#dark bucky

Title: All this and Heaven, Too [3]

Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Caught in an anti-hero demonstration, you become an unwilling participant in a political game of tug of war. Tony Stark wants you to be the new poster child for his pro-Avengers rhetoric, Nick Fury wants you to fade into the background, and Bucky Barnes… wants something else from you entirely.

Warnings: Near Death Experience, Noncon, Stalking, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Smut, Breeding. Blackmail, Infidelity, Dark!AU, Grey/Dark Avengers AU, Dead dove Do not eat

A/N: um. i think you all could see the signs that things were about to go from zero to sixty with the ending of the last chapter, but just in case you didn’t, here’s your warning. updated the warnings a bit to reflect the content from here on out! bottom divider by @firefly-graphics!

The work below is my own, and is unbeta’d and unedited. I do not consent for it to be translated and or posted elsewhere by anyone but myself. Minors, DNI!

Bucky leaves shortly after Patrick gets back, and you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, very wrong, for the rest of the day. While you shower, as you go through the stretches the physical therapist taught you, as you run loving fingers through Pat’s hair. The wrongness won’t abate, won’t leave you alone. 

  The Black Widow arrives a few hours later, and declines your hesitant offer to come inside. No thank you, she’d said with a tart smile. I’m better from outside. Patrick is just grateful to have the apartment back, spreading out on the couch and surfing channels aimlessly. You, on the other hand, can’t stop turning over this morning’s events in your head, gnawing at it like a dog with a bone.

The cold hand, the beard, the voice that wasn’t Pat’s—

Your stomach fills with lead. 

Youknow what the truth is, but you can barely even think it. It doesn’t make sense, for one, that Bucky would sneak into your room and do that.He’s half a celebrity, and while you buy about half of the populace running away screaming, you know the other half would walk readily right into his bed. There was no need to dally with you. 

So why did he?

Why did he pretend to be Patrick, slither between your thighs and—

You clench them shut, your stomach lurching with shame as your cunt pulses at the memory. It isn’t your fault it felt good, you know that, but the shame eats away at you anyway. And Pat—you don’t know how he’d react to the knowledge, and you don’t want to find out. You clench your fists under the knitted blanket Patrick’s mother had given the two of you at your engagement party last year. 

You don’t know when you’ll see Bucky next and your stomach flops nervously at the thought of being alone with him after what happened. He’d seemed so nice before, if a little stoic; you don’t understand the shift, can’t make sense of it. 

And it certainly doesn’t help that you’re essentially house-bound, unable to drive your car without the go-ahead from Doctor Bradford. You feel trapped, like you’re just waiting for the predator to circle round again, to take another meaty bite out of you. 

And what a bite he’d taken. 

You can’t find it in yourself to leave your bubble of alternating self-deprecation and loathing for Bucky’s transgression, you’re surprised when Patrick starts getting ready for his night shift. It’s with grim resignation that you watch him step into his nurse’s shoes—the ones you’d teased him about more than once—and pin his tag on his shirt, right onto the pocket, like always.

“Babe? You good? You’ve been quiet all day.” Patrick is shrugging into his scrubs, and his voice rouses you from your anxiety driven fugue. “I can call off if you want.” On one hand, you do, you really do—you want Pat to stay, to help you confront Bucky for what he did to you—

But the larger part of you, the part that echoes with your father’s drilled-in shame, doesn’t even want Patrick to know. You don’t want him thinking of you as damaged goods, the woman who couldn’t even recognize her own fiancé’s voice. His mother already hated you, and you were loathe to give her more reason to mistrust you. 

No, better for you to handle this on your own. For once you were glad for the insistent beeping of his pager as they contacted him again—rushing him in, putting a pin back into the grenade of this line of discussion. 

“I’m good. Sorry, I’m just tired. I think it’s the pills.” You offer him a watery smile. “You go.” He does, with one last, almost mistrustful look at you over his shoulder. 

“Call if you need anything, okay?” 

“Okay.”

—

You twiddle your thumbs in the emptiness of your apartment, wondering what you’ll say, what you’ll do when Bucky shows up for guard duty, so much so that when Natasha raps on your door with her knuckles, you almost throw up from nerves. 

“I’m headed out,” she says as you pull the door open. “Steve’ll be here shortly, if he’s not here already.” It sends a cool wave of relief through you to know it won’t be Bucky you see next, and you nod gratefully. 

“How long, um, do you think we’ll have to do all this?” You ask, steadying yourself against the door. “The whole, um. Bodyguard thing.” 

“Probably until the press dies down. Another couple of weeks, at most. We already got a few pings just from presence at the junket.” Her voice is confident, assured. It makes you want to trust her confidence. She turns to leave, but stops, hesitating. “Here, take my number. Just in case. And only for emergencies, understand?” She replies sternly, and you nod quickly.

“Thanks.”

You hobble back to the living room, and begin your best attempt at tidying up with only the use of one hand, a crutch held under the other. When the buzzer rings, you answer with confidence, pressing the intercom button. 

“Yes?”

“Hey. It’s me. Can you buzz me in?”

“Oh, Steve. Sure.” You move to press the door button, and the familiar buzz sounds through the speaker. You wait patiently by the door for Steve to get there, tugging open the door as his footfalls approach the landing. 

“Hiya, doll.” Bucky grins at you as he rounds the corner. No.You gape at him, unable to speak as you sputter. “Surprised to see me? Steve had something come up, something with the baby—”

You slam the door, sliding the deadbolt across it with trembling fingers. It’s instinct more than anything, but you’re glad for it when his body thuds against the door only a second or two later. 

“You need to leave, Bucky,” you say shakily. “Get out of here!” 

“Doll, what? Why? Something wrong?” It makes your stomach roll to hear him ask so genuinely, all while the feeling of his hands on your body burns in your memory. He raps on the door hard, and you can hear his heavy breath. 

“You… you have to go, Bucky. I know what you did this morning, okay? I… I fucking know!” 

There’s silence from the other side of the door, and then a heavy sigh. 

“Goddammit.”There’s another knock. “Sweetheart, open the door and let’s talk about it. Come on. Let’s be adults about this.” 

There’s a casual kind of coolness in his tone that makes you both angry and terrified, like he’d forseen this outcome—

Planned for it. 

“No. You need to leave. You need to leave, a-and I’m going to tell Tony what you did—” This time, it isn’t Bucky’s voice that interrupts you—it’s your own. 

“God!” 

“What? What is that?” 

“F-fuck, I—”

Your face heats as you realize what he’s doing. He’s playing something, a recording—

A recording of this morning.

Before you can think about it, consider what you’re doing, your hands are flying to the locks, practically tearing off the deadbolt. 

“Stop, it, shut that off—” The door slams inward, and it narrowly misses pulping you against the wall you as you scramble away. You hit the floor with an oof, your crutches clattering to the ground beside you. “Bucky…”

He tosses you the phone as he steps over the threshold, closing the door behind him. He makes sure to set the lockandthe deadbolt, turning to grin at you over his shoulder. 

“For interruptions.” Bucky squats down in front of you, and motions down at the phone in your lap. “Oh, that’s my favorite part.” You don’t want to look down, but it’s like you can’t stop yourself, your eyes drifting to the screen. You watch yourself writhing on your bed, one thick, flesh hand, one metal, holding your thighs apart while Bucky feasts on you. 

You toss the phone away as if it’s burned you.

“Why would you do that?” You murmur, hot angry tears gathering in your eyes. He sighs, running a hand through his thick hair. 

“I’m sorry, doll. I am. I…” He hesitates, before shrugging, like there’s no point in keeping it from you now. “I thought those pills’d have you under for a little longer.” The apologetic smile he gives you is chilling, instead of relatable. “I just couldn’t wait anymore. I’m not patient, you know?” 

“What? What are you—”

“I saved your life.” He states the irrefutable fact with a completely straight face. “Didn’t I?” Bucky reaches forward to brush a lock of hair out of your face, and you go completely rigid at the motion. “You know, there’s some cultures that believe if you save a life, you own it. You know that, doll?” 

All of the anger goes out of you at once—and is replaced by ice cold terror. 

“I asked you a question sweetheart, please answer me.” 

It’s night impossible to swallow the ball of panic in your throat but you manage, somehow. 

“Y-yes. I kn-know that.” 

“Thank you. In ancient Rome, a savior was regarded as a sort of… second father. But that’s not really what I want. Unless,” Bucky grins cheekily down at you, “you’re into that sort of thing.” 

You don’t laugh, and he sighs. “Look, I like you. You’re sweet. And… I can protect you. Patrick can barely keep your heads above water,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “I can’t believe that’s what passes for a man these days.” 

The urge to defend your fiancé is tamped down easily by your fear—you know what this man can do. 

“I understand it might take some… time. For you to come around. So, I’m prepared to offer you a deal.” 

“A deal?” You echo him hoarsely, attempting to blink back tears and failing. “What deal?”

“Well, I’m not going to post your film debut online for the world to see,” he holds up the phone, wiggling it for emphasis. “But I expect certain…allowances in return.” You don’t miss the way his eyes sweep down your body. This time, you can’t hold your tongue.

“What? No! I’m not touching you, I—”

“I get this is new for you doll, and while I’m a… modern man in a lot of ways, I’m not going to tolerate disrespect just because I’m sweet on you.” His eyes go hard. “I could have let you bleed out on the museum floor, after all.” Your breath hitches and time seems to slow as he leans in closer. His large hand is warm on your thigh through your thin leggings.

“Iown you, doll. And depending on which way I spin our beautiful first moment, I can bring down this whole house of cards you’ve built for yourself. This?” He gestures around at your apartment, but you get his larger meaning, “Only lasts as long as I say it does.” He squeezes your thigh, and then reaches up to caress your cheek like a lover, like he hadn’t just delivered a terrifying threat. “So I wouldn’t piss me off. Understand?”

You take a few seconds longer than he’d like to answer, and his lips press into a frown. 

“Y-yes, Bucky,” you manage to squeak out around the other words in your throat. “I understand.” 

“Good. Let’s get you up, doll. That doesn’t look comfortable at all.” He helps you to your feet with a patience that rivals Pat’s, and you swallow the futile scream that builds when he fixes you with that soft, gentle smile. “Let’s go pick out a movie, or something. We’ve got all night.” 

—

Bucky is stifling. 

He won’t give you a moment’s peace; standing practically hip to hip with you in the kitchen as you microwave the popcorn, standing over your shoulder as you return texts from your sister that you’d been ignoring—like he was trying to tacitly remind you of his imagined claim on your body, on your soul. 

But what did it matter, imagined or not, if he had the power to enforce it? 

The last thing you want is for Patrick to see that video, to see the absolute worst of you—for the world to see it. It doesn’t matter now that you’d been an unwilling participant, and if not unwilling then certainly unknowing—no one will believe it, not when they watch you writhing under his touch. 

You barely do. 

You sit stiffly, holding onto the popcorn in a white-knuckled grip. His metal arm falls around you, and he squeezes you affectionately. 

“See?” He says, nuzzling against your throat. Your own breath hitches—both because it’s strangely natural,like the affection is real, and because you’re disgusted with yourself for considering whatever twisted thing he’d built up in his own head as valid for even a second. “Doesn’t have to be so bad.” 

What choice do I have?

Until you can get help, tell someone—anyone—you’re stuck, completely at his mercy. You hadn’t been able to understand his breach of trust, not until he’d explained himself, and everything had clicked into place with horrible clarity. His overt overprotectiveness, the way he’d begun methodically inserting himself into your life. Even now, he traces patterns on the exposed skin of your arm, the cool metal leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

“Feel like you’re too far away, doll,” he drawls, and reluctantly you look up at him. He pats the thickest part of his thigh with a heavy hand. “Want you right here, close to me.” Your stomach lurches at his request. Sitting next to him is the most you can manage, you don’t want anything else. The movie drones on in the background as you stare at one another, and you know you don’t have long before Bucky’s patience runs out. 

“I-I—” You can’t swallow the lump in your throat so you try to speak around it. “Bucky, I don’t—” 

“You’re nervous. I get that,” he cuts you off, running his hands up and down your sides in smooth gentle movements, like he’s trying to calm a panicked animal. You suppose you are—you’re terrified, your heart pounding as Bucky’s fingers sink into the meat of your hips. You let out a shrill squeak as he lifts you, settling you across his thigh. 

“But you don’t have to be, not with me.” Hot tears, indignant tears, well in your eyes, and you try not to let them fall. Bucky’s breath is hot against the back of your neck. “I’m going to take good care of you.” You know his promise is supposed to inspire confidence, but the only thing you feel is the slow creep of dread, sinking into everything. 

This is really happening.

You want to wake up from this, but there isno waking from it—Bucky’s hands are warm as they massage you through the thin fabric of your leggings, his pleased sighs ringing in your ear as he familiarizes himself with your body. There’s no relaxing either, your body taut as a tightrope perched on his knee. To any onlooker, you know this looks like a date-night—a movie, snacks, two people cuddled close—but the pounding of your heart, the tremor in your hands, you can’t hide those. Someone onscreen laughs, and Bucky chuckles too, the sound vibrating against your back. 

“You feel tense, sweetheart,” He murmurs, and you wince as he drags his lips down the exposed skin at your shoulder until he meets cloth. “I can help.” His hungry hands come to rest on your thighs, his thumbs massaging circles into the taut muscle. You try to snap your thighs shut, wiggle off of his lap, but Bucky is stronger than you are—by far. It doesn’t even seem like it taxes him in the least to keep you seated as he locks an arm around your belly, anchoring you to him. 

“Shh, shh,” he smooths his other hand over your hair. “You’ll feel so much better, doll, I know it.” Fresh horror blooms in you as he strokes along your inner thigh with light fingers, mumbling his appreciation for you in a low, reverent voice. 

“So soft…” You can feel the thick length of his cock pressing up between the cheeks of your ass, and you choke on your horrified gasp. “See how hard you got me, sweetheart? S’all for you.” Your mouth opens, and you inhale a breath to scream—

Bucky’s metal hand closes around your throat, squeezing just hard enough to limit your air. 

“Oh, baby. I wouldn’t.” His other hand doesn’t stop moving, stroking the skin of your belly under your t-shirt. “You think I won’t fuck you if your neighbors come watch?” The blood curdles in your veins at his frankness. “I don’t mind if the whole world watches you cum on my face, sweetheart—and believe me, it’s a pretty sight. In fact, I think that might make this a whole lot easier, don’t you? If everyone knows, then—”

“Please,” you croak, tugging ineffectually at his arm. He releases his hold on your throat, and you gasp and cough as the air floods back into your lungs. You don’t want Patrick to know, to see. Without Pat, you’d be alone, adrift in the world. He’d made you feel like you could do more than just be your father’s replacement for your mother, to take care of him until he was six feet in the ground. Like you owed it to her memory to be something—like you owed it to yourself.

Bucky could have everything else—but he can’t have that. 

He kisses the skin at the back of your throat, his beard rasping against your skin. 

“Let’s not make this difficult, doll. Either way you play this, I get what I’m owed.”

“No one’s owed anything,” you croak, wriggling in his lap. Bucky stills you with a smart tap to your thigh. “That’s not how the world works.” 

“Oh?” He says, as if he’s amused by your reasoning, amused enough to let your sass slide. “I’ll remember that when folks come to collect. Funny,” he hums as his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your leggings, playing at the skin beneath them before he tugs them harshly down. “how no one’s owed, but someone always come to collect.” There’s a low laugh as he grazes the skin of your vulva.

“No panties, doll? And I thought you weren’t expecting me.” He parts your lips with two fingers, and you’re as embarrassed as he is pleased when he finds your folds damp. You huff through your clenched teeth as Bucky slowly circles your clit with one finger while he grinds his cock against you. You’re overwhelmed with him—the woodsy scent of his cologne in your nostrils, his hands on you, in you. It’s enough to make your head spin.

Which it does, unwitting pleasure winding up your spine as you stare dizzily at the ceiling. You try everything; shutting your eyes to try and keep him out, picturing Patrick, trying to remember the vows you were still drafting up for the wedding—but none of it works. Bucky’s face swims in the darkness behind your closed eyes as his fingers dance over your bud, and his breath in your ear wipes clean the memory of your future promises. 

The noise as his fingers slide in and out of you, aided by your body’s own slick is deafening. You hate your own muted moans as Bucky’s teeth drag along your shoulder blade, uncaring of whether he leaves a mark or not. The sound of his zipper lowering makes you choke back a sob, and you gasp softly at the feel of his bare cock against your ass. 

“I saw, you know,” he grunts as he ruts against you. “Fucking pathetic, couldn’t even let you get off first.” Bucky lets out a low, guttural laugh when your pussy clenches around him, fresh wetness coating his fingers. “Mmm, feels good, doesn’t it, doll?” You clench around him. “Real man would have taken care of you—that’s why I had to step in and do it.” Bucky doesn’t let up, and you whine and writhe against him. 

Your orgasm hits you like a train and you arch against his knee, your cunt throbbing as your release coats his fingers thick and sticky. You can feel Bucky moving against you, your pleasure—your shame—leaking back to coat his cock. Limp and wrung out from the force of it, you shudder. Maybe it’s cruel irony that Pat had never made you feel quite like this, that this man who you you undeniably hate can play your body like a fine instrument. 

His hands rise to cup your breasts, flicking at your nipples through your bralette. “If I didn’t want to be in your pussy so bad, I’d give this sweet ass of yours a try,” Bucky says as his the head of his cock slides lewdly against your puckered entrance. You push ineffectively at his metal hand as he lifts your hips, positioning his cock underneath your twitching cunt. 

“Bucky, Bucky no—”

“Stopwhining, doll,” his words end in a sigh as his cock begins to press up into you, pushing against the tightness of your entrance until it pops inside. He groans, huffing out an appreciative breath. “You’re like velvet inside, you know that?” He’s so thick, it’s like there’s not enough room inside of you for all of him, but he pushes in anyway.

You squeak as he fills you, his jeans rubbing uncomfortably against your bare thighs. Bucky kneads your hip with one hand and rocks against you slow, but even his short thrusts steal the air from your lungs. Even the sting of his cock stretching you open winds with the pleasure eating away at every conscious thought that manages to break through the static in your brain. 

“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart,” he underscores the complement with another muffled curse. “Could stay in you all goddamned day.” He doesn’t fuck you like Pat does, with quiet efficiency, mindful of how long he’s taking—Bucky fucks you like it’s all he wants to do. His strokes are slow, leisurely, and you sob at the slow drag of him against your walls. 

Bucky bounces you on his lap, and your breath gurgles in your throat. “F-full…” You don’t even realize you’ve spoken until Bucky’s black-honey laugh meets your ear. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it, doll?” He kneads your breasts with one greedy hand while the other tugs your legs apart, splaying you open lewdly across his thighs. Bucky sinks in with a loud squelch that makes you keen. Distantly, you’re aware of the slapping of flesh, the squeal of the springs in you and Pat’s ancient couch as Bucky lays into you with languid heavy thrusts.

“Nice, fat cock digging you out—tell me baby, that miserable excuse for a man ever make you feel this good?” When you don’t answer immediately, Bucky’s hips snap into yours hard, the head of his cock punching against your cervix. You wail, babbling. 

“N-no, no Bucky!” You wish that the guilt that flares up in you at your forced honesty is enough to quell the tide of pleasure cresting over you. You hate him—but your body still responds. “Oh, oh God—”

Pleasure sears the synapses in your brain, fireworks exploding behind your unseeing eyes as you gape up at your ceiling. Bucky fucks you through it, abandoning his slow, deep pace for quick, sharp thrusts. 

“Fuck, m’gonna fill you up, doll, want you leakin’ with me for days—”He growls low in his throat, strained breaths puffing against your ear as sticky warmth floods you, his cock jerking against your walls. The both of you sit there, panting as you try to piece everything back together. 

Bucky strokes the side of your face, before pressing a kiss into your hair. 

“See, doll?” He says with a dry laugh. “Not so bad.” 

To be continued…

prev                  next

I am no longer maintaining taglists, my friends! Please follow @box-of-bones-library​ and turn on notifications to get updates about new fics, chapters, and drabbles! thank you!

pretty when you cry - chapter ten

series masterlist/my writing playlist/chapter eleven

pairing:dark!biker!bucky x curvy!reader (dark!soulmate au)

warnings:Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. 18+ ONLY. dubcon smut. noncon/dubcon relationship. spit kink. slight degradation. unprotected sex. nipple play. swearing. choking. mentions of past noncon intercourse . kidnapping? uh the crying kink - i literally can’t remember what it’s called lmao if i’m missing anything please let me know!

words: 4.4k

notes: like i said in a post earlier - this is definitely not the last chapter lol. i added something that turned into a bigger something and so there’s gonna be way more to come. majority of what i wrote for chapter ten originally is now pretty much all in the next chapter lmao. i’m really dragging this thing out, aren’t i? anyway if you were looking forward to reader’s punishment… you’ll have to bear with me until next week. but i think it’s worth it hope you enjoy this chapter which is literally just smut mean!bucky makes his triumphant return in chapter eleven so keep an eye out for that.

feedback and comments are more than welcome and always appreciated! thank you for reading and reblogging.

This is a DARK series!!! Please proceed with abundant caution.

You didn’t pay much attention to anything aside from finding an empty pump. That was easy enough to do on a Sunday night. There were only two other cars getting gas and a couple of cars parked in front of the store front. You parked by the nearest station you could and hopped out with your debit card in hand. You inserted the chip into the card reader so you could pay and expected to be prompted to begin your pumping.

But that didn’t happen.

The screen read that there was an error. Annoyed and huffy, you tried again. And then once more before another message came on the screen saying you’d have to pay inside. The last thing you wanted to do was waste time dealing with a cashier and having to go in, but you didn’t have any other cards you could try. Begrudgingly, you rolled your eyes and rolled your neck, trying to relieve some tension before you’d be face to face with another person. You were sure you looked erratic so you tried to pull yourself together before leaving your car and rushing to get inside so you could pay. You just needed to fill up your tank and get the hell out of there.

The ringing of the bell on the entrance door alerted you to a nervous looking cashier. He was breathing like he was trying to keep himself calm as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. When he saw you, he gave you a nervous smile that you cautiously returned. Something was off. Something was wrong. The bell rang again but you didn’t pay it any mind. You wanted to just say screw it and find another gas station downtown, but before you could turn around and head back to your car, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped at the unexpected touch and paled at the unexpected face that met yours as you looked behind you.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Natasha said in her smokey voice with a smile on her face. She either didn’t seem to notice your rising anxiety or just decided to ignore it as she moved her hand off of you before continuing. “Now what’s Bucky’s girl doing all alone on this side of town this late at night?”

“It’s not that late,” you said defensively. “And I’m not his girl,” you quickly added, rushing to remind her and yourself of that. She just smiled and laughed at you - you couldn’t tell if it was condescending or if she really thought you were joking - but it didn’t matter. And if you hadn’t been annoyed already, you were well and truly pissed off now. To which, Nat quickly caught on.

“Down, kitty. What’s got you all riled up?” she said, sounding concerned, but again you really couldn’t tell if she was just being condescending or not.

“I just need to put gas, okay? Is that not allowed? Do I need a chaperone to go out alone now? As if I haven’t been followed around nearly everyday for almost a month,” you ranted, ignoring the gaze of the other customers in the small store, all of whom quickly left after Natasha looked at them with a stare that chilled even you.

After the last person left, Nat finally returned her gaze to you.

“Got somewhere to be?” she asked as she took in your nervous, agitated demeanor.

“Home,” you lied swiftly. There was no way she knew what your plans were or even if Bucky knew where you were at the moment.. “Bucky’s waiting for me, so..” you added, lying further as you glanced around outside, desperately wanting to escape to your car.

“Oh, I’m sure he is. But what’s the rush?” she said as your eyes then landed on Sam outside the window of the convenience store, hanging up his phone before he started making his way inside. In an instant, everything clicked. You didn’t know if you should be scared or angry. Reality was both, but you decided to go with anger.

“Whatis the rush?” you bit out. “You tell me. Why do we need to talk right now? I’m sure we both have places to be.”

“I think you know exactly where you’re supposed to be. And we both know it isn’t at a gas station with your car packed like you’re about to skip town.” she said seriously.

“AndI think, it’s none of your business. Scoping out my car the second I walked away?” you said harshly as Sam neared the both of you.

“Honey, I clocked you the second you pulled in,” she responded as Sam came to stand next to her. It felt like they were blocking you in. They probably were.

“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” Sam began before you cut him off.

“Save it.” you interrupted. “You were just talking to him outside, right?” you asked him straight up. Silence was your answer. “He’s on his way, then?” you continued.

He still didn’t really respond, just looked at you with sympathy. It made you even more upset.

And then you heard the roar of Bucky’s bike. And you knew you were fucked.

“I really thought you were different,” you said sadly to Sam before trying to walk past him and Nat to get back to your car. You could see Bucky from where you stood and to say he looked pissed was an understatement. He looked nearly unhinged. He had parked his bike behind your car and when he threw open the back door, you only then realized you had left your car unlocked and your keys in the ignition. As you watched him, you were sure he was rifling through your bags.

Before you could pass them, Sam stopped you gently. It didn’t take much, you could feel the fight draining out of you with each second that passed.

“I’m sorry. But he would have lost it completely if you just up and disappeared. I promise you, it would have just made things worse. No one would’ve been safe. I’m just trying to help protect you and the people you care about. And… he loves you, you know that. You two are meant to be together, aren’t you? You’re soulmates?”

You ignored his last question. Tired of hearing “but we’re soulmates” as an excuse for the way Bucky was acting.

“You think this is protecting me?” you asked, truly confused. But they didn’t know. How would they have?

“He’d never hurt you,” Natasha said confidently. You couldn’t help but laugh wryly at that. With a shake of your head, you turned back around to head outside to your car.

You were surprised to see that Bucky was pumping gas into your car but when he saw you, he slammed the pump back into its station and closed the cap to your tank as he stared at you predatorily. Worry and confusion running through you. You couldn’t tell for the life of you what was going to happen next. You couldn’t figure out what he was going to do.

He was fuming as he watched you approach slowly and cautiously.

“Where the fuck were you going?” he asked, deceptively quiet, when he knew you were near enough to hear him.

“Nowhere,” you began without thinking. You felt like how you did as a kid getting caught in a lie. Right before you knew you were about to be in trouble. For some reason, you just tried to keep lying instead of admitting the truth and facing your punishment, desperately trying to avoid it. “I wasn’t-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, y/n! Do you think I’m stupid? Like I didn’t see these bags packed full of your shit?” You flinched at him suddenly yelling at you even though there was a good distance between you still. The only other time he had yelled, truly, yelled at you like that was the night he had broken into your house the first time.

“I just needed to get away. I need to be away from you. I mean, you just threatened my family, Bucky. Did you really expect me to just be fine with that? I - I can’t have these threats hanging over my head. I don’t want to be forced to be with you. You’re trying to blackmail me into a relationship and this is just - this is all so fucked,” you said, broken hearted.

“Get in the car,” he ordered harshly.

“No,” you refused, trying to hide the nerves in your voice.

“Get your ass in the car before I make you get in,” he growled.

You looked behind you as you felt eyes on you while yours had started to sting. You saw Sam and Nat staring from across the lot, watching raptly at the embarrassingly dramatic scene unfolding before them. You realized then that they were really just watching you. As if you’d take off running at any given moment. You accepted then that you didn’t have a viable way out of there. So, reluctantly, you climbed into the passenger seat of your own car as Bucky got into the driver’s seat in the blink of an eye.

Bucky peeled out of the gas station the second you closed your door. It was tense and quiet and you could literally feel the rage radiating off of him. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel and his jaw was clenched so hard you were momentarily worried about his teeth. You wanted to speak, to say something. To protest at the very least. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You didn’t think you could push him any further before something bad happened. But a sinking feeling in your gut was telling you that something bad was already happening.

He drove in silence for what felt like forever, but in reality was only about 15 minutes, before he passed the sign indicating that you were now out of the town limits. You turned to Bucky the second that information registered.

“Where are you taking me?”

He didn’t look back to you, didn’t respond at all, just accelerated his already over-the-limit speed.

It was only a couple minutes later that your question was answered as he pulled up to a secluded house just outside of town. It was nice. Really nice. It was a two story modern farmhouse. It looked new and… costly. You were still confused though. You didn’t know where you were or why he had taken you there. Was this his house? You didn’t think much more on that, though as Bucky parked and shut off your car - exiting it just as swiftly.

He rounded the hood and threw your door open before he dragged you out of the car, not even giving you the chance to react. His grip was strong and it hurt as he walked you up to the front door before he opened it almost effortlessly and shoved you inside.

Not having the wherewithal to even try and stop your motion before you tripped over yourself and fell to your hands and knees. When you turned back around in shock, you realized that Bucky wasn’t there. He was back at your car, grabbing all of your bags from your back seat. You scrambled up to your feet and as you went outside to protest, he turned back on you before you even stepped foot out of the door.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you seethed as you tried to hold your ground at the threshold of the door. He walked straight up to you, his glare alone enough to send you walking cautiously backward into the house. He threw your bags down and slammed the door shut behind him, his dark eyes never leaving yours as he stalked toward you. For the life of you, you couldn’t look away. Your throat went dry as you watched him approach closer and closer and the most unexpected thrill went through you, but you refused to pay it any mind as you needed to figure out your next move in this unknown space. Before you could, though, Bucky finally responded to you.

“Taking what’s mine,” he said roughly as he grabbed you by the waist just the same. He moved so swiftly and had you pressed up tightly against him in the blink of an eye before he moved his metal hand to your throat, applying constricting pressure as he stared down into your eyes. You could only imagine what you looked like, mouth agape as you stared up at him, hands pulling at his wrist trying to get him to drop his grip on your neck.

He loosened his grip after a moment of you struggling against him before his hand moved up to your jaw, holding your face up to keep your gaze.

“You are mine,” he stated hungrily before leaning down and crashing his lips to yours, his metal hand never leaving your face, just pulling you closer. You were astonished by how desperate it felt. As he grabbed at you and kissed you deeper than ever, you realized that he was, in fact, acting in desperation. He pulled away only to breathe before he picked you up behind your thighs and lifted you as you reflexively wrapped your thick legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He held you effortlessly as he walked you up a staircase leading to the second floor. Your mind was in a haze as he entered what you assumed was the master bedroom. He dropped you onto the bed and wasted no time in removing his clothes before he did the same to you.

You didn’t fight him. In fact, you helped him as he removed each article of clothing you were wearing. Your armor quickly falling as his touch set you on fire. Nothing made sense but that didn’t matter. None of it mattered. All that mattered was him. It was disorienting how quickly things turned in.. less than an hour.

After you were laid back on the bed completely naked, he climbed on top of you, lavishing kisses from your lips, along your neck, to your breasts, down your stomach and finally kissing down to your pussy. You were already wet and his desperation was making you feel the same.

He licked and sucked hungrily, leaving you writhing beneath him. His hands found your hips, holding you down to stop you from involuntarily moving as you were looking for more stimulation from him. He swirled his tongue around your sensitive clit before sucking it into his mouth, eliciting a pleasure fueled scream from you as you grabbed onto the sheets. He sucked for a little longer, before releasing you, moving to lick one last long, deep stripe through your folds up to your bundle of nerves.

As he moved back up your body, you felt his hard length pressing against you as he leaned down to be face to face with you again. His flesh hand moved to grip your chin once again as his metal hand was beside your head, holding him up above you. You were breathing heavily as you stared into his deep blue eyes while he looked down at you with an undeniable, carnal, lust in his gaze.

“You really thought you could just leave me like that, sweetheart?” he asked, almost pained. You didn’t know what to say and the urge to apologize was one you had to fight as he continued staring down at you. He leaned closer and pressed a kiss to your lips before adding, “You can’t leave me. You’re never gonna leave, you understand me?” he questioned harshly as he gripped your jaw tighter in his hold.

You heard the unspoken threat and knew that you weren’t getting away from him again - but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to care at the moment as you nodded as best you could while he held your face firmly.

“Good girl,” he praised darkly as he let go of your face and moved to grab his pulsing cock in his flesh hand. He pumped himself twice and you watched as precum leaked from his tip. He moved to angle himself at your entrance before he ran the tip of his cock through your wet folds teasingly. You whined under him and he wasted no time in moving to enter you harshly. You cried at the intrusion, though you were wet and wanting, his size was still a lot for you to take. You gripped his arms that were holding onto your waist as your legs encircled him once more. He didn’t slow down even as you cried. He only held you tighter, and you were sure his grip would leave you bruised like it had before.

“Please,” you cried out as he continued thrusting deeper and deeper into your wet heat. “Please, Bucky, slow down, I can’t.. I can’t take it. S’too much,” you pleaded.

“Oh sweetheart, you can take it. I know you can,” he said patronizingly. “Just keep crying, princess. Love it when you cry for me,” he grunted through his teeth as he pounded into you even harder, leaning closer to your face, kissing away your tears as they fell. You felt like you were being split in two as you cried out his name once more.

“Bucky, it hurts!” you sobbed through the pain and pleasure coursing through you.

“It hurts?” he asked softly in your ear, voice laced with fake care, “How much?” he growled as he rutted into you again, pulling back to look at you, causing you to gasp out, your breath catching in your throat at the feeling his tone sent through you and at the even harder thrust he sent into you as he moved his hands to take your own in his. He moved them up and pinned them to the bed as he intertwined your fingers. His thrusts didn’t slow, he just kept moving against you, his thick cock dragging against your tight walls, the head of him hitting your g-spot perfectly with each thrust, only making you cry out more as you moaned pathetically, the sound turning into a sob. Your heels were digging into his back as you arched yours, inadvertently pulling him closer.

As he leaned back down to you, his face dropped to your neck as your chest touched his. His hands left yours and he moved them to hold onto your waist and around your back as you were still arching against him, holding you close to him as your hands found his biceps before snaking around to wrap your arms around his back.

You felt him biting harshly at the tender skin of your throat before he soothed the sting with his tongue. “You hurt me,” he nearly whispered against your skin. “I think you deserve a little pain tonight, too, princess. S’only fair,” he continued before he moved his head down to your breasts.

You didn’t realize how close you were to coming until Bucky took one of your nipples into his warm, wet mouth and suckled on it, swirling his tongue around your pert bud as his hand found your other breast and played with it, tugging and pulling at your sensitive nipple, squeezing the mound of flesh in his large hand, groaning around your tit as he felt you squeeze his cock even tighter as you inched closer to your impending orgasm.

He bit your nipple and you yelped at the pain, soon replaced by the unrelenting pleasure he was unleashing on your body. His warm tongue swirling around the bud yet again to soothe the sting as he continued pounding into you relentlessly, your nails digging into his back. Every thrust - more forceful than the last, every bite more deep, but every kiss, more sweet. It was the most pleasurable torture to be at his whim. It was painful, but still, you wanted more.

With his arms still around you and you clinging to him, he pulled you up, keeping you against his chest as he sat up with his cock still inside of you. The change of position had you mewling helplessly yet again as he had you sat on his thighs, thrusting up into you with so much force you could do nothing but hold onto him desperately. One of his hands found your hip as he pulled you down harshly against his every thrust, forcing you to meet him with each one as he bounced you up and down on his thick cock.

You relied on him to keep you upright against him, nearly completely leaning against his strong chest as your arms stayed wrapped tightly around him - your face nuzzling into his neck. He slithered his large hand from your hip to in between your sweat covered bodies, his dexterous fingers easily finding your clit as he began to rub it in tight circles as you clenched around him and clung to him tighter, mouth falling open in a silent cry as you came suddenly and violently, crying at the indescribable bliss that overtook you.

Bucky didn’t stop fucking you as he growled and shoved you back down on the mattress, pounding into you without abandon. His right hand was now on your waist and his left found your throat once again and he squeezed as he stared down at you animalistically. You saw the anger, hurt, and disappointment in his eyes, but the undeniable look of lust and longing was there too.

As he stared down at you, eyes boring into your own glossy ones, it looked like he was going to say something more, but didn’t. Just grit his teeth as his hand became more constricting around your throat, and his hips began to stutter in their powerful movements. You don’t know why - it was instinctive as your left hand reached out to his hip, craving him - wanting him closer - wanting to touch him, while your right hand covered his metal one still on you as he used your overworked and sensitive hole to chase his own release. A part of you was keenly aware just how easily it would be for him to crush your throat if he wanted to, and how controlled his strength was as he got closer. That turned you on, and you wanted more.

Your hand tightened around his, the constriction somehow bringing you closer to another orgasm, your silky walls tightening around him, making him groan deeply as he nearly lost control. You whimpered beneath him as he stopped moving inside you. His grip slipped up to your jaw and he forced your mouth open with the pressure.

“Tongue out,” he ordered harshly and you obeyed without thinking - absolutely no hesitation. He grinned wickedly before he lightly patted your cheek in approval. He pursed his lips and then spat onto your tongue - you could feel it running down your tongue into your throat before you swallowed it.

You were momentarily brought back to that first night - the memory of his saliva on your tongue before he left you like a used, broken doll alone in your bed. But the renewed thrusting of his cock inside your tight walls quickly pulled you back to the present.

“I get my cock in you and you just become so compliant, don’t you, princess,” he taunted before kissing you hotly. “This is just what you needed, isn’t it? Just needed me to fuck you stupid so you don’t have to think, don’t have to worry about anything,” he continued, you could feel his breath against your cheek as he spoke and you laid there, writhing, whimpering and whining beneath him.

You did feel stupid. Stupid and embarrased at how accurate he was. You really were being compliant, not even a little bit of fight was coming from you. But right now, with his cock thrusting so deeply into you, making you feel so unbelievably good - with his warmth surrounding you and his weight on top of you - you didn’t care.

You were slightly surprised that his taunting was sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core, while you heated up even more at his words.

“You gonna come again, pretty girl? I can fuckin feel you squeezing me. So goddamn tight,” he was breathing heavily and grunting above you while you stared up at him with wide eyes, nearly gasping for each breath you took in between your now weak moans.

His hands found your hips as his stuttered once again, but he didn’t stop this time. Only moved more brutally against you. The deep, hard strokes of his throbbing cock along your walls was addictive - you almost didn’t want him to stop despite the ache he was leaving you with.

He came as deeply as he could inside of you and when you first felt him shoot his hot come inside your walls, you came yet again around him. He hissed as your walls squeezed his member, wanting to keep him inside. Never wanting it to end. Because you knew what was going to happen once it ended. Once the euphoric high passed, you would be faced with that post-coital clarity. So you begged silently to let the bliss last forever.

Bucky’s arms wrapped around you once again and he flipped you both so that he was now on his back and you were resting on him. His hands rubbed up and down your curves while you both slowly tried to steady your breathing, his cock still snuggly inside of you.

You felt your eyes getting heavy and were grateful to have sleep take you so you didn’t have to come back to reality yet. As you felt yourself slip under, you vaguely heard Bucky’s voice.

“We’ll get the rest of your stuff tomorrow, sweetheart. You’re staying with me. It’ll be easier this way,” he spoke softly into your hair. “I didn’t want to force you, you know. I was trying to give you a choice. But you just kept choosing wrong,” he continued as he shook his head slightly. “You don’t have to worry about anything anymore, though. I got you. I got us,” he mumbled as your eyes shut fully. You didn’t respond, didn’t fully hear or understand him, honestly. Right now, you just needed to sleep. Your head was cloudy and all you registered before sleep took you was the feeling of Bucky’s hands on you, moving to pull his comforter up over the both of you, and his lips brushing your skin.

taglist:@cutechubbybunnyy@supergirlsdontcry@winterslove1917@thisworldwecallsleep@schnappsabatts@pessimistflora@freya-heya@cecegreen@grey-force-jedi@scorpypher@deaniu@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer@fandomsfallnomore@blackwood-bodecker-housewife