barry and rafe shipping account only from here on out. they were in love. barry was genuinely afraid of what was happening to rafe. he was pretty much the only one who cared about him
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.
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
A/N: this is how I imagine reader and Bucky from The Fire Within met…
Warnings: fighting, training, swearing
Word Count: ~1k
"You need to rotate your hips more and follow the punch through."
You rolled your eyes at the man Stark had hired to train you. You briefly wondered how long he would last before you followed his advice and hit the punching bag. This was your first training session together and it had been a long day before you had even stepped into the gym on the property. The man hadn't even introduced himself, it was just 'do this, then do that.' He seriously needs some bedside manners.
"What did you do to get relegated to training me?" You asked between hits.
The man just ignored you, focusing solely on your technique.
"Can you tell me your name at least?"
You huffed in annoyance at his preference for silence and took your frustration out on the bag again. After your arms felt like they were going to fall off, you moved to the shooting range and you were handed a heavy Glock 17. You smiled as you imagined your trainer’s face on the target and unloaded the clip into it.
To finish the session, and make matters worse, he joined you on a two mile jog around the compound. Still annoyed that he wouldn't talk to you, other than to give orders, you sped up to get away from him. Unfortunately, his longer legs easily kept up the pace and that just pissed you off more. You looked over to him and he was smiling lazily back, like he didn't have a care in the world so you struck your leg out but the asshole sidestepped making you nearly tripped over yourself.
"Are you done being a brat?" He asked.
"That would depend on whether you have the capacity to hold a conversation."
He didn't reply. Big fucking surprise. Glaring at him, you continued to run. Finally, you went to go your separate ways as you passed the pool, almost back to the start of the track. You looked at the pool, it was cold and grey in mid January, upstate New York and you imagined it had to be less than 50F. You inched closer to the man as you approached the deep end and pretended to stumble, him raising his hands automatically to steady you. Taking the opening, you shoved your hardest into his chest and watched as he fell backwards. His hands flailed as he tried to regain his balance and he almost did but then his heel slipped on the tiled edge of the pool and he was gone beneath the surface.
You laughed and crossed your arms over your chest with a wide grin as the man came up to the surface and quickly pulled himself out. You couldn't help but notice how his wet shirt hugged his body, defining the muscles beneath it.
"Are you always such a bitch?" He hissed.
You laughed at him again, thinking he was either brave or stupid.
"Always. Did no one warn you?” You fired back. “Ready to tell me your name?"
Muttering a string of curses in a language you didn’t recognise, he disappeared inside and you hoped he wouldn’t show at your next session. You weren’t that lucky though.
"Your pattern is too predictable." Your trainer criticised you. "It would be harder for an opponent to take you down if you change your style."
"No one has been able to take me down before." You mumbled as you continued to dance your way around the punching bag, striking out harshly.
"Then they weren't trained well enough."
His words angered you more and you spun around, throwing a wrapped fist to his face. Quick on his feet, he dodged your attack and took a defensive stance.
"Do you really want to do this, doll?" He asked with a smirk you almost found sexy, except it was attached to his face. "I'm not like your friends here, I won't go easy on you."
"I have been waiting for this since I set my eyes on you."
You attacked first. You had been lazy during your training, using the same combos because you wanted him to underestimate you. The tension had been brewing since the pool incident and now it was finally coming to a head.
"If I win, you have to tell me your name." You said between punches and blocks.
"Fine." He smirked as if he had already won. "But if I win, you tell me why you are such a bitch."
You nodded before ducking the arm that tried to pin your face to the mat. You swept your leg out and watched him as he began to fall to the ground. He managed to turn the fall into a roll and quite gracefully came to a stand again. You had to admit the man was a great fighter, maybe even better than Natasha.
Your breath was starting to strain from the workout and now the fight so you knew you had to end it soon. Feinting left, you watched his body quickly react before you grabbed his arm and swung your body up behind his back to land on his shoulders. You wrapped your legs around his neck and tried to ignore the feel of his breath on your skin, the shorts you wore no longer a good idea. Finally you remembered what you were doing before throwing your weight backwards and pulling him to the ground.
Before he could recover, you planted yourself across his waist and pinned his hands above his head. You were both breathing hard and for the first time you saw something other than resentment in his eyes. He actually looked impressed as he stared up at you with his crystal blue eyes.
"James."
It took you a moment to realise he was telling you his name, you had been too distracted by his eyes. He was quite attractive when he wasn't giving you orders.
"James, I would say it was nice to meet you but…" you climbed off him and made your way to the shower room, stopping at the door to see him get up on his knees, “it would be a lie.”
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Oh I am such a slut for Bucky Barnes fuck
summary ─ in this underground bar, you didn’t imagine you’d find a lover. you never imagined you’d find yourself a demon lover.
pairing ─ demon!mobboss!bucky barnes x reader
warnings ─ smut, +18, kissing, biting, rough sex, pet names, dirty talk, oral sex, drinking, sort of fwb relationship, everything that happens in this fic is consented, supernatural creatures
a/n ─ this fic happened bc of a mf called sebastian stan. that flaunt magazine photos are so *drooling emoji*. i’m so sorry. i’m shit at endings lmao. i hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do! thank youu <3333
moodboard for this fic courtesy of @bonky-n-steeb
You were dragged into the Underworld with the excuse of Wanda’s birthday. Your friends had said that they found a way to get in Underworld without a big name pitching in for you and that they wanted to throw a little party for Wanda there. Everyone had agreed because it was the perfect timing. She had been wanting to Underworld, but you couldn’t find a way to do so until now.
Keep reading
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky is concerned that he’s not as romantic as the men in the period dramas that Reader loves.
A/N: This piece is purely self-indulgent and all I can say is that I need Sebastian Stan to be cast in a period drama so I can see him in a puffy shirt. Also Bucky being so soft for reader has my whole heart.
“Oh my god, Buck, this is it! This is my favourite bit!” You said excitedly, slapping his knee repeatedly.
Bucky chuckled at how cute you were before looking up at the screen to come face to face with someone he’d soon deem to be his rival: Anthony Bridgerton.
“And it is not far enough! Do you think that there is a corner of this earth that you could travel to far away enough, to free me from this torment? I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honour; but that honour is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence.
You are the bane of my existence…
And the object of all my desires.”
Religiously, you recited the words with Anthony and then dramatically flopped your head into Bucky’s lap. Your boyfriend smiled at you throughout your Oscar-winning performance and began stroking your hair as your eyes were glued to the screen.
“Isn’t that just… ugh. It’s amazing. If I was Kate I’d have collapsed.” You reviewed, squeezing the remote and humming contentedly at Bucky brushing his fingers through your hair.
Bucky frowned, looking up at the screen again. In all seriousness, he hadn’t really been paying attention to Bridgerton. He had returned from a three week long mission in Mexico in the early hours of that morning. There was barely any time for sleep as he was too excited to see you. He had got into bed and cuddled into you, eager for you to wake up and see he was there. When you did eventually waken, you had pinned him down and pressed kisses all over his face. After ensuring he was unharmed and didn’t have any wounds you needed to tend to, you spent hours talking; catching up on what had happened on the mission and informing him of the latest gossip in the compound.
After the late night and lack of sleep, a lazy Sunday afternoon on the couch with his best girl as she watched her comfort show seemed perfect to Bucky. That was, until Anthony Bridgerton reminded him of his incompetence.
Bucky thought it was so endearing and adorable that you loved period dramas and romance. You were such a thoughtful and kind girlfriend. He’d never felt so loved, even back in the 40s when his family were still alive; even by Steve who had risked everything to save him. You had always been different; you were gentle and always knew exactly what to say. It meant that when you did melt at the words of men in your beloved period dramas, Bucky felt a twang of pain that he didn’t have the same vocabulary or eloquence.
When you had made him watch Jane Eyre, he’d clenched his jaw at Mr Rochester as though he was facing up to a Hydra agent when he said: “I have a strange feeling with regard to you, as if i had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. and if you were to leave, i'm afraid that cord of communion would snap.”
Mr Darcy from Pride and Prejudice was not much better as he confessed his love with: “If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever. If, however, your feelings have changed, I will have to tell you: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love - I love - I love you.” This had Bucky staring at the screen in wide-eyed disbelief that someone could actually formulate those words in their head. Meanwhile, you were cuddled up to him on the verge of sobbing and saying “isn’t that beautiful?”
He had almost sympathised with Mr Knightley when he explained to Emma “maybe if I loved you less, I could talk about it more.” Bucky had related to that one as this is what he felt about you. Finally, one of these idyllic and charming men understood him.
That was until he remembered how you had squealed earlier in the film when Mr Knightley was so overcome with his love for Emma that he’d stripped himself of his jacket and threw himself on the floor in frustration. You had slapped Bucky’s chest at this point with a “how gorgeous is that scene?” Bucky had concluded based on that, Mr Knightley was not on his side.
He almost felt like he was wasting your time. Bucky was far from the romantic, puffy shirt wearing gentleman who had a gorgeous grasp on the English language that you loved so much.
Bucky looked down at you and tickled the back of your neck a little, wishing he could be better. You giggled and shuffled to reposition yourself on his lap, completely oblivious as to how nervous and insecure Bucky was feeling.
*
“Of course Y/N loves period dramas! She is dating a 106 year old!” Sam laughed hysterically. “The girl has a type, man.”
Bucky grimaced at Sam’s remark. “Yeah but I’m not like them. I love her so much but I don’t know how to say it the way they do.”
Sam shook his head and handed his friend a coffee. “Buck, no one does. We don’t speak Shakespeare nowadays.”
Bucky sipped his coffee thoughtfully, digesting what Sam’s words. Whilst Sam was right, Bucky couldn’t help shake the feeling that he wasn’t romantic enough for you. It had been plaguing his mind that week ever since you’d watched it on Sunday. You had left for a mission on Monday morning and his brain had been doing overtime trying to think of ways to improve his romance game.
“Anyway, I don’t think anyone actually did speak like that in those days. It’s a made up story, Buck. Just dig out your old war uniform and show her a good time that way.” Sam playfully winked and Bucky let out a bashful chuckle.
“I think she is more into the puffy shirts kinda thing.” Bucky responded, anxiously playing with his fingers. “Help me out, she comes back from her mission tonight and I want to surprise her with at least something.”
Before Sam could offer any suggestions, he was cut off by Peter, who had been sitting at the kitchen table with his face buried in a book and listening to music.
“I’m studying Shakespeare in English class right now! I can give you a sonnet to read to her.” Peter smiled, taking his headphones off. Sam and Bucky had assumed he wasn’t paying attention to their conversation but were pleasantly surprised to hear that he was.
Sam folded his arms and looked at Peter for a minute. “You know I think the little spider freak is right.”
“Spider-Man.” Peter corrected.
Bucky thought it over, looking between Sam and Peter. He wanted to show you that he could be romantic the way you needed him to be. Whilst the thought of reading out a Shakespeare sonnet made him feel extremely uncomfortable, the possibility of you reacting to him the way you did for your beloved characters was all the motivation he needed.
“Okay, fine. What have you got, kid?” Bucky asked eventually. Peter frantically looked through the papers on the table and landed on one that was decorated with highlighting, scribbling and notes.
Bucky reluctantly took the sonnet and read it over, knitting his eyebrows together in concentration.
“Look at that cyborg brain go. Taking in all that data?” Sam joked, slapping Bucky’s shoulder. “Remember when you read it out to her, you need to show that emotion and passion, that’s what she’ll want.”
“Yeah,” Bucky said with a frown. “Got it.”
*
Bucky smoothed down the puffy shirt he’d bought for the occasion with his vibranium hand. He wanted to dress the part while he read out the sonnet and give you the full experience you had no doubt dreamed of. However, he did think it wise to not share this part of the plan with Sam otherwise he’d never have heard the end of it. The shirt felt a little gratuitous but he was sure you would like it and that was all that mattered.
The super soldier was shaking with anxiety. He could go into dangerous missions stealthily and unfazed. But his nerves were getting the better of him now as he recited the sonnet once more under his breath. Desperately, he tried to inject some passion into his performance but he couldn’t relate to the words in front of him. They weren’t nearly as special enough for you. He cringed at the words but continued to try and memorise them nonetheless.
When you got back to the compound, you wasted no time in rushing upstairs to Bucky’s room. You opened the door, slung your duffel bag off your shoulder and started to remove your tactical jacket before freezing at the sight of Bucky in a puffy shirt. Perhaps you were tired from the mission or just jet lagged but you didn’t question his attire. Instead, you enjoyed the view of your tough super soldier boyfriend wearing one of those romantic and gorgeous shirts that clung to his broad shoulders perfectly.
“Baby, I have to say I have dreamed about you wearing one of those shirts but now I’ve seen it in person… wow.” You took him in for a second before hungrily stalking over and tugging at the shirt. “This was a lovely surprise to come home from a mission to.”
Bucky looked down at what you were doing and moved your hands away, chuckling at you.
“We can do that later, Doll. There’s something I want to say first.”
“Okay, I’m all ears.” It wasn’t until this point that you noticed he was nervous and holding paper in his hand. Bucky put his hands on your shoulders and manoeuvred you so that you were sitting on the edge of the bed and he was standing facing you.
You folded your arms and raised your eyebrow at him expectantly. Bucky inhaled deeply and stared down at the paper. Eventually, he scrunched the paper up and stuck it in the pocket of his trousers. You deserved better than someone else’s words. You deserved him to at least try and use his own.
“Okay, Doll, so the thing is, I know you love it in those period dramas when the hero-“
“I wouldn’t exactly call Anthony Bridgerton a hero, babe.”
“Well, okay, when the main guy makes this grand romantic gesture or speech to a woman. And all I can say is that I don’t know how to use flowery language or where to start with making big gestures. What I do know is that you’re my hero. You’re the best girlfriend I could ever have hoped for, you make me feel so loved and so safe. I love that you play with my hair when I’m anxious. I love that you take care of me when I have a panic attack or a nightmare. I love that you leave me little notes and that you give me gentle kisses all the time. I love you, Y/N. And I wish I was better with the pretty words or the expression of love but I just want you to know I’m trying to be better, for you. All I want to do is make you feel as happy and safe as you make me feel.”
The words replayed over and over in your head as you stared up at your boyfriend who was now shaking like a leaf after pouring his heart out. Yes, it didn’t have the same gallant polish as Anthony Bridgerton or Edward Rochester or Fitzwilliam Darcy; but you didn’t care. Despite what Bucky had thought, he’d actually done the big gesture he had deemed himself incapable of. He had taken something so dear and important to you and paid respect to it by wearing the shirt and trying to deliver a romantic speech to make you happy. It was perfect, truly perfect.
The gesture rendered you speechless which didn’t help Bucky’s nerves. He was quivering, waiting for your response until you got up from your spot and wrapped your arms round his neck, pulling him close. He concluded that this meant you were happy with his speech and started to feel secure again, slowly putting his hands on your waist to ground himself. He buried his head into your neck and pressed some light kisses to your soft skin.
“That was beautiful, Bucky, thank you.” You whispered and kissed the side of his head repeatedly. “You’re more of a romantic than you thought.”
“You think so?” He hummed against your neck, taking in your scent that he’d missed while you were away.
“I know so.” You asserted. “That was the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.”
Bucky couldn’t help but grin and feel proud of himself. He squeezed your waist and pulled you as close to him as humanly possible. You ran your fingers through his hair, massaging little circles in all the spots on his scalp that you knew brought him comfort. Both of you absorbed the moment, slightly swaying from side to side, exchanging I love you’s and other sweet nothings.
“Now,” you chuckled after a couple of minutes and grasped a handful of the material of the shirt at Bucky’s back. “As much as I love this on you, I want it off.”
Fucking hell this is so good !!! Imma die it’s so fucking good
Hello to my favorite writer!!!
I saw that you had time so how about some mafia bucky with like a badass reader and like people are more afraid of her than bucky
And maybe like instead of reader being in danger and bucky coming to protect you can make that bucky is in danger and the reader saves him 🙃
Love you !! 
Ok I love you so much right now, you are seriously fuelling my Mafia!Bucky addiction! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did!
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, blood, violence, murder, smut. (in that order too lmao) this badass reader got real violent in the middle there oops someone woke up and chose violence today WC: 3116
Two men stood arguing in the shadows, watching the man tied to the chair hang limp and unconscious. The Don turned to his Capo and grabbed the lapels of his shirt as he saw the ‘gift’ he had been brought. “What the fuck is this?”
“What you asked for?”
Throwing the smaller man aside, the boss strode out of the dark and slapped the man until he woke. Grabbing his hair, he tipped his head back and turned it to the capo so he could see the crystal blue eyes. “I asked you for the head of his mob, you brought me the Dona's bitch.”
“You fucked up.” Bucky laughed despite his split lip that reopened with his smile. “My girl’s going to take pleasure draining the life out of every single one of you cocksuckers.”
Bucky’s head rocked sideways at the backhand he received and the rival Don’s jewel encrusted rings sliced his cheek. A pained groan escaped his bloody lips but that was the only satisfaction he gave them at his suffering as his fingers pressed the crown of his watch, the movement hidden having by his hands tied behind his back. It was only a matter of time until you arrived.
“We need to move out.” The Don ordered his men. “Call everyone, tell them to get to the casa sicura.”
“It's one woman.” The Capo frowned as he watched his boss’s face pale. “What threat could she possibly be?”
“You obviously don’t know how a lion's pride works, do you? You look at a lion and think he is fierce but the truth is without his lioness he would starve. The lioness hunts, the lioness protects. He is merely there to fuck and please her.”
“Give me some good news.” You snapped as you shrugged your jacket from your shoulders and tossed it over the back of your office chair.
“The tracker in his watch has just come online but it's deep in Little Italy.” Steve, your 2nd in command, updated you as he typed on his laptop.
You dropped into your chair and mindlessly twirled your butterfly knife as you wondered what the Don was up to. He had never been brave enough to outright start a war with you, there had to be something else going on. It didn’t matter, there was nothing to ponder, Bucky had been taken and you would stop at nothing to get him back. Slipping the knife back into your pocket, you opened the cupboards that lined your office and saw the arsenal of weapons waiting for you.
“You’re not seriously just going to go in there are you?” Steve gawked as you pulled on a custom bulletproof vest that doubled as a holster that could fit four handguns plus magazines.
“You’re not seriously just going to let them kill your bestfriend and your boss are you?” You shot back without looking as you checked the magazines were full before shoving them into place and grabbing a rappelling rope.
“Of course not, but you’re indispensable unlike the rest of us.”
Steve joined you and began to arm himself while you monitored your husband's movements, the red blip making its way through Brooklyn. “They’re on the move. Time to go.”
“Woah, we should wait for reinforcements-”
You cut Steve off with a glare and he gulped his suggestion down before following you out of your office and down to the garage. You looked over the array of keys and chose the Rolls-Royce Cullinan since it was the fastest of the armour plated vehicles you had collected. You didn’t bother looking back to make sure Steve was still with you, he either kept up or got left behind, it made no difference to you.
“I can’t believe you have a fucking shield.” You rolled your eyes as he slipped into the passenger seat and dropped it at his feet.
“Better than getting shot.”
The roar of the engine as you hit the accelerator drowned out the degrading insult you muttered and you flew out into the traffic with little regard for anyone else on the street. Red lights, stop signs, angry horns. They all went unnoticed as you raced across the city, weaving in and out of cars so you could get to Bucky as fast as possible. You couldn’t imagine your Italian rivals being gentle on him and the thought of anyone hurting Bucky sent fire igniting in your veins.
Your knuckles gripped the wheel tighter and Steve watched as your jaw clenched. “He’s gonna be fine. I know he’s soft for you but that jerk is still a tough son of a bitch.”
“If they have hurt him, I swear to god the streets will run red with their blood.” You said as you took the break in traffic to look at Steve. “It will be fucking biblical.”
The car fell silent as Steve avoided looking your way. You knew he couldn’t understand your bloodlust, very few people could. It was a man's world and the men only seemed to understand strength through violence. To be a part of their world you had to be more violent, more deadly, so they would see you as an equal. It turned out you did more than just become an equal, your reputation became the whispers of nightmares and rivals began to fear you more than Bucky.
Bucky was the only one who accepted you and loved you for who you were. He never once tried to rein you in like the others or grew jealous of the power your name held, he thrived on it. It was why you would do anything to keep him safe, even if it meant being hopelessly outnumbered in enemy territory. He would do the same for you.
“Park down that alley on the right and we will have to go the rest of the way on foot.” Steve said as Bucky dot stayed stationary inside the industrial building.
You parked in the shadows and shut the engine off, turning to Steve before he could climb out. “I need you to stay here.”
“No way, he’s my best friend!”
“And he’s my husband!” You hissed. “I need you to have the car ready for a quick get away. Don’t make me pull rank here, Rogers.”
He didn’t look happy but he didn’t argue which was the best you could hope for as you tossed him the key and opened the door. “Give me five minutes then move round the block to the front. Unless they have RPGs you should be safe with whatever they fire at you.”
“Should be?” He muttered. “That’s reassuring.”
Your lips tipped up into a smirk at his sarcasm and you stepped out of the, turning back and hitting him with your own. “Guess you could always hide under your shield.”
You quietly closed the door and disappeared up the rusted fire escape, making your way over the rooftops instead of the busier streets below. Spotting an armed guard up ahead, you hid behind a water tower and drew your knife from your pocket. You would have plenty of time to use your guns but for now you didn’t want to announce your arrival.
The steps of the guard grew closer and you heard him humming a tune as he approached, your men would never be so stupid as to do that because it made it too simple to pinpoint when they would be in reaching distance. Your hand flew out, swiping the blade across his throat before he could even react and you grabbed his shirt to pull him away from the view of anyone else, his quiet gurgles stifling the song he had sung.
You froze as you heard another man calling out, assuming he was looking for his deceased amico. You waited ready as before, back pressed to the water tower and knife waiting for its next victim. This time your target was alert for something amiss and his steps were quieter, the sounds eaten by the noise of the city below. You spotted his gun first, peeking around the corner and you blocked the turning body with your forearm before slicing his wrist, the gun clattering to the rooftop as his tendons were rendered useless.
His scream erupted faster than your hand could bury the blade in his throat and you knew your stealth positioning was ruined. Grabbing the rope from where it hung over your back, you tied it around the two men and hooked it into the special clip on your vest. There was no time to second guess your plan as you heard the echoing sound of more than one pair of boots on the metal stairwell of the fire escape. Running across the roof, you ducked as gunshots sounded and leapt over the edge.
The rope burnt your palms as it ran through your fists and you hoped the bodies above stayed where they were before you clenched your grip and came to a jarring stop, your arc stopping before gravity pulled you back towards the building. The stunned face of the Don standing in front of the wide glass pane was almost comical but there was no time to laugh before your feet crashed through. Shards of glass tore at your clothes but you rolled to a stop relatively unscathed and drew two guns as you rose to your feet.
“Kill her!” The Don screamed as he rose from where he had fallen and shuffled his way to the stairs. “Kill the fucking bitch!”
You couldn’t believe this man dared give his soldiers orders but didn’t stay to see them through, he was not worthy of being their leader. Thankfully there weren't many of the soldiers in the room with you, most of his men must have been sent up to the roof and hadn’t made their way back down yet. Three well aimed shots dealt with them but one had managed to hit you before they died leaving your breath winded from where the bullet struck you in the vest.
Chasing after the Don you took the stairs two at a time, putting down everyone that got in your way, and you looked at your watch - 4 minutes and 38 seconds had passed. Finally, you reached the ground floor of the old warehouse and found the Don standing near the exit. Roofing iron lined the walls of the large commercial space and in the centre was your husband, slumped in a chair with slow streams of blood running down his handsome face. Your hand stilled as you looked at the weapon aimed at his head and the smirk on the Don’s face.
“Not so brave now are you, leonessa.” He spat. “Let me go, call this blood feud off and you can have him.”
You could hear the men from the rooftop coming down the last flight of stairs and knew you would be trapped on both sides any moment, you were running out of options and Bucky was starting to stir awake. If you could just see his eyes one more time before you died you would be happy. Suddenly the throaty rev of an engine pulled your attention away from the soldiers about to descend on you and towards the wall that was crumpling under the front of your Rolls-Royce, right beside the Don.
You dropped to your knees as you saw Steve’s window had the barrel of an AK-47 hanging out of it and he opened fire at the capos and soldiers, parking himself between them and Bucky. Your ears were ringing from loud gunshots but you couldn’t cover them as you needed your arms to crawl across the concrete and towards the Don who was pulling himself from the mess Steve’s entrance had made.
“Where do you think you are going?” You hissed as you grabbed his ankle and twisted the already broken limb, revelling in his scream. “This is what you wanted.”
“Please, it was a mistake.” He begged.
“You bet your ass it was a mistake.” You chuckled as your fingers curled around your knife. “One you are going to pay for with your life.”
You were bored of his tears and pleas, your ears already hurting and a headache forming. He was lucky, any other time you might have taken him with you and elongated his torture to appease the anxiety and stress he put you through but you just wanted to get Bucky out of there. You didn’t even take the time to watch his blood pool across the concrete or the colour drain from his face, you were already on your feet and wiping the blood off your knife before pocketing it and limping around your car to Bucky.
“There’s my girl.” Bucky sighed with a smile that cracked the blood that had dried on his cheeks. “Knew you would come for me.”
“Always.” You kissed his cheek gently as you reached behind him and sliced through the ropes that bound him, checking over the burn marks they left behind before helping him from the chair. Steve was already opening the door for you as you supported Bucky and got him settled on the backseat, turning your attention to your 2IC. “That wasn’t the plan.”
“I had to improvise.” He shrugged. “You were right about the armour though.”
“I’m right about most things. Now, get us home and have Dr Banner meet us there.”
You joined Bucky in the back seat and he took your hand as soon as you were in his reach, the familiar calluses settling the adrenaline that had been flooding your system since you heard he had been ambushed. Now that you weren’t high on hormones you were starting to feel the aches and pains of the many small injuries that littered your body.
“You’re bleeding.” Bucky said softly as he pulled the collar of your shirt away to see one of the cuts from breaking through the window.
“So are you.” You reminded as you leant into his touch.
“They barely touched me, doll.” He chuckled. “They were too scared of you to do any real damage.”
His fingers opened the buckles on your vest and pulled the thick layer away, not missing the wince as you moved so he could pull it off completely. Lifting your shirt up he saw the bruise that was already blooming across your ribcage and shook his head, softly placing your shirt back down before Steve looked back in the rearview. He felt terrible that you got hurt for him but knew that it went both ways and if the roles were reversed he would have done the exact same thing, just maybe not with the finesse you had.
“What am I going to do with you, babygirl?” He asked quietly as he kissed his way along your jawline.
“I can think of a few things.” You sighed as his shadow of a beard tickled your skin and your need for him spread faster than the goosebumps over your body.
Your fingers reached out for the control panel on the centre console and the blacked out glass began to rise, creating a barrier between Steve in the front and the back with you and Bucky. You could feel Bucky's smirk against your throat as his hand rose up your thighs in time with the window. Some jazz music began to play and you rolled your eyes at the poor taste both Steve and Bucky shared but you were grateful to have the sound overpower your moans as Bucky’s hands massaged your thighs.
“You get me so fucking hard when you I see you play with that knife.” Bucky teased you with his words and his fingers that were slowly opening your pants. “Seeing the fire in your eyes.”
“Yeah, like this baby?” You pulled the blade from your pocket, catching it with a twirl before running it down his shirt on the blunt side. “Should I just cut your clothes off so there’s nothing stopping me from having you this instant?”
His chest shuddered as a moan expelled on his breath and you watched his tented pants twitch as he enjoyed your teasing. Taking his belt you slipped the knife under the leather and sliced through it before dropping it to the car floor and pulling his pants down his legs. There was no patience left in you, you had to feel him. It was almost more reassuring than just seeing him alive, you wanted to feel his body under yours, his thick cock filling your pussy.
You kicked your own pants off and his hands guided you over his lap, his fingers teasing your entrance and feeling your folds already slick with arousal. He seemed to have as much patience as you did as he pulled you down to spear you with his blunt head, your heads tipping forward as you moaned together. You were careful of the cuts on his face, lacing your fingers in his hair instead and you gently kissed the corner of his lip that was split.
“You take more security now on.” You ordered as you rolled your hips over him.
“Mhmm, anything you want.” He agreed, knowing that you would stop if he tried to argue.
“I’m serious, Bucky. I can’t live in a world without you in it.”
His hands cupped your cheeks and he leant back so he could look you in the eyes, his blue irises blown with lust but still clear as the summer sky. “You won’t have to. Wherever we go, it's together. Hear me?”
You nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to feel every inch of him, needing to have as much of his touch as you could possibly get in the confined space. If your kiss hurt he didn’t show it but you could taste the metallic tang of blood on his lips as your tongue danced with his.
“I love you.”
You panted as your head tipped back, the assault of his tongue on your collarbone sending you head spinning before his thumb slipped between your thighs and added to the ecstasy. Everything felt warm, like the comfort of coming home to a roaring fire on a cold winter’s night and you felt the warmth of his breath on your skin as he replied, tipping you over the edge and into bliss.
“I love you too, doll.”
Taglist || Taglist Join Form ||
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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!
Also this mood board is so hot I couldn’t concentrate while reading the fist paragraphs of two minds one body
18+ | Mob!Bucky x Best Friend!Reader
the adventures of bucky and his little fairy.
recommended to be read in order, but most can be read as standalones.
your best friend, bucky, has done some research about makeup for you. it's imperative that you show him your boobs.
continuation of just let me see them.
request: can you write some with mob!bucky x best friend!reader where he makes her cry and they stop talking for awhile? please make it angsty!!
you have a bad habit of running your mouth when you're tipsy. luckily, your best friend is always prepared to help you out of any trouble that big mouth of yours gets you in.
ex!pietro wants you back, but bucky will never give you up. you're his, and his alone.
the start of the most loving friendship in history.
bucky's high out of his mind, and paranoid about saving you from apparent danger. taking advantage of the fact that he won't recall any of this, you reveal your true feelings to him.
in order to appease his uncle, bucky needs to prove that he's a family man. what better way to get that image across than with a loving wife? there's only one problem: bucky doesn't have a wife. he does, however, have a little fairy.
Imagine it’s a couple days before your wedding and your friends start coming in for your last days of freedom. Only you start having second thoughts, old feelings crop up, and you end up having a breakdown.
Words: 5.1K Warnings: This happens to be an AU with no children and Liz is alive. If a character isn’t mentioned, I’m sorry. I had too many characters already.
Keep reading
Cars! On my screen!! Going in circles!!!