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simplyholl · 5 months

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A Night With The Winter Soldier

Summary: You’re sent to be Hydra’s test subject for a new serum.

Pairing: F. Reader x Winter Soldier Bucky

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Dark Bucky. Non con. Oral. Unprotected sex.

See My Masterlist Here

A/N: I know I don’t usually write for Bucky, but this idea has been stuck in my head for a long time. I’m just tagging my regular tag list, if you’re not into dark fics, please skip! ❤️

Fucked. That’s what you were or at least what you were going to be. You shake your head as you cover your skimpy lingerie with the matching robe your mother gave to you.

Your father is the head scientist for Hydra. He had been working on this experiment for years. He had created a serum that would cause Super Soldiers to want to reproduce. The end result would be a perfect Super Soldier baby. He finally perfected it. Who could be a better test subject than his daughter?

You begged him. You pleaded and cried. It was unfair to expect this of you. But he didn’t care how you felt. He said it was your duty to do as you were told. You didn’t want to make Hydra upset with your family, did you? You knew the horrors that awaited you if you refused. Your best friend, Lilly and her whole family disappeared three years ago when her father refused a command from Hydra. They were brutal and cruel. Sadly, you were used to it.

Hydra came first. Before yourself, before your family, your loyalty had to be unwavering. You knew it wasn’t really your father who had suggested it be you. Your mother told you it was one of the higher ups. He had seen you in your new sundress a few weeks ago and thought you would be perfect to carry the first Super Soldier baby.

It made you sick. How could they do this? You didn’t want to know what would happen if you refused. “At least, he is the strongest Super Soldier. This baby’s genes will be impeccable with the both of you for parents.” Your mother reassured you, as if it would help you feel better.

You weren’t naive. You and the baby would be monitored from the moment you got pregnant. As soon as you gave birth, the child would be ripped from your arms and watched closely. It wouldn’t really be yours.

You take the elevator to the thirteenth floor, heart racing wildly. You were scared. You had seen the Super Soldiers behind glass doors where you were protected from them. Now, you were being offered on a silver platter to the biggest baddest one, like a worm on a hook waiting for a fish to jump after them.

Two guards stand outside the door to the windowless room. Their eyes roam over your barely covered body. They smirk at you as they type in the code to let you in. “Good luck, princess. You’re going to need it.” They evilly laugh as the door opens. Slowly, you walk in, your breath catching in your throat as you hear the steel door bang tightly shut behind you.

The room is dimly lit. A leather chair in one corner, a bed pressed against the wall, there’s a table with a half worked puzzle on it. It was so dreary, your heart aches for the poor guy that called this room home. You walk over to the table, running your hand over the puzzle. That’s when you feel it. Even though you couldn’t see him, you’re not alone. He’s in here with you, hid in the dark corners somewhere. You turn around to find him staring at you.

The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, you had demanded to know his name before you did this. His dark hair hung in waves by his cheeks, his cold blue eyes focused on your body. He was beautiful. You weren’t used to seeing him without the black mask he usually wore. He was shirtless, his silver, metal arm catching your attention. You studied it. The way it looks like it was forcefully put on, the red star on his shoulder. He was always silent, brooding in the shadows. You had never been this close to him.

You reach for his face, wanting to feel him before all this started. His metal arm stops you, cold hand wrapping around your wrist. You squeak when he twists your arm behind your back, walking you toward the table.

He presses you against it, you feel his erection threatening to burst out of his black pants. One swipe of his free hand knocks the puzzle to the floor. Colorful pieces scatter all around you. He lifts you on top of the table, the cold surface making you gasp when your bare legs land on it.

Bucky holds you with his metal arm, the other one makes quick work of your flimsy robe. He grabs your breast through the thin fabric of your lingerie. You squirm under his touch as he pinches your nipple through the lace.

“You don’t know how bad I need this. Been a long time since I’ve had a pretty girl like you in my bed.” You’re shocked when he speaks to you. You had been warned that he wouldn’t talk to you at all. He takes a step back to look at you, zeroing in on your panties.

He pushes your back to the wall, commanding you to stay there. You obey, you didn’t want to upset him and make this worse for yourself. He holds your top in one hand, jerking the material. The sound of it’s ripping, startling you. He was crazy strong. The thought of being manhandled by him sounded better by the second.

Next was your panties, he stripped you of them quickly, pulling you by your legs to the edge of the table. He got on his knees before you, shoving his face to your core. He licks one fat stripe up your center, moaning as he tastes you. He swirls his tongue across your clit, you buck your hips up to get closer.

Bucky pushes you down with his metal arm, ensuring that you wouldn’t be able to move. You accept your fate, laying back as he laps at you. He fucks you with his tongue, his nose rubbing expertly against your sensitive nub. The band tightly wound in your stomach snaps as he drags his wicked tongue across your clit, sucking you between his lips. He doesn’t hold back his moans as your arousal floods his face.

When he emerges, his face is glistening because of you. He wipes it off with the back of his flesh hand. Bucky jerks you off the table, pointing to the cold, cement ground. “On your knees.” You sink down in front of him as he sheds his pants. You’re surprised he hadn’t already taken them off.

You shift on your knees, trying to get comfortable. He could at least offer you a pillow to kneel on or something. You look around, and spot the only one on his bed. You’re about to ask for it, when he pulls your hair roughly, jerking your head toward his throbbing cock. It was huge. The kind of big that would hurt. You open your mouth, trying to take all of him inside.

You choke and gag, spit dribbling down your chin onto your breasts as you struggle. He looks down at you, hand still tangled in your hair. Your jaw aches already and he’s just getting started. He thrusts his hips forward, pushing your head down simultaneously. Tears fill your eyes as he hits the back of your throat. You can’t help the sob that escapes you as he pulls out, only to forcefully push his way back in.

His thumbs follow the tears on your cheeks, your mascara pooling under your eyes making you look like a raccoon. “You look so pretty when you cry.” He coos, while looking at you adoringly. He thrusts three more times, your nails dig into his thighs, a silent plea to stop. He finally pulls out, collecting you from the floor and gently placing you on his bed.

He places one leg over his shoulder, lining himself up at your entrance. He pushes inside and it’s too much. “It’s- you’re too big.” You explain. Bucky moves your other leg, spreading you wider. “You’re gonna take all of it.” He grunts, wedging himself inside you, bottoming out with one thrust. He ignores your pained scream, leaning down to lick your fresh tears.

“So tight. So perfect. Just for me.” He praises in your ear. Finally, the pain subsides. Bucky feels incredible, his thick cock dragging against the spot that makes your head swim. A gush of arousal soaks him as he swirls his metal thumb in circles on your clit.

“Look at you, such a good girl, dripping all over my cock.” You moan, clenching around him, your long nails clawing his back, drawing blood as your second orgasm rips through you. His thrusts grow sloppy as you feel him go still inside you. His hot cum, drips down your legs as he withdraws himself from you.

Bucky swipes it with his index finger, rubbing it with his thumb. He brings it to your lips, you swirl your tongue around his long digit, loving the way he tastes. You’re caught off guard when his icy, metal hand collects as much cum as he can, stuffing it back inside you.

You twitch, trying to pull away from the cold hand on your heat. “Ah ah ah.” He scolds. He presses his cool thumb to your clit, toying with the oversensitive pearl. “You have to take every drop.” When he’s satisfied with his work, he makes you lay on your back so it doesn’t drip back out.

You close your eyes, the sweet promise of sleep taking over you. You are almost in dream land when you feel the familiar nudge of Bucky’s cock at your sore center. “What are you doing?” You ask, too tired to fight him. “I’m not finished with you yet, doll.” He smiles wickedly, snapping his hips to fill you again.

Tags

@lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @wheredafandomat @freegardenbanananeck @lokidokieokie @l0ki3000 @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @litaloni @lulubelle814 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @avengersfan25 @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mybugabomlb @bunny24sstuff @luthien-elvenia-asher @gruftiela @asgards-princess-of-mischief @weirdothatwritess

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buckys-wintersoldier · 2 months

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Never say “no” to your husband | Steve Rogers

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Dark!Mob!Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> You say “no” when Steve wants you to warm his cock in front of his men.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 557

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI Smut, dark!Steve, mention of fingering, unprotected p in v, rough sex

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> 🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about: Dark!Steve Rogers + covering your mouth @stargazingfangirl18

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for sending that Drabble idea. It was funny.

Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

“Come on. Don’t be like that, honey.”

Steve groans and grasps your hand, stopping you from leaving the room while he turns you around. Your front crashes almost painfully against the hard wall in front of you. You hiss softly, and Steve pushes himself against you, holding you tight between the wall and his body. You can feel his tensing muscles against your back and the way his fingers dig into your skin.

“Stevie, pl-,” you whimper, but you get interrupted by his forward thrusting hips.

Steve's hand snaps to your face, covering your mouth before you can complain or beg even more. He knows that you would try to convince him to let go of you, but he won’t. He is desperate, and he wants you, your tight pussy. He owns his reward; he is the most popular mob boss, so he deserves to be treated like that. He thrusts his hips another time forward, his growing bulge pressing against your ass, and you whine against his hand.

“Told you to be good. Wanted to bury my dick inside of you earlier, but you made a scene. There were just a few of my men. You're a bad girl. You little slut, now I’m gonna fuck you,” he mumbles into your ear before he kisses down your neck.

Steve’s hand, which isn’t covering your mouth, removes your pants, freeing his cock. He moans loudly when he runs his thumb over the tip of his hard cock, smearing the pre-cum all over his dick, and gives himself a few strokes. Your husband loves to have you like that, begging for him to stop, maybe for his cock - depends on his mood. But now he just wants to fuck the attitude out of you, the way you said “no” to him when he told you to warm his dick. You didn’t want to, since he had a meeting with his men. Steve didn’t like to hear a no when it came to things he asked for. Not to mention that he always gets what he wants, as does his sweet little wife, who has to give him whatever he wants.

Steve’s hand lets go of his dick, sliding around your body until he reaches your pussy, moving them through your already wet folds. Steve chuckles, knowing your body exactly and how to touch you to make you drip like that. He rubs your clit, adding more pressure while he listens to the soft, muffled moans that leave your lips.

“Like that, don’t you? Such a pretty little slut for me.”

Before you can protest in any way, he shoves his dick inside of you. Your walls are stretching painfully, but your arousal makes it easy for him to slide balls deep inside of your tight pussy. Steve can’t get enough of it. Can’t get enough of you and your pretty little pussy.

“Don’t try to wiggle out of my grip. We both know you love that, love being fucked like that by your husband,” he groans, starting to thurst in a brutal pace inside of you.

His hand covers your mouth, your screams and moans muffled by it, while his dick stretches you like no one else could. And as much as you hate to admit it, he is able to fuck you whenever and wherever you want.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

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Take Me Home Tonight

Summary: You run into a familiar face while working. (Bucky Barnes)

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, fingering, dry humping, flirting.

Note: look, we didn't expect Applebee's to inspire one fic, but now it's done two fics. Shit. We are deranged.

Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Please also reblog because it’s a lot longer than I intended.

You hug the menus to your chest as you approach the booth of four newly sat in your section. As you do, you stutter step, unsure if your eyes are seeing clearly. You know that hair, the subtle wave of brown with strands of silver woven in. You step up and give a smile to the men.

“Good evening,” you place a menu in front of each of them; the burly blonde comedically crowded into the corner beside the man with dark hair and darker eyes, the blonde you vaguely recognise from his acquaintance with the most familiar face at the table, “Mr. Barnes.”

“Oh, hi,” he sits up and sets the drink menu back at the centre of the table, “uh,” he gives you a peculiar look, “I thought you worked down at the Denny’s.”

“Used to. Just got hired here,” you chime, “uh, so, are you all ready to go with your drink orders?”

“You mind?” The blond with the short hair nudges him.

“Yeah, go ahead, I’m still thinking,” he sits back.

“Heineken,” the man orders with a tweak of his eyebrow.

“Seems you don’t carry Hansa so I’ll have a jolly rancher cocktail,” the big blond intones. You almost laugh, thinking of him with the bright blue drink with a gummy worm for garnish.

“Shirley Temple for me,” the other says, “designated driver.”

“Oh, of course,” you note each order in your head, “and you, Mr. Barnes?”

“Mr. Barnes,” the man across from him goads.

“Bucky,” Mr. Barnes corrects you, “uh, I’ll take a Corona.”

“Alright, Heineken, jolly rancher, Shirley Temple, Corona,” you list off, “I’ll be back with your drinks and to take your order.”

“Thanks,” Bucky smiles.

“Yeah, thanks, doll,” the blonde at his shoulder winks. You don’t miss the elbow he receives from his seat partner.

You go to the bar and put in the order. You do a round to check in on your other tables, grabbing a few napkins at request and clearing plates. When the drinks are set out neatly on a tray, you carry them to the booth and dole them out.

“So, are we starting with an appetizer?” You ask.

“We’ll do some nachos,” the man across from Bucky says, “thanks, sweetie.”

“Beef, chicken, or veggie?”

“Chicken,” he answers.

“Hey, I know you,” the blond drapes his arm over the side of the booth, “you’re the neighbour girl.”

“Steve,” Bucky reproaches under his breath.

“What? It was killing me. I just couldn’t place the face.”

Bucky utters your name, almost reluctant to do so, “I’m just out with buddies,” he explains, “buncha old men catching up;” he jabs his thumb towards the man beside him, “Steve, Thor,” he points to the other blonde then to the man across from him, “Sam.”

“Sounds like fun,” you chirp, “well, I’ll go get those nachos. Are we planning on entrees?”

“We’ll just share the chips,” Bucky assures.

Sam leans back and pats his chest, “heartburn.”

You humour him with a smile and nod before spinning away. You flit off and head for the kitchen. It’s strange seeing Mr. Barnes– Bucky outside the neighbourhood. He’s always just been next door. Odder even seeing him without his family. Well, you guess he deserves the break. Every time you see him, he’s on his way somewhere.

🍻

The night wears on. Your shifts always pass quickly as you’re kept afoot by patrons and managers alike. Several times you find yourself visiting Bucky’s table to top up drinks and they grow rowdy as the game comes on the big screen.

You’re almost amused as you’ve never seen your neighbour like this. He’s always so stern and standoffish. A small wave as he mows the lawn or a ‘morning’ as you pass by him unlocking his car. Even your father claimed he was the most serious man he’d ever met.

“Sweetheart,” Sam smiles at you as clear the empties, “can we get our check? I gotta get them out of here before they break something.”

“Sure thing,” you say as you stack the tray with bottles and glasses, “separate or together?”

“Together. I’ll have to chase them down for the difference,” Sam answers.

As you take the clear Corona bottle from in front of Bucky, he rests his chin in his hand and watches you. Your eyes meet his and your cheeks round even more. He’s definitely drunk.

“Hi,” he babbles.

“Hello, Mr. Barnes,” you return.

“I told you, it’s Bucky,” he grins.

“Bucky,” you repeat, “you want some water?”

He sits up and drags his elbow off the table, “I guess I should…”

“For all of them,” Sam says from your other side, “please.”

“Alright, check and waters.”

You almost click your heels before you sweep off on your mission. It’s almost closing time and the place is sparse. A few stragglers along the bar but no more hectic families of screaming toddlers breaking crayons and tossing napkins.

You go to the till and print out the bill and grab a handheld from the charger. You place both on your cleared tray and fill three glasses of water. You carry them back to your last table and gently set the condensating drinks before each diner. Sam takes the bill as he holds his card between two fingers.

“You go to school?” Steve’s voice startles you before you can summon small talk.

“Uh, yeah, second year,” you answer him.

“I thought so,” he says, “college girls…”

“Shut up, Rogers,” Bucky grumbles, putting his hand up to block out Steve, “ignore him. He’s trashed.”

“Speak for yourself,” Steve swats his hand down and receives a swipe back.

The men slap at each others’ hands as Thor stands and leans over, his size deterring the men as he shoves their arms apart, “enough. Or I’ll drag you out like stray cats.”

You try not to show your discomfort as Sam hands you back the machine and it loudly prints his receipt. You offer him a copy but he insists you go and enjoy your night. You bid them all the same and set off to clear the last of your tables.

Your coworkers start their own closing tasks and the music turns off as closing time hits. You glance up, everyone’s gone. You go back to the booth and gather up the mostly untouched glasses of water and wipe it down. With your tables done, you turn in your apron and go to get your cut of the tips. Your tally comes up higher than you expect thanks to the table of middle-aged men.

You head out the back door and round to the front of the shining marquee. You’ll uber home since your mom is out of town. As you step up on the little pavement lip in front of the restaurant, a figure stands from their perch on the ground. You don’t recognise Bucky until he says your name.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” You ask as you lower your phone.

“Ah, well, me and Steve…” he rubs his neck and chuckles, “I’m waiting on a cab but none have passed by.” He shrugs, “plus, I figured we’re headed in the same direction…”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess,” you say, “I was just ordering an uber. Kinda don’t like taking them alone so late at night anyway.”

“Great,” he slurs, “uh, sorry about tonight. My friends are… a lot.”

“It’s fine, you were having a good time,” you select a ride and black out your phone. “Just make sure you drink lots of water.”

“Hmm,” he hums, “you’re so nice… I’ll be fine, you know? I can take care of myself.”

“I know, I just… I hate hangovers.”

“Oh? Didn’t take you for a drinker?”

“Well, don’t tell mom but once in a while.”

“My lips are sealed,” he surprises you as he reaches to squeeze your shoulder. “And I’ve never broken a promise to a pretty girl.”

You want to laugh. He’s tipsy and it’s kind of cute. The glare of headlights flash over you and he drops his arm away from you. The uber approaches and you check the plate, pointing Bucky in ahead of you.

He sidles over the seat and yawns as you climb in next to him. The driver confirms your destination as you let yourself relax against the seat. The tension of your shift slowly drifts away.

Bucky slowly slides until he’s leaning against you, “I’ll pay you back for the ride,” he grumbles as he rests his head on your shoulder.

The tension seeps back into you but you try not to overthink it. He’s just your neighbour, a friendly neighbourhood dad, a bit discombobulated from his night out. He probably doesn’t get many of those.

“Been a long time since I went home with a girl like you,” he chuckles.

You laugh, a nervous tickle in your throat as his weight bears down on you. You can smell a hint of citrus from his hair. Hopefully he’ll forget this all by the morning.

You’re quiet as the driver continues on. By the time you get to your street, you’re sure Bucky’s fallen asleep. You’re worried about getting him back to his place. As you get close to your house, you point the driver to the house right beside your own. That’ll be easier.

To your surprise, Bucky sits up and lets out a sleepy grumble. You thank the driver as your neighbour grabs onto your hand and tugs you towards his side as he opens the door. You let him and he clings to you as the uber leaves you in the shadow of the Barnes’ abode.

“Let’s go to bed,” he pulls you towards the walkway.

“Bucky,” you utter, “uh, Mr. Barnes?”

Is he that drunk? He must not realise you’re not his wife. You look around. You don’t see her car. That explains his little boys’ night. She’s probably visiting family again so he’s all alone.

“Hey,” you laugh unevenly as he drags you up onto the porch. He’s very strong. “Mr. Barnes, it’s me.”

He stops and sways. He squints at you and feels his pockets, jangling his keys through the fabric. He steadies himself and grins. His eyes hold yours, drowning you in pools of oceanic blue.

“I know,” he says soberly, “it’s you.”

You stare at him in confusion, blinking as he slides his hand into his pocket. You glance over your shoulder at the dark siding of your parents’ house. You face him again as he pulls his keys out but drops them between his shoes. You put your phone in your purse and shift the bag to rest on your hip.

“I should– oop,” you look down, “Mr. Barnes,” you bends to grab the keys, “alright, I’ll just get you inside and head home.” You stand up and hold up his keys, “which one?”

He points to the square gold one and you shove it into the slot. You push the door inward and gesture him ahead of you. He shuffles over the threshold, tripping before barely catching himself on the frame. You follow him in and look around cautiously. You’ve never been inside.

“Let’s get you to the couch, Mr. Barnes,” you grab his arm as he wobbles, “you just need to sleep this off–”

You tug on his arm but he doesn’t budge. Once more, all unsteadiness fades and he’s suddenly immovably still. He turns his head slowly and puts his hand over yours.

“I told you,” he faces you as he guides your hand up his arm, “it’s Bucky.”

“Um, alright, uh–”

He backs you up and you collide with the door, the impact forcing it shut. You gulp and press yourself against the inside as he pens you in, clutching your hand to his shoulder. The beer on his breath mingles with the citrusy scent that cloys from him.

“Mr. Barnes, what–”

“Shhh,” his hand slips from your and he grips your chin, “it’s okay–”

“St–”

He smothers your protest with a kiss. You’re too stunned to do more than flatten yourself against the door. His grip makes your jaw ache as his other hand crawls up your thigh. You squirm and push against his shoulder with a whine.

He doesn’t relent. He pushes his foot between yours, edging them apart as he picks your fly open. You curl your fingers, jabbing your nails into him. He growls but doesn’t stop.

You turn your head, forcing your mouth away from his.

“Mr. Barnes… Bucky, please–”

He hushes you again as his hand falls from chin to throat. He squeezes, crushing out any hope of screaming for help. He nuzzles into the side of your neck, his nose tickling the line of your jaw. You whimper as his hand delves beneath the cotton of your panties.

His fingertips brush along your trimmed vee of hair and he swirls the short curls with a purr. He extends his middle finger, feeling along your folds and dipping between. He flicks his finger back and forth, exploring you until he finds your clit. He rolls his finger, stoking a heat beneath his touch.

You wriggle and trail your hand down his arm, gripping his wrist as you fight him. You’re too weak. You croak through your tight throat as you try to fight the swirling tide building with the friction of his roughened fingertip. This can’t be happening.

He’s drunk. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s not like this.

A million thoughts race with as many sensations. You stand on your toes as your muscles knots and the tension coils in your core. You shouldn’t feel like this. This is wrong. This isn’t real. Your eyes roll back and you hide behind your eyelids.

His finger glides as you slicken against him. He quickens his pace, toying with you as he breathes against your neck, puffing damply as his hand remains firm on you. He keeps you pinned as he goads your body on, fueling a fire you’ve never lit before.

You squeak as you twitch without permission. You succumb to the brewing storm, blown away in the whirlwind as your mind is stifled by your body. You gulp and gasp, your hand slipping down to his chest as your other falls away from his arm.

“You’re so sexy,” he purrs as he lets you go.

You brace yourself against the door, breathless and paralysed as you watch him raise his hand. He presses his fingertips to his mouth and you see the glisten on them. He pushes them inside and sucks them clean with a growl.

“And so sweet, baby,” he steps forward, crowding you again.

The afterglow has you helpless. He feels along your side as his other hand wanders down your leg. He pulls your knee up and brings himself flush to you. He bends his knees as he presses his crotch into yours. You murmur at the hot weight between you.

He curls his arm around your neck and your head lolls back. He bows to kiss you, devouring you as he slowly rocks his hip. A fiery heat builds between the layers of fabric, the friction of your seam rubs you through the damp cotton of your panties.

He gasps into your mouth as his pace quickens. The door shifts and squeaks with his motion as he pounds you into it, hips pumping as his bulge pokes through his jeans rigidly. Your head droops to the side and his wet lips smear over your cheek. He bites into your ear lobe and snarls.

Another tickle flares and you moan. A small burst that has you just as senseless. Your delight leaks onto your panties, spreading to the edges.

“Mmmmm,” he hums and releases the pinch of his bite, “fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me go– right in my–” he chokes as his fingertips sink into the bottom of your thigh and he pulls your leg higher, “jeans–”

He shakes and lets out a long rattle, sprinkled with deep groans and soft mewls. He leans into you completely and shudders, stilling at last. He sinks down with you, bringing you to straddle him as his knees meet the floor.

You heave and lift your head, gaping at him as his eyelids droop sleepily. He smiles, the expression crinkling around his eyes. He leans in and kisses you again, nibbling on your lower lip before pulling away.

“I won’t tell your mom about that either, kitten.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #one shot #mcu #marvel #au #silverfox au #captain america #avengers #winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader

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wandaslittlelove · 3 months

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Stopped loving Me

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader Warnings: Angst?

“So I'm not allowed to love you anymore?” I asked with my head turned away from wanda. Ever since Westview was created and she chose vision instead of me we had been arguing non stop.

“That's not what I'm saying!” I look at Wanda with a stone face not wanting to show her how much she's hurting me.

“Really? Because I believe the words ‘it would work out better if you stopped loving me’ mean that.” Wanda looks at me annoyed before she speaks

“I'm just saying it would be easier”

“For who? Me or you” the silence from wanda is all the information I need. With a scoff I pick up my bag before walking to the front door.

“Knowing that you chose a robot over your fiance really says a lot about you Wanda. You created a whole life with someone you had claimed to barely know while I was grieving the death of my sister. And when it all came crashing down you run back to me. I don't want that. I don't want you. I stopped loving you as soon as you ran into his arms” as i exited the place that had once been my home the tears had finally started to fall. Although they weren't out of sadness.

I was free. Finally free…or that's what I thought 4 months ago.

Until suddenly Wanda was trying to kill a child for her magic. Until Dr. Strange came to my door asking for help. And Until I found out our destinies would forever be linked.

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beyondspaceandstars · 1 year

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You Heard Me

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, discussions of sex, dom/sub relationship, bit of dumbification, slightly dark - 18+, minors DNI Summary: Bucky doesn't really like it when you fight him on something. A/N: i was not sure about ever posting this bc i think i wrote it when i was slightly drunk. i remember trying to write more dark fics but then this happened and it's more dom/sub vibes than dark. either way.....it was a moment. it's short (under 1k words) but impactful. enjoy.

Masterlist

NSFW below break, 18+ only - under 18yrs DNI

"Give me your panties."

"Wh—What?"

"You heard me," Bucky growled. "Give me your panties."

You looked from him to the restaurant the car was parked in front of. You could make out through the window some of his friends from work (as he described them — they were superheroes to you) sitting around a table humming and hawing over the menu.

You’ve been with Bucky for just under a year but this was the first time you were set to meet anyone in his life. Bucky had been very strict with your relationship. He was incredibly dedicated but also suffocatingly possessive. He had become your world. Your everything. The air you breathed. The thoughts in your head. He ran within you, through and through.

You’d normally do anything he asked, thankful for his attention and love, but you grew hesitant at this request. You weren’t sure why. There wasn’t much you and Bucky hadn’t done in terms of intimacy but that was all in the comfort of your secluded home. You could be quite shy and reserved around others and it had been a bit since you had to interact with anyone besides Bucky.

"Why?" You softly asked.

"Why?" Bucky scoffed. "Did you just ask me why?"

"I… I’m sorry," you muttered, "it’s just…"

"It’s just what?"

You could sense his patience running thin. You sighed. "Bucky…"

He wasn’t having much more of it. Bucky gripped your chin and forcefully turned your head to face him. You gasped at the motion, a spike of fear and excitement spreading in you.

"Is it because I came inside you?" He asked mockingly. "That’s the issue, isn’t it, sweetheart? It’s because you had to wear this little number and I had no choice but rail you in the backseat."

You frowned. "You said you like this dress."

Bucky’s eyes darkened. "I love this dress, but wearing it comes with consequences, doesn’t it?" He spoke to you slowly, almost dumbing down his words. It made your head go foggy. "Give me your panties," he repeated for a third time.

You let out a little whine. "But I… It’ll be all messy."

"Good," Bucky snapped. "There won’t be any confusion over whether you’re taken or not."

A shiver crept down your spine. Although Bucky hasn’t taken you out much, the times he did, he always remarked about how it seemed like no one could take their eyes off you. He was constantly shooting men death stares or gripping your waist to the point of bruising. You didn’t really think his fears held much merit but you’d never tell him that — even if it was starting to get to a concerning point. Like now.

When you didn’t respond immediately, not even sure what to say in defense anymore, Bucky stepped it up a notch. "Give me your panties now or I’ll rip them off you. Your choice, honey."

He loosened his grip on your chin, allowing you to turn away. You took another glance at the restaurant. For a brief second, you made eye contact with Steve Rogers through the window. You immediately looked down at the car’s floorboard. Bucky’s eyes were practically burning holes in your head.

Sighing, you reached under your dress and slowly slid your pink satin panties down your legs. With every shift you felt the familiar warmth leak around your thighs.

You didn’t want to look at Bucky as you handed him your panties but he wasn’t happy for that. He grabbed at your neck this time, willing you to turn to him once more.

"Good girl," he said with a devious smirk. "I’ll only have to punish you a little tonight for trying to fight me earlier."

Your heart jumped in your chest. "Punishment?"

Bucky sighed. "We’re almost at our one year anniversary, sweetheart, I thought you would’ve learned by now but you’re a tough one."

You knew what punishment meant. You knew the room it was conducted in. A room you had spent many nights and many days in, completely consumed by the wants and will of Bucky.

"I… I’m sorry," you whispered.

Bucky seemed to consider it as he ran a thumb over your pouting lip but it didn’t last long. He gave your cheek a little harsh tap before pushing you to face forward in your seat.

"Save your sorries for when you’re tied to the bed and begging me to stop."

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olsenmyolsen · 9 months

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* Navigation *

master list

On The Inside With Elizabeth Olsen Masterlist (Elizabeth Olsen x Female Reader)

Maroon - A Collection of Marvel Women One Shots Masterlist - Some 18+

Dark Maroon - A Collection of Dark Marvel Women One Shots Masterlist - All 18+

Completed Requests - Some 18+

This Is Me Trying - (A Y/N Parker Spider-Woman X Kate Bishop Story) Masterlist

who i write for

Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Yelena Belova, Kate Bishop, Carol Danvers, Lizzie Olsen, and More (if you want)

requests

Requests are open. I'm in between my one-shots and main fic right now. So feel free to hit me up :)

rules to follow

First things first... just be nice!! If you're here I assume it's to read fan-fic just like the rest of us. I typically only write fem!reader and gn!reader only. I've never written male!reader. Doesn't mean I wouldn't do it :) It would just have to be a really good reason! I will write smut, angst, fluff (we all need it) age difference tropes, fictional step-cest, and more. Hard NO's - What I won’t write is pedophilia, scat play, incest. If you have ANY questions about what I will and won't write please message me. It's honestly just too much to write it all here.

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Love you all!

Thank you so much for reading and taking the time for just a little piece of me!

dividers by @/benkeibear (go check them out)

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layla4567 · 9 months

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Nursing day

Quicksilver x reader

Summary: The last battle against Jean was not gratifying and your boyfriend got the worst of it. Now while he is in the infirmary you visit him every so often and take care of him

Warning: injuries, mention of blood, fluff, a bit of angst, very poor plot of the film dark phoenix, spoilers of that movie, mention of death by impalement, a bit of coursing words

Jean was out of control, we didn't understand what was happening to her and to top it off she refused to receive help. Ororo, Hank, Charles, Raven, Scott, Peter, and I were trying to reason with her and reassure her that we wouldn't hurt her. On the other hand, the patrolmen had managed to upset Jean and now all that remained was to try to stop her, unfortunately we had to fight. Kurt was the first to strike, he teleported behind her but Jean's powers had expanded to unmatched levels and with a simple movement of her hand she pushed Kurt away as if he were a simple fly. Some policemen had approached and were pointing their guns at Jean, scared I approached but a hand stopped me

"Not yet"

Professor Xavier sitting next to me looked at me with a worried frown, he knew that even if I wanted to stop her it would be impossible.

Concerned, I saw how before the policemen could shoot, Jean yelled for them to stop and extending her arms, she overturned the cars, moving away, also blowing up the policemen. I could see that Jean's eyes had an orange aura around the pupil, right in the iris. And from his cheeks ran some kind of veins the color of fire.

This was too much for me, I wanted to help and I didn't know how. I was a mutant with cryokinesis. I could absorb energy and convert it into ice, as well as freeze things and people. Even so, I didn't think my powers could be of much use this time, Jean far surpassed me, to tell the truth, at that moment she surpassed all of us. I was trying to think of a strategy while Raven was talking to Jean to reassure her when to my horror I watched as Raven flew off and was impaled near a tree. I felt my legs lose strength as I raised a hand to my mouth in horror, Charles next to me had wet eyes and his lips trembled. Hank yelled her name hoarsely as he went to help her but unfortunately it was too late.

This was getting out of hand and I stepped in determined to end this once and for all. I could already feel that characteristic cold in my hands when I used my powers when suddenly Charles stopped me again.

"No!...wait.."

I turned around annoyed, not understanding why our professor refused to cooperate and stood idly by, but when I saw his afflicted face and his eyes full of tears, I understood that he didn't want to lose another student. I shake my head in frustration as I rack my brain trying to come up with some plan that will work, when I feel Peter stop next to me.

"Leave it to me"

With a quick and sure movement he put the glasses he was wearing on his head and ran towards Jean before we could stop him. Charles and I yelled at him to stop but he was gone at the speed of light. With my heart in a fist I was expecting the worst. Peter went to her climbing pieces of wood, we couldn't see him because he was going very fast but I could see how Jean made a movement of her hand and moved away a board where Peter was just going to step making him lose his balance and fall. Peter fell like a sack of potatoes and rolled abruptly ending up sprawled on the grass of a garden.

"NO!"

I screamed at the top of my lungs and trembling I ran to where Peter was. I approached calling him urgently but he didn't respond, his face was dirty and bruised. I took his face in fear. I saw how blood began to emanate from a wound on his forehead. Compunged and with teary eyes, I quickly looked for his pulse and breathed with relief when I verified that he was only unconscious. Inside me, sadness and anger swirled. I wanted to break everything. I was furious, with Jean, with Charles but especially with myself. If I hadn't hesitated so much I could have prevented this, or at least prevented Peter from going to confront him and going instead, even though that meant I could end up badly hurt.

when all seemed lost, out of nowhere Jean realized the damage she had done, she seemed to have woken up from a heavy trance. She looked around scared and with a special grimace of grief towards where Raven's body was. She couldn't help it and flew off in a hurry after muttering sorry. Apparently Charles had restored Jean's mind to normal.

With Raven's body in Hank's arms and Kurt and Scott holding Peter we rushed to the mansion urgently. I held Peter's hand in anguish, hoping that he would recover and that it was nothing too serious. When we got there Peter was taken to a parlor to put him on a gurney while the others prepared Raven's funeral. I stayed with Storm sitting on a bench. I was nervous so she put a hand on my shoulder and comforted me saying that everything would be fine. So much had happened in such a short time, and I didn't know who to feel worse for than Raven or my boyfriend, Peter.

Suddenly I saw Peter come out on a stretcher. I immediately stood up and ran to where they were taking him. His face was destroyed, he was wearing a bandage on his head and blood was coming out of his nose, apparently broken.

"Peter..!"

He turned making an effort to look at me, his eyes seemed to ask for help. They quickly took him to the infirmary. I took a step and stretched out my arm as if trying to catch my boyfriend who was walking away hurt. Storm stopped me by grabbing my hand as if she was afraid I might run away. Seeing him like this was the straw that broke the camel's back and I began to cry inconsolably collapsing in Ororo's arms.

"Don't worry, everything will be fine, at least he's still alive"

She rubbed my back as she wrapped me in a warm hug, but I couldn't calm down. I felt terribly guilty, if I had used my powers before Peter wouldn't be in the infirmary now.

The days that followed were hard, we didn't know anything about Jean and Raven's absence felt present like a heavy shadow loaded with misery. Peter was still being cared for in the infirmary but visitors were still not being accepted. I bite my nails all the time walking from here to there in my room. From time to time Scott or Kurt would visit me and tell me that I don't have to worry about anything and that I could see Peter soon.

and indeed it was. One day I was trying to study without much success when someone knocked on my door, it was Scott. He seemed to have a confident smile and that could only mean one thing, I nervously asked him.

"Yeah, you can go see him"

I felt a weight lift off of me, hugged Scott and ran to the infirmary. Upon arrival they told me that Peter was resting but that I could see him for a few minutes. Nervously I entered the room and saw my boyfriend lying on the table with a bandage on his nose, on his head and a bruise on his eye. I felt my stomach drop but I tried to keep my composure so it wouldn't show. I sat near him in a chair. Despite the injuries he seemed to sleep peacefully, I couldn't help but put my hand on his caressing him. Feeling the warmth of my hand Peter woke up confused. He slowly turned his head with a wince and looked at me with tired eyes. I smiled at him as best I could but my eyes were starting to get wet again.

"Hey.. Elsa"

Peter always made fun of me by calling me that. I couldn't help but shake my head and laugh, but soon the laughter turned into crying and lowering my head I started to sob, all the emotions that I had experienced those days came together and came out in the form of tears.

Peter looked at me with a frown.

"Please, don't cry."-said almost in a whisper

But I couldn't help it, I grabbed my face with my hands. Peter made an effort to reach out a hand and put it on my arm with a pitiful whimper. Noticing this, I quickly held his hand, fearing that he might hurt himself by trying too hard.

"Baby, I'm ok"-he said

Peter went to great lengths to pretend everything was fine when he had a broken nose and a bruised eye. But that filled me with tenderness, he just didn't want to worry me

"Shh..don't say anything, you have to regain your strength"

I took his hand and kissed the back of it and he smiled. Peter may have a super quick regeneration ability but this time it will definitely take him a little longer to recover. When visiting hours were over, I promised Peter that I would visit him every day and bring him something different so he wouldn't get bored.

I went to see Peter the next day, carrying a Walkman with his favorite playlist. I sat in the same chair with the walkman hidden in my back

"Hi sweetie"

Peter looked at me with a glint of excitement in his eyes and a small smirk.

"Hi doll"

"guess what i brought for you today"

Peter just shrugged slowly so I showed him the walkman and his smile widened. I got up and put him the headphones on giving him a sweet little kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Ow"

His nose was still hurt, I laughed softly and apologized. Luckily now Peter could move a little more so he grabbed the walkman and picked a song at random. Some songs that I had chosen were songs that we used to listen to together.

"Listen to number 5, I know you'll like it"

He obeyed me. His serious face little by little lit up and transformed into an open smile, almost a laugh.

"I can't believe you added this song" he laughed "Sweet dreams are made of this.."

Of course, I had to add his favorite song that he made me listen to exhaustion only to look at me funny when I hummed it distractedly. The minutes passed and once again I had to leave Peter alone but promising to return another day.

The days passed and I brought him more and more things to entertain himself. One day I went to a comic book store and bought his favorites.

Peter was already waiting impatiently for me to know what I had brought him this time, when I entered my boyfriend looked at me anxiously like a child waiting for his Christmas present. Patiently he waited for me to sit in my chair like a learned ritual and asked me what I had brought him this time.

"You have to guess, love"

That was a kind of game that we had between the two of us, every time I brought him something he had to guess. If I noticed that it was difficult for him to guess the object, I would leave clues for him. If he didn't guess it, sometimes he made me beg a little until he begged me to give it to him. And if he guessed as a prize, he would not only give him the object but also a kiss.

"Mmh is my favorite drink?" I shook my head.

"Ok, ok. Did you bring me a gameboy?"

"Sorry, not today"

Peter put a finger to his forehead trying to think by closing his eyes. I laughed at his face.

"Damn, babe give me a clue." Peter made a piteous pout.

"Okay, the object behind my back is smooth and is something children often read"

Peter frowned and stared at nothing, confused and thinking, I had to stifle a laugh. Suddenly he opened his eyes in surprise.

"I know!, you brought me a comic!!"

"Ding, ding, ding!. You got it"

I gave the comic to Peter giving him a tender kiss as well, who started clapping like a child. It did me good to see him happy. I knew how hard it was for him to be on a stretcher without being able to use his powers. That's why I did my best so that he wouldn't get bored and disobey by escaping from the infirmary.

As the days passed Peter was recovering, his bruise had completely disappeared and several bandages had been removed. Even he could already sit up straight on the stretcher. This time I brought him something special, something he had always wanted but for some reason could never have. Even as a good kleptomaniac that he was, he had tried to steal it from stores without much success.

"How is my favorite boy?"

Peter sat grinning on his stretcher.

"Very bad, I have abstinence from your kisses"

I rolled my eyes laughing as our usual guessing game began.

"Alright, I guess you brought me a water pistol today" He said with his arms crossed and raising an eyebrow smiling

"No, but you were close, it's a toy"

"An action figure?"

"Nope"

Peter ran out of ideas and began listing all the toys he knew.

"A robot? A ship? A drone? Come on doll, what is it?. He grumbled angry

"You give up? Oh then I guess I can't give it to you"

Peter leaned back on the stretcher pouting and grunting, I couldn't help but laugh and so he wouldn't get mad at me I showed him the toy. When Peter saw it his face went from a frustrated grimace to a gaping ecstasy and surprise. What he had brought her was a lit red remote-controlled car. But it wasn't just any car, it was a limited edition toy that Peter had seen in an ad when he was a kid.

"NO WAY! WHERE DID YOU GET IT?!"

"At a garage fair, I exchanged it for another object" I said laughing while my boyfriend took the car and began to play

I saw him happy as a loving mother watching her son grow. Suddenly, Peter stopped playing and looked at me seriously, stretching out his arms as if he wanted to hug me.

"And my kiss?"

I approached him laughing happily and planted a kiss on his lips taking his face in my hands

That afternoon I was trying to figure out what gift I could bring to Peter. I didn't know when they were going to discharge him so I had no choice but to keep looking for things that he liked. I didn't know what to give him anymore, I had gone to convenience stores, thrift stores, even his favorite fast food joints.

I went to my room to try to find something I could do with my own hands, it would be a different gift, handmade but I was sure he would like it. I rummaged through my desk opening and closing drawers without finding anything that would help me. I turned my room on its head without being able to find something that would work for Peter. In a bad mood I left there walking through the halls and asking my friends what I could give him. No one gave me an answer to my liking.

It was already time for the visit to the infirmary and I had nothing to bring him. Disappointed, I had no choice but to go to where Peter was and tell him that I hadn't brought him anything. I could already imagine his face, at first he would laugh thinking it was a joke, but then he would look at me disappointed but not before trying to hide it by telling me that it didn't matter. I hated to disappoint Peter. With these thoughts in my head I distractedly headed to the infirmary but upon entering the room I had not realized that Peter's stretcher was empty. I had my head down and that's why I didn't realize it but when I raised it and my eyes searched the place I worried. Where the hell had Peter gone? Didn't he take it anymore and ran away?

Cursing under my breath I started looking everywhere for him nervously.. Peter could be very impulsive and do stupid things when he got bored. I went to other rooms in the infirmary in case they had transferred him but I couldn't find him. Nervous, I ran through the entire mansion looking for him. In the end I was standing at the entrance of the mansion staring out and biting a nail concentrated. Damn it, where could he have gone?

"Shit, shit ,shit. You only had one rule and you broke it, idiot. Why didn't you stay in the infirmary? Don't you realize you're hurt, you sewer slime?"

If I were in a cartoon, smoke would already be coming out of my ears. Suddenly a voice behind me froze my blood

"Uhh, do you talk to your mother with that mouth, baby?"

I turned around in disbelief, there in front of me was Peter with his usual clothes looking at me with mockery. I yelled with excitement and hugged him around his neck as he picked me up and spun me around until I laughed.

when he put me down I gave him a little hit on his shoulder and told him angrily

"Where the fuck were you??, I looked for you everywhere"

"First of all ouch, and secondly the nurse released me this morning. She told me that my wounds are healed, what do you think?"

Peter spread his arms wide and spun around as if he were posing in a new set of clothes. I smiled and gave him a passionate kiss that he returned around my waist.

"You could have told me, couldn't you?"

"Sorry, babe it was a surprise. I also wanted to see how you got angry, it's adorable"

"Peter.."

"Sorry"

Peter cleared his throat. "Speaking seriously, I wanted to thank you for everything you did for me these days, even if it wasn't necessary. It's nice that you went to the trouble of entertaining a loser like me."

Sometimes Peter called himself a loser even though he really wasn't. In fact, sometimes I didn't know if he did it on purpose to pity me and manipulate me into doing him a favor or if he actually thought that way about himself. This time he seemed sincere.

I put a finger to his lips shutting him up."It was a pleasure to have done all that for you"

He smiled puffing out his chest with pride.

"And you already know that you are my favorite loser"-I winked mischievously

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sofi1sstuff · 2 years

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🪖Steve Rogers recommendations🪖

Ongoing

🪖Captain’s legacy (by @onsunnyside): Steve Rogers is the prideful golden-haired captain of the football team, the vice president of Arcadia Phi, and a gleaming star amongst the dull, forgettable faces of school. He shines with domineering entitlement and an unbreakable resolve, and you were doomed from the moment you stepped onto campus.

Series masterlist

🪖Third eye (by @onsunnyside): The man out of time meets a woman out of touch.

Series masterlist

🪖His sinful devotion (by @marvelcriminalhoe): You’re the preachers daughter. The innocent, young, church loving, preachers daughter. And Steve is one of the most eligible men in the church. Who is far older and more experienced than you. But he’s Steve, everyone trusts him. Which means you should to, especially when he sets his sights on making you his wife. Because Steve Rogers would never do anything wrong, or have you do anything wrong. Right?

Series masterlist

Completed (series/miniseries)

🪖What a world (by @onsunnyside): S.H.I.E.L.D. had a lot of secrets, you just never expected one of them to be an actual person—a blue-eyed giant, wild manbeast at that.

Series masterlist

🪖Photograph (by @kaiparker-avengerssmut): You find out what photo your husband keeps in his wallet

¨Part 1 Part 2

🪖All is fair (by @sunflowersoldat): Family is important, but so is the Family business. Everyone has secrets, some are deadly. Your the best in the business, but no one knows who you are. Tensions are high, will you raise the stakes or fold under pressure?

Series masterlist

One Shots

🪖Its always the quiet ones (by @bonky-n-steeb): You set your eyes on the new doctor in town.

🪖The professional (by @labella420): You get your first professional massage

🪖Clandestine meetings and stolen stares (by @cruelfvkingsummer): Who knew Steve Rogers had kept such a pretty little secret?

🪖Good girl faith (by @cruelfvkingsummer): The world is ugly but at least it ahs you

🪖Religion (by @lanadelreyscokewhor3): Steve’s prayers have finally been answered after all these years, as he finds you waiting for him in the church he calls home. Captivated by him and his charm, you get swept up in his arms, to soon find out Steve isn't the saint he painted himself out to be.

🪖It’s you (by @rogersevans): It’s always been him. You’ve just never noticed it before, until it was too late. One confession in a heated moment changes your entire relationship with Steve.

🪖Lamb to the Slaughter (by @chrisevansredbelt): Steve takes a liking to you and your naivety. he also takes advantage of it.

🪖Enemies (by @assembletheimagines): Captain America gets on your nerves. But he could say the same about you.

🪖No Strings Attached (by @viperbarnes): “Every time you’ve called me, I’ve come,” Steve says, voice thick with hurt, and you clench your teeth. “Every. Time.”

🪖She calls me daddy (by @hertzwritings)

You can check other characters recommendations here

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers one shot #dark!steve x reader #steve #dark!steve rogers x reader #stepdad!steve rogers #steve rodgers x reader #MCU #Marvel MCU #mcu imagine #mcu fic rec #mcu x reader #mcu steve rogers

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pvri-more · 2 years

Text

The Ghost of You (One Shot)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader.

Warnings: Mentions of drugging, grief, overall very emotional and dark theme.

Word Count: 3,398

Summary: Instead of destroying the darkhold, Wanda is captured by S.H.I.E.L.D and taken to the Raft prison where she undergoes a series of mental and physical torture. Under the influence of sedatives, she starts developing hallucinations that become so blurred in reality that she can no longer tell what’s real and what’s fake. So when you, her girlfriend who is presumed dead, appears inside her cell, causes Wanda to have a difficult time deciphering whether you are really there. Are you real or just another figment of her lonely imagination?

A/N: I can’t believe it took me just about a year to finally finish a piece of work! But here we are! I hope you like it, I hope it’s good & I hope you like them to pull at your heart strings hehe. And if you’d like some songs to go along with this just like I did with my fic, listen to the two songs that inspired this one shot: “Hallucinate” by The Devil Wears Prada and “Fever Dream” by Hurtwave! xx

————

The darkhold had infected Wanda’s body like an incurable virus. It flowed through her veins so cunningly, so quietly. As if it were sentient. It lurked in the corners of her bones, waiting for her to become too exhausted to fight it off. Until it enveloped her completely, until she wanted it ... until she wanted it to kill her.

So in the throes of her infection, Wanda reigned terror across anyone & anything that dared to get in her way. Her endless pits of depression remolded into tall mountains of rage. Her eyes were glazed over with evil’s cloak, her mind infected with it’s seductive spell and her veins intoxicated with the addictive elixir only wickedness could sell.

Eventually, there was no more Wanda. Only the vengeful Scarlet Witch.

If she couldn’t be happy, nobody could. And as her malevolence grew, so did her body count. She snapped superheroes in half like they were pencils, manipulated minds and distorted reality in any way that would satisfy and took innocent lives in the process.

It went on and on, until a moment of humanity breached through Wanda’s sick and poisoned mind. A moment where she finally got a glimpse of what she’d done, of the ones she’s lost and what they’d think of her now. Her vulnerable state was only a flash but it was long enough for S.H.E.I.L.D to finally reach her, after struggling for some time now, and take her into captivity.

The last thing she remembered was a pinch in her neck & the world going dark.

The silence rang through Wanda’s ears in the similar way it did when the bomb went off that peaceful night in Sokovia.

The incessant, mind numbing high pitched hum of loneliness's lullaby was the only sound she had heard since the last time one of the guards opened the door, dropped a tray of food and left. Even so, that eerie ringing was better than the voices in her head.

It had been quiet for so long. So long that she had no recollection of how much time had gone by since she was first placed here. All she knew was that she was in this dark cement room at the Raft prison and the only reason she even knew where she was was because she had been here before. Same song and dance of being kept under surveillance, sedated and trapped. When she first got here she noticed how cold it was, but now, she couldn’t feel anything anymore.

In the time that she had been here, the daily shots they administered to render her powers useless were taking their toll. Fighting through it got harder with each injection. They even went as far as to place a shock collar around her neck, just like they did before, like she was some kind of animal ... a beast. After all, the darkhold was, for all intents and purposes, a beast. It made her forget her good side, it made her a shell of who she used to be and it was determined to do everything to remain in control. It didn’t matter anymore how much she missed her old self, vengeance tasted too good and Wanda was unwilling to part with the one thing left that made her feel alive. Revenge.

So for god only knows how long, Wanda’s mind, body & soul were laced with a conflicting cocktail of tranquilizing liquids and stimulating magic. No amount of sedation could numb the ache yet it was efficient enough to keep her powers at bay.

It drove her mad. Writhing in pain as her mind switched back and forth between good and evil. Twitching like a television losing it’s signal. Every jerk, every scream, every violent urge... it was destroying her.

She was losing.

As the drugs penetrate into Wanda’s brain, slowly deteriorating whatever control she had left, she developed hallucinations. Her once physical battle now manifests mentally & it was getting harder & harder for her tell what was real & what was fake.

In these hallucinations, sometimes all of her horrors would mutate & create one terrifying scene that she couldn’t escape from. They preyed on her over & over again. Those moments were unbearable to the point she swore they would kill her. The pain, the guilt, the hopelessness, it was causing physiological symptoms.

She was in the depths of agony.

But other times, things weren’t always so bad. Some of the hallucinations brought her brief moments of peace and it was those moments that she believed kept her alive.

Precious moments would grace themselves into her lonely world. Visions of laughter, warmth and love. All the things she had forgotten.

She’d see home outside the one tiny window just below the ceiling. Gathering the strength to get up and look, she’d see her Sokovia in springtime. All the beauty it had to offer, including a young Wanda & Pietro running in the swaying meadows. She’d watch as the sun would kiss their skin so delicately that it felt like a comforting hug. The hallucinations were so real she could feel the warmth, smell the wildflowers and hear the sweet, tenor voice of her brother again.

Other days the barren room she withered away in would transform into her bedroom at the Avengers tower where she’d be laying contently on her bed. In the glow of a sunset afternoon, she’d turn her head and there you’d be, right next to her laughing along as you shared a memory. In these visions Wanda could never recall what the stories were about but it didn’t matter. Your mere presence was enough to pump the blood through her veins again. She just wished it could do the same for you. To bring you back to her so she didn’t have to watch you dissolve in the mist, slipping through her hands in the sunrise.

Wanda missed you so much.

You had died a year ago, caught in the crossfire of a senseless battle just like her brother. Except she was away on a mission, not there to protect you like she always promised. She didn’t get to say goodbye. And with the world only getting worse despite these battles for justice, you had died for nothing. Your death was her final straw and subsequently what lead her to the place she is now.

Wanda couldn’t let go of you. All the unfinished business and the moments you never got to have ate her alive. She needed you. Even when her mind was clear, she’d close her eyes & see you there. You always saw the good in her. You saw past her troubled mind to see the heart that ached to feel anything other than pain. Inside this powerful being was a little girl screaming for relief. A little girl who lost everything, and lost herself along the way. Even when she didn’t deserve it, you always stood by her. And now here she was, imprisoned for her unforgivable crimes. The same kind that took you from her.

You were the only thing that made me good, Wanda thought as she looked down to her blackened finger tips.

Completely overcome with grief, Wanda crumbled in misery, crying herself into exhaustion. With her head dropped down in front of her, her drowsy eyes began to flutter closed. Succumbing to the desire for rest, Wanda let her mind fly away.

“Wanda?” She heard your voice quiver from the corner of the room. “What happened to you?”

Wanda jolted at the sound & her eyes immediately searched for the angelic sound of your voice.

There you were, right here in front of her.

Wanda had enough hallucinations to make her lose count, and she had admittedly used her powers to mold you out of the mist before, but this was different. None of them were as real and as tangible as you are right now.

“Y/n?” Wanda’s voice cracked in awe. Her tear stained eyes traced over you feverishly, as if you’d disappear any second, just like you always did at the end of all her previous dreams.

You rushed over to Wanda’s weakened body with that familiar urge to protect her. Crouching down in front of her so you were at eye level, your eyes finally met after what felt like a million years.

Wanda immediately lifted her shaking hands to your face. Cupping it gently, as not to turn you back to dust. She brushed her thumbs across your cheek before running her fingers through your hair, pushing both sides behind your ears and stopping to cradle the back of your head. Her touch was as loving as it was inquisitive. She was in disbelief. In all her other hallucinations she could never feel you as solid matter the way she could now. She needed to feel your skin, to feel your bones, to ensure that you were in fact really here.

“You’re real” she whispered, bewildered. “How are you here? How did you get in here?” Wanda couldn’t understand. You were dead.

As Wanda’s infected mind wandered trying to solve this mystery, it dawned on her ... she wasn’t there when you supposedly died. She didn’t see it happen. What if Hydra had taken you the way they’d taken others? What if you were alive the whole time? A glimmer of hope had pumped it’s way through her veins, reviving her.

“Don’t worry about that now. Wanda, tell me what happened? What are you doing here?” You dodged her question, it was irrelevant in comparison to the Wanda you saw in front of you.

“I-”, feeling overwhelmed by reality of what she’d done once again, Wanda let out a sob, “I’m so sorry.” Her voice was weak & raspy from the lack of use.

“For what baby?” You pleaded. Your eyes scanned over her trying to make sense of it all.

Wanda looked thin, you thought, almost concave. Her skin was pale and her eyes were sunken and almost completely void of life. You noticed the collar and the track marks from needles on her skin and as you came to the realization, your body became weak.

“What are they doing to you?” you asked softly.

There was a pause while Wanda’s mind scrambled to take in this moment, while also debating whether to explain what she had done. Eventually, she did just that. She traced back every ugly act, desperate to try and release herself of the pain. You just sat there and listened.

“I didn’t mean to” Wanda begged. Her voice was tightening with emotion. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far.” You watched as the water flowed from her eyes like waterfalls. Her eyes were drawn to the floor in shame, causing you to fall apart with her.

Instinctually, you leaned forward onto your knees and whisked her into your arms, placing one hand around her body and the other to the back of her head, leading it into the crook of your neck.

“I know” you whispered to her comfortingly.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t astounded—disturbed even, by what Wanda shared with you. It was chilling and scary and completely uncharacteristic of the Wanda you fell in love with. Sure, Wanda had a dark side and she wasn’t perfect, but she wasn’t evil. She was just a little girl who lost her way. Ultimately, it didn’t matter what Wanda did, the longer you sat here watching her dissolve into nothing, made you unable to see her as anything other than the woman you knew ... incapable of seeing her as anything but your Wanda. You knew her, because she was a part of you. In this life and in every life. The two of you were connected so firmly that it was as if you were feeling every inch of her sorrow with her.

As Wanda’s tears subsided and her body regained stability, you separated yourself from her in order to look at her once again.

Wanda held on to your hands tightly, unwilling to let them leave her again. “I’m not a monster y/n.” she kept saying these things as if you ever thought differently.

“I know” you reassured her, brushing your hand lovingly against her cheek.

There was a slight pause before you spoke again, an idea coming to mind. “Come here.”

Lifting to your feet, you tugged Wanda’s hands upwards, signaling for her to follow your action. Wanda stood up, her eyes looking into yours and flickering back and forth with curiosity.

In another short pause, you stayed there looking into her eyes. You looked beyond their surface and noticed the way they flashed subtly between a Wanda green and a Scarlet red. It was as if two souls lived inside her and each one was fighting for dominance.

She was in complete inner turmoil. Powerless to the torture of her mind.

You couldn’t stand to see her like this, killing herself slowly.

“Show me “Wanda”” you finally spoke. If she was ever going to heal from this, she needed to find herself again.

And like a moth to a flame, Wanda did exactly as you asked. With alluring swirls of red, she brought life into this desolate room. Instead of waking nightmares, she formed wonders of beauty. A speckling of stars graced the ceiling and the ground turned from solid plaster to a soft bed of grass. A blanket appeared beneath both of your feet and in one swift movement, Wanda took your hand and laid you down beside her. In that moment, it was Wanda and you as you were before it all went bad. Before you disappeared from her world.

The sceneries continued to change. From a peaceful beachfront sunrise to a cozy autumn date. Where you talked and talked, never seeming to run out of things to share. From both of you cuddled in a chair at a Christmas party, watching the blizzard blow outside the window, to a night-in cooking dinner together. You laughed and laughed, until your stomach’s burned with such joyful pain.

Wanda was making up for lost time. Recreating all the things you had done and creating all the things that should’ve been. Wanda showed you her light, her humor, her chivalry, her heart. All the good she had lost. You wanted her to see that she still had her humanity. You wanted her to see that she didn’t die with the darkhold.

Then, Wanda took you to this abandoned ballroom in Sokovia. Back before the war, when her home still breathed with life.

Hand-in-hand, you both looked up and around at the elegance of Elizabethan Baroque architecture. Although run down and forgotten, it still beamed with a beauty you were in awe of. The interior was palace-like. White marble walls adorned with dainty patterns and detailed carvings. All housed within a ceiling so high it felt like a cathedral. Massive windows had been broken, leaving the room feeling like it was half enclosed, half outdoors. And as you walked through, your footsteps crunched over scattered rubble which echoed loudly with every step.

“I used to sneak away and come here when I was a kid.” Wanda told you as she watched the memories play out in front of her.

“Little mischievous Wanda” you laughed, poking fun at her rebellious ways starting so young. She chuckled back, unable to deny it.

“Why’d you come here?” You added, genuinely curious to know more about her younger self.

“I don’t know. I stumbled upon it one day. Even though it’s massive, it was tucked away in an area I rarely ventured out to. I snuck through the window one day and just kept coming back. It was my hideout.” There was a break in her answer as she continued to look around. “I liked the grandeur of it all. The silence. The way people and their moments used to exist here and now it’s just a symbol for the passage of time.” You knew exactly what she meant.

Wanda guided you to the center of the ballroom floor and wrapped her arms around your neck before the flick of her finger caused a gentle sway of notes to reverberate off these forsaken walls.

Rocking your body slowly, her eyes lingered on yours. In the same way you did with her, Wanda noticed something missing in your eyes. Existence. Like they were becoming see through. And with it, her rose colored veil begins to fall and a piece of her heart crumbling with it once again.

This may not have been completely a hallucination, but it wasn’t completely real either. The drugs had caused illusions similar to dreams but this... this was her own magical doing. She wasn’t sure how she did it but she figured her chaotic mind had made for chaos magic. That her desperation reached it’s peak and stretched her powers to a place they’d never gone before.

She continued, swallowing the lump that was beginning to form. “But I think now I see, it was the way that beauty still existed in it’s sorrow that made me love this place.” You wrapped your arms around her waist and rested your head against her chest, hugging her tightly, knowing this was bigger than the temple you danced in.

You felt her body deflate in your arms as she came to terms with something you didn’t know.

Then she spoke again.

“And how the dead still live in the air that we breathe.” her voice tightened. “they live on in the memories, in the energy of the places they once stood.”

“That they’re never really gone.” you finished for her. In that moment you started to feel funny. Your body felt phantom but your mind was still sharp and that’s when you too had realized that your job here was done. That this wasn’t “real” but instead, a temporary moment existing again. The pieces started fall into place. How you couldn’t remember why or how you were here. It’s because Wanda formed you from her agony, bringing you back to life, just for a moment.

Gradually, the setting you were in begins to disintegrate in thin air and you were back in Wanda’s lonesome cell.

Keeping your position, you both swayed slowly in a painful silence. Both aware of what comes next, but both unwilling to accept it quite yet.

“Is it peaceful in the afterlife?” Wanda asked, almost too quietly to hear, finally speaking her realization out loud. She yearned for some sort of solace.

“Not as peaceful without you.” You paused, trying to console yourself. “But it’s not your time baby.” But just like that, the tears were back and it felt hard to breathe. “You have to let it go. You have to let me go.”

Like a child latching on to their mother, Wanda manages to speak through her choked up state, “Let me go with you.” She knew you were right, that she had to let go of the guilt and at least try to fill endless chasm that came with losing you. She knew you were right about needing to let go of the darkhold so she could live again. But she would still rather be with you.

“I love you Wanda.” is all you could muster. You whispered it into her ear and then kissed her with an ache you can’t describe. It felt like floating, it felt like dying all over again, yet it felt like a first breath.

Wanda knew it was impossible. That no matter how powerful she was, she couldn’t be with you now. She knew that as always, you knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say. Even in the afterlife, you could save her.

She knew that she had to destroy the darkhold. No amount of black magic could make her right inside but there was a world of good that she could do with her gift. This world needed her good. You had always told her that.

“I’m here whenever you need me.” You said, taking one last look into her eyes and placing your hand above her heart to indicate where you’ll be in the meantime.

Placing a chaste kiss to her cheek, you whispered, “I’ll see you again, love.” before fading back into the place between.

————

Tag list: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @wandavisionmoot , @alexia-rmks, @impossibleliv1031

#elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x female reader #fanfic #one shot #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #marvel #mcu #dark #emotional #ghosts

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revengewitch · 6 months

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In the bustling city, Peter Parker is on the brink of a bright future, having secured a spot in one of the region's top universities.

However, when he shares the joyous news with his mentor and father figure, Tony Stark, an unexpected turn of events shrouds Peter's excitement in mystery.

An unforeseen illness linked to his spider DNA forces Peter into Mr. Stark's care, the man does everything he can to heal but Peter's condition just keeps getting worse.

#marvel #mcu #peter parker #tony stark #dark tony stark #peter parker whump #iron dad and spider son #iron dad #irondad and spiderson #spider son #one shot #fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own

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marvelsangels · 2 years

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Agent 06

Summary: Life in peace was what you had always wanted, but that doesn't seem possible with your line of work, especially since it requires killing important people. You were known to work alone, and you have just been asked to work with the most public superhero group out there. How will that go for you?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers x Reader (Y/N)

Title: Agent 06

PROLOGUE

A/N: I plan this to be a long series 💗 I hope you enjoy it! Also, for the gifs and images, I will keep adding those so that you guys have an idea of the visual of what I'm trying to put out there. also makes it more fun for me. :>

You stood in the steaming hot shower for almost an hour, just letting it seep through your blood-stained skin. That one was a hard kill, you thought to yourself.

Stepping out of the shower with the steam tailing behind you, you quickly wrapped yourself in a towel and headed towards the sink, where the big mirror was reflecting your slightly burned skin.

Was the water that hot?

You touched your cheeks and stared at yourself for a few more seconds before heading out of the bathroom to get dressed.

Dressed in a loose white tank and black thong, you headed towards the kitchen to prepare your latest kill.

Salem was already there waiting for you, or really, he was just waiting for you to cook food.

"Hey baby, what do you think you're doing up there?" You carried him by the stomach and brought him down the counter.

"You need to learn how to wait." You gave him a pat on the head and started working on the fish that you had caught.

This was your first big salmon catch and you like to think that it went well, though you don't think that its face should be smashed. The look gave you the ick. But in your defense, it was fighting back, and you had to jump in the water to bitch slap it.

After a long preparation and a loud impatient cat, you finally finished cooking and it looked very appetizing. Time to let the judge taste it.

"It's a little hot dear, you have to wait a bit." You crouched down to give Salem his plate and he looked pleased. He tried touching it with his paw and quickly regretted it. "Told you it was hot, didn't I?"

You were sat at your dining table, ready to have the first bite, but you were quickly interrupted by the loud knocking on your door. It was unusual for someone to knock at your door this late at night, or even at all. No one knew you in this town.

Salem was shocked himself and quickly hid in the corner of the room before going back and trying to drag his food with him. You helped him with his task and gestured for him to stay quiet.

You grabbed your fork and headed towards the door, where the person behind it knocked loudly again.

"Let go of whatever it is you're holding, it's just me." Said a familiar voice.

"What are you doing here? It's late. " You said it with a sigh as you opened the door.

"Duty calls." The one-eyed man invited himself in and sat at your dining table.

Hearing the familiar voice calmed Salem down and he headed towards him. Meow "Hey little guy, how are you?" He asked as Salem jumped onto his lap.

You stood there looking at him, clearly unpleased with his unannounced visit. He noticed this and gestured for you to sit down with him.

You did as he asked and groaned slightly at his sudden arrival. "You know, I'm on break, Fury, whatever it is that you want done. Just ask someone else to do it."

"You know, I would if I could, but no one is willing to do it because it might cost them their life." He said as he petted Salem.

"And you assume I wouldn't think the same?" He just gave you an are you fucking kidding me look, and you just rolled your eyes at his silent response.

You sighed. "What is it?" He smiled and placed Salem down and gestured for you to give him what you prepared earlier. Getting up to get him a plate and utensils, he started to explain what the mission was.

"Is that all?" You asked. "You will be working with the Avengers." He replied. You sighed; he is well aware that you work alone.

"Fury, they're public heroes, and I'm a private assassin. How do you think that makes me feel?"

"This is delicious, by the way." You nodded, knowing full well that it is. It's one of your many talents. Thank you very much.

"You don't have to be seen with them; you just have to work with them. You do the dirty work, and they do the hero public stuff." He replied matter-of-factly.

You stared at him for a few moments before agreeing. "When do I leave?"

"Tomorrow morning, Head to the compound. There will be a room set up for you there and you can meet everyone that you will be working with."

Angel 💜

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shambelle97 · 1 year

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Recuperare lo Scettro della Mente all’interno dell’HYDRA si era rivelato nientemeno che il prezzo da pagare per la salvaguardia dell’intera umanità.

Dopo aver ricavato la pericolosa intelligenza artificiale situata dentro il manufatto, Ultron non avrebbe perso l’occasione propizia per ricreare un mondo a sua immagine e somiglianza.

Riuscirono ad intercettarlo nei pressi di un magazzino alle prese con un noto trafficante d’armi.

In preda ad uno scatto d’ira, Ulysses Klaue rovinò giù dalle scale a causa dell’amputazione al braccio sinistro.

Detestava essere paragonato all’illustre miliardario.

“Figlio mio! Vuoi rompere il nostro legame?”

Proferì Stark in tono sarcastico.

“Se proprio devo...”

L’androide lasciò la frase a mezz’aria per via della replica espressa dal Dio del Tuono.

“Nessuno romperà niente.”

Fu un intervento deciso il suo: tuttavia Ultron fu lesto a ribattere alle sue parole.

“Non c'è frittata se non rompi le uova!”

Esclamò enfatico l'avversario.

“Mi hai tolto le parole di bocca.”

Aggiunse stupefatto l'inventore, quasi basito in verità.

“Ahhh molto spiritoso, Signor Stark: si sente a casa, qui?”

Esordì sarcasticamente Pietro Maximoff in compagnia della gemella.

Il giovane dalla chioma argentea alluse al suo passato in maniera disarmante, venendo corretto dallo stesso robot.

“Siete ancora in tempo per ripensarci.”

Avvisò Captain America, non affatto desideroso di inutili spargimenti di sangue.

“Oh, lo faremo.”

Proclamò ironica la strega, serrando le labbra.

“So che avete sofferto.”

Riprese Steve Rogers, dichiarando di essere a conoscenza dei terribili trascorsi riguardanti i due fratelli.

“Ahahahah, Captain America! L'uomo giusto del Signore che finge di poter vivere senza guerra.”

Constatò divertito l'essere cibernetico, denotandone l'amarezza.

“Purtroppo non posso fisicamente vomitare, ma...”

Egli venne interrotto prontamente dal Signore dei Fulmini.

“Se credi nella pace, allora manteniamola.”

Ribatté ovvio, guardandolo dritto nelle iridi meccaniche.

“Credo che tu stia confondendo pace con calma.”

Suppose il nemico nel frattempo.

“A che serve il Vibranio?”

Domandò Stark, curioso di conoscere il valido motivo per servirsene.

“Sono contento che me l'abbia chiesto, coglierò l'occasione per spiegare il mio piano malvagio.”

Fu allora che lo scontro ebbe inizio, spingendo Ultron a passare alle maniere forti.

Wanda entrò in gioco, abbassando le loro difese sia a livello fisico che mentale.

L'energia scarlatta li avvolse interamente, alterandone la realtà.

Thor credette di essere immune al suo incantesimo, finché l'edificio non lasciò spazio a delle sfarzose mura dorate a lui familiari.

Dinnanzi al Tonante si allestì un banchetto in cui era solito dilettarsi quando conduceva una vita ricca di agi e lodi.

La sala era gremita di gente, intenta a danzare a ritmo d'orchestra.

Pervaso dall'angoscia, il primogenito di Odino percorse ogni angolo del ricevimento con circospezione.

In lontananza una figura incappucciata proseguiva docile ed elegante, guadagnandone inconsciamente l'attenzione.

Si ritrovò ad osservarla guardingo, notando un'aria familiare nei movimenti.

Era intenzionato a raggiungerla, fin quando la voce di Heimdall non gli impedì di eseguire l'azione.

Avanzò verso l'erede al trono, denotando uno sguardo minaccioso nelle pupille vitree e spente.

Gli afferrò il collo, minacciandolo di aver condannato Asgard all'eterna dannazione.

Liberarsi dalla sua presa fu un arduo ostacolo da superare, costringendo il Dio a lederlo dolorosamente.

Fuggì dalla sua presenza, alla ricerca del misterioso individuo dal manto nero.

Comprese di essere intrappolato in una visione distorta, constatando che l'unica via d'uscita fosse quella di dialogare con l'oscuro spettro.

Avvertiva l'assoluto bisogno di ricevere informazioni.

Quest'ultimo gli si stagliò davanti non lasciandogli alcun scampo.

Nella bocca sottile si increspò un sorrisetto sardonico e crudele.

“Ti consiglio vivamente di rivelarti a me.”

Suggerì ostile, assumendo la posizione di difesa.

L'uomo obbedì silente, rimuovendo il cappuccio.

Il Dio dell'Inganno rivelò il proprio volto, ghignando maleficamente.

“Come ci si sente ad essere in trappola, figlio di Odino? Come ci si sente ad essere impotenti?”

Incalzò gelido con una nota di scherno nella vocalità.

Thor gli riserbò un paio di occhiate perplesse e afflitte, evitando di rispondere.

“Hai osato scaraventarmi in un baratro colmo di follia e disperazione. Per tutto questo tempo hai creduto di essere nel giusto, venendo ricoperto da false lodi e lusinghe.”

Sentenziò lievemente rabbioso, manifestando un'invidia repressa nei suoi confronti.

Le iridi smeraldine erano madide di odio e rancore.

“Sono consapevole di aver sbagliato, ma posso rimediare agli errori commessi.”

Tentò di spiegarsi, ricevendo nient'altro che sguardi impassibili e freddi.

Rammentava tuttora la sua morte per mano di Malekith, avvenuta due anni or sono...uno straziante dolore, seguito da estenuanti sensi di colpa.

“Sono cresciuto nel mio più completo esilio, esercitando un vasto potere...qualcosa che neppure le menti più brillanti possono comprendere fino in fondo.”

Illustrò vago, lasciando intuire che non riguardasse solo l'uso del Tesseract.

“E tu hai rovinato la mia gloriosa ascesa, infischiandotene delle conseguenze.”

Ringhiò maligno e al contempo furente, inglobando il fratellastro tramite il Seiðr.

L'energia verde avvolse il suo corpo, sollevandolo in aria.

“F...fratello...”

Provò a pronunciare, rischiando di rimanere a corto di ossigeno.

La magica e opprimente morsa scaturita da Lingua D'Argento permise al Padrone delle Saette di captare alcuni segnali di vitale importanza.

Senza dubbio una minaccia più grande si ergeva all'orizzonte, bramosa di assoluto e smisurato potere.

Venne colto da una nuova visione raffigurante una gemma d'oro, sovrapposta ad altre dalle differenti tonalità.

Un rapido flash da sconvolgerlo totalmente.

Incanalò le varie scariche di fulmini, riuscendo infine a liberarsi del fantasma.

Era come se la proiezione gli avesse illuminato la mente, esponendo un disegno non ancora ben delineato.

Il giorno successivo avrebbe temporaneamente abbandonato la squadra per indagare più a fondo sulla questione.

Era in cerca di risposte, desideroso di vederci chiaro.

Inoltre non poté far a meno di riflettere sulle terribili frasi rivoltegli dal minore, a cominciare dai riferimenti alla Battaglia di New York.

Come se Loki e quegli artefatti fossero legati da un unico filo conduttore.

Si sedette sopra l'apposito sedile, chiudendo gli occhi.

Tale faccenda ebbe modo di sconvolgerlo.

Neutralizzare Ultron e le sue giovani reclute avrebbe richiesto un necessario recupero delle energie, riordinandone le rispettive idee.

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐞

One shot:

~ Dreams And Shadows ~

Name chapter:

~ Dark Visions ~

#thor #loki #mcu thor #mcu loki #god of thunder #god of mischief #dark visions #one shot #wattpad #wattpad italy #avengers age of ultron #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction #avengers #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #ultron #heimdall

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

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Appetite for Destruction

Warnings: noncon, trickery, darkness in general, size kink, you know how it goes.

Summary: Steve Rogers asks you for a favour. (short reader)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Note: I wanted to write touch starved Bucky so I busted this out real quick. All and any feedback is always welcome. Please take care of yourself <3

🖤🖤🖤

When the Steve Rogers came to you and said he needed your help, you couldn't think of how to say no. Nor could you guess how he even knew of your existence. Another cog in the machine of the compound, your significance ends where the next person starts. A lowly administrative rat running on the wheel of eternal documents.

But he knew your name and he claimed you could do him a favour. Captain America giving you a mission you can hardly deny. He does not say what, you assume the same confidentiality that keeps so man lips sealed in those hallways. He only asks that you meet him after work, that you go with him to some undisclosed location. You truly feel like some covert spy, though you still wear the appearance of the mousy office minion.

You're nervous. You flick the corner of your subway pass, wondering if this is some cruel joke, an unexpected act of trickery from the noble patriot. You chew your lip as you stand in the underground parking lot, watching the minutes tick by as you resign yourself to catching the later train.

"Hey," his voice chases away your doubt and you turn to watch Steve approach. He zips up his jacket, the high collar nearly touching his chin as he smiles at you, "you came?"

"So did you," you bounce on your feet anxiously, "I... if I'm being honest, I didn't believe you, you know? Wouldn't be the first time I fell for some joke."

"Joke?" His face grows grim, "no, I wouldn't-- wait, who--"

"It's fine, it didn't hurt anyone," you tuck your hands into your sleeves and shiver, it's cold in the empty lot.

"You okay?" he asks. "Yeah, yeah, it's just chilly," you say. "Oh, uh... I wouldn't know," his mouth slants, "side effect from being... me."

"Really? I never thought of that."

"No one does," he chuckles, "anyway, we should get going."

"Um, okay, but uh, er..." you stumble to follow as he turns away, "can I know where?"

Your short legs take two steps to each one of his long strides. You feel ridiculous small next to him, not that you've ever felt big in your life.

"I can't really say, not here," he keeps his eyes ahead of him, "somewhere secure, though."

"Alright, I'm just a bit... confused."

"It's not really something I can explain, you have to see it."

"Ah," you stop at the trunk of a silver car as he goes around the driver's side, "can I at least know why it has to be me?"

He looks at you over the roof, his blue eyes burning in the fluorescent shadows of the underground, "because you're the only one here uncorrupted."

"What does that mean?"

"Please, get in," he glances over you and you follow his gaze to the camera mounted on the cement pillar, "promise, in due time. You trust me, don't you?"

"Of course, you're Cap."

He gives a weak smile and nods to the car, "exactly."

🖤

Past the urban skyline of the city, your nerves begin to mount, peaking in a flurry of fear. Your inner dialogue swings between panic and reassurance of the presence next to you. Steve's a hero, a good guy, you're just helping him out. That's an honour you could never imagine.

The sky darkens, an hour passes, then two, well outside the bound of New York City. You see the moon and chew your thumb as you lean into the door, resisting the urge to doze. You peek over at him, his large hand on the wheel as he watches the road.

He slows and flips the blinkers next to a gravelly road that leads into the dark huddle firs. You sit up curiously as he turns and you try to see past the shadows, the headlights offering two yellow orbs to guide his path.

"This is pretty far out," you say, "I don't expect I'm getting home anytime soon."

He looks at you and says nothing. You squirm uneasily in your seat. His silence worries you. He was talkative at first, he asked about your work, you thought he would've known. Then your hobbies and he mentioned how he just started painting again. But once you left the city, he stopped talking.

"Steve, are you okay?"

"Call me captain," he corrects bluntly.

You wince but repeat the title softly. A hum rolls in his throat as he follows the unruly curve of the path, the trees leaning together and hiding the sky. You wring your hands. It can't be what your brain keeps saying.

Steve Rogers is a good guy. He has to be.

There's no going back…

Your heart drops to your stomach as he pulls into a small clearing, the silhouette of an unlit structure at the centre. You squint as the line of the cabin are barely discernable from the dark foliage beyond.

"What is this place?"

"Somewhere secret. Safe. They can't find us here."

"Who?" you ask in half a whisper.

"Get out," he says as he kills the engine and pushes open the door.

"What?"

"Stop with the questions, okay?" he snaps, his abrupt shift in demeanour startles you.

"Steve," you don't move as he slams his door. Your heart races as you start to shake.

You just won't believe it. He wouldn't lie to you. He's just being safe. You reach for the handle but the door opens before you can push it wide. You unbuckle your seat belt as he grabs your arm and hauls you out.

The door snaps behind you and he drags you with him, your shoes scuffing in the dirt. His grip is impatient and impenetrable. You whimper as it only grows tighter and tighter the closer you get to the house.

He shoves you up the steps of the front porch ahead of him and you trip at the top, hitting your knees on the wood.

"Steve," you whine in confusion.

"You said you'd do a favour for me," he snarls as he lifts you up and swings you towards the door, ripping back the screen with a high squeak, "for your captain."

"What is this? Why am I here?"

"If you're stupid enough to get this far, it means you need me. You can't keep yourself safe."

"I-- ow, you're hurting me," he urges you through the thicker door and you enter the blackness of the house.

There's a click, then a crackle, and a sconce that looks like a candlestick, lights up against the panel wall. He lets you go and you turn to face him. You blink as Steve shuts the door and twists the latch.

"Are you going to kill me?" you murmur.

He scoffs and shakes his head, "what use are you dead?"

You don't know how to answer that so you don't. You hug yourself as he points you deeper into the house, a walnut staircase against the wall and a hallway next to it leading to another dark doorway. He follows you, shepherding you in as he turns to the closet and opens it.

"You'll have to change."

"Change? I'm scared, please tell me what's going on," you beg as your eyes sting.

He takes out a dress, white flowers on vines, printed on gem green. Outdated and cut to the calf. He looks at you sternly.

"Let's get something straight, when I give you and order, you say 'yes, Captain,' do you understand me?"

Your eyes round as tears wobble along the lower lids, "yes, captain," you gulp.

"Good," he holds out the hanger, "hurry up."

You take the dress and look around, "here?"

"I said no more questions," he bends his knees and reaches for the rack on the floor of the closet, he pulls out heels and places them before you, "yes, here."

"Oh," you shake in fear and look down at the dress. You don't know what else to do but obey. He's stronger than you and you don't have a hope in the world of doing anything but getting lost in the woods.

He pushes the dress down and rips open your coat, the button flies off and hits the wall, rolling loudly across the floor.

"Do I gotta do it for you?"

You shake your head and he drops his hand. You shudder and turn, setting the dress on the small square table against the wall, and shrug out of your jacket. He tears it from your grasp and you pull your blouse over your head next. He takes that too and you hand off the last few pieces of clothing as you undress.

You peek up at him as you unhook the dress from the hanger. He watches you but you can't read his face. You put the dress on and step into the heels, bending to buckle the straps. He turns you as you stand and ties the thin string at the back, cinching the waist.

"Alright, upstairs," he commands, "on the double."

You nearly fall again as you hurry forward. You grab the railing to keep upright on your trembling legs. Your tears begin to fall as you get higher and higher, turning the corner and taking the last few steps to the top.

"Stop that," he comes up beside you, turning you to face him as he roughly wipes away your tears, "no crying. Got it?"

"Yes, captain," you sniffle and wipe your nose, "I'm sorry..."

Your apology hangs between you. You don't know why you said it but it seems to calm him.

"Come on," he grips your elbow and leads you down the hall to the last door on the right.

He pauses and lets out a long breath. You look at him again. Is he afraid? What the hell?

"St-- Captain, what is it?" you whisper.

"Just... I hope it works," he says, more to himself than you, and opens the door.

The lights are on, you wonder how you couldn't see them from outside. The bedroom is cozy despite the frightening mystery of your presence. The knots in the boards of the oaken wall add to the rustic feel with the plaid blanket across the four-post bed, and the red rug spread beneath it. The room is tinted amber with the aged glass of the crystal shades.

A man sits in the tall armchair in the corner, spinning a knife in his hand. His fingers are shiny like metal. They are metal. Your lips part. He's supposed to be dead.

"Bucky," Steve says softly but the man does not peer up, he just watches the knife, "Barnes." Steve barks.

He look up, scowling at Steve then flinching as he sees you. The tension eases from him and turns to curiosity. The blade continues to flip and spin. His eyes flit up to Steve with an unspoken question.

"Yes," Steve answers it, "she's yours."

He stops the knife. He admires the blade and holds it up, folding it and setting it on the round table beside him. Steve moves past you and retrieves it, slipping it in his back pocket.

"Sweetheart," he waves you forward, "this is Bucky."

"I..." you croak, nearly vibrating in horror.

"Come say hi," Steve's voice deepens as he nears and nudges you, lowering his tone as he bends to whisper to you, "be nice. For your own good."

Steve sighs and stands against the far wall, arms crossed. You peek back at him before you go to Bucky who watches you intently yet shyly. His lashes lower as you get close. You say hello and offer your name. His cheek twitches.

You wait. He doesn't speak. He keeps his gaze down and you just stand there. You turn to ask Steve what you did but the metal hand closes around your own, drawing you back.

"He wants you to sit," Steve says.

You frown and look down, his real hand rubbing his thick thigh. You stare, stomach bubbling. You turn and carefully lower yourself into his lap. His fingers flutter up the skirt, feeling the fabric, curious, eager as he takes in the dress. He leans forward and smells the sleeve as you try to make yourself as small as you can.

"You can touch him," Steve intones, "he needs it."

"I-- S... Captain--"

"You're here for him, not me, this isn't a conversation," he girds and points to Bucky.

You turn back to Bucky. He watches you with sparkling eyes, blue like the oceans, endless and terrifying. You raise your hand shakily, hesitantly reaching out. His cheek meets your palm as suddenly he leans into it. You resist snatching it away and watch him.

You let your thumb run over his cheekbone and he growls. His hand slips up your arm, tickling your skin, and brushing over the sleeve, then back down. He guides your hand along his jaw and down his neck. He pushes it against his broad chest and holds it there to feel his heart.

"Doll," he utters, a guttural and gritty word.

You bat your lashes to keep from crying. You shake as he lifts your hand and kisses your knuckles, then guides your fingers to comb through his hair. He takes your other and adds it to his thick tresses, rolling his head like a desperate animal, frantic for your touch.

"He's not very talkative," Steve warns, "that's the first word I've heard him say in months."

You blink and a tear rolls out. Bucky's too entranced to notice. He frames your hands around his jaw and purrs.

"Give him a kiss," Steve orders.

You bite down and swallow. Cautiously, you lean in and press your lips to his. He gasps as his lips fall open. He squeezes your hands and growls into your mouth, his tongue meeting yours hungrily. That scares you and you try to pull away.

He releases your hands and grips your head, forcing your mouth to his as he devours you. You babble but don't resist, his fingertips poking harshly into your scalp.

Fear roils in your stomach, paralysing you as a tingling hollowness fills your limbs. You feel every ounce of his desire, his need, his animalistic lust. Your tears streak down, unnoticed upon his cheeks.

His hand slips down, the other still stretched across your skull as he keeps you stuck to him. He hooks his inhuman arm beneath your legs, lifting you as he rises without effort. His strength adds to the terror pulsing through you.

He carries you blindly across the room, even steps contrasting his frantic kisses. He lays you and climbs over you, barely parting before his lips smother yours once more.

He traces the line of your temple and down your cheek, he curls his fingers around your throat but does nothing more than feel the vulnerability nestled there. Further, he gropes you through the dress, kneading your chest, tickling your stomach, tugging up the skirt to delve beneath, as if it's all so new and exciting, yet so decisively knowing of what he wants.

He groans as his lips slip down your cheek, rocking his pelvis between your legs as if he were already impaled on you. A scattering of nerves speckle across your flesh and have you breathless. The futility, the sheer weakness, has you jittering, with nothing to do but whimper and weep at his violent and mute demand.

He pushes up your skirt, laying his weight down on you as he keeps your legs splayed. You gasp as his hand trails back up and he hooks his metal digits in the vee of the dress, tearing it to your stomach to reveal the beige bra beneath.

He bows to nipple sharply, tasting you, toying with you as he pulls back the cup, suckling as he rolls his thumb over your other sensitive bud.

You turn your head away, your eyes meeting Steve's as he watches. Unaffected, arm's crossed, he observes the attack. The sacrifice he's made of you.

You squeal as suddenly fingers press against the fabric taut across your cunt. Bucky rubs you roughly through the cotton, so hard it hurts as you feel him quaking with the receding of his tenuous control. He slides your panties aside, dipping against your flesh, teasing you dryly as your horror wets your face.

He growls and nuzzles your neck, shifting as he plants his knees, his hand retracting to pull desperately at the black jeans around his hips. He snarls and bites you in frustration as he struggles to pop the button of his fly, pushing down the zipper gruffly. He wiggles, clumsily free himself from the denim.

He lifts your leg, groping the soft flesh of your thigh as he angles against you. You sniff loudly, sobbing at the inevitable penetration, the inescapable intrusion. You close your eyes and sink your nails into his shoulder, clutching his flannel shirt as he pokes at your entrance.

He tilts until he stretches you, gasp against your cheek as he invades your warmth. You grit your teeth, your walls constricting in defense, unable to keep him at bay. He jerks his hips and you cry out as he forces in another inch.

He pulls your leg higher and crashes his mouth into yours again. You sob as he leans into you, toppling the last of your resistance as he buries himself completely.

You fling out an arm, clawing at the bed as he thrusts. Slow and careful but painful. His lips move against yours, coaxing you poorly as agony radiates through your muscles. Your tears fall freely, chest heaving as you succumb to his need.

He hushes you as he looks down at you. His blue eyes sparkle as he cradles your face, still fucking you, petting you as he tries to ease you. Your confusion, surprise, and despair will not let you calm.

His brow furrow, upset by your incessant crying as he tries to wipe the tears asay with his thumb. You shake your head to ward him off and he growls, slapping his palm down on the bed.

He rams into you and you scream. He does it again, anger lacing his hunger. He ruts into you, slaps of flesh punctuating each stroke and rattling your bone. You whine and wail as his pace grows furious and frantic.

You gasp and gulp, pelvis aching, ready to shatter as he gives in to his carnal instincts. You squeeze the cold metal of his arm as your other and clings to the quilt beneath, biting your tongue to swallow the pain.

He grunts, louder and louder, harder, faster, deeper, until you’re dizzy and limp. Broken, battered, bruised, you can only let him take what he wants.

With a final hard thrust that ripples up your spine, he snarls and floods you with his climax. He spasms as he cums and slows, huffing and hiss until he's still, impaled to his limit, pinning you beneath his weight ad you twitch and tremble.

He takes a long breath and his nose presses to your cheek, "all mine, doll."

Steve clicks his tongue and sighs. You open your eyes and peek over at him, panting weakly beneath Bucky as he kisses your temple.

"I should warn you, he has a thing for pretty faces," Steve remarks, "gets a bit clingy, you know?"

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #winter soldier #captain america #mcu #marvel #one shot #fic #dark fic #dark!fic

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