𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 | 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗎𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗎𝗆

Born In Flames || Chapter Seven, Part One

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Being the daughter of a mafia boss was hard enough growing up. You got out and made a new life for yourself as a bartender only to be sucked in when your old man made a bad deal and he thinks you need protection. Enter Bucky Barnes, your new bodyguard and roommate.

Warnings: Minor character deaths, non-con (no explicit details, just mentions), blood, torment, slight disassociation, kidnapping

Word Count: Both chapters together are a bit over 5K

Authors Note: So this chapter got dark, and long. So it’s split up into two parts. I’m putting the same warnings on both parts as well, though the second part is slightly less dark but still heavy.

Born In Flames Masterlist

Part Two

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You were cold. Freezing, actually.

Stripped down to the bare minimum clothing, every week being used to send photos.

Pierce hadn’t stepped foot inside the cabin since then. Men were stationed all around it, though only two would stay inside with you.

To say all pride went out of the window was an understatement. You didn’t get to use the bathroom with the door closed. Sleeping in a bed? Not allowed. You were only given an oversized shirt to sit around in.

They didn’t care about you. They cared about the check and making their boss proud.

And every week, Bucky and Michael grew more and more frustrated with the lack of findings. Michael kept reminding Bucky that he needed to calm down due to his surgery. He was still healing but he was going nuts without you. The only solace he found was every Saturday when a photo of you would be sent. It was marked with the date, a piece of paper that you held. Each week, there were new bruises and cuts on your skin. Each week, Bucky found a new reason to rage. He wanted to make them all feel the pain they were putting you in.

On the business side of things, Pierce was using you as leverage to get a hold of all of Michael’s dealings. The trading, the drugs, the guns, all of it. Michael tried to fight back but he learned early on that if he did, you received the brunt of it. He was sent videos of you being beaten, called names, tears streaming down your face.

Bucky broke the door when he saw it. His fist went through to the other side.

He had been staying at your place since then, even talking to Miss Liz every morning. He gave her some lie about how you were off visiting family and you weren’t sure how long you’d be gone. She accepted it, though she was probably too stoned to even think farther on it since you told her once that you don’t speak to your family anymore.

Weeks turned to months, the snow hitting hard. Each morning Bucky woke to see your paintings that sat on the shelf, his phone still not being sent any good messages. They tried to track your phone but it was off, probably broken and left on the side of some highway. They tried to track the photos but nothing seemed to come up and Pierce’s men were smart about where they drove. They knew when they were followed.

Michael started not to trust any of his men except Bucky. He thought Jasper was just a single rat but now that Glen had become one, he didn’t know who he could talk to.

So he talked to Bucky. The two of them tried to figure everything out. Hiring detectives was not an option, especially in the mafia business.

Currently you sat on the end of the couch, curled up around yourself. The men had already done unspeakable things to you. Things you never thought you would be worried about. Both men in the house had forced themselves on you time and time again. You taught yourself how to not be in that moment. To lose yourself in your head and not think about the man between your legs.

You thought about Bucky. When you slept, when you were awake, you thought of him. The few hours he held you while you slept. The way he held your face after the first shooting and how he took care of your ear. The way he allowed you to cry against him after your nightmares. He never once got angry with you. He dealt with your moods and the stupid guard dog name you gave him. You wished you could take it back, to tell him he was more than a guard dog just once more. He was kind and gentle, even allowing you to touch the arm he hated so much.

It was a Saturday, and you knew it. Stanley, the other man who was at the house with you and Glen/Matthew, got up from his chair and pulled out a switchblade from his pocket.

“New orders. I guess Michael isn’t listening very well,” he smirked, taking a seat next to you. Glen pulled up a wooden chair and sat in front of you, phone out and ready to record.

You were ready for the punches, the spitting, the raping. But when the knife slid against your skin, your eyes widened. “D-don’t,” you whispered, your voice broken. Your left eye was black and there was another dark bruise along your lip where it had been previously busted open.

Stanley chuckled darkly and pushed the metal into your skin, causing you to yelp in pain. You tried to pull away but Stanley’s free hand reached up and gripped your throat. “Stay still,” he spoke.

You squeezed your eyes shut as blood started to drip down the side of your thigh. Words started to appear, letter after letter, as you whispered in pain.

New Years.

Michael had until New Years to sign over everything or else you would be killed.

What Michael didn’t know was that they planned on killing you regardless. Everything that happened between Alexander and your mother was put onto you. A woman who was only a baby when she left him. A woman who didn’t want to be a part of the mafia at all.

Glen/Matthew zoomed in on the blood before your face, then shut the video off. Stanley gave your already wounded cheek a slap before getting up. “Go clean yourself up.”

Slowly you stood up, holding your breath as your thigh stung. The carving wasn’t super, super deep, but it didn’t stop bleeding for a few minutes. Making your way into the bathroom, you stepped inside of the bathtub and sat on the edge. Running the water, you hissed as it touched the open wounds. Tears fell as you tried to contain yourself.

All you wanted was to be home, curled up in bed with your bad television shows and unhealthy snacks. You wanted Bucky to be there and laugh as you made some silly joke. God, you missed that laugh. He didn’t laugh enough in the time you two had and you knew now he wouldn’t even smile. You didn’t have to be psychic for that.

Once it was as clean as it was going to get, you grabbed a cloth from the linen closet and held it against your thigh. You couldn’t find any gauze or bandages, so an old washcloth would have to do the trick. You just hoped you wouldn’t get an infection. Who knew where that knife had been before.

You sat back down on the couch and stared at the floor, disassociating once more. You often found yourself doing it to calm your mind. Crying gave you a headache and if you could get lost in some world in your mind where you were happy, then that’s how it had to be.

Back in Brooklyn, Bucky and Michael were sitting in his office when the video message came through. Michael opened up the email on his laptop and Bucky leaned down beside him.

The moment they saw you, how you screamed in pain, Bucky was ready to tear the office apart in rage. The metal plates on his arm whirred as he tried to compose himself. They were used to seeing your face beaten and bruised, but they hadn’t carved into you like that. A message was being sent through your skin.

Underneath the video was a little explanation about Michael handing everything over before New Years.

This was the last straw.

Bucky stormed out despite Michael calling out to him.

It was an unspoken rule not to go to the mafia bosses house. Every mafia boss adhered to it.

But Bucky wasn’t the mafia boss.

And he was about to use all of his training to get you back.

It took a few days to plan out, and by now you had been stuck in that cabin for six long months. He could tell by the photos and videos that they weren’t feeding you properly. You were nearly skin and bones. He devised a plan and decided to carry it out on his own. Even if he was killed, he just couldn’t sit around and do nothing while you suffered.

At about one am, Bucky found himself creeping around the outside of Pierce’s home. He had disabled all of the cameras so it didn’t alert anyone of movement before slipping inside. Did Pierce really not have any guards around? How stupid was he? Bucky lurked in the shadows of the home, only seeing one guard pass through a hall. Using a gun with a silencer, he shot the man and grabbed him before he could make a thud. Shoving him into a closet, Bucky then kept going through before finding Alexander's bedroom. Pushing the door open, he whipped out his gun and pointed it right at the man.

“Where is she?” Bucky asked, stepping inside.

Pierce didn’t seem phased, setting his book down and pulling off his glasses. “Didn’t hear you come in. Smart, I suppose. But did you really think this would be the best course of action? One simple call and she could be dead before you even try to pull the trigger.”

Bucky aimed at the nightstand, shooting the phone that sat there before aiming it back at Alexander. Pierce sighed and stood, though Bucky didn’t move.

“It’s nice that you’ve come to save her but you’ll never actually find her. I’m not dumb enough to keep her here. And good luck trying to find her in any of my properties. It will take far too long,” Pierce chuckled.

Bucky stared at him, trying to figure out his game. Was he trying to kill time? Distract him? Quickly the gun pointed down and he shot Pierce’s arm.

Apparently Pierce didn’t actually think Bucky would shoot by the way he looked at the man.

“You’re nothing but a coward,” he said as he gripped the old man's neck. “You’re going to take me to her or I’ll make sure you don’t leave this room alive.”

Pierce tried to pull away but Bucky gripped tighter. Pressing the barrel of the gun to his head, Bucky glared.

“Okay…I’ll take you,” Pierce said, holding his hands up.

Bucky watched him for a moment, trying to see if Pierce was going to try anything, but he pushed him to the door and kept his gun pressed to the back of his head the entire time.

Pierce led them to the garage and got in one of his expensive cars. Bucky sat in the passenger seat, never wavering his aim as Pierce drove. Anytime the man spoke, Bucky would quickly tell him to shut it. He had nothing left to hear. All he wanted was to hear you and make sure you were alive.

Pierce only hoped that his men were stationed where they were supposed to be. Five on one wouldn’t be too hard for them to get a good shot at Bucky, right?

Right?

Tag list: @crownstealer @borikenlove @bitchassbucky @babyboibucky @buckybarneschokeme @buckys-blue-eyes @vanillanaps @bibbidibobbidibucky @spicynudlesoup @bemine-bucky @suchababie @kaaabiii @rebekahdawkins @sebsbrokentoe @marvel-3407 @acmbooksandfilm @stucky-my-ship @boofy1998 @valsworldofcreativity @yaszx @21st-century-daydreamer @doll1917 @luxeavenger @hallecarey1 @booktease21 @supernatural-love14 @bookstan0618 @pastamomma @broadwaybabe18

Well I will gladly continue showing you my love if it means I can get more of your stuff

And even if one day you don’t feel like writing stuff anymore I will gladly remind you that you fics made my life better ❤️

Hello there! I don't know if you're interested in a (maybe) multi-part fic, but I had this idea for a while and can't take it from my head, maybe you can help

Telepath!reader that is new in the avenger's team and still can't control all her powers (especially when she is asleep). Nicky still has nightmares and reader feels his fear "pulling" her into his dream. She transforms Bucky's nightmare into a silly dream, thinking it's her dream. And it happens every night, but they don't know that they are really interacting with each other, because they think it's just a dream. But they start falling in love with each other.

I was thinking multi-part because each part could be a dream. So it would be a slow burn.

I love your writing and I think you would do amazing work with this, but it's ok if you're not interested.

Thank you for this, I hope you enjoy it! I have written dreamscape reality once before so I'm super excited to do it again. The other dream story was Raindrops & Roses if anyone wanted to check it out too.

Ships in the Night [pt.1] || Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, fluff, nightmares WC: 2.9k

You were still getting used to your apartment at the Avengers compound and you cursed as you tripped over the coffee table in the dark. You should have known that staying up for movie night was a bad idea but you had wanted to mingle with the other agents. There were only a handful of them missing so you finally got to put some faces to the names you had seen on the apartment doors.

The night had dragged on far longer than you had expected and when you were tired your telepathic and empathic powers were difficult to control. Already you could feel residual emotions from the other inhabitants of the building and even beyond. Somewhere out in the carpark a man was crying because his wife had left him and you felt his pain echoing in your chest until he drove away.

The action movie must have been playing on your mind as you settled into your new bed for the night, for when you closed your eyes you were met with the violent clashes of war. Men screamed and gunshots fired as you found yourself in an unfamiliar place, a damp forest that smelt of gunpowder instead of fresh air. To make matters worse, the sky was clouding over and large raindrops were quickly turning the earth to mud.

“This won’t do.” You complained as you began to tramp through the terrain and focused on rewriting the scenery as you went.

Mud filled your boots as you looked to the sky and curled your hand up, grabbing the clouds like balls of cotton candy and dropping them to dissolve in the puddles at your feet.

“We couldn’t have watched Crazy, Stupid, Love could we?” You growled as you shook the mud from your shoe and expelled a lungful of air to dry the ground once again. “This would be much better with Ryan Gosling.”

Gunshots suddenly sounded closer and you scanned the treeline trying to find which direction they were coming from when a flash of green caught your eye. You instinctively ducked as bullets flew over your head, not that it really mattered in the dreamworld, and ran towards a crop of fallen trunks that could hopefully provide cover. You leapt over the top of one log and were met with a pair of stunned and stunning blue eyes before a stray bullet tore through your chest. His eyes widened as he saw you topple over but before you had even hit the ground you woke in your bed.

Of course you would finally find a handsome man and die.

Tossing the blankets back, you carefully snaked your way to the small kitchenette each apartment had and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. You pressed it to your head first, letting the chill chase away the lingering fear of the man with the blue eyes. Like most dreams, by morning you would forget all about them and face another day of strengthening your mental walls.

“Morning sunshine.”

You nodded glumly at Natasha, her perky happiness radiating from her and easily penetrating your shield. You had hoped to have a better sleep when you returned to bed but you weren’t that lucky and now your mood was as dark as the bags that hung under your eyes.

“No one should be this happy, it’s not even 8am.” You complained as she poured you both a cup of coffee.

To make your morning worse, you had opened your cupboard and found your coffee pot empty so you had been forced to use the main kitchen on the ‘social’ floor as it had been dubbed. You couldn’t see yourself spending too much time in there with your powers, being around people and especially ones with trauma left you absorbing it into yourself. If you were lucky that is where it stayed but you had been known on occasion to accidentally release it to anyone in the vicinity.

Nat’s head tilted as you looked at you over her mug, and you laughed as she tried to read you. “You’re not the empath here, Nat.”

“I don’t need to be.” She shot back with a raised eyebrow. “You have all the signs of sleep deprivation. I read your file, do you need more time to settle in? We can put off training until you are better rested. We don’t want to have another incident like the one we-”

“I’m fine.” You said with a bit more bite than you intended to and took a deep breath. “I appreciate the concern but I will be fine, that won’t happen again.”

Her phone pinged and she pulled it from her pocket to see the message. “Well, it’s your lucky day. Barnes and Wilson just got called away so you’ll be training with me instead.”

She was genuinely happy to train you and it made it a bit easier to pull yourself out of the chair and follow her to the gym facility. The first time you had sparred with the Black Widow you had taken a hit to the head that left you dazed and your power had struck her in self preservation. You had seen the trauma of her past and brought it to the surface, accidentally making her relive the memories while you tried to stop it. You were surprised she would let you in the same room with her after everything you had seen.

“Is he really as scary as they say?” You asked as you caught up with her.

“Who? Barnes?” She laughed. “He’s just as grumpy as every other one hundred year old man but he’s not scary.”

“To you, you're the Black Widow.”

“I can still find things scary.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

She came to a stop and thought for a moment before shrugging. “I’ll think of something.”

You collapsed onto your bed with a groan, the aches of the day reminding you that tomorrow will be even worse. You didn’t even have the energy to close the curtains and the lights of the helipad lit up as a quinjet came in to land. It was too dark outside to see who it was departing the jet but you assumed it was Barnes and Wilson since no one else had left that you knew of. Rolling away from the window, you wriggled under your covers, quickly falling to sleep.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

You squealed as you were grappled around the waist and pulled away from the bullets that rained down on you. Your back was pressed to a tree, the sharp twigs and bark digging into you as the blue eyed man protected you with his own body.

“Why do I keep coming here?” You muttered as you found yourself in the same warzone as last night.

“The hell if I know, doll, but it isn’t safe.” He all but shouted over the gunfire, panic rising in his chest as he head peeked out behind the tree only to duck back in as a shell hit another tree. “I gotta get you outta here.”

“Relax, we can go anywhere you want.” You said as you raised your palm and turned the shrapnel and debris into doves. He watched in wonder as the metal and wood disappeared in a plume of white feathers before taking to the sky. While he was distracted you placed your finger to his temple and saw his home, taking you far away from the place that brought him no comfort.

“Are we in Brooklyn?” He asked as the trees gave way to the empty streets he had grown up in.

“I thought it might help you calm down.”

“How did you do that?”

His hand reached out to touch the bricks of his old school and felt the abrasive clay against his fingers.

“This is a dream. Just change it.” You shrugged.

His eyebrows pinched together and he ran a hand over his slicked back hair. “You say it like that’s easy.”

“Dreams are just the culmination of our emotions forming a reality of their own.” You said turning him around to see the name of his elementary school. “I wanted somewhere that you associated with comfort and we came here.”

In the apartment down the hall from you, Agent Barnes’ thrashing finally stilled. He hadn’t had a single night of peace since he broke from Hydra, guilt and regret tormenting him night and day. Now, he settled into the mattress that no longer felt too soft, something the guilt had always made him feel unworthy of, any comfort really.

You reached out to the brick he had touched and pulled it out of the wall, breaking off the corner like it was a square of chocolate. Holding your hand up to his chest where his dog tags lay resting, you paused. “May I?”

You could see the curiosity in his bright eyes as you lifted the chain and placed the square of brick like a pendant over one of his tags. The metal and brick merged as one and you let it fall back against his chest, his fingers automatically reaching for it as you let go. Although it looked no different when he ran his fingers over he felt the warm brick and not the cold metal.

“Next time you need an escape, just feel for the brick. Your mind will do the rest.” You smiled as you turned away, feeling the stirrings of your body waking up. “I hope you find some peace.”

You almost missed his answer as your eyes began to open but the words slipped through your consciousness. “Me too.”

“Would you look at that, Cyborg nearly smiled.” You heard a man with a teasing tone around the corner.

“Shut up before I break your wings Birdman.” A gruff voice warned, the irritation and self-hate slamming into your shield. “I don’t smile.”

“Sure you don’t. Maybe it was just gas, like with newborns.”

You turned on your heel and decided you would find another exit out of the building, one where there was less anger. You were still clenching your fists at the residual angst when you hit fresh air and you decided Nat would be happier with you taking a 10 minute walk to control your emotions than go straight into training with her like this.

“You’re late.” A familiar voice growled as you pushed the gym door open and found two men waiting, one leaning casually against the wall, the other in a stiff stance with their arms crossed over their chest.

“Where’s Nat, I mean Agent Romanoff?” You swallowed as you forgot the formalities after becoming too familiar with Nat.

“Relax, I’m Sam.” Agent Wilson said before turning to his rigid partner. “Dude, you’re scaring her. The robot is-”

“Agent Barnes, the arm kind of gives it away.” You said with a shy smile.

“Are you here to train or talk?” Agent Barnes said, the usual grumpy tone slightly off as he tried to figure out why you looked familiar, assuming like you did that you had seen each other in passing at the compound.

“I mean, if there’s a choice…” You joked and Sam laughed but Agent Barnes' lips barely twitched. “Train it is.”

After two hours of getting your ass handed to you, they let you leave and you limped out of the gym grateful to be able to breathe something other than the overpowering masculinity of Captain America and the Winter Soldier. As much as it seemed like they hated each other you could see the truth but you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to be the one to tell them they were actually friends. Maybe if they kept making you try to fight without your power then you may resort to it.

“Wow, you look like shit.” Nat teased as she walked into your room with two plates of food.

“I feel like shit.” You groaned as you sat up and made space for her on your bed before inhaling the food after the appetite you had worked up. “My bruises have bruises.”

“It gets easier, trust me.” She said, hanging around for a while before noticing your yawns coming in quick succession. “Rest up, you’re going to need it.”

“Ok, this is getting stupid now.” You huffed as you looked around the forest and found it almost completely silent, no gunshots or explosions. There was only a growing rumble and a chill in the air, the temperature dropping by the second. Twin tracks rolled past you and you realised the sound was a train, quickly making its way along the tracks towards you. Narrowing your eyes at the train, you spotted a silhouette on the roof and slowly he came into focus.

You sprinted head on to the train, the railway sleepers forming steps for you to climb until you could jump onto the roof, landing beside the soldier as you found yourself in some frozen mountain range. “Well, this is a change at least.”

He couldn’t seem to hear you as he stared over the edge of the train and down the cliff face to the icy raveen below. His eyes were reflecting the sky and ice and you felt the panic holding him petrified in place, he couldn’t even move to touch his dog tag. Cursing softly to yourself, you fought against your natural urge to absorb his panic and instead worked to break him from his trance.

“Ok, let's rewrite this bad boy.” You mused as you looked at the train about to head into a tunnel.

Darkness enveloped you both and you pictured the change you wanted to see, feeling your body become harnessed as a speck of light began to grow, the tunnel coming to an end. A scream tore from your lips as you flew into the light and straight into a loop-de-loop. You looked over at the soldier, strapped just like you were into the carriage, hands gripping the harness that kept him from falling out. Your stomach turned as you exited the last loop and you were glad the ride was coming to a stop, the large signs for Coney Island coming into view.

“Are you my guardian angel?”

“I don’t think anyone has called me an angel.” You chuckled.

“They should.” He said with a smile and the ride came to a halt. “I’m Bucky.”

“Y/n.” You accepted his hand as he climbed out the ride first and he slipped it under his elbow to rest on his forearm.

“Let me win you the biggest teddy, it’s the least I can do to thank you for saving me yet again, angel.” He pleaded as he led the way to the carnival stalls. “I’m pretty good at hitting the bullseye.”

His timeless charm was seeping through the longer he went without the return of his nightmare and you found yourself nodding, enjoying the moment of joyous emotions rolling off him. There was a moment where clouds filled the blue sky as he raised the slug gun to his shoulder but with a wave of your hand the rifle turned to a modern nerf gun and he turned to you with a relieved smile as the clouds dissipated.

He pulled the trigger and a flower sprouted from the barrel and you laughed at the fake unamused look he gave you, his lips curling up at the corners before he laughed. Pulling the trigger a dozen more times, he plucked the bouquet from the end of the gun and held them out for you.

“I mean, it’s no giant teddy…” You teased as you took the peonies from his hand.

His hand planted on the bench and he vaulted over the top so that he could knock the bullseye down and grabbed the biggest teddy there was, one that was almost as big as he was. “One giant teddy for the dame.”

“Your honour is only surpassed by your skills of theft.”

His smirk left you unarmed and he grabbed your hand so that he could tow you to the next stall, then the next. You hadn’t laughed so much in your life as you played every arcade game there was. Win or lose, Bucky would get you a prize until you couldn't possibly carry anymore and you were sad you wouldn’t be able to take them with you when you woke up.

“Will I see you tonight, angel?” Bucky asked as he heard his alarm for the first time, never actually having slept long enough to hear it.

“Do you want to?”

“I want nothing more.”

He was already fading away but you hoped your answer made it through the veil before it was too late.

Taglist || Taglist Join Form ||

@jessica11133 @nash-dara @buckyisperfect @itswanktime @slutforsexyseabass @sea040561 @gryffindorqueensworld @honeywithemoney @kenzieam @tsnelf7 @jmeagin-blog @saranghaey @heavenly-rogers @ashly4 @bibibeauelle

His Most Prized Possession

Pairing || Dark!Mob!Bucky x Wife!Reader

Summary || You’re the wife of the most feared man in all of New York City, James Buchanan Barnes, the mob boss of the biggest mafia in town. Your his—his girl, his beauty, his love, his property, his most prized possession. He will torture and kill anyone who dares to make any advances on his woman, and he won’t hesitate to show them who you belong to in the most sinful way possible before their end…

Word Count || 8876

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Smut, Angst, Dark Themes — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, slight dub-con, Dark!Jealous!Possessive!Bucky, angry/vicious!Bucky, soft!Bucky, mob/mafia business, mention of drugs/alcohol, violence, implied use of weapons, implied torture, blood, murder, crying, use of force, graphic/explicit content/language, pet names (doll, baby, babe, princess + others), unprotected vaginal sex, exhibition kink, forced voyeurism, daddy kink, spit kink, degradation & praise kink, use of the word whore, dom/sub dynamics, oral (m & f receiving), teasing, begging, face/throat fucking, gagging, fingering, spanking, choking, rough fucking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, cum swallowing, creampie, mention of bodily fluids, aftercare.

Authors Note || After a lot of work it’s finally done! I’m so proud of this! Please enjoy this twisted and sinful journey! Feedback would be so much appreciated on this piece <3 I want to know what you think!

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Mob!Bucky Masterlist

I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

The Underground Lounge

It was the most high-profile club in all of New York City. A place for criminals, the filthy rich, politicians and like-minded people to converge in secrecy for whatever they desire with no repercussions, whether that be alcohol, drugs, women, sex or just a fun time. Everything and anything went down here.

The club was nestled deep below The Blend nightclub, which acted as a cover for the underworld of crime below.

They were both owned by James Buchanan Barnes—Bucky amongst friends and loved ones. The most feared man in all of the city and the mob boss of the biggest and baddest mafia in town. He was also your husband. Your dangerous, vicious and sexy husband.

You and Bucky would usually be at the club on the weekends for some party and fun, which you were right now.

The VIP area that was only reserved for Bucky and company was slightly elevated over the rest of the club—giving Bucky the best view to look over his domain. It also showed the guests that they were nothing compared to the boss sitting on the high throne. The VIP area had an abundance of seating places—fitting several people. All compacted in a sizeable curved couch with a low circular table in the middle to put drinks on or other substances, for that matter. There was also enough space for Bucky’s security to keep a lookout over the club and its activities.

Today it was only you and Bucky attending. No friends, no other company, except for your security detail.

With a good percentage of alcohol in your system, you and he were all over each other—lips sloppily crashing into one another as you moaned and groaned into each other's mouths and hands roamed both your bodies.

You'd unbuttoned a few buttons of his white long-sleeved shirt—wanting to feel his collarbone and chest underneath your fingertips as you made out. His dark blue velvet dress jacket was tossed to the side long ago. Your other hand rested delicately on top of his covered bulge—palming him ever so often.

Bucky’s hand kept a tight grip on your naked upper thigh; the short little dress you wore barely covered anything, giving him easy access to your skin. His other held your throat gently in his grasp, making it impossible to move away from him not that you wanted to.

Ever so slightly, he inches his way higher up your thigh, hicking your dress up with his moves, as he caressed your delicate skin with his rough hands, making you moan and whimper into his mouth. His end goal was to get into your panties—wanting to force his fingers knuckle-deep into you and have you make a mess all over them.

It wasn't unusual for him and you to get a little naughty together in the club. On multiple occasions, you'd have his fingers deep inside your pussy or straddle his lap to grind yourself on his clothed cock. And occasionally giving him a handjob here and there.

You'd think he would be against having you so exposed to everyone’s prying eyes since he was always so protective and possessive over you in day-to-day life. But on the contrary, he loved showing you off here. It gave him the power to assert his dominance over you and make everyone know that you're his—his girl, his beauty, his love, his property and his most prized possession.

This was his club—his rules—his everything. Everyone knew not to mess with the mob boss's precious wife. Not unless they had a death wish.

Your body tingled in anticipation of having his digits buried deep inside you. You were so ready for it. So needy for it, but… God, did you really have to pee now, urgently.

“Bucky.”

His name came out in a moan rather than a plea for him to stop with his touches, making him think you wanted more. He swiped your damp panties with his thumb while his lips assaulted your neck with licks, kisses and bites, making you whine even more.

“Bucky!”

You placed your hands on his chest, shoving him lightly off you, making him stop with his kisses and retract his hand from under your dress.

“What!”

An annoyed tone was laced in his voice, but that quickly turned into concern as he thought something was wrong.

“What is it, baby?”

His thumb caressed your cheek lovingly as he tried to search your face for any discomfort. There was none, so he didn’t understand why you'd make him stop.

“I just really need to go pee.”

He nodded his head in understanding and was about to call for one of the security to accompany you, but you stopped him before he could.

“No! I can go on my own.”

“Doll…”

He cocked his head to the side. He didn’t like that. He didn’t want you going on your own.

Although the club was a safe space for you to wander around due to everyone knowing who you were and not daring to approach you under any circumstances, Bucky still wanted you looked after due to the reason that occasionally a rouge and unwanted person managed to get into the club, despite the tight security, and cause chaos and bothering the other club patrons. But that rarely happened, and right now, you just wanted to go on your own without having anyone on your tail all the time.

“Please, Bucky,” you pleaded with those puppy-dog eyes you knew he couldn't resist, “if I'm not back in 15 minutes, you can come and find me.”

“Alright, princess,” he pecked your lips, “but hurry back to me, baby,” and once more, “because I need to bury my fingers in your tight little pussy….”

He cupped your core harsh, making you moan out at the roughness. Bucky groaned out as he touched what belonged to him.

“... my tight little pussy.”

He growled in your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand and your core pulsate at his filthy words.

“I’ll be right back, babe.”

You gave him one last peck before you got up and fixed your dress—the material had bundled up your hips entirely. Bucky gave you a light tap on your ass before you walked away in search of the bathroom.

You did your business in the bathroom and freshened up before walking out to the club’s main area.

Bucky hadn't left his positing from the VIP area. His leg was crossed over the other, and his arms rested on the back of the couch while he looked calm and relaxed. You wanted to take advantage of your freedom and decided to get a quick drink at the bar before returning to him.

You made your way to the bar that was settled in the middle of the club while swaying your hips to the music playing. Luckily, the bar wasn't packed, so it should be a quick deal.

You order the drink and make yourself comfortable with your elbows on the bar counter, squeezing your breasts together, almost exposing them entirely. Your ass poked out behind you—the dress so tiny and short that it almost showed your entire ass.

You knew everyone had their eyes on you, thirsting and yearning for you—for something they knew they could never have, and that's what you loved so much about it. In this club, you loved being a little cock-tease to everyone—it made you feel powerful.

While waiting for your drink, you scanned and observed the club’s guests. Most of them you'd seen before and recognised—politicians with their mistresses, criminals making shady deals with each other, and some new faces you'd never seen before. Everyone looked to be in great spirit and having fun tonight.

“My, my… don't you look pretty tonight.”

A deep, smooth voice murmured in your ear, making you jump out of your skin a little at the roughness of it. You thought it was Bucky for a second, but the voice didn’t match quite right. When you spun around, you found yourself caught in an intense gaze by a man. Usually, you'd back away and decline any stranger like that, but something about him just made your whole being scream in need.

The man oozed danger, sex and confidence—all things you loved and had gotten so used to with Bucky. So you couldn't help yourself when you got ensnared in this stranger's trap. You knew you shouldn't talk to this man. Bucky would be pissed if he found out. But Bucky wasn't here right now, and the drink should be done any second, so you decided to play along and then would politely decline once it was time. Bucky would never know.

“Well, hello to you, stranger.”

You batted your eyelashes at him and gave him your most appetising smile and gestures you could muster up, popping your hip out and tilting your head to the side, wanting to play a bit dirty and rile him up.

“My, you're the prettiest little thing in this whole club.”

He came closer, almost pinning you against the bar with his massive frame. He licked his lips as his eyes travelled across your whole body. This man was playing a dangerous game in approaching you like that—intentions clearly sexual.

He presented his hand, and you took it gladly, shaking it.

“The names Roman,” he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it while maintaining eye contact, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Roman?

Roman?

You'd heard that name before, but you couldn't quite put your finger on who he was. It was such an unusual name that you would think with such a name, you'd remember who it belonged to, but your mind was completely blank. It must be the alcohol and the intense surge of sexual energy you were experiencing.

“The pleasure is all mine, Roman,” you gave him your name, which made him smirk when he heard it.

“That's a beautiful name, princess. What brings you to this club, sweet thing?”

“Oh, I-”

The conversation was cut abruptly by someone grabbing Roman’s shoulder and pulling him away from you, turning him to face whoever it was.

You gasped.

Shit. It was Bucky.

His face was stone cold as he stared Roman down with absolute dark rage in his eyes. His fists clenched by his side—knuckles turning white.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Roman?” Bucky spat out while getting all up in his face.

Wait?

Bucky knew him?

Oh…

Oh!

Oh, no…

He was that Roman.

Shit. Now you remember.

He's the man that betrayed Bucky about a year ago and went to be with Bucky’s number one rivals instead. You remember at the time what kind of a toll it had taken on Bucky to be so gruesomely crossed.

This was not good. You felt so horrible and guilty now with the later knowledge of know this man was. How could you have forgotten him? Forgotten what he's done? You should have brushed him off instead of instigating his actions further.

You couldn't hear what they were saying because they were so up in each other's faces, but you could tell that it was a heated argument. You wondered what was being said. What kind of complications and events this would all lead to.

Suddenly, Bucky shoved him hard, and it looked like he would fight him right then and there. But he didn’t…

“You’re fucking dead, Roman,” Bucky uttered through gritted teeth.

Bucky came to your side and grabbed your arm hard. So hard that it hurt, and you winced and tossed to try and get out of his harsh grip, but he wouldn't budge. He pulled you back to the VIP area and ordered you to sit on the couch.

“Don't fucking move.”

His words were like poison, making you flinch at the absolute anger in his voice. Your eyes were becoming glossy—tears threatening to spill at any moment. You wrapped your arms around yourself for comfort.

How could you be so stupid? You should have just said no to Roman instead of acting like a fucking brat and whore—wanting to be a little cock tease for a man that wasn't even your man. You should have just been an obedient little wife and returned to your husband like you were supposed to.

Bucky was furiously talking to one of his men for several minutes. You saw how stressed, angry and fearful his demeanour was. His hand ran through his short hair multiple times. It was rare to see Bucky in this state. He was usually tough and determined, not bothered by what people said and did, and always in control of things. But it looked like Roman had really struck a sensitive nerve—said something that had put Bucky out of check.

When he was done conversing, he came back to you and took your hand, gently this time, and pulled you with him out of the main club area, not saying a thing. It looks like you were leaving. You went through the backdoor that was only used for you and Bucky and a selected few other people.

Once in the elevator, Bucky wrapped a protective arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his torso, still not saying anything. You wanted to say something. To plead for his forgiveness, but you felt awkward doing it in this tight place when you weren't alone. You would try and talk to him in the car when it was just the two of you.

Bucky ushered you into the backseat of the black luxury car, him getting in behind you. You weren't sure where you were going—home, most likely. The screen divider that separated the backseats and driver seat was up, so you were all alone, and you could finally try to talk to him.

“Bucky?”

You tried in a sweet and calm voice.

Nothing.

He pulled his phone out when it pinged with a message. His mouth remained in a thin line, eyebrows furrowed, with no emotions in his eyes as he typed on his phone before placing it inside his jacket.

“Bu-Bucky?”

Your weak voice cracked as his name came out in a sob this time.

“I-I’m so s-sorry. I-I shou-” You sobbed even more, unable to finish your sentence. You were about to cry any second, knowing that Bucky was mad and disappointed in you for being so stupid and reckless. You turned your head away from him, unable to look at his stern face.

“Doll…”

His voice was sweet compared to the poisonous one he used with you in the Underground. You thought he would yell at you once in the car. But it was the opposite. His loving and caring side surfaced—your wonderful husband that loved you beyond words.

“Baby…”

He grabbed your chin with his fingers and turned your head towards his. His eyes held nothing but love and adoration for you—his wife. His heart broke when he saw a few tears roll down your cheeks, your lips quivering.

“P-please d-don't be mad a-at me, Bucky.”

“Oh, baby… come here.”

He pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his strong arms around your waist. His head nuzzled in your neck as he laid tender kisses on the soft skin to try and soothe you,

“Mad at you? No, doll. I could never be mad at you, and I’m sorry it came across that way. I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you like that, my sweet love.”

“Bu-but, you seemed s-so angry at me. Angry for what I’d done and who I was talking to. I swear, Bucky, I forgot who he was, and I-I just-”

“Doll.” He made you rest your forehead on his. His piercing blue eyes focused deep into yours—showing you that he spoke the truth. “I’m not mad at you at all. Please don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s not your fault. Not even the slightest, ok? I love you, babydoll.”

“O-ok. I-I love you t-too, Bucky.”

He dried your tears while giving you a warm smile. “My precious girl.” He cradled your face in his hands and laid a light, comforting kiss on your lips. The kiss slowly progressed to a more passionate one—neediness and love poured into it.

The moment was quickly interrupted by Bucky’s phone pinging with a message in his jacket. He groaned as he fished it out to read it. You caught a glimpse and gasped when you saw what it said.

It's done.

You knew what it meant. It was the worst possible outcome following the events that unfolded in the club.

“Is, is he d-dead?”

“No, no, doll. They only questioned him, that's all.” Bucky tried to reassure you.

You knew what questioned meant. It meant that they had beaten the shit out of him, almost to the point of death. And although Bucky spoke the truth that Roman wasn't dead, he would be soon. Bucky never let something like what happened at the club go unpunished—people trying to cross his line. Certainly not when it comes to you. He would torture and kill anyone who made any advances on you, especially when they were fully aware of who you were and belonged to. And Roman most certainly knew what he was doing when he approached you. He wanted to provoke Bucky and test his limits. And now he would pay for it.

Maybe he didn’t think it through enough? Perhaps he thought he was safe because he was under the protection of Bucky’s rivals?

But one should never underestimate Bucky. He didn’t give a fuck who anyone belonged to, enemies or friends. If provoked, he would have you severely punished or, in the worst case, killed.

You shook your head—not wanting to think about it anymore. Instead, you lay your head on Bucky’s shoulder and close your eyes for the remaining car ride. His fingertips delicately caressing your arm lulled you to a relaxed and sleepy state…

———

“Doll,” his soothing voice murmured in your ear, pulling you out from the light sleep, “baby, we’re here.”

You softly moaned as you lifted your head and saw that you’d pulled into the garage of your penthouse—you were indeed home now. Luckily, because you were ready to cuddle up with your husband in bed and go to sleep in his loving and protective embrace.

“You want me to carry you?”

“N-no, I can go on my own.”

Once in the elevator, Bucky pressed the button for the roof terrace, not the apartment like you thought we would. You looked up at him. A confused expression on your face—eyebrows furrowed.

“Are we not going to bed yet?”

“Not yet,” he wrapped his arms around your shoulder, pulling you close to him, and kissed your head, “I have something I want to show you.”

What did he have to show you on the rooftop?

When the elevator arrived, Bucky took your hand and led you to the patio overlooking the light-filled city. Nothing looked unusual. Everything looked as it always did. There was no thing to show. So why did he bring you here?

“Bucky, what are we doing here?”

“Come.”

He led you to the very edge of the fence and wrapped his arms around you from behind. His head rested on your shoulder, and you leaned yours on his.

“Do you see, doll?”

“See what, Bucky?”

“The city!”

“Your city, babe.”

“Our city, baby girl. All of this is for you. Everything I do is for you. You and my undying love for you influence every decision I make in life.”

“James… you know I don't need any of this. I appreciate it, baby, you know that, but… I just need you.”

“I know, I only need you as well, but I just wanted you to know that we’re in this together. We can always count on each other. We will always have one another. Our love is powerful and unbreakable.”

“You know it, Bucky.”

You stood for a while longer. Staring out over your city as you swayed to imaginary music. Bucky’s lips graced your cheek as he whispered sweet nothings that had your heart burst with warmth, love and security.

Words can’t describe how much you loved this man. This vicious, menacing, murderous, but also affectionate, warm and joyous man. One would think such words couldn’t be combined to describe a man—that it doesn't fit. But Bucky was all those, and you wouldn’t change him for the world.

Your sweet bubble was interrupted by another notification on Bucky’s phone, making him groan in annoyance. He held one arm around your waist while the other retrieved his phone.

You couldn't see what it said this time, but he let out a groan of approval and then pulled you with him back to the elevator once he read it.

“Where are we going now? More surprises?”

“We’re just going to our room.”

Ah, finally. As much as you loved Bucky for bringing you up here and expressing his undying love for you, you really just wanted to snuggle up to him in bed now.

But once you arrived at your room, one of Bucky’s men was waiting by the door, which was highly unusual. You wondered what was going on. It probably had something to do about Bucky’s recent text message. Probably an update on Roman and his current… situation. But no matter what it was, you hoped it would be able to wait till the morning. You just wanted Bucky all to yourself now.

“Wait here, doll.”

You stood in place while Bucky approached his man. He whispered something to Bucky, and Bucky nodded before he called you over. The man bid you good night, and then it was finally just you and your husband.

“What was that all about, babe?”

“My love…”

He lay his hands on your shoulders, staring deep into your eyes with seriousness written all over his face.

What was going on?

Why was he acting so… strange?

“Yes, my dear?”

“Do you trust me?”

“I do, Bucky, with my life.”

“Would you do anything I ask of you?”

You didn’t like to admit it, but you would kill for this man if the situation ever occurred.

“I-I… yes.”

“Then come with me,” he presented his hand, and you took it without hesitation, “don't be alarmed.”

Alarmed?

He opened the door to your shared master bedroom. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Although you trusted Bucky, his behaviour was more abnormal than usual, which scared you slightly.

You expected to be met with something significant while walking into the room, but there was nothing in the dim-lit room. It was a little hard to see with the lights out, so you scanned the entire space to try and find the abnormality—from the huge windows lining the outer wall, to the bed, and finally, the other side of the room. And that's when you saw it.

You gasped out loud in horror, eyes wide like saucers when you saw a person in the darkened corner of your room. It was a man—beaten, bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair. His scream was muffled by something shoved into his mouth.

Oh my god… it was Roman…

“B-Bucky, wha-”

What was happening? This was wrong. This was so wrong on so many levels. Bucky never brought any of his mob business into your home. He always tried to shield you from that gruesome aspect of his world as best as possible. So what was he doing?

You backed away slowly but were stopped by colliding into Bucky’s chest. He grabbed your upper arms to keep your shaking form in place. His breath fanned your face while he whispered in your ear.

“Don’t be scared, my love.”

You were very much horrified by the sight of a bloodied and bruised man bound tight in your room. I mean, who wouldn't be?

“Wh-what i-is going o-on?”

You contemplated screaming and running away. If that's what you wanted, Bucky would have let you go—he would never force you into doing something you absolutely didn’t want. But you didn’t move a muscle. This situation intrigued you. Bucky’s vicious and twisted mind fascinated you.

Although you were the innocent and sweet one in the relationship, you had a slight devious nature to you as well. So you wanted to see what kind of plans Bucky had in store for bringing Roman into your privacy. What kind of things does he want to do. So you let go of all your worries and went with the flow.

With Bucky’s hand secured around your neck, craning your chin up to make you look at Roman. Bucky spoke, loud enough for Roman to hear as well, the most sinful, possessive and immoral words he's ever uttered—making you shamelessly aroused and almost crumble to the floor.

“He’s gonna watch us, doll, all powerless tied up in that chair as I do with you as I please. He’s gonna watch as I undress you and expose your beautiful flesh to his eyes. He’s gonna watch as I kiss, lick, suck and bite all over your skin. He’s gonna watch and hear as I make you moan, whimper and scream. He’s gonna watch as I fuck you hard, my wife. Claiming your body and soul as mine, and mine only.”

Fuck.

You were all in.

Bucky circled his arms around your waist and brought you closer to his firm chest. Very delicately, he started leaving kisses on your exposed shoulder, making you purr in delight. His feather-light kisses made goosebumps erupt on your skin. You craned your neck to the side, giving his lips more space to continue their journey further up. A loud moan of satisfaction escaped you as he became rougher with it—licking and sucking on your tender sweet spot.

In a swift motion, he removed your little dress—leaving you in your pretty underwear. His hands started roaming all over your exposed body, paying close attention to all your curves with his fingers—hips, waist and breasts—especially your breasts. He palmed them in his grasp and pinched your nipple through the material of your bra, making you wince out at the slight pain.

While one of his hands palmed your breast, the other ran down your stomach and found its way into your panties, making you gasp once his expert fingers found your aching core. He ran his fingers through your slick folds, groaning deeply in your ear, making the hairs at the back of your neck stand.

“Fuck, baby, already so wet and messy for me, huh? Did that turn you on, princess? My little speech about fucking you and claiming you as mine while he watches all helpless?”

“U-uh, huh.”

You were revelling in the pleasure your twisted and loving husband provided you that there was no way to form any coherent words, let alone sentences. It made Bucky chuckle in a sinister way at how absolute speechless he could make you with such simple touches.

Then it all stopped—his touches and kisses. You whined out in protest and were starting to turn around to see what was going on, but he stopped you by grabbing your upper arms and turning you towards Roman again.

“Stay still, baby.”

Thankfully, his delicate touches returned to your skin. His fingers ran from your shoulder and down until they met the clasp of your bra—unclasping it with no difficulty. The bra straps ran down your arms and hit the floor with a soft thud. Your breasts fully exposed to the two men.

With Bucky’s hands caressing your waist, he descended to the floor behind you. His fingers hooked into your panties and pulled them down your legs. Now, you were fully exposed; your parts that Bucky was so protective and possessive over came to light.

He left a wet kiss on each of your ass cheeks before travelling the kisses upward your naked back—until he stood straight up and wrapped his hand around your throat again, making you yelp and pay full attention to the man tied to the chair. Bucky spoke loud again for him to hear as well.

“This here is all mine. My body—my tits, my ass, my pussy,” he groped your wet and naked core, making you gasp out, “Only I will get to touch and take all of her as I please. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”

“I-it’s yours, B-Bucky, I-I belong to y-you.”

He turned you around and pulled your naked body flush into his clothed one. His hand grasped the back of your neck and brought your lips to his—hungrily kissing you, tongues caressing one another as you moaned and groaned into the heated and needy kiss. His other hand took hold of your ass cheek—altering between squeezing hard and delivering slaps to the plump flesh, which made you whimper into his mouth each time he did.

While still keeping your lips connected, Bucky manoeuvred you to the foot of the bed and removed his jacket while you helped with unbuttoning his white shirt—tearing it off his muscular body.

You roamed your hands all over his hard chest and stomach, moaning as you felt every curve and dip of his delicious muscles. While you touched him, Bucky went to work on getting his pants off.

“Let me.”

You descended to your knees, finding a comfortable place on the marble floor, and helped him tug his pants and underwear down. A satisfied gasp slips from your mouth as his hard cock springs to life—slapping against his belly.

“This cock belongs to me, doesn't it, daddy?” You mutter as you take a firm grasp on his base, and kitten lick his tip while looking up at him.

Bucky chuckled at your possessive nature, licking his lips. You could be just as possessive over Bucky as he was over you, and he loved it. He belonged to you as much as you belonged to him.

“You know it does, baby,” his hand cradled your face, “all of me belongs to you, body and soul.”

You pushed him down to sit on the foot of the bed, his hands on the mattress keeping his weight up. His eyes were fixated on your kneeling form as you nestled between his spread legs. The palm of your hands caressed his thighs up and down as you stared at his entire cock—your mouth watering at how delicious it looked.

“I’m so hungry for your cock, daddy.”

“Yeah? You gonna show him what a little cock-whore you are, baby?”

“Yes,” a glob of your spit fell on him, making him groan as your hand jerked him and spread the saliva all over his length, “I’m a little cock-whore that wants your cock in my mouth.”

He twitched at your lewd words.

“Take all of me then.”

With his hand at the back of your head, he guided and encouraged you to take him whole. With no hesitation, you engulfed his length immediately—too cock-hungry to tease and toy with him until he begged for you. You desperately needed his length deep in your throat.

You gagged around him as he tickled the back of your throat. The vibrations made him shudder where he sat. With each hand cradling your face, he forced your head up and down on him, thrusting his hips upwards to meet your moves.

Tears pooled in your eyes, and saliva dribbled out of your mouth as he forced his way down your throat. It was so messy and erotic—sloppy sounds filled the room.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he concentrated on how your warm and wet mouth felt on his throbbing cock. Guttural groans rumbled in his throat.

“Fuck, you take my cock so well, baby.”

He removed you from him, which made you whine in protest—missing the feel of him choking you with it. Your hand wrapped around him and jerked his length in long strokes as you presented your tongue—showing him how absolute needy you were for his cock shoved deep in your cavity.

With his fingers holding your jaw, he leaned down till he was level with your face and gifted you a glob of his spit on your awaiting tongue. “Fucking whore, you know that?” You nod your head. The degrading action and words had your pussy flutter. You rolled your tongue into your mouth and leaned down to retake him, bobbing your head while Bucky supported his weight on his hands, allowing you to take control of his cock as he sat and enjoyed the lewd performance.

“I bet you’re fucking jealous now.” Bucky sneered at Roman as the corner of his mouth turned up in a sinister smirk.

Your hand accompanied your mouth—stroking his base while your mouth paid attention to his sensitive head—finding a perfect rhythm to bring Bucky over the edge. The other hand cupped his balls to fondle them.

“Look at me….”

You peered up at him through your thick lashes while you had your mouth and hands full of his cock and balls. Drool and tears covering all of you.

“...fucking shit, doll, you’re gonna make me come.” A few seconds later, he grunted as he reached his climax. His hand gripping your shoulder hard to brace himself.

Watching his face contour in pure pleasure, moaning, groaning and grunting while his thick load shoots down your throat must be one of the most pornographic scenes you’d ever witnessed. Your pussy fluttered at the sight and vocalisation of him—slickness running down your inner thighs.

Holy fucking shit.

You worked him thoroughly through his intense orgasm to make him feel as good as possible. Not letting a single drop of him go to waste—all of it trickled down your throat.

Once he had come down from his high, you pulled him out from your mouth, making his head leave with a pop. Bucky hisses as his sensitive cock is freed from your expert hold.

You were a mess—drool covering your face, hands and tits, but to Bucky, it was the most stunning you’d ever looked.

“Oh, baby. So beautiful and messy for me.”

With his hand holding your throat, he leaned down to give you a sloppy kiss which you whimpered into.

“Get on the bed.”

All giddy, you switched places with him. Your elbows supported your weight as you spread your legs for him, showing him your glistening and needy pussy.

“Fucking gorgeous.”

“Are you gonna fuck me, daddy?”

Bucky tugged your legs, pulling you further towards him—till your ass was right by the edge of your bed.

“Not yet, babydoll. I need to taste that pussy first.”

He finds a comfortable place on his knees between your spread legs so he can go to work in worshipping all of you, like the Goddess you are. His face is inches from where you so desperately need him, feeling his breath on you, making your pussy ache for him. You arch into his face, your hand running over his short hair, begging for him to taste you, touch you, do anything to you. To eat you out until he shatters your existence.

“Please, Bucky,” you pathetically plead.

“You want it, baby?”

The tip of his tongue flickers your nub. That simple touch has your whole body convulse on the bed and a soft whimper escaping you.

God, you were so needy.

“P-please.”

“I’ll make you feel so fucking good, princess,” he laid a simple kiss on your wet folds, making you convulse once more, “but first, I need to clean up this mess you’ve made, baby.” He was referring to the slickness that had spilt from you, running down your inner thighs.

While his hands caressed the side of your waist, making delicious tingles erupt on your skin, he went to work on cleaning you up with his tongue—licking up the mess you’ve made, moaning at your taste. “Your taste is outstanding, baby.” Your whimper in pain and pleasure as he nips the skin of your inner thigh with his teeth—his tongue soothing the sting after.

“You have the prettiest pussy; you know that, baby? I’m so lucky that I’m the only man who will ever get to see it, to taste it,” he licks your outer lips, which has you arch into him for more, “and to fuck this needy little cunt.”

Finally, he places his mouth where you desperately need it to be. He drags his broad tongue through your folds and flicks the tip of it on your clit. The action has you arch your back, and your eyes flutter shut.

“O-oh…”

A glob of his saliva hits your clit, trickling down your folds. He groans as he watches his mess mix with your own—making your pussy look like the most delicious five-star meal he’s ever seen.

“Look at him, baby. Look at him while I eat your pussy.”

You turned your head to look at the man bound in his chair. It’s fucked up to admit it, but it turned you on to have Bucky between your thighs while a beaten-down man watched. You could see him shaking in his chair, shock overloading his system while his bloodied face pleaded for mercy—for his hurt and misery to end.

Fuck, this was hot.

You moaned loudly as Bucky went to work on devouring your pussy like a starved man that hasn’t had a decent meal in forever. He drags his tongue through your slit multiple times to get all of your flavours. His groan against your pussy at the taste has you quiver on the mattress and a loud cry emitting from you.

He lewdly spits on your pussy to claim ownership over it before his lips wrap around your raw nub—altering between sucking and licking the sensitive nerve. You try to keep your focus on Roman, but your eyes flutter at the pleasure, your mind and vision becoming blurry.

Two fingers penetrate your velvet walls, stretching you out and reaching knuckle deep, making you wail out. Their tips brush against the spot that has you absolutely lose it, making you writhe on the bed. The other works your breast—palming the supple flesh in his grasp, pinching and pulling on your sensitive nipple. You're nothing but cries of pleasure—moaning, groaning and whimpering as Bucky works you to perfection.

You feel kind of embarrassed at how noisy and pathetic you sound, so you bite your bottom lip hard to try and keep yourself down. Bucky didn’t like that at all.

“No, no,” he releases your clit from his hold, “let him hear. Let him hear all your pretty noises, baby.”

He quickly returned his assaults on your swollen clit that throbbed in need. His fingers moved in and out of you at an expert pace, and his other hand worked your breast.

Upon his wishes, you let your cries of satisfaction flow freely—filling up the bedroom. Your breathing hitched in your throat as the buildup was nearing its breaking point, so close to shattering your whole existence—body and soul.

Both your hands are placed at the back of his head, keeping him there so that he cannot move away and deny you your pleasure under no circumstances. Your hips rock into his vicious mouth as you chase your orgasm—it’s right there, so close.

“Bucky,” you cry as you come hard, your toes curling and your whole body convulsing on the bed. You try keeping your gaze on Roman as the coil in your stomach snaps, but your eyes cross. The surge of intense pleasure on your mind and body is almost indescribable—you’ve never come so hard in your entire life. As stars blur your vision, you feel like you're floating on a cloud.

Bucky groans as he works through your orgasm, your clit throbbing in his mouth and your tight walls fluttering around his digits. He’s in awe as he watches you fall apart like you’ve never done before, and he doesn't stop pleasuring you until you are all but satisfied.

You sob from sensitivity as his mouth and fingers leave your used and abused pussy. You’re a panting and heaving mess as you try and come back to your senses.

“You have no idea how sexy and breathtaking you are when you come like that, baby,” he says before kissing your mound, making you twitch. He proceeds with his kisses up your stomach and gives each of your nipples a lick; each touch has you spasm on the bed at how overly sensitive your whole body feels. He comes to face you—gently laying a kiss on your lips so you can taste yourself.

“I really fucked you up, didn’t I? I’m the only one that can make you come like that, huh?”

All you can do is nod while babbling unfinished words as you still haven’t recovered from your high.

Bucky chuckled at your distant and fucked out state.

“I’ll fuck you up some more, doll. He’s gonna watch as I absolutely wreck you.”

He pulls you further up the bed until you’re both in the middle of it.

With his hard cock in hand, he taps the head on your swollen clit, making you twitch and sob; a weak no falls from your lips as you place your hand on his hip to try and push him off.

You can’t. You’re so overly sensitive that it hurts. You can’t take anymore. But Bucky didn’t seem to give a fuck. He wasn’t done with you.

“I-I c-can’t.”

“Yes, you can, baby.” He speaks through gritted teeth.

He takes your hand off him and pins it down on the mattress.

Again he taps your clit, pulling out the same reaction from you as before. He glides his leaking tip through your wet folds. Gradually, his cock gliding on your tingling nub feels fucking incredible, and you’re ready for him to wreck you with his length.

“Please, daddy, fuck me.”

He groaned out at your neediness for him and lined his tip with your quivering entrance. Slowly, inch by inch, he penetrates your tight velvet walls with his cock, making you whimper at the slight ache. His hands grasp the back of your thighs as he forces his way inside you, guttural groans rumbling in his throat as your warm and tight walls engulf him. The last bit of him he forcefully pushes inside you, slamming into your pelvis, making you sob a cry, and your eyes roll back—showing white. The feeling of fullness has you blabbering pleas for him to destroy and fuck you senseless.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking tight.”

His voice is so deep and husky, making your walls flutter around his length, pulling out a heavy moan from him.

“I’ll fuck you so good, doll.”

He pulls out and then forces himself hard into you again, making you jolt and cry on the mattress. He does it a few times, being rough and abusive with it, before he starts fucking your tightness in deep and powerful strokes, slapping his skin against yours.

He hoists your legs on his shoulder, pinning them against his front, as he thrusts into you, his tip brushing your sweet spot each time he reaches deep inside you. You’re nothing but a moaning, whimpering mess as you take it all. Your hands grip the sheets to brace yourself, your eyes cross as he fucks you into oblivion, and your breasts bounce with each abusive thrust he delivers.

“My pussy. Mine, mine, mine, mine,” he grunts between each hard thrust, watching his length disappear through your walls.

There's nothing on your brain other than his cock—nothing but earth-shattering pleasure that it's giving.

You convey that you want him closer with grabby hands as you’re entirely speechless with how he’s fucking you.

Answering your pleas, he drops your legs on each side before lowering his body till his naked chest meets yours, holding his weight up so he won’t completely crush your sensitive body. His forehead rests on yours as his warm breath hits your face.

“So needy for my cock, huh? So needy for all of me?”

You can only let out a sound of approval.

“Good fucking girl.”

With the rolls of his hips, he manages to reach even deeper inside you, making you wail in pleasure. You wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck, clinging to him with your weak strength. The buildup was fast due to your last orgasm, and you were ready to explode with pleasure once more.

“I-I-I’m go….”

You couldn't even form a coherent sentence, making Bucky chuckle at how good he was fucking your brains.

“You gonna come, baby?”

“U-uh, huh.”

“Look at him, baby,” with his fingers on your jaw; he turned your head to look at Roman, “look at him as you cream and make a mess all over my cock, you fucking whore. Look at him while I stuff your little cunt.”

You try to keep your focus on him, but it was near impossible with the way Bucky was fucking you, clouding your every sense.

A few more brutal thrusts, and you come hard, toes curling, almost blacking out at the intensity. Silent noises escape your open mouth, and your eyes roll as you explode around his cock—your walls viciously pulsating around his length and making a mess all over him. Tears streamed down your face as it became too much, too hard, but you wanted more; you wanted his cum to fill you so badly, so you pulled him in tighter with your weak legs, wanting him to spill his warm seed inside you.

With a heavy grunt, he spurts ropes after ropes of his cum inside you, decorating your walls. His hips snapped rapidly against you as he filled you up to the brim, emptying himself entirely and not stopping until you were both fucked out and satisfied.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl taking all of me.”

He stilled inside once he was done, making a breath of relief and satisfaction escape you, and a deep groan came from him at the aftershocks. He peppers kisses on your clammy neck and collarbone, whispering sweet praises and affirmation after being so dominant and rough with you. You hold him close, nuzzling your face into his short hair as you hum and sigh in contentment at being stuffed full of his cum.

A whimper falls from you as his body leaves yours, leaving you cold, followed by a sob as his cock leaves your used and abused hole, leaving you unfulfilled.

“Look at that, baby,” Bucky was fascinated with his cum trickling out of your quivering hole, ”such a pretty sight.” He collected all of the cum with his tip and pushed himself hard into you again, making you squeal. After giving you a few more strokes, he pulled out, making the cum flow out once more. He gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek, followed by some words that made your breath hitch.

“Stay still, baby. I need to show him.”

He what?

You were still and spread out like he requested, your body too sensitive and sore to move anyways. With hooded eyes, you watch Bucky’s naked behind as he walks away from you and over to the man bound tight in the corner.

Bucky removes the gag from Roman’s mouth, and you can hear him coughing blood and saliva as his voice is freed. He tries to say something, but it comes out as a gurgling sound.

“Did you really fucking think I would let you go unpunished from my club, you fucking filth?”

Bucky’s fist connects with Roman’s bloodied and bruised face—the noise of skin punching skin and the crackling of Roman’s teeth at the force of it is the most uncomfortable sound you’ve ever heard. You shut your eyes tight as Bucky hits him again, and then a last time.

“Did you really fucking think I would let you speak about my wife like that without me having your head for it?”

You still didn’t know what Roman had said to Bucky in the club, but it was obviously triggering. So Bucky had gone to this extent in showing him, and others for that matter, what happens when someone spoke about his possessions.

Bucky removed his restraints and pulled Roman by his hair over to you on the bed—propping him up so he rested on his knees, his bruised face close to your pussy.

You were lost for words at what was happening, at what Bucky was doing. You just closed your eyes tight and hoped that whatever was going to happen would be over soon.

“Look at that, huh. Look at it. Isn’t it so fucking beautiful?”

Bucky was referring to his cum seeping out of your quivering hole—making a beautiful mess.

Roman looked with hooded eyes and tried to say something, but his words came out strained and unclear.

“Fucking LOOK AT IT!”

Bucky yelled in his face. It startled you and made tears roll down your cheek. This feels so degrading… but my God, also so fucking hot at the same time—to have someone being forced to look at your most intimate part that’s just been used and abused and stuffed full of cum.

Roman looks with wide eyes now, well, one at least; the other one is too bruised to open fully. He makes a painful noise as Bucky pulls his head up by his hair.

“This is mine. My pussy,” Bucky spreads your lips, “this is my girl, my fucking wife, and that’s my fucking cum that’s claimed her. You will never ever get to touch her. Touch what rightfully belongs to me. How dare you come into my club and use your filthy disgusting words on my wife, especially after betraying me like that, you worthless piece of shit.”

Bucky tosses him to the ground, his body hitting the hard floor in a loud thud while he groans in pain.

“Shut the fuck up,” Bucky spat at him.

Bucky retrieves his phone from his jacket, and you hear his thumbs moving across the keyboard—typing a message. You’re unsure what’s happening and too tired and slightly traumatised to ask questions.

A few seconds later, there’s a knock on the bedroom door, and Bucky stands with his back, all tall and broad, to you, blocking your body so whoever is on the other end can’t see you fully exposed. Bucky doesn’t care about his own nudity in the slightest.

Whoever entered the room didn’t say anything, but you could hear them come closer and stop by Roman, waiting for Bucky to give them instructions.

“Dispose of him,” Bucky utters in a deep and sinister voice.

“Yes, Sir.”

You hear Roman getting pulled away, never to be seen again, and then a door closes, leaving only you and Bucky in your bedroom.

“Baby.”

His sweet and caring voice was back; his protective and warm touches were back—your loving husband. He cleans you off with his shirt and then cradles your body, making you sit on his lap as he wraps his tender, soft arms around your frame. You nuzzle your face into his sweaty neck, a tired sigh leaving you as his fingers run delicately on your clammy skin, soothing your aching flesh and lulling you to sleep.

“Are you ok, doll?” He takes your tired face in his hands, making you look at his concerned one, searching yours for any sign of stress or discomfort. “Was that too much? Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, doll, you had to see that, to hear that. That I had to put you through that.”

You honestly didn’t know what to say at what just unfolded—too tired and sore to process the whole event properly, but you were ok, for now. You were just happy to finally have your husband to yourself after such a pleasurable and vicious evening. All you wanted now was to fall asleep in his protective embrace.

All worries and questions about tonight could wait until the morning.

“I-I’m o-ok, James, just tired,” you yawn.

“Oh, baby…”

He scoots you up the bed—until you both rest your heads on the fluffy pillows, facing each other.

“... come here.”

You make yourself small and vulnerable as you nuzzle and cling to the embrace of your vicious lover and protector—his arms and legs holding you close. A content sigh breathes through you as your head tucks into his chest; listening to the calming beats of his heart—this was your home, where you wanted to be forever; despite Bucky’s brutal nature at times, you never ever wanted to leave his side.

Bucky’s murderous hands treat your skin like it's the most delicate thing in the world—softly stroking your back, making you shudder and purr in delight. Sweet words of affirmation are whispered against your hair, followed by a hum of a pleasant tune that slowly lulls you to sleep.

The last thing you hear are words that solidify your love and trust for your husband.

“You’re mine, mine only, my everything, and I love you beyond words, my sweet love….”

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

Fuck No sleeping is overrated !

Hands That Heal - Ch. 2

Bucky Barnes x mechanic!fem!reader

Chapter Summary: Bucky knows all about having a past and doesn’t judge you for yours. Series Warnings: 18+ only, canon-typical violence, swearing, fluff, misogyny/degrading comments from some men. (smut will come later) Word count: 3164

Chapters: 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 coming soon

RECAP: “Do I know you?” Axel asked as he pointed the weapon at Bucky. “You look familiar but I know you don’t belong ‘round these parts.”

“Nah.” Bucky smirked, not showing an ounce of fear as he looked down the barrel of the gun. “I’m just here for her hands.”

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

“The fuck did you say?” Axel growled as he stepped closer to Bucky but you moved in to intercept him.

“Ax, I’m just fixing his bike.” You said as you placed your hand on his gun arm and tried to lower it. “That’s all.”

“Not that it is any of your business.” Bucky commented.

You wished he would go back to being quiet, you didn’t understand why he was suddenly talkative but you would certainly ask if you all made it out of this moment alive. For now you had to try to stop your ex from putting a bullet in Bucky’s brain. That goal was getting harder by the second as he glared down at Axel and neither man looked ready to back down from the staring contest.

“You are not helping, Bucky.” You pointed to him before poking Axel in his leather clad chest. “And you, you know better than to come here. Go home to your wife and fix your fucking fence.”

“When did you grow a set of balls?”

Axel sneered at your sudden confidence but there was something about knowing Bucky was there and fearless that gave you the courage to talk to him in ways you never had before.

“Just get off my property.” You sighed and pointed out the garage door. “You’re not the only one with a gun, remember.”

“You’re lucky I’m late for church.” He growled before getting up in Bucky’s face. “You touch my girl, you’re dead.”

Keep reading

To Love the Enemy

Imagine catching the eye of Klaus Mikaelson.

Tagging: @midnightseance​ Author’s Note: So I finally convinced my sister to watch TVD and I’ve been rewatching some episodes with her- specifically the episodes that had the best Klaroline and some of the saddest scenes. This idea spawned from the reawakening of my intense dislike for vampire!Elena. Whoops. Sorry Elena lovers, I don’t think this one will be for you. It’s not total Elena bashing, but I’m not exactly her biggest fan. Warning: Don’t pay too close attention to the order some events are mentioned. I forgot some things and what not. Lmao. 

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Fist of all : HOT 🥵

Second Ihate tumblr and how it refuses to notify my me even though I clicked on the bell for you 😭

Two Minds, One Body || Mafia!Bucky [pt2]

Mafia!Bucky x fem!reader

Chapter Summary: Now that you are a permanent fixture in Bucky and Winter's life they treat you as their queen. Have mercy on anyone who disrespects their queen. Warnings: 18+ only, smut, mafia typical threat of violence WC: 2864

Main Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Part One ||

When you had been asked to pack a bag for a night away, you had thought you were going somewhere further than New York City. The confusion had been clear on your face as your driver parked outside a gated brownstone, but before you could ask why you were there the front door opened to reveal Bucky. His usual business attire had been ditched in exchange for a dark blue cashmere sweater that set his eyes alight and the way it hugged his chest had you itching to run your hands over it.

The only sign that he wasn’t as relaxed as he tried to appear was the crystal tumbler of whiskey hanging from his fingertips and the way his hair tipped to one side, the result of his fingers constantly brushing through the strands. Your driver was at your side and opening the door just as Bucky cleared the gate and you stepped onto the pavement and into his waiting arms. He may have only been gone one day but it was more than enough to have missed his presence at home.

“I’m so glad to see you, doll.” Bucky whispered quietly into your ear as his eyes scanned the street. “Let’s get inside.”

Whatever timeless age the outside held was gone the moment you stepped over the threshold. High ceilings and open spaces were modernised and surprisingly minimalist compared to the decor of the mansion upstate, but it was just as stunning. Bucky’s hand was low on your back as he guided you through the foyer and down a hall to his office at the back. You were suddenly nervous as he closed the door behind you and placed his glass on the mahogany desk.

He dropped heavily into his chair and turned his attention to the wall of glass that overlooked the private backyard and shimmering pool. A tension hung in the air and you were surprised Winter was making his way to the surface as Bucky chewed on his bottom lip and twirled a pen mindlessly in his hand. Suddenly he dropped the pen back on the desk and patted his lap, your movements slower than normal as you tentatively approached him.

“I need your help.”

Whatever you thought he was going to say could not have come close and your lips parted as you took a breath and sat on his lap. “Whatever you need, baby.”

“A warehouse of mine was raided today. There was meant to be an auction tonight.” He said as he tipped his head back and sighed as your hands massaged the tight muscles on his shoulders. “We are sitting on $100 million cash and this auction was how we were going to wash it.”

You didn’t know where he was heading with it as he reached for his whiskey and swallowed the amber liquid back, sucking his teeth as the alcohol burnt down his throat. “I need to know if you were serious when we met.”

You nodded as you remembered what you said in an attempt to hopefully save your life. “You can launder money digitally without losing, I'm sure. I had a lot of time to think of business and criminal ventures when I was trapped in that marriage.”

“I need you to show me how, doll. If I can’t get rid of this cash quick we are all fucked.”

You stood up and turned around so you could sit facing his computer, already bringing up different websites. “You’re familiar with cryptocurrency, right?”

“Some of our overseas partners use it.” He nodded. “We have wallets with Ethereum, Litecoin, Cardino and a few others.”

“Good. What about NFT’s?” He shrugged and you brought up an image that looked like a child had made on Microsoft Paint. “Buying, trading and selling of unique digital media. It can be as basic as this shit or actual art but they are legitimate sales and can be almost completely anonymous with crypto.”

He leant forward to look closer at the website and scanned over the information, his mind processing it efficiently. “I’ll need a few more shell companies, but that's simple enough to do.”

“Buy a few of these cheaper ones and sell them to yourself for a few hundred thousand.” You nodded. “Crypto takes care of the rest, money washed.”

“Set it up.”

“Wait, what?” You gasped, spinning around to see if he was joking.

“This is your baby.” He reclined back with a smile, reaching into his pocket for his phone and wallet. “Get whatever you need to make it happen.”

No one had ever trusted you to do, well, anything. You had just been an item to trade and barter with and now Bucky was treating you as his equal. Sensing your hesitation, he pulled you closer and cupped your face as his lips brushed softly over yours. Your body relaxed in his embrace, moulding into him as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“If you need any help, I’ll be right here.” He reassured you as he broke away, leaving you to catch your breath.

You took a deep breath and nodded, mentally telling yourself that you could do this. You had made a million plans in your head on how to hide money on the off chance you had been able to save some up and escape your previous marriage that you knew you had the idea right, you just needed to execute it. Turning back to the computer you were stopped and Bucky shook his head.

“Start tomorrow, doll. I asked you down here so I could take you out. How does dinner and dancing sound?”

“Sounds like you are trying to court me.” You teased him as you twirled your fingers around the hairs hanging longer at his nape. “I think you are just trying to get me in your bed.”

His rich laugh sent warmth pooling between your legs and his hand trailed up your leg as if he could sense it. “Definitely. In my bed, in my shower, on my desk…everywhere.”

═══════☆═══════

Bucky’s eyes darted around the room that was far too busy for his liking, there were too many exposure points and he had precious cargo with him. Everybody that brushed too close to you had his fingers inching closer to the gun on his hip and you stepping closer under his arm.

“There something I should know?” You asked as you noticed the stiffness that was usually reserved for Winter.

“No, I just don’t particularly like it here.” He said as he continued his survey of the nightclub’s ground floor.

“You don’t like it?” Your laugh briefly pulled his attention away and your hand resting on his chest had his cock twitch. “Honey, you own it.”

“I own half this city.” He pointed out before spotting a familiar face and his eyes darkened to azure.

“Win, what’s wrong?” You asked as you noticed the switch, following his line of sight to your ex-husband. Your evening had been going so well, starting with dinner at Chef’s Table then a few cocktails at Little Branch before heading to the nightclub for some dancing. In an instant the mood was gone. “Fucking marvellous.”

“I’ll deal with him.” Winter said chillingly. “Go with Nico and order a drink while I take out the trash.”

“Don’t take too long, there’s only two names on my dance card.” You whispered as you tiptoed to reach his ear, placing a quick kiss to his racing pulse.

“Kukolka…” he groaned as he fought the urge to take you to his office upstairs and fuck you on another of his desks.

“Sorry.” You said with a soft chuckle.

“No you’re not.” He said before snapping his fingers at Nico to get his attention and leaning down into your ear. “I’ll deal with you later, now go.”

You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you imagined just how he would deal with you and you couldn’t wait. Two drinks later you were squirming on your bar stool. Between the music and the thought of Winter you just couldn’t sit still. Climbing off, you felt the room slightly spin and decided not to finish the half full glass.

“Would you like some water, ma'am?” Nico asked as he watched you grab the bartop.

“I think that is probably a good idea.” You admitted as you tried to act sober and failed.

After a refreshing glass of water you decided to make your way into the crowd filling the dancefloor, needing something to distract you from the absence of you boyfriend. A moment of insecurity hit you as you swayed to the music and you noticed the crowd move away from you. You didn’t think you had stood on anyones toes and the dozens of bottles of perfumes Bucky had bought were mouthwatering so it wasn’t that either. Turning around though, you saw exactly what had sent them spilling to the edges of the room.

Winter’s air of dominance was almost palpable as his eyes roamed your body, you hips begging him to grip them tight as he showed every man exactly who you belonged to. He had seen the way the others had been eyeing you up, and if Nico hadn’t been there to stop their filthy fingers from getting close he would have been splitting his knuckles on another man. He had only just left your ex-husband unconscious against the dumpsters out back, he would have no problem adding more bodies to it.

Your body was burning for his touch as he continued to watch, his chest puffing from the fight he had just had and the sight before him. Holding your hand out, you curled your finger in invitation and his lips teased a hint of a smile that only you could see. To everyone else he looked cold and unfeeling and he stepped closer like he was stalking his prey, this was the deadly mob boss with a reputation of getting his hands dirty. To you, you saw the fire in his eyes and welcomed his touch, your thumb softly brushing the fresh bruises on his knuckles before they came to rest on your hips.

“You started without me, kukolka.” He murmured low into your ear just loud enough to be heard over the music.

Turning in his arms so you could roll your hips and grind your ass over his cock, you leant back into his chest to look up at him with a smirk. “You were taking too long. I had to get your attention somehow.”

You should have known he would be a good dancer, the way he held you close and rolled his body in time with yours should have been illegal. It almost was illegal some of the things his hands were doing but he just stopped short of fucking you on the dancefloor. Just. The build up was leaving you dizzy and you could feel your arousal pooling in your panties with every beat of the heavy bass playing around you. Filth fell from Winter’s mouth between the kisses and sucks he was trailing along your neck and you felt like you could almost reach bliss without a single touch to your needy cunt.

“Win, unless you want everyone here to know how I look when I cum, we need to leave.” You begged as the throbbing between your legs left your chest rising and falling rapidly with sharp breaths.

“Upstairs.”

You could barely keep up as he raced towards the stairs that led to his office above the club and his fingers almost slipped from yours twice before you made it there. His hand was just about to turn the doorknob when Nico shouted over the music. A deep groan escaped his gritted teeth as he turned to find Nico holding his hand over his phone, worry indenting lines across his face.

“Got a situation, boss.”

Winter’s barely audible curse left you hiding the disappointment you felt, knowing your night had come to a halt earlier than planned. You gave him a small smile in return for the apologetic look he was giving you and he held his phone out to accept the call of whoever was on the other line. “This might take a while, doll. Nico, call the car around.”

He was about to head into his office where it was quiet enough to take the call but you pulled him to a stop, stealing your kiss goodnight before he regrettably pulled. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

He bit his lip as your hands trailed down his abs to hover over the bulge trapped in his pants. “Then you’ll deal with me?”

“Oh, doll.” He chuckled. “I’ll do more than just deal with you, I’m going to ruin you.”

═══════☆═══════

You could hear Winter’s angry rock music leaving you a trail of aural breadcrumbs to follow and you found the sound escaping the doors to the gym. Sweat was beading along his forehead as he lay there bench pressing an insane amount of weight, his legs spread wide to balance himself. The ropes of muscles in his arms strained to push the bar back up but still he kept going, so focused on finishing his reps that he didn’t notice you slipping inside.

“I missed you last night.”

You straddled his waist and he locked the bar over the hook so his hands were free to roam your body. You were still in one of his shirts you slept in, the edge riding up your thighs as he looked down to find you weren’t wearing anything underneath. His cock was already straining against the loose shorts he wore and you rolled your hips to sate your need for friction. You had waited up but after the dawn rays broke through the gap in the curtain you gave in to your exhaustion, it must have been important if it kept him out all night.

“Had some shit to deal with.” He tone admitted he missed you too as he felt the heat of your core calling to him.

“I had to take care of myself.” You pouted, reaching up your shirt to tease your nipples. “That’s how much I missed you.”

His chest vibrated with a possessive growl and he lifted you from his lap just long enough to push his shorts over his hips, impaling you with one well aimed thrust.

“Oh fuck.” You cried at the sudden fullness, swearing that you could feel him as your hand pressed to your stomach.

“Show me.” Winter grunted as your feet lifted off the ground with each sharp rut up into you. “Show me how you touch yourself.”

Your jaw went slack with ecstasy and you ran two fingers over his full pick lips until he opened his mouth for them, tongue working around them until they were nice and wet for you. Your heavenly sigh filled the air as you teased your clit and rolled your hips, riding Winter as he laid back and enjoyed the show. Your free hand tweaked your stiff peaks and the residual feelings from the nightclub plus everything he was doing quickly had you falling into your first orgasm.

Your pleasure was like a naked flame, your body the fuse and Winter the explosive. Seeing you ignite sent Winter into action. His large hands splayed across your back and he pulled you down, chest to chest as he took the control back. His hips pistoned furiously into you and your body had no time to recover from the first orgasm, the waves continuing to rippled through you, pussy gushing around his cock and down your legs.

“Fuck, Win, oh god, too much!” You cried as your legs fell slack around the bench and you gave yourself over to him.

“Wanna feel you come around me again.” He panted as he starved off his release to feel yours first.

Your head was shaking, but you couldn’t find the words to deny him as your walls began to flutter and tighten more with every rough pound of his body ramming yours. You tried to pull away as ghostly touches of fire spread over your skin but he took your hands and pinned them behind your back.

“Fuck, fuck, Winter, please.” You begged as tears sprung to your eyes.

“Take it, kukolka, you take it so well.”

You sagged with relief as your pussy began to pulse and he groaned as your body milked his cock, the hot ropes releasing with his heavy breathes that blew cool air across the fire that consumed your body. His hands released the grip on yours and pulled the limp limbs up to his neck so you could play with his hair while you recovered.

“I always liked waking up alone, until now.” You murmured as your mind remained in a cum-clouded haze.

“I wish I could promise that it wouldn’t happen again but our line of work makes it impossible.”

You looked up to see Bucky, his softer touch running soothingly up and down your spine.

“Then I’ll be content with the nights we do have.”

═══════☆═══════

Taglist || Taglist Join Form ||

@jessica11133 @nash-dara @buckyisperfect @itswanktime @slutforsexyseabass @sea040561 @gryffindorqueensworld @honeywithemoney @kenzieam @tsnelf7 @jmeagin-blog @saranghaey @heavenly-rogers

Heeey i wanted to ask you if you could maybe do a Muslim male reader where maybe like they are on a case and hitch tells him to go talk with the victims family and they are like we are not gonna talk to a ter**orist and like the BAU team defending him and like comforting him (if you don’t feel comfortable writing about it don’t feel pressured please)

I am so sorry if this isn't good. I tried to make it as fluffy as possible. Please let me know if I did something wrong! Edited by @mystic-writes

"Mr. And Mrs. Hawthorne?" you ask as the door opens in front of you.

"Who're you?" Mr. Hawthorne asks, glaring at you.

You take out your badge and say, "My name is Agent [L/N]. I'm with the FBI. I'm here to ask you a few questions."

"The FBI is hiring terrorists now?" he asks and you freeze. "I don't want you here to blow up my house!"

He slams the door in your face, and you sigh. You pull out your phone and call Hotch, and after two rings he picks up.

"[L/N]," he says over the phone. "What did you find out?"

"They won't let me talk to them. Says I'm a terrorist and I'm going to blow up their house. Can you send Rossi over? Maybe he can help?" you ask and you hear a sigh on the other end of the line.

"Yeah. Sure. I'll send Prentiss as well," he says, and you nod though he can't see you. "Do you want to come back to the station?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. It would just be nice to have some backup," you say, before saying goodbye to Hotch, and hanging up. You lean against the car you were given, a big black SUV, and you cross your arms over your chest, watching the house. After five minutes you see Mrs. Hawthorne peeking out the window every couple of seconds, staring right at you before hiding again, like she just got caught.

Finally, after only a couple more minutes, another black SUV pulls up and Rossi and Emily get out, walking over to you.

"We heard what happened," Rossi says, and Emily nods, walking over to you.

"Are you sure you want to be here?" she asks, and you nod.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You should just take the lead," you say, and Emily and Rossi both nod, and start walking towards the house.

–

"Hello, Mr. Hawthorne. It's good to see you again," you say as you sit down in front of him, placing a file on the metal table in the interrogation room.

"You can't hold me! I know my rights!" he yells, pulling against the handcuffs holding him to the table.

You shake your head. "You assaulted a federal officer and threatened to shoot me. You're already going to jail for who knows how long, so how about you tell me what I want and we can make a deal."

"I won't negotiate with terrorists!" he exclaims, jumping towards you, but the handcuffs keep him latched to the table.

You jump out of your seat and run out of the room, your breath coming in short gasps as you say, "I'm sorry. I can't do this."

You sit down on one of the chairs outside the interrogation room and put your head in your hands, hyperventilating, when you feel hands on your shoulders.

"Breathe. I need you to breathe for me," you hear JJ say.

You start taking deep breaths in when you feel more hands on you. Looking up, you see Spencer sitting next to you on the other side and you lean into him, breathing deeply as JJ rubs her hand up and down your back.

You see Emily and Rossi walk up, the former with a cup of something and the latter with a plastic bag of crackers, and Derek trailing behind, a sheepish smile on his face. You smile as your breathing starts to even and you reach out, taking what seems to be water from Emily and the crackers form Rossi, downing the cup in three gulps and stuffing a cracker into your mouth. You sigh through your nose as you chew, and watch as Hotch walks over, kneeling down in front of you.

"Are you okay?" he asks and you nod. "I had some words with Mr. Hawthorne. He has now assaulted two Federal Agents, which doesn't look good for him." You frown and Hotch rolls up his pant leg, revealing a bright red splotch on his shin that's probably going to turn into a bruise tomorrow. "Even if he isn't the unsub, we've been able to unearth some… disgusting things from this man's past, with help from Garcia."

You nod and smile, taking his hand as you swallow your cracker. "Thank you, Hotch," you say, before looking at all the faces around you, affectionately. "Thank you, all of you. I really appreciate it."

They all nod.

"Now, I would like to get back to this case and catch this bastard," you say and they all grin. "Also, it's not Mr. Hawthorne."

"How do you know?" Derek asks, massaging his knuckles. He probably punched Mr. Hawthorne and you're not sorry about that.

You smile. "Mr. Hawthorne is a racist, white supremacist. He would never kill white people."

They all nod, and JJ helps you up, and you all get back to work.

Born In Flames || Chapter Two

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Being the daughter of a mafia boss was hard enough growing up. You got out and made a new life for yourself as a bartender only to be sucked in when your old man made a bad deal and he thinks you need protection. Enter Bucky Barnes, your new bodyguard and roommate.

Warnings: guns, shooting, mention of cancer and weed

Word Count: 3,212

Authors Note: And here we see that I have no concept of keeping things nice and easy for a longer than a chapter. Also again, I will say that if you want to be a part of the tag list, either MESSAGE or SEND AN ASK. It’s too hard sometimes to keep up with the notes on things so if you want to secure a spot, do one of those two otherwise you will not be added.

Born In Flames Masterlist

Reblog & leave some feedback!

You knew the moment you got home from work that it was going to be a long….well however long you were stuck with this guy.

Both you and Bucky got up to your apartment and he was quick to lock the door and check outside.

“You can’t spend your mornings on the fire escape anymore,” Bucky spoke as he closed the window and switched the latched to close.

You, already irritated from the whole situation while being tired from work, rolled your eyes and peeled off your boots. “And why is that?”

“Because they sent photos of you sitting out there. Easy shot if they wanted to take one,” Bucky said, crossing his arms as he looked over at you.

“Like I care if I’m shot at. Maybe a dead daughter will teach my dad that his work isn’t the best. You know what?” You turned to him as you threw your hands in the air. “You’re only here because my dad says you have to be. Now I just worked a long ass shift and all I want is a hot bubble bath, my bed, and some fucking wine. Not some guard dog telling me what I can and can’t do. My mornings with Miss Liz are not going to be interrupted because you say so. Now I suggest you listen or else this is going to be a lot harder for you,” you explained, clearly exhausted.

But the look in Bucky’s eye made you want to cower. He let out a deep breath through his nose, looking as though he was trying to restrain himself. “I’m not a guard dog,” he glared.

Then again, you were too tired to care about being scared. “Whatever. I call it how I see it. Now I’m going to go do my thing. Watch tv or go to sleep or whatever it is you do,” you shrugged, leaving him standing in your living room as you went into the bathroom and shut the door.

You stayed in the bath a bit longer than usual, your phone softly playing music as your mind raced with the future and the past.

“But why do we have to leave? I was supposed to go to Marcie’s later for a sleepover!” You whined as your mom packed up a suitcase for you. You were only nine at the time, completely unaware of what your father did for a living. You thought he was just some business man. He was, but in more darker trades.

“I know, pumpkin, but what if I promise that Marcie can come over and stay a whole weekend when we get back? We’ll be at the lake house for a week, that’s all. You know, it’s firefly season. Go get your mason jar and net and we’ll see how many we can catch,” your mother, Charlotte, said. It made her heart ache to see you so disappointed. She had hoped that your life would be somewhat normal but unfortunately being around the mafia would leave your life anything but normal. She tried to make sure you got to do kid things.

Charlotte did, but your father was nowhere to be found. He was always working, always trying to fight some silent war going on. It wasn’t until your early teens that you found out what your father did for a living. You blamed him for everything wrong in your life. How you couldn’t keep friends because he was constantly pulling you away or forcing you into hiding out in the house, how you didn’t get to go to prom or homecoming because you would be an “easy target”.

Somehow you even blamed him for your mother’s death, despite it being cancer. You just felt the need to blame him for every bad thing because it always led back to him. That instance, you could agree that you were being irrational. But the one person who always gave a damn about you was now gone.

A few tears fell from your eyes as you tried to picture her in the good ways. Planting flowers in the backyard of your childhood home, teaching you how to bake cookies from scratch, even helping you sew your first dress that you made by hand. Her smile could light up a room and even with your father’s idiotic ways, she still found the good in him. The good you had yet to see. Sure, he was trying to protect you, but you knew it was for his own benefit, not yours. Frankly you weren’t afraid to die. You realized that as a teen. If you were shot in the middle of some mafia war, then so be it. Maybe then your father would see that his work was more harmful than good.

Wiping your face off with your already damp hand, you sighed. Now you had a bodyguard staying with you, one who seemed like he was at your fathers beck and call. Were you supposed to feed him and keep him entertained? He said he wasn’t a guard dog but right now it felt like you had a damn Cane Corso staying in your apartment. The look he gave you earlier was nothing short of a warning but you weren’t scared.

Also you noticed he had gloves on. It’s the summer, why would a guy wear gloves? Was it so his fingerprint wasn’t pushed around everywhere? But you’ve seen other men work for your father and watch over both you and your mother and they never once wore gloves unless it was winter. It didn’t make sense.

After an hour in the tub and at least one refill of hot water, you got out and wrapped a towel around your body. Collecting your clothes, you left the bathroom and turned towards your room. On the way by the guest room, you heard soft murmurs.

“Yeah…this isn’t gonna be easy, she’s already on my last nerve…I know, sir. I promise she’ll be safe…didn’t see anything today….” Of course he was updating your dad.

Rolling your eyes, you walked into your room and closed the door before locking it. After you dried off, you pulled on a large tee and some pajama shorts. Your stomach growled, realizing that you hadn’t eaten at all since this morning. Glancing at the clock, it was nearly six am. You could wait a while longer, you just didn’t want to see Bucky again. Thankfully a bag of chips and the bottle of wine was still sitting on your nightstand from the night before. It may be warm, but you couldn’t care less.

You dozed off at some point, the bag of chips left on one side of the bed as you curled around a pillow on the other side. You had the day off and you slept in until damn near three pm.

Waking up was easy enough, ready to see if Miss Liz left you cookies. She always knew the days off meant you wouldn’t be out in the mornings. Well, morning for you. So she always left goodies. But then you saw the empty bottle of wine and remembered why you were drinking in the first place.

Sighing, you knew you needed coffee, which meant leaving your room. How were you going to be able to coexist with this guy? His face was the last thing you wanted to see right now. But, nothing was going to stand in your way of your coffee.

Sliding out of bed and running your hands through your messy hair, you slowly walked out. The television was on, a rerun of Criminal Minds playing. You glanced over and saw Bucky on the couch, turning his head to gaze at you.

“Sleep okay?” He asked, though you just ignored him and walked into the kitchen.

Bucky furrowed his brow. He was trying to play nice but you weren’t making it easy.

Apparently Bucky already had coffee, considering there was a hot half a pot left. Grumbling to yourself, you poured some into your mug and walked over to the window. Pushing it open while silently daring Bucky to tell you off, you slipped outside and took a seat on the little pillow you kept out there. Glancing to your right, you saw the little Tupperware and a note.

Hey babe, these are just regular cookies today, kinda smoked all the weed instead. Hope you have a good day! -L

Man, you loved this lady. Popping the top open, you took a cookie and dipped it in your coffee before eating it. Soft chocolate chip with a hint of butterscotch. You are about two more before looking down at them. Four remained, making you sigh. You really had to make this living situation at least a tad lighter.

Taking the plastic bowl, you reached out through the open window without looking back. Rustling the bowl to get Bucky’s attention, you heard the tv mute and boots for the ground.

“What are these?” Bucky asked as he leaned into the open window. Setting the bowl down in front of him, you took another sip of your coffee as you stared out towards the park.

“Cookies, do they not have them where you’re from?” You asked, raising your eyebrow as you looked over at him.

“Yeah but what’s in them?” He asked, of course he has to be the cautious one.

“Stuff you make cookies with. They’re not drugged this time,” you shrugged, leaning back against the brick wall.

“This time?” Bucky widened his eyes. You reached over and grabbed the note, setting it in front of him. He read it over and rolled his eyes. “Pot cookies? Jesus. Get inside, someone could be watching you.”

You glared at him as you stayed in your seat. “Yes, pot cookies. And no, I’m gonna stay out here a little longer.”

Bucky grumbled incoherently and pulled away from the window. Setting the cookies on the counter, he walked over to his coat and pulled out his gun. Sliding it behind him in the waistband of his pants, he returned to the window and climbed out.

“What the hell?” You asked, scooting over to avoid being crushed by his big ass.

“You won’t come inside so I have to come outside,” Bucky said, taking a seat next to you.

You glared at him, knowing he was doing his job but you were entirely annoyed. “Why are you doing this? Why did he pick you and why did you agree?” You asked after a moment of silence while he got situated.

Bucky sighed and crossed his arms, leaning back against the brick. “He chose me because Charlotte hand picked me.”

You lost your breath for a moment, not expecting to hear your mothers name from him. What did he mean that she hand picked him?

Bucky saw your confusion and continued. “I was new to the mafia business. My friend Steve had worked with your dad for a few years and they brought me in. I had just been brought home to Brooklyn after an incident overseas when I was in the army. I was discharged and after a while, I was able to get back on my feet. I started out as just a guard, making sure no one came into your fathers building without us knowing who they were. Charlotte took a liking to me after I helped her a few times with bringing things in and out. We talked for a while and I’m not sure why, but she wanted to make sure I made it in this business. She talked to your dad and he agreed to give me a chance at being more than just a guard. You were a…junior, at the time I think. Your mom loved talking about you, telling me how well your art was doing, how you didn’t want to be a part of this life. She worried about you. And then when she found out she had cancer-“

“Stop.”

Bucky’s words were left hanging in the air as you raised your finger. You couldn’t listen any more, not while you were struggling to not cry. You already did enough of that the night before and you still had a headache from it.

“Just…don’t,” you said, your voice softer than before.

The two of you stayed quiet as you sipped on your coffee, your emotions calming down as the moments passed.

After about ten minutes, you got up and stepped over Bucky before slipping inside. The coffee was gone and your heart ached. Leaving the mug in the sink, you sighed when you heard Bucky step in and the window close.

“Listen, we just…gotta make this work, okay? So you can go back to doing whatever it is you do and I can go back to not being a mafia daughter,” you said as you turned, leaning against the counter.

It caught Bucky off guard but he looked over and nodded. Now that you knew he was doing this because he felt like he had to help since he owed your mom where he was today, you knew she would be disappointed in how you were treating him.

“So I’m assuming my dad gave you money for food and stuff while you’re here?” You asked, to which he nodded. Since Bucky was going to be watching you, your dad gave him a very, very good raise. “Well, I need to go shopping today. I guess you’re coming with. But please, lose the suit jacket. It’s gonna look pretty suspicious when I’m dressed in a tank too and leggings while you look like you’re ready for an important business meeting. Plus, aren’t you hot with those gloves?” You asked, motioning your head towards his hands.

Bucky frowned softly, rubbing the back of his neck with a shake of his head. “Gloves stay, but I can change.”

You raised an eyebrow but shrugged. Walking to your room, you closed the door behind you and decided to keep it simple. Just as you said, a black pair of leggings paired with a dark red tank. Oh how you missed the fall. You threw your hair up in a bun and grabbed your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. Bucky was done before you and you saw how he changed into a pair of jeans and a blue long sleeved Henley. Why did he want to wear long sleeves so bad?

Without questioning him, you grabbed your keys and the two of you headed out.

Shopping was…simple enough. From the things Bucky chose, it was clear he was probably into cooking. By the way your side of the cart looked, it showed that you didn’t cook much at all. At least you had all of the pans and such for him to use. They were all still pretty brand new.

You felt Bucky move closer to your side as you two walked, though you tried to move away. His arm slipped around your waist and that’s when you stopped completely. “What are you-“

His hand gripped your waist, as if to stop you from speaking. “I think we’re being followed. Just walk normally and don’t say anything,” he whispered, slowly taking steps forward and pushing you along with him. You went to look around but he cleared his throat a little before shaking his head. “Don’t.”

You walked alongside him, trying to act normal as if you were just grocery shopping with a boyfriend. Granted, that had never been a thing you’ve actually done. “Is there anything else you need?” You asked, though it had seemed like you two were pretty much done.

Bucky shook his head and the two of you walked to the front near the registers. He put everything on the conveyor belt, including yours to which you were going to stop him but the moment you made a sound, he narrowed his eyes. You chewed the inside of your cheek as he paid for it all, knowing you would pay him back. After everything was bagged, the two of you walked out while his arm moved around your waist again. Sure enough, he spotted the same people he saw before. The two of you put the bags in the car and although you never wanted to be that person, he suggested you leave the cart in the middle of the parking space beside you and drove off.

“Don’t go home,” he said as he pulled the gun out from the back of his pants.

“Why not?” You asked, taking a left turn instead of a right like you normally would have.

“Do you want to lead them to your house?” Bucky looked at you as if you were that dumb.

“They already know where I live. Where should I go?” You sighed.

“Anywhere but home. Just drive around. Go to Jersey for all I care,” he shrugged, turning in his seat and looking out the back window.

You decided to do just that, head towards Jersey. But about twenty miles down the road, a car appeared and Bucky saw that it was the same men from the store. They were coming up quickly and without care, the passenger leaned out and shot at your car. A scream left your lips as the bullet went straight through the windows, swerving slightly.

“Fuck!” You yelled, pushing harder on the gas. Bucky slid into the back seat and proceeded to kick the entirety of your back window out. From there, he had a perfect shot at the men. It was a fire fight back and forth, while you stayed ducked down as much as possible while still being able to see the road. Your poor car was going to be fucked after this.

Bucky got a few good shots in, even managing to knock the gun out of the man's hand and into the oncoming traffic. He could see that he got the man somewhere from the line of blood down the side of the car. The two men decided to retreat and took a side road, heading back to their own base.

You drove for a while before pulling into a parking garage, hiding at a far end. You were somewhere in Manhattan, though you had no clue where. Once you shut the car off, you slowly began to rise up from your crouched position. Bucky shifted and leaned in between the seats, looking you over.

“Were you hit?” He asked, though he didn’t notice any blood. You shook your head, even as your hands shook. You may have had close calls in life with the mafia business, but this took the cake.

The way you looked at Bucky showed your fear. You may not be afraid to die, but then again, you never came that close. In some way, you were hoping that when you did die, it would be quick and painless. Not a car chase with the possibility of being hit.

“My car…” you muttered, your mind buzzing.

“Will be fixed. Are you okay?” He asked, taking your chin with his gloved hand and making you look at him. You hesitated for a moment, though you nodded.

“Get over. I’m driving,” he spoke, letting go of your chin.

This time, you let him.

@crownstealer @borikenlove @bitchassbucky @babyboibucky @buckybarneschokeme @buckys-blue-eyes @vanillanaps @bibbidibobbidibucky @spicynudlesoup @bemine-bucky @suchababie @kbkbb

Killing Time [pt.1]

Bodyguard!James 'Bucky' Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You are the daughter of an underground kingpin, held prisoner in your own home for your protection and only being allowed out when it suits your father's agenda. Things finally start to change for the better when you get a new bodyguard. Series Warnings: 18+ only, there will be smut, violence, alcohol and illegal activities throughout, individual chapters will have warnings. WC: 2686

This is completely AU, Sam Wilson is your head of security and best friend. Helmut Zemo is unfortunately your husband from a failed alliance your father set up. Bucky is the forbidden love interest.

|| Main Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist ||

Knock, knock. You placed the book you were engrossed in face down on the table beside you. You moved the mug of hot chocolate further away from the novel then stood to open the door. A handsome man in an elegant black suit stood with his hands behind his back. It was hard to tear your eyes away from the intense ice blue ones that stared back at you and you could see him run his eyes over your body, making you feel self conscious.

You hadn't been expecting anyone this evening so you were in comfortably loose sweatpants and a singlet. Nervous beneath his scrutiny you crossed your arms over your chest and stood up a little straighter. You looked down the hall and saw your regular guard standing to the side watching the exchange with a small smile and a nod that it was alright.

"Can I help you with something?" You asked the man.

"My name is James. Your father hired me to be your personal bodyguard." He had a very slight accent but you couldn't place exactly where. You would hazard a guess that he had been living here for many years to have lost most of the lilt.

"As nice as it is to meet you James, I am in no need of a guard. As you can see, this prison has an over abundance of armed men." You started to close the door but his boot blocked it and you raised your eyebrow to him but he still did not remove it. Losing patience, you stomped on the wayward appendage and, when he pulled back in pain, slammed the door closed.

Flopping back down on the over padded chaise you grabbed your phone and fired your father a rather brutal message.

Dad: Unless you plan on letting me leave, I don't need any more guards. Just leave me the fuck alone.

You didn't expect a reply. He never did but you did see the sent change to read, at least he opened the message. You tossed the phone down beside you and gathered the worn book to try and get back into the story.

The thought of the piercing blue eyes distracted you and you couldn't concentrate on the mystery thriller anymore. Slamming it closed, you walked to the bookshelf it came from and slid it back into its rightful place. Picking up the remote next, you pointed it to the gas fireplace and turned it off. The warmth in the library dipped quickly as you tidied up after yourself and turned the lights off before opening the door. You found yourself facing the back of James' suit and luckily for him the man moved to the side before you could ask him.

Padding your way through the quiet mansion, you made your way downstairs to the main living area and kitchen. You grabbed two tumblers and the open bottle of vodka from the freezer drawer. You slid one glass across the marble countertop towards James and he didn't say anything as he lifted the glass to his lips. You watched as he pulled a face as he swallowed the fiery jet fuel.

"So you're not Russian. Where are you from?" You asked as he placed the empty glass back down.

He frowned at your question. "Why can't I be from Russia?"

You laughed as you poured yourself another glass. "They drink vodka like water. You don't. So?"

"Born in Romania but my family moved here when I was 10."

You watched the way the man held himself, his perfect posture. He had to be like most of the men your father employed, ex military. You wondered what the man would be like when he loosened up. He had his dark hair pulled back into a tidy low ponytail but you could imagine how it would frame his face if it was allowed to hang free. You tilted your head as you pictured him more relaxed and knew he would be devastatingly handsome. He already looked good now, just too stiff.

You both turned your heads as the front door opened and James’ hand went to his holster until he saw it was your head of security, Sam. Your father seemed to enjoy torturing you by surrounding you with handsome men, with the notion of a painful death to anyone that touched you. Sam was no exception, he was just as fit as the next guard but he had instantly fallen into the friend zone. You both looked at James, amused.

"If someone made it this far into the property, you are probably already screwed." You laughed at Sam's statement because it was true. The property was fully fenced and patrolled by guards and dogs 24/7. You were fucked of someone made it through all that to get in the house.

You grabbed another glass and refilled all the empties with more vodka. Giving Sam his and carrying the bottle, you walked into the lounge and sat on the large plush suite. You laid your head on Sam's lap and he rested his free arm along your side. He had been head of security for the last 5 years but before that he was your brother's bodyguard. He had also been your brother's best friend and when he died, well, somehow the two of you bonded.

You could see judgement in James’ eyes. To everyone else, it looked like Sam was sleeping with the boss's daughter but you weren't, he was just your best friend. He was there for you at the worst time in your life, your mother and father were too busy dealing with the loss of their son they forgot that you had lost your big brother. Now the two of you looked after each other.

"Have you eaten?" You asked Sam as you rolled to look up at him and he shook his head. He was always so busy making sure you and your family were protected that he didn't take the best care of himself. You stood up, feeling the effects of the alcohol on your empty stomach, and collected the empty glasses, putting them in the dishwasher before prepping some dinner.

You made a large serving of creamy chicken penne pasta since you knew Sam would be hungry but didn't know if James would join so you made sure there was enough. You opened the wine fridge and looked along the shelves for the right pairing, deciding on a Chardonnay. You opened it and set it on the island before grabbing three wine stems and yelled to the men that dinner was ready. Turning around you jumped when you found James was already behind you.

"Jesus Christ, remember to buy him a collared bell." You said quietly to yourself but he must have heard as he smirked. You were right, he would be drop dead gorgeous if you could remove the stiff facade, just the smirk alone was able to send butterflies flapping in your stomach.

"Isn't there staff to cook for you?" He asked curiously and you went to open your mouth but Sam beat you to it.

"Sure, she's just too picky. Everything has to be done her way, right?" You squinted your eyes at your friend and threw a piece of pasta at him but the little shit caught it in his mouth and winked back.

"I am not picky, I just don't see why someone else has to do what I can already do. Like you," you pointed at James, "I don't see why I need a personal bodyguard when I can defend myself and I never leave this prison anyway."

The man shrugged insincerely and took a mouthful instead of rebutting. He was paid to guard you, not argue. Sam spent most of the meal talking to James, since they would be working closest with each other it was probably a good thing they got along. You couldn't help feeling a bit left out and jealous that Sam's attention had been stolen. You knew it wasn't like you were going to lose your best friend but the stupid little voice in your head started whispering anyway. After the meal was finished you cleaned the kitchen and James helped since: quote 'the cook shouldn't clean.' You were used to it but it was nice to have some help.

"Are you working tonight?" Sam asked as he popped back into the kitchen and had his phone covered and you looked at the time, 8pm.

"I haven't checked yet. Why?" You asked him but he had already walked away with the phone back to his ear.

"Where do you work?" James asked as he leant against the marble countertop.

"Here. I never leave, remember. I'm a cyber security analyst, for the most part. On the books, people pay me to test their companies security for weaknesses and off the books, people pay me to hack other companies for information or whatever."

Your father in particular made regular use of your skills but he was still the worst criminal by far. James looked impressed and you had to admit it made you feel a bit prouder about yourself.

"Go change, we are going out."

You looked wide eyed at Sam, sure that you had heard him wrong, you hadn't left the compound in almost 6 months. Joy flooded your system and you ran into his arms laughing before running up the stairs towards your room. You skidded to a halt before turning and running back.

"Uh where are we going? What's the dress code?" You didn't want to make an ass of yourself showing up looking out of place, wherever it was you were going.

"Casino. Classy."

He didn't even look up from his phone as he answered so you went back up the stairs. You had mentally walked through all of your outfits before you even got to your room. You knew exactly what you were going to wear, you just had to find it along the long shelves that were full of outfits. You skimmed your hand along each outfit that was wrapped in a garment bag until you found the one.

You quickly changed out of your sweats and into the cocktail dress that hugged your frame, accentuating all your assets. You still had foundation on from the day so you just added some eyeliner and mascara before grabbing a clutch for your phone, ID and credit cards. Lastly, you slipped on a pair of comfortable heels and you were set to go.

"Ready! Let's go!" You could hardly wait, as you were sure they could see.

You watched as James’ eyes ran over your body and felt a flush follow so you looked down at the stairs you didn’t want to trip on. The entire descent was you fighting the urge to look at him and the time you did you found his eyes still very much fixated on you.

"You look stunning, y/n."

You smiled at Sam and his complement as he offered his hand as opened the front door. At the bottom of the steps was one of your father's drivers, Lincoln. He was ancient and you still didn't know how he had a licence at his age. He had been in the family since before you were born, and possibly before your father was too. Ancient.

You wondered what the ploy was tonight. Sam could have driven you in the Escalade but instead you had Lincoln driving the Rolls Royce. Trying not to let the mystery ruin your night you focused on walking in heels. Sam hopped in the front while James opened the door and offered his hand which you took. You couldn't help but notice how good his hands felt and the warmth that ran up your arm. You felt the absence as soon as he removed his hand and had to consciously stop the pout from appearing on your lips.

It only took 30 minutes to drive from your estate to the casino you were going to. The car came to a stop in front of Circus Circus and Sam hopped out first followed by James. You stayed in your seat, there were a hundred options of casinos so why did they take you  here?

"Get out." You shook your head like a spoiled child but you could see Sam was not finding it amusing. "We need your help so please get out of the car."

You slid out from the seat and closed the door loudly.  "I am not responsible for my actions tonight from here. Got it?"

He nodded to you, accepting that much at least. You held out your hand and he placed a thin ThinkPad in your hand. You quickly found the IP of the CCTV for the casino and used a backdoor command line of code to circulate footage from an hour ago. "We are good to go. Yay." You handed the ThinkPad back to Sam with your sarcasm. "You need to take the suit jackets off if you two want to blend in."

They both removed them and put them back in the car before you reached up to James’ collar and unbuttoned the top two buttons before making your way to the front door. When you got inside you made a beeline to the first bar and ordered three shots of tequila before downing them in quick succession. With your nerves settled you ordered a Long Island to take with you to the tables. You needed to be drunk to face what was coming, Sam and James would have to look after you when it got messy.

You led the way to the high rollers lounge and sat in the middle seat of a 21 table. A stack of chips were placed in front of you and the games began. You’d always had a thing for numbers, they came easily to you and were definitive. There was no interpretation like literature, one plus one equals two. You chose to go take maths a step further and count cards so as the dealer dealt the cards you started a running count. When the favour started to build your way you upped the bets and started winning big.

About 30 minutes into playing you saw the floor manager make his way through the crowd. That was your queue to go and Sam started packing the chips into trays and headed to the cashiers. You, however, kept $50,000 and continued to play until you felt the man take the seat beside you with a scowl on his face.

"I'm going to need you to come upstairs please, ma’am."

You raised your eyebrow at the man and rested your face on your palm. “Now, why would I do that? I am comfortable here, thank you. Zemo is more than welcome to come down here if he wants to talk." You patted his shoulder mockingly and the manager quietly made his way back to the doors to the operations rooms.

"Do you think he will come?" You asked Sam when he came back with a bag of money and you packed up the remaining chips to put them in the bag too before heading to the bar.

"He doesn't have a choice. He owes restitution and he knows what happens if he doesn't pay."

You saw James’ confused look but he didn't pry into what you were talking about as Sam handed you the ThinkPad and you ordered another Long Island iced tea. You logged into the device you had slipped into the manager's pocket and placed your airpod in your ear.

“Sir there is a woman in the high rollers that I'm sure was card counting.”

“And..?” Your lip curled at Zemo’s voice. “Why are you bothering me about it, that’s your job.”

“Well she said if you wanted to talk you should go to her.”

You could picture him already, running to the monitors and looking over the footage so you looked at the closet camera and blew a kiss at it.

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*Sees the limo* Me: Nice. *Sees Jake* Me: Nice. Also Me: Someone’s gonna write fanfic involving Jake and the back of this limo and I can’t wait.