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smurphyse · 1 year

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Breakfast with the Enemy | Dark!Bucky Barnes

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Chapter 3 of Lesser of Two Evils

Warnings: domestic violence, fear, hair pulling, choking, vomiting, forced fingering, humiliation, graphic depictions of violence

Summary: You and James have an awkward late breakfast together. Later, cuddling on the couch turns into something darker

Note: This is a dubcon/noncon fic! Heavy violent content and smut will be prevalent. Read at your own risk and mind the warnings at the beginning of each chapter.

Bucky didn't sleep. Her twitching and whines kept him up all night, and his aching cock didn't help.

She was so small and damaged, and all he wanted was to flip her over and pound her into the mattress until she couldn't move or speak, but he knew he needed to savor it. He wondered idly if she'd cry the whole time, and all it did was soak the sheet in precum.

She was covered in bruises, and the ones on her thighs intrigued him the most. He knew she'd been with Loki for at least a year, and with how relentless his abuse of her seemed, he wondered if she got them from fighting back.

Had she closed her legs desperately to stop him? Or was it a byproduct of his own viciousness in bed? She had no idea, but the more Bucky learned about their sex life the more he'd know about the man.

She still had fire, so he hadn't broken her completely. She was petrified of going back, so he was brutal enough for her to sneak out in the dead of night just to avoid his wrath.

He gazed down at her troubled face, grimacing even in her sleep. How had she gotten out without him noticing? Steve said everything was still quiet at the compound last he heard, so she was smart enough to disappear into the darkness undetected.

He'd have to watch out for that.

The battle between the HYDRAs and the Norns was decades long, starting when Loki and Bucky were just kids. They'd played together as children, their fathers close and their mothers good friends. When the war began, Bucky and Loki wanted nothing to do with it.

But Bucky could still see him, in his mind's eye, standing over his father's body in that warehouse in Brooklyn…hands stained red as Jimmy Barnes bled out on a dirty floor. The look in Loki's eyes when he spotted Bucky… it changed the way he saw his friend forever.

He became his enemy. The one he'd do anything to make suffer slowly and painfully, wailing for relief.

The key to Bucky's revenge lay next to him now, half naked and vulnerable. Lost and alone, a lamb ready for sacrificial slaughter.

"Little girl," he murmured into her hair. He pulled down the covers enough to expose her legs, one draped over his middle.

Smoothing his hand up her thigh, Bucky palmed her ample ass and squeezed. She was rail thin from lack of good sleep and food, but he saw the potential of what she could be. She just needed to feel safe.

His cock was trapped under her thigh, and while all he wanted was to force her on it until he was satiated, Bucky ran his hand up and down her leg and whispered to her again. He couldn't break her too quickly.

"Time to wake up."

She grumbled a bit as she stirred, clutching him tighter and burying her face in his armpit, "Sleep, please."

Bucky scoffed, smiling as he shook his head. Resting his hand on her shoulder, he shook her lightly, "Wake up, doll."

She peeled her eyes open slowly, blinking as her gaze focused on him smiling down at her. Panic enveloped her as she scrambled to get away, but he gripped her shoulders and hoisted her upright. She went stock still, gulping loudly and staring at him wide eyed.

Bucky brushed back her hair as she began to tremble, her little chin wobbling, "You hungry?"

She hesitated, watching him suspiciously before saying in a small voice, "I can make you breakfast Mr. Barnes."

“That's not what I asked."

Her brows furrowed, and she shook her head, "I'm okay."

He squeezed her shoulders, and she flinched and tried to curl inward, "Are. You. Hungry?"

Her belly growled loudly and she slapped a hand over it and winced, "Yes, sir."

Looping his hands under her armpits, Bucky lifted her and set her on his hip. He kissed the side of her head and said gently as he carried her out of the room, "Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

There was no mistaking the blush that plumed across her cheeks at the praise, and he wondered how long it had been since she'd gotten any. Loki was manipulative, but maybe since she was locked away in his house all this time he'd dropped the guise and just tortured her.

While the first floor of Bucky’s building was a garage, the second was a gym and training center, everything made exactly to his specifications. The penthouse was actually the third and fourth floors combined, as Bucky had done extensive remodeling when he bought the place. All open concept, with one of the best views of NYC a guy could ask for.

Two bedrooms, his office, the kitchen and living room were all on the third floor, a series of stairs leading up to the shelf lined walls that were the fourth floor library. A voracious reader, Bucky had taken after his father and purchased as many as he could get his hands on, new and old. There were a few places to sit and read up there, but Bucky mostly used it as a place to snag a book before plopping on the couch in the center of the floor.

“Wow,” she breathed as he took her through the living room and to the kitchen. She clung to him like a child as she turned in his arms to see as much as she could. “Your home is beautiful, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky patted her backside in thanks, keeping her on his hip as he pulled out a few pans and some ingredients for French toast. Realizing he couldn’t make breakfast with her perched on him, Bucky set her on the counter and started cracking eggs into a mixing bowl. She pulled at her fingers as he went about his morning routine, watching him with big watery eyes.

When Bucky went to put a piece of bread in the preheated pan, she let out a little gasp and moved as if to reach for him, but quickly pulled back. He cocked his brow at her, “What?”

She gulped and chewed a bit on the inside of her cheek, “I don’t want you to think I’m telling you what to do…”

He waved his spatula at her, “Tell me.”

Letting out a little sigh, she tugged on her fingers again, “You have to put some butter down or it’ll stick to the pan. It’ll burn.”

“It always burns.”

She nodded, averting her gaze as she submitted. Her scrawny legs dangled over the edge of the counter as her whole body seemed to clench, ready for him to lash out for questioning him.

After eyeing her for a moment, Bucky went back to the fridge and grabbed a tub of Country Crock, dug a knife in and plopped some butter into the pan. She pointed at it cautiously, “A little more.”

“You know butter is bad for you, right?”

“Better than Crisco,” she shrugged. “You’re carbing up for your workout, right? It’ll help.”

“And how did you know that, little girl?” he asked playfully, but she just frowned and waved a hand toward his chest.

“Look at you.”

He chuckled at the red spattered across her cheeks, but he did what she suggested and put a little more butter in the pan. She sat quietly as he cooked, only speaking when spoken to and chewing anxiously on her lip. Bucky let her be, tiring quickly of her trembling when all he was doing was making her food.

He piled the french toast high on a plate, grabbed a few extras and took them over to the bar peninsula at the end of the counter. He felt her eyes on him as he moved around, watching his every step. When he went back to the kitchen and approached, she spread her legs on instinct and opened her arms for him to pick her up. It made him grin as he set her on his hip, she was learning so fast and he hadn’t even had her for a day.

He set her down gently in a chair and went back for two coffee mugs and the pot. He set the carafe down on a trivet and settled into the stool next to her. “Do you take sugar or milk?”

She bit her lip and looked down at her lap, “I’m not allowed to have coffee.” Bucky frowned and shot her a look, but she refused to look his way. “Why can’t you have coffee?”

“Loki says it makes me… insufferable,” she mumbled so pathetically Bucky wanted to laugh. “And he doesn’t like the taste on me.”

Bucky pushed the mug closer to her and pointed at it, “Take a drink.”

She eyed him like he was trying to trick her, but she obeyed. Her hand shook as she lifted the mug, and impatiently Bucky cupped it for her and held it to her lips so it didn’t spill everywhere. She took a small sip and grimaced, but he held it until she took a larger one, only pulling away when she began to cough.

As he set it down she wiped her mouth delicately with the back of her hand, her eyes watering, “It’s… strong.”

“It’s coffee, doll, it’s supposed to wake you up,” he chuckled and she spared him a small smile in return. “How’s it gonna do that without a little kick?”

“Good point,” she murmured, looking back at her hands again.

Bucky really couldn’t help himself, not when she was so afraid and wracked with nerves. Trailing his fingers up her arm, she caught his eye just before he wrapped them around her throat. Her gasp caught mid breath as he pulled her close, his nose nuzzling close to hers.

Tears welled as she went stiff, expecting him to hurt her but for now he had no plans to. Instead, Bucky pressed his lips to hers like he had last night. She didn’t stay frozen for as long this time, and when he kissed her again she relaxed under his firm grip. When his tongue snaked in her mouth, groaning as he tasted the coffee on her lips, she went limp and glassy-eyed.

She tasted sweet like honey, the bitterness of the carmelized dark roast blending like heaven in the soft expanse of her mouth. His mind went wild thinking about how she’d feel wrapped around his dick, and too soon he had to pull away. Patience, Barnes, patience.

She nearly fell off the stool she leaned so hard into his hand. Bucky gave her one last peck and sat her upright, then moved his hand to rest on the back of her neck, “I like the way it tastes on you.”

“Wh-oh,” she stammered as she struggled to catch her breath.

Bucky picked up a fork and speared a piece of toast, depositing it on her plate. She stared at it stupidly so he gave her a soft squeeze, “Eat.”

After twenty agonizing long minutes, she finished a piece and a half, eventually holding her little belly as it settled. Bucky himself had eight pieces, watching her peck her way through her own like a little bird.

"You finished?" he asked softly, and she nodded so he took what was left of her piece and shoved it in his mouth.

Without prompting, she took his plate and hers and took it to the sink. Bucky watched with idle curiosity over his mug as she washed the dishes with comfortability, like she'd lived with him for years. He let her, as it was the first time her hands had stopped shaking since he met her, scrubbing egg and butter from the pans with precision.

He waited until she was done to say, "You don't have to do that, y’know?"

She turned and shrugged, "What else am I going to do?"

Setting down his mug, Bucky stood from the stool. Her eyes went wide and she twisted to face the sink again as if it would protect her from him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck, delighting in her little shiver.

"I can think of a few things," he whispered hotly against her skin, kissing a few errant spots here and there.

Her body froze in place, and there was no mistaking the fearful clench of her jaw. "I meant… outside of that. You want me to be useful, right?"

"Mmm," Bucky hummed, frowning to himself. He hadn't thought about that. "We'll figure something out. If my housekeeper catches you doing her work she'll throw a fit."

"Oh," she said, her shoulders dropping as she eyed the dishes she'd washed. "I didn't realize… Loki had me clean every day."

"I'm not Loki," Bucky growled, pressing his nose threateningly to the back of her ear. He grazed his teeth along the shell, "You have other things to offer me, doll."

She turned slowly in his arms, and he pushed her against the counter just to intimidate her. It worked, the thick swallow she made as she watched him stirred something deep within him. Her eyes were wide and rimmed with tears as she whispered, "I'll do whatever you want, sir."

Bucky grinned like a fiend, "You will if you know what's good for you."

---------------

After one of the most uncomfortable breakfasts of your life, James took you by the wrist and dragged you into the living room. You were pulled off your feet as he plopped down on the couch and tugged you to his side.

You frowned in confusion when he snagged a blanket from the back of the couch and covered you both with it, letting you nestle into the crook of his shoulder. He flicked on the television and some hallmark movie played, one of those cute Christmas ones that Loki despised.

"Relax, doll," he told you, patting your backside and chuckling when you jumped.

"I thought you wanted me here to sleep with me," you said slowly, desperately trying to not enjoy his warmth.

His chest was hard beneath you, strong but comfortable where Loki was all sharp edges and biting tones. Even his prosthetic was comfortable in the way it draped over your back and held your ass in his palm. He gave you a light squeeze and rested his cheek on the top of your head.

"Oh, I'm going to fuck you," he said easily, like this whole situation wasn't fucked up. It was hard to remind yourself that he was just as dangerous as Loki when he was treating you like this. Maybe that was the point.

"Then why are you taking care of me?"

James sighed in annoyance, “You want the truth?”

You hesitated. Did you? Maybe the less you knew the better.

When you didn’t answer, James pawed at you until you sat up. Gripping your shoulders tightly, his piercing eyes bored a hole through yours as he asked, “Well? Yes or no, doll, I ain’t got all day.”

“I…” you stammered, petering off. James shook you and set his jaw, so you forced yourself to speak, “I don’t want to play mind games anymore. If you want something, just tell me and I’ll do it for you. I don’t have the energy to try to read your mind and fail every time.”

James scoffed, but a devilish smirk spread across his face, “Again, then you should have let me shoot you.”

“Shoot me now, then,” you spat through gritted teeth. That smirk turned into a toothy snarl, and within a second you were launched off the couch and held down on the expensive carpet by your throat.

The blanket tangled between you as James mounted you, throttling you viciously and ripping it away. You struggled under his grasp, kicking as much as you could but he just forced your thighs apart with his own. You couldn’t do anything but flail and cry while he squeezed you so hard your vision blurred.

“How’s this for the truth?” he hissed, shoving up your shirt and exposing you to him. His clothed groin ground against your bare cunt, hard and ready to rip you to pieces. Choking you harshly and ignoring your whines, James leaned in and growled in your ear, “I’m gonna violate every single inch of this body, little girl. You’re my toy now, you belong to me.

“And when I’ve ruined you for anyone else,” James snarled, his nose flush against yours, his breath hot and heavy. “I’m going to tell Loki exactly what I did, and he’ll know just how much you enjoyed it!”

“I won’t like it!” you screamed back, sobbing through your fear and rage. “You’re a rapist, just like him!”

James laughed cruelly, and he brought his other hand between you to cup between your legs. Without warning he shoved two fingers inside, choking you roughly and watching as you cried. Your walls stretched painfully, burning as he ground them as deep as he could, his eyes locked onto yours all the while.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing yours as the chaos suddenly came to a standstill. His fingers slipped from your pussy and he brought them up. When his eyes looked to them, you found yourself looking too.

He spread his fingers to show the slick webbing stringing between them. James turned to you and grinned, “Then why are you so wet?”

You squinted in confusion, disbelief. It couldn't be real, you weren't enjoying this! You pushed at him and he blessedly let you go, watching gleefully as you scrambled away. Tugging the shirt down to cover where he'd molested you, tears streamed down your face and your chest heaved.

James got to his knees and sat back on his heels, bringing his fingers up to suck on them. He moaned disgustingly as you watched, horrified and trembling on the carpet.

"Me or him, doll," he moaned as he pulled them from his lips with a sickening pop. "I can still get you home before he wakes up, but I shudder to think of what he'll do if you come home after that."

You rubbed your throat to ease the sting the best you could, but you knew by now that no amount of gentle massaging would take away what came next. Your stomach lurched as your head swam, and on instinct you got to your feet and bolted for the bedroom.

James was after you in a second, his heavy footfalls pounding behind you down the hallway. You feebly tried to swing the door shut as you entered the bathroom, crashing painfully to your knees as you threw up the breakfast he’d made into the toilet.

As wonderful as it tasted going down, French toast was awful coming back up. James’ panting was the only other sound in the small room as you threw up again, and he kneeled behind you and rubbed his hot hand up your back.

“I lost my temper, doll,” he murmured as you spat the rest of it out. “You upset me is all.”

You scoffed and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, “I’ve heard that before, Mr. Barnes.”

Blinking away tears, you turned to face him, leaning against the wall and reveling in the cool tile against your body. James sunk down and sat next to you, his large thigh pressed against yours. He palmed your leg and gave you a small squeeze.

“You can call me James,” he told you, in a voice much too sweet for the way he’d been strangling you moments ago. “I plan on keeping you for a while, you may as well call me by my name.”

“You gonna keep calling me ‘doll?’”

James’ mouth twitched into a grim smile as his grip turned harsh. You gasped and tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let you, instead pinning it down on the tile floor.

“You are a doll, not a person,” he told you seriously. “Just a thing to be used so I don’t give you back to Loki.”

You glared at him through watery eyes and nodded, “Fine.”

“Fine, what?”

“I choose you, James,” you sneered, and all he did was smile wider. “I’d rather be your doll than his punching bag.”

James reached out to cup your jaw with his prosthetic hand, the cool metal warming with your body heat. His thumb brushed your bottom lip and he let it drag as he chuckled, “You don’t call what just happened making you into my punching bag?”

You laughed back bitterly, “You have no idea what that man did to me. You have no idea what I’ve let him do so I could survive.”

“You remember that, doll,” James whispered, brushing back your hair like he was your lover and not your captor. He leaned in and kissed your cheek for a moment before pulling back. “You let this happen. Whatever happens to you in this penthouse… you chose it.”

Your chin wobbled as you nodded, your fate now set in stone.

This was your fault. Just like it was when you let Loki buy you a drink so long ago… you ignored your instincts and let him make you his prisoner, and now you’ve let James do the same.

You let this happen to you… again.

“I choose you.”

Notes: Doll's playing with fire! Do you think she's made the right choice? The more Bucky learns about Loki, how do you think Doll will fare??

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