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violentdelightsandviolentends · 3 months

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Honey Girl. Chapter Seven.

chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five. chapter six. chapter eight. series masterlist. the playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. At least, that’s what you and Bucky keep telling yourselves.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption.

Word Count - 4.8k

Author's Note - I can only apologise for the delay on this one angels!! january blues, a crazy work schedule, writers block.. they all came to play at the same time. but chapter seven is finally here!! I hope you enjoy it. thank you for the continued love on this - words can’t describe how incredible it is.

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

“Why aren’t you more surprised?”

Stella simply shrugs, sipping her cappuccino as if she has all the time in the world.

“Babe, with all due respect… I’ve been waiting for you to initiate this conversation for like two months.”

You look at her incredulously, fiddling nervously with a chip in the handle of your coffee cup.

“…Why? How?”

She smiles softly, reaching for your hand across the table.

“You’re miserable.”

You take a deep breath, and then another. After the fifth one, you find the courage to meet her eyes.

“How did you know?”

“Because I know you. You’re a hell of an actress, I’ll give you that.”

“It’s not you-”

“I know. Hey, I know. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“I do.”

She waits for you, patient as ever. You’d be lying if you said the guilt wasn’t eating you up, slowly but surely from the inside out. You feel like you’ve let her down, disappointing the one person who’s given you your dream.

You realise, suddenly, that you haven't told anyone the full truth about everything. Not your Mom, not your Dad, not Lacie. Your Tethering, Bucky, the move to California - all your feelings and emotions over the past how ever many months have been bottled up and stowed away on a shelf, never to be opened. But you have the urge, now, to unscrew the cap and pour it out across the table, regardless of the mess.

So, you do.

"It's not you. You've given me everything I could have ever wanted, Stel, and I couldn't be more grateful. You know that, right?"

She nods, squeezing your hand.

"It's just been hard... emotionally. So, I, the thing is, I just..."

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

"I'm Tethered. I have a soulmate, and he lives back home. We found out literally right before you called me and asked about the business. I couldn't turn you down, I knew that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I couldn't just let it pass me by. I knew we could do this, me and you, together. And I thought I’d be able to cope.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“Being away from Bucky has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. It’s like… I can’t breathe properly without him. Food isn’t as flavourful, colours aren’t as bright, the sun isn’t as warm. The separation is actually having physical effects that I’m not sure I can handle anymore.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“I’ve held out for as long as I possibly can. I was hoping that maybe it’d pass, that we’d get used to it and it’d all wear off. But it hasn’t. If anything, it’s worse than ever. The separation is ruining us both.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re going to tell me not to apologise, but I am. I’m sorry. You’ve given me everything and I’m just… quitting on you. I love this job so much, Stella. I can’t even find the words to describe how much. But I think either me or Bucky will break soon. And I have to prevent that from happening.”

You inhale.

Stella looks at you with so much compassion, you fight the urge to burst into tears.

You exhale.

“Listen to me, okay? You are one of the best damn bakers I have ever met in my life. No one in culinary school even came close to you. I always knew that I wanted you on my team, by my side, in my corner - in the kitchen, and everywhere else. But-"

You chew your bottom lip, wincing when you taste copper.

“We don’t have to be in each other’s pockets. We can be business partners and not see each other everyday. These are the joys of modern technology, babe. We can call, text, video chat, and then schedule in person meetings when we can. If anyone can make a cross country partnership work, it’s us. I mean, come on.”

The weight lifts from your shoulders, slowly but surely. A glowing, molten warmth trickles through your veins, hopeful and real and alive.

“And this,” she picks up your business plan, all printed and pretty. “This is air fucking tight. I’m not saying you picked the wrong career, but… business could definitely be your Plan B.”

You laugh, ignoring the way your voice cracks slightly, still choked with emotion.

“Babe, I was going to franchise the business eventually anyway. Sure, this is a little earlier than I first thought, but why the hell not? We’re successful, we’ve done so well… what’s stopping us? We know we can do this. And I trust you. So much.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, easing your death grip on her hand ever so slightly. “I thought I was gonna ruin everything.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, I promise you. This is a good thing.”

She thinks for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly, she grins at you, nosy and mischievous.

“So a soulmate, huh?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands - but you can’t fight the smile that spreads across your cheeks.

“Yeah. It’s been… complicated.”

“He’s that super hot guy that came to see you, right? The one that looks like he could be a model?”

Laughing, you nod, making mental note to relay this to Bucky on the phone later.

“How did it happen? Was it like, a stranger on the street moment?”

“Nope,” you recall fondly. “We knew each other already. He’s my Dad’s best friend.”

Her jaw drops open, eyes flickering across your face.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit, babe.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s amazing. Shit, no wonder you’ve been under so much stress. What did your Dad say?”

“He… doesn’t know.”

“What?”

“We need to tell him, I know we do, but it’s just so complicated. I’m worried that it’ll change everything, and not for the better.”

It’s been eating away at you, lately. The fact that your parents don’t know originally made perfect sense, but now? It’s been almost a year. You’ve never kept anything from them for that long. Now, you’re worried that you’ll never be able to undo the damage of lying and keeping secrets from the two people you always promised never to do that to.

"Look, I know I'm not exactly qualified to give out soulmate advice, but... you can't change this. It's literally been written in the stars. Your parents will understand, okay? But the longer you wait to tell them, the worse it'll be."

“Yeah. You’re right. It’s just - it’s tough. It’s gonna change everything, forever.”

“But isn’t that the beauty of it? It’s going to change everything, forever.”

You jump out of your seat and wrap your arms around Stella, holding onto her as tightly as you can. She hugs you back fiercely, speaking a thousand words without saying anything at all.

“Proud of you,” she murmurs into your hair.

“For what?” you laugh.

“Putting yourself first. Your health, your mental wellbeing, all of it. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“Love you,” you whisper, fighting back tears of relief.

“Love you too, my baker extraordinaire.”

You sit back down and take a breath, deep and full. Relaxing into your chair, you allow yourself to finally think about the next steps.

“So, I was thinking about going home and scouting out locations. I have that list of places that you read over in the business plan, but I thought of a couple more last night a few miles further out. I’ve pre prepped a few days worth of our best sellers, so you should be good without me.”

“Of course, babe. I’ve circled a couple where I really liked the look of the listings you’ve printed, and written a couple of notes for you to look over - just logistical stuff. Go back home, see your family and your soulmate,” she smirks, raising her eyebrows suggestively, “and just relax. God knows the stress lately has taken a couple years off your life. Please, get those years back on the beach or with your man or something.”

You laugh, shaking your head. She’s right, though. The stress has been resting stagnant in your muscles, tight and wound, making everything harder. You can’t wait to sit on the sand in Bucky’s arms and feel the tension melt from your body.

“You’re the best, Stella. You know that right?”

“So I’ve been told. Many, many times.”

Hours later, Bucky watches you on video call, laptop propped up on the dresser as you pack your bags excitedly. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he picked up, anticipation of the future lighting up his bones.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You show up at your parents house without warning.

You thought about calling first, but decided it’d be much more fun to surprise them. It’s a Friday evening, and you know they’ll both be sat out on the back deck, drinking wine and recapping their weeks. It’s getting warmer on the East Coast, the sounds of spring and summer slowly filtering through.

Your Mom throws open the door, her face lighting up with glee.

“Babygirl!”

She throws her arms around you, rocking you back and forth so forcefully you’re worried you might fall over.

“My baby,” she exclaims, beaming grin almost blinding you. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s kind of a long story. I’ll tell you all about it.”

She grabs your face in her hands, forcing you to look her in the eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You nod, smiling as the setting sun warms your back.

“Yeah, Mama. I am.”

She believes you. For the first time in a long time, you believe you too.

“Come on. Your Dad is gonna be so excited to see you.”

You leave your bags in the car, prioritising seeing the man who’s currently shaking his hips to the soft salsa music that’s playing.

“Nice moves, Casanova.”

He whips his head around, laughing when he sees you stood against the doorframe watching.

“You like em? I need a partner, babygirl! Come on!”

He grabs your hands, pulling you further into the yard so you have more space. You take up a terrible ballroom dance posture with him, cackling as he dips you backwards and almost drops you.

“Don’t kill my baby, please Jack!” your Mom calls from the kitchen window.

She returns with a glass of pink wine in her hand, gesturing for you to come and get it. Your Dad spins you over to her, steadying your shoulders when you trip over his shoes.

“It’s like The Universe knew you were coming to us tonight, darling. We opened the strawberry wine and everything.”

“My favourite.”

You get comfy on the loveseat, sitting across from your parents who are pressed together on the outdoor sofa. The wine is sweet and sugary and exactly what you needed.

“So, what are you doing here, kiddo?”

“It’s a little… complicated. But the good kind of complicated, I think.”

You start at the beginning. Well, almost. You leave out the part about finding Bucky, waiting for him to be with you when you tell that part of the story. You agreed that you’d talk to your parents about your relationship together, and you’re not about to break that promise. You do, however, explain everything else to them.

They listen carefully, nodding and smiling to let you know they’re still with you. When you talk about the difficulties you’ve faced, they wear matching frowns as your Mom fights back tears. Eventually, you sit in silence, waiting for their reaction.

“I wish you’d said something sooner.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just… I thought I could do it on my own.”

“Honey, you never have to go through anything alone. That’s what we’re here for - we’re like, your built in therapists. Both me and your Dad would have happily listened if you’d called us, no matter the time or place.”

“Thank you. Both of you.”

“So this means you’re moving home?”

You nod, trying to contain the excitement bubbling up inside of you.

“Well it’s a good job we didn’t end up renting your apartment, huh?”

“You didn’t?”

“We thought about it, but it didn’t feel right. And we wanted to see you settle down in California first, just in case. I don’t either of us were ready to see someone else in that place. It’s yours.”

“You big softie,” you tease, nudging your Dad with your foot. He grabs it and squeezes, laughing when you squirm out of his grip.

“Well this is a cause for celebration, isn’t it?”

When you were younger, you used to get embarrassed that your Mom would throw parties for everything. Now, it’s one of your favourite things about her. She’s taught you to embrace the joy of the little things in life.

“What are you thinking, Mama?”

“Tomorrow night, a few friends. I’ll make a big paella, we can drink wine, play cards… what do you say?”

“Sounds perfect.”

And it does. The ease of being back home has calmed you down, untied the knots in your shoulders. You feel warmed by love, from the inside out.

You leave your parent’s house, promising to make a dessert of some kind for tomorrow. As you drive away, you suddenly realise that you’re headed in the wrong direction. You’re not going home. You’re going to the person that feels like home.

Bucky.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

He’s waiting for you on his front porch when you pull up.

“Hi, honey baby.”

“Hi, handsome.”

You launch yourself into his arms, savouring the warmth rolling off of him in waves. He smells like fresh linen and sea salt and all your future plans.

“You felt me coming, didn’t you?”

“From a mile off.”

He’s grinning, beaming in all directions.

“Good job it wasn’t a surprise visit, huh?”

“There’s no such thing anymore.”

“Good.”

He grabs your face in his work rough hands, gazing at you as if you’re the sun. You realise, suddenly, that you are. You are the one thing that his world revolves around. And he is yours. Forever.

“You gonna kiss me, Buck, or just stare at me, hmm?”

He chuckles before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh in contentment and pull him closer by his shirt, tilting your head back to let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like scotch and spearmint, a perfect picture of his evening.

“Have you been drinking alone, cowboy?”

“Needed some liquid courage. Knew you’d come by.”

“I make you nervous, huh?”

The filthy smirk written across your face sends electricity crackling across his skin, the hairs on his arms standing up.

“Thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

“You’re really blowing up my ego, you know. I make the Bucky Barnes nervous. Who’d have thought?”

He shuts you up by kissing you again, snaking his hands around your back to plaster your bodies together. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on it slightly.

“You’re letting your hair grow.”

“You like it long.”

You stop for a moment, watching his face carefully.

“Yeah. I do. How’d you know?”

“You pull it more when it’s long. Can feel how much you like it.”

“You’re a menace,” you laugh. “How about you take me inside, and I’ll show you just how much I like it? Unless you wanna give your neighbours front row seats…”

He chuckles and shakes his head before throwing you over his shoulder, laughing harder when you start shrieking. He carries you over the threshold, a beautiful prediction of years to come.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You and Bucky spend the evening in his kitchen with the windows open, watching the setting sun. The gentle ocean breeze flows through the room, tussling Bucky’s chocolate brown hair and glinting off the ice in his rocks glass.

“You want me to come with you tomorrow, when you scout locations? I’ll be your chauffeur, if you like.”

“What about work?”

“I’m the boss, baby.”

“So you keep reminding me.”

He kicks you lightly under the table, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.

“Yeah, Buck. I’d love it if you came with. You can use your contractor knowledge and help me out.”

“It’s a date. You want me to bring my clipboard? Tape measure? Mechanical pencil?”

“You gonna bring your talking machinery too, Bob The Builder?”

Bucky stands from his chair and pulls yours out, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up. He spins you around before putting you down and dragging you up the stairs, kicking his bedroom door open.

He throws you onto the bed unceremoniously, chuckling when you almost bounce off. You toss your shirt at his face, before shucking off your jeans and doing the same thing. He catches them with ease, winking at you before undressing himself.

He crawls up your body, kissing any skin he can find as he goes. He starts at your ankle, before moving to your knee, your thigh, your hip, your stomach, your chest, your neck, and eventually your lips. You’re almost shaking, alive with the anticipation of having every inch of Bucky pressed against you.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he rasps into your ear. “I’ll give it to you. Anything.”

“Just want you.”

“Need to get you ready first,” he murmurs, fingers trailing between your legs. His breath hitches when he feels how wet you are.

“Oh honey,” he groans. “You been like this all night? Hmm?”

“Since I first saw you waiting for me.”

He groans again, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Please, Buck. Just wanna feel you.”

Who is he to deny you when you ask so damn pretty?

“You’re killing me,” he mutters against your skin.

Bucky slides into you with one smooth thrust, biting down on your shoulder as he does it. You shudder at the feeling, and at the thought of having the imprint of his teeth on you later.

You both gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in to you. You loop your legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass to press him even closer.

“Fuck me,” you choke out. “Need it, Buck.”

“My needy girl,” he chuckles lowly. “Gonna give you everything.”

Bucky retracts his hips before thrusting back into you, deep and full. You whine, and he’s convinced the sound will never be matched. It’s like angel song, rose tinted and heavenly.

He fucks you into the mattress, long, slow thrusts that make you want to cry a little. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so connected to him - every single part of you touching his, bodies plastered together and souls intertwined.

He presses open mouthed kisses into the crook of your neck, right into your sweet spot. When he feels you getting close, he dances his fingers down your body and circles your clit, languid but precise. Your back arches as you find your release, clawing your nails down his back and locking your ankles around his hips.

“Oh fuck, honey - fuck.”

Bucky finishes with a shudder, sinking his teeth back into your shoulder. His raspy groans hit your ears just right, sweat dripping down onto your dewy skin.

“Love you, baby. Fuck, I love you.”

You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as you come down from your highs.

“I love you too,” you giggle, pressing kisses to his damp forehead.

He collapses his weight onto you, chuckling when you groan. You push him off so he can lie next to you, strong arm thrown over your stomach as he pulls you in close.

You stay tangled for a while, letting the breeze from the window cool you both down. Bucky traces absentminded patterns across your back, rough fingertips sending goosebumps over your skin.

“I’m excited for tomorrow,” you murmur, keeping the volume low.

“Me too. Feels like a big step for our future, doesn’t it?”

“I just never imagined I’d have… this. You, the job I’ve always dreamed of… it doesn’t feel real. I mean, we’re going to look at places for a second location of my business. Who ever could have predicted I’d say that sentence?”

“Everything works out the way it’s supposed to. I told you that, that night on the beach. Before we knew. Remember?”

“I remember,” you smile, recalling that evening. You’d felt so inexplicably connected to Bucky that day. Little did you know what was to follow.

You fall asleep wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, warm and content.

You’ve never known happiness like it.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The day flies by with Bucky by your side.

You’re a little out of your depth, admittedly. You don’t know much about real estate, or what makes a viable location for a bakery. But Bucky helps - explaining what to avoid, warning signs to look out for, checking out all of the boring stuff like gas mains and water pipes and backup generators. He never patronises you, even when you look at him like a deer in headlights. He clarifies himself when you become unsure, laying out explanations carefully and simply. He’s the perfect right hand man.

“You almost ready, honey?”

“Yeah Buck, give me one second!”

You walk into the kitchen where Bucky’s leaning against the counter, beer in hand. He’s in loose jeans and a linen button up, the white shirt beautifully showing off his tanned skin. He’s got several buttons undone, toned chest peeking through. He looks effortlessly perfect.

You stop in front of him, fixing the buckle on your sandals. You look up at Bucky to find him staring at you, open mouthed.

“You alright, handsome?”

“You look… you look - fuck, you look gorgeous.”

Heat rises up your skin, still so susceptible to his compliments.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he chuckles into your mouth.

Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, pulling you into him. His other hand plays with the hem of your dress, your skin burning where his fingers brush. You kiss him back harder, groaning when he nips at your bottom lip. He sucks on your tongue, and your knees buckle.

You pull back suddenly, putting three feet of distance between you.

“We need to go.”

Your hair is tousled, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you try to regain your composure. Bucky smirks at you, laughing when you flip him off.

“Come on. My parents and paella await us.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Your Mom has done it again.

Golden lights adorn the beams of the deck, the table littered with flowers and wine glasses begging to be filled. There’s already a few people scattered around the yard, chatting and laughing in the warm evening air.

“Oh baby, you look so beautiful.”

Your Mom engulfs you in a hug, pulling back to look at you from a distance. You’re wearing a yellow sundress, form fitting in all the right places. The skirt blows in the gentle breeze, fanning around you like an angels halo.

“This place looks amazing, Mama. I made you a tropical tart - it’s pineapple and coconut, with a mango coulis.”

“Oh, it’s gorgeous. I’ll put it in the fridge and get you some wine, honey. Buck, you want wine or beer?”

“Wine, please Lori. You need a hand?”

“If you’re offering,” she winks, laughing when he pokes her in the side as they leave towards the kitchen.

“Your father says you’re moving back home.”

You turn around to see Cora looking at you expectantly. You haven’t seen her since the incident that evening months ago.

“Uh, yeah. I love California, but I think I outgrew it after culinary school.”

She nods at you in faux sympathy, overbearing and sickly sweet.

“Aw, sweetie. Sometimes, things just don’t work out the way we hoped, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you hum noncommittally. “Yeah, I guess.”

You look for an exit, but she rubs your arm in support, pulling you back.

“I saw you today, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes! Down on Maple, by the corner. You were with Bucky.”

You freeze suddenly, blood running cold. You and Bucky are always affectionate, whether you mean to be or not. It’s just the way it is, being alongside your soulmate. Of course, Cora doesn’t know this. All she’s seen is you, out in town with your Dad’s best friend, looking cosier than platonic.

Your ears are ringing. You wonder, for a second, if you’re experiencing deja vu.

“Yeah, he… he has contracting experience. Just needed a second opinion. I’m no builder, after all.”

You force a laugh, willing the ground to swallow you up.

“You two are friends? You seem pretty close.”

She’s watching you, waiting for a reaction. You don’t give it to her.

“I’ve known him for a while, I see him often. He’s a good friend to my Dad, so you can imagine we know each other pretty well by now.”

“Yeah. It sure looked like it.”

You’re wracking your brain, trying to understand what she saw. Then it hits you.

On the corner of Maple is a florist’s, alive with blooming flowers and plants of every colour. You’d been admiring the tulips when Bucky had wrapped his arms around you from behind, whispering in your ear about how you’re the prettiest flower of all, honey.

There’s no running away from this. She’s caught you, in broad daylight.

“We’re friends,” you reiterate, praying for mercy.

You shoot her a fake smile before turning on your heel, making a beeline for the kitchen to find your Mom. When you get there, you gulp down your entire glass of strawberry wine, begging the sugar to lift your mood and calm your nerves.

The rest of the night goes off fairly smoothly.

You eat paella and fruit tart, drink wine, laugh with your parents and their friends. Bucky occasionally slips a hand beneath the table, squeezing your thigh in silent reassurance. You tangle your fingers with his for a moment before letting go, praying everyone else is none the wiser.

Every time Cora opens her mouth, your chest constricts a little. But she seems to have learnt her lesson somewhat, only speaking to tell obnoxiously long and tangent filled stories and offer comments no one asked for. Eventually, you all disperse from the table, making conversation elsewhere.

“What’s on your mind?” a low voice rasps in your ear.

You’re sat on the swing in the corner of the garden, watching the world go by. Bucky snakes his arm over the back of it, fingertips brushing your shoulder.

“Cora saw us today. Think she knows.”

“She’s a fucking nuisance.”

You laugh, the sound vibrating through Bucky’s bones.

“Yeah, she is. She’s also a gossip. She won’t keep her mouth shut for long if she thinks she’s sitting on something newsworthy.”

He thinks for a moment, taking a deep breath.

“So we tell them.”

You lean back into Bucky’s arm, inhaling the familiar scent of peace.

“We should do it as soon as possible.”

“How about tomorrow?”

You nod, biting your glossy lips.

“Yeah. We need to do it sometime, and we’ve delayed the inevitable for long enough. We’ll do it tomorrow.”

Bucky nudges closer to you, so your sides are pressed together.

“It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to, honey girl.”

You smile gently.

“I know. I don’t think I believed you the first time you said that to me. But I do now.”

“You and me against the world, baby.”

“You and me against the world, Buck.”

It truly feels like it, at the moment. You and Bucky against the world.

tag list part one

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807 notes · View notes

deathbyathousandspiders · 10 months

Note

hey! could you write something where tony accidentally finds out the reader, his daughter, and peter are dating? they’re both scared for his reaction but then he’s actually super cool about it :)

I LOVE STARK!READER !!

i got saucy w this one :,) my b

!!! 18+ MDNI !!!

content warnings — steamy peter make outs, light swearing, sexual content, suggestive dialogue.

✨masterlist✨.

2.1k.

Nothing could beat lazy Sundays at the compound. The whole team was either MIA, on a mission, or training, so every room fell still with serenity. It was the perfect time for you to stick your nose in a book, and lounge around the empty estate. Your father was off somewhere across the complex working on some gadget, which left you free to roam around wherever you wanted.

Your hair gently tickled your bare shoulders as you tied it up, laying your book face–open on the kitchen island so that you could keep reading and grab a snack. The air conditioning nipped at the skin exposed from your minimal clothing; your black–cropped tank top and favorite pair of shorts didn’t protect you from the artificial frost in the air, but it certainly helped with the heat when you stepped outside.

Just before your hands fell back to your book, arms wrapped around your waist from behind. Their shape and placement was something so familiar, the touch brought you more comfort than startle. Cedarwood and bergamot were quick to fill your nose whilst your boyfriend’s head craned into the base of your neck. His fingers locked to the belt loops of your shorts, tugging you back into him so that he could feel more of you.

“I’ve been looking for you..” His voice was throaty. Needy. The pads of his thumbs traced tiny circles into either of your hips, gently pressing further into your skin when your hand stretched up to comb through his fluffy brown curls. His affection and body heat were a welcomed company in the cold of the kitchen.

A smile found your face, even though Peter couldn’t see it from where he was. “I missed you too, baby.” Humming, your fingers scratched his scalp. “D’you know who’s here right now?” Your voice grew hushed, heart racing with the small adrenaline rush infiltrated your system.

“Your dad’s in his lab, Steve and Natasha are in the gym, and Vision’s with Wanda in the meeting room, but otherwise.. Everyone else’s out..” Peter’s voice dropped an octave as he spoke just above a whisper, his lips finding your collarbone. “Sam, Bucky, Thor..” In between each name, he placed another kiss on your neck, only inching higher. The more skin he nipped at, the more your fingers curled around his hair, curving your neck so that he had more access to you. “Bruce, Clint, Rhodey, Pepper…” His whispers sent shivers down your spine, especially as his left hand slid under the fabric of your shirt.

As Peter trailed kissed up to your jaw, a shuttered moan caught between your lips. You fought the urge to roll your hips back into his, knowing that you couldn’t finish what you were starting. If anybody found you two, your secret relationship would be out, and your dad would give you hell for it. “Peter.. We can’t…” You spoke breathlessly, tugging at his hair; it was an attempt to pull him from your body, but you didn’t try too hard.

His lips hovered over his favorite soft spot in the crevasse of your jawline, brushing his teeth along the surface of it just to rile you. It certainly didn’t help that he aimed his breathy chuckle right at it, but god did it feel good. “Why not?”

You huffed impatiently, eyes half lidded whilst your entire body anticipated the gentle brushing of his lips against your neck. His cooling fingers teased at the bottom of your left breast, testing waters you two hadn’t touched before. Sure, you’d let Peter Parker touch you like this plenty of times before, but never in the open like this. Never in the open where your secret could be outed.

“Cause I–” You felt the tug of Peter’s smirk against your skin at how worked up you were already getting. “I’m reading…” You knew that Peter was well aware of how secretive you needed to be. ‘Reading’ was merely just to give him a hard time.

He let out a quiet sigh, pressing a lingered kiss to your cheek. His thumb lightly rubbed at your rib cage beneath your shirt, but otherwise, he gave up his attempt. “You’re sure I can’t even get one kiss?” He asked, pouty even in his tone of voice.

You turned your head to look at him. Your eyes glanced at his lips just to tease him, “Over my dead body, Parker.” Your voice still sang out low, wanting nothing more than to taste him right then and there.

Peter’s face inched closer to yours, snickering quietly at your stubborn response. “Not if your dad kills me first..” He mused, voice still just as groveled as before. His lips nearly brushed against yours, but the sound of the floorboards outside of the kitchen made you both add three feet between you.

“Why would I kill you?” Your dad’s voice hummed nonchalant, as if he wasn’t interrupting such an intimate moment. He walked right through the thickening tension like it wasn’t the weight that it was. Tony’s focus seemed to be glued to his holographic wrist watch, completely oblivious to Peter’s hand slyly slipping out from under your black camisole.

You and Peter glanced at each other, astonished that he seemed so unfazed and unaware. Perhaps, your father didn’t hear as much of the conversation as you assumed he did. Maybe he truly was clueless to the blush coating your cheeks, and the timid bulge poking at the fly of Peter’s jeans.

“Uhh..” Peter lost every thought that occupied his brian. “Because I ate the last Pop Tart. I–I just figured you’d be upset.” Even he didn’t sound convinced about the excuse.

Finally, Tony looked up from his watch, eyeing you first, then Peter. This was the closest you two were to getting caught, and even though the AC was cranked fairly high, it felt like the air suddenly ran much cooler. Your heart was in your throat, easing a little when your father walked over and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek.

Tony leaned back on the kitchen island beside you, crossing his arms over his Nirvana band–tee. “Lucky for you, kid, I’ve got a whole secret stash in my lab.” He spoke with his typical Tony tone, “I’ll let you off the hook this time.”

Little did you or Peter know that your father actually heard most of your conversation. How much of it? He’d never tell you. Tony Stark knew that you and Peter had the hots for each other for a long time. He was just waiting for both of you to come clean about the relationship, or for the perfect time for him to address it. He’d known for a while, but the longer it took, the more entertaining it was to act like he was oblivious to it. Now, how he found out about the relationship, he’d never tell that to you either.

“Are you calling my daughter a liar, Rogers?” Tony asked the blonde from across the pool table, watching as the captain missed the shot with no reaction.

Steve stood upright, stepping back so that Tony had room to make his turn. “No. No, Tony.” He started, “All I’m saying is that if Peter were chivalrous, he would ask you for your permission first. That’s all.”

The topic of the evening was why you and Peter both flaked out of game night. Ever since Sam joked that you could’ve been bailing to go out together, every conversation Tony had was directed on how likely the possibility truly was.

His eyes squinted at Steve, readjusting his cue and stance in one swift movement. He knew Steve was traditional, but sometimes, Tony forgot just how traditional he really was. “They don’t need my permission. They’re teenagers.” Tony creased his hips, focusing on the pool table for a second. “Besides,” with a faint clank, Tony knocked two balls in with one hit, “Maybe she asked him out. It’s the twenty–first century.”

Steve sighed with a slight twinge of annoyance, both at Tony’s coyness and his success in their game. He leaned on his cue like a cane, watching the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist walk around the table again. “Alright, fine.” Steve huffed. “But if they are out canoodling tonight, what are you going to do about it?”

A focused glare glistened in Tony’s eyes as he bent over to take the shot. He pulled the cue back a few times, pondering on both his turn and the question. If he made this shot correctly, he could win the whole game; if you and Peter were really out on a date, what would he do?

Tony shoved the wooden rod in his hand, acing the shot just like he calculated. He subtly smirked to himself, looking back at Steve to answer his question. “I’ll find a way to give them hell for it.”

And that, he was. Ever since he caught you and Peter getting frisky on the security system later that night. That conversation happened months ago, and Tony still managed to make both of you incredibly jittery. He wasn’t entirely sure why it was such a big deal to tell him, or why you’d kept it a secret for so long, but he knew sooner than later you’d find a way to tell him.

Little did he know, Peter Parker was finding his way onto your bedroom in the thick of night after patrols.

You unlocked the door to your balcony, welcoming him in with the kiss you meant to give him hours earlier. Hungrily, your lips clasped with his, getting drunk on his taste, and lacing your fingers in his hair. “God, I missed you..” You spoke between kisses.

“Missed you too, baby..” Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, finally able to relax in your presence.

Both of you took steps towards your bed, slow and steady to avoid the lack of contact. Peter’s mask was lost somewhere on your bedroom floor, and you wasted no time to press the button on his chest and strip him from the suit he’d been wearing.

Peter got to your bed first, sitting back on it and quickly helping you climb on top of him. His hands grasped every inch of you that they could — grazing your neck, squeezing at your hips, grabbing your ass, and now inching up your inner thigh as you straddled his lap. His hips arched up to meet yours, pressing up against you in a delicious way.

Tongues greeting each other, you both moaned into each other’s mouth. You couldn’t get enough of each other, and the foreplay only reminded you of how little patience you had for it. You didn’t just want Peter right now, you needed him. Inside you. The ache in your lower stomach felt throbbing, and you were confident that your arousal was already coating the fingers Peter had at your upper thigh.

Just as you both parted the kiss to catch your breath, your bedroom door abruptly opened, light invading the room. Your blood ran cold as your head snapped toward the door in time with Peter’s; you both met the casual stare of your father. Tony Stark stood in the doorframe, unfazed, in pajamas, toothbrush in his mouth.

The room fell quiet, apart from the sounds of the bristles cleaning Tony’s pearly whites, and the faint heavy breaths that you and Peter tried to catch.

Taking the toothbrush out of his mouth, Tony was the first to break the awkward, deafening, silence. “Hey, Kid.” Tony’s head nodded upwards, as though he were greeting Peter in public. Not like he was speaking nonchalantly to Peter, flushed, in boxers, sat beneath his daughter’s thighs. “Next time, can you use the front door so that I don’t have to disarm the security system?” Even if little he knew, little was still more than nothing.

Peter stared blankly at him, sure as hell that this had to be some nightmare he just hadn’t woken up from yet. He glanced at you, then swallowed the frog stuck in his throat. “Uh– uh, yep! Yeah, I–uh, I can do that!” He wasn’t sure why his voice always raised two octaves when he was nervous, but it definitely made this moment that much more amusing for Tony.

With a small smile, your dad grabbed the doorknob with his freehand. “Thanks.” He then put the toothbrush back in his mouth, slowly shutting the door. “Have fun! Use protection.” His words were muffled and spat due to having his mouth full, but he shut the door after that.

As awkward as it must’ve been for you and Peter, Tony found that moment to be as satisfying as he pictured it to be. Boy, he would give Peter the talking to of a lifetime in the morning, but it thrilled him to know that you’d found someone who made you so happy.

He didn’t see need to kill Peter either, after all.

1K notes · View notes

frostironfudge · 2 years

Text

My Angel - Bucky Barnes Smut

Summary: Bucky Barnes, your father's best friend has been very, very patient about matters involving you. Seeing you in that outfit however, he can't help but want to corrupt his angel.

Pairing: DBF! Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: main kink: corruption, age gap: bucky is 40 reader late twenties eg: 26, smut, dom/sub dynamics, possessiveness, slight dark bucky, praise kink, mild degradation kink, nickname - angel, oral f receiving, p in v, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, handjob, cosplay, cum play, Bucky Barnes is a warning MINORS DNI

A.N: i always wanted to write DBF!Bucky and the best way is smut I guess, hope you enjoy! also side note i know nothing of the hobbit and i did ask my best friend @stevesmewmew about it. also song i constantly heard while writing - dirty thoughts - chole adams

Word Count: 3020

Main Masterlist|| AO3 || Kinktober Materlist

You stare at yourself in the mirror, gnawing your bottom lip. The white dress looks pretty, sort of flowy, your cheeks heat at why you picked the outfit.

The lace sits nicely, you stare at the silver woven crown you DIY-ed. Placing it upon your head. You don’t know the first thing about the character apart from what you found on google.

Galadriel, you stare at your attempt of cosplay one more time. You do admire the dress. All your best friend said was she was powerful, innocent and that she had battle skills as well as knowledgeable. She seemed badass.

You knew the man’s eye you watched to catch was a fan of the franchise. You wondered who he would dress as, your palms smoothen over the dress once again. Grabbing your purse you do a final check and head downstairs. Nervousness blooms in your abdomen.

Your elder brother’s annual halloween party was an excuse for friends and teens to sort of let loose. The only reason it was even allowed was the fact that Bucky Barnes, your dad’s best friend and neighbour would keep the antics in line. The same man who you wanted to impress tonight.

Usually he would be having fun with everyone and covering for your brother’s shenanigans and mostly keeping you company and coaxing you out of your shell for about an hour and then you both would sneak into the theatre room to have a horror movie marathon.

As you traverse downstairs, the party already in full swing. Music thumping, you squeeze past the crowd in the hallway going to the kitchen for a drink. You wonder if forgoing the wig makes a difference as you head to the fridge. Shrugging you uncap the bottle. Glad, that the kitchen isn’t occupied yet.

“Holy fuck.” The voice startles you and the water drops across your chest. You wince turning to tell of the source. Your throat dries when it’s Bucky — dressed in a suit, fangs peaking through his lips.

“B-bucky?” You confirm, he’s gone for the modern vampire vibe and you can’t stop staring at the fit of his inner white collared shirt.

“You, you’re dressed as—,” his eyes trace over you, crown to hem of the white gown. His fake fang sinks into his bottom lip. Tongue then peeking out to wet the flesh.

You gulp eyes on his lips, “G-galadriel.”

“You look, ethereal.” He admits, you look away shyly.

“Thank, thank you.” Internally your heart hammers at his response.

Bucky steps closer, towering over you. His woodsy cologne evades your senses, he reaches up, fixing your crown. Fingertips then trace from your temple to your jaw to your chin, tilting your head back.

His heated gazes prompts your thighs to clench. Bucky inhales deeply.

“Such innocence.” He murmurs, “So much light. How would you look flush against darkness?” Bucky questions he can feel all the blood rush to his cock. Your nipples hardened perceivable through the lace. The tea towel he holds pressed against your chest.

He wants to push you against the wall and kiss you. Wants to rip the lace off with his teeth, watch how your lips part moaning his name, or stretched around his cock, how would you look bouncing on his— you blink up at him, he shifts back.

“Can’t taint you, can I?” He muses. You frown.

“Bucky I,”

“Do you like my outfit?” He gestures, changing the topic.

“Vampire?” You giggle when he smiles brightly, fangs bared.

“From those shows you like,” He admits sheepish.

“The one I like wears a leather jacket.” You tease, he narrows his eyes.

“Oh so when I caught you salivating at the suit wearing one, that was what?” He chuckles when you huff caught in your own web of lies.

“I do like him in a suit, you might just make it better.” Your fingertips trace the undone jacket button, biting your lip you look up at him.

Bucky breathes your name in warning, not for himself but for you. He had begun to disregard warnings the night he coated his fist and abdomen with his cum thinking about you.

“Want to know a dirty little secret?” You burn his curiosity brighter than light. He nods.

“I wore the outfit for you.” Your hand traces up to the jacket lapel, Bucky breathes deeply.

“You dressed up as one of the most innocent characters of my favourite series, for me?” Bucky recounts, god your perfume so sweet. How would you taste? He wonders.

“All for you.” You admit, swallowing when his palm finally meets your waist. Warmth sears through your skin as his thumb brushes over the lace.

Bucky’s mind is a swirl of should I, should I not, but you were making it so easy. So easy to choose the idea to corrupt you.

The groan he produces rumbles in his chest, Bucky watches as you shift and your pelvis moves in the slightest to your thighs clenching.

“Want to know a dirty little secret, Angel?” He questions, palm trailing up your side, to your breast.

“Y-yes.” You bite your lip trying not to make a sound as he palms the flesh through the lace.

“I want to ruin you, with my tongue, my fingers and my cock.” Bucky’s voice is deep, you softly moan at his words.

“Look at that, little innocent angel wants to be ruined.” He comments, tugging on your nipples.

“You’re going to look so pretty wrapped around my cock, begging for release.” He tugs on your earlobe, you feel his thigh between your legs, your hips buck involuntary, you whimper at the contact.

“Look at you Angel, turning into such a needy, pretty slut for me.” Bucky marvels at the way you’re complying, the way your needy little breaths are making him so hard.

He pulls away as he hears boisterous laughter approaching. You whine at the loss of him.

“Angel.” He chastises. Handing you the dish towel to help soak the water from your dress.

“Oh hey, Mr. Barnes, hey tiny.” Your brother chuckles when you groan at his stupid nickname for you. He busies himself taking out drinks from the wine cooler.

“Hi Y/N. What happened?” Nick Fowler, your brother’s best friend steps closer to you.

“Just spilled a drink,” you shrug, his grey eyes on you.

“Oh I’ll help—,” Nick’s hand outstretches, but Bucky steps closer, “She’s got it.”

Nick’s jaw tenses, Bucky only smiles at him.

You look between the two, not understanding the reason for the stare down.

“Run along now.” Bucky speaks sickly sweet as your brother calls out to Nick, he gives you a once over and then leaves with him.

You look at Bucky, he turns to you, signs of irritation leaving his features.

“Meet me in my theatre room?” Bucky smiles when you nod eagerly.

He cups your face between, his metal and calloused hand.

Blue eyes, admire you.

“I want the crown to remain on, though I wonder if it will stay secure after I’m done with you.” Before you can react he presses his lips to yours, warm, soft lingering taste of his whiskey.

The cold metal of the refrigerator blooms across your back as he presses you against the appliance.

You kiss back, as his tongue swipes at your bottom lip exploring your mouth. Taking his bottom lip between your teeth you suck on the flesh, he moans your name, grinding against you.

Bucky parts his lips from yours, your lust blown eyes gaze up at him, so innocent.

“Oh, Angel. I don’t think I have any patience left any longer.” Is all he says before grabbing your hand and guiding you out the side door, towards his house.

Bucky’s hands are everywhere, your knees either side of his lap, the dress pushed up bunching around your hips. He lifts his hips ever so slightly, you cry out around his fingers.

“Go on Angel, get them nice and wet. Good girl, oh are you chocking on my fingers already? Oh sweet little needy baby, what will you do with my cock then?” He tuts, pulling his fingers out of your mouth, a trail of saliva connects from the tip of his finger to your lips.

“Ask for my fingers Angel.” Bucky smirks as you whine.

“Please.” Your hands rest on his chest.

“That wasn’t a really good job.” He chastises, “You can do better sweet Angel, go on say the filthy words of what you want from me.”

Staring into his eyes, your skin heats, Bucky shifts his hips again, you mewl.

“Bucky please.” Your hands clutch at his half unbuttoned shirt. It hangs off of his shoulders.

“Please what?” His left hand moves up your back, cooler fingers find the zipper undoing it.

“Please fuck me with, with your fingers.” You bite your lip.

“Only my fingers?” He teases thumb brushing over your inner thigh.

“Do you want to sit on my face baby? Do you want me to lap up your sweetness? Bet you taste so good.” His thumb brushes over your clit.

You nod, you want all of it.

“No panties, no bra, were you wanting me to fuck you?” He raises a brow, thumb applying pressure.

You nod preening, “Want, want you.” His left hand urges you to kneel straighter, index and middle finger circling your entrance.

“You want, me, Angel?” He confirms again, “Look at you, clenching around nothing, let’s change that shall we?” His digit sinks into you, Bucky swirls it around touching your walls, he then begins to pump in and out.

You begin to meet the slow thrusts, your gown beginning to fall from your shoulders. Bucky swears as he sees the untouched skin and the pebbled nipples.

“Look at you,” Two fingers fucking into your cunt, “Meeting every thrust, not so innocent are you?” His lips latch onto your nipple, sucking and biting your head thrown back his palm rubs over your clit as you grind down upon his fingers.

Bucky shifts his attention to the other nipple, the pace of his fingers increasing he adds a third, “Have to stretch you out don’t I? Aw, Angel are you going to make a mess on me? My Dirty, dirty girl.”

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky—,” His fingers continually tap over the spongy sport, stars begin to cloud your vision, left hand gripping your breast, tweaking your nipples.

“Go on, cum for me Angel, this is only the beginning of your ruin.” Bucky smirks as you shudder against him, cunt squeezing his fingers, thighs trying to close, your hands tugging on is hair.

Lust blown blues admire you unraveling, the bliss spreading over your features as the orgasm takes you, your walls begging to keep his fingers in, Bucky’s palm rubbing circles over your clit and the burn of it delicious. Your shaking from the aftershocks ceases. It takes everything in Bucky not to have his fingers replaced by his cock swiftly.

“You with me Angel?” Bucky chuckles, when you blink through the haze.

“Y-yeah.” You run your fingers through his hair.

“Crown’s still on.” He chuckles, bringing his slick covered fingers to your lips, “Have a taste, you need to know how you taste without me.”

His fingertips trace your lips, your tongue follows. Bucky then tastes you from his fingers and moans.

Your dress is pushed off of your body, Bucky’s hands roam in admiration.

“So fucking delicious, I deserve a reward don’t I? For being this patient, for letting you remain untainted by me this long.” He looks at you, you nod. Bucky taps your hips and you move off him to allow him to slide down.

He kisses your clit, “Already needy, my, my.” his tongue licks over your folds, humming at your taste.

“Grab onto the headboard, Angel.” He says before his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks wantonly upon the pulsing nub. Shivers bloom across your back.

You moan, grinding onto his face, he groans. Hands clutching your hips not letting you move away, Bucky laps at your entrance, licking stripes from your clit to circle and back. Nibbling on the clit your mewls and preens don’t stop, his light scruff burns deliciously over your inner thighs and folds.

“Bucky please, please, please—,” You warn as the coil snaps again, his hips lift off of the bed in response as he hungrily devours you for every single drop. When he doesn’t relent you try pulling away, you can feel yourself getting slick again as his ministrations continue.

His large hands push you back to sit on his lap again, pink lips glistening as he smirks. He pulls you close chest to chest.

“Rewarding.” He comments lazily tracing patters on your thigh.

You look down, the tent in his pants achingly visible.

“Can, can I?” You request.

“All words, Angel, need to know the filth that goes on in that innocent little mind, tell me is it all for me? Have my thoughts been corrupting you?” Your thighs squeeze at his word.

“Have you touched yourself thinking about me? Played with my pussy without asking me?” His thumb returns to your clit.

“Yes.” You squeak.

“Tell me what you’ve thought about baby?” He questions, “Tell me while you undo my pants, go on.”

Shaky fingers reach for the button, “I’ve thought, I’ve though about you fucking me, in your study.” You undo the zipper.

“Bent over my table?” He questions watch your tits with every deep breath you take.

You shake your head, toying with the wait band of his boxers.

“Against the window? My sweet, innocent, Angel wants the world to see I’m fucking her?” He questions, you nod.

“And maybe the table too.” You add, drawing amused laughter from him.

“What else, Angel?” He questions pace on your clit increasing, “Take my cock out.”

You do as he says, pumping him from bottom to top, his length is massive and girth as well. You bite your lip.

“Angel, don’t worry your pretty little head, it’ll fit, pussy was made for my cock.” He hisses as you rub your thumb on the slit then you bring the precum covered digit to your lips, locking eyes with him.

“Go on, taste me.” He watches as you clean your thumb eyes closed and humming at his taste before returning your hand to his cock.

“Stand up, we’re going to my office.” Bucky’s cock twitches in your hold.

His clothes are discarded, he easily lips you up, legs wrapped around him, his cock shifts over your folds with each step, Bucky keeps his lips pressed to yours as he easily moves to his office down the hall.

“Bend over the table corner.” He instructs, setting you down, you do as he says the cold marble has you shift, the rounded corner touches your clit.

“Just how I pictured.” He hums appreciative, lining himself up with you, slowly sinking in inch by inch you both moan in synchrony. Bucky grabs your hands holding them behind you. The arch it creates has him move in deeper, tip right against your g-spot.

“Fuck, so fucking tight, look at you, spread out for me, what would people say? Innocent little Angel is Bucky’s pretty little slut. She fantasises about being fucked by him. I’ll fuck you on every surface if you ask me.” His hips snap you cry out, clenching hard around him.

“Only you.” You whimper, as his pace increases, the cold marble rubbing against your clit.

“Fuck, how good are you squeezing me, cunt doesn’t want to let me go.” Bucky groans, pulling you up.

His cock moves deeper, your back is against his chest, his left hand moves to your clit, right hand around your throat squeezing lightly. Your walls quiver around him.

“Oh Angel likes being choked? Fuck, you’re perfect. My pretty little slut, look at you.” He groans, adding pressure and the sounds of his cock have you mewl and preen.

“Please, please, please,” More incoherent thoughts spill from your lips, he feels so good, so good. So deep.

“Only I, get to see you this way don’t I? Begging, on the brink of bliss.”

Yes, yes, yes—“Bucky, please—,”

“Look at you, can only think about my cock filling you up so good, can’t you Angel?” He bites down on your neck, leaving his mark.

“So, g-good,” You choke on another moan.

Your hands around his neck, your nails manage to claw at his flesh. Bucky knows he’s not going to last, he knows you aren’t going to either.

“Go on Angel, cum so you can feel me everywhere. My dirty, little, pretty girl. Innocent little slutty Angel.” His words set off the flame that consumed your veins, distantly you hear a desperate cry of Bucky’s name, Bucky groans your name in response your spasming walls setting his orgasm off.

He continues to fuck you through your orgasms, panting in his arms, Bucky loves how your pussy feels wrapped around him. He leans back taking you with him into his plush chair.

Cock still inside of you, his fingers rubbing at your clit, you protest, his hand clutches at your hair, lips swallow down your protests, fingers moving fast your babbles return, cumming undone on his cock, marking it with yourself.

“Look at that Angel, you’ve claimed my cock.” He admires the fluids coating your thighs and his balls, gathering the cum, he brings his fingers to your lips.

You keep your eyes locked with his, as you lick his fingers clean. Your clit pulses at the taste. Bucky smirks feeling your pussy clench. Your mind is a haze as his lips press kisses to your temple and cheek.

“I’ve got all night to corrupt your thoughts further. Against the window next, Angel. I know someone who would hate to miss out on the show we put on.” He chuckles darkly, hands roam your body.

You hum tiredly, basking in the warmth, Bucky’s eyes shift to the broken crown discarded to the floor.

“Little corrupted Angel.” He hums, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, "My Angel." He repeats, placing a soft kiss over the love bite on your neck.

"All yours, Bucky." You whisper, tilting your head back to meet his blue eyes.

-x-

permanent tags for bucky: @slutforsexyseabass

4K notes · View notes

world-of-aus · 2 months

Note

AHEM. GOOD EVENING! I hope you're alive because I'm not 🤤

I am not okay, but I was inspired...

Worth Every Penny

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: HEA. Pinch of Insecurities, Fluff, a doting and loving Bucky Barnes.

You can feel his eyes on you as you adjust the lone button beneath his bowtie, your fingers smoothing over the fabric as you list the details of tonight's charity auction.

“You’ll be called on after Steve, and please for the love of God don’t forget to smile.” you say as your eyes meet his. There’s a grin on his pink lips, “like that,” you point tapping the stubble skin of his cheek. His hand wraps around your wrist keeping you there, “as long as you promise to raise your number tonight, I’ll smile all you want me too.”

You only half roll your eyes, pushing your tongue against your cheek to keep your own smile in check, “I will not be responsible for your father’s death James.” He laughs, hand finding your waist, fingers curling to pull you flush against his chest, “good thing you’ll be with Ma, you can wave that number of yours as much as you want, put it on my card even sweetheart.”

“James.”

The hand that held your wrist finds your cheek, his touch comforting as he searches your gaze, “sweetheart if I cared what my father thought I’d be his next in line, but I’m not, I’m running my own show, the way my father should have – and you and everyone else that matters knows that. So wave your number if you want to – or don’t because at the end of the night I’m coming home to you regardless of what anyone thinks, says, or does.”

“B,” you murmur and he can’t help but to chuckle because he knows he’s got you now. He feels you melt into him, “stop thinking, can see those gears running, don’t care what anyone has to say tonight, just care about you.”

He makes it so easy for you to forget the whole world, forget the two very ‘different’ worlds you came from, the ones certain individuals just loved to make so painfully obvious to you – to him. And between your internal scolding and Bucky’s constant reassurance you knew you shouldn’t care, nobody else mattered except the man that held you in his arms but you couldn’t help it, their whispered words stung. They all only saw you as the successful mob bosses secretary. To many like him you weren’t his equal, weren’t worthy of his time except for making sure to keep track of his time.

A knock on his office door pulls the two of your from the intimate moment, the two of you stepping away from one another. Sam’s voice calls for the two of you, “it’s time, we’ve got to head out now.” You smoothed him over one more time, Sam pushing the door open further, “remember,” you say running a hand over his cheek “smile.”

Sam calls for you one more time now fully waiting for you by the open doorway arm waiting for yours. You turn to move over to him but Bucky’s hand stops you, “Ill always choose you, remember that.” You give him a smile, one the two of you know doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Bucky wont let you leave like that so he pulls you to him, his lips finding yours in an unexpected but reassuring kiss.

He only hands you over to Sam when he knows he’s kissed you breathless, “Take care of her Sam,” he tells his best friend and right-hand. Sam nods looping your arm with his, “you know I will, cars out front, your ma and sister are waiting.”

The two of you follow your boss, out of his office making sure he makes it out to the car, Winnie rolling the window down to coo over you, “you looks absolutely stunning in that dress!” “we’ll save you and Sam a seat,” Rebecca calls from next to her mom.

Before he enters the car with his mom and sister Bucky turns to the two of you, “when you get there, the four of you stay together,” he turns to Sam, “don’t let either of them out of your sight.”

“I’ve got it handled man, get out of here before you get there late and your dad blows a damn fuse.” You and Sam watch him get into the car, watching it pull out of the driveway shortly after before moving to your own vehicle.

“You know George will blow a fuse tonight either way right?” you laugh as you buckle yourself in. Sam laughs as he puts the car into drive, “Seeing Bucky alone will have him popping a blood vessel, that man can’t stand to see his son succeed.”

The gala is in full swing by the time you and Sam arrive, several well-known notorious families all coming together for one big event that benefits all. You recognize several faces that have come through Bucky's office as you walk arm in arm with Sam through the ballroom to where the tables are pressed along the corners.

You greet the familiar faces kindly as you pass through the tables where Winnie and Becca wait for you, Winnie’s hand flagging the two of you down, your name being called through the air. Bucky’s mother makes niceties for the other watchful eyes in the room, encouraging you to join them, of course you and Sam can’t pass the offer up – it wouldn’t look right in the eyes of the other families watching on, you thank her sweetly as you take your seat, Sam taking the one next to you.

You can feel his eyes on you as you talk with his mother, he's sitting a table away with his father. George Barnes had saw to it that his son’s seat was assigned at his table, ‘there is business to attend to, new heads for you to meet that have been placed at my table it’ll be good for you to build your name.’ had been his excuse. Though you know that hadn’t been the case if the brunette-haired woman sitting next to him, leaning much to closely for your liking had been any indication. George Barnes had been trying to set Bucky up with Dot since you started on as his son’s secretary. Bucky had no interest then, and he had no interest now, his eyes always looking your way, to be fair you tried to keep it to a minimum how often you glanced his way.

“You should raise your number tonight when he goes up dear.” Your eyes find Winnie’s and there's a warm smile waiting on her lips, “I know that’s what my son would want, and I know that's what you want as well.” Your eyes find her hand that's still placed warmly over yours, “I know Ma, but I don’t want to cause him any trouble – not tonight - and knowing your ex-husband there will be hell to be had if I so much as raise a hand when your son’s name is announced.” Winnie scoffs, “that man has raised hell every day since Bucky chose to build his own name, a name not tarnished by his father, George isn’t used to not getting his way, he’s used to glaring people down and getting what he wants, when in all reality it was his son that was getting him what he wanted and now that he doesn't have that, well he’s not used to losing so he brings down people to get what he wants. And you my dear are unfortunately his biggest target because he’s seen how much Bucky cares for you, how much he loves you.”

Your eyes flicker to hers drawing a laugh from woman you’ve come to love as your own over the years you’ve worked alongside Bucky. “Don’t tell me you don’t see it y/n, my boy is as smitten as ever, can hardly get him to come see me on his own anymore.”

“That’s where I come in.’ Becca laughs from beside her mom, “and even then he has to make it a whole day for us girls just to make sure he’s close by – can’t risk anything happening to my girls.” Rebecca says doing her best impersonation of her brother.

You laugh then recalling all the Sunday afternoons that turned into family outings because ‘why not? I love keeping my girls happy, and you never know Becs mom might want a new set of nails after breakfast.’ Winnie never did need a fresh set, but the Barnes women always indulged Bucky in his Sunday breakfast with his ma turned family outings if only to keep him happy, because he deserved it.

“He really does love you,” Sam chimes in from next to you, his shoulder bumping yours softly, “though to be fair he was smitten the day you scolded his father in front of his men.”

“I swear that’s the day I made an enemy of that man,” you chuckle your eyes moving towards the table where George Barnes sat. You find awaiting eyes and a kind smile from the man that holds your heart, you return his smile, “that was also the start of the rest of your life, Bucky’s offered you more than George ever could, and in turn you’ve given my son the means to be who he is now.”

Your laugh is watery as you fan at your eyes, Winnie cooing over you as she pulls you into her side pressing her lips to the side of your head. Rebecca eventually squeezes in Sam throwing his arm the best he can over the three of you. Before you arrived you might have though twice about using the black card nestled in your clutch but now, now you’d do it proudly. A table over Bucky can’t help but to worry as his family circles you, your watery laugh meeting his ears as you assure the table your fine, he has half a mind to leave the table and get to you but then they’re announcing all candidates with their secretaries to the stage.

Bucky stands watching his mother smoothe you over, he meets you halfway not taking you in his arm right away to search your face. He cups your cheek, the moment intimate eyes surely on the two of you, “are you okay?”

You smile squeezing the hand that rests on your cheek, “perfect B, come on let’s get you to the stage.”

He gives you his arm, guiding you through the tables towards the back of the stage, the announcer is talking about the purpose of tonight’s event while the heads of the houses stand in a bunch awaiting their names to be called. Bucky guides you to his friends, Steve’s the first to greet you, Natasha following as she squeezes you in a warm embrace. Then comes stark with Pepper, Odison with Jane, and lastly the newest name vision and Wanda. This was the family Bucky had created after stepping down from his father, and he had you to thank for it, Steve had been the first to rally at his side, but the others came because of you, because of the relationships you helped him build.

The girls are cleaning up their men as they straighten them out, you turn to your favorite brunette smiling as you squeeze his shoulders. “You keep smiling like that for me, and I’ll smile up on that stage for you.” You laugh, “careful B, don’t want to make it too hard for us to outbid.”

“Ma did say I was worth every penny.”

You shake your head at him, fingers running over the lapel of his suit, “you really are B.”

His lips part to speak but the announcer has begun to call names, “remember sweetheart I’m still yours at the end of the night.”

“I know B.”

You let him go moving over to the ladies before you all exit from behind the stage, each of you going back to your respective tables to watch the auction. Vision is the first to be called on stage and his bids alone start off the auction strong. You’re not surprised when Wandas card fly's up, determination set as she outbids every woman who even try's. She closes the bidding for a whopping 10,000, no one ever stood a chance.

And so, it goes with Odison going on next, Tony following both men closing 5,000 above visions, their secretaries waving at their recognition. The nerves begin to flare when Steve is called upon, your table at the ready with your numbers, Natasha meets your eyes from three tables down, smirk on her face. Steve’s bids started strong with 1,000 being called by Natasha other women chirping in throughout the room, with your table occasionally bouncing in. You begin to sweat when he passes 15,000 the numbers slowly climbing up. Sam closes the bidding with 20,000 you barely stifle your laugh at the wink Steve sends him.

Bucky’s name is called next, his presence taking over the stage your breath catching in your throat, his eyes scan the entire room but ultimately land on you. Winnie starts the bidding at 3,000 “nobody's taking my boy on a date.” It makes you laugh when Rebecca follows, tacking on another 1,000, Sam taking it up another 2,000 shortly after. Steve’s voice sounds in the room bringing his count up to 7,000. His bid continues to climb the women chirping in outbidded by the ones he loves most. Bucky’s inching on Steve when from the table right next to you Dolores raises her number, 25,000. George finds your eyes, smirk on is devious features, you look away.

The announcer begins to call out ‘going once twi -”

Your number goes up, ‘55,000’ you call, the room gasps Winnie laughing next you, squeezing you as she huddles close. The announcer doesn't think twice as he closes the bid for ‘55,000 to the highest bidder of the night, congratulations.’

Bucky’s grinning at you with love in his eyes as the announcer calls all winners to come backstage to meet and finalize a date. Aside from Sam who takes Natashas spot though she still follows the two of you, most of the secretaries are making their way behind the stage again. There is laughter in the air as Steve and Sam make dramatics of embracing each other intimately though you only have eyes for one person behind that stage.

He closes the distance between the two of you, cradling your face in warm hands, “55,000, sweetheart,” he breathes, “my cheeks were already hurting just looking at you.”

You pull him closer, “I did say you were worth every penny,” you grinned melting into his embrace as he captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

He was worth every penny and more.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months

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All The Lies || B. Barnes - Part 3

Character: mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Y/N, haunted by guilt and betrayal, visits her ailing father, who reveals Bucky's apology and love despite their tragic past.

Warning: Angst, heartbreak.

Part 1: Echoes Of Revenge

Part 2: Shattered Echoes

Part 4: Sweetest Dreams

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Six months. 182 excruciating days since Bucky's eyes, dull and defeated, had mirrored the desolation gnawing at Y/N's soul. His words, "heartless woman," still echoed through the corridors of her mind, a spectral curse that clung to every breath she took.

She told herself it was righteous anger, the echo of justified revenge, but the bitter and jagged truth was that she saw a defeated man, broken at her feet every time she closed her eyes.

Then came the call, her mother's voice, tinged with worry, shattering the fragile normalcy she'd pieced together. "He's sick," she whispered, "your father." Y/N knew, even before the words left her mother's lips, that it was an act of defiance, a silent plea for reconciliation forged in the crucible of illness.

A deep and guttural sigh ripped through her, a mirror to the chasm between her and her father. His disapproval, a boulder thrown at her heart for her unconventional methods of vengeance, had created a distance so vast it felt like galaxies separated them.

Packing was a desperate attempt to outrun the ghosts that haunted her. Once a canvas of shared dreams, the city now felt like a labyrinth of memories.

Every corner whispered of Bucky, his laughter echoing in bustling cafes, his touch lingering in the rustling of leaves in the park where they'd first kissed. Did he still walk these streets? Was he haunted by her, too, by the love she'd poisoned with her vengeance?

The hospital, sterile and reeking of disinfectant, felt like a tomb. Her mother's embrace, warm but brittle, couldn't dispel the ice clinging to Y/N's heart. "Go see him," her mother's voice cracked.

As the door slid open, revealing the sterile white room, Y/N's breath caught in her throat. There, on the bed, lay her father, pale and frail, the years etched into his face like a cruel map of her absence.

The tears, long held at bay, finally broke free, flooding the sterile room with the bitter tide of regret. She knelt beside the bed, her hand reaching for his, a desperate plea for forgiveness, for a chance to mend what she'd broken. She has disappointed her parents and destroyed Bucky.

"Forgive me. You did all of this because of me." Her father's words hung heavy in the sterile air, each syllable a shard of guilt wedging itself into Y/N's already wounded heart.

"Dad," she choked out, the word a flimsy dam against the tide of emotions threatening to engulf her. "It doesn't matter. We won."

Her father's voice, raspy with illness and regret, shifted the conversation. "That boy came here."

"Who?" Y/N's breath caught, a flicker of hope battling the embers of fear.

"Bucky."

The name now felt like ash in her mouth. "Why?"

"He… he apologized," her father said, his voice cracking. "For his father."

Y/N's heart clenched. Bucky, carrying the weight of his father's cruelty, the man she'd betrayed and used his trust, had chosen to apologize instead of blaming her.

"When I saw his eyes," her father said, his grip tightening on her hand, "I knew he was different. And he told me… he loves you. But he knew you both couldn't be together. He didn't want to burden you with the past."

"He was different," her father continued, his voice a weary echo. "From the last time I saw him. Fifteen years, can you believe it?"

"You know him?" she asked, her voice a mere tremor in the silence.

Her father nodded, a bittersweet smile twisting his lips. "The reason I stayed friends with Nicholas is because of Bucky."

"Why?" she whispered, the question a desperate plea for understanding.

Her father sighed, the sound heavy with a lifetime of unspoken words. "Nicholas is a businessman," he rasped, "cold, ruthless. Not fit to be a father. I met Bucky when I visited their home. Skinny, malnourished, haunted by his father's cruelty. I went there a few times, just to check on him, to make sure he was okay."

He continued "He's a good man."

He pulled her close, his embrace a fragile offering of comfort. "You're my precious daughter," he murmured, his voice trembling. "I don't want you haunted by the ghosts of this. You deserve to find happiness, to build a life free from the shackles of the past."

Y/N clung to her father, the tears she'd held back for so long finally spilling over. Each drop felt like a release, a purging of the guilt and anger that had poisoned her for years.

But the weight of his words, "you deserve to find happiness," echoed through her like a mournful wail. Could happiness truly exist without Bucky? Could she ever truly escape the ghosts of their shared past?

The city lights bled into the night sky, painting the air with a luminescent haze. Y/N walked, a solitary figure navigating the urban jungle, her thoughts tangled with the echo of her father's words.

The weight of his love and his pain, the burden of his betrayal and Bucky's apology, all pressed down on her, a storm brewing within.

Driven by a subconscious desire, or perhaps a cruel twist of fate, her feet led her to the pulsating heart of the city – Club Onyx, Bucky's domain.

The bass throbbed like a heartbeat, the air thick with sweat and expensive perfume. Inside, the dance floor was a kaleidoscope of bodies, lost in the rhythm, their worries and woes melting away in the strobe-lit frenzy.

But for Y/N, the music was a cacophony, the laughter a mocking echo. She perched at the bar, nursing a drink that tasted of ashes. Her unseeing gaze flickered across the crowd, searching for a ghost, a silhouette that wouldn't be there.

Even if she did find him, what would she say?

A tap on her shoulder startled her. Turning, she met the familiar eyes of Steve, Bucky's friend, a witness to their love story and its tragic demise. "Y/N?" his voice was hesitant, unsure.

She managed a weak smile. "Steve."

He slid onto the stool beside her, his gaze holding a quiet understanding. "Are you here to drown your sorrows or find him?"

Y/N shrugged, the gesture mirroring the storm raging within. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "Maybe both."

Steve sighed, a deep rumble that mirrored the bass thumping through the club. "I don't know what happened between you two," he confessed, his eyes filled with a flicker of pain. "For a year, Bucky searched for you like a man possessed. Then one day, he just… left. Came back a shell of his former self."

His words cut through her like a knife, twisting the wound she'd tried to bury. The guilt, a venomous serpent, coiled tighter in her stomach. Bucky had searched for her, even after she'd pushed him away and declared him the enemy.

And what had she done in return? Abandoned him, condemned him to a life of shadows. The guilt gnawed at Y/N's insides, a relentless worm feasting on her fragile peace.

"He just kept saying 'not meant to be,'" Steve revealed, his voice heavy with concern. "Since then, the laughter died in him. Sleep became a stranger, replaced by endless work."

"As his longtime friend," Steve's voice reached through the fog of her guilt, "can I ask you to see him, just talk?"

Y/N nodded, the weight of responsibility settling on her shoulders like a leaden cloak. "I'll talk to him," she rasped, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

Steve's eyes, weary yet hopeful, held a silent plea. "Thank you, Y/N," he said, glancing at his watch. "Bucky should be back in half an hour. He had a quick inspection at another branch. Can you wait? The drinks are on me."

Y/N raised her glass, a wan smile twisting her lips. "One is enough," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need a clear head for this."

Steve ascended to the top floor, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts and the pulsating rhythm of the club.

**********

Ten minutes stretched into an eternity, each tick of the clock echoing the drumbeat of her growing anxiety. What would she say? How could she mend the chasm she'd carved between them?

Seeking solace in the cool anonymity of the restroom, Y/N found herself caught in a line of impatient patrons. The air, thick with perfume and the cloying scent of cheap liquor, pressed down on her like a physical weight.

Suddenly, a sharp prick on her neck sent a jolt of pain through her. The world tilted, blurred around the edges, and then, darkness claimed her.

Steve, returning to check on Y/N and inform her of Bucky's imminent arrival, found a scene of unsettling confusion. A staff member, his face etched with concern, was helping Y/N stand upright.

"What happened to her?" Steve's voice cracked with alarm.

The staff member, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and uncertainty, stammered, "I think she's... drunk."

"Bring her upstairs," Steve barked, a tremor of unease lacing his voice despite the staff member's assurances about Y/N being just drunk. But one glass? His gut screamed otherwise.

Just as Steve turned to follow, the music surged, a deliberate shift in tempo that whipped the unsuspecting club patrons onto the dance floor, creating a human wall between him and the stairs.

Cursing under his breath, Steve fought through the crowd, his eyes scanning every face for a sign of Y/N, his heart thundering a frantic tattoo against his ribs.

******

Meanwhile, Bucky, adrenaline pumping through his veins, leaped out of the car, his heart a frantic drum solo against his ribs. Steve's message, "Y/N's at the club. Waiting for you," buzzed in his ears, a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.

He strode into the club, his eyes scanning the throng, searching for any flicker of Y/N's familiar silhouette. Then, he spotted Steve, his friend's face etched with a panic that mirrored his own.

"Steve?" Bucky's voice, raw and desperate, cut through the cacophony.

Steve whirled around, his relief morphing into horror in an instant. "Bucky, Y/N is missing," he gasped, rushing towards him and spilling the disjointed story.

Y/N's single drink, the suspicious staff member, the sudden disappearance - it all painted a chilling picture of abduction, a reality too horrifying to contemplate.

The ground beneath Bucky's feet felt like it crumbled. He'd lost Y/N once, for a year that had felt like an eternity. The thought of losing her again, this time forever, was a blow that shattered his already fractured world.

Without a word, he bolted out of the club, the pulsing music a grim counterpoint to the frantic beat of his heart. The city lights, once a familiar comfort, now blurred past him, each neon sign a mocking reminder of the darkness that had snatched his light away.

His mind, a whirlwind of fear and desperate determination, raced through possibilities, each one a fragile thread in a web of uncertainty. He had to find her. He couldn't lose her again. Not this time.

The world spun, a hazy kaleidoscope of blurred lights and distorted sounds. Y/N groaned, her head throbbing like a captured bird against its cage.

Darkness, cold and clammy, wrapped around her, broken only by the dim luminescence of a distant bulb. A taste of metallic fear clung to her tongue, the echo of an impact she couldn't quite recall.

Her breath hitched as movement pricked the edges of her awareness. Footsteps, heavy and deliberate, crept closer, their rhythm an ominous drumbeat against the silence. Then, a figure materialized from the shadows, settling into the creaking chair opposite her.

More than a year had passed, but the passage of time hadn't softened the venomous edge to Ivan's features. Gone was the polished veneer of the Goldenlix capital, replaced by a scraggly beard and hair that hung like curtains around his gaunt face. His clothes, once impeccably tailored, now hung loose and threadbare, a testament to his fall from grace.

"You made me bankrupt, Y/N," he hissed, his voice a twisted mockery of its former smoothness. A cruel smirk twisted his lips, but the fire in his eyes lacked its usual spark, replaced by a simmering hatred that sent chills down her spine.

"And now," he continued, his fingers brushing against her chin with the caress of a serpent, "I need your Midas touch to make me rich again."

Author Note:

Hey friends,

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ohbuckie · 1 year

Note

yes yes!! like you both agreed on no social media until a little bit after she is born but he still will always take pictures of you where he just thinks you look so beautiful and will send them to his mom and sister and just send like a little update on how everything is going

he alwaysss sends them to his mom. he tells her everything and he feels so much closer with her than he already is once he’s comfortable with the idea of parenthood. he sends her pics of you doing your little pregnant girl thing making some obscure snack and he’s like “i love her. i could cry. i just love her.” and it just makes her so happy to know HE’S so happy with how things are going 😚😚

#asks #bassist bucky #b!dad bucky

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evansbby · 1 year

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 (𝐏𝐎𝐘𝐓 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dark Steve, heavy misogyny, a/b/o dynamics, stalking, smut, daddy!kink, swearing, 18+, minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You walk into the lecture hall and Steve doesn’t know how to act.

𝐀/𝐍: Well, it’s finally here! This is a prequel of my fic Preying on You Tonight, completely in the point of view of everyone’s favourite toxic king, Steve! This is around 11k words. Please enjoy!

The first time Steve sees you, it’s like he suddenly can’t breathe. And the funniest thing is, he doesn’t even see you at first – he senses you, as ridiculous as that sounds. He’s just sitting there in the middle of the lecture hall, prodding the back of Bucky’s head as his friend lays slumped over on his desk, looking comically hungover – dark eyebags, rumpled clothes, red eyes – the works.

And then Steve feels this strange sensation, this prickling feeling at the back of his neck that makes his heart beat faster too. Almost like he’s nervous or anxious – which is stupid because Steve is never nervous or anxious. Even during the biggest football games of the season, with hordes of people in the crowd and even NFL recruiters watching, Steve still doesn’t break a sweat.

So, why does it suddenly feel like all the air’s been forced out of his lungs?

And then it hits him. It’s only the tiniest hint of the most incredible scent that he’s ever smelled, but it hits him like a fucking freight train. He remembers being really young, and his mother would grow magnolias in her garden. He remembers being almost obsessed with the smell, and inexplicably being drawn to the garden countless times before temptation finally gave in and he plucked a handful of the delicate flower, smelling it greedily.

His mother had just laughed – she never got angry at him. And Steve still remembers how he’d clutched the flowers tightly in his little fist all throughout lunch; because now that he had them, he could never let them go. And they smelled so intoxicatingly good – creamy and sweet, like vanilla with swirls of lemon. They smelled like spring, and Steve always liked spring. He’d kept the flowers by his bedside table (in his drawer, so his dad wouldn’t see).

But soon enough, the flowers had wilted – and that had made Steve mad. “What’s it gonna take to keep them alive?!” He’d demanded his mother, probably only about five years old yet angry at the world and angry at his flowers for dying on him. And his mother had patted his head, and soothed him with kisses.

“Love, Stevie. It takes love to keep them alive. Love, and patience and nurturing.”

And Steve remembers looking at his mother, then looking down at his poor, dead magnolias… A beat passing before he’d promptly thrown them to the ground and stomped all over them. If they were weak enough to just die like that, then he had no use for them. No matter how good they smelled.

But now, in the lecture hall on the first day of his senior year of college, Steve smells those magnolias again. Creamy and seductive yet reminding him of innocence, and youth, and memories of spring and new life. Just the right level of sweet, tickling his nostrils pleasantly, before he takes the deepest whiff of his life, like he just can’t get enough of the addicting smell.

And then he sees you.

Half-hidden by the most outrageously large hoodie he’s ever seen, with your books clutched to your chest and the shyest little smile on your face, you tentatively enter the lecture hall and Steve feels like his heart has stopped.

But… why?

He’s not blind – he can see you’re pretty. Very pretty. Softly pretty, is how Steve would describe it if he had to. All shy and hesitant as you make your way into the gigantic lecture hall, like a little butterfly in a jungle. He sees how you smile around, but you don’t seem to know anyone because you take a seat in the front row all by yourself, looking all intimidated and scared and excited and nervous, all rolled into one. And it creates the most attractive combination and he can’t stop staring at you.

You’re an omega, you have to be, judging by your demeanour and your scent – although the intoxicating smell seems to be fading away slowly as the minutes go by. And Steve wonders what exactly you’re doing here. There are barely any girls in this class – and absolutely no omegas. In Steve’s opinion, a World Politics class is no place for an omega to be hanging around – especially one as weak and delicate-looking as you. Maybe you’re lost, because you don’t look like you belong here at all, not in this lecture, and not in this university either – or any other university for that matter.

Steve firmly believes that omegas like you should be at home – cooking or cleaning or waiting patiently on all fours to be fucked by alphas like himself. And that thought – as out of the blue as it was – immediately has his cock thickening in his slacks.

But you stick out like a sore thumb, with your patchy little book bag that looks like it’s been DIY-ed out of a pair of old jeans, and your little sneakers that are still scuffed even though he can tell you’ve tried to scrub them clean and polish them and make them look new. You’re not from here, you’re not like the people he’s grown up with. He’s never seen you before – who the hell are you?

And why do you smell so good?

“Well, well, well – fresh meat.” Bucky is suddenly no longer hungover, eyes alert as he follows Steve’s gaze and locks in on you.

Tiny, little you in the front row of the lecture hall, unpacking all your textbooks and already starting with your notes despite the fact that the lecture hasn’t even begun yet. What could you possibly be writing down? The damn date?

And Steve feels an inexplicable wave of irritation because it’s not just Bucky who’s staring at you. He can see Thor, Andy, Ransom and Curtis, amongst others, lean forward with sick interest gleaming in their eyes at the sight of a little omega like you in their midst.

“She’s gorgeous.” Bucky whistles lowly, nudging Sam, who is also staring at you appreciatively. And it makes Steve want to gouge both their fucking eyes out. And he’s trying to keep his cool but it’s hard to do that when his breath seems to hitch every time he looks at you, and it’s confusing the fuck out of him because you’re just some random omega. And never before has an omega got a reaction like this out of him before.

“She’s probably lost.” Sam snorts, “I wonder if she’s an omega.”

Steve blinks, “She is. Can’t you smell her?”

The two alphas shake their heads before Bucky leans forward on the table to get a better look at you, “She’s probably on suppressants, but she looks like an omega. All shy and weak and shit.” He licks his lips, “That’s really fucking hot, if you ask me.”

Nobody fucking asked you! Steve wants to sneer but he manages to control himself.

“I call dibs.” Bucky announces, sitting up straight and baring his teeth like some sort of comical predator, and never in his life has Steve felt more irritation than how he does right now. Actually, irritation is an understatement – if Bucky wasn’t his best friend since childhood, he’d definitely have punched him in the face or at least verbally insulted him enough to knock him down a few pegs.

Suddenly, Steve’s happy that you’re wearing that ridiculously large hoodie because at least your body’s shielded from all the less-than-innocent gazes that seem to be drinking you in from all angles. And how fucking dare they look at you? When Steve saw you first? Smelled you first??

She’s way below my league, Steve has to remind himself. He’s Steve Rogers, star alpha quarterback and captain of the football team. From one of the most distinguished families in New York, with a future in both the NFL and politics, both with his own talent and his father’s connections.

And then there’s you. With your clothes that clearly look like they’re hand-me-downs, and your scuffed trainers and the fact that you’re probably a nobody scholarship student fresh out of some trashy, no-good neighbourhood. Nope, Steve knows he’s leagues above you, and he knows that the lucky omega he ends up with will be from an esteemed and traditional family. And that’s definitely not you.

So then why does his heart skip a fucking beat when he sees you smile softly at the professor who has just entered the room? And why does he want to rip the professor’s heart out and feed it to him for daring to smile back at you? Dumb fucking asshole professor… Steve could have him fired in a heartbeat. How dare he look at you, how dare Bucky look at you, how dare anyone look at you–

“She’s fucking the professor.”

“Huh?” Bucky stops dead in the middle of explaining his elaborate plan to seduce the class’s newest omega. “What did you say?”

Steve runs his hand through his hair and shoots his friend a smug smile, “I recognise her now. I saw her earlier today when I went to the professor’s office. He had her bent over his desk – and I’m sure it wasn’t the first time.” The lies roll off his tongue smooth as butter, and he feels not a pang of remorse as he watches the dreamy look on Bucky’s face morph into one of disgust.

“Yeah, she’s just a trashy bimbo omega from some small hick town,” Steve continues, relishing the gullible looks of immediate disdain on both Bucky and Sam’s faces. And he knows word will spread fast – it always does around here. “And I’m pretty sure I heard a rumour about a girl sleeping with the dean to gain admission – that was definitely about her too.”

Sam scoffs, “So she’s probably a stupid no-brain slut. As if this place wasn’t going downhill already, now they’re taking in hick-town omegas too.”

Steve narrows his eyes at Bucky, who is still staring longingly at you.

“Hey, Buck. Speaking of slutty omegas – Natasha was asking about you the other day.”

The brunette tears his gaze away from you, “She was?”

Lying comes quite easily to Steve. “Yeah, Sharon mentioned it. Maybe you should give her a call, I know Nat’s an easy slut but at least she doesn’t fuck professors and deans to get herself through college, right?”

Manipulating his friends is almost as easy as lying, and Steve smirks as Bucky finally nods and gets his phone out. And Steve leans back, letting out a sigh of relief because he knows word travels fast, and soon none of these half-wit alphas would be giving you a second glance. And maybe a small part of him knows that spreading this rumour is unfair on you, but in a way, he’s doing you a favour. He’s just protecting you, isn’t he? From all the unwanted attention?

***

Bucky: Heads up, your girlfriend is about to walk in through the front door.

Steve stares at the text for a few seconds, mild irritation brewing inside him. But he feels no real sense of panic or urgency as he glances down at the girl on her knees in front of him – Priya or Ria or something, he can’t remember. Not that it matters anyways. He tugs on her hair, smirking as she protests with her mouth full of his cock.

“Hurry up. My girlfriend’s on her way over.” He informs Priya/Ria, who starts sputtering and trying to push herself off him but Steve keeps her head in place, lazily thrusting in and out of her mouth as he quickly texts Bucky back.

Steve: Stall her for a few minutes.

Bucky replies with a thumbs up and Steve tosses his phone aside, trying to focus on what’s right in front of him. And in this case, it’s a scantily clad girl whose head is currently bobbing up and down on his dick. Steve sighs, clutching her hair harder and increasing the pace of his thrusts, wanting to cum quickly and get rid of her straight after.

He’d already fucked her half an hour ago before taking a smoke break during which she’d unfortunately stuck around. And there’s a part of Steve that doesn’t even care, that wants Sharon to walk in on him getting blown by some random bitch. And it isn’t the first time he’s cheated on her either. The way Steve sees it, why stick to one girl when you could have every single one? And he’s confident that there isn’t a single girl at this university who wouldn’t spread her legs for him.

And then his thoughts fall on you. Fragile, innocent little omega who is now forever labelled as the campus slut. But would you spread your legs for him? Steve bets you’re inexperienced, judging by how shy and studious you look, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get you to sleep with him. Fuck, he can’t help but imagine you on your knees in front of him, eyes wide as saucers and tears dripping down your cheeks as he fucks your face. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He cums embarrassingly quickly, images of you pouting and crying as he shoves his big dick down your throat flashing before his eyes. And God, he knows he can do better than you, better than some lowlife scholarship omega with scuffed trainers and a dumbly peculiar taste in oversized hoodies. Yet he can’t understand why just the singular thought of you blowing him had him cumming faster than Sharon or any of the other girls ever could.

He doesn’t really have time to mull over any of this, however, shoving Priya/Ria off his dick and tossing her clothes at her while she sputters on the floor.

“Get dressed, Sharon’s downstairs.” Steve tucks his dick back into his sweats before grabbing his phone and settling down on his bed.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, why didn’t you tell me she was coming over today? You know she’s head cheerleader this year? If she sees me here, she’ll kick me off the squad!” Priya/Ria laments but Steve is already bored, finding a random Tetris game on his phone more interesting than whatever this bitch is spewing as he lets out a yawn.

Priya/Ria complains and panics for the next three minutes, and Steve doesn’t spare her a second glance as she grumbles her way out the window. Annoying slut. Speaking of which, Sharon bursts into his room not three seconds after Priya/Ria leaves.

“Baby!” Sharon squeals, launching herself at him at top speed, and Steve holds onto her waist gingerly, letting her cover his face in kisses. “I missed you so much!”

She’d been skiing in Vermont with her family for the past two weeks, and it had been a damn good two weeks for Steve. Quiet and peaceful without his girlfriend’s dumb chatter acting as an incessant background noise to his thoughts. In fact, he wouldn’t have minded if she’d extended her trip and stayed away for another two weeks, because hooking up with other girls sure was a lot easier when she was gone.

“I thought about you every night, babe. I really wish you’d come with me!” She gushes, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulders as she straddles his hips. God. Now he has to make conversation with her and pretend he’s interested in her dumb bullshit family life. How has he been keeping up this act for two years now? I mean sure, Sharon’s a good fuck but she’s not that good.

“I told you, it’s football season.” He yawns, hoping she’ll get the hint and fuck off. Or she could stay, he didn’t really care as long as she kept quiet. But Sharon does the complete opposite, instead launching into a whole account about how he should have been there and how good the snow was and how many new outfits she bought and how many pictures she took and blah blah blah. Honestly, all her mindless chatter does is consolidate the fact that he needs to break up with her soon.

“And I would’ve come up to you sooner but Bucky kept talking to me.” Sharon wrinkles her nose, absentmindedly tracing shapes on his chest before laying her head down on it and snuggling up into him. “I think he has a crush on me.”

Steve snorts at that, “Bucky does not have a crush on you.”

She whips her head up, “What makes you so sure?”

Because me and Bucky have the exact same taste in girls and it’s not you, Steve wants to say but he manages to refrain. “He likes quiet girls,” Steve finds himself saying instead except he’s talking more about himself now, “Shy girls who know their place.”

Sharon rolls her eyes, “All you alphas are stuck in the past, aren’t you?” She sighs before bumping her nose against his, “It’s a good thing I lucked out with you, babe. Can you imagine where we’d be if you hadn’t asked me out sophomore year?”

I’d probably be free, Steve thinks to himself. In many ways, he’d been a different person two years ago when he’d asked Sharon out for the first time. He’d always been traditional, wanting to settle down with the right omega after he graduated, definitely have a few children. And even if he had thought Sharon would be his long-term girlfriend-turned wife by the end of college – he certainly didn’t think that anymore.

Nope, Sharon wouldn’t be the one he’d be marrying, she was useful for a good fuck now and again but nothing more than that, not wife material. She definitely wouldn’t be the omega who would eventually carry his children and his legacy.

And then for some unexplained reason, Steve’s mind shifts to you. How shy you were in class, how you kept to yourself with your eyes downcast. He may have falsely labelled you as the campus slut but he was sure you were a virgin, or extremely inexperienced at the very least. And then an image flashes through his mind: you, all knocked up and round with his baby. In a pretty dress of his choosing, cooking him dinner with an obedient smile on your face. Fuck. He feels his cock harden almost immediately.

“Ooh, you missed me, didn’t you?” Sharon sits back up and grinds down on his crotch with a mischievous smile on her face. “I can’t believe you went without sex for two whole weeks. It must’ve been torture for you.”

“You can’t even imagine.” Steve says distractedly. Sharon’s pulling his sweats down and undressing herself but he’s still got his mind on you. God, you’d look so sexy if he got you pregnant. He wouldn’t allow you to wear your stupid hoodies anymore. No, it would be all skirts and dresses – how an omega is supposed to dress. And then he’d bend you over and fuck you real good, like you’ve never been fucked before. Or maybe he’d let you ride him, all pregnant and weepy and shy on top of him, your eyes shining like you worship him…

He's painfully hard now, and Sharon’s jerking him off while he pretends it’s you. You, all innocent and unsure of what you’re doing. Looking up at him and begging him to tell you how to do it, how to please your alpha. You’re a stupid, no-good scholarship omega who is clearly below his league, but in this moment all Steve can think about it how goddamn fucking sexy you’d look holding his cock, or sucking it – or sitting on it.

“Mm, keep going, baby.” Steve murmurs, pretending like you’re in front of him right now instead of his insufferable girlfriend. “Make daddy feel good.”

He’s so deep into his daydream that he doesn’t even notice that Sharon is fully undressed until he feels her line the tip of his dick against her leaking hole. He manages to swat her off just in time, reaching out to rummage through his nightstand drawer and tossing a condom at her.

Sharon’s face falls before she scoffs, “You know, I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t use protection. You never used to.”

“Just put it on.” Steve isn’t in the mood for her bullshit. If he fucked her raw, then she’d most likely get pregnant. Then he’d have to marry her and take care of her – which wouldn’t be ideal, especially since he’s now planning on breaking up with her. But he’s happy he’s trained Sharon well enough to know when he’s not fucking around. Without another word, she unrolls the condom onto his dick before sinking down on it, moaning like a fucking porn-star as she does it.

He flips her over so she’s on her hands and knees and he doesn’t have to look at her. This way, it’s easier to imagine that it’s you. And Steve’s now accepted the fact that if he wants to get off, he’s going to have to think of you. Fuck, he bets you’d cry if he ever fucked you. Either cry or pass out from how good he’d make you feel. He bets you’d beg him to knot you, to give you his babies. And he would. Fuck.

Sharon lets out a moan and a string of curse words along with his name, and Steve has to forcibly shove her face into the pillow to zone her out. Because all he really wants to do is picture you. Fuck, he wishes he could cum inside you, hear you squeak and moan while he completely ruins you for any other man. Except there wouldn’t be any other man because you belong to Steve.

Mine, he thinks with gritted teeth, picturing your nervous little smile when you’d entered the lecture hall that morning, all mine.

***

“A little birdie told me that that little omega is only a freshman.” Bucky says, perking Steve’s interest immediately as they walk into their World Politics lecture a few days later. “Which means she’s either really fucking smart to be taking a senior class, or she fucked her way up.”

“She definitely fucked her way into the class,” Steve finds himself saying, “Omegas aren’t smart, so there’s no way she’d have gotten into the class otherwise.” He feels a wave of irritation, however. A freshman. In a senior class. And an omega, no less. There was no way, no fucking way.

And there you are again, sitting front row with all your pens lined out in front of you like some stupid, eager omega. His nose twitches, trying to sniff your addictive scent but it seems that whatever cheap suppressant you’re taking is extra strong today, because he can’t detect it at all. And this irritates him even more, because, embarrassing as it was, he’d been looking forward to spending the lecture smelling your goddamn fucking scent.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Bucky pipes up when they cross by your table, and you look up immediately. And Steve can feel his heart in his fucking throat because you make direct eye contact with him and not Bucky. The brunette seems unperturbed, however, “I’m Bucky. This is Sam, and this is Steve.”

You look up and nod at each of them. “Hi, Bucky. Hi, Sam. Hello, Steve.”

For a moment, it feels like Steve’s in heaven. And it’s the fucking cheesiest thing in the world, but it’s in the way you say his name. All soft and shy and clearly self-conscious yet in an extremely cute way. Fuck, what was he, fifteen years old? He doesn’t care, though, he wants to hear you say his name again. And preferably not whilst also saying his friends’ names in the same sentence.

And it irritates him that Bucky spoke to you first. Steve had seen you first therefore it only made sense that he should’ve spoken to you first too. It also irritates him how close Bucky and Sam are standing to you, and how you’re shooting them a small smile right this instant.

Steve is silently seething, and Bucky and Sam are grinning at you like you’re some kind of spectacle. You tell them your name (and his heart skips a beat when he hears it, because it fits you perfectly and he feels like he’s known this name all his life).

And then, no one speaks for a while, and he sees you shift slightly, clearly uncomfortable as you bite your lip. For a second, he wishes he could read your mind, but it doesn’t matter because you have the world’s most emotive face. He can practically see your thoughts as they race through your head. He knows that you’re intimidated by him, by all three of them – but that’s nothing new. And then you open your mouth to speak.

“H-How are you guys finding this class so far?” You ask in a voice sweet as honey. And Steve hates how other alphas around the room have whipped their heads towards you again. He hates how Sam’s features have softened as he looks you over, and he hates how Bucky’s got that predatory look in his eye again, the same one he had last time. He knows he has to do something. Fast.

“Funny, we were going to ask you the same thing.” Steve says, and you blink up at him.

“Me? I, uh, I really like it.” You say shyly, and he can tell that you have trouble maintaining eye contact with him but you try your best as you continue, “Some of the concepts are challenging, but I’m really enjoying it.”

“Oh, I bet you’re really enjoying it.” Steve grins, pointedly glancing at the professor before fixing his gaze back on you, innuendo dripping from his tone. Bucky catches on and chuckles, as does Sam.

You look confused, “Um, I don’t understand–”

Sam snorts, “Don’t play dumb.”

“Is it the class you’re enjoying, sweetheart, or what happens after it?” Bucky joins in.

You shake your head, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And sure, there’s a voice at the back of Steve’s head telling him to quit it and back off. That sensible voice that shows its face from time to time, telling him that you don’t deserve this at all. But he chooses to ignore it, and maybe it’s because he’s been irritated ever since he found out you’re a fucking freshman omega in a senior class where you don’t belong. Or since Bucky spoke to you first before Steve could, and he could see that interest in Bucky’s eyes. Either way, he ignores the voice of rationality in his head. He’s Steve fucking Rogers, after all. He can say whatever he wants to.

“Wearing grossly oversized outfits to hide your body won’t hide the fact that you’re a slut.” Steve says it softly, but everyone hears it. And he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the way your head whips up to look at him, the way your lower lip quivers and the way your breath hitches.

“Wh-What? I’m not a… a–”

“A slut? Come on. Everyone knows you spread your legs to get into this class. That’s probably why you sit in the front row, too. So the professor can get a good eyeful of the campus slut before you got to his office after class.” Steve smirks, although it isn’t very satisfying to see your face crumple at his words, and he feels a pang of guilt that he tries his hardest to ignore. You shake your head.

“No! I didn’t–”

“Omegas like you don’t belong in a class like this,” Sam pipes up, and you bow your head. Steve can see your hands trembling under the table as you clasp them in your lap. And God, you look so small, so weak in your big fucking hoodie that nearly swallows you whole. You look like you’re begging for an alpha like him to protect you. But what’s he supposed to protect you from – himself?

He watches you for the rest of the class. You sit there, determinedly taking notes as if three alphas didn’t just embarrass and insult you at the start of the lecture. You don’t ever raise your hand to answer any questions, but Steve can tell that you know all the answers. It’s the way you mouth them cutely, the way you nod when the correct answer is said – as if you knew it all along. It’s the way your nose scrunches in concentration as you read every word of the lecture slides before writing it all down. In a way, he admires your persistence and devotion to your goddamned notes. Omegas are known to be devoted – but to their alphas, not World fucking Politics lectures.

You still look morose and deflated by the time the lecture ends, taking ages to slowly pack your book bag. Sam and Bucky leave, but Steve hangs back. Talk to her! The voice in his head urges him. Tell her you mistook her for someone else, tell her you didn’t mean it! Ask her out! And he lets himself imagine it for a second, asking you out on a date. Picking you up and presenting you with yellow roses, taking you to a restaurant that’s way too fancy for you, and you’d probably be wearing that goddamn hoodie, too.

He almost smiles, before shaking the thought away. I’m not that pathetic, he thinks. Some random scholarship omega isn’t worth taking on a date. There’s a peculiar longing within him but he stuffs it deeper down inside himself. Girls long for him, not the other way around and it’s best if he remembers that.

That doesn’t stop him from following you out of the lecture hall, however. It’s cute, the way you lug your bookbag on your shoulder. You’ve stocked it so full of unnecessary textbooks that it’s weighing you down like a tonne of rocks. His hands itch to help you, but he has to hang back because you don’t know he’s there, and also because you’re now on the phone.

He can’t hear what you’re saying, or who you’re on the phone with. But after a few minutes, your shoulders prop up and the pep in your step returns. Whoever is on the other end of the line – probably a friend or your mom – has managed to cheer you up. He gets close enough to hear you say:

“Yes. I’m going to try harder to make friends. Don’t you worry about me!”

It’s sickening. How cute you sound. And it’s even more sickening how he finds himself following you all the way back to your dorm room, keeping his head low and a small distance between the two of you. And sure, he’s never fucking stalked a girl before and this is definitely unhinged behaviour, but it’s like he can’t help it.

And it’s kind of fun observing you. At one point, you stop in front of a rose bush to smell the delicate flowers. Steve thinks back to how he’d imagined asking you out and giving you a bouquet of yellow roses. He lets himself imagine some more: you bringing the bouquet up to your nose and inhaling gently, a pretty smile on your face as you stand up on your tiptoes to kiss him and tell him thank you.

The picture sits pretty in his mind for a good ten seconds, a smile touching his lips before he aggressively wipes it off. Stop being a sappy fucking loser, he tells himself, before refocusing on his omega. You’re making your way into your dorm building now – it’s one of the cheaper ones on campus. The dorms in there are about the size of postage stamps, and it makes him think of everything he could provide for you: money, clothes, gifts – anything you asked for.

Ask her out! The voice inside his head is beguiling. If he asked you out, he would no longer have to deal with Sharon. If he asked you out, Bucky and the rest of them would all back the fuck up. So then what was stopping him? What was stopping him from marching straight into your stupid tiny fucking dorm room and telling you that he’d pick you up tomorrow at 7 for dinner?

She’s below my fucking league, he reminds himself, although that excuse seems to be getting flimsier and flimsier. He’s distracted from his inner turmoil, however, when he sees you appear in your room through your window. You neatly place your bag on your desk before pulling your hoodie over your head. Steve’s breath catches in his throat, and he watches closely as your tank top is next, joining your hoodie on the floor.

Steve’s lost count of how many girls he’s seen naked in his lifetime, but none of them hold a candle to what he’s seeing right now. The way you slip your leggings down, stepping out of them, now just in your bra and panties. Fuck, you’re so sexy. So fucking sexy, and he can feel himself getting rock hard. And half of him wants to reprimand you, chastise you for being so fucking stupid to be changing without drawing your curtains first. He should take you over his fucking knee for that…

But the other half of him just stands there, transfixed. You wriggle into a tee, your legs still bare and your cute ass on display for a few more seconds before you put on a pair of pyjama shorts. It’s when you sit down on your desk which is facing the window, that he finally backs off. Forcibly ripping his gaze away from you and walking away, the vision of you ingrained deeply in his head.

That night, in the privacy of his shower, he cums harder than he ever has before. Just the sight of you changing replaying over and over again in his brain. Nobody has ever had such an effect on him before, and he wonders what this means. Even after he’s jacked off, he can’t seem to shake you out of his mind. It’s like his eyes are itching to just see you again, drink you in again.

Finally, from the depths of one of his drawers, Steve pulls out an old sketchbook that his mother had bought for him on one of his birthdays. She was the only one who knew that he could draw, and she kept encouraging him to do it despite the fact that Steve hadn’t touched an art supply for years now. But it’s like his fingers are itching to put the images in his head down on paper.

And once he starts drawing, it’s like he can’t stop. It comes so naturally to him, like he’s known your face for years and committed it to his memory. He draws you sitting front row during the lecture, trying his hardest to capture that look of concentration on your face, the furrow of your brow, the way you bite your lip. He even draws you in your ridiculously oversized hoodie, how it practically swallows you whole. And he finds himself smiling at how cute you look in it – despite the fact that omegas aren’t supposed to wear things like that.

One thing becomes abundantly clear to Steve that night. He wants you. He wants to own you. He doesn’t want you to belong to anybody else, not now and not ever. But aren’t you out of his league? So then what? Just fuck her once and get her out of your system, he tries to tell himself. But would that be enough? Girls have always been easy subjects for Steve, but for the first time in his life, he finds himself confused, and his thoughts seem to be at war with each other.

It's only been a week since he first laid eyes on you but it’s like he can’t get you out of his head. He wants you to be his, yet at the same time he can’t believe that he’s fallen for some random scholarship omega. Fallen? No, he hasn’t fallen for you. It’s just lust. Just lust. Just. Lust.

It has to be, right?

***

The next World Politics lecture falls on a Friday – and it’s been three whole days since Steve has last seen you. Three torturously long days filled with Sharon’s irritating squawking and incessant presence in his room. Steve finds that she no longer makes him hard, and every time he fucks her, he finds himself longing for you in her place. You wouldn’t howl so annoyingly when you came, or scratch at his back like a stupid bitch. Actually, he wouldn’t mind if you scratched his back while he fucked you dumb into the mattress, your eyes glazed over and tears running down your cheeks as he knots inside you again and again.

And that’s what Steve’s daydreaming about before the start of the lecture, when he feels a light tap on his shoulder.

“Ex-Excuse me?”

He turns around and his heart skips a beat. You. In a huge green hoodie, almost eye level to him despite the fact that he’s sitting down and you’re standing up. Fuck, you look really cute, all shy as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. And Steve isn’t used to girls coming up to him. He knows he’s very intimidating, as are Bucky and Sam, who have now also turned to gawk at the little omega standing in front of the three of them.

Steve doesn’t know what to do, because up until a second ago he was in the middle of imagining you naked underneath him while he fucked you so hard you saw stars. And now here you are, standing before him with a Tupperware container in your hands, looking uncomfortable and shy as ever.

“Look who it is, Little Miss Campus Slut.” Sam is the first to speak.

Steve watches you blink and take a deep breath before you speak. “H-Hello, Steve. Sam. Bucky.” You nod at each of them, and Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the sound of you saying his name – he just wishes he wasn’t lumped in with his friends every time.

“I th-think we – uh – I think we all got off on the wrong foot last time,” Your voice shakes as you speak, and Steve finds your stutter kind of cute. “I kn-know you guys were probably joking but, I – uh…” You swallow, and Steve has to admire your guts. He can tell you’re practically shitting yourself with how nervous you look. You shake your head and smile softly, “I made these. For you. I mean, all three of you. As a kind of peace offering.”

You open the Tupperware container and hold it out towards him. Inside, there are about a dozen brownies, cut into neat little squares. The smell alone is heavenly, and he can see that some of them have pieces of caramel oozing out. From his peripheral, he can see Bucky lick his lips.

“I baked them this morning,” You say proudly, “A friend of mine told me that there’s nothing a batch of brownies can’t solve. So, these are for you, and maybe now we could be friends?”

Sweet, naïve, innocent. God, you’re everything Steve wants in a girl. And for a second, he lets his thoughts run wild again. This time, he imagines you baking brownies for him – solely him – in a big house he’s bought for the two of you. You’re heavily pregnant and wearing a cherry print apron, and you sit on his lap while you serve him the freshly baked brownies. An alpha and his little omega, knocked up and completely devoted to him. A perfect family. The perfect life.

Which is why it makes little sense when he slaps his hand upwards, knocking the container out of your hand and sending the brownies flying everywhere, landing on the floor in a sorry heap by your feet. Sam and Bucky burst out laughing, and Steve smiles coolly, although he doesn’t really feel like smiling on the inside. Why did he do that?

Because she’s a stupid scholarship omega, and I can do whatever I want, he answers his own question but even he has to admit that his reasoning is less than satisfactory.

Your eyes widen in shock before your face crumples, “Wh-Why would you do that?”

Steve shrugs, “It’s not very nice of you to try and feed us your weird, contaminated brownies. I mean, we don’t know where your hands have been, do we? Oh wait, we do.” He looks pointedly at the professor at the front of the room before looking back at you, a smug smile on his face that he tries hard not to let falter when he sees the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

“I worked re-really hard on those.” You look like you’ve wilted, and there’s that one part deep inside him – maybe his soul? – telling him how fucked up he is for doing what he’s just done. But it’s just a joke, he justifies to himself.

“Don’t get all emotional just because we don’t want your STD brownies.” Steve says, trying hard to keep stone-faced as he watches you flinch and gasp at his words.

“I-I-I don’t have an STD!”

“I-I-I don’t care.” Steve mimics your stutter, making his voice all high-pitched. Sam and Bucky laugh again, along with a bunch of other people who are within earshot. And the look of hurt that crosses your face seems to ingrain itself in his brain, searing him from the inside out till he almost feels sick. Fuck. Why did he keep going?

Because she doesn’t matter, he tells himself. He’s made fun of billions of others in the past, and this shouldn’t be any different, right?

With your lower lip quivering, you swallow back your tears. And he’s surprised when he sees you narrow your eyes at him, “Th-That was really mean.”

And maybe it’s because you’re glaring at him and he doesn’t like that, or maybe it’s because you look so fucking small – standing there with your chin upturned and hands shaking in anger at being wronged. But Steve feels himself getting hard – rock hard. Part of him wants to gather your quivering body in his arms and kiss you and hug you and protect you from it all. But a larger part of him feels this strong need, this hunger, to control you. You look so small, so hurt, so submissive. He can see licks of anger through the tears in your eyes, however, and he wants to snuff it out. Control you completely. Make you bend to his will and listen to his every command.

“Y-You shouldn’t have done that.” You say quietly and Steve narrows his eyes.

“Shouldn’t have done what, omega?” He chews the word around, savours it before spitting it out, and he loves how your eyes widen at being called by your designation. He’s never called anyone by their designation before, and the surge of power he feels over you when he does? Fuck, it’s irreplaceable.

“Th-That’s not my name.” You try and stand your ground but really, it’s not like you’re any match for him. “Don’t call me that – p-please.”

“Why not? That’s what you are, after all. Your name doesn’t matter to me – whatever it is.” (He knows exactly what your name is, because he’s spent the past few days thinking about how great it would sound if you put his last name next to it, but that’s beside the point).

“And I don’t think you’re in any position to tell me what to do, omega.” He adds smoothly, noting how you bow your head in submission, but there are still angry tears glistening in your eyes and he can see your hands balled into fists by your sides, and you’re opening your mouth as if to argue with him. Snuff it out, he tells himself, snuff out any fight she has left in her.

“Don’t think you can talk back to an alpha. Just because you fucked your way into college doesn’t mean the rest of us are going to give you special treatment.” He says, every one of his words dripping in acid. And he wonders how far he can take it, how much further he can control you…

“Now, I want you to keep your mouth shut, walk back over to your seat and sit down and remain silent for the rest of the class.” He orders you before shooting you a smirk. “Now.”

He watches your eyes widen when you realise that it’s an alpha command, and then you’re walking away, head down and an empty Tupperware container in your hand. And the pure power trip Steve gets from it all has adrenaline and excitement pumping through his veins and straight down to his cock. Fuck. He’s never alpha-commanded an omega like this before. Sharon sometimes but it’s never been as gratifying as this.

It's in your stance, how weak and little you look as you walk dejectedly back to your seat. You’ve listened to him, and the power he gets from that is unbeatable. And addicting. He wants to feel it again. Sure, he’s always been domineering with girls but with you, it’s different. You’re different. So perfect and shy, so pretty and submissive… Fuck, he’s so hard now.

He leans back in his seat, staring at you while you get your books out with shaky hands. That’s when he notices that you’re crying, your hands keep reaching up to wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie and your shoulders quiver uncontrollably. Shit. Steve had made you cry, and his heart pangs with guilt. But it’s confusing, because there’s a dark part of him that’s so turned on right now, that wants to lick your tears up then embarrass you some more. Then you’d cry some more and he’d push you down to your knees, shove his cock in your mouth and really give you something to cry about.

But he also wants to gather you in his arms, hold you in his lap and comfort you. Tell you that he didn’t mean it, that he doesn’t know why he’s doing all this. Well, he does know why – but sometimes he isn’t convinced by his own rationale. Control you. Comfort you. Control you. Comfort you. Control you–

“Hey, these are pretty good.” Bucky’s voice knocks Steve out of his reverie, and he looks down to see his friend scooping up pieces of brownie off the ground.

Sam groans, “Please tell me you’re not eating the floor-brownies.”

“What? They’re good!” Bucky defends himself with a mouthful of the sweet treat. “Shit, you know what? I wouldn’t even mind getting an STD. I think she’s worth it. So fucking hot and she bakes too? I wonder what else she can do.”

Steve rolls his eyes, wanting nothing more than to punch Bucky in the skull for calling his omega hot. Because of course, Steve’s already consolidated in his mind that you’re his. He just has to figure out what exactly he wants from you. For now, however, he’s content with staring at you from afar, and imagining how pretty you’d look baking brownies for him and bending over while he made you cum on his knot over and over again.

***

“You know, I’d let you mark me if you wanted to.” Sharon says one day, out of nowhere. Steve’s walking her to one of her classes (or more like, she’d seen him walking with his friends and dragged him away).

Steve barks out a laugh, “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you? We’re both seniors, about to graduate and we’re in a serious, committed relationship.” Sharon squeezes his hand, and Steve feels a sudden urge to throw up. What a dumb fucking idiot Sharon was, as if he’d ever mark her. He’s still trying to figure out how to break up with her – he absolutely hates talking to her and he doesn’t even consider her a good fuck anymore. She’s lucky he’s kept her around for this long, yet has the audacity to talk about marking.

“You shouldn’t be thinking about things like that.” He says, hoping to drop the subject but of course, she doesn’t seem to want to let it go.

“Come on, babe. I remember back when we first started going out, you told me that you wanted to marry me and have a ton of kids! I remember thinking how cute you sounded when you said that.”

Steve doesn’t even have the energy to correct her. Sure, he’d said that he was a traditional alpha just like his father. He wanted to get married young and have kids young too. However, he’d never mentioned wanting all of this with Sharon, but of course the dumb bitch had selective hearing and liked to make stuff up, but that wasn’t Steve’s fault.

He lets her talk for the duration of their walk up to her lecture, and all he contributes is a disinterested grunt now and again. But Sharon loves the sound of her own voice, so she doesn’t seem to notice his lack of interest in conversing with her. Finally, outside her lecture hall, she stands up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. And it’s while he’s kissing his girlfriend that Steve feels a prickle in the back of his neck. Almost like he’s being watched.

He opens his eyes, looking straight ahead beyond Sharon’s shoulder. And there you are, sitting in the courtyard. You look like a fucking angel, bathing in the sunlight that peaks out at you through the branches of the tree you’re sat underneath. And you’ve got this almost curious look on your face as you watch him kiss his girlfriend. He makes eye contact with you for about five magical seconds before you realise that he’s watching you, all while his lips move against Sharon’s.

Quickly, you bury your nose in the book you’re reading, and he can see your eyes widening in alarm. Somehow, he knows your heart’s racing – because his is too. And he feels this longing for you, wishing so bad that it was you he was kissing instead of Sharon. But you’d been watching him! What did that mean? Maybe you liked him how he likes you?

I don’t like her! He tells himself stubbornly, she’s below my league… But he doesn’t know who he’s kidding with that excuse anymore.

Bidding Sharon goodbye, he can’t help but feel this gravitational pull, tugging him over to you. For a second, he imagines sitting down next to you, asking you what you’re reading and watching as you happily tell him. And he’d be interested in what you have to say, because you’re not a stupid bitch like Sharon or any of the other girls on campus. You’re special. And so beautiful.

He watches as you slowly lose yourself in whatever book you’re reading, and you’ve got a fucking juice-box next to you which you sip on every so often. God, could you be any cuter? You look so innocent, and for one dark second, he wishes he could just take you and lock you up in his house. You’d be safe over there, inside the house and away from any college like a good, traditional little omega. And he’d buy you a whole library full of books to keep you happy, and you’d cook and clean and dote on him and carry his babies, and that would make him happy.

Steve finds himself walking over, casting a shadow over your figure as he looms above you, and you look up at him fearfully. Fuck. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the way you’re looking at him right now. Like you’re wary, scared – like he’s this formidable alpha that could completely ruin you – which is all true.

“Well, well, well. Look who it is.” He says softly, and you gulp.

“H-Hello, Steve.” You attempt a smile but you’re shaking like a leaf. And he’s surprised that you’re still greeting him nicely despite how horrible he was to you in the last lecture.

“What are you doing?” He asks, but it comes out sounding like a demand.

“Just reading.” You answer, and he can see that you’re trying to hide your shaking hands. The book rests open in your lap, and you look so sweet, sitting down by his feet. It makes him imagine nasty things, like wanting to pull you forward by your hair, make you mouth at his crotch in front of everyone in this courtyard, make you beg for his alpha cock before he shoves it down past your quivering lips.

Which is why it doesn’t make much sense when, in one fluid motion, he steps down hard on your juice-box, the liquid spurting out and splattering all over your top, and the open book too, immediately leaving large, blotchy stains on both.

“Oh no!” You lament, panic overtaking your features as you immediately begin to fan out the book, shaking it and trying to get the water out. But all Steve can focus on is your wet top – it’s oversized but it’s not a hoodie, at least – and the way it clings to your skin. You’re so fucking hot, and you don’t even realise it – you seem more preoccupied by the damn book.

“It was a library book!” You say quietly, tears forming in your eyes and Steve feels another pang of guilt because he’s made you cry again. “I can’t… I can’t afford…” Your voice trails off.

Steve smirks, “You can’t afford to replace the book, can you?” It consolidates every assumption he’d made about you. You come from nothing and you’re a no one, with your hand-me-down clothes and DIY bookbag. He truly could give you anything and everything you’d ever want, and he lets himself imagine it. Him buying you bags and bags of clothes, helping you put them on, dressing you up like his own little doll that smells sweet like magnolias and is devoted to him. He bets you’d be so thankful – you’re not used to any kind of riches after all – and you’d worship him in return.

And all of this gives him an idea. A way to exert even more control over you, and give you a bit in return too. Grabbing his wallet from his jacket pocket, he fishes out a hundred-dollar bill. You’re too busy trying to shake the liquid off your book that you don’t even notice it when he reaches forward and tucks the crisp note into the hemline of your top.

You gasp, “What’s… What’re you doing?”

“You know that report we have due next week, don’t you?” Steve muses, scanning your face carefully. He sees your throat bob as you swallow, hanging onto his every word as you hold the hundred-dollar bill between your fingers gingerly. “Why don’t you do mine for me, omega?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “Th-That’s dishonest! And I have my own report to do–” You try to hand him the money back but he bats your hand away. And he knows he could easily use an alpha-command on you and make you exactly what he asks of you, just like how he made you walk away in the lecture last time after the brownie incident.

But he craves true control over you, and maybe he can manipulate you? Mould your pretty little mind into wanting to please him? He knows you’re biologically wired to please him; your base omega desires want nothing more than to make an alpha proud – he knows that. He could play into that, use that. Manipulate you, and find out just how far he can take this sweet control over you.

“Come on, omega, I really think you should do my report.” Steve keeps his voice even, his eyes boring into yours with intensity, and you look like you’re about to melt under his gaze. “Otherwise, you’ll disappoint me. And you don’t want to disappoint me, do you?

Almost as if you’re hypnotised, you shake your head no. And Steve can’t believe how easy this is, and he wonders whether his scent smells good to you, and whether it has any effect on you. It must do… because you look like you’re about to turn into putty in his hands.

“B-But it’s cheating.” You whisper.

“That doesn’t matter. You’re going to do my report for me, and you’re going to put all your effort into it. Because at the end of the day, that’s the only thing an omega like you is good for. Pleasing an alpha. You want to please me, don’t you?”

He loves how he can practically read every single thought that crosses inside that pretty little head of yours. He loves the look of conflict on your face, how you’re trying to fight against your base desires. It makes him feel powerful, strong – how someone can have that much control over another human being, it thrills him.

Finally, you nod, and whisper a delicate “okay” that goes straight to Steve’s dick. You’re so beautiful and submissive, he can’t help but reach out to tap your cheek condescendingly. What a good girl, he wants to say, but that would be overdoing it. Instead, he just smirks and leaves, loving how you sit there, stunned and with the hundred still between your thumb and forefinger.

He goes home that day and jerks off thinking about you and all the power he exerted over you today. How easy it was to make you cry, then manipulate you into doing exactly what he wanted you to. He pumps his dick to the thought of how innocent you are, how sweet and pretty and how you’re everything he’s ever wanted in a girl – he just didn’t know it until now.

He also thinks about what you’re going to do with the money he gave you. Replacing the library book wouldn’t cost that much, and he hopes you spend the rest of the hundred on clothes or jewellery for yourself. That way, it would be like he bought something for you, he bought it for you and now you’re wearing it on your skin. Something he bought. Because you belong to Steve. And then he cums hard, slapping the bathroom wall so hard that one of the tiles chips.

Then, he cleans off and gets his sketchbook out. He draws you sitting under the tree with your little juice-box. He makes sure to make the drawing as detailed as possible, down to the top you were wearing and the way you looked so engrossed in your book. At the last second, he adds one more detail. A jagged mark on the side of your neck. His mark. Then he slams his sketchbook shut and buries it under his bed.

You give Steve his finished report only two days later, at the start of the next lecture. Quietly, you scurry up to him and wordlessly hold out the typed-up paper placed neatly in a binder. He snatches it from you, making sure to remain stone-faced except you don’t even make eye-contact with him – which is mildly irritating. But he guesses you’re too scared of him, and this proves to be true because you quickly walk back to your seat as soon as he takes the report from you.

Sam whistles lowly, “Out of everyone in this class, you made the slut omega do your paper?”

“Good luck redoing the whole thing, unless you want an F.” Bucky adds.

Steve opens the report to scan through it, and the hundred-dollar bill flutters out from where it was tucked in the first page. Huh. You’d returned the money. His heart can’t help but sink, because here he was trying to help you and you’d thrown it back in his face. Curiously, he watches you in your usual seat in the front row. You’re texting someone on your phone and he feels a wave of jealousy. Was there someone else taking care of you? A boyfriend?

He pushes that thought out of his mind as soon as it enters it. No. You’re too sweet, too pure to have a boyfriend. You’re a lonely little omega, and the only person who talks to you on campus is Steve. That’s how he’s painted you in his head and that’s what you are.

But now he wants to find out more about you. And it’s easy enough, going to the admin office and flirting with one of the secretaries. Easily noting down the password to the computer that had all the freshman student details on it, and when the giggling secretary excused herself to go to the bathroom, he quickly typed in your name.

And all your information pops up on the screen in front of him. Home address (some random, desolate hick-town, just as he suspected), your phone number (he quickly saves it on his phone) as well as your mother’s contact details. No father. Interesting. It meant you probably had some sort of daddy issues that Steve could undoubtedly take advantage of in the future.

Back in his own room, Steve stares at your number on his phone. He could easily call you right this instant, or text you. He could thank you for doing his report and offer to take you out. And then he’d show up at your doorstep with a bouquet of yellow roses, take you to the most expensive restaurant in town and then he’d drive up to a great spot he knows, where the two of you could stargaze and then he’d kiss you for the first time before taking you to the backseat of his car and making love to you, all soft and sweet – because you’re soft and sweet.

Steve has to forcibly push these sappy thoughts out of his head. He’s not a lovesick fifteen-year-old kid, for fucksakes! He’s an alpha, way above the league of some small, hick-town omega who comes from a broken home. It’s just lust, he reminds himself, lust and control. That’s all you want with her, Steve. Remember that.

Weeks go by where Steve doesn’t miss a chance when it comes to bullying you. It’s just an extremely easy thing to do, despite the fact that sometimes, it feels like he’s putting his heart through a shredder when he sees you bow your head and cry. Why can’t he just leave you alone? Why is he so goddamned obsessed with you?

He stares at you a lot, too. And sometimes, he finds you staring back at him before you quickly look away. She has a crush on me, too! He thinks to himself before shaking his head and trying to focus on something else. But he can’t. You’re everywhere. Even when he hooks up with other girls now, he picks ones out who have the same features as you. Same hair colour, same skin-tone. That way, it’s easier to pretend it’s you when he’s fucking them from behind.

But it’s not you. You’d be so much better. So much sweeter, so much more subservient. And Steve wants you so bad, it’s starting to become a physical need.

He, along with Bucky and Sam, sit in the row behind you on the day everyone gets their graded reports back. He does it so he can catch another whiff of your scent which he hasn’t smelled since the first day he saw you. But to no avail – your suppressants are too fucking strong and this irritates him no end.

Bucky and Sam spend the lecture poking fun at you, juvenile jokes which Steve doesn’t even find funny despite the fact that he’s the one who started the whole ‘campus slut’ movement in the first place.

But from his position behind you, he can see you type in your passcode to unlock your phone, and subconsciously he commits it to his memory. He wonders who you text and call, what friends you have. Ever since he looked you up on the computer system, he just wants to know every single thing about you. And he knows he’s acting like a fucking creep – sometimes he has the strong urge to just grab you and smell you, smell your hair and your neck and just bury his nose into you. It’s insane. No other girl has made him feel like this, but it’s like he can’t help it.

Steve gets an A+ on his report, and when he glances at you holding your own paper, he sees you got an A+ too. Which means you submitted two top tier research papers. A smart omega, he thinks to himself. And he hates that you’re smart. Well, he admires you for it but he hates that he admires it. Because you shouldn’t be here writing reports on world politics. No, you should be inside a kitchen. Or in his bed.

He watches you smile and clasp your hands together, clearly happy with your grade. And he hangs back again, waiting for Bucky and Sam to leave at the end of the lecture before he approaches you.

“Congratulations, omega. Did you let the professor put it up your ass so he’d give you the highest grade in class?” Steve asks nonchalantly.

But this time, you don’t even protest against his lie, or even look at him. No, you keep your gaze diverted, staring intensely at the floor before you scrunch your eyes up. Shit. You’re well and truly afraid of him – he can practically see you shaking. And is it possible to feel bad yet get hard at the same time? Steve doesn’t know anymore, he’s always hard when he’s in your presence.

He watches you scurry away, looking intimidated beyond belief. And as you leave, you accidentally brush up against him. Your whole body, brushing up against his front, and Steve feels like someone’s kicked him in the fucking balls because it winds him. His heart seems to skip several beats and he feels like he can’t breathe.

Your body had only made contact with his for a few seconds at most, but he can’t believe the effect it had on him. Your soft little body, like a boost of serotonin straight to his heart. And his cock. Fuck. You practically half-run out of the room in a bid to get away from him, and you have no fucking clue that you’ve left him reeling. He’s 6’6 and weighs about 240 pounds but an unassuming little omega has almost knocked him off his feet.

And this incenses him. It embarrasses him. It confuses him.

I need to fuck her; he thinks to himself. I need to feel her again. Claim her. Make her mine.

Maybe then I’ll get her out of my system once and for all.

A/N: And there we go! i know yall may be a bit disappointed since this does not advance the plot at all and nothing really happened but!! this is just meant to be an insight into Steve’s head!! i know a lot of you want to know what he was thinking so here you go!! I do want to note that he DOES come across as a fucking psycho askfsdajkfn but he’s a dark character what can i say??? He develops a lot from here tho! ANYWAYS, please leave feedback, i’d love to know what you think! I hope you enjoyed!! bye dhfsdnk

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #dark steve rogers #mcu #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans x reader

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aalyssah · 2 years

Text

Don’t Touch What’s Mine!

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Angst/Fluff, Praise, Killing, Torture, Cursing, Yelling, Sexual Assault, Fluff, Aftercare, and more Minors DNI 18+

Word Count: 1,413

Summary: A man tries to have his way with you not knowing you're married to a mafia man.

A/N: This is my first mob oneshot I hope you Enjoy!

Y/n was just a normal 28 year old women that many feared. That is because she is married to the one and only James "Bucky" Barnes. He's not the leader of the mafia he IS the mafia.

Everyone knows not to mess with him, but god forbid anyone that does anything to his wife that means makes her sad, mad, or uncomfortable you won't wake up the next morning. Y/n found that out a week ago.

A Week Ago:

Y/n works as an interior designer that decorates houses. Everyone likes your ideas and that what makes you love your job.

You have seen a lot of beautiful houses, but nothing compares to you and Bucky's house but, the house you were focusing on was for a family of 3. Mom, Dad, and Daughter. You walked in and was greeted by a beautiful looking women maybe mid 30s and ya'll began to talk about what she was wanting in her house.

In the corner of your eye you can see a man staring at your ass, but you didn't say anything and continue talking to the wife. After you were done talking you went to a mini table to start planning.

The man walked up and said "Hey you look real pretty are you from around here" You looked up said "Sorry I'm taken but thanks" smiling at the thought of Bucky. "What's your name?" You ask wanting to know who he was. "Josh Miller" He said confidently. “Your turn.” He sung. "Y/n Barnes.”

He looked down and saw your ring and said, "Your married to someone with the last name Barnes? How about Miller. Y/n Miller, that has a ring to it, doesn't it?"

You were trying to be professional but he was talking about your husband so you kindly said "Yes I am and if that's a problem you can talk to him yourself" He was kinda shocked because he didn't expect sass out of you. "Feisty I like it"

You were disgusted and then remembered that the women's last name was also Miller.?"Aren't you married?" He leaned closer to you, so he was near your ear. "She doesn't have to know about it." He had a smirk on his face.

You were getting uncomfortable so you got up and went to the bathroom. You needed a moment to collect yourself. You've never been in a situation were men were preying on you because Bucky is protective, but now that he's not here you're on your own.

All of a sudden the door opened to the bathroom and came through the door was Josh. "You thought you could run and hide? I can do so much better than your husband, just admit it, you want me." You were backed up against the wall. He started tracing your body with his hands, staring with groping your breast and kissing your neck. You pushed him back. "No I don't. I'm happily married and my husband can do everything that you can and can't do!"

This must have pissed him off because you saw anger in his eyes. You didn't waste a second to kick him where the sun don't shine and ran out the bathroom to the front door. You ran down the street not caring about the looks people gave you. When you thought you were a good enough distance you called Bucky.

Bucky's POV

As I was in a meeting I got a phone call from my lovely wife Y/n, I picked it up and answered. "Hey baby ho-" Before I could finish I got cut off. "B-Bucky there was a guy and he tried to do s-something please hurry, I'm s-scared!” I got up so fast and started walking to the car I noted how out of breath she sounded.

"Baby share your location now." I said in a stern yet soft voice. "Bucky" She whimpered. "He's coming"

Y/n POV

You was on the phone with Bucky when you got grabbed by Josh. "Stop running, you will be mine weather you like it or not!" All of a sudden you heard car tires screeching on the road and walked out was Bucky and his guards and he looked pissed.

"If you don't get your fucking hands off my wife I will make sure they're off your body!" Bucky said his voice laced with venom. Josh immediately let go scarred for his own safety. Bucky instantly pulled you in his arms as you started crying. He looked at his men. "Bring him home to the basement."

Bucky lead you to the car and held you all while whispering in your ear things like 'You did so good, darling without me.' and 'You're such a strong woman'. Bucky texted the maid’s telling them to get a warm bath ready and for them to cook your favorite food.

Once you got home you could see gaurds dragging Josh down to the basement. Bucky lead you upstairs to the bathroom slowly taking your clothes off. He saw the bruises on your neck and got even more angrier, but pushed it to the side when he heard "Bucky, please stay with me." Bucky looked back at you. He saw how desperate and scared you liked so he stripped and got in the bath, slowly washing you.

"B-Bucky I tried to stop him" You said shaking. He shushed you saying it's not you’re fault and that you don't have to worry about him anymore and got up grabbed a towel and took you to the bed

He grabbed one of his shirts and a pair of panties and dressed me.

After that he got dressed and put on my favorite show and went downstairs to get the food. He came back and feed me slowly waiting for you. He decided to wait till you went to sleep to go do his "business". He grabbed you pulled the covers up and cuddle you until you fell asleep knowing you’re safe and protected.

Bucky POV

Y/n fell asleep so I made my way down to the basement. There I saw a glorious site. (Not as good as a naked Y/n). The fucker that tried touching my wife tied to a chair with tables on the side filled with different weapons.

I slowly walked over and took off the cloth off his mouth and said "So you think you can touch my wife and get away with it!?" Josh then responded "I-I didn't touch her she's lying s-she's f-framing me!" I let out a chuckle "So your calling my wife a liar?!" | yelled.

All color drained from Josh face. "N-n-no sir she just mad that I'm m-married and have a d-daughter so she s-set me up." he said stuttering. Bucky took a moment to think "So your married....What will your wife and daughter think when your body is sitting on the porch of your house?"

“No p-please. She’s just mad that I'm m-married and have a d-daughter so she s-set me up." Josh said stuttering. Bucky took a moment to think "So your married....What will your wife and daughter think when your body is sitting on the porch of your house?"

"Please don't kill me promise it won't happen again." He plead. "Oh don't worry you're right it won't happen again." With that being said Bucky took the pliers and twisted his fingers one by one smiling satisfied as he heard the cracks and screams of the man.

His guards watched in terror thinking what if they were in that position. "SO YOU GONNA TELL ME WHY YOU THOUGHT TOUCHING MY WIFE, Y/N BARNES, WAS ACCEPTABLE!?" I yelled. I was beyond pissed. “I'm sorry I-..... thought she was-... s-single." He cried taking breaths. "Well it's a shame that your wife and daughter isn't going to have a husband and father in their life." Bucky said picking up brass knuckles.

Bucky punched him square in the nose hearing the crack and seeing blood coming on his face. He started punching Josh in the jaw, throat, legs everywhere he could to release the anger he felt for this man.

After he thought there was enough of that he asked his men to untie him and leave the room.

His men untied him and left. Bucky grabbed a bat and started swinging at him beating him to the the ground blood was spilling under his body and the bones cracking was just as deadly. He couldn't even scream anymore. "P-pl-" Before he could finish, Bucky pulled out his gun and shot him 5 times. "DON'T TOUCH WHAT'S MINE!" He yelled.

Satisfied Bucky went to the bathroom downstairs so he wouldn't wake up Y/n and showered, Change, and went to bed. He pulled you close with a smile on his face knowing your safe.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader

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sparklefics · 3 months

Text

Fire Escapades (2)

Teenagers/40s!Bucky & Reader

Summary: Teenagers in love who are very serious about their feelings.

A/N: Finally I felt inspired to write again :) Reading part 1 is a must here. :P

Fluffy feels ahead! <3 🥰

WC:786

[Masterlist]

“James Buchanan Barnes, get out here right this second!!”

“Oh no. She Buchanan-ed me, she knows you’re here.” Bucky groans.

“You don’t know that for sure.” You say as you untangle yourself from his arms. You suggest going back to your fire escape.

Bucky agrees with you and once you’re out of his room he opens the door and his mama bursts through like a nervous wreck.

“Jamie! Oh honey!”

“Ma, what’s wrong?”

“Mrs. Y/L/N just got back from work and her girl’s gone!”

“Gone, what do you mean gone?” Bucky hated lying to his mom but for you he’d do just about anything.

You managed to get back into your room seeing as the window was now unlocked and wide open. Quickly you get rid of Bucky’s blue sweater and walk out of your room nonchalantly.

“Oh Winnie I just don’t know what to do—”

“Mom? Mrs. Barnes– Bucky? What’s going on?”

Your mom runs over and hugs you then pinches your arm. “Where were you, young lady?!”

“I was just in my room, mom.”

“I swear if you were with that Hodge guy, Y/N I already told you I don’t like him. You’re not to see him again.” Your mom threatened while Bucky stood there barely suppressing a smile. “Why can’t you get a nice boy like Barnes. Winnie’s son is a nice young man, appropriate.”

If only your mom knew how inappropriate you two already had been last night.

“Well, actually I–” Bucky tried to interrupt but you cut him off.

“Shut it, Barnes!”

“Y/N! Don’t be rude.” Your mom scolded you and turned back to Bucky’s mom. “Winnie, darling can you stop by for tea after lunch?”

“It’d be my pleasure.”

___________________________

While Winnie and your mom have tea…

You sit on the fire escape again, this time Bucky joins you. The excuse for him being there was sharing your English literature book Bucky had ‘misplaced’ his. So you sat there pressed up against Bucky, your head gently resting on his shoulder and his left arm wrapped around your waist.

“I’m afraid he won’t come back, my father,” you took a deep breath as you confessed your deepest fears to Bucky. “I’m afraid he’s going to die in this war, Buck. I can’t–” you let your sobs escape. Bucky holds you as you slowly stop crying, giving you forehead kisses and squeezing your hand.

He gently squeezed your hand again to get your attention. “Darlin, I know that I should wait for him for this but I’ll ask your momma if I have to. I’ll ask her today for her blessing. I want to marry you, take care of you–even your mamma. God forbid your father doesn’t make it back, I want you to feel safe and taken care of.”

“Buck, that’s sweet but aren’t we too young?”

“My dad married my ma when they were just fifteen. We’re almost eighteen. I don’t see the difference.” Bucky pressed his lips to your forehead. “Would you want to? I’m sorry I didn’t really ask. Would you like to marry me?”

Bucky stares down at you with his big blue shiny eyes, full of affection for you. You couldn’t say no even if you wanted to. “James, it would be a dream come true. Yes. I would love to marry you.”

Bucky takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “I need a minute to talk with our mothers. I’ll be right back.”

Bucky untangles himself from you and turns back to sneak into your house through your bedroom window, only to find his mom, your mom and your dad staring back at him.

“Umm, Sir I can explain.” Bucky starts as he tumbles through the open window.

“Sir?” You turn around, “Dad?!” you screech.

You scramble to get into your room but as soon as you do, your dad pulls you into his arms. And all you can do is cry happy tears. “You’re back!”

He buries his face in your hair and hums happily. “I am darling. I’m home.” He smiles down at you and squeezes your cheeks and drops a kiss to your forehead. Your dad makes eye contact with Bucky, who stands by behind you. “You have our blessing, son.”

“You…approve? But- but we’ve only just met.” Bucky stammers like an idiot.

“I heard– we all did, we heard what you said to my little girl. I know enough, James Buchanan Barnes, y/n would ramble on and on about you on the letters I got from home.”

“Dad!” You groaned and buried your face into his chest. “You’re embarrassing me.”

Bucky extended his hand to your father, “Please, sir, call me Bucky.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fic #40s!bucky #40s bucky #teenage!bucky #teenagers #sparklefics

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buckyalpine · 1 year

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In desperate need of some more dad bucky 🥺

18+

Dad Bucky from A to Z, everything from sweet to sexy to some raw moments with daddy Bucky.

A - Always worried about you and his babies. When he’s away on missions, you can’t pull him away from facetime, he has to see you, he has to see his little ones. Sometimes he packs a few of their books with him so he can read them a bedtime story. Once their asleep and tucked in, he asks his beautiful babymama what she did all day, giving you all the kisses over the phone until he can see you again.

B - Baby fever. Seeing his chubby bubbas make’s his heart so full. After they start to walk and talk and run around, he can’t help but long for more little ones. When Sam comes around with his newborn nephew, Bucky can’t help but glance over at you bouncing your toddler on your hip. He wants to see you pregnant again, see another little Bucky running around. He loves cradling and soothing his babies, one more can’t hurt? Then your daughter was born. And then maybe another?

C - Cuddles. Daddy Bucky gives the best cuddles. He comes home, scoops his son ins his arms and snuggles him close to his chest. He kisses his head, making his way over to the crib where his baby girl is still sleeping. He carefully carries her in the other arm, smiling at the way she curls herself into him, seeking her daddy’s warmth. He listens to his son babble around his day while his daughter coos, chewing on his dog tags.

D - Disaster warning. It’s chaos when you leave him alone with the babies for too long, especially if the uncles are also involved. 10 ft high pillow forts. Ceiling high bubble baths. Potion making with all your lotions and shampoos. So many giggles, squeals and laughter. You only need to worry when it suddenly goes silent. Silence indicates something foolish is afoot.

E - Excited. No one was more excited than Bucky when he found out he was going to be a dad. He was cuddled up with your belly every night, kissing and rubbing it, talking to your baby until he fell asleep. He read up on everything he could, from how to take care of a new born to what not to say in the delivery room.

F - Fussy baby soother. No one has any idea what his secret is but he can soothe a fussy baby within seconds, cradling them in his strong warm arms, gently rocking them till they fall asleep. He now leaves back his sweaters hanging on his daughters crib and another for his son to snuggle with. He can’t help but laugh when you pout over how he didn’t leave you a sweater. To which he points out you already stole 90% of them. You were wearing his Henley.

G - Girl dad. He fucking loves it. He makes sure his babygirl gets to do everything she wants and he encourages her every step of the way. Matching princess Halloween costume? He’s getting an XXL sparkly blue dress to wear with her. Wants to learn to fight? He’s more than eager to get her a mini knife set. She want’s to fight like aunty Nat? He’s training with her in the big ring. A tiny cut on her knee? He’s kissing it all better. Bad dreams? He scares all the monsters away. He’s there to pick her up every step of the way.

H - Helpful. He hates that fucking word. Especially when others point out he’s so helpful with taking care of his kids. They’re his kids. He’s not just helping. He want’s to raise them alongside you and be there for everything, the good times and bad. He’s there to clean them and feed them, cuddle them and kiss them. He’s there for all their sporting events and school concerts. He’s there for everything with you, you and his babies are his family. It’s never just helping.

I - Insecure. He’s always worries his babies will stop loving him after they learn from about who he is. You reassure him all the time that it would never happen but he can’t help it. He loves them to death and sometimes it easts at him that they might be ashamed to have him as a father. Of course it never happens. They’re so proud of their daddy, he’s their hero and he’s also the coolest because he has a metal arm.

J - Jealous. Of that stupid body pillow you use when you’re pregnant. After your son was born, you put it away, deciding against throwing it because what if you needed it again...and you did. But Bucky wasn’t having any of it. If you needed a pillow to cuddle with, you could use him, the pillow was never to be seen again, even it’s remains are a mystery.

K - Kinky as hell. Ever since you had his babies, he can’t stop the way his brain goes right to your soft body, wanting to wreck and ruin it, making you cry on his cock over and over again. He discovers he loves your pretty boobs when your lactating. Something about seeing you feed your little ones makes him feral. It doesn’t take long for him to start sneaking in a few soft pecks. Harmless. Teasingly licking your nipples, playing it off like he didn’t cum in his pants moments ago just from thinking about you. Pretty soon, he’s across your lap, drinking from you while he plays with his cock in, making a mess all over himself and he’s never been more satisfied.

L - Lunch box expert. Also diaper bag expert. This is random but he’s the best at packing them. Probably from years of military experiences and his assassin training but he can fit all the snacks, main courses, juice boxes and treats in just a few seconds, zipping it up perfectly without anything bursting at the seams. He’s proud of his talent too and he’s smug about it the entire time while you narrow your eyes at him. You tried. You’re figuring it out. He’s happy to show off again.

M - MILF; you made him a daddy. It makes his heart so full. It has also made him insatiable over you. You are so sexy to him, the mother of his kids, your beautiful soul gave him his babies. Your perfect body carried his little ones. You’re so gorgeous to him and the fact that you had his babies has him unable to control himself around you.

N - Naughty. Begging to put another baby in you. His breeding kink it out, full force, he doesn’t even try to hide it. Whenever you’re near him, he manages to drag you away, whispering the dirtiest things in your ear about how full is cock is, how much cum he has to give you. He doesn’t want to waste it, it wants to stuff you with it, put another baby in you. He always finds subtle ways to grind on you or rub his boner on you letting you know exactly how bad he needs it. If he can’t get it, he has his hands around his cock instead, dreaming about your cunt leaking with his seed, stuffing it back in with his fingers. During the few times you caught him playing with himself, he made you lick him clean, spanking you for making him waste his load. Of course he pumps you full mere minutes later.

O - Overly protective. Which is to be expected. He finally has the family he’s always dreamed of and while it makes him incredibly happy, he can’t help but worry almost constantly. He’s always worried someone might hurt you or his babies because of who he is. Then there’s also the silly little things he’s protective over. Babyproofed everything. Even the baby items that came babyproofed. And when that wasn’t good enough, he had Tony and Bruce look it over, making sure it was ultra safe. Turned out to be a good call; Steve Jr. has his daddy’s super strength early on and escapes his crib the second you turn away. He’s living up to his God father’s name with his recklessness.

P - Personal pillow. He’s everyone’s pillow. Your babies love you but cuddles with daddy are what put them to sleep immediately. You can’t even be jealous about it because you feel the same way. His chest is the most comforting place to sleep on. Warm. His steady heart beat puts you right to sleep. His babies coo and nuzzle into his arms, grasping his dog tags while they close their eyes and snuggle. Best. Sleep. Ever.

Q - Quest to be the best daddy and husband ever. He doesn’t care about anything else. His main focus is keeping you and little Steve and Becca happy. He doesn’t forget about having date nights with you; if anything he’s even more romantic now that ever before. He neve forgets to bring you flowers just cause, and massaging you just to see you relax. He makes sure he’s there for everything; teaching the babies how to walk, spoiling them, making sure the whole world knows his world revolves around the three of you.

R - Running. He’s always running. Especially after baby Steve. He doesn’t get how something so tiny can have so much energy. Granted, he’s enhanced but still. How did this kid take after his uncles ridiculous behavior too. Bucky isn’t exhausted from a lack of sleep. He’s exhausted from catching his son tossing knives. Attempting to jump of just about any high surface. Being unable to find him during hide and seek. Thankfully your daughter takes after you and doesn’t have a constant death wish.

S - Story telling expert. Obviously. He’s been telling his babies stories from before they were born, he spend every night of your pregnancy whispering against your skin. Nothing ever changes. Doesn’t matter how old they are, they always go to daddy for stories.

T - Time outs. For a sergeant, he isn’t great at giving time outs. He does but his heart breaks a little when his son and daughter give him puppy eyes. He then snorts because he knows they got it from him. It’s the same look he gives you when he knows he messed up. In all fairness, its a very convincing pout but he’s getting used to bypassing it by not making direct eye contact.

U - Uncle Bucky. Bucky snorts when he sees Stevie Jr come down his his captain America Halloween costume, a tiny shield in hand while he pulls along his sister, who has on a pair of wings and goggles just like her Uncle Sam. Bucky shakes his head until Steve tells Bucky to look at who his little punk dressed up as; little James coming running to join his friends, wearing a tiny black leather jacket, dark grey and gold left arm and black combat boots. “I look like uncle Bucky” He jumps up and down, grinning when Bucky scoops up his God son in his arms, ruffling his hair.

V - Voice of an angel. Which you didn’t know about until you heard his soft voice coming from the nursey after he came back from a mission. He always showers, kisses you gently without waking you before making his way over to see his little ones. He rocks them in his arms, singing softly to them to keep them asleep. Sometimes they’re lullabies. Sometimes songs from the 40s. He blushed furiously the first time you walked in on him. He’s so shy, his voice becomes a whisper for a while. But when you ask him to sing to you too, how can he say no to his babydoll. He loves holding you to his chest, rubbing your back and singing softly to you too, easing you right into dreamland.

W - Writes and documents everything. He never wants to forget. He knows what that’s like and he doesn’t ever want to lose the memories he has with his family. He starts a new diary full of happy memories, birth dates, first steps, first tooth, first words. He writes down whatever he can remember with all the little details. It brings him so much comfort when he’s away on missions. It reminds him that he has something worth fighting for and that love is waiting for him at home.

X - X ray; Steve’s first broken bone from something ridiculous. It’s not a big deal, a fractured arm but for once Bucky finally understands how stressed you feel when he gets injured, coming home battered and bleeding claiming he was hardly scratched. He can’t help but nearly cry when his son requests the cast to be dark grey, adding his own little gold accents with a marker, running around proudly saying he looks just like dad. Bucky nearly has a stroke when Becca almost yeets herself off the couch so she can have a cool cast that looks like daddy’s arm too.

Y - Your safe space. You both wanted a family but of course you’re learning together. You have doubts. So does he. He’s always there to reassure you, you’re the best mama to your babies. You’ve always been his safe space and he’s happy he can give you the same. He makes sure his kids know they can always come to him. and they do. First win, first crush, first relationship, first break up, first heart break. All of it. He’s there.

Z - Zippy; the name of your new pet hamster both kids insisted you get. Bucky is best friends with him now, mostly because he takes care of him the most. You’ve definitely caught Bucky just hanging out with the hamster on more than one occasion. The kids are a little jealous but theres no doubt Bucky and the hamster share the deepest connection. There’s no other reason you should walk in on Bucky reading a book while Zippy sits on your side table with a pile of sunflower seeds to keep him happy.

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