#mob!Bucky Barnes x reader imagines

[sinner-as-saint]

run for your life

Mob!Bucky x Reader 

Summary: He was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with. 

Themes: slight stalker!bucky, possessive!bucky, mild degrading kink, smut, FLUFF, opposite aesthetics, mild daddy kink (nicknames only), cosy little town vibes 

a/n: some fluffy mob!bucky to end the year <3 Thank you so much for always supporting my silly little fics. Merry Christmas my darlings, and happy New Year!! See you soon ;)

He didn't know where exactly he would end up locating you, but finding you in a cosy, small, coastal town in the south of France was not on his list. 

You being the owner of a gourmet bakery was not on his list either. Bucky was confused, surprised, but mostly confused. How did this happen? At first, when Sam came to deliver him the news of your location that morning, Bucky didn’t believe him. Had Sam not been Bucky’s oldest, most loyal friend Bucky would’ve never believed him at all. 

“I’m gonna need you to stop being a dumbass and go find this girl!” Sam, ever the voice of reason yelled at Bucky who had been drowning in his sorrows. “It’s been months, and I can’t keep covering for your ass. I have my own shit to do, my own men to command.” He used that cool, authoritative voice of his. “Pull yourself together, Buck. Go find her.” 

Sam was right. Of course he was. He always was. And it had really been months since that damned night… 

— 

Bucky couldn’t wait to get out of his plane the moment it landed. It was late at night, but the perfect time to go to the club. He had missed it. Well, not the whole club really. Bucky had missed you. 

He had a… special connection with you. His girl. His only girl. His favourite girl. 

This time, he thought, he would do whatever he can to solidify whatever was happening between the two of you. Maybe he’d even get you to go on a real date with him. Maybe that would lead to something more. He was smiling to himself just thinking about it. 

He often thought back to the night you met. He was at the club after a long day of being the dark ruler he was. All he wanted was a drink and a pretty woman on his lap. That’s when he found you. 

Right as he walked in, you caught his eye. Walking around serving drinks, wearing a little see-through red dress that brought every man you walked past to his knees. 

Once he got to his booth, Bucky called you over. You walked towards him sheepishly. 

“I’ve never seen you around here before, beautiful.” He said, patting his thigh. He noticed the way you hesitated. Must be new, he thought. 

You carefully perched on his lap, holding your empty metal tray to your chest. Bucky smirked as he looked at it, like you were putting a makeshift barrier between the two of you. When you remained quiet and squirmy, Bucky spoke up again. 

“Come on, babygirl. Talk to me, it’s okay.” He whispered at his nuzzled your neck. “I don’t bite. Unless you ask nicely, then I might.” 

His warm breath against your skin tickled. You chuckled as you pulled away to look at him. “Um, I’m just a waitress. I’m not supposed to…” You trailed off. Both of you were aware of the no-contact ‘rule’. But there was a natural, unexplainable spark there that neither of you could ignore. 

“Hmm,” His chest rumbled. “How about we go somewhere private?” He whispered into your ear and noticed the way you shivered. 

You hung your head, clutching your metal tray. “Waitresses aren’t supposed to go into the VIP rooms, sir.” You said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear you above the sensual music. 

Bucky smirked. Then leaned in and whispered, “I suppose I can bend the rules a little given I co-own the club.” 

You froze and went to stand up immediately, already apologising but he wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you on his lap. 

“It’s okay, babygirl. You’re not in trouble, I promise.” 

The two of you ended up in one of the VIP rooms. Nothing happened, you just kissed and talked and kissed some more. Bucky promised to come back. And he did. For months. Again and again and each time he did, you were drawn to him like he was gravity from the very moment he walked into the room. 

And that night he landed after being away for weeks, he expected you to run right into his arms the moment he’d enter the club like you always did. He even got you a nice little gift to make up for the time that he’d been away. It was a rare, red diamond choker. He could already imagine how it would look around your neck. Like a brand. His. 

But then he got to the club. And he noticed everyone was avoiding his eyes almost anxiously. And his girl was nowhere to be seen. He searched for you in the main area for a while, then even searched the VIP rooms, vowing to commit horrible crimes if he ever found you in there with another man. 

But no. 

He called Sam, who co-owned the club, and Sam had no idea who he was talking about. Bucky asked the staff members, and one bartender finally told him that you’d resigned a few weeks ago. And no one knew where you went. He asked for your full name, but no one knew that either. 

Not even Sam. “I didn’t even know we had a new waitress, Buck. I have more important shit to worry about.” He’d said, adding to the burning sensation in Bucky’s chest. 

“She left me.” 

Sam had no idea what his best friend was babbling about. And during the many months that followed, Bucky was a mess. A mess like Sam had never seen before. Frantically scanning country after country, searching for a girl with no name. He was in love, and he wasn’t giving up. He would find his girl come what may. 

—

But now Bucky knew where you were. 

And he was more confused than ever. He had even more questions. 

Bucky spent a whole week in that little town. Watching you, learning your routine, observing and questioning. He disguised himself as a local and always kept his distance even though his hands itched to touch you. 

At first he was bothered by how you were fine with living the same day everyday. Your routine seemed boring at first, but the more he watched, the more he realised it was sort of therapeutic. The normality of it all. 

He rented an apartment on the other side of the street from your bakery, and he spent hours watching you. 

You lived right above the bakery. A quaint apartment, with flower pots all around the french windows. Sometimes when you forgot to turn the lights off at night, Bucky spent the whole night spying on you, counting your breaths as you slept on your couch in front of the TV. 

You’d wake up at the crack of dawn, then you’d feed your dogs. He noticed you had two. Lazy, both of them. Then you’d get downstairs and within half an hour, the cool air that entered his apartment carried the smell of the sea and baked goods. 

All he wanted was to cross the cobblestone street and drag you to his bed, demand answers while fucking some sense into you. But the more he watched you, the more his anger diminished. Temporarily. 

The genuine smile on your face as you served your loyal customers all day, especially the ones who always came early in the morning on their way to work. The occasional sound of your voice or your laughter that slipped past whenever someone didn’t close the door right. The sound of children squealing and laughing whenever you gave away leftover baked goods or donuts in the evenings. How you knew almost everyone by name. How sometimes you invited neighbours over for wine nights. How you went on little walks in late, cool evenings, forcing your lazy pets to walk but then ending up having to carry them on the way back. They were spoiled, he realised. He hated to admit that he was jealous of the damned dogs who got so much of your attention while he starved for it. 

He wasn’t angry by the end of that first week of spying, he was just hurting. How dare you live a whole new life without him? How dare you laugh and seem like you don’t miss him? He’d just spent months looking for you and here you were, just going about your day like you didn’t care? Like none of those nights you’d spent together mattered? 

Meanwhile he was shaking just reminiscing the way your touch felt across his skin. He remembered the first time the two of you crossed that line in one of the VIP rooms…

You were wearing that red dress again. Fucking tease, he hissed each time you moved or squirmed on his lap. 

“Baby, please,” He groaned. “Just… let me touch you. Daddy will make you feel good, so good babygirl, I promise.” He pleaded, hands caressing your soft, warm thighs. 

You shook your head, popping another one of those chocolates he brought you into your mouth and sucking your fingers after. Torturing him. 

“We can’t,” You insisted, with nothing but mischief in your eyes as you looked at him. “You made these rules yourself, remember?” You chuckled when he groaned again when you straddled him properly. 

“I don’t give a shit about rules.” He hissed, nuzzling your neck. Slowly, he kissed up and down your neck. “I just wanna taste you. That’s it. Just a taste.” 

That’s how he found himself on his knees, face in between your thighs. His skilled tongue making you whine and whimper as you tugged on his hair. Bucky hummed in appreciation the more he tasted you. 

“Come on daddy’s face, baby…” 

That’s it. 

Bucky decided he would go see you the next morning. He would drag you back home if he had to, but he wouldn’t spend another day without you. Who did you think you were? No one just tosses him aside like this. He’d remind you who he was and then you’d both go home right away. 

—

Bucky woke up to a thunderstorm. Weather around here was unpredictable. He got out of bed and immediately looked outside to find your bakery empty. No customers in sight because of the heavy rain, lightning and thunder. The golden light was on though. 

He decided it was time to go have a talk with you. He promised not to lose his temper. He would go in there calmly, talk it out with you. Ask you what the fuck you are doing here, and then he’d take you home. 

But that ended up not happening. 

Bucky crossed the slippery cobblestone street, walked into your comforting, sweet smelling bakery and froze. He froze right there at the entrance. 

As did you. Standing there behind the wooden counter, oven mittens in your hand and apron in another, you stared at Bucky with nothing but pure shock and surprise on your face. A thousand thoughts, mainly questions, crossed your mind. 

What is he doing here? How did he find you? Why is he dressed casually like a local, wearing soft colours instead of his usual suits? How long has he been here? What is he doing here? 

You let out a little gasp. “Bucky?” 

Wrong move, apparently. Because his demeanour changed in a nanosecond. His calm and collected-ness was forgotten instantly. Jaws clenched, with a murderous look in his eyes, he walked closer, more like charged at you, and around the counter before you could even get a word out. 

He had you pinned to the nearest wall before you could process it all. Knocking down a framed picture in the process. Towering above you, he looked like he was beyond pissed. 

“Bucky, I—,” 

“Shut up.” He hissed, voice cold with bitterness and anger. He watched how you shivered when he pinned your wrists to the wall on either side of your head. “Shut the fuck up.” 

He leaned closer, chest pressing against yours leaving no space in between. He closed his eyes and sighed for a moment, trying his hardest to see reason but he was angry. So angry he couldn’t think. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He spoke with such a low voice that you trembled against him, causing him to tighten his grip around your wrists, surely bruising them. You didn’t care. 

You winced, “I can explain.” Fuck, you’d missed him too. It had been months since you last saw him. He was just as handsome as you remembered. His hair was a little longer now, his beard a little thicker. But he made your heart race just the same. “Please Bucky,” You whispered, “let me explain everything to you.” 

“No.” He growled before pressing his mouth to yours, angrily. Like he wanted his kiss to hurt. And it did. 

His rough facial hair scratched your skin, his teeth nibbled on and bit your lips. His hands damn near crushed your wrists in his strong grip. And he didn’t give you even the briefest second to breathe. He kissed you just like how he imagined he would do once he found you. Ravenously. Pouring everything he felt into it. Desperation, anger, hurt, obsession. He couldn’t get enough. 

“Bucky…” You gasped against his lips when he finally pulled away. Breathing fast, you tried to get a look at him but he just seemed even more angry. 

“Turn around,” He mumbled, forcing you to turn around anyway. Fuck, the sight of you in that long, flowy, sundress was doing things to him. He was never this bothered when you used to parade around in your little see-through dresses, but somehow the sight of you in this pink, floral dress was making him act like a caveman. 

His movements were rash and angry. He almost tore your dress off of you while he shoved his rough hand in between your legs and touched you where you desperately wanted him to. You whined and trembled against the cool wall when he slid a finger in, fucking you with it while he hissed into your ear. 

“I should punish you for what you did to me,” His deep voice made his chest rumble against your back. “I should tie you up and fuck you however I want.” 

Your dress was partially off, bunched and only hanging on around your waist. Being so dishevelled made this even dirtier. You were moaning by now, hoping the heavy rain would blur your actions from anyone who walked by the shop. Or god forbid, walk in. 

“How dare you think you can just leave me?” He demanded, sliding another finger inside you and making your body come alive. 

You were embarrassingly wet at this point, and the sounds your body made as he finger-fucked you were lewd. But you couldn’t get enough. 

More, more, more. You mentally chanted. 

Bucky wasn’t having the silent treatment, so he smacked your thigh to get your attention. You yelped. Your skin stung as he smacked it again, on the same spot. Harder this time. You cried out even louder as he kept taunting you. “Answer me, you fucking brat!” His lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke. “Why did you leave me?” 

You cried as he kept fucking you with his fingers you even as you came. His fingers sliding in and out with ease now. The sounds you made were wanton. “You… you left first.” You tried to argue. But failed miserably. 

He chuckled in that dark and dangerous way of his. “I left for work.” He said, “And I promised you I’d be back.” He reached deeper inside you, curling his fingers just enough to make you mutter incoherent things. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” 

“Please, please, please…” You begged. “Please I need to come, Bucky please.” 

“Oh?” He chuckled again, slowing down his movements purposely. “No one touched you, huh?” He playfully bit on your exposed shoulder. “You’re so fucking wet it’s dripping down my hand, babygirl.” He boasted. “Is it because no one has touched you these past few months? Hmm?” 

“Yes…” You had tears streaming down your face, and you nodded breathlessly. “Please…” 

But instead of making you come all over his fingers, Bucky pulled away for a brief moment. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him undoing his trousers. And moments later, he was rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds. You shivered in pleasure.

“I’m gonna teach you what happens to people who think they can run from me, babygirl.” He growled as he pushed his cock into you, making you cry out loud as he stretched you out. 

After months of not having him, right now he felt huge inside you. Just like that, memories of nights spent with him came flooding back in. You moaned as his fingers found your clit again, rubbing it in sync with his thrusts. 

His hand gripped you by the hips, holding you against him as he sped up into you, fucking you like he hated you. Like it was punishment. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck and licked, and bit on your skin as he fucked into you relentlessly, earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls.

“Did you think I’d never find you?” He asked, fucking into you. “I bet you thought you’d gotten rid of me, hmm?” 

You’d missed him too. He could tell by the way you were starting to clench around him already. Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how good he felt inside you. 

“See, it didn’t have to be like this, baby…” he mumbled angrily against your skin while he fucked you like an animal, “I could be nice and gentle with your body, but you just had to be a fucking brat and leave me with no warning.” He spat, growling in your ear as he pounded into you, your chest slamming into the wall with each thrust. It hurt in the best way. 

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” He moaned against your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake as he quickened his pace, pounding into you mercilessly.

The pleasure, the pain, the heat of him… was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“Bucky–,” You choked on your words as you came undone, walls clenching around him, and a loud moan erupting from your mouth as he made you come hard. It was almost blinding. 

His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls, moaning out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He came while biting down hard on your shoulder. So hard that even you cried out, still coming down from your high as you felt him spill deep inside you. 

That bite on your shoulder hurt. And like a chain reaction, everything began to hurt. Having him here hurt. Memories of being with him in the city, in the dark rooms of that club hurt. Realising how fast your life changed hurt. 

You didn’t realise you were sobbing quietly until you heard Bucky apologising profusely. Suddenly no longer angry. No longer feeling betrayed. 

“Fuck, baby. I’m so sorry.” He kissed that sore spot softly, his bite mark on your shoulder repeatedly as he wrapped his arms around you, securing you in the comfort of his embrace. “I don’t know what came over me, babygirl. I’m so sorry, please look at me. Hey, hey,” He pulled away and turned you so you faced him, still with tears in your eyes. “Babygirl, I’m so sorry.” He whispered, wiping your tears away, then kissing your face repeatedly. 

You remained like that for a few minutes. Arms wrapped around one another, standing there against that wall while it rained like hell outside. Bucky didn’t stop apologising. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been an animal like this with you, I—,” 

You cut him off finally, “Shh, it’s okay.” You pulled away from his warm chest to look up at him. “I needed this.” You said, sniffling as you gently cupped his rough cheek, caressing his face with your thumb. “I needed you like this.” 

He just hugged you close again, kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry.” He apologised one final time. “I’ll listen, I promise. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.” 

You smiled faintly at him. “Then I should lock up down here and we can go upstairs. I don’t want to scare my neighbours by risking them finding us like this.” You looked down at your partially torn dress and Bucky’s unbuttoned trousers. 

Much to your surprise, Bucky said, “You go ahead, I’ll close and lock up.” 

You frowned at him even as you desperately tried to get the top of your sundress to cover your chest. “You wouldn’t know how to…” You trailed off as realisation set in. He was a calculated, smart man. He didn’t just apparate on your doorstep with no planning. “You’ve been watching me.” You stated, raising an eyebrow at him. 

Bucky gave you a rare, guilty look. 

You sighed and shook your head. “I guess I chose this life by getting involved with you.” You gave him a faint smile. “Alright then, lock it. Leave the key in the little basket by the door.” You started walking towards the stairs, then turned around again and said, “Make sure the windows are properly locked too, because of the rain and stuff.” 

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky nodded.

You smirked at him. 

With that you took the stairs and Bucky watched you go with a fond smile on his face. No one ever ordered him around. He hated it. But coming from you, he quite liked it. 

Bucky chuckled at himself because never in his life had he ever imagined he would one day be closing up a bakery in a small town, all for the woman he’s obsessively in love with. But he didn’t mind it one bit. 

After following your instructions and double checking the windows, he made his way upstairs as well. Again, he didn’t know what he expected your place to look like – and all that spying only allowed him glimpses of your apartment – but he never expected your space to look so… 

Pink. With occasional gold accents. Pale pink couch, the one you often fell asleep on while watching TV, and fluffy white pillows and rugs to go with. Paintings hanging on even paler pink walls. The kitchen he couldn’t quite see but he assumed it’d have to be all white. Pink dog beds, with fluffy balls of brown fur sleeping on them – wearing pink collars no less. 

He couldn’t see your bedroom from the living room given the door was closed but given the pink, fluffy robe and socks you wore he could imagine just how pink it must be. 

“It’s so girly.” He commented, as if surprised. Maybe he was a little. After all, he knew you as the seductive goddess he met almost every night at the club. He never realised that it was all just a show, that it was all just a persona at work. In a way, stepping into your space felt so intimate. He liked it. 

You chuckled. “Coquette, please.” You corrected as you handed him a glass of red wine while he took a seat beside you. He did look a little out of place in your apartment, a dark and broody man like him. But then again, he was here and that’s all that mattered. 

He turned to look at you and couldn’t resist holding your hand and pulling you onto his lap again. “Come here,” He said, “I’ve missed you.” 

As you straddled his lap, your robe exposed some of your shoulder and Bucky saw the very noticeable bite mark he left on you. He grimaced when he saw it. He placed his wine glass to the side and traced the bite mark with his thumb carefully. 

“I’m sorry, babygirl.” He whispered, leaning in to nuzzle your neck and kiss the bite mark. And breathe in your scent. Fuck, he’d missed it so much. “You smell a little different. Fruitier.” 

You giggled when his hair tickled your skin. “I made blueberry compote earlier this morning. Perhaps that’s why.” 

You could feel him smiling against your skin. Then he pulled away to look at you. His hands shamelessly slid under your robe, eager to touch your skin. Relishing it this time, not in a feral hurry like he was earlier. He seemed visibly calmer too. 

“We used to spend hours like this at the club, remember?” He spoke, and immediately you were overwhelmed with nostalgia. 

Hours, days, weeks, months. Some days back then you would wake up in the morning already excited to see Bucky in the evening. And it wasn’t because it was all sexual. So many nights all you two did was drink, laugh and talk about everything. He once told you that apart from Sam, you were his only real friend. 

Bucky kissed you, breaking you out of your reverie surely thinking of the past as well. It was a slow, gentle kiss. It was consuming you. His hands caressed your thighs which were still a little sore from earlier. You winced in pain when he massaged the spot where he spanked you. 

Bucky pulled away from the kiss, apologising again as he kissed down your chin. “I’m sorry, babygirl.” 

You smiled at him after taking a sip of your wine. “Stop pretending as if we were always vanilla or that this is scandalous in any way shape or form.” You chuckled as you leaned in to whisper in his ear, “We both know this was nothing compared to how we used to be.” 

Bucky smiled, a little sadly. “I missed you.” He repeated. “Tell me,” He said, “Tell me everything.” 

You finished your wine. “What do you want to know?” 

“Why did you start working at the club?” He caught the look of sadness that suddenly appeared on your face upon hearing the question.

“I… I had to drop out of uni because my grandparents fell sick.” You explained. “Mom and dad were travelling for work at the time, and I was the only one who could take care of grandma and grandpa. The treatments and all ended up costing a little more than what we had so I needed a job that paid well, I also needed one that would allow me to be flexible with my time so I could take care of my grandparents.” 

Bucky nodded, “Hence the club.” 

You nodded in confirmation. 

“Your parents never intervened? So you could finish your education?” He questioned. 

“No.” You said, almost emotionless. “When they found out what I was doing, where I was working to earn the extra money we needed… they kind of disowned me. And vowed to never talk to me again.” You chuckled, humourlessly. 

“They don’t deserve you.” Bucky said quickly, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close. “You were so brave baby, I wish you would’ve told me all of this.” 

You slid your fingers into his hair and massaged his scalp gently. “You were already taking care of me.” You said, “You mended my heart a little each night when I saw you.” 

“I wish I could’ve done more.” He kissed along your collarbones, then froze again as if he remembered something. “I almost forgot,” He said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a sleek black box. “I got you something.” Then clarified, “Well, I got you this months ago. I would’ve given it to you had you not run away from me.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, “I didn’t run from you, I–,” 

He cut you off with a finger on your lips. “Tell me about that part in a minute,” He opened the slender black box to reveal the red diamond choker inside. “I had this made for you.” He watched your face intently. 

“Bucky…” You hesitantly reached for it, running your fingers over the beauty of it. It was a simple design. Elegant, timeless. Way too expensive. “I can’t take this,” You began protesting, “It’s too much.” 

Bucky made a face and said, “Oh shut up.” He was already clasping it around your neck before you could protest any further. “It’s a gift from daddy,” He whispered against the corner of your lips. “You deserve it, babygirl.” 

When he pulled away to look at you, his heart almost broke again at the sight of the tears in your eyes. 

“What is it?” He asked, wiping your tears away for the second time today. “Is it that ugly?” 

You laughed through the tears. “No, it’s the prettiest thing I own.” You sniffled. “The only piece of real jewellery in fact.” You leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” 

“Remind me to get you a whole collection.” Bucky pulled you closer and kissed you deeply. 

Then it turned into something more and by the time the afternoon rolled around, the two of you had lost count how many times you’d made love on your pink couch. Slow touches and cuddles, and soft kisses always resulted in the two of you fucking again. 

—

In the late afternoon, while snacking on random things Bucky realised you still hadn’t explained how you ended up here. 

“Grandma and grandpa’s bakery.” You explained, watching the rain pour outside. “They left it to me. They died within weeks of each other,” You said with a melancholic smile on your face, “I always knew that would happen. They loved each other too much to live without one another for too long.” 

You turned to look at Bucky who pulled you onto his lap again and held you as tightly as possible. You weren’t crying this time, but being held felt nice. 

You continued, “I had funerals to plan, I had to pack up my life and move all the way here, I had to take on the responsibility of the bakery and renovate this apartment. And you were already gone at the time so…” You sighed. “I didn’t know if I should leave a note or not. I didn’t know if you were actually coming back or–,” 

“I would never abandon you. I thought you knew that.” Bucky said, a little annoyed at that. “I made you a promise, did you not–,” 

You couldn’t help but argue, “Yeah well, I didn’t know if what we had was real enough for you to come back to.” 

Bucky frowned. “Baby…” 

You gave him a small smile, and pressed your forehead against his, rubbing your noses together. “I know now. It is.” 

When you finally pulled away from his addicting embrace you said, “I’m gonna get started on dinner. You can shower in there,” You pointed at your bedroom door as you got up from the couch. Bucky tried to grab you again but you pulled away laughing. “The weather is clearing up, we can have dinner outside on the patio.” 

You threw him a wink and made your way into the kitchen. 

Bucky finally got up and walked into your bedroom. Just as he imagined, the place was all white, gold, and pink. He actually laughed when he walked into the bathroom and found it pale pink as well. He’d grown to love it too by now. 

–

You were busy at the stove, making your best seafood pasta, when you felt strong arms wrapping around you from behind. 

“How’d you like my bedroom?” You asked, smirking already as you pictured him in your very girly space. 

“It’s very pink. The bed looks comfy,” He whispered into your ear, “I’m gonna fuck you in it later.” 

You chuckled and passed him another glass of wine. As you turned to face him again, you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. There he was, one of the scariest men you knew, standing in your grandma-core kitchen, wearing a fluffy white robe with pink clouds on it. 

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t comment on it. I can already hear Sam laughing his ass off and he’s not even here.” 

You laughed even harder before you kissed his cheek. “It suits you.” You said. Then you handed him a couple of plates and pointed at the patio which could be seen from the kitchen window, “Can you set the table?” 

He finished his wine and then mumbled on his way out like a grumpy old man, “First close the bakery, now set the table,” He shouted from outside, “You know, if this whole thing was your elaborate plan to hire me as your domestic helper, you could’ve just asked, babygirl.” 

You laughed at him from inside the kitchen. You shook your head as you watched him. Wearing your fluffy robe, setting the small table on your patio. The view of the ocean from that patio was to die for, and the setting sun was just sublime. The golden lights you’d hung above the cute little dining area added to the cosy atmosphere. Now with the weather a lot nicer than it was hours ago, you could hear the small town coming alive again. Voice and laughter, children cycling down the cobblestone. 

And Bucky. Bucky was here too. Winking at you from the patio. And you thought your life had ended when your parents disowned you. You scoffed at the thought. Then you thanked whatever god was listening for bringing Bucky back to you. 

— 

During dinner, Bucky filled you in on what he was up to while you were gone. And you did the same. One bottle of wine turned into two, then you and Bucky laughed at random things while you did the dishes. 

Then you found yourselves in your bed. And like he promised, Bucky made love to you there as well. 

His muscular body hovered above yours. He looked down at you with nothing but love and desire in his eyes as you undid the ridiculous robe to let his cock out. He was hard already. 

“Think I like you a lot in this robe.” You teased. 

Bucky laughed before leaning in for a kiss again. He nibbled along your skin, from your mouth to your neck as he parted your legs and slid into you.  

You gasped as your walls welcomed him perfectly. He was nice and snug inside you, stretching you out in a way that had you whining and whimpering under him in no time. 

Bucky laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head on your pink covers as he sped up into you. Your eyes rolled back once he started moving in and out of you. Taking his sweet time, loving the way his warm skin rubbed against yours. 

He leaned in and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you slowly. “I love you.” He breathed against your mouth. “So fucking much.” He kissed along your skin and moaned into your ear as he sped up. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.” 

“Oh Buck,” You smiled up at him, “I love you.” 

“You’re mine.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you as he made you come again. 

“And you’re mine.” 

— 

You woke up some time in the middle of the night, thirsty after all that wine from earlier. But the moment you sat up to get out of bed, Bucky woke up too. Asking in his groggy voice, which you had never heard before but concluded that it was kind of hot, “Where are you going? What is it?” 

You smiled and kissed his forehead while getting out of bed, “Just thirsty. I’ll be right back.” 

Bucky got up after you, getting out of bed as well. “I’m coming too.” He said, “I worry this girly room might engulf me if you leave me here alone.” He joked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he followed you out and into the kitchen. 

Truth is, he didn’t want to be apart from you for even a second. 

You handed him a glass of cold water while you put some water to boil to make tea. Some green tea should put the two of you right back to sleep, you thought. 

So there you were in your cosy kitchen, wrapped in a soft blanket. Bucky leaned against the counter watching you. He was shirtless, just in some white, cotton pyjama pants that you lent him. They didn’t fit him at all but something about him in your clothes made him seem adorable. 

You were both quiet. But you could feel Bucky thinking. He looked like he was trying to find the right way to ask you something. You didn’t know what. But he had that little frown on his forehead. You wanted to kiss it away. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

Bucky avoided your eyes, choosing to stare at the floor instead as he asked, “Do you think… I mean, would you ever come back home?” 

Ah. The few moments of silence which followed were heavy. You didn’t like how that question put some kind of metaphorical distance between the two of you. 

So you took a few steps and leaned into him. You placed your hands on his muscular, toned chest and said, “This is home, for me.” You gave him the truth. “That city was never home now that I think about it.” You smiled faintly, “The only good part was you.” 

Bucky nodded. “So,” He began, then stopped to clear his throat and spoke again, “You won’t ever leave this place?” 

You slid your hands up across his skin, feeling the warm, strong muscles underneath your palm. You traced his collar bones, then his neck and finally cupped his face in your hands. He wrapped his arms loosely around your middle. 

“I love it here, Bucky.” You stated. “It’s quiet, and peaceful. It looks boring at first but it’s what I’ve always wanted.” You said. “Plus my grandparents left me this, it’s all I have of them.” You paused for a while, hating that look of hurt in his ocean blue eyes. “I won’t leave. This is my home now.” 

Bucky was quiet. Even his breathing was slow. 

You let go of him, took a step back and said, “Maybe you should head back.” It felt like the words sliced you from the inside. It hurt to even utter them. “You have a life there.” You gave him a sad smile. Followed by a faint chuckle. “Unless you want to take up fishing then I’m afraid there’s nothing for you here.” 

He scoffed. “There’s you.” He said as if that was more than enough. 

“Bucky.” You warned. 

He shook his head, then reached for his phone which he’d forgotten in the kitchen earlier tonight. “Sam will probably fly out here to beat me up when I tell him.” He spoke, none of what he said made sense to you though.

“What are you–,”

“And he’ll have to work twice as much. But he’ll do great, I know. He’s Sam after all, strongest man I know.” Bucky carried on, ignoring your questions as he typed away on his phone. “I’ll do as much as I can from here, maybe fly back to the city once or twice a year to show my face.” 

“Bucky,” You warned again, “What are you talking—,” 

Bucky continued, cutting you off each time you tried to get a word in. “I’ll have to call my people, actually I have a lot of phone calls to make if–,” 

You cut him off this time, stepping closer to him again and grabbing him by his broad shoulders. “What are you talking about?” 

Bucky gave you a lovesick smile. “Well if you’re not going back to the city, neither am I.” He answered. You froze. He continued. “I’ll have to buy us a bigger home somewhere around here. We’ll keep the apartment and bakery of course, but maybe we could use some staff to help with maintenance and to keep the bakery running.” 

He made a mental, makeshift plan while you had silent tears streaming down your face. 

He continued, “We’ll get you back in uni, whichever one you want and whichever offers distance learning because there’s no way I’m letting you live on some campus away from me.” He paused, then said, “I’ll have to actually take up fishing. Maybe I’ll buy a few boats, you know I always wanted to be a yacht broker.” He sounded almost… hopeful. “Retirement sounds nice.” 

You sniffled. “Buck…” 

Bucky kept talking while he gently caressed your back. “I’ll have to learn French,” He groaned, “At this grown age.” He added. “I’ll have to know what's a chocolate croissant and what’s a pain au chocolat if I want to occasionally help out with the bakery. I can’t be uncultured while my wife is this connoisseur, you know? The locals will laugh at me.” 

“Wife?” You questioned through tears and a faint, barely there smile. 

He rolled his eyes. “Baby, I’m wearing your clothes, sleeping in your girly room, eating off of your floral plates.” He explained, “If you don’t marry me, I will lose my reputation.” He joked. 

You laughed, and sobbed as you threw your arms around him, hugging him as tightly as you could. 

“You don’t have to do this.” You spoke through tears. Your heart felt so full, you didn’t know how to handle a man like Bucky changing the course of his life for you. All for you. 

Bucky hugged you back, kissing the top of your head. “I want to.” He said, “I have to. Otherwise you’ll run away again.” He teased. 

You laughed quietly. “I won’t.” You said firmly. 

“Good,” He sighed, squeezing you tightly in his arms before letting go. “Now I have to tell Sam.” He looked genuinely worried. 

You giggled, then leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Tell him in the morning.” You whispered, your hands already trailing down to the waistband of the pyjama pants. 

Bucky chuckled before leaning in to kiss you, deeply. “Okay baby,” He whispered, forgetting everything else as he got lost in you all over again. 

He made love to you right there in the kitchen, sliding in between your legs as you sat on the edge of the counter. Slow and gentle. Kissing you softly, making a mess of you as he made you come over and over and over again. Whispering against your heated skin, your wet, open mouth, “You’re mine…” 

“All yours,” You answered, holding him tightly. Your nails scratching down his back, your skin burning in all the best ways as his beard scratched it each time he kissed you. 

This time, he made you a different promise. 

“If you chose to run again, you better run for your life and pray I never find you, babygirl…” He whispered into your ear as he slid inside you again. His cock made it hard for you to focus on anything else but you tried your hardest to hear him out. “Because I won’t be this kind if I ever have to hunt for you again.” 

You laughed, but ended up moaning as he bit down on your other shoulder this time. Marking you as his again.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader

[queers-gambit]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

browse the Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel au #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky x you #mafia au #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes hurt/comfort

[buckyalpine]

I'm supposed to be fixing and updating and writing but I got distracted with a thought. Mob Bucky and his honeybee. His soft, sweeter than sugar, soft like the clouds, too precious for this planet earth, honeybee.

His honeybee who others don't take seriously because she's too quiet to do anything.

His honeybee who other women couldn't care less about because there's no way she actually satisfies him.

His honeybee who sinks her teeth into his neck after she hears Sharon talk about the way she'd ride him if given the chance. He's been in gang wars that haven't left bruises this dark.

His honeybee who doesn't let him leave the room until she's milked him dry, keeping his cock and balls soft and empty, all of his cum stuffed right where in belongs, dripping between her legs.

His honeybee who is the most possessive, jealous, feral, needy little thing on the planet.

I'll elaborate on this at some point. The day Bucky learns his pretty baby is more possessive than he is. The day he learns what his honeybee's mouth can really do. The day he learns what mine means.

Just a Bucky and his honeybee.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #mob bucky au #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes x reader #mob bucky #mob bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky smut #bucky barnes imagine

[marvellous1917]

Icarus

(Part 1)

Pairing: mob!Bucky x tattoo artist!reader

Summary: you come home from work, only to find a mob boss in your house looking for your roommate.

Warnings: mentions of a gun, mentions of arms and drug trafficking, murder, kidnapping, torture, swearing, tattoos, gambling, think that’s it

A/n: I’m a simple girl. Mob!Bucky makes my brain go whurrrrrr. This is pure self service because I have this tattoo lol. Been along time guys what’s up?

————

“Late night?” The deep voice came from the dark.

“Holy-” fear spiked through your heart from the unfamiliar sound, your arms dropping the bags and your back crashing into the closed front door, “-who.. who are you?” You asked the unfamiliar voice. Turning slightly you see the long haired, leather covered man sat in the dining room. His left arm rested on the table, the prosthetic shining, the light from the street lamp outside shining through the window. His face was half shrouded in darkness, the other half showed his eyes, a little confused but also amused.

“You’re not Caleb.” He replied, sitting back in the chair, tilting his head to the side and moving something that looked suspiciously pistol shaped off of the table and into the inside pocket of his jacket, you reached up and flipped on the light.

“N-no no, I’m not. I’m his roommate.” You said, finally registering who you were talking to. The now fully visible metal arm was a pretty big giveaway, if nothing else. ‘There is a mob boss sat in my kitchen, what the fuck’.

“What do you want with Caleb? Does he owe you something?” The thought was out of your mouth before you could stop it. “Oh god no sorry forget I asked. Sorry... sir? I don’t-”

“I’m assuming from that reaction you know who I am,” He said, smirk on his face as he stood and moved closer, your back pressing flatter against the wall beside the door with every step he took.

“Of..of course I do, everyone in New York knows who you are..Sir” You replied.

“Hmm, I’m gonna take that as a compliment doll,”

“It is! Sorry! Congrats on all the… mafia shit.” Did I just say ‘mafia shit’ to a gangster.

The silence is awkward, his face blank and all you can think is ‘Oh my god I’m gonna die.’ His face twists into a …smile.. you think, y’know its hard to tell, fear has your vision all fuzzy.

He then starts to..laugh. He’s laughing? He’s actually laughing.

“Is this something you do before you kill people? You laugh, give them a false sense of security then shoot them?” You ramble quietly, confused at what’s happening.

He moved his left had to rest on his stomach, the metal catching the light, shining right in you eye and it fully registered that, holy shit, James fucking Barnes, The Winter goddamn Soldier is in my house. This man is literally wanted by every law enforcement agent in the country, he’s in control of one of the most ruthless organisations in the world, they traffic arms and drugs and gun down anyone that gets in the way. Apparently, at least that’s what the news said. The stories about him though, way more upsetting.

The rumor was that after he left the special forces, he was captured by an organisation that wanted him to work for them. When he tried to escape the first time, they took his arm, and he was stuck working for them for a decade. The story goes that after he finally escaped, he tracked down everyone that was a part of it and killed them all, by himself. Alone. Just him. On his own. Then he took over their supply and demand and built his empire from the ground up.

“Oh god.. ‘congrats on all the mafia shit’, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while…” he pushed out while chuckling. “I’m gonna get that shit tattooed, I swear,” he said.

“I could do that for you,” it was out of your mouth before you could stop it. ‘Oh my god, shut up Y/N’ you thought to yourself.

“What?” He asked, eyes flitting over to yours, his piercing stare causing all sorts of feeling to rise inside your chest; fear, confusion, attraction. Attraction? What? Damn him and his pretty face. He’s a killer Y/N, remember that?

“Nothing, sorry” you answered, looking down at your feet.

“No what did you say Y/n?” He asked again, his voice more stern than before. If you weren’t so scared, you would have questioned how he knew your name.

“I said that I could give you that tattoo, sorry, just slipped out” you replied, unsure what his response would be to your completely unnecessary comment.

“Stop apologising would’ya doll, there’s no need.” He said, sort of sweetly, a small comforting smile on his face, the pet name causing all sorts of lovely feelings inside.

“Sor.. yes Sir,” you corrected yourself.

“And stop calling me Sir darlin, only my employees call me that,” he said, “well my employees and some others..” he said with a dirty smirk, causing your eyebrows to raise sky high.

“Sorry Sir,” you said quickly, not even thinking. “…shit.”

“Seriously doll, you don’t need to be so scared of me,” he stated, his right hand reaching out and landing on your shoulder, your muscles tensing for a second then relaxing when you saw the look in his eye, he was telling the truth

“Ok.. then can I ask why you are here?” You ask, some fear creeping it’s way into your voice despite his reassurance. He kept his face carefully still and he looked you up and down, the feeling of being examined was strong, like he was trying to decide if you were worthy of knowing his business.

“You got it right earlier, your roommate owes me something, and I came to get it from him,” he removes his hand from your arm as he spoke after a tense silence. He was being purposely vague, trying to gage your reaction, to see if you were really clueless or you were playing with him.

“It’s money right, I mean it has to be, what else could he owe you. I told him to stop freaking borrowing money I swear I tried to stop him, but he never listened to me..l”

“You’re rambling darlin, you realise that?” He cuts you off with a smirk on his face.

“I’ve been told I do that when I’m nervous. I don’t know how much Caleb owes you and I don’t know what the situation is but.. if you.. I mean..”

“What doll? What are you trying to say. I won’t be mad, I swear,” Barnes responds, one side of his lips tugging upwards at your mumbling.

“Could you give him some more time?”

He was not expecting that. ‘Brave little thing’ he thought.

“I mean I don’t know how long he’s owed you for but he’s getting back on track I swear, he’s getting better, he is, in-fact he’s at a gamblers anonymous meeting right now, and he has a job interview tomorrow so he can pay rent and pay back people he owes money to.” You rush out, trying to help your friend, “Of course he never told me that he owes money to a mobster but that besides the point” you add quieter, more to yourself than anything but Barnes still heard it. He chuckled and ran his flesh hand through his hair, pushing back the long strands out of his face.

“He does owe money to a mobster, quite a lot in fact so I’m gonna have to say no to that request darlin, I’ve given him long enough.” He responds, his tone dripping with authority, the Brooklyn drawl on the pet name he threw out made your heart beat faster.

“Please. Please just think about it Sir.. uh Mr Barnes.. Sir. Caleb’s had a rough go of it lately, he lost his father not too long ago and he’s been a mess ever since, if you could just give..”

“I already said no once doll, I don’t like repeating myself.” His tone was final, and even though his words were not that intense, the threat in his voice hung in the air like poison gas before slamming into your chest, the fear that had previously been quelled came racing back, sitting on your shoulders like a lead coat.

The silence stayed for longer this time, you eyes firmly fixed to the floor to a sound even the possibility of upsetting the man that had broken into your home.

“So you’re a tattoo artist huh? He asked, his low voice calming you some. Huh he’s trying to make me less afraid of him, what kind of ruthless criminal is he?

“Yes..um I am,” you answer, incredibly aware of the position you were in, better to go along with whatever he did.

“You got a flash book?” He questioned, genuinely interested.

“Uh yeah I do.” You reply awkwardly, not sure where this new line of conversation was coming from.

“Can I see it?”

“…sure,” the word came out as a question.

He nodded at you, and you took it as a sign that you were good to move. Turning slowly and moving away from the wall to your bag on the floor, you reach down and grab your flash sketchbook and hand it to him.

“Are all of these available?” He asked, flipping through the pages, taking in each design.

Seeing him like this, calmly looking through the sketchbook makes it very easy to forget who he was, a ruthless calculating Mob Boss, wanted for almost every crime under the sun.

“The ones with the X’s over them have been done before but could be repeated if someone really wanted it,” you answered, slightly more confident in yourself as you were talking about something you loved.

“This is Latin, right, what does it mean?” He asked, moving to stand next to you pointing to a design in the book, an alien inside a bottle of wine.

“‘In Vino Veritas’, it means ‘In wine, there is truth’” you say, “ I though it was funny, y’know.. ‘the truth is out there’..aliens..” you trailed off, not sure how to explain that design

He let out an quiet amused sound, his shoulder brushing yours, sending a trail of chills down your spine.

“This one is beautiful,” he said, pointing to a different design on the next page.

“Thank you, it’s Icarus, I have it tattooed on me, it was hard as hell doing it on my own leg,” you say, proud of the design you created.

“Icarus, what’s his story? I can’t quite remember, ” he asks.

“It’s a Greek myth y’know, Icarus and his father were held captive by King Minos in a tower, his father created wax wings so they could fly away from their captors. The father warned Icarus from flying too high or too low, but he ignored his fathers warnings and flew too close to the sun and his wings melted. It’s a moral story to warn against the dangers of complacency and hubris, but to me it’s just a tragedy.” You say, turning to face him, making eye contact with the man. He listened intently to the story, his face unreadable but you thought you saw a flash of something in his eyes, maybe he related to the myth, a man that was once held captive, now with everything in his hands, in danger of losing it all if he flew too close to the sun himself.

“A tragedy huh? I don’t think there’s anything tragic about it. He was warned not to do something dangerous and he went and did it anyway, it’s his own damn fault,” he stated, something slightly argumentative in his tone.

He looked straight at you while speaking and you couldn’t help but feel as if he was looking into your soul, like his statement was some kind of test.

“I agree with the idea that he got what he deserved, but I meant it as a tragedy for his father. Creating something so pure for you and your child to escape from captivity, only for your child to ignore your warnings and pay the ultimate price for it. His father probably spent the rest of his life regretting escaping his prison because that was the action that ultimately lead to his sons death. It’s heartbreaking if you see it from a different perspective,” you say back, not really expecting him to engage you in a philosophical debate.

“Hmm.. that’s an interesting way to see it, I’m not really one for looking at different perspectives, mine suits me just fine,” he answered, the fact that this man was dangerous came screaming back to you with the look on his face, blank like he was devout of all emotion at that moment. You got the feeling he wasn’t speaking metaphorically anymore.

The tension was palpable, you not knowing what to say next and him deciding he was done talking for the time being. He placed the book down on a side table, and turned back to you. “Y’know what, I want it.” He said, confusing flooding your brain.

“Want what?” You ask calmly, not wanting to push your luck with the man.

“That tattoo, the Icarus one, I want it.” He answers, leaning back against the side of the table he was sat at earlier. His crossed his arms, which should have been intimidating, but for some reason the only thought floating through your head was Damn his arms are bigger than my head. Gimmie.

“You want the Icarus?” You ask, somewhat stupidly and he had just said that.

“Yes I do,” he answered simply, “Are you free tomorrow?” He asks, smile on his face.

“Umm not really, I have a few appointments tomo..”

“Move them, hell cancel them. Block out a spot long enough for me to get this tattoo.” He states, cutting of your sentence.

“I can’t do that, it’s too short notice and I could loose..”

“I’ll pay what ever you lose for cancelling the appointments. I’m getting this done, tomorrow.” He cuts you off again, a finality in his tone that warns you it would be pointless and probably rather stupid to argue.

“Uh..ok” you respond, shaking your head a little, still trying to figure out what just happened.

“Great.” He clapped his hands together and the sound made you jump. Barnes either didn’t notice it or just didn’t care. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh? Why do you want my phone?” You question.

Barnes just rolled his eyes, walked forward until he was stood right infront of you, toe to toe, staring down at you with a semi amused look on his face.

“How am I supposed to find out where your shop is if you don’t text me the location?” He said sarcastically.

Literally a million different ways, google it for starters, get one of your goons to find it, stalk me and follow me there.. c’mon man think. Obviously you kept these thoughts to yourself but Barnes smirked as if he could hear them anyway. Pulling out your phone and handing it to him you ask, “What time do you want to come in for?”

“Around 1-ish doll, that ok?” He asked, knowing that it is, as he’s already told you to move/cancel your other appointments.

“That’s fine by me Bar..Mr Barnes” you answer, slipping up, almost forgetting the level of respect you should probably show to the gangster in your home.

He calls his phone from yours, adding the new number to contacts in both phones, “there, now you can let me know the address of your shop.”

“I’ll sent it to you tomorrow.. unless you want me to send it now?” You asked he hands your phone back , uncertain of what he wanted

“Tomorrows fine” he answers, walking backwards towards the front door, “I’ll see ya in the afternoon doll,” he says while opening the door and mostly leaving until he pauses completely, slowly turning back towards you.

This is it, he’s been messing with me this whole time and now he’s going to shoot me.

“Tell Caleb he has 6 weeks to get my money back to me or I’ll be paying him another visit, ok doll.” He says, no question in his voice. He waits until you answer with a “Yes, Mr Barnes,” and disappears into the hallway outside your apartment.

It takes about 5 minutes for the shock to fully wear off, and it causes you to stagger over to the couch, fall backwards onto it an ask into the empty room, “What the actual fuck just happened?”

As soon as the question was out of your mouth , your phone buzzed in your hand.

James:

Don’t ever call me Mr Barnes again Y/n.

It makes me feel ancient.

I hate that.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #mob!bucky #bucky barnes #mob!bucky fic #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #tattoo artist!reader

[navybrat817]

" Scraping their teeth over your neck to have a shiver of arousal run down your spine. "

With Bucky. 🥺

This probably didn't go the way anyone wants, nonnie, and I'm sorry!

Give Me a Name

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Tension, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, pet names, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Because who doesn't want a mob boss obsessed with them? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Today was a not-so-friendly reminder that mistakes in your job weren’t so easy to fix. You had been in pursuit of a target for weeks and finally managed to catch him. The rookie agent, however, didn’t secure the cuffs and the bastard managed to get a hard hit in when he broke free. The dizziness from the blow was enough to let him get away.

The rookie went after him, but you knew he wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to start all over with tracking him and you didn’t even get a chance to go home to lick your wounds. Not when Bucky’s men showed up and put you in a car.

You should’ve known they were close by.

“I can walk!” You argued minutes later when they brought you to the Barnes mansion. The mob boss had a few homes, but this one had been in the family for years. He had invited you here before, but never took you by force.

Until today.

The men carefully arranged you on a leather sofa in the den before one of them went to get their boss. He hadn’t left the room before the door flew open, the very man he went to find standing there with a look thunderous enough to kill. He snatched something out of one of his soldier’s hands before he went to you, no one daring to speak a word.

You held your breath as you glanced at Bucky. He had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up as he assessed you, the veins in his arms popped out as he clenched his fists. He was built like a soldier with his massive frame, his life story told in the tattoos and scars that adorned his covered skin. The notorious crime lord more than earned his reputation and he promised he’d tell you his story himself one day.

Today wouldn’t be that day.

He brushed some of his long hair from his eyes before crouching down beside you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he dabbed at your cheek with the cloth. He stopped when you winced, but you gave him a small smile to let him know he could continue. You didn’t expect tenderness from such a rough man, but you were different to him, weren’t you? You had been since the two of you crossed paths some time ago. Why?

What made you so special?

“Who did this to you?” He asked in a low voice. You could hear that he tried to keep the raging storm inside of him, but his icy eyes showed you everything. The growing fury was bound to come out. Who would he destroy in his path to sate the beast?

“Bucky. I’m fine,” you croaked as you tried to sit up more, but he stopped you from moving. “The guy got lucky and it isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. Just let me get back to work,” you said.

You noticed most of the men nearby avoided eye contact when you looked around. They had every reason to be afraid. James Buchanan Barnes was downright terrifying when crossed.

And crossing you was a worse offense in his eyes.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, though he didn't raise his voice. “Tell me his fucking name so I can take care of it.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. If you did, he’d kill him. No, he’d torture him first. Likely for days on end before he begged for death. And you needed him alive.

That was your job.

Yet, you could never find it in yourself to bring Bucky in.

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

You froze at the cold tone before you realized Bucky didn’t direct that statement at you. One of his men standing feet away turned his head to the side because he got caught staring. You should’ve known better. Whatever cat and mouse game you and the mob boss were playing, it was for him to catch you in his trap, but never hurt you.

Not when he wanted to keep you.

“I’m sorry, boss,” the man promised, his tone wavering when Bucky reached for one of his pistols. “I-”

“‘Cause I’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back if you glance at her again,” he promised. He was a man of his word. “Leave us. All of you. Now.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” you assured him as they filed out. The men were dangerous, but you weren’t about to let him shoot the poor guy for looking your way.

“It isn't okay. Someone put their hands on you,” he nearly growled, the soft touch to your cheek a stark contrast to his voice. “You think I can let that go? I can’t. I won’t.”

You brought a hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. His eyes shut for a moment and grabbed your wrist before you could pull away. He dragged your fingers through the short beard along his jaw, like he was starved of your touch and needed more. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him.

Not when you belonged in different worlds.

“You don’t have to ‘avenge’ me, Bucky, because I’m not yours,” you said carefully. Were you telling him for his sake or yours? “Let it go. Please.”

The storm continued to rage in his eyes when he opened them and you wondered who would win the battle of the wills. You held your breath again when he moved close, the scent of his woodsy cologne making your head spin. Instead of brushing his lips against yours, he brought his mouth to your neck. Scraping his teeth over your pulse, you couldn’t stop the shiver of arousal that moved down your spine.

“You are mine, Kisa,” he whispered, giving your neck another nip as you tried not to whimper. “And I’m going to find out who did this whether you tell me or not. And I’m going to kill him.”

Your heart shouldn’t have raced faster at his declaration. “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”

“You are home,” he replied, pulling away and looking into your eyes so you could see how serious he was. “And I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest in my bedroom.”

You shuddered because you both knew you wouldn’t get a wink of rest if he took you to bed. And if you slept with him, there would be no turning back. “You can’t keep me prisoner here, Winter.”

The cold and ruthless man who only wanted you.

“You’re not my prisoner, Kisa,” he said, pressing his lips softly to your pained cheek. “But I’m never letting you go.”

He’d prove that to you.

I don't know about you lovelies, but I kind of love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes x agent!reader #winter and kisa #bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

[urdepressedslut]

You’re Mine, Sunshine

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite?

♡ Warnings: mentions of amputation, light angst, hints to violence, mentions of death, bucky being a grumpy man

Part 2

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!AU Bodyguard!AU

“Mr. Barnes, your résumé so far is quite impressive.” Pierce acknowledged with a slow nod.

Bucky of course had a trained eye, but the glares that were not so subtly sent his way by the big boss— were intimidating. He wasn’t scared, no. He simply respected this man’s power. Bucky knew better than to get on the bad side of someone like Pierce.

“Says here you’re an amputee?” Pierce asked so bluntly, and he noticed Bucky’s eyes squint slightly. “Sorry, if I’m overstepping but nothing will be overlooked.”

“It’s not a problem, sir.” Bucky assured him. “Yes, I lost my left arm during a mission way back.”

Pierce furrowed his brows.

“Mission? I take it you used to be an agent of some sort.” He assumed.

Bucky nodded.

“Hm, very good. Continue.” He waved him on.

“I had some surgical procedures— and now I have a prosthetic.”

Bucky lifted his left arm, rolling his sleeve slightly up to expose the metal to the boss. Pierce hummed impressively, taking in the intricate designs on the metal.

“I can assure you that me having a prosthetic will not be an issue— my arm is made out of only the strongest metal. Bullet proof, in fact.” He added, hoping it would further impress the boss, proving just how perfect for the job he was.

It wasn’t his dream to be a bodyguard, actually it was quite a low in his career— if you asked him. He had fallen out of his previous steady job, due to some complications. He had the experience of being a bodyguard— just not for only one person. It would be a weird change for him, but he was willing to take on the challenge. Also, the pay was nice.

Pierce hummed again, the information that his prosthetic arm was bullet proof— only satisfying him more.

“Like I said, impressive Mr. Barnes. But this is an extremely important task. My only daughter, who must be protected at all costs.” Pierce trailed off, expression growing serious. “It’s been a hard adjustment since the passing of my wife, my daughter is all I have left.”

Bucky nodded in understanding, knowing what it was like to lose loved ones. In fact, that wound was still fresh on him.

“If I allow you to take on this role, you are to swear to yourself that you will do whatever it takes to keep her alive— no matter what.” Pierce spoke loudly, his voice orotund.

Bucky in the back of his mind thought about his choice of words. ‘If I allow you.’ Bucky respected this man, but he had to hold back the scoff that threatened to escape his lips at his statement.

“Do you think you’re ready for that?” Pierce challenged, and suddenly it wasn’t about his daughter at all. It was a man challenging another man, a task that he deemed impossible.

His metal hand behind his back whirred in annoyance. After all that fluffing his head up, complimenting his training. It was clear Pierce thought so little of him, and at that— it made Bucky wanna take the job even more. Just to prove him wrong.

“Yes sir.” Bucky promised, shaking Pierces hand in a firm— slightly aggressive shake.

Pierce smiled, dropping Bucky’s résumé on his desk. Getting himself comfortable, he sat on the edge of the front of the desk, crossing his arms.

“Now, let’s go through what is to be expected.” He started, Bucky nodded for him to continue. “You are to be with her at all times, except for when you sleep. You do sleep right?”

Bucky let the scoff escape this time, but it wasn’t as aggressive as he wanted it to be.

“I’ve got a metal arm, but I’m still human sir.”

Pierce chuckled to himself, and Bucky wanted to roll his eyes. This man thinks he’s so funny.

“Right. You must never let her leave your sight, if she wants to see her friends— you’ll be seeing them with her. Not that it’s going to be an issue, I don’t think she has many friends… or any.” The boss shrugged, seemingly unconcerned about his daughter.

Bucky nodded, taking everything in.

“You are going to be staying with her in the safe house… well— she thinks it’s just a house but the area is guarded with my men.” He shrugged again. “I’m a successful man and with that comes enemies, people who look for my weaknesses. You know that.”

Bucky gave a tight lipped smile, Pierce so far sounding like a father of the year.

“Now, about my daughter. Her name is (Y/n) (Y/L/n), and she is a handful.” Pierce stated frustratedly. “She’s rude, ungrateful, nasty— and just overall extremely difficult.”

Bucky furrowed his brows, rethinking his decision to be a bodyguard for this girl. Fucking lovely.

“You can now understand why I’m paying you the offered amount. It’s only fair to you, Mr. Barnes. Truthfully, I can’t deal with her anymore. I love her, and she’s my daughter but… It just doesn’t work out with me. I’m a busy man— I don’t have time for brats.” Pierce spat, straightening up and heading back around his desk.

Bucky had already been creating this mental image of you, so far you sounded like a witch. He was not at all ready to be dealing with you 24/7.

“Doesn’t sound like a problem boss, I’m happy to be protecting your daughter. Nobody will lay a hair on her head, I swear on my life.” Bucky promised again, bowing his head slightly.

“Oh I know. If anything happens to her and I find out you were slacking even by an inch… well you’re a smart man, I’m sure you can figure it out.” Pierce warned, and Bucky swallowed at the mere intimidation that laced his voice.

But he would not back down to this challenge, which is how he saw this— not a job.

“That will be all Mr. Barnes, (Y/n) is around here somewhere. Find her and take her home.” He told Bucky, putting on his glasses— focusing on his paperwork.

“Yes sir.”

Bucky nodded and turned to exit the room. He was so confused with the interaction. You’d think someone who hires a bodyguard for their daughter would know where their daughter is. The way he spoke about you was off putting. Bucky didn’t even know you, but it felt wrong to hear someone talk so little about you. What did he know anyway— apparently you were a monster.

He made his way through the building with a swift walk, needing to fulfill his duties and find you quickly. He was on the third floor, about to hit the button to the elevator when he saw a young lady. Despite him wanting to find you all on his own, he got her attention.

“Excuse me,” He waved to her with a fake smile, “Do you know where I can find (Y/n) (Y/L/n)?”

The lady smiled and took Bucky by surprise by laughing. His fake smile vanished immediately, his eyes squinting in a annoyed expression.

“That would be me!” You exclaimed with a warm smile.

Bucky’s eyes widened and he thought for a second he was being fucked with, but after you stayed smiling at him, being as patient as ever— he knew you weren’t joking.

“Uh right… Your dad is Pierce?” He asked hesitantly, keeping his guard up. Still thinking someone was messing with him— testing him.

You nodded slowly, giving him a curious expression. Your smile never wavering.

“Yes, and you are?” You asked so politely.

Bucky shouldn’t of been as shocked as he was but truthfully, he was expecting a demon spawn of a person. Red eyes, withered flowers left in your path, a literal storm cloud floating over you— but you looked so normal. So sweet and pretty. Your hair smelled so strongly of strawberry shampoo, he could catch the scent from his spot. Your voice was like honey, the sound soothing.

He was confused as to why your father thought so wrongly of you. He had too many questions.

He cleared his throat, straightening himself now that he believed you were who he was looking for.

“(Y/n), my name is Mr. Barnes— I’ve been hired as your personal bodyguard.” He informed you, watching the corners of your mouth falter slightly.

“Oh, did my Father hire you?” You asked politely.

“Yes ma’am.”

You nodded your head, attempting to keep a smile on your face. But you couldn’t help the distaste for being given a bodyguard. You knew it was only for the sole purpose, that your Father didn’t want to care for you anymore. He wanted nothing to do with you. That fact was enough to make your nose start to burn, but you held yourself together— not wanting to break down in front of this new guy.

Bucky watched you take in the information, the way you took a deep breath, almost controlling yourself before you spoke again.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Barnes. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends.” You told him.

Bucky shook his head, an annoyed expression etching his face.

“Ma’am, I think we should keep things professional. I have been hired as your bodyguard. Let me do my job, and you can continue with your day as usual. You won’t even know I’m here half the time.” He explained rather harshly.

You seemed taken aback, his words hurting you more than they should’ve. You were lonely, and you thought you’d be able to get a friend out of this situation. Even if he was being hired to hang around you. Luck didn’t seem to be on your side as he told you off. The burning felt stronger in your nose, and you took another deep breath.

Bucky only felt bad for a second, but he was quickly snapping back to reality. It was his life on the line to protect you, and if Bucky was anything— it was that he was good at doing his job. This was business, not playtime.

“I’m here to take you home. Are you ready?” He asked you.

You relaxed your quick beating heart, not even having time to speak with your Father. Not that he’d want to anyway. So much had changed since your Mother passed, you had yet to heal those wounds.

You nodded with a weaker smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. If Bucky had noticed your sudden mood change, he didn’t mention it— instead guiding you outside.

He opened the door to the car that was waiting outside for you, climbing in himself after you were settled.

He started driving to your place, with the help of the car telling him directions.

Meanwhile you gazed out the window, watching the buildings pass by. You forced yourself to keep a small smile on your face, hoping you’d convince yourself that the gesture was genuine if you did it long enough.

Bucky glanced back at you through the rear view mirror from time to time, watching you look out the window. He was still trying to come to terms with how polite you were, how completely opposite you were to your Fathers description.

On one hand it was a relief that he didn’t have to deal with the devil. On the other hand… he was anxious to see where this job would lead him.

A/N: I don’t know what is wrong with me, but suddenly I had this urge to write a bodyguard!bucky fic. let’s be honest, we are all slut’s for bodyguard!bucky 😭 I’m also a whore for the trope grumpy x sunshine 🥰🥴 let me know what you think— this is all word vomit.

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe #reader insert #sebastian stan #buckybarnes #fluff #marvel imagines #light angst #oneshot #bodyguard bucky barnes #bodyguard au #mob au #grumpy x sunshine #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #beefy bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #mini series

[cloudystevie]

pavlov's dog

»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««

pairing || mob boss!bucky barnes x f!reader

word count || 1812

summary || he kept you waiting and it's his honour to make it up to you.

warnings || smut! loosely depicted mafia business, daddy kink, oral fem receiving, pet names, begging, mild degradation, dacryphilia, pussy slaps, cmnf, subspace, dom!bucky

author's note || 18+ ONLY. hi. i haven't written for more than a year and a half. ive been feeling some type of way about bucky and maybe getting back to writing mindless porn is what i needed to get my creative fulfillment ive been severely lacking. please don't mind the potentially choppy smut as i haven't written in a long while. feel free to reblog and leave comments!!

»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««

8:53.

8:53 PM, and you were still waiting for Bucky to finish his meeting. A recent competitor was threatening Bucky’s monopoly in New York, apparently, something to do with some guy who owned a publishing company inherited by his grandpa, who was looking to buy one Bucky already owned.

Whatever. You weren’t really listening when Bucky was talking about it over the phone because you were too busy keeping his cock warm.

You watch the digital clock flash another minute, and finally, your phone dings with an activity notification at the front door. Before you can try to be chill about it, you all but run to the door to greet your man, practically jumping on the balls of your feet with excitement. The door swings open, and you barely glimpse Bucky's tired and frustrated expression before it morphs into a sweet smile reserved for you, making his eyes crinkle at the corners and shine. 

Running into his arms, you koala hug him as you nuzzle your nose into his neck. He expertly toes his shoes off while showering you with the same attention. “Were you waiting by the door for me the whole time, baby?” He asks with a smile.

Nodding your head yes and widening your eyes while twisting your lips into a pout, you decide to play the sweet, patient girlfriend who Bucky knows you really aren’t. “You kept me waiting for 4 whole hours, Jamie, 4 hours. I stood right by this door and didn’t take a single break until you came home.” 

A hearty laugh escapes his lips at that, and you can feel the tension from his shoulders leaving as you gently rub them while still managing to cling onto him as he maneuvers you two to your bedroom. Unfortunately, both of you are well aware that patience is a virtue that you very simply do not possess.

“My poor, incredibly patient and honest baby. How rude of me to keep you waiting like this, huh?” He keeps his voice low, both in pitch and volume. It sends a tangible shiver down your spine as he sets you down on the bed. You bite your bottom lip, subconsciously spreading your legs, unable to hide your reactions from him.

Bucky loves how responsive you are to him.

“So mean to me daddy.” You whisper, “need you to make it up to me.”

Bucky licks his lips and clenches his jaw because fuck he needed this, especially after being stuck at his office for nearly 4 extra hours while you were at home looking like this. So sweet and soft and submissive for him; all he needed was someone to control because his empire in New York was being tried.

But Bucky had it under control. He always did. This wasn’t the first time he had to deal with a newcomer who decided to get a little ballsy and try and take over some of his territory.

He always did fuck you more aggressively when work had more hiccups than usual.

“Yeah, honey baby? How do you want Daddy to make it up to you? Use your words.” Bucky’s tone kept dropping, getting deeper and deeper with each delicious word he spoke to your somehow already foggy brain.

Even while he was giving you some control, he managed to maintain dominance over you, and that just flared the heat pulsing between your thighs.

“Need you, daddy, want your mouth.” You whisper, heat spreading your cheeks as you voice what you want, but a surge of pride goes through Bucky. At the beginning of the relationship, you had really struggled with voicing what you wanted, whether it was something like telling him you didn’t feel like getting dolled up to eat at a luxury French restaurant and wanted some burgers instead or how you struggled to say to him you wanted him to take his shoes and coat off before he came inside your apartment and sat on your couch. He dealt with people who feared him every day, people who never corrected him or crossed him. It was made abundantly clear you are not one of those people; you need to tell him what to do and how to do it, and he will. Bucky would bring the moon and the stars to you if the thought ever crossed your mind.

Dropping to his knees will have to do for now, he thinks.

His large palms spread your thighs as your pliant body falls back, but you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch the show. Bucky smiles at you with hunger in his eyes as he licks his lips once again while gingerly sliding your pajama shorts down your legs. You inhale sharply as the cool air from the open balcony doors hits your core. Bucky can’t help the rumble emerging from his chest as takes in your already wet pussy, bringing his thumb up to flick your swollen clit and messily run the tip of his finger around your pussy.  “You were waiting for me without any panties on? You’re that fucking desperate for me, sweetheart? Ready to bend over for me as soon as I walk through the door?”

You whimper at his fingers and throw your head back, nodding it desperately fast. 

“Aww, don’t go quiet on me now,” Bucky teases, “you were being such a good girl telling me what you want. Don’t stop now, angel baby.”

You whine high in your throat as you tug on his hand that is still purposefully brushing over your clit, “Please, Daddy, just- just-” 

Before you can finish your plea, Bucky licks up your slit, expertly swirling his tongue around your clit as your thighs jolt around his head, and a surprised mewl leaves your lips. “Oh god, Daddy, need more, please more,” your hands reach out to grab onto whatever you can, one hand gripping Bucky’s hair, making him hiss and buck his own hips against his tight slacks while the other latches onto the silk bedsheets.

“Greedy girl,” Bucky hums against your pussy, but to your delight, he indulges you, slipping a thick finger into your pulsing hole. Still, before you have time to react to that, he’s wrapping his lips around your swollen clit for the first time tonight and sucks on it. Making your back arch up and your legs quake as you try to simultaneously push yourself away from him but pull him closer. A near-pornographic moan leaves your swollen lips as your chest heaves. You cry out his title as he slides another long finger inside you, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks on your poor little clit and soothes it with kitten licks every few seconds.

“Oh Daddy, you’re gonna- fuck, you’re gonna make me cum please, Daddy, please can I cum!” You babble, drool seeping from your lips as Bucky always manages to reduce you to a mindless, pathetic mess. It had never been easy for you to stop or slow down your orgasm, as Bucky always tended to barrel it out of you. Although you had noticed that the high that spread through your body when he permitted it was much more euphoric than the orgasms that slipped out of you.

Maybe it was something akin to Pavlov’s dog effect. Conditioning.

Bucky was aware of this fact as well. He knew your body, your mind, better than you did. 

A satisfied smirk works itself onto his lips, and he grumbles something against your sensitive cunt, enjoying the way you struggled to keep your body at bay. “I dunno, my stupid little baby, dunno if you’re desperate enough yet.” Bucky’s words vibrate against you and propel you towards your high even quicker. Your whines get more high-pitched and breathy as you struggle against your boyfriend’s relentless tongue. “I am Daddy, I am desperate. Always am for you, please, Daddy, make me cum.” You whine a bit petulantly as your orgasm is right there. But he’s dangling it above your head and forcing you to obey him. So, you try the guilt-tripping route.

Tears well in your eyes, and your lip quivers, “Please, Daddy, don’t you wanna make me cum? Don’t you wanna take care of me? Make me cum all over your tongue and make a mess? Please, Daddy, need you so bad!” You cry, tears slipping down your face, and Bucky grunts, closing his eyes as he tries not to cum in his pants at the sound of your breathy pitch and the sight of tears slipping down your face.

He pulls back and curves three fingers toward your special spot, and takes his other hand to slap at your swollen clit in quick succession, making you squeal. Arousal paints your thighs as he quickly switches back to overstimulate your poor button by sucking on it so hard that your orgasm squirts onto his bearded face, making him groan in appreciation as he mumbles something like: “That’s it, there’s my good girl making a fucking mess like Daddy taught you.” But you are too out of your mind to really process his words as you struggle to breathe down from your high, tears slipping down your face as you bask in the overwhelming feelings of such an intense orgasm. 

Bucky kisses up your thighs and stomach, easing his fingers out and tongue away slowly so you don’t go from overstimulated to zero all at once. He cups your face in his hands and kisses your cheeks as he shushes you, bringing you down from your high with soft words and coos that appeal to your clouded brain. You cup his much larger hands in yours, pouting your lips up for a kiss, and he chuckles before placing a soft kiss against your swollen lips. He can taste the salt from your tears, and it sends even more blood rushing straight to his dick as he ruts his hips against yours, making you pull your lips apart on a mewl. 

“Daddy, will you fuck me now?” You ask with a certain lilt to your voice. Bucky scoffs before pressing his lips to yours and rumbling against your lips, “You’re an insatiable little whore you know that?” 

Manhandling you to the top of the bed, he throws you against the pillows as unbuttons his slacks and pulls his hard cock out, pre-cum oozing from the swollen red tip as he looks like he could destroy you. “I’m your little whore daddy.” You tease, spreading your shaky legs apart, and he licks his lips.

—--------

Bucky worked from home the next morning. Needing the extra time to make up for the late nights and the particularly strenuous activities that led into the early morning hours. 

As you sat on his lap, peacefully dozing in and out of sleep, he knew he had made the right choice that morning.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes smut #mafia! bucky barnes x reader #mafia! bucky barnes smut

[jobean12-blog]

Aftermath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 2,318

Summary: Bucky has kept you safe for as long as he's had you but the first time you don't follow his orders is definitey going to be the last.

Author's Note: These new pics are giving lots of mob/mafia vibes and I love it! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: some angst in the beginning and illusions to violence, mentions of a gun, Bucky is soft and there are lots of fluffy moments but he's pissed you didn't listen and he needs you.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing heavily when Nat doesn’t pick up the phone. She only called you two minutes ago. Right after she sent you a text telling you she needed to talk. Under any other circumstances you would never leave your perch at the bar. Never leave the safety of Bucky’s club and go against his orders.

However, your best friend needs you. She just had a bad break up and things are still rocky so any time she calls you were sure to be there for her. So here you are, standing on the sidewalk outside Bucky’s nightclub, phone pressed to your ear and your foot tapping rapidly against the concrete.

Bucky told you about the heavy tension building between him and a rival boss trying to impede on his territory. He told you that your safety was his first priority. That’s why you were with him at his club right now. He didn’t want you out of his sight.

But you were only just right outside the door…

You’ll try Nat one more time then go back inside and wait for Bucky like he asked.

The phone starts ringing and you hold your breath, hoping she’ll answer. Just as you hear her voice on the other end a car pulls up at the curb and with one glance the occupants have you swiftly turning on your heel and heading back toward the doors of the club.

“Nat,” you say quietly. “Are you ok?”

“I’m having a rough night,” she sighs. “I need your opinion on something.”

“Of course.”

You’re walking at a brisk clip, realizing that during your musings you had wandered farther from the door than you intended to.

Nat is still talking but the sound of your blood rushing through your ears starts to drown out any other sounds.

Four men get out of the car, none of which you recognize. You need to get inside quickly. One of them, carrying a baseball bat, twirls it lazily in his hand as he saunters closer, looking you over appreciatively.

Apprehension shoots up your spine, intuition guaranteeing that they’re here to start trouble.

“Nat I have to go. Call Bucky.”

She starts to reply but you hang up before she can, hoping she heard the trepidation in your voice and does as you asked.

Before you can reach the entrance, two of them lunge in front of you and block your progress.

“Where are you goin’ so fast beautiful?” One of the men asks.

“Excuse me,” you say.

A third man circles up behind you.

“Let me by,” you tell them.

The man holding the baseball bat ignores you.

“You belong to Barnes don’t you?”

Your suspicions are right. These are bad men and they are definitely looking to cause some trouble for your husband. And you.

You shrink back on purpose, appealing to their inflated arrogance and hoping they will underestimate you.

“Please. Just let me go.”

The man with the bat laughs as he runs the coarse wood along your bare calf.

“Think your man will miss you?”

Before the bat reaches your thigh you smack it away. Even though the attempt is most likely useless you’re hoping to pass more time. One of the men behind you snakes a hand around your elbow and yanks you toward him.

“Get in the fucking car baby,” he sneers. “It’s for your own good.”

The fourth man, still in the car, pushes open the back door and lets out a whistle.

“Come on gorgeous. I’ll keep you warm for Barnes.”

You take a deep breath as they propel you toward the car and only put up a small amount of resistance. As soon as you sense they are under the false impression that you’re coming willingly, the hand on your elbow weakens and you act.

With sharp and quick movements you reach for the baseball bat now dangling loosely from the leader’s hands and grab it, swinging it in a large arc to buy yourself some room.

Two of the men jump back, having been caught off guard, but it connects with the leader’s rib cage and he let’s out a vile curse, falling to his knees.

You back up as the other two men approach. Unfortunately, it’s in the direction away from the doors.

“He should have locked this one up,” the man closest to you laughs. “She’s full of fire.”

“And I’m going to enjoy that,” he leader says as he stands, still holding his ribs.

You bring the bat down hard as he lunges for you, but he dodges the weapon and barrels himself closer until he can wrap a strong arm around your waist.

The bat is ripped from your hands and your back is plastered against the man’s chest, his hand creeping up between your breasts to wrap around your throat.

He squeezes hard, tight enough to cut of your air and reflectively your fingers claw and try to pry his hand away.

You try to focus, getting ready to go limp and convince him you’re out cold, so you can somehow disable him.

Just as you’re about to put your plan into action the front door of the club flies open, hitting the side of the brick building with enough force to crack the metal.

Through your dimming eyesight, you can make out several men, including Bucky, before his ferocious growl of denial echoes through the air around you.

It startles the man choking you enough that he eases up on the pressure, allowing you to suck in precious oxygen.

Guns are drawn just before your knees hit the concrete and your stomach twists with renewed fear.

“Bucky,” you whisper, getting to your feet and stepping closer to him.

His haunted gaze makes you swallow hard and you can see the emotional battle written all over his handsome features. With his long finger poised on the trigger, he clearly wants to end the man who had his hands on you.

Without a word he tears his attention away from you, indicting your captor with a nod of his head.

“Steve.”

Steve, his own gun held in a tight grasp, moves in front of Bucky and toward the other man.

“He doesn’t go anywhere,” Bucky seethes.

The other two men from the rival group, still outside of the car, lower their weapons, watching with no emotion as Steve wrestles their leader to the ground with the gun to his head.

Finally, they let out a string of curses and hop back into the car, leaving their ‘friend’ behind as they peel away from the curb.

Bucky motions to Clint and Sam. “Follow them. This ends tonight.”

As Clint and Sam rush off to follow Bucky’s order he slowly saunters forward, the open collar of his shirt blowing wider in the light breeze.

He picks up the bat with a nonchalance that contradicts the tightness of his body and swings it deftly in his metal hand. When his fingers close around the handle you hear the wood crack under the pressure.

Bucky comes to a stop directly over the left-behind leader, and his gaze meets yours for a brief, heavy second, before he raises the bat high and brings it down with enough force to make you gasp.

Your heart races out of control, breathing shallow in your ears. The bat connects with the sidewalk next to the man’s head, sending shards of wood in every direction.

Your relief is short lived.

Bucky crouches down and looks the cowering man straight in his eyes.

“You. Are a dead man.”

Slowly and purposefully he rises to his feet and holds his hand out for you. You swallow the hard lump in your throat and place your fingers in his. In a split second you’re swept into his arms and tugged against his hard chest.

He drags you toward his car and tucks you into the passenger seat, buckling your belt and then slamming the door shut.

Through the closed window you can still hear him shout to Steve. “You know where to take him. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The silence stretches long and thin through the car and you can almost feel Bucky’s rage. You open your mouth to speak but promptly shut it when you hear his huff of warning.

He hates the feeling of fear so instead he welcomes the anger, focusing on it, wishing it’s enough to block out the image of you being choked, your feet scraping at the ground and hands clawing at your neck.

If he dwells on it too long his whole word will collapse and he has to get you home. To safety.

At the reminder of what he saw as he walked out of the club, his grip tightens on the leather steering wheel, almost making the car swerve.

When he pulls up in front of your house he checks his surroundings before driving in through the gated driveway. He looks to you, a silent demand to wait, before he gets out of the car and does another sweep of the area.

Once he deems it safe he opens your door and helps you out of the car.

When you’re safely inside the house he leaves you standing just inside the door, inside the large and opulent foyer, as he flies around the nearby rooms and checks every window and lock.

Your gaze follows him the entire time, trying desperately to draw him in and away from the rage. He staunchly defies it and after he feels satisfied the house is safe he takes you by the arm and leads you toward your shared master bedroom.

He walks to the nightstand and opens the drawer, reaching deep into the back to retrieve a gun.

“Bucky, please. Will you just talk to me?”

He can feel you standing close.

“You will stay in this room, with the door locked, until I come back. Anyone tries to get in that isn’t me, you shoot them. Understand?”

When your silence becomes too much he turns to you, keeping his eyes steady as he pleads.

“Tell me you’ll listen. That you understand.”

You take a deep inhale but still don’t speak.

“I’m waiting for my answer doll.”

You move closer and everything inside him tenses up.

“Don’t,” you whisper.

You lay a hand on his chest, immediately making him tremble from head to toe. His eyes close defensively as your hand moves higher and sneaks under the open buttons of his shirt then to his neck and finally into his hair.

Your lips press to his neck.

“Please Bucky. Don’t leave me. Stay.”

He shakes his head, unable to speak and it only makes you drag your lips higher, along his jaw until they hover just above his mouth.

A groan leaves his parted lips before he can stop it.

“I’m scared. I need you.”

Your lips brush over his, once, twice. The hand in his hair runs smoothly along the back of his neck and then coasts over his broad shoulder and down his chest.

“I have to go doll.”

His words are gritted and tortured before his name leaves your lips in a soft whisper.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“You know where I’m goin.’ Don’t make me say it.”

When he notices the glossiness of your eyes it strips him bare and he falls back a step, ready to fall to his knees for you.

“Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”

He’s shouting now.

“If I hadn’t gotten to you in time? One minute later, baby. One fucking minute!”

Your fingers tremble as you reach for him.

“I know, I…”

“You would have been gone. How can you expect me to survive that.”

He breaks off, not able to put the horrifying thought into more words.

“Fuck. I’m so mad at you doll. So mad. But all I can think about is how I need to be inside you. Need to feel you wrapped around me. Feel you everywhere.”

You tightly grasp the lapel of his jacket and drag him closer. He comes easily. Willingly.

“Bucky,” you whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just thought I’d be outside for a second. Nat needed me…I never thought…”

Every word you speak continues to topple the reinforced barrier of anger he’s built. The only thing keeping it standing is that there’s still some physical space between you both.

But then you take a step closer and curl your fingers in the hem of your dress to draw it up over your head, the whole time letting your knuckles and hands brush along his heaving chest and every ounce of his self-control vanishes.

His heated gaze rakes over you and his hands fist at his sides.

You press yourself against him and deliberately untuck his shirt, slipping your hands underneath the lush fabric and running your fingernails up his rigid stomach. His muscles contract beneath your fingers.

“I need you baby doll. So badly.”

You unhook your bra and drop it to the floor, tingles racing over your skin as his jaw grinds with his devouring stare. You lower your hand to palm and squeeze his straining arousal.

“You can have me now Bucky. Now and always.”

His expression softens long enough for you to catch the brightness in his eyes and then his mouth is on yours, his hands frenzied as they grasp and smooth over every inch of your bare skin. He never breaks the kiss as he walks you backward toward the bed, letting you gently fall to the soft mattress before he settles himself between your spread legs.

“I can’t touch all of you at once and it drives me crazy,” he whispers against your lips as his hand slides down between your legs. “I need everything, always.”

@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @lizette50 @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #mob!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #mob au #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

[writing-for-marvel]

Day 1: Mile High Club

Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon

Mob!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky start your honeymoon off the right way - by fucking in his private jet.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, sex on a plane, semi public sex, fingering, fingering in front of an unsuspecting flight attendant, oral (fem receiving), face sitting, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: the start of our honeymoon adventure! I hope you all enjoy all the fun smuttiness! Dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

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Bucky’s large, tattooed hand, adorned with a gold wedding band, is splayed on your thigh as his luxurious private jet roars to life, racing along the runway until you sense the drop in your stomach as it lifts off the ground and into the air.

Your heart begins to race as you feel Bucky’s hand slowly inch further up your thigh as the plane climbs higher in the sky. You take a deep, steadying breath as the force of the plane pushes your body back into your seat, appreciating the plush leather against your bare skin as Bucky’s electric touch reaches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Your honeymoon hasn’t even technically started and he is already proving that he can’t keep his hands off you. Just one of the many reasons you married him in the first place.

“I can’t wait to finally have my wife all to myself.” Your newlywed whispers as his hand reaches the apex of your thigh, your heart races just that little bit faster at the prospect of being caught by the stewardess required to accompany you on the flight.

“Hmm, and what have you got planned for when we’re all alone my dear husband?” Your breath hitches in your throat as Bucky’s cold finger slips underneath your panties and ghosts across your warm core.

A dangerously cocky grin curves onto his plump lips and even before he says the words to confirm your fate, you know he is going to make this a honeymoon you’ll never forget.

“I’m thinking about all the different ways I can ruin you and keep you stuffed full of my cum for the next four weeks.” He whispers seductively directly into your ear as his middle finger breaches your entrance. You inhale a sharp breath and bite the side of your lip as he pushes all the way in, smirking at you as if he knows this is just the beginning of every way he plans to ravage you.

A ding rings out through the cabin and before you can so much as flinch, an impeccably dressed hostess appears in front of you.

“We’re at cruising altitude, you can now unbuckle your seatbelts. Sir, is there anything you need?” She asks in a sweet voice, her tone indicating she either cannot see Bucky’s finger knuckle deep inside your dripping pussy, obstructed by the table in front of you, or is choosing not to acknowledge that fact.

Bucky answers without taking his eyes off you.

“To be left alone with my wife.”

The stewardess disappears as quickly as she materialised, but when Bucky adds a second finger to your pussy, stretching your walls by scissoring his fingers, your periphery goes blurry.

He picks up the pace, thrusting both fingers in and out of you relentlessly, his calloused thumb swiping over your clit with the perfect pressure he has learnt with experience does you in.

“That’s the spot, isn’t it darling.” He whispers in your ear as he curls his fingers to graze over the spongy patch inside you which makes you see stars. You nod but it’s superfluous, Bucky knows every inch of your body and is fully aware he’s got you figuratively and literally in the palm of his hand.

You grab hold of his veiny forearm to keep you tethered to reality as his motions bring you ever closer to floating off on a cloud of bliss.

“Cum for me.” Your husband demands. With a vigorous thrust of his fingers and a swipe of his thumb over your clit, the band in your lower stomach snaps and you comply with Bucky’s orders.

It is only once you’ve come down from your high that Bucky removes his fingers from your drenched pussy. He teases your lips with his slick covered fingers until you open wide and begin sucking on them, tasting your own sweet release.

“You know, I had a bed installed in the back of the jet just for this very occasion.” Bucky comments, nipping at your earlobe as you swirl your tongue around his fingers.

“What are we still doing here then?”

Bucky leads you to the back of the plane with your hand intertwined with his. As soon as the sliding door to the small yet private bedroom shuts behind you, Bucky’s lips attach to the column of your neck as every piece of clothing covering both your bodies gets thrown to the ground.

You’re held protectively in his arms as Bucky falls backwards onto the soft expanse of the bed. He kisses you assiduously as his hands roam your body, eventually making their way down to your ass, manhandling you to pull your body above his face.

“Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Can’t believe she’s all mine for the rest of my life.” Bucky hums before diving in. He starts with licking one long stripe up your slit, and you can feel his lips form a grin against you as your thighs tighten around his head. “You taste so good. So sweet.” He eats you out as if he’s been fasting for months, when in reality he was between your thighs on your wedding night less than 16 hours ago. He switches between his tongue being buried in your cunt, fucking up into your puckered hole and slurping obscenely, lapping up all the juices through your folds, twirling the tip of his tongue around your clit.

“Bucky, please, I-, please.” Your hands grasp onto his hair, tugging harder as his fingertips dig into the meat of your ass. The vibrations of his voice and the plane as it races through the atmosphere sends sparks firing up the base of your spine through your whole body.

“Are you desperate for your husband's cock, Mrs Barnes?” He asks teasingly against your folds, knowing referring to you by your new title will only make you wetter.

“Yes, Buck! I’m fucking dripping - need you so bad.” You plead with a sob, your pussy clenching around nothing, the ache within you burning like a forest fire which could only be quelled with him deep inside you.

Bucky’s soft lips place a feather light kiss to your sensitive clit before his strong hands grasp your hips tightly, lifting you onto his thick thighs. Your mind is dizzy with lust and pleasure, but Bucky’s dazzling blue eyes, the same ones that were the first feature of his you noticed the night you met, stand out clearly in your haze.

“Then take it. Take it like the good little whore I married. Take every inch of this dick and show me why it’s yours.”

Bucky’s large, rough hands don’t leave your hips as you stroke his thick length with both your hands a couple times as you lift yourself above him, rubbing his bulbous tip through your soaking folds. Lining yourself up with him, you press your hips back down on him slowly, feeling him fill you up to the brim.

You let out simultaneous groans, your eyes never once leaving Bucky’s as you focus on the sensation of how deliciously full and satiated you feel, how his eyes widen and lips fall apart is exactly like the first time you slept with him after making this formidable mob boss prove he’d treat you right.

You’d never forget the feeling of the first time he thrust into you, the fervour in which he worshipped your body and the way those ocean eyes gazed at you like you were the most precious gem he planned on treasuring for as long as you’d let him. This hardened man, who strikes fear in the eyes of the toughest of crime lords, is soft for you and only you.

It was the moment you truly understood what sex could be like - should be like.

You knew then that there was no one else for you. That you’d eventually marry him.

Both your hands find his strong, tattooed chest to steady yourself as you begin circling your hips, grinding against him, moaning at the sensation of your puffy clit rubbing the coarse hair at his pelvic bone.

“Oh God, Bucky, you’re so deep.” With Bucky’s strong hands assisting you, you push yourself up and sink back down on his cock. He lets you set your own pace, finding the right angle where he strokes all the right spots that makes your knees weak.

You can feel his heartbeat quicken under your fingertips, his mesmerised gaze fixated on how he’s filling you.

“Fuck, baby, look at you swallowing me whole.” Once you’ve built up a rhythm, one of Bucky's hands navigates to your breast where he flicks your pert nipple with his thumb, the other moving to where your bodies join, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

The pleasure feels like it’s coming from all directions, from both externally and within you, it’s too much and not enough at the same time, every nerve firing with pure euphoria, threatening to send you straight to heaven.

“I’m so close, Buck…” A sob bubbles up your throat, all cells in your body swelling with immense pleasure. More than ever you can feel each ridged inch of Bucky stretching out your pussy, every sensation heightened as with each rock of your hips you hurtle ever closer to your second high.

“Go ahead, my love, let go. Cum on your husband's cock.”

Ecstasy overtakes your entire body at his permission, your eyes roll backwards, your whole body seizes and your bouncing motions stop as your walls flutter around his thick, veiny length. But Bucky doesn’t let you off that easily, he grabs both of your hips and starts fucking up into you hard and fast, prolonging and heightening your orgasm with each graze of your g-spot, making your legs shake and you scream out his name so loudly you’re sure the pilots can hear.

You collapse into his chest as his thrusts become staggered, closing in on his own high. Placing a gentle kiss to his sharp jaw, Bucky grunts, moans your name and stalls within you, ropes of his cum painting your walls.

You tap his strapping chest three times as you both pant, catching your breath cuddling up to one another. I. Love. You.

His embrace feels like home, even thousands of feet up in the air. You’re certain that no matter where in the world you are, James Bucky Barnes will always be your safe place.

“Now, let's see how many more times I can make you cum before we land.”

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Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon Taglist: @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @kandis-mom @buggy14 @opheliastark @auntiegigi @alovecraft @cinnxbunny @zincxxx @cultofcarter @rose-alyssa @kaitlin013106 @wandas-gurlfri3nd @beautifulrare4leafclover @queenyamimarrero @littlerya @noobzandboobzandhooz @wanda2themax @lonelywolfheart @Kbananaclip14 @depressed-gays-of-marvel @ur--mommy @jollyfirebattrash @lauratang @casa-boiardi @raging-panda @nicoline1998enilocin @melsunshine @stinkerbelle007 @mememe7147 @happycat547 @matchat3a @Sirmeowertheruthless7 @inlovewithficnalmen @katiemarsblog @irienanicole @buckyisveryhot

#Bucky Barnes #Kinktober #kinktober 2023 #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes kinktober #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut #bucky barnes au #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel kinktober #em writes

[1800jjbarnes]

◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟔: 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡/𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐱 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇

Whoops

【Synopsis】 : You wanted to show your hot-headed lover that you could protect yourself. And what better way than to go looking for his number on rival....

『W.C』 :  3.07k

-> Genre: Mafia Au. Smut. Angst. 

Pairing: MobBoss!San x F.Reader

[Warnings] : Mention of criminal activity. Flirting. Manipulation. Seducing disgusting men (ew). Sweet talking, dirty talk, making out, neck kisses. Biting and marking. Aggressive Bucky. Pet names. Mention of guns. Abuse. Fucking in public (kinda). Bucky is literally crazy and you love it hehe. Punishment. Swearing. Fingering. Pussy slapping. Degrading. (use of slut). Praise. Head-spinning vibes. Spit cause Bucky likes it dirty and messy. Death. You both are sadistic and crazy okay this is pure filth.

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You had enough. All he did was worry about you and your way of life. He worried to the point the point he became paranoid. Adding more guards at almost every door of your home and always making sure there was someone by your side. In truth, you did appreciate him for worrying, but not to the point of him locking you in the house cause "The outside world is a bad place."

That was the last straw. He can't just lock you away like some doll that just sits and looks pretty for him. You were strong, hold your own. Just because you weren't born into this dark life doesn't mean you couldn’t handle it. So, to say you were fuming was putting it lightly.

You devised a plan, granted probably a stupid plan, but a plan nonetheless. To bring Bucky the one man that's been tormenting him into thinking you were unsafe. His enemy John. A ruthless, dimwitted mob boss on the border of Brooklyn and Queens. He didn't own much land, but he made up for it in trade. Bucky and him had been fighting for territory for years. And their fathers before that. So, of course, if you were to bring John to grovel at Bucky's knees for even better, just kill him. It would solve your problems.

Go big or go home, right?

You were dressed to impress. A lavish tight dress that hugged your figure in all the right places and heels that you were already begging to take off as they scratched your ankles. You were dolled up to perfection, and the best thing was that no one knew who you were. Sure, they knew of you, the infamous woman who stole the heart of the cold and cruel King of Brooklyn. But no one had a face to a name, Bucky made sure of that.

So you kind of thanked his overprotectiveness at this moment. But this was no time to thank your hot-headed lover. This was time to prove to him—and yourself—that you were more than capable of being in this dark world, his world.

You weaved through people of the loud nightclub, drawing attention from most of the men in the room. All of them were likely criminals in some way that you were aware of. In this world, no one's hands are clean. You also knew that this bar was what people called open danger. This meant no one owned it, and it was a "safe space" for gangs to strike deals with one another, and people in the underworld could mingle.

That also meant it was no man's land, where anyone and everyone was vulnerable.

Bucky had told you about these types of bars, and of course, he also said never to go to one. But here you were scanning the field of people to find who you were looking for. You did some digging and managed to find out that John liked to converse in this particular club and that he also, always without fail, took a girl home from said place. So that's what you were going to do;

Be the bait and make him fall.

Your heart was racing, but you kept a straight face. Quickly reaching into your bag and finally turning on your phone and not even a second, messages and missed calls flooded your notifications. Bucky would have found out by now that you were missing and tried using your phone tracker to find you. But given your phone was off, he would have been rageful knowing he couldn't find you. You scanned some of the messages

'Baby, where are you? Answer me, please.'

'You better not be somewhere stupid'

'I swear to god when I find you, you're in for the punishment of your fucking life.'

The last one made you feel a little dizzy. And now that your phone is back on, Bucky would surely show up here at any moment. So you had to act fast, in order for your plan to work. Spotting John sitting in an open booth with two guards on either side, you acted on your plan. All those drama classes you took as a kid were about to pay off, as you waltzed over with your hips swinging enough to get his attention. His eye immediately scanned your figure sickeningly. He was scum, a pig, and honestly a terrible criminal.

But you needed him gone. To end Bucky's stress once and for all. You learnt the rules of the game, watched how mob bosses played their hand, and now it was your turn to join.

"This seat taken?" Your voice was sweet as candy, making anyone melt from the tone. You battered your eyes and bit your lip, falling easily into the role of sweet and innocent. The pig was instantly intrigued, wanting you to be near him. He didn't say anything, no, he just patted the booth seat next to him, widening his thighs in a poor attempt to "show off" his physique to you.

You just giggled even though you'd rather puke. But you needed to do this now or never. Bucky would definitely be on his way now, and time was running short. So the art of sweet talking began. You laughed at his stories, placing lingering touches on his shoulders and chest. Your face sat a little too close to his at some points, almost daring him to kiss you. You were seductive, observant, and cutthroat.

That's how you ended up leading him to a private booth out the back with his guards long but forgotten at the original seating place. His hands gripped your hips as his disgusting lips found your neck while his bad breath pooled near your poor nose.

Your fingers tangle in his oily hair, keeping his head near you. He trailed before reaching your large necklace. His gross chapped lips kissed your gold pendant. His inner lip grazed the beautiful Aquamarine, Bucky's signature gemstone. His birth gem. But John obviously didn't take in that detail.

"You are the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He grumbles finely, pulling away to look at you with hooded eyes. Your stomach turned, but your smile never faltered. The urge to punch him was high, but you pushed your feelings aside as you placed your hand on his thigh with a slight tilt of your head.

"Aren't you a charmer." You giggled. "But talking isn't really my...thing."

His eyes widened, breath hitching in his chest as he bit his lip. "Well, well, what is your thing, hot stuff?"

You got up slowly, making sure his eyes never left your figure. You double-checked in your surroundings in the meantime, making sure you were still alone—which you were—, before seductively lifting your dress, letting him get a pervy view on your legs.

"My thing involves something more..." You placed your heeled foot right on the edge of his chair, letting the top of your foot rest onto his bugle, pressing down slightly, making him hiss. "...Firey."

You pulled out the small gun that was on your thigh holster, placing it perfectly in aim with John's gross forehead. His eyes widened, visibly gulping. Before he could protest his shock, a loud bang followed by gunfire was heard throughout the club.

If you timed this correctly, it was currently three-thirty in the morning, and you innocently tipped the manager of this club that a flush-out would take place and that everyone needed to be out of said club by at least three AM, leaving you alone with John and his bodyguards.

“W-what did you do?” John growled trying to stand up but the pressure on his stupid cock got firmer, making him silence his high-pitched whine in an instant. You showed no emotion, not a single expression to help him read you. He was completely at your mercy. And as if his heart couldn’t sink more into his throat, when he saw who walked through the curtained door frame made the beat in his chest stop.

“So this is where my darling ran off, too.” Bucky's deep rumble could make anyone melt, especially you. You could feel his gazing eyeing you, but not like how John did prior. It was filled with desire, possessiveness, and greed. His steps echoed in the silent door, making the cowardly male below you flinch. But you didn't falter, keeping your gaze on the man that caused so much annoyance in your life, pain in Bucky's life. A pest that you were more than willing to exterminate at the command of your lover.

“I knew, you’d look hot with a gun in your hand.” Bucky's voice whispered in your ear, biting your lobe slightly. You tried not to close your eyes and fall into your lover’s embrace, but his cologne was drawing you in like a siren to a pirate at sea. You might have been pissed off at him prior to coming here, but now all you wanted is him to hold you, treat you like the royalty he believes you are. “I see you caught me a rat.”

His feline smile painted his features, making John look anywhere other than the larger mob boss. You just hummed, tilting your head slightly before leaning more forward, putting more pressure on John's manhood. “Anything to get you to stop stressing.” Was the only thing you could follow with, suddenly feeling him grab your chin, turning your face to finally look at him.

His eyes were red, most likely from crying cause even though he was this big mafia leader, he was in touch with his emotions, even crying when you two watch sappy romance films. His hair was messy and not slicked back as he usually had it. He was messier, but in the eyes of anyone else, they would only see a terrifying cruel man with a stare that could kill. But you saw through that. The chaos in his mind. The stress and loneliness. He was most definitely freaked out about you missing prior to this ordeal. But this needed to be done, even though you feel a slight twang of guilt. “I did this all for you. I would do anything for you… My love.”

You meant every word, and Bucky knew it. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to punish you for disappearing and almost causing him a heart attack. His lips attached to your neck, inhaling your scent while he sucked a red mark on your skin. he didn’t know what he did to deserve such a seductive, slightly sadistic bitch such as yourself. God, he was madly in love sometimes he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Well, I think this calls for a game.” Bucky clicked his fingers, making two of his high-end bodyguards come in to ‘help’ with your friend. The large guards tied John up tightly to the chair, also covering his mouth with tape, letting you finally take your foot off his jewels. You lowered your gun, letting Buck wrap his hand over the top before latching his lips on yours, sinking you in for a deep, harsh kiss. He switched the safety on without even looking before playing the gun in his back pocket all the while his hands grasped your hips, drawing you near. You could feel his bugle against your tummy, moaning against his wet tongue before he pulled away;

“The game we are going to play is called ‘what you couldn't have’.” He turns to John, “You being yourself there, Walker.” His smile was sinister, eyes filling with filthy ideas. “You are going to watch me fuck the life out of my wife and then she gets to shoot you. Doesn’t that sound like fun.” He bit his bottom lip, eyes wide with excitement and craze. You inhaled sharply hearing his words. Feeling Bucky prop you up onto the bar table in the corner of the room but still in complete view of John.

Bucky got to quick work, pulling down the straps, letting your tits spring free, ripping the large necklace off with it as he snapped the straps of the gown. His lips latched on your left nipple while he pinched the other with his fingers, rolling the bud against his thumb. You moaned in a high-pitched tone, feeling electricity pool down your shiver. Your legs spread wider, making your dress ride up and Bucky slip in between. His hips ground against yours, gifting you a groan from him. “Mine.” He mumbles against your breasts. “All mine.”

John groaned, trying to move, but in toe only moved the chair slightly. This caught the attention of Bucky and yourself, making your lover stand up straight. “Now, now, John. Your time will come soon.” The mob boss didn’t even look over to the coward in the chair, just giving in a cold reminder that he was certainly going to die by the event's end. Bucky's hand cupped your soaking cunt making your eyes snap back to his. Biting your bottom lip, staring at him with hooded eyes, your eyebrows slowly knitted together as he pushed a finger and then a second soon after into your pussy. “Not wearing panties is very naughty baby, that’s another point added to punishment.”

You seemed to be racking up for a punishment later, most likely when you were in the comfort of your own bedroom. But for now, Bucky fucked your cunt with his metal fingers at such a harsh pace you couldn't hear the world around you as your ears rang and your moans bounced off the dark painted walls. “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck J-Jamess.”

He pulled out and slapped your pussy, hard. “Good girls don’t have dirty mouths, another point.” He mumbled giving your pussy another whack before he pushed his cold fingers inside you again. You cried, feeling yourself tip over before you could voice your plea, squirting all over the table and Bucky's fingers and arm, making his button-up, soaked in your juices.

“I-..mm I’m sorry.” You apologized for coming without his permission, but he didn’t seem to approve. Pulling you off the table, he turned you around, letting your dress fall completely off completely. You heard the zipper of his slacks feeling heat pour from your cunt. Swaying your ass side to side, you begged. “Please fuck me, sir, I’ll be good. I promise.”

His cock snapped into you without a second thought, pulling your top half up so your back was flushed against his chest. His mouth bit down on your shoulder causing you to scream in pain but his cock nestled so deep inside you made your head spin in pleasure. “Good? You think after you’ve been acting like a slut, throwing yourself on this loser and coming without my permission I’ll forgive you? My sweet dumb baby. Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that stupid airhead brain of yours.”

His words stung in the best way possible and if it was said by any other man you would have fought back. But Bucky made it sound too delectable. “I’ll be good, I promise.” You tried to beg again even though, you knew deep down it was useless.

“Promise?” He thrusted with his word. “Good?” He thrusted again. “The only thing you’re good for is being my sweet little cock sleeve while I fucked you full.” He cupped your face squeezing your cheeks together so you could look at him. “That I promise.”

He let you go, making you fall onto the table. Your hands gripped the oak wood as you felt every harsh thrust that Bucky did. His balls hit your clit in the right movement. Everything was overwhelming but perfect at the same time. You needed to come again, needed him to come. “Bucky please I need..I need your come.”

His dark chuckle sent shivers down your spine, making you look over your shoulder, but before you could make eye contact with your lover, your eyes locked onto John. He had plea in his features, silently begging to be let free. And as you cast your gaze down, you noticed his aching bulge threw his pants. Pig, you thought. Buckg noticed as well, suddenly pulling out so he could swing you around placing you back on the table, his strong grip holding you in place as he entered your abused cunt again. “Want my come baby? Such a good baby, asking for her fill. Don’t worry darling I’ll give you what you want."

And with that, his thrusts got faster, even if that was possible. You felt so high from him that you were floating on a cloud, and no one other than San could touch you. “Jamie I—It’s okay baby, come for me,” He finished your sentence letting you tip over the edge, creaming deliciously on his cock while he squirted his hot seed deep inside you.

“Fuck, baby.” Bucky groaned seeing all his juices mixing with yours. He spat on your clit, making you moan as he rubbed his saliva in with your cum. Bucky always had to be messy, even when you were in public. Before you could say anything, a large cough caught your attention, and Bucky's. It was John, the tape around his mouth had blood spewing from all sides, and his eyes started to leak a red crimson. He was thrashing around, trying to escape whatever was him his body, but all he managed was to tip the chair on his side, making him let out a huff along with gargled coughs. And with a last shallow breath, he suddenly stopped dead….

“Whoops…” was all you said, making Buck snap his gaze quickly back to you. His face was painted with a ‘what the fuck’ expression. You almost completely forgot that the Gem on your necklace was laced with poison, and John "happened’’ to kiss it, ingesting the poison that was slowly activating. “Nat gave me a poisoned necklace..”

Bucky immediately knew what that meant, and he kinda thanked the Lord that the necklace got ripped off when he tore the dress off. “Impressive.” Was all he said, pushing himself forward slightly, feeling your overly sensitive cunt squeeze him. “Fuck, I could fuck you again if it wasn’t for the dead corpse behind us.”

“That hasn’t stopped you before.” You tilted your head while biting your bottom lip. He just grumbled moving in to bite your neck again;

“You are the death of me, darling.”

#1-800-jjbarnes #marvel #jjbarnes #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan bucky barnes #james bucky barnes x reader #james barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #mob!bucky #mob bucky fluff #mob bucky #mafia!bucky #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #mcu kinktober #mcu fanfiction #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x y/n

[ramp-it-up]

Try a Little Tenderness

Paring: Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 3.7 K

Summary: Steve can’t win you with presents. He’s got to try a little tenderness.

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, Lil bit of ANGST. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Pining, flirting, organized crime, implied ice skating, teasing, former jerky boyfiend, inexperienced reader, nipple play, oral (both receiving) p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) breeding kink, size kink, crying during sex, violence (due to mob world).

A/N: This is for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask.

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

“Good morning, Steve!”

You were stocking onions, but you looked up and smiled as the tall blond entered the store, setting off the bell. He was well built and handsome and wearing a fine wool coat with a red scarf. It was a cool December, but New York had not yet had its first big snowfall.

“Mornin’, Ambrosia,” came his gruff response. 

You kind of liked his early morning voice. And the nickname. The first time he came in, he’d picked up an apple, already biting into it but also already paying. He handed you a twenty and said, “Mmmmm, Name?”, pointing to you with the apple. Flustered, you replied with the name of the apple instead of your name and the rest was history. 

This morning, Steve smiled at you and his blue eyes were sparkling. They always sparkled when he looked at you. He seemed very sweet.

“The usual.”

You laughed and went behind the counter to wash your hands.

“Of course, already had the fixin’s set up for you.”

You started the water for the espresso and got out the fresh everything bagels you’d put aside for him. Steve was one of your best customers, coming in every morning, and several evenings. He’d been coming in for about four months now.

Steve settled at the counter and watched you prepare his food. He looked at his watch: 7:42 am. He knew you'd been at work almost two hours now and that you were working very hard. One of your braids had come undone from your bun, and he wanted to put it back, but he didn’t touch you. You wore no makeup, yet your skin always glowed, and when you looked up at him, his heart nearly stopped. 

You were naturally beautiful. And your apron did not hide your curves. Or the fact that you were wearing the same pants that you’d worn three days ago. Steve figured that you didn’t have many clothes. He had the urge to take you shopping on Madison Avenue and let you go crazy. But somehow he knew you would never blow a load of cash on clothing. And that’s part of why he was so far gone on you.

He watched you battle your espresso machine with bemusement.

“Why haven’t you set up your new machine yet?”

You stopped and put your hands on your hips, looking so cute that Steve restrained himself from jumping over the counter.

“Is that from you?” You shook your head. “I suspected it.” 

Steve had unexpectedly given you many gifts, the espresso machine, a cash register. He’d even tried to have a new walk in cooler installed. You refused and sent back everything he’d sent. It wasn’t right. He barely knew you. 

You wondered what he did for a living, always dressed in the finest and able to afford multiple thousand dollar gifts. You figured that he was one of those Angel investors. Well, he wasn’t very good at being anonymous.

You watched as Steve gave you a lopsided grin, then leaned over the counter toward him. 

“Listen. Steve. Mr. Rogers.” 

You looked from his eyes, to his perfect lips, to his golden St. Christopher’s medal. He smelled so damn good. You bit your lip and Steve smiled, warmed by your proximity. This was his chance.

“Yeah, Ambrosia?”

“I’m not taking your gifts.”

You straightened up abruptly, handed him his drinks and finished his order. You gave him two folded newspapers.

“One Daily News for your friend and one News Day for you.” 

“Have you thought about it yet?”

You raised your eyebrow at him.

“About what?”

You thought he was finally going to ask you on a date. You knew the main reason he came in was to check you out. But you weren’t about to be bought.

“About the possibility of getting The Times in here? Alright, the Sunday Times at least.”

“Sorry Steve, it doesn’t sell. If it doesn’t sell, I don’t order. Can’t afford a non starter. But I do subscribe to the Sunday Times myself for the crossword. You can borrow mine any time.”

You winked at him. Something about Steve brought out your inner flirt.

Steve wanted to say something about sharing the Sunday Times in bed, but he thought better of it. Any other girl, and he would have been able to spit all kinds of game. But with you, he was tongue tied.

Steve sipped his coffee and shook his head as you gave him his bag.

“You are the most stubborn person I have ever met.”

You waved at him as he stood up.

“Have a great day!”

Steve chuckled at your dismissal as he walked out of the door. Bucky was waiting by the car. Steve handed him his cup and sandwich. 

“Send Sam to pick up the espresso machine.”

“Still a tough nut, eh?”

“Yeah. She’s still refusing gifts…”

Steve got in the passenger seat while Bucky sat behind the wheel.

“Instead of giving her all of this expensive shit, why don’t you just be nice to her?Ask her out ice skating or something.”

Steve scoffed. He didn’t know how to ask a girl out anymore. He felt like that scrawny kid running around with Bucky back in the day. Now, women were always clawing at each other to get to him. And they always wanted something. 

Steve didn’t respond to Bucky, just asked about his calendar.

“What’s on the agenda for today, Buck?”

“We gotta meet with the truckers today. They don’t want to bend to our terms.” Steve put on his sunglasses. 

“We know what to do to make ‘em bend, don't we Buck?”

“Sure do, buddy.” 

You were in your walk up apartment above the store halfway listening to the 10 o’clock news. They were doing a story about an explosion at the Eatern Tri-State Trucking hub in Bay Ridge as you put your body oil on after your shower. The reporter indicated that authorities thought that the Valkyrie crime organization was behind it. You were zoning out looking forward to the next day.

You were glad that Janie and Nate would be back at work tomorrow. Nate had just taken a week off, and Janie had recovered from the flu.  You were going to take the next afternoon off. You could have taken the entire day, but you wanted to open up for some reason.

Running an organic bodega in Brooklyn was a tough job, but the business was growing, but it was even tougher when your help was not there. You deserved a bit of a break.

The next morning, you were humming an Otis Redding song when Steve came in. You looked over your shoulder and caught him looking at your ass.

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers.”

“Mornin’ Ambrosia.”

“The usual?”

Steve wanted to say no, I want to ask you to marry me, but that might be a little too forward.

“Yeah.”

He sat down at the counter and noticed that you had on something brand new. When you turned around, he gestured to your outfit.

“What’s the occasion?”

You looked down and then grinned. 

“This outfit is my Christmas present to myself. I’m taking the afternoon off and I’m going into the city to go to the Central Public Library.”

Steve tried to respect your glee. But he had to do it.

“How thrilling.”

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch, “ you quipped.

Steve laughed at you. He thought about what Bucky said the day before.

“Grinch hunh. Well, would a Grinch offer to take you ice skating instead?”

You turned around and leaned on the counter. Steve leaned toward you.

“I don’t know. Are you offering, Mr. Grinch?”

You loved teasing him. Steve groaned.

“C’mon. I’m trying here. Ambrosia. Do you want to go ice skating with me in the city this afternoon? And to dinner afterward.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

Steve was very close to you now, staring at your lips.

“Yes.”

You stood up and put your hands on your hips.

“It’s about time. Sure!”

Steve laughed at how easy it was. You shoved his order into his hands.

“Pick me up at 1.”

Steve was grinning like an idiot out at the car, and didn't know how he got there.

“So you finally asked her out, hunh?”

Steve snapped out of it as he got in the passenger seat.

“Move the talks up to 10. I’m taking the afternoon off.”

“Rumlow is stalling. I can handle it this evening.”

“You sure?”

Bucky looked at his best friend.

“Sure as shootin’.”

You and Steve had a great afternoon, and Steve thought that ice skating was genius. He had to thank Bucky. You had to hold hands to stay steady, and when he pulled you in close, you didn’t pull back so you could stay warm. He didn’t know that you were thinking the same things.

Steve got to treat you to Via Carota and you two walked right in. The food was great, the wine was amazing, and you even stole a kiss in your corner booth. The night was perfect.

He drove you back to your place and you sat in the car for a minute. He’d been a perfect gentleman, and you were the one to make the first move with the kiss. You looked at him quizzicaly.

“Can I ask you something, Steve?”

“Yes, Ambrosia, anything.”

“After today, this afternoon and tonight. Do you still like me?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course. Why do you ask?”

You looked down. 

“Well, you’ve been such a gentleman. I see how you look at me, all hungry all the time. And the gifts. I don’t know. I just thought you’d be. You know. More…”

“Aggressive?” Steve responded.

“Well. yeah. I just thought.”

You looked back up and saw that Steve’s eyes had darkened.

“I am not a gentle man in my everyday life, Ambrosia. And I know that I can come on strong. But you make me want to be tender with you. I want to cherish you.”

“Oh.”

And Steve pulled you in for a sweet, but sexy kiss.

“So, yes, I still like you. And I have very aggressive thoughts about you. Want to ruin you in fact. But I want to do it carefully. Make you feel it. And make you glad you did.”

“Oh. No one has ever…damn, Steve.”

He recognized that you had been hurt.

“Here’s an aggressive question. What kind of an asshole would make you feel that way about yourself? His name is all I need.”

You laughed.

“Do you want to come up for the answer?” You cocked your head at him as he chuckled and nodded.

“Yes.”

When you got up to your place, you were settled with a glass of wine on your couch.

“I’m not going to give you his name, but I will tell you that we were together for a few months, and we only did it a few times. He’s the only one I’ve ever been with.”

The way you looked as him made Steve’s heart soft, but other things hard.

“It…It didn’t feel good. He said I was frigid and too small. I… I went to the doctor and everything. She said I was fine physically. So I figured it must have been in my mind and I haven’t been able to get out of my head after that. He broke it off and then I just decided to focus on work.”

You peered at Steve to see his reaction.

Steve’s eyes flashed with anger, then cooled.

“That joker is a fucking idiot.” 

His eyes traced your body.

“He didn’t know what to do with all this?”

Steve reached for you and kissed you, this time with undeniable passion. You broke away and stood up, offering him your hand.

“Show me, Steve.”

He stood up and followed you to your bedroom.

You stood at the foot of the bed and reached up to kiss Steve, and he picked you up and sat down, sitting you down with both of your legs over his. You made out like this, Steve’s hands still in neutral places until you whined and scooted closer to him.

Then, he went under your sweater, finding your nipple in your bra and brushing it with his thumb. He was exhibiting intense will power, but he couldn’t hold it all back as you responded to his passionate kisses.

Steve lifted your sweater off and your tank top, which was underneath, with it. Your bra contained your breasts, but your nipples were erect and straining against the material. He brought your body towards his for a kiss, his thick fingers pressing and playing with your sensitive buttons. He had you squirming on his lap as he reached around and expertly unfastened your bra.

He looked down at you and then back up, eyes hungry. You’d been yearning for that look.

“I’m gonna cherish this moment, get you ready for me, Baby. You’re gonna feel so good.”

He was weighing and kneading your breast and tenderly flicking your nipple, then he leaned down and kissed you, moving down your neck and collarbone, descending your chest and kissing all around your areolas, teasing your stiff nipples.

He had you moaning and writhing, wanting some friction for your cunt.

“Patience, Baby. You’re gonna get everything you deserve. Including this.”

Steve moved your hand to the hard member in his pants, which you tried to grip in vain through his slacks. You whimpered in frustration.

“I know. I know. I want to do so many things with you.” 

Steve’s fingers were in your leggings, through our panties and tracing your wet pussy lips gently as he finally started sucking your nipples. You pulled his hair wantonly as he teased you.

“Mmmmm. Who’s got you all wet, Ambrosia?” he asked, as he pulled his fingers out and put them in his mouth.

“Y-you, Steve… unhhhhh.”

The sight of him relishing your taste made you even wetter. And he found out, because his hand was right back down your pants. 

His lips were at your ear and he was breathing hard.

“Can I…”

His thick finger parted your lips and the rough pads of two fingers slid over your clit into your wetness. You arched your back in anticipation.

“...Can I eat you out, my sweet Ambrosia?”

His voice and the request sent you on a tailspin. You nodded vigorously as Steve pulled his hand out to your whine of desperation at the loss of contact.

You quickly stood up as Steve captured your hips to stand still in front of him. His eyes raked up and down your form as he took hold of the waistband of your pants, and slowly pulled them and your panties down your legs. You stepped out of them and Steve’s hands ran back up your form as you looked down at him. He grabbed the backs of your thighs as he pulled you near him.

Steve put one knee over his shoulder and stared at your most intimate part. 

“She’s a sweet little flower. So pretty and tight.”

His fingers were parting your folds so he could see even more.

“But she will be ready for my thick cock, I know she will, Ambrosia.”

He pulled you forward and held you up as he licked through you, almost causing a near stroke as far as you could tell. 

“Mmmmmm,” Steve’s eyes rolled back into his head.  “You are so sweet. I could eat you all night.”

You almost cried as he dove back in, grabbing his hair for purchase. He grabbed your bottom and stood to place you on the bed. He kneeled on the floor and held you down and open with his huge hands.

Steve started his feast, gently licking at first, then made you build to a crescendo as he started tongue fucking you. He made sure to stimulate your nipples, and when he felt your hard little nub vibrate, he sucked your clit hard as you came.

“Was that good?”

“Oh my stars, that was good.”

You both laughed.

“You’re so fucking cute, Ambrosia, but there’s levels to this.”

You sat up and watched as  he took off his shirt. You were sure that your eyes were sparkling now.

“It’s just going to get better and better.”

He was just clad in his black boxer briefs, a huge bulge leading the charge. He reached in and you were certain that he was going to pull out an entire pack of socks, but instead, he showed you the largest, thickest dick you’d ever seen. Your eyes were like saucers. You were a little afraid, but your legs fell open out of reflex. 

“See what you do to me?”

You bit your lip and nodded, reaching out and touching it tentatively.

“I’ve never seen one that big.”

You looked up at him and his heart melted simultaneously as his cock jumped. Your trembling fingers around him made him almost bathe your hand in his spend.

“Oh, Baby.. So sweet.”

“You are too, Steve. I want to taste you.”

You looked up at him through your lashes and Steve groaned, trembling with the effort to hold back.

“Christ… I’m…I…. Whatever you want, Baby.”

You stared at his cock for what seemed like forever. Then, you tentatively reached out and kitten licked his tip, causing him to groan as he palmed the back of your head.

“You’re killing me here, Ambrosia.”

“Hmmm.” You smiled. “Lay down for me, Steve.”

He did as he was told and put his arm behind his head to watch you. The way his muscles bulged inspired you anew. He reached down and roamed his fingers over your body as you hovered over him. You stroked him a couple of times and then played with his balls, Steve putty in your hands.

“B-babyyyy.”

You smiled in triumph that you had him whining as you spread your lips over the thick mushroom cap and sucked it into your mouth vigorously, causing him to moan and buck his hips up. You took the cue and drew him into your mouth, making him hit the back of your throat and gag.

“Holyyyyyy sssssshit. Stop. StopStopStopStop.”

Steve pulled you off his dick, which made you release him with a plop. He sat up and stared at you, disbelief in his eyes. 

“Did I do it wrong?”

“Did you do it wrong. Fuck, you almost made me…. C’mere.”

You giggled as you ended up with your back on the bed again, Steve eating you out, this time one finger inside you as you came. You were in shambles as he looked up at you and inserted another finger inside as his opposite thumb stroked your still-quivering clit.

“Gotta get you up to three. Hold on.”

You did, and when he crooked his fingers this time, you let out a wail that caused dogs to bark down the street.

After your fourth orgasm, Steve looked up, smiling ear to ear.

“Still want this dick?”

You scowled at him.

“If you don’t…”

He laughed as he kneeled between your legs, stroking the magnificent beast. You opened your legs even wider and stared down at it.

“No. look at me, look at me. You’re ready. I got you Baby.”

Steve supported himself with one arm as he got nearer to you and started swiping his head between your folds. You keened as he entered you.

“Ow. Steveeeee.”

Your face looked so adorable as you struggled to take him.

“Holy shit, you’re, fuck you’re so….”

Steve kissed you through your moan of shock and pleasure as he slid all the way home. You gripped his bicep, your fingernails leaving marks. Steve pecked your lips as you pounded together, waiting for you to get used to him.

“You ok? You good?”

Steve checked to make sure you were okay. You nodded at him with tears in your eyes.

“I- I- think it feels good. You’re so big, Steveee. But.. but I like it….”

You started moving, a little at first, and then more wantonly. Steve looked down to where you were impaled upon his dick.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You are perfect. Just so.. Fucking… tiny…. But made for me…Shit.”

You felt Steve’s cock jumping inside you when he said those words, and you clasped your hands behind his back and uttered, “More!”

And that’s when you began to get fucked. Tenderly yet filthily. It was the best Steve had ever had, trying to be gentle and knowing that he wanted to put the bed under the ground. It was such a turn on. The ragged moans that you gave him with each stroke was a gift from god, and he started cumming before he could think.

“Shit! I didn’t use a condom…Fuck. But why does that just motivate me to keep going?” 

Steve laughed into your ear as he kept stroking for dear life. He was usually so careful, knowing that most women wanted his kid. But with you he didn’t care. You wrapped your legs around him, taking the pounding he was giving you now.

“Hmmmmmm. You want me to put a baby inside you? Pump you so full of cum that you get all round and full with my seed?”

“Hnnnnghhh. Steve… I…”

“Tell me. Do you want it? You want me to get you pregnant?”

“Ohhhh shitttttttt! Steeeveeeeee!”

You detonated around him and Steve cursed, finally pulling out and jacking hard onto your stomach as three fingers on the other hand continued to fuck you through your orgasm. His pearly spend looked beautiful on your skin.

“So gorgeous. There’s time for that yet, but we gotta get you to a doctor, because I don’t want to do this too many more times. And fucking you with condoms is no longer an option.”

You were fucked out, absentmindedly playing in his cum, causing him to spurt one last rope onto your fingers. When you brought them to your mouth was when he shivered. He collapsed beside you.

“I can’t even explain how good that was.”

You just smiled at him, lips shiny with gloss that he made.

“You are an angel. A Christmas angel.”

Steve sighed as you smiled at him. He got up and went to your bathroom to clean up and get a warm towel.

“I’m hungry.”

“Anything you want, Babe. I’ll get it for you.”

You grabbed the remote and  turned on the tv, catching the tail end of the news.

“Shootout in DUMBO tonight between the Rumlow and Valkyrie crime organizations. Several high-ranking officers dead or injured, including Brock Rumlow and James Bucky Barnes. More news when we have it.”

“Steve? Bucky? What’s going on? Valkyrie?”

Steve was up and grabbing for his clothes, an inscrutable look on his face.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this, but I gotta go.” 

He gave you a quick kiss. 

“Don’t leave. Sam will come back with some food for you and he will stay with you. Don’t open the store tomorrow.”

“But Steve!”

“No buts! I will call.”

And then Steve disappeared into the night, leaving you with so many questions.

Knock that reblog button off the block fa me. 😉

Read part two, All I Want.

#dj’salliwant4kchristmas22 #Steve Rogers #mob boss steve rogers #mob boss!steve #chris evans #chris evans imagine #steve rogers smut #Steve Rogers x reader #steve rogers x black reader #chris evans smut #bucky barnes

[gaysindistress]

No one asked for this butttt here's a little fake dating drabble I wrote for @bucks-and-noble's Valentrope fest.

Part two

bucky's masterlist | main masterlist

“I hate you.”

“It’ll pass.”

“No I actually hate you.”

Bucky sighs as he slumps into the hard chair he keeps saying he’s going to get rid of. A glass of whiskey dangles from his hand that is draped over the chair’s arm.

“You don’t hate me, doll. I don’t think you even have it in you to hate me or anyone for that matter.”

From my spot curled up in the chair opposite of him, I glower at him. I’m trying to get him to agree to the half baked plan I came up with trying to sleep last night but he’s not budging. All I need him to do is pretend to be my boyfriend for a wedding this weekend. I already have the backstory for us figured out and I even came up with a few ways for us to break up. All he needs to do is sit pretty, remember our story, and pretend to be in love with me.

“Don’t ‘doll’ me, Barnes. I could not hate you more than I do right now.” I try to sound serious but it’s like a toddler trying to say hospital; it doesn’t sound right no matter how many times I try.

He takes a sip of his drink, eyeing me as the nasty liquid slips past his lips and down his throat. I’ve never understood how he can drink something that tastes so awful and burns going down.

“What about Sam? I can pay him to do it.”

Groaning, I throw my head back and squeeze my eyes shut.

“No Bucky. It has to be you. Sam’s great but I-kind-of-already-told-everyone-about-you.” The last part is incredibly rushed and I really hope that he didn’t hear it.

My hopes are crushed though. He coughs and chocks on his whiskey.

“I’m sorry. You did what now?” He rasps out in a scratchy voice.

“Dont make me say it again.”

I hear him get up and softly approach me. His shoes make almost no sound as he walks across the Persian rug he let me pick out last year. He told me his office needed updating and handed me his black card. Obviously I had to buy everything that I wanted so that when he wanted to update again, I could take it all home.

Bucky crouches in front of me and puts his hands on my knees. My head lolls forward and I stare down at him with puppy dog eyes. It’s not going to work but it’s worth a shot.

“No, no doll put those away.” He whispers to me with a light squeeze to my knees, “now tell me what you did again.”

“I already told everyone about you.”

“And who is everyone?”

“Buckyyyy,” I whine and try to pull my legs away but he holds them in place. “Please don’t be mean right now.”

He chuckles at my manipulation. Shaking his head, he stands up and leans over me, placing a hand on either side of my chair. His cologne is faint after his long day but I can still smell hints of its vanilla and tobacco notes.

“If you want me to play your boyfriend then you’ll have to toughen up. I can’t have my girl,” he murmurs as he brushes those plump lips against my cheekbone, “crying the second I tell her no.”

My heart stutters when he starts to trail light kisses from my cheek to the corner of my lips. Like a true tease, he skips over to the other corner and then kisses the tip of my nose.

“Can you do that for me?”

“Are you going to come with me?” I shoot back.

Bucky smirks against my lips. “Of course I am, doll.”

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #mob au #mob!bucky barnes imagine #mob!au #marvel fanfiction #mob!bucky #mob bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky au #fake dating au

[grugruel]

Movement

Pairings: mob!bucky x undercover!f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: Working undercover wasn't what you had expected. Dancing at events was, privately entertaining the boss wasn't. Your story climaxes tonight, leaving Bucky cuffed to a bed and you bent over a windowsill.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: pinv sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, voyeurism ish?, choking, edging, creampie, thigh-riding ish, fingering.

AN: Not edited yet! Got a dirty dancing vibe from nowhere, so I ran with it. Yall will notice. Please do comment your thoughts! It really motivates me :)

I look around me, gaze drifting over the crowd. My eyes meeting a particular set, catching him staring. I turn my head away, and all of a sudden. Everything, was for him.

Every move, every sway, every sweep of my arms and rock of my hips. I did to his liking, for his approval.

The music blurred around me, so lost in the moment. . .

A soft purple light shone down upon me, giving everything an intimate glow. Illuminating my body and making my long dark dress sparkle, while casting shadows around me. Bulging and dipping, the candlelit chandelier had the darkness join me in dance. So private, yet so open. The hundreds of people slowly whirling over the dancefloor disappeared from my mind, and in its stead, only he was left. My eyes locked with his as a slim path cleared between us, the bodies of couples molding to eachother incidentally moved out of the way.

I smiled, daring him. Curling my finger, motioning for him to join me. Like a bird of paradise, I moved to impress. I moved with the rhythm of the music, brushing my knuckles over my abdomen, trailing all the way up along my torso, over the tip of my breasts and dip of my neck. My fingers messily burrying themselves in my hair, running along my scalp, hair matching the movement of my body.

Hungry eyes devouvered me, but his was the only ones I cared for. Transfixed, he moved forward, pushing people out of the way. Shouldering them to the side as he walked toward the stage, toward me. Theres was no time for curtesy, no time for clients or associates stopping to shake his hand. He waved them away, eyes never leaving me.

This had been our routine since he hired me a few months back, and unfortunately. I'd lie if I said I didn't like it, it had become personal. Even though I told myself it was just for the mission.

But this was not a game I'd let him win. Stepping off of the stage, I dove into the masses. Blending in, and dissapearing.

I, along with some other girls were the entertainment for the night. A ball James hosted every year, in attendance was only the richest and dirtiest.

Static crackled on my ear, 'Back-up on standby. .' The voice spoke as I walked toward the bar.

I was about to answer, when somebody grabbed me–

A yelp esacped me as a hand enveloped my bicep. Gripping it tightly, immidietly pulling me backward. I didnt have to look to know who it was. He'd caught me, but I couldn't avoid those beautiful blues. My eyes meet with the familiarity, they smile, and I mimic.

'Just say the word. . .' The voice came stressed, their eyes on the unfolding scene.

But I carefully raised my shoulder to my ear, playing it off as a scratch, and turned the device off. In the same moment, the music swithces from classical to something more intimate, and the room heats. Couples move from swaying together to moving against eachother, grinding smoothly to the body of the other.

With a smile, his hand slides from my bicep into my own and he pulls me back onto the grand, marbled dance floor. In a flurry of bodies, he yanks me against him. I collide with his chest and throw my arms around his shoulders in the motion. We match our movements to the others as his thigh slides between my legs, supporting me as I grind onto him. The slit in my dress exposing my thinly clothed core to his thick thigh, I bite my lip at the feeling.

Our acts disguised as nothing more than intimate dance.

The music thumps lowly, the vibrations caressing my skin deliciously as he ruts his hips against my own. My hands intertwine behind his neck and our faces come an inch apart, our heavy breaths symphonising with eachother. 'Missed you. . .' He murmurs against me.

I hum, biting my lip as a smile tugs on the corner of my mouth, 'Prove it to me, James.' And a particularly good grind treats me well, making a whimper leave me.

He grunts, capturing my bottom lip in a bite, gently tugging on it.Then speaks through clenched teeth, 'It'd be my pleasure doll.' And grabs my hand again, pulling me into the massive halls of his manor.

A few minuters later, after following dimly lit, large wood paneled walls, we arrive at his room. Like so may times before, his guards stop by the door, standing by.

Kissing we stumbled inside, the guards didnt even bat an eye, so used to this by now. The music from the ballroom dampened as the door slammed shut behind us and Buckys dark, big bedroom welcomed us. His hand glide from my hand to my waist, holding me as he backed up toward the bed. Falling back, he circled his arms around my back. Pulling me closer, he rested his chin against my abdomen, never taking his eyes from mine, big and wanting. He kissed me up my stumache to center of my chest, I sighed happily as my knuckles caressed his cheek. Eventually coming to rest in his hair, combing through it gently. Appreciatively, he hummed, kissing me more. I leaned down, met his lips– and pushed him backward.

With a swift thud and the sound of springing feathers, he hit the mattress, his body shifting back and up against the headboard. Prowling, I crawled on top of him. Stradeling his lap, I unbuttoned his blazer and shirt while sitting on his hard member. I took his hands in mine and led them to the headboard. Meanwhile, I leaned into him, my lips brushing over his. A millisecond before they met, my hands slid to his wrists and–

Doubble "Click"s sounded out.

Opening his eyes, 'Tell me this is a part of it.' He whispered against my lips, the slightest growl to the voice. I shook my head, and sat back on his lap before he lunged for me. But as predicted- he didnt get far. Hands locked in cuffs around two bars of his headboard. I laughed, 'I could lie, but it wouldn't be the first time.' And rocked my hips against his clothed member, humming from the friction his pants and my dress created. He hissed, eyes boring into mine, filled with a burning hatred as his breathing turned heavy, burdened with a long-standing lust.

Sighing mournfully, 'We could continue this thing of ours you know, still have some fun.' I hummed, taking his chin between my fingers to look at him. But he jerked his face from my grup, hands straining against the cuffs, rattling them, then lunged forward again.

I pulled back, 'Ooh-' and mocked, pretence fear lining my body language as I crawled backward and slipped to my feet at the foot of the bed. 'I can still take care of that for ya'.' I nodded toward his erection, a huge hill bulging in his pants.

He huffed and looked away.

I cocked an eyebrow and turned around, walking toward his desk, 'You underestimate me James, I've had you fooled for a long time.'

Chuckling, he answered 'Fooled? I've had you on your knees for just as long, doll.' He worked the cuffs, testing the strength of the bars.

Annoyance bubbled up inside me, 'And what about all the times you've begged me for a taste? Its laughable.'

'Yeah?' He laughed, 'And you begging me to fuck you isnt?'

My cheeks burned hot, needles of irritation pricking my skin. When I got an idea, something to. . . Give back, or get back. Whichever. 'We both knew this wouldnt last.' I said curtly, walking around his desk, riffling through it.

He nodded slowly, 'Didn't think you'd have the stumache to turn me in, still think you don't.'

I huffed, 'Yeah?' Pulling out a particular set of documents, the ones I needed to put him in his place, and held them up for him to see.

'Yeah.' His eyes narrowed on the papers.

I browsed through it, then met his eyes with a smirk, 'Fascinating.' I jerked my eyebrows upward in challenge.

'You wouldnt.'

'I would.' And nudged my earpiece again, 'I got them.'

He shook his head, dissapointment ruining his beautiful features. It stung, It really did. I didn't want to hurt him. Fuck, I really did care for him.

Static, 'Copy, extraction team will meet you at the edge of the property.' At that I turned it off again, everything wasn't for them to hear.

I walked up to him, his gaze followed my every step. Although mad, he didnt want to forget me. Furiously, he studied my curves, intent on not forgetting.

'How come you've not called your guards?' I asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him, tracing a finger along his abs, observing the way his skin grew goosebumps.

'I wouldnt stoop that low.' He jabbed, the pain in my chest might as well have come from the tip of a knife, his knife.

I cleared my throat, 'Well. . . As I said–' my hand slipped downward, '–I could do you a kindness, and take care of this for you.' I whispered, cupping his bulge, 'Maybe set a start to my making up to you.'

'Fuck.' He groaned, bucking into my touch. Closing his eyes, he shook his head again.

'No?' I retracted my hand, my dress strap slipping as I did so. Revealing a tad more of my chest, his eyes opened, and stared. I quirked an eyebrow, and he met my eyes. Pleading. Silently, we understood eachother. We felt what we could not say because of who we were.

I smiled, working my shoulder to let the strap slip further. Revealing my breast, nipple turning hard from the cool air. He sighed, eyes turning soft with adoration. I stood and backed up, and he leaned forward to follow me. But cuffs yanked him back, resteaining him. A glint of annoyance sparked in his admiring eyes. At this, I smiled again. Wicked this time. I walked over to the desk, jumping up on it with a hop and crossing my legs.

'How often will you think back on our memories together?' I ask coyly, a finger trailing up my leg through the slit of my dress.

'More than I do now.' He answered, voice gruff. Pain and lust adorning it.

His response pleased me deeply, I uncrossed my legs and spread them wider. Wide enough to catch a glimpse of my lingerie. At the sight, he yanked the cuffs, desperation taking hold of him. His breathing turning heavy, his eyes on the prize. My fingers slide under the skirt of my dress, folding it over my other leg. Hands moving toward my core. He grunts, spurring me on. The sight of him making my core ache, cuffed, animalistic and depraved. For a second, I toyed with the thought of releasing him. Closing my eyes, I imagined the way he would make my body ache in all the ways it craved. I hummed as a finger reached my panties, sliding up and down my clothed slit. All the while Bucky huffed and puffed, only contributing to my illusions. His member was probably straining uncomfortably against his pants by now. I bit my lip, a finger slipping under the fabric, into my core. Instantly drenched in my juices, I heard a whimper, and opened my eyes.

On the bed infront of me, he'd managed to get onto his knees, arms extended behind him, held by the cuffs, keeping him from falling face first. His mouth agape, panting desperatley as he watched me.

I pushed another finger inside, then another. He bit his lip to muffle another whimper, licking them furiously.

Thrusting gently, I curled them into my special spot. Moaning, as his whimpers spurred me on. Pushing me over the edge in a few short moments, I hummed. Trying to stay relatively quiet.

'Gonna beg me for a taste again?' I asked, and he nodded enthusiastically, 'I could sit on your face for you.' And at that, his eyes filled with hope, but my wicked smile returned, letting him know he would't get that lucky.

I stood, dress falling back into place, breast still exposed. Sautering over to him, then got on my kneeson the bed infront of him. Holding my fingers out to him, slick with my arousal. Greedily, he took them into his mouth, lapping and sucking at every ounce of my juice, hungrily moaning all the while. I pulled my fingers back, and he whimpered at the loss. Seding pulses through my body, his eyes roamed over me as I kneeled infront of him, gaze landing on my breast, 'Can I? Please?' He asked, eyebrows furrowing. I nodded, and in a second his mouth closed around my breast, sucking it into his mouth. Humming, I sighed, enjoying it while it lasted. With one hand holding the folder, I ran the other through his hair, scratching his scalp, 'Such a good boy.' I whispered, and he moaned a hot breath against me, 'The great James Barnes, falling apart by a woman's–' I began, but suddenly, he bit my nipple, making me yelp and pull back.

'Youre not just any woman.' He said, a devilish quirk to his lips.

I sighed, but the lip of my corner tugged as I turned around. Pulling my strap up, I made my way toward the fogged up window and opened it. Cool, damp air flooded inside, chilling me pleasantly as I wathched the view overlooking the gardens.

Before I could make my escape, I turned around to look at him one last time. However, not liking what I was met with.

Pulling himself back, he wrapped his hands around the bars and yanked–

To my horror, one of the two came loose with a worrying clang, making him fall forward.

I'd teased him to much for my own good. 'James, lets just-' I began, and his eyes snapped to mine, then he began yanking on the other. Hunger melting together with anger in his features.

A chill ran down my spine as I threw one leg over the windowsill in a hurried motion, then the sound of a second clang rang out.

Terror grabbed hold of me as I threw my other leg over the sill and jumped–

Bit his hands grabbed my waist, lifting me back inside and pulling me to his chest. The warmth against my back contrasting the cool of my front, horror and excitement washed over me, anticipation leading.

One arm squeezed me as the other slid downward, then he leveled his head with mine, his nose nuzzling my temple, and lips gracing my cheekbone as he spoke, 'How about we make a new memory?' He breathed, I could hear the smile shaping his lips. The hand headed downward slipped through the slit of my dress and cupped my cunt, making a pained moan escape me.

He kissed my cheekbone and bit my earlobe, tugging on it slightly. Then put pressure on my mound with a harsh yank, pulling me even closer against him. A mix of a hiss and a whimper leave my lips as my ass tucks snuggly into his crotch, his hard member pressing up against me. His mouth slips to my neck, 'Your fault.' voice muffled by skin, 'You fix it.'

A shattered hum in agreement came from my lips as he began rubbing his hand up and down in rough movements, the warmth from the friction was enough to send pulses of heat through every nerve in my body. He walked us forward as his fingers coverd every inch of my cunt, teasing my core, digits sliding between my slits, and palm rubbing into my clit, his hand getting more and more slick by the second. As if locked in dance, our hips move together, matching rythms. I grind against his hand as he ruts his crotch against my ass, the very hard member recieving long anticipated friction.

We collpase as he slips to his knees, pulling me down with him.

Suddenly, two of his fingers slip inside of me, setting a quick thrusting pace. He sinks his teeth into my neck, biting and sucking, and a scream threaten me as the coil tightens in the pit of my stumache. His other hand move to my back and bends me over the windowsill.

I rest my forearms against the hard wood for support, and just as the blinding pleasure is about to unfold, his fingers retreat. Pulling out of me with a slick sound, I release a painful groan as my walls ache and clench around nothing. 'Fuck you.' I hiss, shutting my watering eyes tightly against the pain of his absence.

I heard movement behind me, then feel his hands pull my dress straps down, making my dress fall to the floor. His touch leaves me again, then I hear a zipper, Thats right.' He said, pulling my panties to the side, 'Fuck me.' And he rams his member into me. All air expells out of my body, my breath lost somewhere to the cool summer night. My fingers curl around the sill, gripling it tightly as the stinging, filling sensation settles in my bones.

He hums and leans over my back as he gathers my hair in one hand, and his mouth levels with my ear, 'You wont be walking out of here with those papers doll, In fact, I doubt you'll be walking at all.' He chuckles, and lays his cheek against mine, looking out through the window. 'So tell those men of yours that they'll have to carry you once the show is over.' And nods toward the edge of his property before leaning back.

I follow his gaze, and a slight movement catches my eye.

The back-up. . . No doubt watching the scene unfold.

But before I got to much time to ponder, his left hand grabbed my right hip, and his other hand gathered a fistful of my hair.

Then, he pulls. Yanking me upward so that my arms stretch, and my hands support me against the sill instead. My entire, naked body on full display to the outside. Asshole.

He begins thrusting, gruesome, hard thrusts. The hand fisting my hair let's go, and circles around my torso instead, folding over my chest, and grabbing the breast furthest away to knead and squeeze. Covering me up in the process.

Apparently, he didnt want them to see it all. Some was just for him.

He rests his forehead against my shoulder, planting sweet, soft kisses against the blade of it, 'Sorry.' He whispers, all the while his thrusts rock my body into oblivion. 'Needed to teach them a lesson.' He says between panting.

The coil began tightening once again, and I smile. Feeling this good, I honestly couldnt care less. Even so, my team had seen me naked before. We shower together, share rooms even, and they know im in it to win it. My only wish was that they'd have the decency to look away, but knowing they're men, It'd be too high a wish.

Nothing could be heard but the muffled music, slapping skin, laboring vocal cords, and the nature at night. Bird song and nocturnal insects filled the calm night, ever so rudely disturbed by our moaning, and– static?

Oh. . .

'Agent, I repeat– "Do you need extraction?"' The voice was uncertain, uncomfortable even.

Fuck, it must've clicked on when he yanked me by the hair. Embaressment filled me, they'd heard much more than they should've. But even so, irritation took the lead. Annoyed that they were interrupting me, I rolled my eyes, 'I'm fine, I'll be right there.' I stuttered out, doing my best to hide my moans. The slapping however, could not be hindered. I reached for my earpiece, the stuttering of his hips against my body gave me great difficulty. But managed to grab it despite being violently rocked back and forth, and threw it far into the gardens.

'Finally alone?' He breathed against me, warming my shoulder, temporarily keeping the goosebumps at bay.

'Define alone.' I scoffed, biting back a whimper. The pressure in me building to a climax, the sounds of nature and our loving dulled. Replaced by a ringing as my vision grows spotty and a faint feeling comes over me. 'Close, so– So, close.' I manage, my words stumbling out of me. He hums, moaning in my ear as his thrusts frenzies. The hand kneading my breast moves upward, grabbing my throat, squeezing lightly as we tumble into our orgasm. Collapsing onto the windowsill.

'Fuck. . .' He breathes, pulling out off me with a wet plop. His seed seaping out off my entrance now that nothing stood in its way. He rolled off of me and leaned against the sill, elbow supporting him as he observed me intently.

I pull my dress back on, then cross my arms on the sill, resting my chin upon them, 'What now?'

'You'll see me again.'

I huff, 'Yeah? How?'

He shrugs, 'Tell them we have a deal, or that I think were involved. Tell them your cover wasn't broken.'

'Think that'd work?' I ask, unconvinced. However, wishing desperately it would.

'It might, if it doesn't. You come right back here and start over with me. I'll protect you.'

I nod, 'Go to bed, so I at least can pretend to slip out.' And smile, believing him.

Not protesting, he kisses my cheek. 'Good night.' He whisperes.

I stay for a few more minutes, then grab my heels and jump out of the window. Closing it behind me. Silently, in the bright blue night, I walk barefoot in dew covered grass.

Eventually met by familiar voices, 'Not a word I say.' Interrupting them before they can comment, 'He thinks I want him.' I raise my brows and chuckle, the team snickers.

'Sure sounded like it.' One of them jokes, and they all abrupt into laughter.

I roll my eyes, 'Ha, ha. Very funny. Dont pretend you werent watching us half hard, palming yourself.' I bite back. Causing "oooohs" to abrupt, and the guy going pale.

At least they seem to believe it.

I gift myself a hopeful smile, I'll be seeing him again. One way or another.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #mob!bucky #mob!bucky smut #bucky imagine #bucky fanfiction

[buckyalpine]

Mob Bucky x virgin reader

18+

Mob Bucky x virgin reader 

If you’re wondering how bad my procrastination is, I started this in November. Anyway, I forgot to add some lines from a different fic here. There’s no plot here, literally just a scene I imagined. Please read the warnings. 

Warnings: dub con, degrading, virginity taking, innocence kink, mentions of blood, horny, feral Bucky is a warning, porn and little plot. Honestly, no plot. 

-

He knew he wanted you from the moment he saw you. Cute little sun dresses, beautiful eyes, your perfect lips, every single one of your delicate features making him crave to have you. He didn’t know what to do with himself the day he found out you were a virgin; you said it so quietly he would have missed it if you weren’t curled up on his lap. 

“My sweet innocent baby” He cooed, trying his best to contain his erection, desperate to fill you. “No ones ever touched you?” 

N-no” You shook your head keeping it buried against his neck while your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You were told to wait until marriage to do anything so you did exactly as you were told. It hadn't been a problem up until now, your heart rate beating faster, squeezing your thighs together to make that feeling go away. He was intoxicating; rough fingers tracing over your smooth skin, skimming up to the hem of your dress.

“I-I can’t” You shook your head when he nearly reached your panties, his hand coming to tilt your face up to meet his eyes. 

“Why not, darling”

“We’re-um-” You fumbled with your fingers, choking on your words "We’re not married” 

“Is that all baby?” Bucky chuckled, kissing your cheek, “You know it doesn’t count if I just touch you sweets, would that be okay?” 

You swallowed thickly, knowing it was a bad idea to give into his temptations, the words of your mother and father screaming at you to behave yourself, that were omitting a grave sin, giving into lust-

“O-okay” 

-

“It’ll be more comfortable this way, darling” He reassured you as he spread you out on his large bed, all your clothes torn off while he stripped the last of his boxers before crawling beside you. Your eyes flicked down to his thick length, your stomach clenching as it bobbed between his legs while he settled himself. 

“You can look baby, you don’t have to touch if you don’t want to” His husky voice sent shivers down your spine when he caught you struggling to look away, your eyes now fully trained on the way a stick liquid was beading from the tip of his cock. He gently parted your thighs, moving to kneel in between them, the pads of his fingers brushing over your clit making you squeak in surprise at the feeling. 

“Just your fingers?” You looked at him nervously with doe eyes as he gave you a wolfish grin. 

“Just my fingers love, you’re not doing anything wrong” He rubbed the side of your thigh comfortingly while he coated his fingers in your slick, pressing the middle one into your entrance. “Still such a good girl” 

You gasped at the gentle stretch, gripping onto the sheets when he slowly added another, pumping in and out of your pussy, groaning at the way your thighs parted further to give him better access. 

“Look at this little button” Bucky whispered, rubbing deliberate circles around your clit, watching the way you started to fall apart when he crooked his fingers, fingering you faster. Your moans were music to his ears, his other hand pulling your lip away from your teeth to keep you from silencing yourself. “C’mon, I know you feel it princess, you can cum pretty girl” 

“I-I’m gonna-Bucky-Please!-” The squelching sounds of your sopping cunt got louder as you came closer and closer to the edge, blinding pleasure finally pushing you off as you convulsed around his fingers. “Oh God!” 

“That’s it baby” Bucky slowed down, gently pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, smirking when you cracked your eyes open again, sweat making your skin glisten. He was still kneeling in front of you, precum dribbling down his shaft, his balls achingly full while you shyly peered up at him through your lashes.

He was gorgeous. 

Gorgeous enough you’d want to-

No. 

As if he could read your mind. Bucky took your hand in his, placing your palm on his cock, nearly growling at how soft you felt compared to his rough hand wen he touched himself. 

“You can touch baby, you’re still my good girl” Bucky’s voice was breathless as you hesitantly wrapped your hand around his velvety shaft, stroking his heavy cock. He kept his hand over yours, jerking himself into your fist while his eyes raked up and down your body. 

“Let me touch you darling” He nearly fell forward when your thumb swiped over his slit, “Just let me rub it on you baby, it doesn’t count sweets, you don’t have to worry” 

“Are-are you sure?”

“Of course baby” 

He promised again while you bit your li hesitation before giving him a shaky nod. Bucky groaned, slotting himself between you legs, pumping his cock before rubbing it between you folds, his swollen tip leaking all over your already soaked pussy. 

“So soft bunny” He growled, throbbing when his tip caught against your entrance before rubbing against your clit again, “Feels s’good” 

“Bucky” You moaned in his ear as he started to hump against your pussy, slotting his cock snugly between your folds, his cockhead bumping against your clit with each thrust. “Bucky please” 

You weren’t sure what you were begging for, the feeling of him slipping up and down against you between the grunts and groans he made each time made your belly clench, your eyes growing wide when he was pressed against your entrance again, 

“Bucky-Bucky we can’t-” You looked at him with frantic eyes, his heavy body now fully resting on top of you while he continued to tease his cock, softly pressing against you.  

“That’s not what you call me love, you know better” Bucky had tested the waters earlier, loving how flustered and shy you got when he insisted you call him by something else, making you even more needy for him. 

 “But-were not married daddy” You whimpered, feeling the blunt tip of his cock starting to press against your entrance while he hummed with approval. 

“I won’t move love, just-just let me put the tip in, alright? Just the tip darling” He barely waited for your permission, breaching your hole as soon as you nodded, the sharp sting making you cry out in pain. 

“DADDY!, DADDY s’too much!” You shook your head as he kept pushing in more, stretching as if he were trying to split you in half. 

“I won’t fuck you, just wanna feel it” He gasped as soon as he was fully sheathed in you, your tight walls choking his cock. “Oh fuck angel, you’re so tight, make room for my cock baby, c’mon, let daddy fuck you baby” 

“It’s too big, it hurts” You cried out, squirming and withering on the bed, your legs squeezing and tensing around him while he brought his hand to wipe your tears, pushing away the strange of hair that clung to your forehead. 

“But you feel so good love, you gonna let daddy take your virginity baby?” 

“I-but-we-”

Bucky cooed at your stammering while staying fully buried in your cunt, precum already leaking. He pulled his hips back before thrusting forward making you squeal, his eyes locked with your as he started to fuck you. 

“Stop daddy!” Your nails clawed at his back pleasure, pain, shame, guilt, lust, one too many emotions flowing through you as he moved faster, his muscles tensing, rippling down his body. “Slow down, please!” 

“But you’re making daddy feel so good baby” Bucky groaned, lost in his own world, feral over how tight you were, how you pleaded for him to slow down, his cock was too much for your tiny pussy to take. He loved the way you hiccupped and choked sobs, your greedy virgin cunt sucking him right back in each time he pulled out.  

He was sure he could smell the light scent of iron in the air, looking down at where the both of you were connected, his shaft covered in your creamy slick. Spots of red stained his white sheets, but that only seemed to spur him on more, growling and pounding you harder. 

“Oh sweet girl, did I stretch you too much?” 

“It-hurts” You whimpered, clinging onto him, biting down on his shoulder to keep from crying, you wanted to be so good for him but you could feel the pain radiating through your body, shame melting into pleasure as he drove his cock in deeper. He could feel his length swell, his balls starting to pull tight against his body when you bit down harder, the pain making him throb. 

“Gonna let daddy put his seed in you princess? Hmm? We’re not even married darling, are you gonna let my cock bust in you?” It was so wrong, all of it was so wrong but you were too far gone, too deep, your foggy brain caving, giving into everything you’d always wanted. 

“Yes daddy yes!” Your thighs trembled, squeezing tightly around his waist as the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbed against your clit. Spots clouded around your vision as you clenched around his cock making it hard for him to move, your second orgasm ready to wash over you. 

“That’s a good slut, taking all of her daddy’s dick and letting him making a mess in her” He let out a dark chuckle as his hand came up to wrap around your throat, softly squeezing the sides. 

“M’m-not a slut” Your whimper turned into a guttural moan as he pounded you with everything he had, the bed shaking, his balls slapping your ass. “Ah-AHh fuck!!” 

“Oh but you are baby, all naked and spread out on my bed, fuck princess, m’gonna give it to you so hard, m’gonna cum so fucking hard, shit-FUCCKK” Bucky roared, as bursts of cum streamed out of his cock, the feeling of his seed making you feel warm inside. “You’re milking my cock you slut, gonna milk my fuckin’ dry the way you’re choking me, go on and milk me sweets, take it all” 

You cried out as you came around his cock, emptying him for all he was worth. He wrapped his arms around you, keeping himself warm while you nearly passed out from pleasure, shuddering in his hold. He smirked at your fucked out state, pushing his hips up making you whimper, cuddling into his chest. 

“Rest darling, daddy isn’t finish yet”  

#dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark bucky #dark bucky x you #dark bucky smut #dark mob bucky #dark mob bucky x y/n #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky smut #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x virgin reader #bucky barnes dark fic #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes dark #dark smut #bucky barnes dark smut #james bucky barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes

[marvellous1917]

Icarus Falling

(Part 2)

Pairing: mob!Bucky x female!tattoo artist!reader

Summary: It’s gonna be a busy day. Giving a tattoo to a mobster that broke into your home was nothing compared to the fact that you can’t stop thing about how fucking hot he is.

Warnings: lots and lots of swearing, mention of crime (duh), fights, broken bones, tattoo needles, threats, think that’s it.

Part one ⬇️:

A/N: AAHHHH the response to part one was actually insane!!!! I hope this second part is good enough. Love u all <3

———————

Bold is reader’s thoughts.

Italics is Bucky’s thoughts.

The size of the tattoo is in inches.

———————

Walking to the shop, your thoughts were running a mile a minute. Holy fuck, what the fuck, did last night actually happen?, James Barnes is gorgeous and made falling asleep last night really fucking difficult, screw him for making me all hot and bothered. Asshole. But one persistent one came screaming to the front- how the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank?

Unfortunately there was not a lot of time to come up with an answer to that, the shopfront coming into view as you turn the corner. Jigsaw Ink stood proud in the middle of the busy Brooklyn street, the black paint of the walls in stark contrast to the pastel pink of the florists’ to one side and the baby blue of the cafe the other.

The shop was a second home to you, the couch at the front becoming a bed for you sometimes after a night out, or if Caleb was being an ass. Frank was nice enough to let you crash when you needed, trusting you with his business. Frank, and the other two artists at the shop, Billy and Curtis were like family - a weird combination of protective older brothers and best friends who were terribly bad influences on you.

The bell on the door rang when you opened it and there was a yelled “Y/N? That you?” from a deep voice at the back of the room.

“Yeah Frankie, it’s me. I thought Billy was supposed to be here, not you?” You yelled back, moving behind the counter toward your station, dropping your bag and taking off your jacket.

“He was, but he managed to get his ass knocked out last night so he’s taking the day off,” Frank replied laughing, walking out from the back towards you.

“What? Is he ok?” You ask, giving Frank a hug when he got closer.

“Managed to piss somebody off at a bar, not really sure what happened, but he’s fine. Just stupid,” he replied, patting your back as you release him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy but he is an idiot I swear, you can guarantee it was his fault as well,” you say.

Frank chuckle and nods as a response, “yeah I bet. Hey , you got many appointments today?” He asks.

Shit. How the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank Castle - literally the most protective man on earth - that I had to move all of my appointments to next week because a damn mobster broke into my house and demanded I gave him a tattoo today.

“…uh. No just the one, I had to move the rest,” you answer, praying to whoever was listening that Frank wouldn’t ask any questions.

“Why’s that?”

Fuucckkkk.

“Umm..no reason really..” your mind went completely blank, the only thing running through you head were those goddamn blue eyes.

“Kid, what’s going on?” Franks’ eyes narrowing, seeing straight through your bullshit response.

Ughhh. Change the subject right now. “Y’know you call me kid all the time, you’re not that much older than me Frankie. I mean there’s only-”.

“You’re ramblin’ kid. The fuck is going on?” He says, all sense of humor him from his voice.

Ah, there his is, protective Frankie coming in full force.

“Shit. Ok so here’s what happened-” you tell him the full story, coming home from work to see a dangerous criminal chilling in your apartment, the fear that came with that lovely surprise, Caleb’s debt, the weird philosophical conversation, the tattoo talk. All of it.

Of course, excluding the part where you found yourself extremely attracted to the fucking mobster, his weirdly slightly comforting presence, and the fact that the memory of those blue eyes where all you could see as your hand slipped between your legs before you fell asleep.

To be fair to the man, Frank listened to every word you had to say, not interrupting one. But you could see on his face every single emotion he was feeling, the main one being just straight up confusion.

“Lemme get this straight. The fucking Winter Soldier broke into your house last night and is coming in for a tattoo in..” he checked his watch as he spoke, “..an hour?”

“..yeah.” Hit the nail on the head there Frankie.

“Shit.” He says, rubbing his hand over his face in an act of desperation.

“Yep.” You say, patting his arm to try and reassure him.

“Alright, I’m gonna be here the whole time, don’t you worry about that kid. You’re gonna be fine.” He assures you, obviously worried about you.

“I know that Frankie, and if it’s any consolation, he didn’t seem all that bad.” You answer.

“Not that bad?!” He almost shouts, and incredulous look on his face, “Y/N he’s a fucking gangster. He’s fucking danger-“

“FRANK!” You yell, the only way to cut off his tirade before it starts. “I know that, but last night he didn’t do anything bad,okay, and if he wanted to hurt me, he definitely would have done it by now. I’ll be fine Frank, I’ll just give him the tattoo and that will be it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta set everything up.” You say, moving back to your station, beginning to grab everything you need.

“Holy fuck kid, how are you not freaking the fuck out right now?” He whisper shouts, running one hand up and down his head.

“I’m not sure. I think…I think I trust him not to hurt me. It’s weird, but my gut’s telling me I’ll be fine.” You answer, starting to print some different sized stencils.

“Kid your brain is brok-” Frank starts to say but he’s cut off by his phone ringing. He pulls it from his pocket and says “Shit, it’s my kids’ school, I gotta take it.”

You wave him off, Frank answers the phone with a sigh.

He walks off to the back of the shop, leaving you to finish setting up your station. Frank talks for a minute and wander back towards you.

“My girl got into a fight at school, Maria’s busy at work so I’ve got to go get her,” he says, dragging his hands down his face, in a way only an exasperated father could.

“Oh my god is she ok?” You ask.

“She’s fine, but apparently she broke some little shitheads nose for picking on her friends,”

“Like father, like daughter then,” you respond with a laugh.

“Can the people I care about stop getting themselves in dangerous situations for like five goddamn seconds.” Frank says, throwing a pointed glare your way.

“Frankie, how many times, I’m gonna be fine alright, go get your kid and -I dunno- take her out for ice cream, tell her she did good.” You say, pushing him to the door.

“Only if you’re one hundred percent certain you’ll be fine.” He says, already pulling his jacket from the hook.

“I’m good I swear, now go!”

“Ok ok I’m going, stop pushing me” he says, leaving the shop and letting the door fall closed behind him, the bell ringing as it did.

Only a minute passed before your phone pinged with a text.

James:

Have you already forgotten about me that quickly doll?

Send me the address to the shop

Now… please

Fuck me. Why does just his text give me fucking butterflies. Ugh. How irritating.

You send him the address and his response is cheeky as shit.

James:

See you at 1 doll, you better be wearing something pretty for me.

Little shit.

————

You had the music in the shop bumping, using it to help calm your pounding heart, adrenaline starting to get the best of you. Your favourite song came over the speakers so you turned it up and started to dance a little, knowing that you had at least 10 minutes before Barnes turned up. Unfortunately this action caused you to miss the ringing of the bell on the door.

Holy shit - ink and a show, today is going better than expected already.

Bucky slowly let the door close, trying not to disturb the dancing girl he couldn’t get out of his head. He lent against the wall, just watching and waiting…and staring.

Shaking out your hands to get rid of any nerves, you turn and nearly scream when you see Barnes stood at the door.

“Oh god, sorry I didn’t hear you come in,” you say, subtly looking him up and down and damn he looks good. Ever the powerful mobster, he wore a black suit, his black shirt had no tie and was unbuttoned at the top. His hair was slicked back from his face, opposite to how it was the night before. This was the other side of him, the business man - James Barnes: the face of multiple charities, the man that law enforcement could never seem to put behind bars. Last night you met the threat, the assassin, and you may be one of the first in his history to survive a meeting with the Soldier.

“No problem doll, I was enjoying the show,” he says, pushing off of the wall and stalking towards you.

Oh my god, “oh..ok, well I have everything set up and ready so if you’re ok to start I say let get going,” you respond, turning to the part of the shop where your station was, nerves flooding back, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.

“Damn girl, not even any small talk?” He asks, slowly following you to the table.

“Oh sorry, I would have asked how your day has been so far, but I didn’t want you to think I was prying into your business. I wouldn’t want you to think I was being disrespectful ab-”

“Ramblin’ again doll, thought I told you that you don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said softly, sounding genuine. “I know what people say about me, I understand why you would be nervous, but I just ask you to not believe everything you hear, ok doll? I’m not who they say I am.” His tone was gentle, almost tired but still pleading, hoping you believe him.

“So you’re not a mobster?” You ask, voice low and calm.

“Oh no I am,” he responds with a small laugh, “I am, and I do what gangsters do. But I am not the ruthless animal I’m made out to be, doll I’m just not. I do what needs to be done.”

His voice breaks slightly on the pet name. His tone is so sincere and tired. Oh my..he’s telling the truth. It actually affects him to hear that about himself.

“Ok,” you respond, siting on your stool next to your station and the table, looking up at him with no fear in your eyes, trusting his words.

“Ok? That’s your response?” He asks, moving around the table to sit on it directly in-front of you.

“Yeah. What did you want me to do Barnes, not believe you?” You ask, all fear gone from your voice.

“Of course not,” he says, confusion laced in his voice, his eyebrows furrowed, “but I wasn’t expecting you to believe me immediately, shit you were scared of me like a minute ago.”

“I know but I think I trust you? You haven’t done anything to me, y’know other than breaking into my apartment. I trust you when you say you’re not someone I should be afraid of.” You answer truthfully.

“…good.” He says, at a loss of what to say next.

“Good. So, Barnes, are we doing this or what?” You ask.

“Yeah let’s do it doll, and please, call me Bucky.” He responds, shrugging off his jacket, folding it and placing it on the head of the table. You had to make a conscious effort to not stare at the way his arms filled out his shirt, but damn it was hard. He sat silently waiting for you to talk.

“Ok..Bucky.. tell me about what size and what placement you want for this.” You say, “I printed some sizes out because I wasn’t sure what size you wanted, and I can reprint or adjust it based in what you want.”

“Oh you a real professional, huh? Not gonna lie to you doll, that serious voice is kinda getting me goin’” he says, smirk on his face, leaning back on his arms, lifting his hips and moving slightly on the table.

Fuck me, what is this man doing to me? He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s talking again.

“I want to get it on my forearm, the inside, and I think that size looks good,” he says, pointing to the 10x8 you printed.

“Ok that sounds good, which arm were you thinking?”

Silence. He stares down at you, an unreadable look on his face. You break eye contact and then freeze.

Shit. Shit. You dumbass. Which arm? Which fucking arm? Are you kidding? I can literally see his metal fucking hand. Oh dear god.

The silence between you goes on for entirely too long. You’re not sure whether you should apologise or wait for him to speak first. You weren’t sure if he would be offended, having a reminder of his injury.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just continues to stare down at you, that blank look on his face. Looking back up at him, you start to apologise but the words get caught in your throat. His eyes. He couldn’t control them the same way he did his face, tons of different emotions flowing through them, none lasting long enough for you to understand before another one took its place.

If only you knew what he was actually thinking. She asked which arm. She knows about my arm, everyone does, but she still asked. She forgot. The arm is all people see, a weapon, an instrument used to inflict nothing but pain. It’s all people see, but she forgot. That’s not what she sees. Maybe…maybe she just sees me.

He’s shuts his racing thoughts down, fully aware of how awkward the silence was becoming. “I’m thinking my right arm might be a little easier for you doll,” he says, an amused look crossing his face, his tongue poking his cheek.

You open your mouth to apologise for your mistake but he holds up his right hand and says, “and please, you don’t have to apologise like I know you’re going to, we’re all good darlin’.”.

He’s gotta stop with the pet names before I melt.

“Ok, uh, are you sure, because I honestly meant no disrespect or anything. I-,” you start, but Bucky cut you off quickly.

“Darlin’, what did I just say?” A stern tone coats his words and goddamn does it send a shiver down your spine. You internally roll your eyes and look away, back to your station, when you feel two warm fingers on your jaw, turning your head back to looks at him. Holy fuck. He places his thumb on the other side of your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him as he leans in closer. His voice was low when he said, “That wasn’t a rhetorical question, Y/N, what did I just say?”

Jesus fucking wept. Somehow his use of your name made your heart pound, and the fact that his hand was so warm and strong holding onto your face.

“You said we’re all good..” you answer trailing off at the end of your sentence. His eyes don’t move from yours for a second.

“And?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.

Christ alive.

“I don’t have to apologise..” you say, eyes flicking between his and falling to his lips for a second and then back to his eyes.

“That’s right darlin’,” his eyes dropped to your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his lip. “So stop, okay?” He says, lifting your chin to catch your eye.

“Yes sir.” It’s an automatic response but you can’t help but be a little proud of yourself when he lets out a small throaty growl at the name.

“Careful doll.” He responds, letting go and leaning back, “How about we get started before I do something you regret, hmm?”

Like I could regret you.

You turn back to your station to try and clear your head of all the dirty thoughts running wild. “Ok.. Bucky, if you could roll up your sleeve so I can wipe the area, I’ll place the stencil and you can check if it’s where you want it to be.” You say, not used to the name he said to call him by.

“Mhm,” he hums, releasing the cuff link on his right sleeve, his prosthetic catching the glare of the light above, the plates shining. He places the cuff link in the pocket of his jacket and begins rolling up his sleeve and folds it at his elbow.

You clean the area and place the stencil straight on his arm, and peel it off.

“There’s a mirror on the wall over there, you can check if it’s alright.” You say.

“Okie dokie doll,” he responded the furrowed his brows, like he was confused at why he said that, not very gangster of him.

I like him. He says okie dokie.

“Looks good there darlin’, and as much as I hate to say it, we gotta speed this up a little, I’m expecting a call at some point around 2:30 and I’d prefer you not have to hear it.” He says, coming back to the table, sitting down and swinging his legs up onto it.

You take his arm, putting it on the rest in a position easiest for tattooing while saying “Why’s that? Would you have to kill me if I overheard your call?” You ask, enough humor in your voice for him to know you’re joking.

“Probably, depends how much you hear.” He said, completely deadpan. He looks at you and you have the strangest feeling that he actually wouldn’t hurt you either way.

“Shit ok. Is that position comfortable for you?”

“I’m all good darlin’, let’s go,” he says, adjusting his position on the table slightly. His left arm rests across his stomach as he sits on the table, leaning against the backrest, his ankles crossed.

“Ok I’m gonna do a small line so you know how it feels,” you look at him and he nods. You draw a line about 2 centimetres long then stop, “how’s that?” You ask.

“Ain’t nothin’ doll, keep goin’.” He responds.

“Ok here we go.” You say, getting back to it.

————

You’ve been tattooing for about 40 minutes, and there hasn’t been a word spoken between the both of you. His arm kept flexing whenever you moved away, and he kept clenching his jaw, like he was in pain but was refusing to admit it, even to himself.

“Are you ok? We can stop for five if you want a break? I’ve just finished the outline so I’ve got to change needles anyway.” You ask, disrupting the silence between you, moving the machine away from his arm so you can switch to a higher grouping for the blackwork.

“I’m fine Y/N, how much longer do you think it’ll take?” He asks, moving his head to look at the outline that you had completed.

“Oh it’s hard to say, but probably another 30 at least,” you respond, looking at him while he was admiring the tattoo so far.

God he’s pretty.

“Shit.” He says, rubbing his forehead with his other hand.

“Are you worried about your call?” You ask calmly.

“Not worried about the call itself… just having to do it here may cause some issues.” He responds, lowering his hand to his thigh.

“Because I’m here? I can go to a different room if you want?” You say, placing the machine back on your station, and turning to look at him fully.

“It’s ok doll, to be honest with you, nothing that needs to be said will make any sense to you anyway, and I mean that in the least offensive way possible.” He says, looking at you with apologetic face, tilting his head slightly. “But depending on the news I get, I wouldn’t want my reaction to… scare you.”

“Oh.. well I guess we’ll see when your call comes.” You answer, unsure of how to react to that.

————

The sharp ringing of his phone interrupts the sounds of the machine. You move the machine away from him, turning it off so he could speak freely without noise.

“I really am sorry about this darlin’, but it’s important-”

“Answer it then, it’s fine Bucky.” You cut him off, concerned he was going to miss it if he kept talking.

He gave you another apologetic look, and then turned his back to you to get off the table and answer the call.

You sat in silence as he started to speak.

“Rogers, what did ya find?” His voice changes from how he speaks to you, deeper and more serious.

The person on the other line speaks for a moment before Bucky responds, “we already knew that, didn’t we? What new information did you find?”

Silence.

“Of course he is..,” there is anger in his tone now, “get someone to tell the asshole he can threaten what he likes, I’m not sitting down with him.”

A moment goes by and you think that may have been the end of it, until you see his shoulders tense and-

“FUCK NO!” He shouts, making you jump a little.

“No Rumlow Gets Nothing, I don’t give a shit what he’s doing… Then send the commissioner a goddam gift basket Steve, some portraits of his family would be nice, remind him why he pays us the fucking protection fee.” He seethes at the man down the phone.

This should not be turning me on, shit.

“For fucks sake… Walker is nothing Steve, just some fucking Nazi junkie with a rich daddy, trying to get his hands on my shit…get Nat to bring his ass in, I’ll deal with it Steve… I said I’d deal with it.”

His tone on the last sentence sends a shiver down your spine, what the fuck does ‘deal with it’ mean?

“Ah shit is he ok?” Bucky asks, tone soft now, caring even, “Damn, he’s gonna be out for blood now.. good for him.. give Clint the week off, find the guys and give the pricks to him, let him get out some of his pent up craziness out.”

Oh Clint sounds fun.

“Ok, alright I gotta go now man. Yeah I’m at the shop… nah it’s nothing..yeah ya did… ok fuck off now.. later man.”

He hangs up the phone, takes a death breath and pinches the place between his eyebrows, his other hand going to his hip. He stands like that before he turns back to you, with a small awkward smile. That was cute.

“Sorry about that doll, hope I didn’t upset ya,” he says, walking around the table and looking down at you.

“You didn’t. I gotta ask though, is your friend or whoever ok?” You ask, not bringing up the start of the call where the man in-front of you all but admitted to a multitude of crimes - blackmail, extortion, supplying drugs. He sounded different- genuine when he asked if the man was ok. It was sweet.

“Clint? Yeah no he’s fine, got jumped last night so he’s pissed about it, but he’s ok, worst thing he got were some nasty bruises and a broken finger.” Bucky responds, confusion on his face, wondering why you care.

“How did he break a finger?” you ask, moving backwards as he sits back on the table.

“Oh he didn’t go down without a fight, clocked one of them on his way out,” he says with a small chuckle.

“Ah, good for crazy Clint,” you say with a smile.

Bucky let’s out a sharp quick laugh, “that exactly what I thought doll,” he says, leaning back and putting his arm on the rest, “ready when you are.” He adds.

Ok right back to it. Got it boss.

“Ok, should only be about 10 more minutes.” You say.

“Alright doll.” He answers, leaning his head back on the rest, tilting his head so he could watch you.

Ten minutes later you were finished, putting your machine down for the final time.

“Okie dokie, I’m all done. Have a look in the mirror, see what ya think,” you say, hoping he liked it, not much you could do about it if he didn’t.

He moves over to the mirror, checking out his new ink, twisting his arm around to see it fully. He’s silent for a little while before he says, “fuck doll, you’re a damn artist.”

“Does that mean you like it?” You ask, failing to hide the hope in your voice.

“I love it. Couldn’t have asked for a better one for my first piece.” He says, walking forwards to stand in-front of you, letting you wrap the fresh tattoo, handing him a leaflet on aftercare as you talk.

“You’re shitting me,” you say, “was that seriously your first one?”

“Yeah, why are you so surprised darlin?” He responds, tilting his head.

“I don’t know, just sorta thought you’d have them all over.” You answer.

“All over, huh. You been thinking about me naked doll?” He says with a cheeky grin, talking half a step closer to you.

Shit.

“What, n-no of course not, why would I do that. I mean I’m sure you look good - uh fine.. naked but I don’t-” you cut yourself off before you embarrass yourself anymore.

“No, no ramble on Y/N please, I’m really enjoying watching you try to figure your way out of the grave you’re digging right now,” he says, chucking lightly.

“Shut up Bucky, leave me alone” you responds, looking down at your feet.

“Hey,” he grabs your chin, again, and add pressure until you’re looking up at his eyes, “don’t ever try and tell me what to do, darlin, I don’t tend to respond well to it. I won’t ‘shut up’ and I’ll never ‘leave you alone’… I like ya too much for that.” He says, sounding like a mix between a threat and a compliment.

“Uh.. okay.” You answer, not sure how to respond to his words.

He can tell that you don’t know what to say, so he mercifully breaks the silence. “I love the tattoo doll, it’s looks amazing. You’ve got a talent Y/N.” He drops his hand from your chin as he speaks.

“Thank you, Bucky. It means a lot.” You answer sincerely.

“How much do I owe you sweetheart?” He asks, reaching into his jacket for his wallet.

That’s a new one.

“Uh, say $180?” You respond.

“$180? Damn you gotta charge more than that doll,” he says pulling some bills from his wallet.

He hands you the bills and says “now that’s for today and it should cover next time too, take half for now and half for then.”

You’re stunned by the fact that he’s already planning for next time but your jaw actually drops when you look at the bills.

They were hundreds.

“Woah I think you gave me the wrong bills,” you say, trying to push the bills back in his hands.

“No I didn’t, I know what I gave you. $180 for today, say $200 for next time and the rest is tip.” He answers smoothly, folding your hand back over the bills.

You look down to count and start shaking your head, “I can’t accept this, it’s way too much.”

“Consider it a thank you for dealing with the inconvenience of me having to do business in the middle of the appointment.” He says with a smile.

“Bucky this is 2000 dollars.”

“I know.” He puts up his hand again, stopping you from talking, “I’m not taking it back doll, just have it will ya?” He says, rolling his sleeve back down, doing the cuff back up with the cufflink and placing his jacket back on.

“Oh my god, you’re serious aren’t you?” You ask, unbelievable he wanted you to have over fifteen hundred dollars as tip.

“Yes I am.” He answers, straightening his jacket, “it also may be a small bribe.”

There it is.

“A bribe for what?” You ask, expecting his to ask you to keep quiet about his call.

“I want you to be my artist, anytime I want a tattoo, I want you doing it for me.” He says, smiling down at you with a hint of…something him his eye.

“Really?” You ask in shock, not expecting that from him.

“Yeah, like I said earlier, you got talent. I want more of you on me.” Bucky says smirking at the euphemism he made.

Fuck me running.

“Oh..shit.. yeah ok, that sounds..,” you swallow heavily, “sounds like a plan.” You smile up at him, trying to hide the way his words affected you.

He smiles back, stepping closer and closer until his chest is almost touching yours.

“Yes it’s does. You’re mine now doll,” he says, a dark look in his eye. You swallow hard again and your breath stutters at his words, eyes going straight to the floor. He notices your reaction and smirks, “my artist, I mean.” He continued.

“Although, judging by your little reaction there, I’d bet you be ok with that, wouldn’t you doll?” He says, his tone slightly mocking.

You say nothing.

He hums, then places his right hand on your cheek and tilts your head so you’re looking him in the eye again.

“Would you?” He asks softly.

“Maybe,” you whisper, a cocky smile breaking out on his face.

“Maybe, huh? ‘Mkay, guess I’ll just have to convince you then doll.” He says back, leaning closer, eyes going to your lips before he looks back up, giving you a chance to get out of the situation.

“Guess so.” You respond, some confidence back in your voice.

He hums again, and then he’s kissing you. His kiss is forceful but somehow still gentle, like he’s holding back as much as he can.

Fucking finally you can’t help but think as you move your hand to his wrist, the other one going to his left bicep, the feel of the solid metal under your hand was new, but not unwelcome.

His metal hand moves, wrapping around your back and pulling you against him, deepening the kiss when you gasp.

Reluctantly, you break the kiss when you run out of air. He leans back, the pressure on your back relieving a bit.

“Damn doll, what the fuck are you doing to me?” He asks, biting his bottom lip.

“Something good, hopefully.” You respond cheekily.

He groans, leaning his head back. “Yeah hopefully darlin’. I hate to say it sweetheart but I gotta get going.” He says, releasing his hold on you. He moves towards the door and for a second you think he going to leave without another word, until he turns back and says “I’ll talk to you later doll, keep your phone on or I’ll drop by.” He finished his sentence with a wink, and then he’s gone, the bell on the door ringing behind him.

Fuucckk. Maybe I’ll break my phone so he has to come by. Who knew the fucking Winter Soldier was actually a gorgeous softie under it all.

————

A/N: Ta da! Finally complete!! Love everyone of you that read this, mwah 😘

I can’t tag anyone else on this post so I will tag the rest in a separate post.

Tags:

@sleepyghostygirl @starlightaurorab @scrynexxtins @where-the-river-bends @imagines-of-the-fandom @bigenargy @uraverageatiny @squeezyvalkyrie @mylifeispainandiloveit @mrvlxgrl @bopbeepboopbopbeep @yvessaintmuerte @thecubanator2 @flubblubbb @teambarnes72 @ria132love @pingpongfingfong @cashhvi @rivthejellyfish @mybakubaby @blue-chup @goatsmcgee @facinated-lemon @daddylorianisastateofmind @buckybarnesb-tch @yeahimcrying @shifting2places @fand0mskullfa1ry @1-800-bxrnes @amiets2 @aliabhatt19 @leabunny @justmarlen3 @bofadeezs @jehduxi @grey107th @king-of-spades-aroace @sebismyhubby @princezzjasmine @sebastianstanswhore @cluckityduck @shuriri4life @calwitch @goodkittyspost @iateall-yourcookies @miss-i-ship-it @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @anawhitethorn @radiator-hands @tripletstephaniescp

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #mob!bucky #mob!au #tattoo artist!reader

[navybrat817]

Hollow

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky touches on memories from the past and wants to start a new tradition with you.

Word Count: Over 2.3k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal fingering, dirty talk, slight use of knife, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Fic #7 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Newlywed Mob!Bucky won the poll.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

A different side of Bucky came out when the leaves began to change. Subtle, but different. It wasn't noticeable to most since he showed people what he wanted them to see. It was a skill he perfected over the years, almost as if he wore a mask to hide his true self. What you saw, however, was ice in his eyes, the same that no doubt ran through his veins. Something weighed on his heart and mind.

You were determined to get to the bottom of it.

As his partner, it wasn't just your job to chase his demons away, but a need to protect him from whatever haunted or hunted him. You wanted to soothe him and let him know he wasn't alone. You knew if the roles were reversed that he'd eliminate anything or anyone that removed the light from your eyes. To have someone that loved you that much was still a bit of a dream.

How thin is the line between love and obsession?

“I can hear you thinking from here, Printsessa,” Bucky said. He knew you were watching him as he sat in his study, even as he focused on something else in front of him. He didn’t turn his back to anyone, except for you. He knew you would never put a knife in it. That was how much faith and trust he had in you. “Don’t want to join me?”

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” you replied, walking further into the room so you could get a better look at him. He had the sleeves of his button up shirt rolled up, giving you a moment to admire his metal left arm and the tattoos on the right. He commanded the room without standing.

“It's never an interruption if it's you,” he reminded you.

He twirled one of his signature knives between his fingers before he went back to work. The love of your life was an expert in many weapons, but had an affinity for knives. While it didn’t surprise you to find the head of the Bratva with a weapon in hand, you hadn’t expected to see a pumpkin in front of him. “Pumpkin carving? You’re just full of surprises.”

He snorted a little. “I like that I can surprise you.”

Watching him start to carve a pattern in the pumpkin with ease, his eyes narrowed in concentration and hand moving with care, was like a dance. He led with confidence and control. It was a beautiful thing to witness.

“Do you know why some people carve pumpkins?”

You finally took a seat beside him on the sofa, resting a hand on his thigh. His muscles relaxed and you wondered what had him so tense. “I think most do it today to decorate, but some do it to ward off evil spirits,” you said, moving your hand in slow, circular motions as he hummed in acknowledgement. “Is someone haunting you? Do I need to scare them away?”

He tilted his head, a glimmer of pride flickering in his blue eyes as he smiled. “You’d scare them away? You don't think I can handle them myself?”

“I have no doubt you could handle them on your own,” you said with complete certainty. He more than earned his Winter Soldier nickname. “But if something or someone is after you, I want to help.”

He studied you as he lowered his knife and covered your hand with his, holding it like a lifeline. Some protected and fought for him because it was their sense of duty. Others did so out of loyalty to his bloodline. You did it out of love.

Because you did love him.

“No one is after me. At least not today,” he assured you, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss it. “But thank you.”

“Then why are you holding my hand like you can't let go?”

The look he gave you melted your heart a bit. “Because I don't want to let you go.”

It was almost as if he was worried you'd bolt if he released you. The only time you'd run would be when you wanted him to chase you. Or maybe he imagined someone would try to take you away from him. He'd never let anyone get you. “What's on your mind then?”

And how do I help?

“My family,” he admitted, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “My mom used to carve pumpkins. I haven't done it in years.”

You didn’t speak for a moment. His family wasn’t a topic he discussed much, so you didn’t want to say the wrong thing. “Did she teach you how?”

A faint smile appeared and fell just as quickly. “She did,” he said, admiring his handiwork. “I thought it was strange at first, you know? Encouraging me to pull out the insides and leave it hollow. And to carve a face? It almost seemed like a form of torture. Probably why dad demanded I use a decent knife.”

He didn’t hide the hint of anger when he mentioned his dad. You turned your hand over so your palm connected with his, letting him squeeze it to ground him. “But that’s not why your mom did it. She was teaching you to do something beautiful instead of harmful.”

“That's exactly what she did,” he agreed, leaning forward to pick up the knife. “It also encouraged my critical thinking skills. You can’t just dive in without a plan. You have to think it through.”

Bucky sometimes teased that his best friend, Steve, was the man with a plan. The truth was, they both were. Each brilliant in their own way, there was a reason they stayed in power and why so many feared them.

“And I felt proud when she displayed them. Valued,” he continued, his voice a little choked up before he cleared his throat. “It was a tradition I didn't realize I missed.”

Maybe the nostalgia was the reason his eyes looked a bit colder in the fall. “Sounds like a beautiful memory,” you said.

“I hadn’t formed beautiful memories in years until you came along,” he said, his lips skimming your temple. “But you're my family now.”

Tears didn't fill your eyes, but you felt them in your throat. The man was ruthless when the occasion called for it. Terrifying in his rage. You were the lucky one who would never be on the receiving end of it. Only his love. His need. But you could take his rage if you had to.

Like his old memories, you could make it something beautiful.

“You're my family, too,” you told him. You hadn't expected that of Bucky when you met and part of you wanted to stay away from the dangerous world he helped rule, but how could you not want a life with him?

His gaze softened, which warmed your heart. “And I would feel very proud if you helped me finish this,” he said, moving further back against the cushion and opening his legs for you to sit between them. “Maybe it can be the start of our own tradition.”

Your heart raced as you stood up and took a seat on the edge of the cushion, exhaling as he pressed himself against you. “I’m not good at this,” you said, closing your hand around the handle as he placed the knife in it. You didn’t want to ruin the intricate design he already worked so hard on.

His warm breath tickled your ear as he whispered, “We’ll do it together.”

“Guide me?” You asked.

“Of course, Printsessa.”

At the root of everything, Bucky was a man who didn’t want to walk this earth alone. Power and money meant nothing if he didn’t have someone to share himself with. It would’ve left him as hollow as the pumpkins he worried about carving as a child. And if helping him finish this one would make him happy, you’d do just that.

Time passed as he helped you cut into the pumpkin and urged you to follow the stencil, the smell from the pumpkin seeds off to the side bringing a pleasant layer to Bucky's woodsy cologne. There was something intimate about him having you close, his hand directing where yours should go. Like when he taught you how to properly shoot a gun. He said you didn't need his help, but he gave it to you all the same.

Your hold almost slipped when his metal hand snaked between your thighs, softly rubbing your pussy through your underwear. It barely covered your mound, just like your flimsy nightgown. “How am I supposed to concentrate?” you asked, arching as he firmly pressed his palm against you.

“You asked me to guide you. I will,” he said, the light scratch from his scruff making goosebumps rise on your skin.

“You're distracting me,” you whispered, trying to keep your breathing nice and steady.

“Would distracting you be so bad?” he whispered back close to your ear. “We're almost done.”

His fingers gently played with your clit through the fabric, drawing a breathy sigh from you as you squirmed. His almost feathery touch made you all the more determined to finish up, especially since he refused to let you close your thighs to get any friction. You were on the edge of release and he was relentless in loving you.

But he didn't let you come.

“Good girl,” he praised once you finished carving, stopping his fingers as you set the knife down. You bit back a whimper as the rising pleasure faded. “It's beautiful.”

“It is,” you breathed. Instead of a smiling face you saw on so many pumpkins around Halloween, he designed a merged sun and moon. “It's us, isn't it?”

“It is,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before he gestured for you to hand him another knife. “You're my sun.”

“That makes you my moon,” you said, stiffening when you felt the blade at your shoulder. “What are you-”

Bucky sliced through your strap and kissed your bare skin. “I'm starting a new tradition,” he said, doing the same to the other side before he slid your nightgown down. He dragged the knife across your exposed breasts, taking great care not to cut you. “Carve a pumpkin. Cut your clothes off. Make you come.”

“You mean tease my pussy without getting me off,” you said without much bite.

He chuckled, a deep rumble as he set the knife aside. “I always get you off. I’m going to make you feel so good, Solynshko.”

With gentle kisses along your jaw and neck, his large hand slid up to fondle your breasts. The rough pads of his fingers teased your nipples as you gasped and reached back to grasp his hair. He moaned as you twisted your fingers in the strands, his hand sliding down to your wet heat again. Thankfully, he didn't tease you through the fabric this time. His fingers dipped into your underwear and you knew he was eager to feel your arousal.

Everything in your core tightened when he caressed your folds. You met his gaze as you tilted your head back, wanting him to see your desperation as his gaze darkened. “Make me come, please.”

“People beg me for money. Power. Mercy,” he said in a low voice, nuzzling your cheek as he sank a finger in, your walls contracting around him. “Not you. It's only pleasure you ask for.”

“It's you I'm begging for,” you admitted in a whisper. Even when you pushed or questioned why he wanted you of all people, you gave him your love. You yielded only to him and you would never bend your will for anyone else. To deny him would be to deny yourself.

He brushed his lips along your jaw and dipped another finger in as you shuddered. “You begging for me to fuck your pretty pussy with my fingers? Make you ruin this couch before I give you my cock?”

Your head fell back against his shoulder as you bit your lip. “Yes, I am. Ruin me. Love me,” you moaned.

“I love you more than anything,” he promised as your eyes slipped shut, dots of white dancing behind your eyelids.

He gripped your jaw to turn your head back to him, seeking out your lips with his. There was nothing tentative in the kiss, his ice meeting your fire and creating an explosion of need within both of you. Your body hummed as you felt the peak of your impending climax, ready for him to tear you apart.

“Come for me, Printsessa,” he demanded against your lips.

Your pussy clamped around his fingers as you lost yourself to the daze of your orgasm, shamelessly crying out his name. Your juices dripped down his fingers as he helped you ride it out, praising you in your ear and guiding you the way he did with the carving. He was telling the truth before: He always got you off.

“Are you okay?” you asked once you caught your breath, the question you meant to ask the moment you entered his study. He seemed more at ease, though lust now clouded his eyes.

“I'm okay,” he said in a rough voice, slowly pulling his fingers out as you sagged against him. He pulled you closer, enveloping you in his strong arms. It was safe. It was home. “But I think you need my cock.”

“I think I need it, too,” you smiled once you caught your breath, knowing his cock likely twitched in his pants as he tasted you on his fingers. “And you owe me a new nightgown.”

“I ordered you a new one before you came in here,” he said, his expression smug as you turned your head to stare at him. “Now sit on my cock. We have a long night ahead of us.”

“Bossy Pakhan,” you teased.

But if giving you orgasms, ruining your clothes, and making new memories brought the light back in his eyes, you wouldn't complain.

Oh, to belong to him. Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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