Dark!stalker!bucky - Blog Posts

Thanatosis 🦋

Part 1 : Holometabolous metamorphosis🦋

thanatosis- commonly known as ‘playing dead’ or tonic immobility, is a protective behaviour of animals and insects in which all voluntary activity is ceased and posture suggesting death is assumed. it occurs when disturbed.

Pairing: soft! Mafia! Biker! Bucky x innocent! victim! reader → dark! Mean! Mafia Biker! Bucky

Warnings: Non con, Stockholm syndrome, victim blaming (reader blames themselves), crying, pleading, abandonment issues, alcohol, name calling, dark!Bucky, mean!Bucky, Beefy!Bucky, innocent!reader, manipulation, abuse, bruises (not the kinky kind), thoughts of suicide, dacryphilia, punching, slapping, mentions of blood, heavy angst, fluff (at one point then it’s downhill from there)

Nicknames: бабочка (butterfly), stupid, ugly, worthless, whore, dumb, crybaby

The relationship depicted is not healthy at all. If you are experiencing a situation similar to this, please contact an abuse hotline, womens shelter or your doctor who can get you help. Stay safe.

༻ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐀𝐬𝐤𝐬 ༺

I am where I belong. My eyes drift open. I’m not on the floor. I’m not in my apartment, my cocoon. Instead I run my hand over fresh, expensive iron coloured sheets, I smell the air. Musky magnolia wood. I tap next to me, the bed is empty. But it’s warm. I swivel my head anxiously, but I’m alone. I plant my hands either side of me and push myself up, the world around me is fuzzy and my head buzzes painfully. I’m not dead. He saved me. He loves me. I need him.

The door clicks open, and in walks Bucky holding a cup of coffee. His sculpted jaw is set in a solemn expression, but his lips pull into a smile when his eyes meet mine “бабочка you're awake.” His voice is hoarse and just above a whisper, he sounds as if he’s been crying. He cautiously steps forward, scanning his eyes over me for any movement. I throw the cover off and practically leap off the bed “please, doll, I won’t hurt you. I should have never come near you whilst I was like that, I become a completely different person.” His reasoning stops as I limp around the bed and attach myself to his leg. He places the coffee down and attempts to remove me, but my grip tightens on his thick calf and my sobs grow louder as I let out incoherent pleads for him to stay. For him to never leave me again, promises that I would be good, I would be better, I would be whatever he needs, that I was stupid, that I was forever his.

We sit there for what feels like forever, on the carpeted floor. He rocks me back and forth gently, trying to console me, trying to stop my pleas. I do stop eventually, when he strokes my hair and holds me in his arms like a small child; whispering sweet nothings to me apologising like a prayer, his salty tears dripping down on to my face joining my snot and tears that leak on to the fresh clothes he’d put me in. He tries to wipe at the damp spot, but I nuzzle further into him, body weak, tiny next to his, shaking like a tree in a hurricane holding on to him for stability “I’m going to be better to you бабочка. You didn’t deserve that, okay? It wasn’t good, it wasn’t what you deserved; you’re precious I need to protect you my beautiful, beautiful fragile little butterfly.” His butterfly…I’ve always been his butterfly he thinks I’m beautiful he wants to protect me, my fresh wings are still unfurling. I’ve been born a new from my cocoon and now my life begins with Bucky. Bucky is good, I belong to Bucky “Are you okay now бабочка?” He asked, his face full of concern as I stared helplessly up at him, my eyes puffy, full of tears and face red nodding slowly. He stoops his neck and kisses me with all the tenderness and passion that was void from last night. The coldness that had seeped into my bones from being abandoned on my glum, dingy bathroom floor began to subside as Bucky’s tongue explored my mouth with his hot tongue. His kisses had always made me breathless, but now his hypnotising effect was doubled. I craved him so intensely.

I grabbed at his grey crew neck with my small hands, rubbing the fabric between my fingers as I pulled him even closer “Bucky.” I mewled, breaking gtg kiss and buryin fly face in the crook of his neck taking in his musky scent.

“I’ll never hurt you again бабочка, I promise you.”

It had been days since I’d first woken up in his bed and now it was an everyday occurance, he’d decided he didn’t want me staying in my apartment anymore, citing the bad memories and how depressing the space was as his reason. The past few days had been the best, he had cuddled with me on the couch continuously—wrapping me in soft blankets, kissing me constantly, always touching me in some way. Always praising me. Always telling me how much he loved me. He had to go out tonight to meet with the members of the gang, he told me not to call it that; he constantly says they’re not gangsters— though the whole of Brooklyn and the people he hangs out with would say otherwise. He wants to protect me, not to scare me…so thoughtful I remark.

The front door slams shut, I hear the sound of Bucky’s keys being tossed into the bowl on the chest of draws near the door. I turn off the TV, slip out of my cocoon of blankets and head for the door to see Bucky, pure adoration in my eyes. He’s kicking off his shoes, he looks up to see me and there is none of the usual warmth in his face. Blood is dripping from his temple, he has a cut across the bridge of his nose and his hair is dark and wet with sweat. His hands are trembling. No they’re thrumming. He’s furious, his breath is ragged like an animal sizing up its prey. His flame is burning brighter, harsher, hotter than ever. The adoration slips away. “бабочка. Come here.” He commands in a growl, I’m frozen staring at him like a deer in headlights. The smell of whiskey and a blend of other alcoholic beverages reaches my noses causing it to rinkle, he’s been drinking again. He promised not to “бабочка! I said come here are you FUCKING DEAF YOU WHORE?” He bellowed as he threw his suit jacket to the wooden floor. I took off down the hall to the bathroom, the only room with a lock. He caught up with me easily, slamming my head into the door as my hands desperately shook the knob trying to get it open. The pain from the impact sent shockwaves of dull pain across my nerves and caused white dots, dripping with colour to blot my vision. The door swung open and Bucky crashed into the floor, I clung to the door. I can lock him in. I pulled the door closed, but his fingers wrapped around it trying to pry it open as I was shutting it. I smashed his fingers in the door frame and he howled in response, using all of his strength—which was much more than mine—to slam the door into the wall. I’d failed, my only chance to get away. My face heated up tears blurring my vision as my lip wobbled pathetically just like my legs. They were jelly below me.

“No Bucky. No.” I cried fighting against his tight grip on my forearm, scratching at his face. He bit down on my finger. I screamed as he pushed me to the ground.

“Bedroom or here Bitch?” He asked lacing his fingers into my hair as I pummelled at his knees “FUCKING ANSWER ME!” Bucky demanded tugging at my hair enough to tear out strands. I yelp and weep in response, digging my nails into his forearm. Clawing at him. Begging for him to let me go “Fine. We’re doing it here.” He huffed releasing my hair and shoving my head into the ground. I was laying half way between the hallway and the bathroom, I tried to crawl away. Raking my nails across the wood, the awful scratching sound drowned by the deafening thump of my blood rushing past my ears. He grabbed my legs, bending them at the knee and pushing them painfully till the ball of my heels dug into my butt. He pressed harder into my bent legs as he draped himself over me, pressing his face to my ear, the beginnings of scruff on his jaw scratching the shell of my ear. “Try to get away and I’ll snap your little legs like chopsticks.” He threatened, spitting in my face as he rose back up, tearing my shirt in half and throwing it. I began to sob as he let me lay there helplessly on the ground, splayed out like a starfish on the beach. He tore my underwear as well, tossing the torn fabric carelessly like a used rag. I choked out painful sobs, as a tangle of cries and pleas ached in my throat trying to crawl out of my open, dribbling mouth. He shoved his fingers inside me roughly, causing a burn to radiate through me. It was so dry down there. He scissored his fingers twice before giving up and spitting on his cock, pumping his hand across his length a few times. That’s when the last sparks of adrenaline kicked in. I kicked him where it hurt, he yowled in agony as my foot connected with his balls. I clumsily got to my feet, pain shooting through my legs with every floundering step. I clung to the wall limping towards the front door. It was so close. I could fly free.

The flame burnt my wings. His fist connected with my temple and I collided with the oak wood, I traced the wood grain with my finger as my thoughts faded away. It’s Hopeless, like me. He turned me over and my unfocused eyes met his intense dark glare, his eyes were verging on black as his blue iris was swallowed by his insatiable black holes of pupils. The punches began. He pounded my stomach ruthlessly, then he threw a jab at my already bruised ribs, the metallic taste of iron rose in my throat and I coughed. Blood and spit smeared on my chin. He moved up to my face, slapping it over and over with the front and back of his hand—at least he isn’t wearing rings today— is the only thing that came to mind as I wordlessly let him hit, slap and scream. He soon got bored of it, the only thing that entertained him was the silent tears that streaked down my cheeks. He lapped at them like an animal; the heat of his tongue stinging my cheeks that he’d just finished slapping. I am where I belong. I am where I belong. IAMWHEREIBELONG. I try to reassure myself, the chant in my head almost overpowered the sound of his grunts and groans as he entered me. I broke my silence letting out a high pitched wail as he sheathed himself fully inside. I still couldn’t move. My body was frozen in place, my limbs felt as if they were pinned down by sandbags as I futilely tried to lift them. He continued his thrusts “Scream for me бабочка. Cry for me бабочка. You look so pretty when you cry, my little crybaby.” He chuckled as he cooed and ran his hand across my tear stained cheek. They way he said it sounded as if he was praising me, as if he wasn’t raping me in the hallway. As if my blood wasn’t the only thing making him slick enough to thrust. As if he wasn’t burning me. He promised he wouldn’t do this again. But the cycle repeats again.

Maybe I deserve this. He cares for you. My thoughts are disturbed by a distant voice. He loves you so much, this is what love looks like. He loves our wings, he burns us so beautifully. We can’t survive without him. We need Bucky.

His moans disturb my thoughts, he’s close I feel his cock twitch inside me. I let out a stifled sob “please stop.” My begging came out in a voice so small that it could be confused with the blowing of this wind, but he heard me. How could he not? He’s been staring intently at my face waiting for me to say something, anything, whilst he splits me open. His lips twitch into a smile as he picks up the pace earning a sob from my lips. His nails dig into the scabs from before, tearing them open causing blood to leak down my sides. I begin to regain feeling and the pain is atrocious. The white hot pain from where we are connected makes me try to reach out and grab him, pins and needles stab at the muscles in my arms as I begin to flail. I want to die. The pain is excruciating. Every part of my brain screams at me to get away from him. Stupid little moth. I curse. You flew too close to the flame and now look at you, pinned beneath him being fucked like a rag doll. Stupid, ugly, worthless little moth.

Maybe this is death, this is what death feels like. Painful until it’s not. Full of sadness until it’s not. Until it’s nothing but a dark hellscape to replace this hellscape. If I am dying I want it to be now, before he cums in me, before his warmth fills me. I want to die. I want to be an insignificant, little moth living my days chasing the brightest lamp; until I can curl up on some shitty windowsill and die, body stiff and useless—thrown in the trash or out a window. Or maybe this isn’t death, maybe I’m already dead and this is limbo, my own personal train platform before I get my ticket to heaven or hell. Maybe metamorphosis really did turn my fucking brain to soup, idiotic moth.

Give in to him. The pain will go away if you give in. The voice calls again, but this time I listen, closing my aching, heavy eyelids and the world around me fades.

And now I am where I belong. I thought I had completed metamorphosis before, how naive I was. As I sit upon his lap, head empty aside from the thought of Bucky, as he absent mindedly thrusts himself into me during his meeting. I suck at his neck, soaking in his scent. Babbling his name, moaning. Now my brain is soup seasoned by thoughts of him. Only him. I’m not dying, my life has only just started. He freed me from my cocoon because he loves me, he loves my wings, I’m his pretty moth. The cycle will repeat again, but for now I know that I am where I belong, with Bucky. I am his play thing, everything he does shows me he loves me. I’m just stupid, I need him to protect me. His flame burns me so sweetly. Without him I’ll die, he keeps me warm. The bruises hurt to remind me to be good, that he knows what’s best for me because I am where I belong.

Unfinished Dark!Bucky x Reader Drabble

Warning: smut, asphyxiation/choking, marking, manipulation, dark!stalker! Bucky, dark!soft dom!Bucky, Stockholm syndrome, breeding (maybe soon if I finish it)

Nicknames: Doll

I have no idea if I’m going to finish this, you’re meant to be locked in Bucky’s basement and you’ve kind of developed Stockholm syndrome and developed a dependency on him—you want him to mark you, you want him to breed you—but that because you’ve been manipulated. This is just a fragment, so the story line isn’t that obvious enjoy.

Update: This story will be continued soon in a series called ‘Now and Forever’ coming soon

His thick arm pressed to your throat holding you in place preventing your head from swivelling away from the sight on top of you. His hair moist with sweat, darkened and glued to his forehead, his steely blue eyes stare intensely down at you with uncharted amounts of passion and love-fuelled aggression as he pounds you into the mattress. The sound of skin meeting skin bounces off the walls, the force of his thrust ensuring you’ll wake up with red marks, possibly even bruises, from the impact of his hips, and you wouldn’t have it any other way; you want his mark to remain permanently on you even if only you can see it, it’s a bittersweet reminder of the steamy nights we’ve shared. The lustful scent of sex fills the room as the humidity rises high enough for the rain covered windows to steam, enabling you to dive deeper into your fantasy of the world only containing you, him and this room.

You are snapped out of your trance by Bucky lowering his head to your earlobe, his prickly stubble itching your jaw and cheek, he encompasses the shell of your ear in his mouth and nibbles down on the thin skin prompting a yelp from your lips “Come back to me doll, keep your beautiful eyes on me.” His voice deep and thick with lust goes straight to your loins causing your walls to flutter around his throbbing cock.