at a cozy diner, not in the middle of a forest, surrounded by people who had effectively kidnapped you.

“Eat up,” Steve said, his voice calm but you know that was an order. “You’ll need it.”

You hesitated, your fork hovering over the plate. What did he mean by that? Did they drug the food? Was this some kind of twisted game? Your mind raced with possibilities, none of them providing any comfort whatsoever.

“Relax,” Tony announced from across the table upon your wary expression. “If we wanted to kill you, we wouldn’t have gone through all that trouble.”

“Wow, that’s so reassuring,” you muttered sarcastically, earning a chuckle from Bucky.

“Smart mouth on this one,” Bucky remarked, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin.

Thor, still seated next to you, clapped a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. “Do not fear, little mortal! No harm will come to you while I’m present.” His loud voice echoed through the room, and for a split second, you found yourself actually believing his words. Then he added, “Unless, of course, you give us a reason to. Which I hope you don’t.”

You felt your appetite disappear. Well that soured the mood. 

Natasha, who had been quiet until now, finally said something. “You might as well eat. Starving yourself won’t do you any good.”

Sighing, you picked up your fork and cut into the pancake. Putting your hand up, you took a small bite. Surprisingly, it tasted… normal. Too normal. You expected it to taste like drugs or some sort of poison, but there was no hint of it at all. After realising it was safe, you began eating, still keeping an eye on the others.

“Sooo, what’s the plan with her?” Sam asked, breaking the silence. He was leaning on his chair 

Steve’s expression quickly darkened and he opened his mouth. “We’re not discussing that right now.”

Your froze, your hand holding the fork paused in the air. Plan? Wait, what plan?

“Oh, come on,” Bucky chimed in. “She’s sitting right here. Don’t you think she deserves to know?”

“Bucky,” Steve warned, his voice authoritative. Oh. So it looks like he’s the bigshot.

You heard Thor shifted beside you, eyes looking between them. “Why so secretive? If there is a task, let her rise to it! I’m sure she will prove worthy.”

Natasha snorted, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like “optimist.”

Before you could even open your mouth, Tony cleared his throat and started talking. “Alright, that’s enough chit-chat. Y/N, finish up. You’ve got a big day ahead.”

All of a sudden, the room fell silent, all eyes on you for some reason. Your heart pounded in your chest, as you processed the weight of their gazes.

“What’s happening today?” you asked, your voice barely able to be heard. 

A grin tugged at Tony’s mouth. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

You let out a loud sigh before going back to eating. If you were being honest, the food was actually good. Whoever made it definitely made it with a lot of… skill. 

"I’m Clint," he introduced himself, pulling the chair to sit down.

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. "Hi…?"

Clint leaned back in his chair. "No need to be all scared like that. I only have good intentions. I promise," His eyes flickered over to Natasha, signalling her to do something.

You weren’t sure how to respond. The way Clint spoke made you skeptical, there was something off about it. Maybe he was trying to get on your good side, or maybe it was just his way of manipulation. You couldn’t quite figure it out yet.

"How long am I supposed to stay here?" You asked the question before you could stop yourself.

"As long as it takes." He states, giving no further explanation, and you didn’t press further. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know the answer.

"Don’t worry, we’re not your enemies," Sam chimed in, voice gentle as he slid into a seat beside you. "We just need you to cooperate now."

"Cooperate with what exactly?" You questioned.

Sam raised his hands in mock surrender. "We’re not trying to play some game with you, Y/N. You’re here because there’s a lot going on, and we’re trying to keep you safe."

"Safe? Is this some kind of… joke? This isn’t funny," Your words were sharp now, frustration bubbling to the surface. You could feel the walls closing in, the confinement of it all pressing down on your chest.

"Y/N…" Steve’s voice was steady, but it held an edge of warning. He was the only one who hadn’t said much, and his quiet presence was starting to make you feel uneasy. "Let’s just finish breakfast. We can talk about this later."

“I’ve finished. A long time ago.” you responded. 

“Oh… Uhm…” Steve muttered. 

"Alright, here's the deal," Steve finally spoke, his voice breaking the stillness. "You’re not going anywhere unless you follow the rules."

You raised an eyebrow, your gaze shifting from Steve to the others. "Rules? What kind of rules?"

Bucky leaned back in his chair, his metal arm gleaming slightly in the light. "The kind that keeps you alive," he said, his tone dark and serious.

"First rule," Tony added, his voice sharp. "No running off or any funny business. If you try to leave, we’ll stop you. And we’ll make it clear why you shouldn’t."

You swallowed, but said nothing, keeping your focus on them.

"Second," Natasha cut in, her eyes scanning the room. "don’t talk to anyone else unless. You can only contact us. No one else."

"Third," Sam chimed in, his voice almost like a warning, "you play by the rules here, or we’ll make sure you regret it."

“Fourth,” Steve started. “You always bring one of us when you go anywhere.”

Your stomach twisted as they all seemed to be in agreement. Listening to the rules, the weight of it pressed down on you, and you realized just how little power you had in the situation.

"So, what? You’re gonna keep me here like a prisoner? Treat me like a prisoner too?" you asked, your voice starting to break. “Why are you eve-even doing this?” 

Tears were welling up in your eyes, and blood rushed to your face, the heat of humiliation and anger burning against your skin. Every inch of your body screamed for you to escape, but there was nowhere to run, no one to scream to. This was your reality now, locked in this strange house with strange people who seemed more like enemies than anything else.

Your hands trembled as you wiped away the first tear, but the more you fought it, the more they seemed to come. You hated how weak it made you feel. "Why?" you repeated, voice quieter now, a mixture of desperation and confusion lacing your words.

The silence went on, the air feeling thick.

One of them, the taller figure you hadn’t seen yet, stepped forward, his gaze unreadable. “It’s not about what you want,” he said, the coldness in his tone making your heart skip a beat. “It’s about what you need. And you’ll understand that... eventually.”

His words were like a slap, it hurt. Something darker, like a promise. It wasn’t about freedom or choice, but about you belonging to them. But why?

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling destroyed. “I don’t want to belong to you. I don’t want to belong to anyone,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

A small chuckle came from the corner of the room. You turned your head to see Clint, smiling like he just won the lottery. 

“Too bad,” he said, his eyes glinting with something twisted. “You’re already ours.”

“How? This is human trafficking, I could sue you for this. Lock you up forever,” you said angrily. 

Tony stood up after hearing your words. “Oh honey, don’t you know who we are?” he said, his tone condescending. 

You clenched your fists, trying to suppress the anger bubbling up inside you. "I don’t care who you are. This is wrong, and you can't just do this to people."

Tony's smirk widened, almost like he was enjoying your frustration. "You really think you can do something about it? You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. There’s no one to save you here."

Your heart pounded in your chest. "I’ll find a way out," you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to him.

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” Tony said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But the question is, will you be able to put us in jail? No one would believe you. I mean who would they choose? A group of vigilantes or… a random person?”

His words cut through you like a knife, but you refused to back down. You wouldn’t let them break you. You couldn’t.

“Gosh you all are disgusting! Why me anyway?” you asked. 

Clint’s grin never left as he stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an unsettling intensity. "Why not you?" he replied smoothly, voice dripping with venom. "You're the perfect fit. Feisty, but vulnerable. You’ll be a nice... addition to our collection."

Tony scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You really think you matter that much? We could've picked anyone. But you're here now, and that’s all that matters."

“I’m not a thing,” you spat, voice trembling with both fear and defiance. “I’m a person. You’ll regret this.”

Clint chuckled again, shaking his head. "Oh, honey, we don’t regret things like this. Not when they’re exactly what we want."

Tony’s cold gaze moved back to Clint, as if silently communicating something between them, before he turned back to you. "The question is... what will you do when you realize there's no way out? You’ll have no choice but to accept it."

"We'll see about that." you said, glaring at both of them.

Silence followed, nobody saying anything. That was until Rhodes said something, “Alright everyone, cool off,”

“I think she just needs some alone time,” he continued.

You didn’t say anything and only stormed up to your room, like an angry teenager. You slammed the door behind you and landed on your bed. And you took out the keys from your pocket. 

You stared at the small cluster of cold keys in your hand, their weight feeling heavy. Taking away keys from a group of super-spies was hard. But you were better than that.

You didn’t want to show them a vulnerable side of you, but you had to. If they saw you crumble, they'd feel like they had more power over you. But deep down, shit. You’re not any better than your captors. 

You shoved the keys under your pillow, attempting to calm yourself. Then the door unlocked, and a red-haired lady came in. 

“Hey honey, I’m Wanda.” she said, her hands in her pockets. “Please understand why we are doing this. We’re just trying to keep you safe.”

Her words fell on deaf ears and you didn’t respond.

Wanda studied you for a moment, her expression then softening. She seemed to be waiting for some kind of reaction from you but you didn’t give her any, you didn’t wanna tell her anything. All your feelings started to cluster up inside you, causing you to choke off any words you might have had. You just sat there instead, staring at the wall blankly.

"I know you’re upset," she continued, her voice gentle but firm. "But what’s happening here, it’s for your own good. You may not understand now, but soon, you will."

You clenched your fists tighter, the anger rising again. Safe? How could they call this safe? They had kidnapped you, trapped you in a god forsaken building, and now they’re feeding you lies?

You didn’t say anything, not because you didn’t have words, but because you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing your frustration.

Wanda took a step closer towards you. “Please… Just hear us out. We didn’t want to do this, but y’know… sometimes, we don’t have a choice. This world... it’s dangerous for people like you.”

You shot her a sharp look, not sure whether to scoff or to cry. "People like me? You mean normal people? Or just people who aren't part of whatever twisted thing you're all doing?"

Wanda sighed, her expression softening, but she didn’t back away. Instead she put her hand on your back but you smacked her hand away before it could even make contact. “It’s more complicated than that. You have no idea how important you are to us. If you get hurt, we’re gonna be hurt too.”

You stared at her, still silent, the weight of the keys under your pillow a reminder that this wasn’t over. You couldn’t back down now. You just needed to figure out how to get out, how to make them realize you didn’t need their so-called ‘protection’.

Wanda let out another quiet breath. "I know you’re angry. But we’re not your enemy. We’re just trying to do what’s best for you."

You finally looked up at her, your voice barely above a whisper, but full of defiance. "I don’t need your stupid protection. I just need to go home for goodness sake."

Wanda gave a small, almost apologetic smile. “I wish it were that simple.” Then she left the room. The door closed behind her with a click and you sat there on your bed.

They didn’t say a word or make any attempt to interact with you for the rest of the day. Instead, they simply came in occasionally to drop off food. 

That night, you carefully snuck out of your room, wary of the motion sensors scattered around.

"Where are you going?" a voice asked, breaking the silence of the night.

“The bathroom,” you said before quickly walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. You locked the door then rushed over to the window.

Your hands trembled as you reached into your pocket to find the keys. Holy shit. There are footsteps outside the door. You had to move fast.

With a sharp breath, you took the key in your hand and slid it into the keyhole. You turned it slowly, heart pounding so hard you thought it might burst out of your chest. The sound of the lock unlocking was louder than you expected but what could you do about it?

You opened the window, the cold air rushing in and brushing against your skin. Your eyes scanned the drop below. It was high. Too high for a safe landing but it was the only chance you had.

The footsteps echoed closer, just outside your door. Your pulse quickened. You didn’t have much time.

Without another thought, you climbed over the sill, sitting on it. You felt your body shaking as you stared down at the ground. You gripped the edge of the window, squeezing your eyes shut for just a moment to steady yourself. 

No turning back now.

You took a deep breath, squeezed your eyes shut, and jumped off.

For a while, you were falling in the air as if the earth had abandoned you. You felt a rush of adrenaline course through your veins. It felt like the longest drop of your life, but you felt the wind against your skin, it was only increasing.

When you hit the ground, it was like a violent shock through your body. Pain exploded through your legs as you collapsed, but you forced yourself up immediately, ignoring the sting. You couldn’t stop. You had to escape.

Using your hands, you stumbled onto your feet with trembling knees, but you pushed forward. You started running without thinking, adrenaline powering you through the pain. Your lungs burned, but you didn’t care. You needed to get away. It was a matter of time until they came for you.

Behind you, you heard their screams and shouts. The deafening sound of their boots behind you, but you couldn’t stop. You wouldn’t stop.

Every step was fueled by the overwhelming need for freedom, for the hope of never seeing their faces again. You could feel their presence right behind you.

The road ahead was dark, but it didn’t matter. You weren’t going back. Not ever.

You kept running, your mind focused on one thing. Which was escaping.

Your feet hit the ground hard every step you took. Every step brought you farther from the hellhole you were trapped in, for a day or so. The cold air stung your lungs but you barely noticed, too focused on escaping to care. You couldn't afford to slow down, because you knew they could catch up at any second. You didn't know how far you were from them. They could be close. But at the same time they could all still be behind at the house. 

The night was full of the unknown. Every turn felt like a gamble. You darted through the woods, dodging the trees and rocks, your breathing starting to be ragged. The sound of your feet hitting the soil was quiet, but still loud enough to be heard.

The thought of them catching you and bringing you back made the pain in your legs feel like nothing. It was nothing compared to being a captive. You could feel the sweat trailing down your face, and dropping onto the dirt ground underneath you.

You were in your own world now, consumed by the need for freedom. You took a sharp turn and nearly slipped on the wet soil, but you managed to regain your balance and keep running.

The sounds of pursuit grew louder, closer. You could hear their voices, and though you didn’t dare look, you could feel their presence stalking you. The fear was back again, choking you, but you fought it down. You pushed your body harder, desperate to outrun them. You couldn’t let them catch you. Not again.

You turned left, and for a moment, you thought you might be safe. The path ahead was empty, just a stretch of empty nothingness leading to… god knows where. You could almost taste freedom, but it was still much too far away for you to be celebrating.

A shout came from behind you, sharp and commanding. It sent a fresh wave of panic through you, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. Your legs burned, your chest ached, but you kept running as if your life depended on it and it did.

The night seemed endless, but you refused to slow down. You had no idea where you were heading, but you couldn’t think about that now. You had to keep running. The fear of being caught was too much. The thought of them dragging you back to that place, locking you in again, was more terrifying than the darkness ahead.

The sounds of your pursuitors slowly became more distant, but you kept going, not daring to slow down. You didn't know how long you'd been running nor how much more you needed to but it didn’t fucking matter to you. It didn’t matter if it took minutes, hours, days. You just needed to keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep pushing forward.

Eventually the adrenaline started to wear off and you finally let yourself stop to rest. You found a spot behind the trees, hidden away well enough to allow you to gasp for breath. Your heart was still racing, your mind still buzzing, but you were free.

That was proven temporary when you heard footsteps surrounding you. You perked up and observed your surroundings. The forest was way too dark for you to see anything, but you could hear, feel, their presence. Then…

“Oh my fucking goodness. Where the heck are they?” you heard a voice say.

“Relax. They couldn’t have gone too far.” someone else answered.

“Why are we doing this anyway? What’s so good about them?”

“They’re a criminal.” was the last thing you heard before everything turned black.

Taglist = @cjand10

[yandere-wishes]

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

[cvrnelians]

boyfriend (drabble)

dark!Bucky Barnes x reader: Bucky is your boyfriend—at least, he’d like to think so.

warnings: kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, unwanted touching. 18+ only.

🥀

The roses sat on the countertop, untouched. 

He had left them there for you hours ago. You didn’t stop to admire them. You didn’t bother to trim the stems or put them in a vase. You hadn’t even given them a second glance. You just sat there silently, curled up in a ball on the couch beneath a pile of blankets, eyes still puffy from crying. 

Bucky sighed as he walked through the door, quickly noticing the flowers still lying on the counter. “Doll, come on. I’m trying my best here.” 

You didn’t doubt it. He wanted you to like him, to love him. He did, in fact, try his best. In turn, his expectations were high. Even given your current set of circumstances, he somehow expected the world from you. You weren’t sure when it happened (not anymore; you had lost track of time), or why, or how. Bucky never struck you as bad, much less capable of something like this. You had barely even known that he liked you. You came up with a handful of memories, all of which felt completely benign in the moment. A smile here, a kind word there.

Nothing to indicate that this would happen.

Nothing to indicate that he would abduct you and hide you away from the world—your world.

The door locked automatically behind him.

Click, click.

He was quiet as he set to work, unwrapping the roses from their plastic packaging. He trimmed the stems without much effort, opting to place them in a tall glass pitcher. He slipped his jacket off and took off his baseball cap, placing it backwards on your head. You rolled your eyes as he leaned down and kissed your forehead. Once, twice, three times, four.

“Bucky, stop.”

“What?” he chuckled. 

He placed both his hands on your ears, leaning in and kissing your cheeks, the tip of your nose, your mouth. “Why don’t you get up?” he asked. “Have something to eat.”

You shrugged. “I’m not hungry.”

He curled up next to you and wrapped his arms around you, tilting you onto your side. You groaned. He sighed again. “You’re so stubborn.” 

He locked his arms around yours, making you hold your arms close to your chest—surrounding you. You took a deep breath and shut your eyes. It was very clear: You weren’t getting out of this, not this time. His lips descended to your neck, leaving a small trail of kisses down to your shoulder. You felt warm. Content. Safe, almost.

You had missed him.

And for a split second, without a second thought, you extended your neck, turning your head to the side—as if to invite him in. 

He let out a little gasp from the back of his throat, pausing for a moment. His eyes widened as he looked at you. You stared up at him in shock—you, too, were shocked by what you just did. You then squinted your eyes shut, curling in on yourself. You could practically hear the smile in his voice as he leaned back down to kiss you. 

“Such a sweetheart,” he said, pressing his lips to your neck. Smug. "Such a sweetheart."

[klaus-littlestwolf]

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

Series

•Y/n Pregnant w/Someone Else’s Baby 1🧨⚜️

•Pregnant with Buckys Baby Pt.2🧨⚜️

Oneshots

•What if You Knew all of Me🧸✨

•All of Me Loves All of You🧸✨

•The Curator CEO!Alpha Bucky🧸♎️

•A-Z NSFW Alphabet🧨

•Buckys Girl on her Period🧨🧸

•Mafia!Buckys Girl gets Arrested🧸✨

Yandere

•Dark NSFW Alphabet🧨🥀

•Can’t Live Without You-(Therapist)🥀🔥

•A Strange Kind of Love (Mafia!Bucky x OC x Mafia!Klaus)🥀🔥🧸

Loki- Daddy Frost Giant 🧸✨

Tony- Worked to the Bone 🧸✨

Bucky Moodboards

Random Thoughts

[usetheeauthor]

Kinkmas Day 3: Love Faces + Babytrapping + Bathroom Sex

Older!Realtor!Edward Lemuel/Guy Moratz x Bimbo!Influencer!Reader

Warnings: age gap (ed: early 50s, reader: mid 20s), delulu!edward but also he’s completely right, yandere!edward, oral (m receiving), ball worship, curvy/chubby!reader, mentions of insecurities, babytrapping, grower not show-er!edward, praise kink, little bit of humiliation kink, breeding kink, sloppy/rough kissing, unprotected p in v, creampie, scratching & biting, desperate sex, switch!couple

Summary: Banging your realtor in your new home sounds like a nice way to celebrate a close.

Gif credit: @/thelovewittch

a/n: writing for him cause I can’t get him out of my head so why the fuck not. Had the older him in mind and ran with it. Some inspo from the movie ‘The Substance’ in this because it felt very similar some of the messages they had.

YOUR knee brushed against his. Could it have been intentional? Could you even do something so scandalous in the vicinity of your parents? And you’re sitting super close. There’s so much room on this piano bench and yet you sat this close to him. God, he could smell your vanilla-scented perfume, wishing he could lathe his tongue across your delicate throat to see if he could taste it, too. He could feel the heat radiating from you and when it makes contact with his skin, he imagines for a moment that he could live in it. He hears the sweet gasp that escapes your lips when you run your fingers along the ivory keys.

YOU’RE a music enthusiast, it seems.

Edward was only showing off the piano display included with the home. He sat at its bench and playfully fooled around on the instrument when you decided to sit beside him and play truthfully. Beautifully.

Every now and then, you’d reach for a key over on his side and he’d force himself not to shudder when the action forced your bodies even closer.

He’s got to remain professional. His clients wouldn’t appreciate their realtor popping a boner over their sweet daughter but he’s hopelessly infatuated with you.

Just today—only 15 minutes into the tour where he’d first laid his eyes on you, Edward believes he’s found his soulmate in you. It’s love at first sight. You must feel it, too!

When he’d greeted you…you smiled and greeted him back! You laughed at his little jokes throughout the tour. And now you’re here beside him, making indiscreet attempts at being close while your parents examine the bedrooms upstairs.

“You played wonderfully?” He says with a goofy lovestruck smile.

“You liar,” You giggle. “That was so awful. If my piano teacher would have heard me play just now, he’d place one of those ice cream cone hats teachers used to make bad kids wear in the black and white days. I think it was called a dense hat?”

“A dunce hat.” He corrects.

“That’s the one,” You nod, pointing an acrylic-donned nail at him. “You’re so smart, Mr. Guy.”

“M-my first name is actually Guy.”

“So your name is Mr. Guy Guy?” You ask, blinking perplexedly.

“Guy Moratz.” Edward answers, trying to contain his excitement.

YOU just asked for his name! You half-remembered his name! If this isn’t your attempt to get to know him then he doesn’t what is?

“There’s a pool in this house, right, Mr. Guy?” You ask, glossing over his correction.

“Yes, an indoor pool.”

“Sweet,” You smile before pulling out your cell phone. “Think you could take some photos of me around the place.”

“Of course. Anything for you, my darling…client.” Edward answers awkwardly, attempting to stand on his feet but you sink your sharp nails into his biceps a little, pulling him back down on the bench. His dick jumps a little in trousers at this.

“Can I get one quick selfie with you?” You plead with the added pout and puppy dog eyes. You look so gosh darn pretty. “I want my instagram followers to see me with my new realtor. They’re coming along with me on my housing journey so I’m documenting anything I can. I’m practically the most mature influencer of my friend circle. They’re all still living together as roommates but I think I’m ready to be an adult. Just between you and I, though, let’s pretend I was the one who’d found you and not my parents.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Edward says and just as he finishes his sentence, you snap a quick photo of the two of you. You show him the picture and he frowns for a moment. He wasn’t ready and the photo didn’t capture his good side. What if you stare at that photo long enough and think he’s not as handsome as you’d believe? Or worse you show this photo to your girlfriends and they’d tell you how unattractive he is.

“You don’t like it?” You ask in a soft, whimper.

“It’s…okay. I was just in the middle of speaking so my mouth looks a little wide in that photo which made my head shape look weird and…”

“I could retake it. No biggie. But I’d like to keep this photo anyway. If you’d let me, pretty please.” You beg.

“Why?”

You lean in, whispering, “Because I want…to compare my best photos and I think I look hot as fuck in this one,” Standing on your feet, you yank down your tight pink dress that rode up your thick thighs before strutting to the nearest hallway. Edward. “Come on, take me to that indoor pool you’ve been raving about. I don’t want my parents catching up to us in case my besties want to facetime. I’ll see if I can crop you out of that photo later, if you’d like. Or I can even edit it to make it look better so that way we won’t have to keep retaking it. I, also, hate it whenever a friend keeps a bad photo of me just to use it against me or something.“

Edward fawns over you. You’re so considerate! To be kind enough to edit a photo for your realtor?! You’d probably do such a kind act for him no matter what he looked like. For that reason, his heart further warms up to you. You’re different. You’re not like Ingrid or the other women. You care about his feelings, you saw through him for the better. Just as a soulmate would do.

“Here is your stunning indoor pool room for your comfort, privacy, and all year-round enjoyment. This luxurious space boasts—”

“Can you take a photo of me here by the pool?” You question, already having dipped your feet into the cool water.

“Yes.” He takes a step forward looking for a position that would best capture the light in your eyes. Every angle is perfect. Oh, to have been born with such beauty. There’s no doubt your children together would be gorgeous.

Edward settles near the pool’s edge, standing in front of you as he snaps a quick photo. You stand giddily on your feet, singing him praises of his methods. “Are you some kind of a professional photographer?”

“Nope but I do a little acting on the side.” He laughs but once again his smile becomes a deep frown. Just in the background of the photo is his face upon the water’s surface, the waviness of the ripples causing its reflected image to distort. It’s…ugly.

“You think you can crop that part out, too, dear?” He inquires.

“What part?” You ask, squinting. He points at the small face in the background, it’s so small in comparison to the rest of the image that his thick index finger practically buried it. “Geez, you’re quite the stickler. But I can do that for you.”

“Thank you,” He exhales. “You look amazing in this photo of course. So you don’t have to delete the photo.”

“Mhm.” You say, side-eyeing him a little.

Edward lets out a nervous laugh, hoping to relieve any awkward tension. “Shall we go to the home theater?”

“Actually let’s see a bathroom, preferably ones with nice large mirrors. I need to take a pic of my outfit of the day.” You suggest.

“As you wish.” He laughs, feeling his confidence mask slipping. From the way you grimace at him, you can surely tell he’s crumbling. Could it be that you could sense his old self shining through? That you can see that he’s just a husk of a man still even after all these years. There has to be someone he could convince that he’s made for you. Just one more good picture to show you that he’s as perfect as you.

You’re led to a guest bathroom with gold accents and pearly white floor and wall tiles. There’s two large vanity mirrors—in fact, every surface of this bathroom is reflective. Edward is hesitant to enter, watching you take your photos from just outside the door.

You shoot him an uncomfortable glance, placing your phone on the counter. “Are you just going to stand there like an old creep?”

Old.

He is old, isn’t he? Fading in youth and beauty while you’re currently in the thick of it. And all he can do is ogle you like a pervert in your presence, yearning for you to see him in a better light.

“I’m asking you to come in here, dude,” You laugh, taking his hands to drag him inside. “You owe me a selfie.”

“In here? Wouldn’t that be a little strange?”

“Not for the kinds I wanna take. Here is the best place,” You whisper in his ear, sending a chill down his spine. You’re so, so close. He can hardly breathe. “The lighting’s better in here anyway. Ya know, so we can best capture your features.”

You stared up at him with those curious wide eyes, studying him up close. He couldn’t possibly look appealing from this angle. He still has the faded scars of the surgery just under his chin. You shouldn’t have to see him this way. So imperfect.

“Great idea.”

“Awesome! So, we’re gonna take this quick photo op and then we’ll go back to consult with my parents on how I feel about all this place, yeah? Do you have any pointers for how you want to take this photo?”

“No flash photography,” He says with a half-heartedly cocky wink. “The exposure might over wash my face with light, making it look all blotchy and sharp. And keep it at a distance just about my waist so it’s not too close but not too far either.”

He’s just so funny and kind of pathetic to you that you can’t help but find it endearing. “Wow, you know your angles, that’s for sure. Must’ve had a lot of practice. Are you sure weren’t a photographer in another life?”

“Just gotta keep up appearances,” He laughs. “It’s what pays the bills.”

“So is it always so prim and proper with you? Can’t it be a little…raw? Sometimes things should be candid; in the moment. Perfect can be a little boring sometimes. “You turn for a moment to lock the door behind you then your hands are on his belt and your knees are on the floor. “I can show you the best way to take photos. Try this method once and you’ll always feel beautiful no matter what.”

Edward isn’t sure what to do, mouth dry. All he can do is let out a strangled gasp and whine. You’ve barely touched him yet and he’s already a mess.

Torturously slow, you forcefully untuck his shirt from his pants and begin to unbuckle his belt, rubbing your face up and down along the trouser’s fabric as you do so. Your eyes never leave his, wanting him to see your desire in them. Yanking down his underwear along with his pants, his semi-hardened cock is free of its confines. You pinch it between two acrylic fingers, holding it the way you would a little worm.

“Aww, how adorable.” You giggle, releasing his cock so it fell over his balls. You lap your tongue over the length of it before pulling away with a stick line of saliva connecting you two. He whimpers quietly, trying to hold back his facial expressions. Even in the throes of passion, he stresses his appearance.

You cup his large balls in your hand, bringing them to your lips to place a red lipstick stained kiss on each scrotum. “Now these are huge. So good for breeding your woman. I bet you’ve got so much cum in them just begging to impregnate.”

“Fuck…please.” Edward whines, white knuckling the marble sink behind him.

You take the uncircumcised tip into your mouth sucking on it lightly and his eyes roll back, lips parting in complete bliss. It’s been so long since he’s felt the warmth of an eager mouth around his cock.

“It turns me on seeing the way your face changes,” You sigh before lowering your mouth down his length once more. He swells at your praise, growing larger in size down your throat. You gag, pulling away as spit dribbles down your chin. “Ooo, a grower. You’re full of surprises, Mr. Guy.”

You suckle on his leaking tip, kneading his balls to milk him for all his worth. Edward’s facial expressions are beyond reserved by this point, allowing himself to enjoy your worship of him.

“I love you.” He rasps, mainly to himself but you hear his breathy words nonetheless.

You moan against him, cranking up your motions on his shaft. It shouldn’t turn you on this much that this stranger just told you he loved you. It was so pathetic and sickeningly desperate and that’s what made it all the more hot.

You dig your nails into the back of his thighs, taking his cock deeper until your nose brushes against his fuzzy pubic hair.

Edward suddenly gets the twisted plan to assure you as his for good. The thought of finishing inside you plagues his mind enough that he forces your mouth off him, yanking you to your feet, to bend you over the sink. He’s going to put a baby in you. You’ll be his forever then.

“I need to be inside you. I have to.” He whimpers, yanking your panties down your legs.

“I wanna look at you. Can I please?”

He answers you with a passionate kiss, turning you over so that he can wrap his arms around your rubenesque form to seat you on the cold marble.

Your kisses are sloppy and messy, neither of you able to remain controlled enough not to knock teeth or bite lips. Edward spreads your legs for him, sliding you down the counter just enough to close the gap between your bodies.

You remove his glasses that fogged within your heated entanglement. With one hand held his jaw in place, keeping him from hiding his face. The other went down between your bodies, guiding him inside you. You both let out groans at the euphoric feeling.

He starts out at a heavy pace, slamming himself hard and deep inside you. You barely have time to adjust, forced to take him the punishing pounding. Though, your eyes threaten to flutter close from the bliss, you keep your eyes locked on him watching his every facial expression.

“Look at yourself, baby,” You mewl. “You look so fucking good when you don’t care how you look. God, those pretty faces you’re making are gonna make me come so hard.”

He glances at himself in the mirror. His unkempt appearance startled him for a moment but then your nails rake down his back, stab into his buttocks forcing him deeper inside you and he’s soon abandoning any care. You begin to suck along his jawline, meeting him thrust for thrust.

His hands excitedly explore whatever they can touch: cupping your ass, squeezing your breasts, clawing his nails along your thick thighs, or holding you tight against him.

The sounds of your tryst are sheer filth as his grunts clash in time with your moans. Neither of you do anything to minimize your volumes, disregarding that your parents could be just outside the door hearing this.

You control him by his hair forcing him to look at you while his face contorted in pleasure. His lips are now swollen from the rough kisses, his hair and clothes are disheveled, and he’s far gone from bliss. He’s absolutely perfect for you like this.

“It’s… so wet,” He whispers hotly in your ear, considering it your only warning you’ll get before he shoots up his hot liquid inside you. He expects some resistance; for you to push him away. Instead, you draw him close, touching the tip of your panting tongue to his as you wrap your legs around him. You refuse to let go. “I’m close. Fuck, I’m so close.”

“Cum in me. Please, baby, please. I’m not on birth control. Need you to breed me. Wanna be owned by you.” You cry, clamping your teeth on his bottom lip in time with your clenching walls.

Once again, you both let out guttural groans in unison as you reach your explosive peaks. You sob, real hot tears streaming down your face as you finally received what you’ve been craving.

His euphoric expression singes into the back of his mind forever a memory. He’d never let loose this wildly with any woman. The two of you tremble against one another from the intense aftershock of your combined orgasms. Edward plunges himself into your wet heat repeatedly, filling the air with sticky clicking noises made by your combined fluids. Satisfied you’ve received every drop, he finally stills.

“I’ll think about closing on this house. On the condition that we christen every room in this place. My hope is that I can pull the most unholy faces out of you once I ride you like a horse,” You trace your finger along the salt and pepper stubbles on his chin. “Promise me you won’t hold back your faces next time, pretty boy. I meant it when I said you owe me another photo.”

[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.”