Fuck

At this point I’m a @fanficimagery fan page.

But I don’t care your fics are to good for me to not share them

The Alpha’s Sister

Imagine coming home for Thanksgiving break and letting your family know you’re moving back home. Life in Beacon Hills ends up being a rollercoaster, but what a fun ride it is.

Words: 9.3K Author’s Note: Um, excuse me.. but how the hell have y'all let me go so long without writing anything for Derek Hale?! I wrote three books, each book having 77 chapters, and not a single imagine for my favorite werewolf.  Warning for this..? Some violence though it’s not detailed. And Scott’s pack only consists of his inner circle (Stiles, Derek, Lydia and Malia). I wasn’t a fan of the baby beta or his friends.

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@dilemmaontwolegs This! Is so funny to me 😭😭

Safe Place

Summary: You are Bucky’s safe place. Well your boobs are. 

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, mention of boobs

Word count: 317 short but sweet

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

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It all started on a sunny Tuesday. You and Bucky were currently laying on the sofa in the common room of the tower, Bucky was laying between your legs, his hips were on yours pining you down so you couldn’t move, not that you want too anyway. 

It was a bad day today. You knew it was because he was like a lost puppy dog following you around all day begging for his safe place.

And that’s how you ended up pinned under a super soldier, with his face gently nestled in between your boobs while you were reading your book. A comforting silence washed over you both, making Bucky sigh with calmness. His hands trying to go around you so he could be closer, so you arched your back slightly to help him and relaxed when he connected his arms.

You heard a muffled “thank you” causing you to giggle slightly at the vibrations in your chest.

“You’re most welcome bubba.” You whispered, kissing the top of his head as to not disturb the peaceful silence between you both.

It was a little over an hour when your silence was interrupted by the ding of the elevator, causing you to look up from your book to see Sam walking out with his head in his phone.

“Hey.” He greeted, doing a double take. “What is he doing?”

“Hi, Sam.” You greeted back, smiling at him, and then going back to your book. “It’s not a good day today.”

Sam nodded understandingly, hearing a muffled “piss off pigeon” causing him to shake his head as you giggled again from the vibrations.

“Feel better soon, Tin Man.” Sam called before walking away, making Bucky growl into your chest.

“Hey. Less of that.” You scolded playful as he whined, snuggling into your boobs more and sighing happily.

He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

You are Bucky’s safe place.

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Why’s is this soo fucking cute. I fucking love this

Hey can I request Loki x female reader? He’s dating a women but that woman is in it for selfish reasons. Reader is Lokis best friend whos bubbly and friendly and even welcomed his gf. Girlfriend is jealous and angry and demands Loki ends his friendship. The team hear them arguing all the time and reader comes home one night to a real nasty argument. Finds out they’re fighting about her friendship so she thinks Loki will end up putting her aside. So she leaves the compound for a while. Lokis furious and breaks it off with his gf and searches for the reader. Which leads to confessions for both of them.

Loki seems to be the favourite requests at the moment <3 Thank you so much for sending this in, I hope you enjoy it nonnie. I have two more requests warming my inbox, so keep them coming in time for the weekend xxx

Loki’s Masterlist

Confessions || Loki

Warnings: angst, fluff, Loki's pissy girlfriend WC: 3.3k (another fic where I got carried away)

You were practically skipping as you entered the communal floor first thing on a Monday morning, it was so quiet when everyone left for the weekend and there was one person in particular you missed most of all. You came to a sudden stop as you rounded the corner and found Loki leaning against the countertop, wearing only a grey pair of sweatpants that were low on his hips. His eyebrows pinched together as the smile on your face fell and he stood up straight to his full height at the sight.

“Everything alright, love?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” You stammered, planting a fresh smile on your face at his concern, “I just forgot I have archery this morning.”

He didn’t look convinced but then again it was almost pointless trying to lie to the god of lies himself. He was missing the lack of your usual bubbly nature in an instant and placed his mug of black coffee back on the bench. You could barely keep eye contact with him but you usually had no problem seeing him shirtless, in fact he regularly walked around in just his boxers, unabashedly.

“You’re not going to introduce us?” You asked quietly as you drew his attention to the woman he had under his arm.

His lips parted with a silent ‘oh’, as if he had forgotten her presence completely. “This is Charlotte. Charlotte, meet my dearest friend, y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled despite the glare she was giving you. “Are you joining us for breakfast? I’m making Kiki’s favourite.”

“Kiki?” She cocked her eyebrow in distaste. “I can’t stay, have important places to be. See you tonight baby.”

You had tried other variations of his name but they didn’t seem to fit him until you settled on Kiki, and she didn’t have to like it, only you were allowed to call him that. She walked off without even glancing back as you said goodbye and you turned to Loki with a look of concern.

“Are you feeling alright?” You asked, touching a hand to his cool forehead before he brushed it away with a laugh.

“Perfectly fine, love.”

“I probably wouldn’t call me that anymore, I don’t think your girlfriend appreciated that very much.”

His brows furrowed together as he sipped his coffee. “But I have always called you love.”

“And you have always been single, but things change - it just doesn’t feel appropriate anymore.” As much as it hurt you, you hid it with a smile. You would miss the endearment he had used so much you answered to it more than your actual name.

“I don’t want things to change.”

You were already walking out of the breakfast nook and into the more commercial kitchen Tony had installed and began to gather the ingredients for waffles. As soon as the scent began to waft down the hall the doors began to open and the avengers filed out. They were never as excited about Mondays like you were but they did look forward to your cooking, stopping to kiss your forehead or give you a hug as they filled their plates.

“So Loki has some news to share.” You said as you sat down beside him and his hand slipped under the table to grip your knee with a side glance. “What? They live here too, they will figure it out.”

“That you two are in love with each other?” Nat chuckled as she drenched her waffle in maple syrup. “Yeah, we know.”

Your neck was heating up and you brushed Loki’s hand away before anyone saw it before shaking your head. “I don’t know, uh, what you’re on about. Loki has a girlfriend.”

Nat’s waffle dropped from her fork and she barely caught it before it landed on her clothes, her eyes darting between the two of you. She looked over at the others, seeing equally shocked faces before turning back to the two of you. You couldn’t understand why everyone was so shocked. Loki was devilishly handsome, funny and charming when he wanted to be, it was a miracle he stayed single for as long as he did.

“Who is she?” Nat asked, her head tipping to the side as she flipped to interrogation mode.

“A model I believe.” He answered after clearing his throat. “I’ll be honest, there is not a lot of talking when we are in each other's company if you catch my drift.”

Your head dropped at the thought of Loki being in another's company, he was your best friend and it was selfish but you weren’t ready to share him with anyone else. An elbow gently nudged you and you looked up to see everyone staring at you absentmindedly pushing your food around your plate. Shaking the thoughts away you turned your attention back to the conversation and Sam who was watching you closely. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“I asked if you are okay.” He repeated.

Your head nodded but it was all over the place, a nod, a shake, something in between. “Sorry, I was just daydreaming about…something.”

You cursed that you couldn’t think of an excuse before taking your still full plate and scraping the waste into the compost, losing your appetite as you gained their attention. With a quiet goodbye you went back to your room and showered with the hopes the water would wash away the ache growing in your chest. Unfortunately it failed and the pain only increased when you opened the bathroom door and found Loki sitting on your bed, reading one of the books from your shelf.

“Loki, you can’t just come in here anymore, what would your girlfriend think if she knew about this.”

“You didn’t call me Kiki.” He sighed, his sad eyes looking up from the pages. “Why are you pushing me away? Did I do something to offend you, love?”

You growled softly in the back of your throat and wrapped the towel tighter to ensure it didn’t fall off as you sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I’m not pushing you away Kiki.” You reassured him. “But, if I were in her shoes, I know I would hate to find you in these situations. I would be jealous.”

“But you’re my best friend, it’s not like there’s anything going on between us.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded your head. “And you’re my best friend but to her you are a man comfortable in going into a woman’s room while she is practically naked. You have to see how that could be received, right?”

His eyes widened almost as if he only just realised you were practically naked, the  towel just covering your breasts and falling to mid thigh. The green irises disappeared into his pupils before he rose from the bed and almost bowed with an apology before leaving the room. This was not a good way to start your week.

You would like to say the month had improved but four weeks later on a Friday afternoon you were glad most of the compound’s residents were heading to their personal homes for the weekend. Your fingers had cuts all over them from the archery lessons Clint had put you through and you were happy to wave him off as he went home to his family. Walking back inside, you tried to avoid the common room since you could hear Charlotte’s voice and after the multiple run-ins with her each morning your seemingly perpetual good nature was finally reaching the end of its tether.

“There you are, love.” Loki called out as he spotted you sneaking down the hall, his long legs quickly catching up to you. “We were just about to go to the movies, would you like to come?”

You looked beyond him to the pair of narrow eyes glaring at you and you shook your head, wishing he would stop calling you that. “It’s been a long week, I’m just going to go to bed.”

His head dropped in defeat and he missed the time he no longer got to spend with you. “What happened to your hands?”

Before you could stop him, he caught you by the wrists and gently unclenched your fists to see the cuts from the bow string and fletchings. His cool hand was soothing against the inflamed skin and he tutted under his breath that you were working yourself too hard. You only did it because you needed the distraction now that his attention was elsewhere.

“It’s nothing, Loki, just getting used to the new weapon.” You sighed and tried to pull your hand back. “Please, I just want to go to bed.”

You tried to smile but even to you it felt like a grimace and your bubbly tone was as deflated as your soul but he released you from his grip and let you escape. Every part of him wanted to follow you and cheer you up, he was meant to the brooding one and you the bubbly one. It was strange when the scales were tipped, it was almost as if the earth were off kilter and he needed to fix it.

“How about a raincheck on the movie?” Loki asked Charlotte as his eyes stayed fixated on your closed door down the hall.

“Your cancelling date night because of her. Seriously?” She scoffed.

“She’s my best friend, I just want to check on her.” He said as he noticed Natasha’s door creak open along with a few others.

“And I am your girlfriend!” She hissed before composing herself and offering a sweet smile with her palm running down his chest. “Come on, Lo-Lo. Look, Natalie’s here, she can check on whats-her-name for you.”

Loki looked at Nat, pleading with her to play along and she nodded before walking off towards your door, but he didn’t miss the clear message on her face that she was going to be talking to him later about it.

“You know her name, Charlotte.” Loki growled when your door closed again, Nat disappearing with it.

“Do you?” She shot back. “Because you only seem to call her by your little pet name.”

“Not this again…” Loki rolled his eyes and grabbed his jacket, gesturing for her to follow since he did not want to have yet another argument in the middle of the common room. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“Ugh, she really called him Lo-Lo?” You scrunched your face up as Nat recounted the awkward encounter. “I’m surprised you didn’t drop her, Natalie.”

Nat screwed her nose up, not enjoying the moniker she used when undercover, and threw a piece of popcorn at you. She had ducked out to the kitchen, making sure the coast was clear before making two big bowls and bringing them back to your room for a movie night. You kind of felt guilty that you hadn’t spent so much time with her, she was a lot of fun but it wasn’t the same as the movie nights with Loki.

“I miss him.” You admitted as the rom-com ended and the friends turned to lovers with their happy ever after, but you didn’t realise the similarities.

“You should tell him how you feel.”

“I said I missed him the other day and he promised we would hang out this weekend but then she showed up.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” You said as you poured her another glass of the wine she had snuck into the room. “The alcohol is obviously affecting you.”

“Oh, no, no.” She laughed. “I am 100%, I won’t say sober but, clear headed. You and Loki are the reason people say opposite attracts. Just remember that.”

Another month passed and you saw less and less of Loki, his absence leaving you to wander through the compound looking for something to keep your mind occupied. You cleaned the already pristine labs and moved Tony’s tools around so they made more sense to everyone else but him, knowing he would put them all back when he returned on Monday. Finally, enough time had passed that it could be considered an early night's sleep as opposed to an afternoon nap, so you started making your way back to the apartment floor.

“No, Loki, I am so sick of this. Y/n this, Y/n that, Jesus, no one cares about her!” Charlotte shouted as you stepped off the elevator and right into the middle of their argument, catching your name on her acidic voice. “It’s time to decide, her or me.”

The silence was heavy and the sound of the elevator door closing could finally be heard, pulling Loki’s attention to where you stood frozen with tears in your eyes. You knew this day was coming, you had tried to be nice and encourage a friendship with her but she had refuted your every attempt. She didn’t want you in her life and now she didn’t want you in Loki’s. The final dagger to the heart was the apologetic look in Loki’s green eyes.

You had seen more than enough and couldn’t stomach looking into his eyes anymore. Your feet carried you from the room, by passing your sanctuary and hitting the emergency exit. You ran down the flight of stairs and broke out the back door, ignoring the alarms that you set off and you stepped onto the helipad with a scream, the months of pain finally released. There was no way you could look at him again, not after seeing the pity he held for you so you hit the panel on the quinjet and walked up the ramp, grateful Nat and Clint had taught you how to fly it.

There was no mistaking the figure that watched the jet take off, you could always spot him no matter how dense the crowd. Flipping the switch to stealth mode, you buckled up and tried to think of somewhere you wanted to go. The only place you wanted to be was somewhere you were no longer welcome, at least you saved him from having to say goodbye.

The nights were long as you settled into the cabin you had hired. There was no internet and no power, you were completely off grid and only went into the village for food and supplies during the single hour of daylight. The crackle of a roaring fire was the only sound inside and the flames from the central hearth sent shadows dancing along the walls. It was everything you had imagined Lapland would be but you were still feeling empty, the childhood dream to visit Santa Claus’ Village falling short without the person you wanted to share it with.

You had taken a seat beside the fire with a large mug of coffee that also had a generous pour of Kahlua to help ease your mind. You had never felt as alone as you did in the middle of the Finnish winter, thousands of miles from your friends and family, but you figured now was the best time to learn how to enjoy your own company. By the time the mug was empty your belly was warm with more than just the coffee and you forwent the hot beverage on the next refill.

You had just topped up your mug and carried the entire bottle of coffee liqueur with you to the couch when there was a knock at the door. The owner had said no one ventured as far as the cabin, especially not in winter, so you slipped your Avengers issued gun into your hand and approached with caution.

“Don’t shoot me, love.” Loki called through the door and you pressed your palm to the wood debating whether or not to open it but knowing you couldn’t leave him out in the cold.

Sliding the deadbolt across you opened the door and felt the freezing air chase away the warmth you had accumulated from the fire. Loki practically leapt inside before you shut the door and locked it, kicking the snow off his boots and shaking the flakes from his hair before using his magic to rid the rest.

“What are you doing here?” You asked as you watched the blue hue of his skin return to his normal pale shade. “How did you find me?”

“You’re my best friend. I know more about you than I do myself.” He said as he grabbed a woollen blanket and draped it over your shoulders, feeling guilty for lowering the temperature with his entrance. “I would have been here sooner but someone stole the fastest mode of transport.”

Your lips tipped up before you could catch them and he rewarded you with a bright smile of his own. “Charlotte won’t be happy with you.”

“I imagine that is already true.” He said with a shrug. “I broke up with her.”

“What, why?”

“She gave me an ultimatum to choose.” His palm cupped your cheek and you rested your face in the soft touch, having missed it for so long.

“That was her mistake,” you sighed with a small laugh, “no one tells Loki what to do.”

“You’re wrong, love.” His own dark chuckle washed over you as he pulled you closer. “I made my choice.”

His lips brushed against yours so softly that you were sure you imagined the feel of them. You could barely breathe as his dark hair fell around you and the scent you had missed so much set your body on fire, your hands running through the locks and pulling his face back down to yours. You had almost lost his friendship and now you were the one jeopardising it as you kissed him, but he didn’t pull away. The alcohol must have been clouding your ability to think as it felt like forever before you realised what you were doing.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered as you pulled out of his hold, touching your lips that were swollen with his kiss. “I, I shouldn’t have done that. I just missed you.”

Loki was already reaching out for you, seeing the panic starting to rise as your pulse beat rapidly in your neck. “Shhh, love, I’ve been wanting to do that for a very long time. Since we met, actually.”

You were sure you were drunk now, Loki never showed any signs that he had wanted you, he was just naturally a flirt. “No, you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m not, y/n.” His sincerity struck you more than your name falling from his lips. “I should be the one to apologise, for taking so long to see what was clearly in front of me all this time.”

Your head tipped back to keep his eye contact as he stepped closer to you, his body flush with yours. “When you said you made your choice-”

“It’s you. I chose you.” His hands took yours and raised them to his chest, his heart slamming hard against your palms. “It’s always been you. I just hope I haven’t lost my best friend by admitting how much I love her.”

Your vision was blurry as tears welled along your eyes and you shook your head, looking around the cabin in the middle of nowhere yet he found you. “You could never lose me.”

A smile broke his face and he stole another kiss before resting his forehead to yours. “I would go to the ends of the universe, every universe, for you.”

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Born In Flames || Chapter Three

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: Blood, mentions of guns, nightmare

Word Count: 2,526

Authors Note: This one is a little shorter but very progressive! I’m going to say this once more only. If you want to be on the tag list, send me a message or an ask. Otherwise it’s probably going to be ignored because I cannot keep up with notes sometimes.

Born In Flames Masterlist

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The drive home was quiet, aside from your quick breaths. You were curled up in the passenger seat, though you were slumped down a bit with tremors running through your nerves. Sure, you had close calls, but never that close.

Bucky drove both of you home, taking different roads just to make sure the two of you weren’t being followed. He kept glancing over to you every few minutes, quietly reminding you to breathe in deep and try to relax. You tried, you really tried. Little bits of glass from the windshield were beneath you and it was increasingly uncomfortable. Your car looked terrible. Bullet holes riddled the back and hit quite a bit in the trunk.

Once Bucky pulled up to your apartment, he got out as you slowly opened the door. There was slight ringing in your ears leftover from the guns. Walking to the back, Bucky opened the trunk and sighed. A bullet hit the milk, causing it to explode over everything.

“Head inside, I’ll bring these,” he said as you started to grab a few bags.

“Let me help,” your voice was barely a whisper, but he nodded gently. He didn’t want to fight with you. Sliding the rest of the bags onto his left arm with ease, he shut the trunk. Following you up, you made it to your door and unlocked it. Home.

Stepping into the kitchen, you set the bags down and brushed your hair behind your ear to get started putting everything away.

“Ow,” you gasped, pulling your hand away to find a bit of blood. “What the…”

Bucky set his bags down and furrowed his brow. Walking over, he took your chin gently and turned your head. A small stream of blood had begun from the top of your ear and down your neck. Because you were so lost in your thoughts and the wind from the open windows whipping your hair around, you didn’t feel the liquid. Not to mention the adrenaline being so high.

“C’mon,” Bucky said as he took your hand, leading you to the bathroom. Closing the lid to the toilet, he had you take a seat. “Any chance you can tie your hair back? Looks like you got nicked,” he said, handing you a hair tie he found while he searched your cabinet.

You took it and gently put your hair up. “There’s some gauze in the bottom shelf…and some neosporin,” you muttered. So you had been shot. It was small but the fear made it all too real now. You were being targeted and if Bucky hadn’t of been there, you would probably be dead.

Grabbing a washcloth and rinsing it in cold water, he sat down on the edge of the bathtub beside you. Gently he turned your head so he could see it better.

“I’m going to be as gentle as I can, okay?” He spoke, meeting your eyes. You glanced down to the washcloth in his hand, noticing the gloves were still on.

“You’re gonna ruin those,” you mumbled, looking back to him.

Bucky hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out if he should. Shaking his head, he leaned forward. “Just stay still.”

With the gloves on, Bucky started to clean out the wound. Just two inches over and your head would have been a blended shake on the steering wheel. Sure you were lucky, but would you really call this luck? He was gentle, but that didn’t stop the sting as he tried to clean the dried blood away. He even wiped it off from your neck, though there was no saving the collar of your tee.

Setting the washcloth down, he pulled off his right glove, the left hand holding the ointment. He dabbed a little bit on it, thankful the bullet only skimmed the outside. You would have a little scar but nothing too damaging. After, he was able to wrap a smaller bandaid over the shell of your ear to keep hair from getting inside.

You stayed quiet, though your facial reactions showed how much it did hurt. You’d much rather get new piercings five times over before ever doing that again.

Once he was done, Bucky checked your other ear and let his eyes gaze over your body. “Does anything else hurt?” He asked, pulling his hand away from your chin.

You shook your head. “I’m just…I’m okay,” you spoke, your hands fidgeting with each other. “Do you think this is how it’s going to be now? I have to watch over my shoulder everywhere I go? They know where I live. They know where I work. I don’t want to be shot at again,” you said, not able to hide the fear in your tone.

Bucky sighed. “That’s what I’m here for. That’s why I’m a guard dog,” he said, somewhat teasing about the name she gave him. “As long as I’m watching over you, they won’t be able to get close. I’ve been doing this for quite a while, even before I was brought into the mafia. It won’t always be this scary,” he tried to convince you, but it wasn’t that easy. You leaned forward and hid your face in your hands as Bucky frowned. “Listen, go lay down and try to relax. I’ll put everything away, okay?”

You nodded from behind your eyes. Bucky took it as a sign to leave and give you some space. Discarding the trash and tossing the washcloth in the hamper, he walked out and closed the door behind him.

It wasn’t two seconds later that he heard soft sobs. It broke Bucky’s heart. This wasn’t the life your mother wanted for you.

An hour later, after cleaning up and changing your clothes in your room, you emerged and walked out to the couch. Bucky sat in the chair, looking at his phone. You had heard him on a call about twenty minutes ago. Taking a seat, you curled up against the arm and wrapped the blanket around your legs. Your hair was pulled up higher into a bun and you looked comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you could be after a day like that.

“When do you work next?” Bucky asked as he broke the silence. You looked away from the television, away from Gordon Ramsey yelling at some cooks.

“Tomorrow night. I only get one day off a week,” you said softly. He could see how red your eyes were, a dead giveaway to your crying, but he didn’t say anything about it. “I would call in but we’re already understaffed as is,” you added. Work was going to be a lot harder knowing that people weren’t just outside taking surveillance photos anymore.

Bucky nodded quietly and looked back to the tv.

The rest of the night was fairly quiet, though you went back to your room and slept. The adrenaline wore off and your body decided to give in to the tired the shooting left you in. It had been a long, long time since you experienced any excitement like that.

You had one nightmare, one very scary nightmare involving the men who followed you in the store. Only Bucky wasn’t there with you. Running and running, the sound of bullets whizzing past your ears getting closer and closer. You woke up with heavy breaths and tears as the last bullet was hit in the back of your head.

Sleeping wasn’t an option now, you came to realize that. Laying back down in bed to catch your breath, you stared at the ceiling and wiped the tears from your eyes. Everytime you closed them, you saw the faces of the men, the glass on your seat, the guns.

Giving up, you left your room in just a pair of pajama shorts and a tee. It was about five am, a time you usually found yourself going to bed at. Perhaps you’d be able to get a quick nap in before work, but it was a long shot.

Leaving your room, you walked out to find Bucky standing shirtless in the kitchen, right in front of the coffee maker. He was pouring himself a cup but that’s not what held your attention.

Bucky’s left arm was black and gold, taking over the majority of his shoulder. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the kitchen bulb that needed to be replaced, but it looked as if there were scratches where the metal met the skin. He had a pair of dog tags around his neck, remnants of what he used to be.

Bucky turned around and nearly dropped his cup as he saw you. “Oh. Shit. Hey,” he muttered, running the back of his neck with his right hand. “I didn’t think you’d be up this early,” he said. Then he followed your eye line to his arm and he sighed. Setting the mug down, he started to walk towards you to get to his room.

“Wait,” you spoke, gently holding a hand up. “It’s okay. I just…I’ve never seen something like that. Is that…why you had to leave the army?” You asked, though you weren’t sure if it was okay to even mention it.

Bucky stopped in his tracks and sighed. Nodding, he held his palm up and made a fist before letting it loose. “I was trying to save one of my men and a bomb went off too close. He made it out but my arm didn’t,” he muttered. “I don’t show it because I know it makes people uncomfortable. Prosthetics always do. When I sleep, it’s the only time I can be free from those damn gloves and long sleeves.”

You stepped closer, though you didn’t touch. “I’m pretty sure you’re past prosthetics. This is basically a robot attached to you. It’s so advanced. How did you find something like this?” You asked, seeing how the plates shifted slightly as the arm moved.

“Your father has a few friends. It’s linked to my nerves and bones. I even get phantom itches in it,” Bucky watched your face, ready for any sign of disgust. He had been wearing long sleeves and gloves for years now, only ever taking them off when he had to torture someone for his boss. But he saw no disgust, only intrigue. “You can…touch it, if you want.”

You bit your lip and glanced up to his eyes for a second before looking back down. Softly your fingers came up and brushed along the forearm, tracing the gold lining in the middle of the black plates. They slid up to his hand, gently bending his fingers towards his palm before letting them free. Your other hand rested beneath it to hold it up.

“This is…really, really cool, Bucky,” you spoke, flipping his hand over to see the other side. “You shouldn’t hide it. It’s not something to be ashamed of, you know. But…” you let his hand down and looked up to him. “If it helps, you don’t have to hide it in here, okay? If you want to wear the gloves and long sleeves out there, then that’s okay. But I won’t judge it,” you gave him a soft nod.

Bucky stood there for a few seconds before giving a slight nod. He really didn’t expect anyone to think it was cool. He did at first, until he noticed others staring. And in a job like his, he couldn’t afford to stand out.

You walked around him and headed towards the coffee, really needing it now. Bucky turned and watched you walk, amazed by your open mindedness. Two days ago you didn’t want him around and now you were fine with him showing the most hated piece of himself.

You were really something else.

“So…why are you up so early?” Bucky cleared his throat and walked back over to grab his coffee that was starting to cool.

You frowned, though your back was to him, as you poured yourself a cup. “Just…sore. My ear was in pain,” you lied. It was only partially a lie. It ached, but so did your chest from crying and the stress.

“So it has nothing to do with the crying I heard twenty minutes ago?” He raised an eyebrow.

Your shoulders dropped and a sigh left your lips. “I…had a nightmare. Those guys kept shooting and it kept getting closer. Now I can’t even enjoy my favorite pastime of sleeping in,” you groaned as you took a sip of coffee and turned around. “If you heard me crying, why didn’t you come in?”

Bucky leaned against the counter and watched you. “The same reason I didn’t go back into the bathroom after I bandaged you up and heard you crying. Felt you didn’t want me around as a reminder and that you needed space. Plus if you were in real danger, I’m sure you would scream first,” he shrugged.

You leaned back against the counter and huffed. “I’m just…not used to this. The shooting and the near death experiences,” you stared at the coffee in your hands. “It’s not you, it’s the life. The mafia. I always felt different growing up because I always had to be watched. My mom knew I hated it. My dad didn’t care. I lost friends because of this. I can’t go hang out or have sleepovers. Birthday parties were just for my immediate family. Hell, I’m still mad he didn’t take me to Disneyland like he said he would when I was eleven,” you muttered which made Bucky smile slightly.

“You can still go, you know,” Bucky took a sip and you rolled your eyes.

“It’s no fun alone and I don’t think Miss Liz is up for it,” you shrugged. It was apparent you didn’t have friends outside of work.

Bucky was quiet for a few minutes, the only sound being the rain droplets hitting the window. As if your car didn’t deal with enough, now your seats would be soaked.

“After all of this is over, why don’t I take you to Disneyland?” Bucky asked, making you pause as you brought the cup to your lips.

“What?”

“You heard me. Why don’t I go with you? After all, I’m considering us friends since no one else has taken so kindly to my arm,” Bucky tilted his head.

You rolled your eyes, but the sincere look on his face told you he wasn’t joking. “Yeah…sure. But I’m not holding my breath. There is no after this is over in the mafia. There’s brief periods of quiet but it always gets bad again,” you frowned, finishing off your coffee.

Bucky knew you were right, but he had a bit of a plan. At least to make sure you had the chance to find your after in the mafia life.

“Fair enough,” Bucky nodded as you set your cup in the sink.

“I’m gonna try to go lay down again. If um…if you hear me crying again, just come wake me up, please,” you said softly, the end sounding like a whispered plea to save you from what may come from your mind.

“Okay,” Bucky gave another nod and watched as you walked back to bed.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to fall asleep again.

Tag list: @crownstealer @borikenlove @bitchassbucky @babyboibucky @buckybarneschokeme @buckys-blue-eyes @vanillanaps @bibbidibobbidibucky @spicynudlesoup @bemine-bucky @suchababie @rebekahdawkins @sebsbrokentoe @marvel-3407 @acmbooksandfilm @stucky-my-ship @boofy1998 @kaaabiii

Born In Flames || Chapter Seven, Part Two

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

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

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

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

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

Born In Flames Masterlist

Part One

Reblog & leave some feedback!

Bucky was surprised the drive took so long, though he caught glimpses of signs as the headlights hit them. They were still in New York, but definitely not the city. He wondered if Pierce was taking some random route to ambush him, but with a gun to his head, it wouldn’t be a smart idea.

The roads turned into the woods and soon the car was slowly pulling up to a dimly lit cabin. Bucky saw all of the men posted outside and there was no doubt more inside.

“Get out,” Bucky said. They both left the car at the same time, the gun never leaving sight of Pierce. Once he rounded the car, he grabbed Pierce and used him as a shield while the men realized what was happening and approached with their own guns.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Bucky called out.

He didn’t see the man who had just finished taking a piss farther out in the trees, but he heard the soft crunch of twigs and dead leaves beneath his feet. Bucky pulled the gun away for one second and shot at the spot the sound came from.

It seemed his days in battle overseas really aided him. He hit his mark before returning to the men. He didn’t necessarily have a plan for the moment but he knew he had to act fast. Gripping Pierce even harder, Bucky started to shoot each of the men he saw. None of them fired back, knowing it would kill their boss before it ever hit Bucky. Four men down and one in the woods.

“I should say you’re a shitty boss for even leaving them outside in this cold,” Bucky muttered as snow started to fall. Pushing him towards the door, Bucky whispered “knock.”

Pierce did as he was told and before he knew it, Glen/Matthew opened the door.

He reached for his gun but Bucky shot him right between the eyes, though he added a couple more rounds for even betraying his job. Stanley shot up from beside you, your worn out body curled up. It was evident that something had just finished happening within the last hour. Your panties were off to the side and you looked as though you had struggled to shield yourself with the oversized shirt.

Bucky's eyes grew wide as he put two and two together, piecing it all in place. “You sick fuck!” He yelled, causing you to wake with a whimper of pain. You were dazed as Stanley’s body was shot even more, dropping in front of you.

Sitting up, you curled into the couch when you saw Pierce. But then Bucky’s face appeared from behind him and you froze.

“Bucky?” You whispered, your voice hoarse from all of the screaming.

“A whore like her mother,” Alexander scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Bucky quickly turned him around and shot him in the forehead. His body toppled backwards, hitting Stanley’s slightly. He couldn’t stop himself from emptying the rounds into all three of the bodies on the floor. The gun clicked, signaling they were all gone. Tossing the gun to the side, not having to worry about prints due to his gloves, he slowly stepped over the bodies and to you.

You shook, staring as the blood pouring out of the men. “Is this real?” You asked, wiping at your eyes. Your mind would play tricks on you, your dreams sometimes pleasant only to wake up still in the cabin.

Bucky knelt in front of you, gently taking your hands. He looked you over, disgusted at the way the men used you as a punching bag among other things. Pulling off his jacket, he slid it over your shoulders and cupped your face. You winced, your hands moving to rest on his forearms. You stared at him, gripping him as tightly as your weak hands could, hoping that this wasn’t a dream. You couldn’t bear to wake up from something that felt so real.

“I’m here, Angel. It’s real,” Bucky nodded. Glancing around, he furrowed his brow when he didn’t see any pants for you. “Where are your clothes?” He asked, frowning.

You shuddered and shook your head. “They took them away. I don’t…” you trailed off, knowing that they tossed them in the trash early on. They only ever gave you shirts and underwear, and you were “lucky” to even get those, according to Stanley.

Bucky swore under his breath. Grabbing the panties he did see, he slowly helped you into them and got you on your feet. Your knees wobbled, muscles not yet having found themselves. They never did after those times when you were used. Bucky helped you get your arms into the jacket and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m gonna get you home,” he said. Picking you up, he walked out of the house and got you into the passenger seat of Pierce’s car. Chances were that they wouldn’t have called it in and reported it stolen yet. After all, the owner was dead now.

Once he got you in, Bucky quickly rounded the car and got into the passenger seat. Setting the gps on his phone, he set it on the console and turned the heat up. He had felt your body and you were cold as ice.

Quickly he pulled out of the place and headed back towards the city while you curled up in the seat. “How did you find me?” You asked after a few minutes, facing him. Bucky reached out with his hand and you took it, leaning forward and holding it to your cheek. He was so, so warm and you needed the comfort.

“Forced Pierce to bring me there. We’ve been getting all of those videos and photos. When we got the one from today…” Bucky shook his head slightly and stared at the road. “I couldn’t sit by and watch as you were hurt. I was ready to kill anyone who stood in my way of finding you. I didn’t care if I was going to die, I just…I had to find you.”

You listened, pulling the hood up on Bucky’s jacket to hold the warmth in. He knew taking you to your place wasn’t the best option considering they knew where you lived, but you needed to be home. And without a boss, Pierce’s men didn’t have anyone to answer to.

“Michael and I have been trying to find anything about where you were. He’s been signing things over to Pierce just to get you back, but each time one thing was signed over, Pierce would add on another,” Bucky glanced over at you, how puffy and red your eyes were even in the darkness. “Angel…what did they do to you?”

You looked down, though you didn’t pull away. Admitting to what they did was the hardest thing and you never thought you would have to. You were sure that they were going to kill you. Turning the heat up as much as it could, you closed your eyes. “They…used me. Made me do things I didn’t want to. I can’t…” you shook your head as tears started to fall once more.

Bucky pulled the car over and put it in park before turning to you fully. “Shh. I’m sorry. They will never, ever hurt you again. I promise. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’m not leaving you again. Ever.”

You believed him, but you were still scared. Nodding slightly, you took a few deep breaths. He smelled of leather and whiskey, something you didn’t realize you missed until now. Pulling your head back, you looked into his eyes. “You saved me.”

Bucky brushed your tears away with a nod. “I did say I owed you for saving my life, didn’t I?”

You nodded, though a smile didn’t break through. You weren’t sure if you could smile again, but it would come back in time. “Take me home,” you whispered.

Bucky kissed your bruised cheek as gently as he could before pulling the car back onto the road.

Slowly you started to recognize places, knowing home wasn’t too far away. Bucky didn’t pull his hand from yours. He needed to make sure you were there and you needed him there.

The only time he pulled away was when he parked the car outside of Pierce’s house. He made sure no traces were left before leading you to the car he originally drove in with.

The less evidence, the better.

He got you home quickly after that, helping you up to your apartment. When he opened the door, you frowned. It was somewhat messy, though it wasn’t terrible. To-go containers sat on the counter as well as empty water bottles.

“Buck, what is this?” You asked, looking around. “I didn’t have any of this…”

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve um…been staying here. In case any of the men came looking for something or if you found your way back somehow.”

You looked at him with a sigh, moving to wrap your arms around him and burying your face into his chest. His wound was more or less healed, though you momentarily even forgot he was shot. “Stay.”

“As long as you want me to,” Bucky spoke against your hair. “Think you can take a shower?” He asked, knowing it would help you at least a little.

You pulled back slightly. “I think so,” you muttered. Bucky didn’t give you a chance to do it yourself. He led you to the bathroom and had you sit on the closed toilet seat while he started it up. You noticed that his hair had started to grow out as well as his beard, but not terribly long. It was more full rather than the scruff you had gotten used to. Various new items sat on the counter. A toothbrush, some mouthwash, and Bucky even put some of his own body wash and such in the shower. Bucky turned back to you and nodded gently.

“I’m going to be right outside, okay? Call out if you need me. I’ll bring back a towel,” he looked down at you and he now saw the fresh writing on your leg closer than before. Breathing out through his nose, he met your eyes.

You noticed it but nodded anyways, pulling him in for a tight hug, or as tight as you could manage. “Thank you,” you whispered before letting him go.

Bucky kissed your temple and stepped out, leaving the door just slightly ajar to hear you better if you needed his help. Slowly standing up, you peeled off the jacket, shirt, and underwear. You couldn’t bear to look into the mirror, afraid of what you might see. The showers you were allowed to take were short and cold, while this one felt nice and inviting. If this was a dream, it was the most realistic one. You began to wash your hair first, caked in grease and sweat. It took you two run throughs of shampoo and conditioner before you felt clean. Then came the body.

You used the favorite soap that hadn’t been touched in a while, lathering up and washing your skin as hard as you could. That’s when the tears started again. You knew it was your hands, but you got flashes of the men’s hands on you again. You sat down at the bottom of the tub and tried to do it slowly, shaking as your hand ran up your inner thigh. You froze, sobbing as you tossed the washcloth and hid your face against your hands.

Bucky had decided to clean up the trash he left, shoving it all into bags and setting it by the front door to take out later or tomorrow. He usually was a very clean man, never liking to see trash scattered around. He wasn’t even one to have a bunch of items in his place. He only went there lately to get clothes and such. Once he was done, he went into the hallway and grabbed a thick, fresh towel. Knocking on the door, he peeked his head in.

“Hey Angel? I brought you a towel,” he said softly, setting it on the counter. When you didn’t answer, he frowned deeply. “Y/N?”

“Thank..you…” you gasped between quiet sobs. Bucky sighed and walked in farther.

“Do you need anything?” He asked. He didn’t want to open the curtain considering you were naked and even though he had just seen more of you today than ever, he wasn’t going to be that guy.

You hesitated for a moment before answering. “Don’t go,” you spoke.

Bucky moved to sit on the toilet, elbows on his thighs and hands clasped together. “I’m right here, I promise.”

You sniffled and grabbed the washcloth to try washing yourself again. You had to. You had to get the feeling of all of it off of your skin. Biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut, you quickened your pace and scrubbed your skin even more until it nearly burned. Bucky was right outside of the curtain, and you knew he would help you do just about anything, but you were strong, right? You had to do this yourself. Once you felt like you were about to make yourself bleed from all of the scrubbing, you slowly stood and rinsed yourself off once more before shutting the shower off. Peeking out from behind the curtain, you looked down at Bucky and reached your hand out towards the towel. He handed it to you and you wrapped yourself in it before pushing the curtain back fully.

Bucky kept his eyes on your face as he stood. “I know this isn’t what you want but…go sit in bed. I need to take care of the…cut,” he muttered. Neither of you wanted to talk about it, but you knew he just didn’t want it to get infected.

Nodding, you stepped out of the shower and headed to your room. He gathered the items he needed while you got dressed. Your room had been pretty much untouched, though he had no reason to even step foot inside. You pulled on a long sleeve and some shorts, knowing it would be better for him to get to the cuts. Crawling onto the bed, you sighed and tried to allow your heart to settle. You were home whether it was a dream or not. You leaned back against the pillows. Being in a bed felt so odd after six months on a couch or floor.

Bucky knocked on the door and you called out that he could come inside. He stepped in and closed the door behind him, one arm full of items. Gauze, wrap, antibacterial ointment, and he even grabbed a couple bottles of water and an apple.

“I thought you might be hungry. It’s not much but if they haven’t been feeding you, you’ll have to start small,” he muttered as he climbed onto the bed next to you.

Sitting up, you curled one leg beneath the extended wounded one, taking the apple as he handed it to you with a small thanks. He turned on the light on the nightstand to get a better look. “So you don’t need stitches, but this won’t feel good. Just remember to breathe, okay?” He asked. You nodded, taking a small bite of the apple.

Bucky proceeded to clean the wound, though you chewed on the apple to bite back the pain. You were thankful it was still somewhat fresh so it didn’t start to get infected. You had smaller cuts from when they hit you but not enough that would get gross. You focused on Bucky’s face, how his eyebrows knitted together as he focused. He had bags under his eyes and looked just about as tired as you.

“What did I miss?” You asked, needing a distraction. Bucky glanced over to your face before your pleading eyes told him you needed it.

Bucky sighed and looked back to your leg. “Well, Michael has pretty much put everyone through the ringer since he doesn’t trust anyone anymore. Glen had been loyal for years so it’s pretty warranted. Liz keeps giving me her pot cookies but I don’t do that stuff so I gave them to Michael. I guess he likes them, but don’t tell her I’m not eating them. I gave her the excuse that you were visiting family. Well…I gave everyone that excuse. I went to your job and told them how there was a family emergency so you would be out of work for a while. Your aunt was sick and you had to stay and look after her. Duff seemed pretty okay with it but I know he missed you. Michael…really tried to get you back. He was ready to do what Pierce asked and sign over the whole company. I know he’s been a bad father, but he does care about you,” Bucky’s words were softer at the end.

You kept chewing on the apple as you listened, your free hand resting on your stomach. You were happy that Bucky came up with lies so people didn’t worry, though you sighed when he mentioned Michael caring.

“Don’t tell him I’m home yet, okay? I just…need a night in here,” you mumbled, setting the half eaten apple on the nightstand as you groaned in pain when Bucky put the ointment on. He whispered a soft apology but continued. Taking a sip of water, he then applied a bandage and taped it down so it wouldn’t fall off too easily.

Setting the water down, Bucky gathered the items and headed out to put them away. You looked around, somewhat feeling like a stranger now in your own home. For the last six months, you had been put out and made to feel like you were nothing but a hole, a body to torment. Pulling the blanket over your legs, you curled up on your side and glanced at the clock. Five am. A time you used to go to sleep after work was finished. It made your heart hurt.

Bucky appeared in the doorway, chewing on his lip. “You should get some sleep,” he mumbled.

Looking over at him, you reached your hand out and motioned for him to come closer. Once he walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, you took his hand. “Stay with me, please?” You asked, not wanting to be alone. Sure, you hadn’t been alone in months, but you trusted Bucky.

Bucky's heart broke at how scared you looked. Nodding, he squeezed your hand. “Let me go get changed and I’ll be right back, Angel,” he said.

You nodded and let go as he got up, watching him walk out. That nickname was beginning to be your favorite in the world. Your brain drifted off as you waited, trying hard to stay away from the demons that were now going to plague your mind. You didn’t have nightmares much at the cabin, just because they would tire you out by slapping you awake and making sure you didn’t get any decent sleep. Hearing soft footsteps, Bucky walked in and shut the door, having done a check around the home before getting changed. He wore just black pajama pants and a tee. Shutting off the light, he crawled into bed on the other side of you and laid on his side. You turned towards him, the streetlight illuminating his face just enough.

“What’s going to happen now? With Michael and Pierce,” you spoke quietly as Bucky slowly pulled you in and wrapped one arm around your waist. The other slid beneath your pillow, his face just inches from yours. His touch was soft, afraid of breaking you farther.

“I’m not sure. It may be covered up, cleaned up with disappearances and bodies that weren’t found,” Bucky shrugged, which made something trigger in your mind.

“Bodies…Bucky, Pierce has bodies buried around that cabin. He mentioned it the day I was taken there. Who knows how many there are,” you muttered, your hand resting on his cheek as you brushed over his beard.

Bucky frowned and shook his head. “An issue for another day. C’mon, you need sleep,” he whispered, kissing the inside of your wrist. You watched him with soft eyes.

“Guard dog…” you muttered, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. From there, you curled your body against his and tried desperately to relax against him.

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

Born In Flames || Chapter Seven, Part One

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

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

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

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

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

Born In Flames Masterlist

Part Two

Reblog & leave some feedback!

You were cold. Freezing, actually.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

New Years.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was the last straw.

Bucky stormed out despite Michael calling out to him.

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

But Bucky wasn’t the mafia boss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

Born In Flames || Chapter Two

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

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

Warnings: guns, shooting, mention of cancer and weed

Word Count: 3,212

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

Born In Flames Masterlist

Reblog & leave some feedback!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This time, you let him.

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

This is too cute I might just die

Thinking about how all the moms r prolly drooling over mafia steve when he’s out with his daughter and he’s completely oblivious but how would his reaction be when he sees how his wife catches the attention of others (and he gets all jealous) 🫣

those pesky sugar bugs!

Summary: "Thinking about how all the moms r prolly drooling over mafia steve when he’s out with his daughter and he’s completely oblivious" or Steve takes his daughter to the dentist!

in the universe of the super seller patch! & mafia daycare (read before!)

Warning: none!

Pairings: dad!mafia/gang!steve rogers x wife!reader

-

It’s early in the morning as Sabrina adorns her scrubs, watching her son enjoy himself in the small ball pit in the play area of the children’s dentist’s lobby. Kai is four, but this would be his second visit; something he’s enjoyed so far. 

However, the sound of the dentistry’s bell catches her attention and wow. That is not a man you see everyday, she thinks to herself.

Her eyes follow the bewitching man walking through the door with an equally beautiful little girl by his side. Who is he?

Steve Rogers strides through the door holding Four-Year-Old Elysia’s hand as she toddles along with her father. He’s clad in a handsome burgundy suit, his soft hair styled. 

Sabrina wasn’t the only person in the room gawking at the man. Along with the other mothers that sat in the waiting room. The receptionist couldn’t help but stutter over her words at the sight of Mr. Roger’s. His icy blue eyes pierced into hers. 

Y/n was meant to bring Elysia to her clean up, but couldn't at the last minute as something had come up with her mother. But Steve still had work to do, so he’d drop Elysia with you afterwards. 

Steve really shouldn’t have to go through the bullshit of getting checked in, signing a bunch of papers, and waiting some more. He knows many dentists he could call to the house. Even so, his adorable wife has her heart set on Lys growing up with a normal childhood.

Y/n loved the dentist as a child. She loved the gentleness most carried, the gift bags they gave, and the coin you got for the gumball machine that would dispose of tattoos. 

Elysia’s eyes are captured at the brightness of the room and the television in the corners of the room playing Paw Patrol. But as she enters and sees many of the other kids and adults in the room, she can’t help but shuffle herself closer to her father’s leg. And when her father passes his hand over the top of her head, she can’t help but feel a little at ease. 

Elysia is all dressed up in a Moncler cream, ruffle hemmed polo dress; cream Leather Mary Janes; and a rose-gold teddy bracelet she received for her second birthday (from her aunt nutty, apparently natty was hard to say so it stuck) with matching earrings. 

Sabrina finds it inevitable to stare at this man (really an adonis, if you will) as he checks in. His jaw could cut diamonds, his eyes are a charming, intense blue, (exceuse her language) but fuck are his hands nice. He looks like he’s made of the highest bill. No way he isn’t cut up under his dress shirt and tie. 

Fuck. 

There’s a band on his ring finger.. but she can’t stop staring. It’s only innocent, it’s not like she’d ever walk up to a married man. That’s insane. 

Sabrina watches the two take a seat across from her. The little girl is quick to cuddle into her father.

The man points to the play area, most likely asking if she wanted to play. But his little girl is quick to shake her head, cuddling into her father closer as if it was possible.

So, until Sabrina and Kai are called up, the little girl stays on her father’s lap as the man kisses her forehead from time to time, a hand rubbing her back at all times. 

-

Kai is tilted back, maybe about half way done when the man from before is walking behind the receptionist and assigned to a seat right next to them. Sabrina sits up in her chair, across from Kai, when the man sets his daughter in the dental chair, but stands next to her. 

Sabrina thinks she’s going crazy, but her stomach flutters a beat at the thought of him having to sit right next to her. 

“Daddy, I’m afraid,” his daughter looks up at him hesitantly. 

“Awh,” he cooes, kneeling next to the chair. His Amedo Testoni loafers crease, but that’s the least of his worries. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, baby doll, just gonna get your teeth cleaned so they’re nice and pearly,” he nudges her chin, smiling. 

“Remember what mommy said? You’ll get a goody bag for being so brave!” he exclaims to get her excited. 

“Goody bag? Will I get ice cream?”

“We’ll get ice cream afterwards, but don’t tell mom”

She giggles, nodding her head as she stretches her pinky for a pinky promise. Once they’re pinkies interlock, Steve pecks his thumb just as Elysia does.

He knows it isn’t the smartest idea to take her to get ice cream right after a dentist appointment. But those puppy dog eyes that resemble her mother’s, undermine him every time. He’d get her something sugar-free, he decides, as a compromise. 

Sabrina’s heart cries at the scene in front of her. 

-

Closer to the end, the little girl becomes too ansty and tense at the prospect of the sharp objects, covering and keeping her mouth shut at every chance. In result, the man is advised to sit with his little girl during the cleaning to help her get more comfortable. 

Steve does just that: scooping up Lys so she’s sat with her back to his front, as he’s sat up against the dental chair. He wipes her tears and coddles her until she relaxes. 

Parenting hasn’t come easy to Steve, but with Y/n and the endless classes they take together it has. In the back of his mind he thinks about how his father would’ve scolded him for acting like a baby. He loved his old man, but he definitely lacked the empathy any parent should carry. 

“There’s nothing to be scared of, honey, I promise. We just gotta get those sugar bugs out”

“I want my sugar bugs!” She exclaims, muffled from her hands. 

“You don’t want those sugar bugs, baby doll, or they’ll make your teeth ache.”

“Elysia” Dr. Platt says, “Can I show you something?”

Elysia nods shyly. 

Dr. Platt pulls out a toy dinosaur, with a mouth full of plastic teeth and a toy dentistry bag to go with it. “This is Mr. Dino, he’s scared of the dentist too, but he’s learned that going to the dentist is fun.” She pulls out an excavator (what Elysia was initially scared of after getting her teeth brushed.) 

“So this,” she holds up the tool, “Is an excavator, this is what I’ll use to get all those pesky sugar bugs out,” she demonstrates the tool. “Do you wanna try it and see?”

Elysia replies, taking the excavator. She becomes intrigued as she cleans the dinosaur's teeth. 

“You see, it’s really important that Mr. Dino gets all the sugar bugs out because he really needs his sharp teeth to eat… Dad, would you like to try?”

Steve is handed an extra excavator and cleans the toy’s teeth along with his daughter.

Never in a million years would Steve imagine himself playing with a toy to get his daughter comfortable at the dentist. 

Steve has always wanted a family. But he never would’ve guessed it would end up like this, with him being so involved in the life of a precious little girl he spoils the hell out of. And a wife who basically tells him to jump, and he’d be quicker to ask how high. 

There’s no other way he’d have it. 

Sabrina thinks how hot it is that a man that looks so rough, can be so gentle and loving as he plays along with his daughter. The two giggling with each other. 

At some point, the little girl is able to get her teeth cleaned without any trouble. The man takes out his phone (the newest model) to record and take pictures of the whole thing. 

Steve had promised Y/n he would. 

The two kids finish at the same time, surprisingly.  

At the end, Steve sits his daughter up so she’s facing him. He asks to see her teeth and she smiles excitedly and laughs when he acts blinded, “Look at how pearly white they are, almost blinded your old man,” he tickles her tummy and she squeals. 

Sabrina doesn’t know what it is but seeing an attractive, attentive, caring father is the hottest thing ever. 

Before Steve leaves, he’s stood up with Elysia sat on his hip, one arm wraps around her middle while his other hand holds up the phone awaiting his wife to pick up his facetime call. 

When she does, his wife’s beautiful face expands on the screen. 

“Hi baby, hi gorgeous girl! Are you all done at the dentist?”

“Hi mommy!” She waves her palm into the camera then. 

“Let me see those teeth!” You beam. 

She smiles wide! displaying every tooth. 

“Wow! They’re so clean, I bet you got all those yucky sugar bugs out, huh?” 

“Yeah! Look! I got a goody basket” she holds the bag filled with trinkets and dental hygiene items. 

“Very nice, gorgeous! I’m so proud of you,” you blow a kiss through the screen. “Steven,” your voice evens out. 

“Yes, honey” he smiles sweetly into the camera, already knowing what she’d say. 

“I know you, handsome. She just got her teeth cleaned, don’t get her anything too sweet. Please.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll. We’ll see you shortly alright? Love you.” 

“I love you guys, see you,”

“I love you!” Elysia exclaims. When her mother hangs, she turns to her father. "Daddy, can I have strawberry and cookie dough, please?"

"Of course. You can get whatever your little heart desires, sweet pea." he kisses her temple, making way towards the exit.

-

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

His Most Prized Possession

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

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

Word Count || 8876

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

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

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

Mob!Bucky Masterlist

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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….”

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