Bad Dream - Three

Bad Dream  -  Three

Pairing: Dark!Steve X Reader

Summary: A year after wiping your memory and keeping you for himself, Steve Rogers is happy. Happier than he’s ever been. With you and your daughter, life couldn’t be any better. The only problem? You’re starting to remember things.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Manipulation

Word Count: 1.3K

A/n: I’m back. My computer battery is fried so it’s a slow piece of shit. I’m gonna try to update all my stories soon…ish. I’m gonna add tags later

!!!THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!!!

MADNESS MASTERLIST EDITED POORLY! BAD DREAM MASTERLIST

~*~

“Alright honey. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” You nod, pushing yourself up onto your toes and kissing him gently on the lips.

“We’ll miss you,” you whisper, glancing down to where Sarah is lying asleep in his arms. “I’ll miss you guys too. But I’ll be back before you know it. And then I think I’m gonna take you on a little trip. Bucky’s setting it up for us.”

You get reminded to last night when he was on the phone with his friend, talking about ‘fixing’ you.

His words echo in your mind, terrifying and confusing you at the same time.

“What about Sarah?” You ask softly, gently smoothing your finger of her soft cheek.

“We’ll bring her. But I want to have a few days of privacy. Just you and me. And maybe… maybe I’ll put another baby in you. How’s that sound?” His eyes are hard, watching your every move.

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Catch Me (Day 7)

Summary: In which a bet leads Bucky to have to catch you every day for a week, no matter what.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,633

A/N: I’m sorry for taking so long to update. I had family and school things to attend to but here it is! The final part of Catch Me - I hope you guys enjoy it and thank you to everyone who reblogged/liked/commented on any part of this story. I adore each and every one of you.

@avengerstories​ - thank you for editing this you queen :)

Day 6

“We’re all needed for this mission,” Steve states from the front of the conference room. His lips are set in a straight line and there are no hints of the smile he was wearing only half an hour earlier when the two of you were eating lunch together. It goes to show that something as seemingly insignificant as a ten-minute phone call can change everything.

“What is it this time?”

“Infiltration.” Steve hesitates before adding, “Of a HYDRA base.”

Bucky who, for the first time ever, voluntarily chose to sit next to you for this meeting, clenches his fists under the table.

“Even me?” Bruce questions, stealing your attention away from HYDRA’s former golden boy. He’s fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater and you wish you could offer him some kind of comfort. You know how opposed he is to becoming the big, green monster unless it’s absolutely necessary.

“We’re only going to need your medical expertise for this one Doc.”

“Oh thank god.” Bruce sinks back in his seat and relief floods through you. At least someone is guaranteed to come out of this mission unscathed.

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The Recruit (5/?)

Summary: Becoming a SHIELD agent had been your dream and finally, you’ve achieved it. You’re at the top of your class in every field except one—hand to hand combat, and it doesn’t impress Captain Rogers in the slightest. Instead, it seems to convince him you’re useless, setting off a tense relationship between the two of you. In an effort to bridge the gap, Bucky offers to help you train to earn your way back into Steve’s good graces. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes (not Stucky)

Warnings: Probably some incorrect fight-speak.

Notes: Yikes, I’m sorry for the wait on this. The holidays thoroughly kicked by ass, but now that they’re over, I should be back to regularly updating! Enjoy. x

Training begins the day the cast comes off your wrist. An exact two weeks later, and Bucky’s pounding on your door at four AM, hair tied back and biceps - both flesh and gleaming black metal - on full display in his compression tank. Coupled with your sleepiness and just how unfairly attractive he is, your brain short-circuits for a minute when you first open the door.

“Up and at ‘em,” he orders, every bit the Sergeant you’d read about.

“Huh?” you reply dumbly, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

“Time for training, rookie.” The gleam in his eye lets you know he’s teasing, but still his face remains stoic. You glance over your shoulder.

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It’s my personal headcanon that chaoticdumbass!reader pulls a jake peralta when interrogating difficult hydra operatives by playing the guitar and screeching at them. She prefaces it by telling them she’s had two 5 hour energy shots and gives zero fucks as to how long it’s gonna take. The field where she grows her fucks is BARREN.

YOU WANT IT, YOU GOT IT.

-

The metal door crashes open, rattling the steel cage of the room. You spin in—triple axel with no clear trajectory—and barely stick the landing.

Handcuffed to the reinforced table is Someguy Whatshisface. A Hydra waterboy or something.

“Close the door.” The intercom buzzes with Steve’s voice. Two-way glass and all, this guy’s gone through the ringer with Natasha and she got fuck-all. Bucky already pulled out the cyanide capsule embedded in his incisor, so…

Now it’s your turn.

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“Is that right? You didn’t mean to watch me like a little pervert?” he speaks in faux apology, the façade eviscerated as his attention flickers to where your dress is ruffled and there’s a glistening trailing down your inner thighs. The man you known to be your best friend’s happy-go-lucky father has been unhinged into a beast of carnal hunger as a result of you. “Is that why you’re making a mess on my floor?” His jaw ticks. “No, you enjoyed it. You enjoyed watching me jack off, wondering if it’d be even half as good as being buried inside you—but we both know it isn’t.”

part one of two. in which you watch your best friend’s father masturbate, and he catches you. (includes best friend’s father!bucky x you, age gap mention, masturbation, voyeurism and exhibitionsm, dirty talk, blowjob—part two will include daddy kink by request of kat @angel-fire, reader receiving oral, size kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex.)

—

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you to stay in tonight?” your best friend’s father, James call-me-Bucky Barnes, calls out when he hears the click of heels descending down the staircase, and silences the rumble of his mixer. “I mean, what sounds better, some stupid nightclub or my super awesome brownies?” 

“Some stupid night club,” his daughter answers immediately with a cheeky grin, sashaying ahead of you in a modest but flirty outfit to grab her clutch from the kitchen island. The last thing she needed to go out acquired, she glances at you for additional support in the evening plan. “Right?” 

Strolling behind her, you give an unsure hum. “I don’t know,” you say with an upturn at a corner of your lips. “Your daddy’s baking is pretty convincing.” 

Sinful in a stained apron and chocolate smeared on a high cheekbone, a likewise dripping whisk in one hand, he turns around to face you. His innately affable blue eyes are bright with flattery until landing on your scantily-clad form, then the initial shock darkens to something that lances satisfaction in your gut. 

But he hides fairly quickly, dissolving back into his easy going demeanor (you know, like he isn’t imaging that tiny dress in a puddle around your ankles). He clears his throat with a reinforced smile. “See! Thank you,” he addresses graciously before hastening to divert his gaze. “C’mere, and taste it, kid. Then tell me you’d rather go out.” 

The twenty-one-year-old chuckles at the lame attempt and shakes her head. “No, thanks, dad,” she speaks as she checks her things and ruffles through to ensure she’s got her phone charger, pepper spray and condoms. When it turns out she does, the bag clips close with a clink. “I’m sure you’ll have a great time by yourself,” she says absentmindedly before heading into the den for her car keys.

“Could I, Mr. Barnes?” you ask innocently with a step forward, blinking up at him. 

Seemingly no longer unaffected by the jut of your chest in a black halter top, he regards you warmly. “Of course!” He beckons you over and picks up a wooden spoon to dip into the concoction; in the process, he spills a drop on his opposing thumb, but he pays it no mind. A sample on the spoon, he offers it to you with a beam. “And, you don’t have to be so formal. Call me—”

Instead of taking the utensil, your hand curls around his and pulls down, cutting him off when your lips wrap around his thumb. Doe-eyes locked on his, you sink low to the webbing as your cheeks hollow. Rich sugar explodes on your tongue, invoking a soft moan that has his pupils dilating black. 

Oh, God, you think with a shiver down your spine. 

The look on his face is unlike what you’ve witnessed in the wholesome thirty-nine year old. It’s hungry and desire ridden like his next course of action is to hike up your dress and bend you over the counter; like he’s willing to risk it all to see if the treat between your legs is as sweet as his baking. 

You finally ease off him with a soft pop, lashes fluttering with a barely suppressed smile. “That is really good,” you murmur mischievously, and for added effect, you trail your finger down his chest, through two layers of cloth to feel the hard muscle beneath. “If it were up to me, I’d spend the night with you.” 

Before he can react, a call rips through your interaction: “Yo, let’s go!” his daughter sing songs from the foyer. “Time is wasting, and I would like to get on the dance floor while the night is still young, thank you very much!” 

Disappointment deflates your shoulders as you backpedal. “Have a good night, Mr. Barnes,” you intend to part with: you spin to follow out, but your wrist is caught, tugged firmly so you stumble into his strong embrace with a small squeak. “Mr. Barnes—!”

Two big hands steady you roughly, and he’s flushed you against him. Then he slides down your backside to knead your ass, pawing at you through the soft fabric. His fingers crudely squeeze your cheeks; his pads dig in low and spread, rasping over your puckered rosebud repetitively until he’s dwindled you into a gasping mess. “F - fuck,” he breathes in a borderline growl, jaw clenching as you shudder against him and the sensations deluging you. 

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If you're in the mood for a Geralt fic, can ya please write an angsty smutty one where Geralt has a hugeass fight with the reader and they have make up sex???? Its completely okay if you're not taking requests (CUZ I CANT FIND ANY GERALT FIC AND IM SAD)

Anything for you my love

Aight

So I’m thinking you were mad at Geralt because here you were, falling for him undoubtedly

And yet, each time you confessed your feelings to him, he told you that it was all in your head

Or that he wasn’t someone one should love. Or that he cannot be the one for you because of his reputation

Yet, he would visit you a lot.

He’d fuck you like he owned you…for hours.

But then, he’d never stay till the morning.

Each morning you’d wake up in an empty in your family home, an empty space beside you.

You’d wake up to find that he’s long gone for the day; fighting monster and what not.

You’d long and whine for him all day, trying to get a grip on your emotions and trying to convince yourself that no, maybe it’s not love but something else

Yet each night when he’d come back and sneak into your room; he would remind you that you indeed loved him.

And each time, your heart would break a little, knowing that the man you loved was never going to love you back.

Ever

So you tried to get over him.

Once, after a heated fight, he left for a couple of days; and no one knew where he went or when he was going to come back

You two had fought over the nature of your relationship. And in the heat of the moment, he had very angrily told you that you were nothing but a means to let out his stress and frustration

Needless to say, you were heartbroken

And you tried to get over him while he was gone

Tried

You’d actually replied to other men when they talked to you

You’d say yes to dining with whichever Knights came to ask your father for permission to court you

Yet none ever compared to the white-haired Witcher you loved so much.

None of their kisses were as electrifying as Geralt’s.

But in order to save yourself the heartache, you had to get over him. And you acted like you had

Until…

The day Geralt came back.

And he didn’t know he hated seeing another man touching you until he found you roaming around with one of the Knights from the neighboring kingdom.

You were hand in hand, and Geralt watched from afar as the blond man caressed your face and stole a few kisses.

What hurt Geralt the most was that you kissed the man back

Geralt didn’t know his heart could beat so fast, he didn’t know jealousy could course through his veins with such intensity.

He didn’t know, until now, that he felt so strongly towards you.

But as of now, he was jealous and angry more than anything.

And he decided to wait until night time. For in the dark of the night no one would see him sneak into your room.

He waited, his anger taking over and burning brighter and brighter with each minute he spent watching you smiling and laughing in the arms of the knight.

Then came night time

And as planned, he sneaked into your room

And he caught you while you were changing behind the room divider

You froze when you heard heavy footsteps.

But before you could peak from behind the room divider, Geralt was in front of you; grabbing your wrists harshly and pinning them above your head

His large frame pressed your naked body against the wall behind you

And for the first time, you saw something other than just tiredness and lust in his eyes

It was the green flames of jealousy, and guilt almost, but whatever it was, it was intense in his golden eyes

“Geralt, what the fuck are you doing?”

He chuckled as he watched you struggling to free yourself from his strong grip and failing miserably

“You’ve never questioned me before. What’s changed now?” he asked, leaning in closer.

His voice was deep and low

He sounded dangerous, and angry.

“You left! You left me here. I’m just another easy fuck to you, aren’t I? Well go on then, take what you want and go!” you raised your voice at him, looking him dead in the eyes.

“Don’t you talk to me in that tone! I saw you earlier today, walking around with… Whoever the fuck that was”

He looked you dead in the eyes while one of his hands slipped in between your legs; caressing your folds.

“Did he touch you?” he asked, leaning in so his lips hovered over your skin right beneath your ear, “Did he touch you like I do?”

You opened your mouth to sass at him but you ended up moaning instead.

He smirked and slipped his fingers past your entrance with ease; massaging and stroking your walls gently

He chuckled when he watched how you reacted to his touch.

His pride amplified because he knew now that no matter what, you’d always be his. And no one could ever touch you like he did.

The movement of his hand quickened, as your moans got higher and higher in pitch.

And he had you coming undone all over his hand in no time

Leaving you breathless while he dragged you to your bed.

The same bed he had fucked you in so many times now

But this time was different, because this time he wanted to prove a point.

He wanted to show you that you belonged to him.

Only him

He didn’t waste time to push himself into you

His thick cock stretching you out while he claimed you to be his

Entirely his

He placed his large hand over your mouth to keep you quiet while he pounded into you until his cum was oozing out of you

“You’re mine”

He repeated over and over again as he made you come around his cock again and again

He was relentless

He fucked you on the bed

Against the wall

Had you bend over your dresser while he rammed his cock in and out of you until you came violently; gushing out all over him shamelessly

He carried your almost limp body back to bed, where he spread your legs apart and pushed his face into your sensitive core

His tongue flicked and circled around your swollen clit until you cried out and begged him to let you cum

But he wouldn’t

He’d tease you, and bring you to the edge several times but wouldn’t grant you the permission to cum

He could go on till the sunrise, but he decided to finally give you a break after he saw that you couldn’t take it anymore

And he finally let you come all over his tongue

He’d proceed to lap up whatever you have him and he’d lick you clean

He’d kiss his way up your body and hold your trembling frame close to his naked body.

“I’m sorry, for everything I said. I’m sorry for leaving you”

His words were the last things you heard before you drifted off to sleep wrapped in his arms

Surprisingly, you woke up in his arms the next morning.

He had stayed till the morning. For the first time.