#nick fowler au

[navybrat817]

See Through You

Pairing: Dark!Nick Fowler x Female Reader Summary: You head to a carnival with your best friend and get more than you bargained for when your handsome neighbor bumps into you. Word Count: Almost 4.8k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, NONCON/DUBCON, unprotected vaginal sex, semi-public sex, choking, mirror sex, possessive behavior, mentions of stalking, breaking and entering, threat of violence and implied violence (not against the reader), Nick Fowler (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fix #8 Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks to @maskedmistress87 who suggested dark!Nick with mirror and choking and @sgt-seabass and @tumblin-theworldaway for spitballing. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @buckets-and-trees ​(thanks for the feedback and help!), but 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!

It was your best friend's idea to wear costumes to the carnival. Though it wasn't Halloween just yet, it was a good way to get into the spooky holiday spirit. You weren't sure why you decided on a Red Riding Hood costume, but the cape would keep you somewhat warm if it got too cold. So would the stockings. You even got a basket purse so you could carry your things around and keep in theme with the outfit.

If you were lucky, you'd find yourself a big, bad wolf to play with.

After adjusting the cape around your neck, you spritzed yourself with your favorite perfume and carefully set the bottle on your vanity. You always set it to the right of your jewelry box. Strangely, it wasn't in its usual spot the last few days. Just like your robe wasn't yesterday. You swore you set it on the left hook, but when you got out of the shower it was on the right.

It would’ve been easy to write it off as a roommate messing with you, but you lived alone.

“I really need to stop watching scary movies before bed,” you mumbled as you went to your dresser and shut your underwear drawer. It was ajar a few days ago. Had you left your place in such a hurry that you forgot to close it?

The ding of your phone pulled you from your thoughts, giving yourself one more look in your vanity mirror before you went to get the device.

“Two minutes away!” Kiki messaged you.

There was a slight chill in the air as you went outside to wait, but that wasn't why you shivered. Every once in a while, you had the feeling someone was watching you. Like a pair of eyes following your every move. It didn't make sense. There was nothing about you worth watching.

It didn't stop a chill from sliding down your spine as you looked over your shoulder every time you left your home. Or when you thought about the random things that moved around your place. As far as you knew, no one knew where your spare key was. You lost sleep wondering if some creep snuck in. If someone did break in, they didn’t take anything.

But if someone went into your place and didn't steal anything, what did they want?

“Nice costume.”

You jumped at the sound of a familiar voice, almost dropping your phone as you turned toward it. “Nick, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” he smiled, but didn't sound sorry at all.

“Sure you are,” you smiled back, your heart slowing to a steady beat again as you wondered how he managed to sneak up on you.

Nick Fowler moved into your neighborhood a few months ago. He usually kept to himself, but made it a point to give you a nod when he was going to or from work. While you wouldn't say you were friends, he was friendly enough with you and didn't bother anyone. He even helped you fix your cable when it went out some time back. As far as neighbors went, he was a good one.

And a handsome one.

The man turned quite a few heads when he unloaded boxes from the moving truck and you didn’t blame anyone for looking his way. With his athletic build, he carried the heavy items with ease. He had the bluest eyes you’d ever seen and his short, dark hair only helped to make them stand out more. The scruff surrounding his lips and along his chin looked long enough to leave a delicious burn if it ever touched your skin. You hardly ever saw him smile at anyone, except you. And he smirked at you on more than one occasion.

Like he had a secret he was itching to tell you.

“You okay?” He asked, taking a step closer. “You seem a little jumpier than usual.”

“Just a little tired. Haven't slept well the last few nights.”

“Is everything okay?”

You debated telling him what was going on since he sounded concerned, but decided against it. You didn't need to burden him with that. Besides, nothing was wrong. Just the spooky season getting under your skin. “Oh, yeah. Everything's fine. I’ll probably end up crashing when I get back.”

“Well, I'm here if you need anything,” he said after a moment. Those blue eyes of his meticulously looked over your costume. “So, you have a fun night planned?”

You almost tightened your cape around your body to hide from his gaze. Not that his attention wasn't flattering. It was kind of nice. Plus he was single as far as you knew and you never noticed him bringing anyone around. “Yeah. Going out with a friend."

Nick frowned a little. “He isn't wearing a wolf costume, is he?”

You swore there was a hint of jealousy in his tone, but you were probably imagining it. “No, she isn't,” you said, smiling as his shoulders relaxed.

“Well, it’s a great costume. You honestly look good enough to eat,” he said, chuckling a bit when heat crawled up your neck. “Sorry. I hope that didn’t sound bad.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I appreciate the compliment,” you said, both of you smiling as the warmth continued to move up to your face. “Do you have any plans?”

“I may watch a movie,” he said, running his fingers through his short hair. You tried not to stare at the veins in his hands or the way his sweater hugged his muscular frame. “It's too bad you can't join me.”

Your eyebrows shot up, not expecting his offer. Was it an actual offer? He hadn't invited you over to his place before. “Is it a scary movie? I like them, but sometimes they…”

“Scare you?” he guessed, his smile sympathetic as you nodded. “Well, you don't have to worry about any bad guys with me around. I can keep you safe.”

You smiled softly before Kiki pulled up to the curb. “Maybe another time?”

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, seemingly disappointed as he nodded toward the car. “Have fun at the carnival.”

Your smile slipped a little as he walked toward his place. “Thanks,” you called out, quickly getting into the car.

“Hey! Isn't that your super hot neighbor?” Kiki asked as you buckled yourself in.

“Yeah,” you replied, looking in the mirror as she drove off. Nick had stopped before he went inside and watched as the two of you drove away. It made you shiver. “He kind of invited me over to his place.”

“What?! And you're in here with me?” she asked, lightly smacking your arm. “You should've gone with him or invited him to come with us. You could’ve gotten laid tonight.”

At the reminder of your recent lack of sex life, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with having fun, but you wanted a bit more than that. Not like anyone had shown interest in you as of late. There was the guy who lived across the street who flirted with you weeks back, but he pretty much avoided contact with you the next day.

You wondered if he moved out since you hadn’t seen him since.

“You were already on your way and I didn’t want to just invite him,” you said, loosening your grip on your purse when your fingers began to ache. “It's weird though. He told me to have fun at the carnival, but I don't remember ever telling him I was going.”

How did he know?

“Maybe he guessed. Or maybe you mentioned it and forgot. I mean, you did say you haven't been sleeping well lately.”

“That's my own fault,” you said.

“Well, lack of sleep could be messing with your memory. And may I remind you that I told you to stop watching scary movies? They always make you jumpy,” she said, glancing over at you as her smile faded. Nick even noticed your jumpiness. “Look, we can skip this and go tomorrow. I don't mind.”

You shook your head and brushed the strange feeling off. She was right. Those films made you paranoid and she didn't need to deal with that. “No, it's okay. We deserve some fun.”

“You want some real fun, go visit your neighbor when you get back. He looks like he knows how to fuck.”

“I'm sure he does,” you giggled. You had no doubt about that. “But I'm not going to find out tonight.”

“You might. Who knows? He may even show up at the carnival to hunt you down.”

You both laughed, your smile bright and happy again. No one was going to hunt you down. No one was watching you. Your life wasn't some creepy movie. You just needed to relax and have a good time.

The carnival was in full swing, booming with cheerful music and shouts from people on the brightly lit rides. As you followed Kiki though, you kind of regretted not taking Nick up on his offer to hang out. Not even thirty minutes after you arrived, your best friend bumped into a hot guy. Literally bumped into him and almost spilled her drink on his shirt. Both of them had hearts in their eyes and they had been attached at the hip since. While you were glad she was having a good time, you were starting to feel a bit like a third wheel.

You also had that impression that someone was watching you again. Your skin prickled as you looked to the left and right, wishing the feeling would go away. It was silly. No one was looking at you. Everything was fine.

“Hey,” you said, tapping Kiki on her arm as she laughed at some corny joke. “I think I may explore on my own a bit.”

Her face fell as she looked between you and her new beau. “You sure? We can-”

“I'm sure. Really,” you assured her. She deserved to have a good time and would've encouraged you to do the same if you bumped into a guy. “I'll text you in a bit so we can meet back up?”

“Or I can give you a ride home.”

Surprise was written all over your face as you spun around. That was the second time Nick made you jump today, an amused smile on his face as you held your chest. He was in the same outfit you saw him in earlier, but he now had a sticker on the left side of his chest that stated, “Hi! My name is NICK”.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, his smile immediately fading as you took a breath. Your tone was a lot sharper than you intended. “I'm sorry. You just scared me again.”

Nick peered at you before he sighed. “Didn't mean to scare you or eavesdrop. I got bored watching the movie and decided to check this place out,” he said, glancing down at his feet for a moment. “I tried waving a minute ago, but I guess you didn't see me.”

You felt like a bitch. Maybe that was why you thought someone was watching you. It really was all in your head. “Sorry, I didn't see you.”

“Sorry I scared you again,” he said.

“It's okay. Really.”

“Well, neighbor, since you're here, you two should hang out,” Kiki suggested, giving you an encouraging smile.

What did you have to lose? “Would you like to join me?”

Your neighbor's smile was back on his handsome face. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

Kiki nudged you forward, moving you closer to Nick as your stomach flipped. “Text me when you leave or if you still need a ride.”

“Don't worry. I'll take care of her," Nick promised as she walked off with her new guy on her arm, leaving the two of you alone. “Lead the way."

“Okay," you said, maintaining a bit of distance as you walked beside him. You had no clue if you wanted to play games or go on a ride. “Anything in particular you want to do?”

“You.”

Your head twisted in his direction so quickly you almost hurt yourself. “What?”

“I said ‘boo’,” he said, pointing in front of him. The two-story, brightly lit funhouse had a bunch of random words on the panels, including “boo”. Why did you think he said “you”? God, you needed to get a grip. “Should we do that? It could be fun.”

With a small laugh, you nodded. “Fun in a funhouse,” you said, stopping when the carnival worker at the entrance held up his hand.

“I’m about to go on my break. Come back in thirty minutes.”

“Oh. Okay,” you said, shrugging a little at Nick. Maybe you could find something else to do.

Nick, however, didn’t budge. “That’s quite a break. Tell you what,” he said, taking out his wallet and pulling out a bill. The worker’s eyes lit up when he saw the amount. “Why don’t you take your break and let us go in anyway? We won’t cause any trouble.”

“Stay the whole time for all I care,” the guy said, taking the money with a toothy grin and letting both of you go past to walk up the steps. “Enjoy!” he added, roping it off with a “closed” sign before he walked away.

“Go ahead,” Nick urged, waiting for you to finish going up the stairs first.

The normally whimsical music sounded strange to your ears. Maybe it felt spooky since you knew you were the only two that would be inside. Or maybe it was because the movie you watched a couple of nights ago took place in a funhouse. A group of teens went in. Nobody made it out. No, this wouldn't be anything like that.

“We really could’ve just come back,” you said, holding onto the railing as the stairs shifted back and forth. You didn’t hear Nick follow right away. Glancing back, you swore you saw him check out your ass. Not that he could see much thanks to the cape.

“You might have decided to leave before we made it back this way,” he said as you came across a spinning barrel. Just staring at it made you slightly dizzy. “Not that it would’ve been a bad thing if we left since Kiki ditched you so quickly.”

“She didn’t ditch me,” you argued as you stepped into the barrel. The sound of a laughing clown filled your ears as you did your best to walk in a straight line. “She deserves some fun,” you added, regaining your balance once you stepped onto a normal floor again.

Nick followed you so silently that you didn’t realize he was right behind you until his lips touched your ear. “So do you.”

Hot air shot out of the ceiling above your head with a piercing whistle, giving you an excuse to jump away as your heart pounded. His eyes sparkled in amusement at your reaction. “Like I said, fun in the funhouse,” you teased, putting your hands along the walls as the hallway grew narrow. It was still large enough for you to squeeze through.

“Especially since we have the place to ourselves,” he reminded you.

A shiver rolled down your spine. You wondered exactly what kind of fun he wanted to have and if you should’ve chosen your words more carefully. “You know,” you began as you stumbled into a Hall of Mirrors, frowning as you realized there wasn’t an open door or space to move through. Which mirror did you have to push to get to the next room? “You didn’t say why you were wearing a nametag.”

“It's my costume," he said, tilting his head like the answer was obvious.

You glanced around to see if any of the mirrors had any smudges, anything to give away which direction to go. They were all clean. “And what exactly are you supposed to be?"”

He smirked as he met your reflection in one of the mirrors. “I’m dressed as your neighbour who’s gonna fuck you until you can’t remember anything but my name."

You nearly fell into the mirror and he quickly caught your arm to keep you upright, the grip a bit tighter than you expected. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me," he shrugged a little as he stepped closer. “Almost wore a wolf costume so I could chase you down. The subtle hints I've dropped aren’t working, so I might as well spell it out for you.”

You tried to figure out if he was joking or not. Your reaction was to giggle. A nervous, soft laugh that seemed to wipe his smirk away. “Is that why you came here tonight? You were hoping you'd fuck me?” you asked, remembering your earlier talk with Kiki. “I don’t even remember telling you I was coming here.”

He tapped his ear. “I heard you on the phone with your friend.”

“I was in my bedroom when we made those plans. There’s no way you could've…” you trailed off, a sense of dread pooling in your stomach as he stared at you. Did his eyes always have a dangerous glint to them? “Nick, how did you hear that phone call?”

“Take a wild guess, sweetheart.”

You swallowed a little. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’ve been messing with me.”

It sounded crazy to your ears and you didn’t want to believe it because blaming it on irrational fear was easier. But the single, unashamed nod he gave you almost made you crumble. “I never told you what I do for work, but I’m good with setting up bugs and cameras. And such a sweet thing like you living so close, I couldn't help myself,” he explained casually, like he wasn’t admitting to something completely messed up. “You make such pretty noises when you touch yourself.”

“You watched me,” you whispered, your head spinning when he smirked. He watched you in your intimate, private moments. What else did he do?

“Knocking out your cable gave me the perfect excuse to get inside your place without raising suspicion. You never would've invited me over otherwise. Though you really should be more careful where you keep your spare key. Made it way too easy for me to make a copy.”

You held your stomach to keep from getting sick. So many thoughts raced through your mind as he advanced on you. Why had you ignored your instincts? Did your attraction to him partially blind you? “Why?”

“Because I wanted to. Because you’re mine. Take you pick,” he said, wrapping a hand around your neck before you could move back. “You have no idea how tempted I was to break down your door and fuck you after watching the footage. Or every time I snuck into your place. I even moved things around in the hope you’d turn to me and let me 'help you' figure out what was happening, but you didn’t. You kept your distance. Your little ‘hard to get’ act was cute, but a man can only take so much.”

Each word he spoke added a new layer of dread and alarm. He squeezed a little when you tried to pry his hand away, tears blurring your vision. Shouting wouldn’t do you any good, but it didn’t stop the screams in your mind. “I wasn't playing hard to get. I liked you,” you managed to say.

“And you weren't trying to lead that flirty neighbor on either, but you're too sweet for your own good. Don't worry. I took care of him. He'll never bother you again,” he smirked as your blood ran cold. What did he do? “Or anyone else for that matter.”

The man was insane. “Nick, you-”

He cut you off when he pressed his soft and warm lips against your mouth. You were two seconds away from biting into his bottom lip when he spun you around and shoved your front against the closest, normal mirror. It didn’t budge. “I’m tired of waiting for you to come around,” he said, yanking your cape off. “Tired of just watching when I know you belong to me.”

You froze, unable to fight or yell when he shoved your costume up. No one would hear you over the sounds of the carnival and the worker running the attraction wasn't close by. Why weren’t you fighting? Why couldn’t you do anything to stop him?

“Nick, let’s talk,” you tried to reason. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”

The sound of him tearing your underwear away made the first tear fall. “We're past the talking stage,” he snarled, kicking your legs apart before you whimpered. You weren’t sure if it was the sound that softened his gaze or the sight of your tears. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

His words did nothing to soothe you when he undid his pants. “You are hurting me,” you whispered. He hurt you by bringing fear into your life when he could've just asked you out.

“Am I?” he asked, parting your opening with his fingers. He chuckled darkly as he pushed a digit in with no warning. “Then why are you so wet?”

You whined in denial, but he was right. Arousal trickled along your thighs, your hole aching with the need for him to fill you with something larger than his finger. What was wrong with you? “No,” you moaned.

“Don’t deny me,” he growled, nosing along your neck before he bit down. You yelped, the sharp pain making you tighten around his finger. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re going to have so much fun together.”

Your body betrayed your will as he played with you and you were thankful momentarily when he pulled out. The relief was short-lived when you looked over your shoulder, just in time to watch him unzip his pants and take his hard cock out of his underwear. He’d break you with his size. “You can’t, please.”

“Yes, I can,” he said as he pressed the head of his cock against your sopping wet entrance. “Now be good and take what I give you.”

“Don't-”

“The only thing I want to hear you say is my name. Let’s let your pussy tell me how much you want me.”

You screamed as he pushed inside, your walls burning as you tried to accommodate for the size of him. He hadn’t prepped you nearly enough, though your arousal took some of the pain away. He didn’t pause to give you a chance to adjust either, as if the wet sound of you sucking his cock in gave him permission to take what he believed belonged to him.

“Fuck, your pussy feels better than I imagined,” he groaned, your resolve cracking as you opened your eyes. He forced you to meet his gaze in the mirror and you watched in horrid fascination as he took you. The surrounding glass showed every angle of his claim, your reality becoming more and more distorted. He surrounded you. Consumed you. “And it’s all mine.”

You made a small sound as you braced your hands on the glass, forced to feel every drag of his cock. The more he moved, the more you tried to grind your hips back against his. It was shameful for you to like it, humiliating that you wanted to get off because of him. It was as if your body no longer belonged to you and maybe it never did. Otherwise, why would you want this?

“When I get you home, I’ll take my time. Get you addicted to my cock,” he grunted, smiling at the glazed look in your eyes. “I’ll record it. Make you see how much you love it.”

“Nick,” you gasped when he put his hand around your throat again, a silent command not to close your eyes or look away. You moved a hand to his wrist when it became harder to breathe. He loosened his grip enough for you to inhale and slid his hand down to your chest, squeezing one of your breasts with a moan. You moaned, too.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Look at you. Look at us,” he groaned as he thrust faster. The hand on your chest moved back to your throat when he reached under your skirt. “See how perfect we are together? How well you take my cock? You know you belong to me.”

The sloppy sounds of your cunt got louder as he found your clit and rubbed it quickly. It was almost too much, but you craved more. What was the point of denying him when your pussy kept trying to pull him back in? Why fight the inevitable pleasure when your body surrendered to him?

You weren’t sure how much time had passed and it didn’t matter. You were lucky to remember your own name. He was fucking you dumb and you wondered why the fear faded. You knew it would return when he finished, but you felt ecstasy for now.

“My fucking slut. Never letting you go,” he said, pinching the bundle of nerves with a smirk as you breathed his name. The familiar twist of pleasure grew and his name was the only word you said as dark indulgence flooded your veins. You were going to come and there was nothing you could do to stop it. “So come for me. Right. Fucking. Now.”

The rough demand made your fluttering hole squeeze around him almost painfully. You struggled to hold back, but the release washed over you like a tidal wave. All you could do was helplessly pant as you trembled, his soaked cock thrusting still so he could join you in sweet bliss. And you wanted it. You wanted him to come inside you.

You could hate yourself later for wanting it so badly.

“You. Are. Mine,” he growled, his name falling from your lips as he tipped over the edge. You spasmed around him still as he finished, your cunt filled to the brim. “Mine.”

You gasped for air as he buried his face in your neck, your body shaking as you pressed your forehead against the glass. Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Maybe once you had the strength you'd run. Scream. Cry.

“Look at me,” Nick breathed, his lips touching your pulse. You blinked some of the haze from your eyes as you lifted your head, your heart still racing out of control. Minus the darkened tint in his cheeks, he looked normal. Not a hair out of place. Like he hadn't forced himself on you. “Didn't have to be like this, but it would've happened no matter what."

You nodded, believing him. He took you in the middle of the funhouse without a care of getting caught. He got what he wanted.

“And don't even think about running away from me or I'll chase you down,” he added.

Feeling his spend slide out of you as he pulled out helped the reality of the situation sink in. He took you and you didn't stop him. “I won't,” you answered in a small voice you didn't recognize as he tucked himself away and fixed his pants.

“Good,” he smiled, retrieving your cape from the ground and wrapping it back around you. “Because I'd hate for anything to happen to Kiki. Such a nice coincidence that some guy bumped into her, isn't it?”

You shook your head quickly, tears forming in your eyes again. “No, don't hurt her,” you begged. If what he said about your neighbor was true…

Nick cooed as he framed your face and gently kissed your lips. It was so tender and you almost believed he was capable of being good. Almost. “Be mine and I won't.”

He said it casually, but his eyes told you not to defy him. “I'm yours,” you whispered.

“Good girl,” he said, pulling a hand away to check his watch. “Time's almost up. Let's go.”

You had a hard time moving your feet, but he put an arm around you to help. It was like you were drunk, unable to see or think straight as he quickly found which mirror to exit through. You just wanted to go home, but he took your safe haven away.

Was Nick Fowler your villain or was he an antihero for doing whatever it took to get you?

“Don't worry. We'll let Kiki know you got home safely. You can even tell her I asked you out tonight,” he said, flashing a smile at you that made him look like he'd take a bite out of you. “And when we get back to my place, I'll get you addicted to my cock like I promised.”

So, what do we think? Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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[pinkiebieberpie]

and it's almost convincing, but i've been known to go against my instincts

and i know you're performing but it's working for me

we can talk about it in the morning*

#*dove cameron - bad idea #no idea what this moodboard is i'm just listening to this song ALL DAY LONG and this just happened #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes moodboard #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #nick fowler #nick fowler au #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x y/n #the 355 #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x reader fluff #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan fanfic #nick fowler fic #bucky barnes fic

[holylulusworld]

Fool me twice

Summary: You meet the man of your dreams.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, betrayal?, lies, implied smut, plot twist (kinda), secrets, the reader doesn't know Bucky is with the mafia

A/N: Inspired by a post I saw on social media about a spicy legend.

Maybe there will be more. I don't know yet.

Five months earlier, …

Who would have thought that you’d meet the man of your dreams at McDonald’s after a drunken escapade with your best friend.

You yelled at one of the employees, demanding food. “I need a spicy legend!” 

“I’m right here, doll!” Someone yelled back, making you squeal. “Try me!”

“I want the same,” your friend slurred and jumped at the employee, peppering kisses all over the poor guy’s face. “Are you spicy too?” She purred and shamelessly wrapped her arms around his neck.

The poor employee tried to handle your friend while the guy strolled toward you. He flashed you an irresistible smile and captured your heart with his soft blue eyes.

“How about I invite you for coffee before you get a taste of my spiciness?” He offered and held out his hand. “You look like you need it.”

“I can’t leave my friend here,” you replied and pointed at your friend. “Oh, shit. Wait…” You gasped as your friend started to strip her shirt off. “Fuck, babe! You can’t do this here!”

Suddenly, sober you stopped your friend from stripping and apologized to the employee. 

“I wanna ride him! He looks ready to get eaten,” she whined and tried to get her hands on the guy, but you dragged her away. “Please.”

“No, [BFFs name], we gotta get you out of here!”

“Can I lend you a hand,” the stranger offered. His smile was charming, and you felt your cheeks heat up. But he was still a stranger. “I won’t bite, promised.”

“She likes it when a guy bites her!” Your best friend exclaimed loudly. “Bite her neck and she’ll come like a … uh… waterfall!” 

“That is enough [BFFs name]. We don’t know him.” You guided your friend out, ignoring that the cocky guy followed you outside.

“Hey, don’t just run off. Give me your number,” he softly said. “I know you just met me, but I’d like to invite you for coffee.”

You sighed deeply. He was a very handsome guy and seemed to be nice. The problem was you fell for nice guys in the past. In the end, they never were nice guys.

“No.”

“Give him your number, babe,” your friend slurred. “Here!” She threw her purse at him. “My code is 6666!” Your friend grinned. “Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. You can call her doll, though. Save her number and call her tomorrow.”

“I like your friend,” he chuckled as you slapped the back of your friend’s head. “Don’t hurt her. She means well.”

“I want her to get laid!” Your friend grinned at the stranger. “I hope you can dick a girl down like there is no tomorrow.”

“Oh, sweets. I will destroy her,” he replied, smirking darkly. “In a good way, of course…”

Five months later you and the stranger you met are going steady.

He’s charming, irresistible, and yes, he loves to destroy you. Only in the best way possible - of course.

“Bucky, why not,” you whine and tug at his wrist. “I promised my mom we would meet up with her for lunch. You can’t cancel now.”

“Babe, I got an important meeting. I’m sorry, but I can’t cancel the appointment. I wanted to go with you, I swear.”

You sniff, and let Bucky wrap you in his arms. “Next time.”

“Next time.”

He kisses your hair and sighs deeply. It’s one of these days. On these days he’s still a caring boyfriend, but a little more distant. 

“I love you,” you whisper, and he kisses your temple. But he doesn’t say it back. Not today. Maybe tomorrow he’ll return it.

“Doll, you gotta see this,” Bucky shows you a picture he took of you while you were sleeping. He smirks at you, making your heart flutter. “You looked so pretty, I had to take a picture.”

“I’m drooling.” You punch his arm. “It’s creepy taking pictures of me while sleeping.” 

“I love you and want to memorize every moment with you.”

Today is a better day. He smiles more and tells you he loves you. “I love you too. Maybe next time you can come with me and finally meet my mom. She’s nice, you know. I want her to see how happy you make me too.”

“Wait…you wanted me to meet your mom?” He furrows his brows. “Shit, did I forget a date? I’m sorry.”

“What? Bucky, did you forget that you told me last week you wouldn’t make it? You said something about an important meeting.”

“Oh, yeah!” He scratches the back of his head. “The meeting. Sorry, this week was hell. I forgot about it. Next time, I’ll be there. Promised, doll.”

“Okay,” you snuggle into his chest. “I hope you don’t take more pictures.”

“I can’t promise anything,” he chirps and pats your back. “I’m really sorry that I forgot about the date with your mom.”

Bucky searches for his phone, and curses under his breath. “Babe, did you see my phone.”

“On the nightstand. I recharged it for you, baby,” you poke your head out from inside the bathroom. “Why don’t you join me in here?” You crook your finger and try to lure him in.

“Sorry, I’m late,” he dips his head to look at you. “I wish I had more time.” Bucky bites his lower lip. “If only I could…”

“You can always take a day off, baby,” you purr, and drop the towel covering your modesty. “If you want me to, I’ll call your boss and tell him you need more time for your girlfriend.”

He runs his hands over his thighs, considering you. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he drops the keys in his hands and cups your face. Bucky kisses you fiercely. He moans into your mouth. “I can’t resist you…”

“Bucky? Baby? Oh my god,” you gasp watching your boyfriend limp inside the living room. He’s got a black eye, and his nose is bleeding. Blood soaked his white shirt, and his knuckles are split and bloody.

“It’s nothing,” he shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have seen me like this. I got into a fight and …” Bucky runs one hand down his face. “You should see the other guy.”

“How did you get into a fight at the office?” You carefully touch his face. “Bucky, tell me what happened. I don’t think you got into a fight over a stapler or paperwork. This looks like you tried to kill someone.”

You grab his hand and lift it. “I’m so sorry…” He sniffs. “I thought…back then it was…shit…you’ll hate me.” Bucky cups your face with both hands, wincing at the sting of his wounds.

“I don’t understand, Bucky. What is going on?” Your heart thunders in your chest. Something is off with Bucky tonight, and you fear it’s worse than split knuckles and a black eye. “Please. You’re scaring me.”

“He should’ve stayed with you. And protect you while I’m away,” he drops his gaze and sniffs again. “I didn’t want him to fall in love with you too.”

“BUCKY, I don’t understand a single thing. Did you lose your mind?” You look at Bucky with teary eyes. “This morning you were so happy, and we made love. Now you look like you got thrown under the bus. Please tell me what happened.”

“He wanted me to keep an eye on you for him.” You scream as Bucky’s spit image steps inside the room. He’s wearing the same suit he wore this morning. 

“No…no…” you chant and step away from Bucky. “This can’t be. No…I…no…” you shake your head. 

“He shouldn’t have fallen for you, or touched you,” Bucky reaches out for you but, you slap his hand away. “It was for your protection. Every time I couldn’t be here, with you, Nick kept you safe.”

“Kept me safe?” You angrily wipe a stray tear away. “Did keeping me safe include fucking me?”

“It was only this once,” Nick hastily says. “I found an excuse to not touch you…” He licks his lips. “This morning you broke my resolve, and we ended up…” Nick shakes his head. “I’m sorry…so sorry, babe. I never wanted you to find out this way.”

“I hate both of you,” you choke out. “And I never want to see any of you again…”

Double the trouble

Tags in reblog.

#nick fowler #bucky barnes #mafia au #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #mafia!nick fowler #bucky barnes x reader #nick fowler x reader #angst

[thezombieprostitute]

Garbage Men - Mafia AU

The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel, including running legitimate businesses, keeping ears to the ground, knowing who to bribe and more.

Curtis Everett

Dream Come True (Arc 1)

Summary: One legitimate business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.

Nightmares (Arc 2)

Part 1

Summary: You and Curtis are having to deal with literal and figurative nightmares while working to make sure the Garbage Men operation runs smoothly.

Asks/Drabbles:

Curtis's Dreams

Reader's Dreams

Rough Day Cure

Relationship Asks - Clothing & Nightly Routine

James Mace

Sparks Fly (Arc 1)

Summary: After working as an engineer for Wilford & Gilliam Trust for several years you find evidence of seedy dealings and burned books. After turning in the evidence you find yourself in danger and seek help. You're taken into the protection of a mob family where you run into your high school best friend, Mace.

Frayed (Arc 2)

Part 1

Summary: There are so many new things happening in your life that the only two things you can count on are your boyfriend, Mace, and that your life almost always in danger.

Asks/Drabbles:

Caught in the Rain

Guilty Pleasure

Ticklish

Relationship Asks - Apologizing and Separation

Nick Fowler

Changing Minds (Arc 1)

Summary: Your long time work acquaintance Nick Fowler offers to take you to a fancy fundraiser as a way of cheering you up. He insists it's only as friends but when he sees you falling into the grasp of someone he knows is no good, he might change his mind on that.

Constant Change (Arc 2)

Part 1

Summary: You and Nick must navigate the new territories of pregnancy and parenting while managing the continued hostility from Clark Kent.

Ask/Drabbles:

Relationship Asks - Initiation, Separation and Nonverbal communication

Steve Rogers

Hummingbird (Arc 1)

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

Dragonfly (Arc 2)

Part 1

Summary: Steve has just about everything he could ever want in life. He's got you, a baby on the way, and a successful Family. No one would dare interfere with that. Right?

Asks/Drabbles:

Hummingbird's Favorites

Kisses

Steve Sees You

Thief AU

Relationship Asks - Love languages - Nonverbal communication and Separation - Sleeping and Cooking

Nonspecific Asks and Drabbles

Honey Pot (Hal Carter)

Kink Matching (Curtis Everett, James Mace, Nick Fowler, Steve Rogers)

Reader Swap (Hal Carter, Nick Fowler)

#mafia au #mob au #Curtis Everett x Reader #Mace x Reader #James Mace x Reader #Nick Fowler x Reader #Steve Rogers x Reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

As the World Turns 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, imbalanced power dynamics, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your new job takes you to new places with lots of new people.

Characters: Nick Fowler, Jonathan Pine, Lloyd Hansen

Note: I know I shouldn't have done this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

When you accepted your new position, you didn’t expect that two days later you would be on your very first business trip. Ever. Like at all!

It’s exciting. It’s not only your first trip overseas for work but your first trip across any border. You’re as happy to get use out of your passport as you are to have the new experiences. You don’t know, however, how much you’ll be able to enjoy any of it. It’s still work after all.

You stand at the luggage belt as your phone vibrates. It’s your boss, Mr. Fowler, once more asking you where you are. The car’s already there. It’s not your fault the elite class flyers got off first and you’re stuck searching for your bags among the sea of coach passengers.

‘Will be there shortly, sir. Just coming through customs.’

It’s a small lie but you don’t think he’ll be impressed to hear you’re struggling to find your bag. It’s not very big but it should be easy to find. A round plastic suitcase in a shade of sunflower you can’t miss. You think it’d be obvious amid the black and black suitcases milling along on the conveyor belt.

You see the plastic slats part and your bag shines bright, like a beacon calling to you. You race forward and grab onto the handle. You accidentally press the button with your thumb so the handle extends and you’re dragged along awkwardly as you struggle to lift it. 

Another passenger approaches to remove his heavy black bag but doesn’t walk away before helping you. You thank him with a smile. He’s older, maybe your grandpa’s age, and he assures you it’s no problem. He walks off and you plant the wheels of your bag straight, swerving around as you follow the signs.

You bring your phone up again and read Mr. Fowler’s next impatient text.

‘Take the cab fare off your per diem.’

Right. You’re not surprised. From what you know of your boss so far, he’s a stickler. He knows what he wants and he doesn’t settle for less. While he can be charming, even accommodating, he can also be terrifyingly stern. One moment he has that smile that makes his eyes twinkle and the next, his jaw is set and danger darkens his features. The very memory of that expression makes you shiver.

You suppose it’s your own fault. You should’ve considered the job description a bit closer. An executive assistant does a lot more than just the typical secretary. The pay itself was proof enough. Can you really complain? The perks include free trips!

You try to stay as positive as you can, ignoring your mother’s voice as it sneaks into the back of your head. She always has something negative to say. She could win the lottery and complain about the trouble of claiming her winnings.

You make your way through the terminal and into the atrium, passing by new arrivals and waiting departures. You check your smart watch, you’ll get in your steps for sure, and hurry as the minutes tick by. You follow the flow outside and find a spot along the pick up area, waving down a taxi as your phone buzzes again.

‘Don’t show up without scotch’.

The message is terse. You can only assume the flight was less than accommodating. You spent your time in coach looking out at the clouds or catching up on the adventures in Westeros. Terribly depressing books but it only makes reality a little less so.

You get into a taxi and ask the driver to take you to a liquor store. He doesn’t seem to understand you. Oh, boy. You pull up Google translate on your phone and speak into it, setting it to translate into the native language. You let the speaker play the text to voice. The driver nods and starts the meter.

Okay, not bad. You’re figuring this out. If anything, Mr. Fowler has to give you points for effort, right? 

You ask the taxi to wait as you run in and find yourself faced with shelves of bottles and cans. This is the hard part, you’re not much of a drinker. With the help of Google, you ask the clerk for a bottle of scotch and pay with the company card. You’re right back out to the taxi.

Everything is so fast, you feel like you’re still catching up. You’re doing things. Every minute matters. You feel important, probably for the first time in your life. No more sitting behind a desk yawning, you’re tired for good reason.

You give the hotel name next and let yourself relax. Just for a little. Your eyes drift to the traffic outside the taxi, the voices all around, the dimming of the sky as the city sets to evening. It’s beautiful and new and wonderful.

The driver lets you off in front of the hotel. You’re greeted by a valet who offers to take your bag. You try to refuse but he insists, so you let him and follow him inside. As you enter, another man approaches.

You’re confused at first. He’s tall, blonde, and dressed as if he’s a businessman visiting on his own sojourn. You look around, thinking he might be headed for someone behind you. No, it’s only you. You turn back and find his blue eyes centered on you as he stops before you.

“Miss, welcome,” he lilts in his refined accent, “may I have your name so we may get you checked in?”

“Oh, yes, thanks, uh, sir. Actually, first, my, er… my boss is here. I think. He must’ve shown up twenty minutes ago. Erm, Mr. Fowler. I have, a oh,” you look down at the bottle in your hands, “I have this for him.”

“Wonderful,” he eyes the bottle, “Izak,” he addresses the valet, “Fowler.”

He takes the bottle from you without resistance. There’s something about his confidence that has you frozen. He hands it to the valet, Izak, and sends him off. You smile and give a nervous chuckle.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you rub the back of your neck.

“That is my job. I’m at your service, miss. Jonathan Pine, manager,” he offers his hand.

You shake it, doing your best to keep a firm grip. His fingers are so long that your hand feels tiny in his. He lets you go as you rescind your hand, crossing one arm over your stomach as you cup your other elbow, playing with the button of your blouse.

“Your name, miss?”

“Oh, duh,” you clutch the front of your blouse and eke out your name.

“Great, this way,” he beckons you with him and leads you to a round desk. He steps behind and types as his blue eyes reflect the screen. “I assume you’re here on business. You mentioned your boss is in another accommodation.”

“Yes, uh, my first business trip,” you almost wiggle with delight, “I’ve never even stayed in a hotel, you know?”

“Well, then I hope your stay is exceptional,” he smiles as he clicks around, giving a thoughtful hum, “allow me to make your first a special one,” he intones, “I’ve upgraded you to a suite.”

“A suite? Oh, but–”

“No additional fee. It will remain at the rate of your previous room,” his eyes flick to you.

“Wow, that’s… do I sound that pathetic?”

“Pathetic? Not at all, miss.”

You chew your lip and sway back and forth, crossing both arms across your chest. You don’t know what to say. He’s so nice that it almost feels patronizing. Or you’re just insecure. 

“Allow me to show you your suite,” he comes out from behind the desk, holding out a small black folio. 

You take it and look inside, two cards and a little insert with tiny text on it. You bring your hands down to fold over your stomach and back up to let him lead you. He struts along with you to the elevator and hits the button. He gestures you in first and follows.

“You haven’t traveled before?” He asks.

“Not really. We used to go camping but not far from home. Then we didn’t go anywhere. I’ve been working since, er, college, so… this is my first chance.”

“Well, the world is vast and not all are so lucky as to venture beyond their front door. It’s truly a privilege,” he says. The doors ding and parts, again, he waits for you to go ahead of him.

You step out and check the folio. You read the number and match it to a door at the far end of the hall. He’s right behind you as you get to the suite. 

“Shall I show you around?” He asks as you stop on either side of the doorframe.

“Erm, sure, why not?” You shrug.

“Might I?” He points to your hands and you give him the folio.

He takes out a card and holds it up, “these can be unfortunately finicky. You must make sure you hold it so,” he shows you how to position it and slides it through the slot beside the handle. The red light turns green and the door unlocks. “Please,” he opens the door and nods you inside.

You enter as he follows. The door slowly closes as he lets it go and he slips the card back into the folio. He puts it on the corner table beside the door and taps it with his fingertips.

“You’ll find the wireless information in there along with the room service details and our continental breakfast times,” he explains, “if you’ve any questions, you may call the front desk.”

“Thank you,” you smile.

“Let me briefly go over the rest of your amenities and I’ll leave you in peace,” he avows as he waves you further inside, “a full bath,” he stops at the doorway to his left, “there are jets built in, rather useful after a long flight.”

You give a polite laugh and he presses on. He guides you through the suite; a kitchenette, a mini bar, a sitting space, a bedroom, a balcony, and a key to the private pool. You thank him again.

He goes back to the door, about to leave but pausing at the door, “if you require anything, you may ask for me. Jonathan, remember.”

“Jonathan,” you repeat.

He nods and steps out into the hall, gently closing the door behind him. You feel another buzz in your pocket. Shoot! Mr. Fowler.

‘Scotch is here. Where are you?’

You cringe and hurry out of the room. You should’ve known better. There was just a lot happening at once. You hurry down the hall and stop short of the elevator. You don’t know where his room is.

‘On my way, sir. Where is your room?’

You key in the message, awkwardly lingering as you wait for his response.

‘Not there. In restaurant. Two minutes.’

You push your head back. You really just want to go back to the room and jump into that giant bed. A full queen to yourself. That’s actual heaven. You answer, affirming your obedience and head for the elevator.

You get down to the lobby and once more find yourself lost. You have that problem, not thinking two steps ahead. As you look around, you see the valet, Izak.

“Hi, uh, is there a restaurant around here?” You ask sheepishly.

“Yes, miss, right through there,” he points towards the rear of the lobby to a wide archway crested with a point.

You thank Izak and scurry across the lobby. You put your phone away as you enter the restaurant and a server approaches you. They ask if you want a table for one and you explain that you’re meeting your boss. She points him out and asks you if you’d like a drink. You assume you won’t be staying for dinner so you pass.

As you near his table, Mr. Fowler doesn’t look up. You stop just across from him and wring your hands. You wait for him to say something but he’s focused on the menu.

“Sorry, sir, I was just checking in–”

“Sit,” he demands.

“Right, thanks,” you sit and grip the edge of the table, “it was very busy at the airport and I had to stop on the way for your scotch–”

“But no time to bring it yourself?” He challenges as he sets the menu down, finally looking at you, “I have a colleague meeting me here shortly.” His eyes dip briefly as he eyes your blouse, “hm, you didn’t change?”

“Like I was saying, sir, I didn’t have a chance yet–”

“Undo your top button,” he waves off your excuses as he sits back and grabs the short glass of scotch in front of him.

“Sir?”

“You look like a nun,” he retorts, “just one button, sweetheart.”

You furrow your brow but pop your top button open. It doesn’t show very much but it still feels wrong. You sit back and peer around the restaurant. The din is quiet and the lightning soft and warm.

“Um, so, you want me to stay for dinner?”

“You leave when I dismiss you,” he says curtly.

“Yes, sir, I understand,” you reply.

“Stop fidgeting,” he clucks, “try to sit still.”

“Yes, sir,” your voice shrinks.

He sighs and stares at you, “smile, okay? This is an important dinner.”

“Right,” you force a smile, cheeks trembling. 

All the excitement, all your former optimism, slowly slakes away. You get the churning anxiety in your stomach. The same sensation that kept you in bed a few minutes past your alarm. You’re only a few days in, you can do this.

“Fowler,” a voice booms across the restaurant as footfalls approach.

Your boss stands and you scramble to do the same. He shakes the hand of another man as you turn to face his acquaintance. It must be his aforementioned colleague.

“Hansen,” Fowler counters as their handshake becomes a battle, “about time.”

“Pfft, you were always boring. You gotta get out, buddy. Especially around here. I’ll give you a few names. There’s a sweet girl down at the spa–” the man, Hansen coughs, stopping himself midsentence as his eyes fall to you, “oh? And this is?”

“New assistant.” Fowler sits and pushes the tails of his jacket back.

You give your name as Hansen puts his hand out again. Instead of shaking yours, he takes it and kisses it in a very old-fashioned gesture, though something about his demeanour is sleazy. 

“Lloyd,” he winks as he clings to your hand, “Mr. Hansen is so boring. Makes me sound like an old man.”

You smile and repeat his name.

“What happened to Bennet?” He turns and claims the third chair. You lower yourself, content to be peripheral to their reunion.

“Gone,” is all Fowler says as his eyes meet yours, “so, what’re you drinking, Hansen?”

#nick fowler #jonathan pine #lloyd hansen #dark nick fowler #dark jonathan pine #dark lloyd hansen #dark!nick fowler #dark!jonathan pine #dark!lloyd hansen #nick fowler x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #jonathan pine x reader #fic #dark fic #as the world turns #dark!fic #series #au #multifandom #the gray man #the night manager #the 355

[mrs-illyrian-baby]

Mob Rules | Mafia AU | Reader x ...everyone

Bucky and Steve have banned girlfriends in the gang, but they're not cruel, they know their crew works hard and needs to let off steam sometimes...and that's when your hard work starts.

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content, language and themes now and throughout this AU

Follow @illyrianlibrary for updates!

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

Bucky - Cockwarming

The room was completely silent. Each of the assembled crew around the table staring at Cap and Sarge. 

You didn’t really want anyone else in the room, you had been quite happy, sprawled on the large blanket under the table, moving between your new masters in turn. You had been licking a long stripe up Bucky’s hard cock when the first knock sounded, jolting you from your soft state into one of panic. 

Tucking himself away, Bucky had shouted ‘enter’ allowing a seeming herd of other people into the room. 

Sensing your nervousness, Steve had placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb rubbing against your bottom lip until you sucked the digit into your mouth, once more content to rest between them while they carried out their business. 

“Is this real, or a trick?” The man’s voice was like thunder, loud but clear. You couldn’t tell who was talking yet, only seeing a series of shoes, combat boots and a few loafers, one pair of battered trainers…you closed your eyes, sucking harder on Steve’s thumb and focussing on the polished shoes in front of you, one brown pair, one black pair, Steve and Bucky, Sir and Sarge, that was all you needed to worry about.  

“It’s not a trick, Thor.” Steve rolled his eyes, “we know we brought that rule in, no girlfriends.” 

A disgruntled murmur ran around the room, none of the men willing to vocalise how frustrated and angry they’d been since. 

Bucky slammed his palm onto the table and the room went quiet again, you jumped clinging to his calf, but remained where you were. 

“We brought the rule in, now we’re fixing it, but only if you're polite.” He growled.

“C’mon out, Bambi.” Steve and Bucky pushed their chairs back and Steve held out a hand to you, the ring on his pinky finger flashing in the afternoon light. 

Placing one hand slowly in front of the other you crawled out from underneath the table, one hand on Steve’s thigh, one on Bucky’s. The latter reached down, cupping your chin in his large, tattooed hand and pinched your cheeks. 

“Good girl, now say hello to the crew.” 

You turned, kneeling high enough that your head and shoulders peeked over the top of the walnut table, resting your chin on one hand you raised the other in a wave, “hello.” You whispered, nervously eyeing the array of men and women sitting around the long conference table.

You’d been worried ever since Cap’ and Sarge had informed you that your world would be expanding outside of their closed off penthouse, but now you felt that familiar throb of longing deep between your legs. They were handsome, your masters’ friends, so perhaps this wouldn’t be so awful after all. 

Bucky tucked a palm under your elbow and helped you stand, your feet wobbly after your time spent kneeling at his feet. Your heels tipped you forward slightly and you crossed your arms behind your back to steady yourself, pushing your chest out at the same time. A collective intake of air rippled around the room and, you supposed, that was to be expected given your scanty attire. 

Steve had wanted you to make a good impression and had chosen a soft pink babydoll with plenty of ribbons and bows. You certainly felt like a doll once they’d finished dressing you up but you loved it, loved that you didn’t have to make any decisions anymore. You let your wide eyes take in the room again, the hungry looks in everyone’s eyes. 

“Bambi, the family -” Steve gestured to the assembled group, “family, Bambi.” 

There was a chorus of replies, hellos and good mornings before the room went quiet again.

“Well, we don’t have much work to do today, so -” Bucky looked up at you, his hand on your hip protectively, “get to know everyone, okay. Take your time.” His smile was soft, but dropped from his face when he looked back at the rest of the family, “as for you, be polite.” Bucky glared around the room, “and remember to play nicely.” 

Vote on the next part HERE!

#Mafia AU #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Loki #Natasha Romanoff #ari levinson #Nick Fowler #joaquin torres #Thor #Mickey Henry #Steven Grant #marc spector #jake lockley #Sam Wilson #Andy Barber #valkyrie #Jake Jensen #wanda maximoff #Frank Castle #Maria Hill #Kraven the Hunter #Colin Shea #Max Sharper

[biteofcherry]

Sweet and stained

Sweet and stained

soft dark Nick Fowler x female reader

a Hades/Persephone inspired AU set in modern times, with an implied mafia background

summary: You live in the sun and blooms, under your mother's protective wing (or is it cage?). When Nick Fowler strolls into your life, he brings a wave of thrilling fresh with the darkness that follows him.

warnings: soft!dark Nick Fowler; sort of dub-con; kidnapping; manipulation; light corruption kink; mentioned breeding kink; a bit of smutty scenes included;

Author's Note: This is a trope that won the poll for my birthday celebration story. Honestly, the way I imagined this fic at first is completely different from how it turned out. Less sharp than my usual style and more of a gloomy, start-of-the-autumn poetics. Still, I hope you'll enjoy!

You never knew black could shimmer so brilliantly, even though you saw its various shades in petals of unique flowers. The night sky’s ink was dotted with sparkling dust, too, after all. Yet it was only now that you noticed the luminosity of dark, as your head tilted back on the softest pillows and your gaze roamed the supple garlands of the black canopy.

Dark interior, which scared you the first time you took a step inside, now engulfed you in heady warmth. Like a sip of spicy hot chocolate, so rich and thick it coats your tongue and fills your belly with a bitter bite to its general sweetness.

There’s more spice than sweetness to your captor, but you began realizing he remained the only one to treat you with softness. As if he truly cared.

Perhaps he did? 

Maybe the charm and patience he showed you at the beginning were as true as the ruthless possessiveness with which he bound you to him. 

You had years to find that out. Decades at his side, to unravel the scary mystery that was Nick Fowler.

Your husband.

His face above you, as he sat beside your sweaty, spent body, shone a serene glow. His eyes a shade of clear lake, with monsters luring in the depths. 

You still feared him, but Nick gave you enough proof that he wouldn’t hurt you. 

Even if his plan for you was weaved out of nefarious intentions. 

He set aside the glass of water which he brought to your lips a moment ago, soothing your throat that dried out from how much you screamed for him. 

It’s for the best that you couldn’t speak at the moment, your breath still ragged; since you didn’t know what you’d say to him after all the debauched things he did to you. Post sex pillow talk was never your forte, but it was even more awkward after willingly spreading your legs for a man who ripped you from your life as one plucked a flower from the ground.  

Silently, you watched Nick once again pick a crystal bowl from the nightstand, a shiny barrow of pomegranate seeds peeking above the rim. 

He devoured some moments before he indulged in your dripping pussy.  

Seeds glistened ruby richness on Nick’s fingers as he brought them to your lips; his own mouth stained with the juice. He left traces of the red sweetness on your thighs and mound, mixing pomegranate flavor with your combined spend. 

Your lips wrapped around his digits as he spilled fruity grains on your tongue. One of your hands rested on your belly, just below your navel. 

Nick has repeatedly filled you with seeds that night, not only those of a pomegranate. 

It made you tremble. His intent was clear; not only shown in relentless, deep thrusts, but dark and dirty words whispered into your ear. 

Your body shouldn’t react so eagerly to his plans, arching and spasming in whorish acceptance as he ordered you to take it; as he fucked you through one climax into another, telling you of his heir swelling in your womb. 

Disgust should have filled you, instead of arousal. Because as much as you believed Nick was going to dote on you, his owning of your body in every sense was driven by revenge. 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

With the wide rim of the sunhat on your head limiting your view and your focus on the pots dancing away from you (the wind that day was wickedly playful, knocking over the smaller pots every time you righted them), you weren’t paying much attention to your surroundings. 

People walked past, some gleefully talking about plants, others arguing on what was or wasn’t needed in their garden. On a sunny day like that, Demeter Gardens had as many customers as a fun fair on weekends. 

The staff was really busy on days like this, doubling their efforts, because it was usually when your mother chose to grace the place with her radiant presence - radiant to the customers, an absolute harpy to her workers. 

There were many traits you admired about your mother. The most inspiring was the fact she was a barely out of teens single mother who managed to raise you and start a business that flourished into a state known brand. 

She had her faults, too. Like the high expectations and harsh tongue when someone didn’t meet her standards.

It went both for her employees and her daughter. 

Working with plants soothed you, so at least your future as the heiress to the empire your mother wanted you to take over didn’t look as grim. Even if some evenings you cried into a pillow, because it wasn’t what you dreamt of at all.

Growing under her wing, you didn’t get much of a chance to explore what exactly you could dream of, what called out to you, but you simply knew that running a gardening business wasn’t it. 

You never dared to tell your mother that. Enough times have you suffered her cruel words, snide remarks regarding anything that strayed even a step away from her grand plans. Demeter had ambition rivaling many moguls and she poured it onto you as well. The only praise you got was when you won any sort of competition, or mentioned business plans. 

Your mother may have only spiteful words to say about your absent father, but she possessed the same self-centered core as him. Rotten and unkind. 

How plants flourished under her hands, you had no idea. 

Though she didn’t spend much time with them anymore, leaving it to people who really liked working with plants. You liked the peace and quiet it offered, which is why you spent almost every day at the gardening center. 

“Excuse me?” A smooth male voice startled you.

Not only with how sudden and close it was, but also because it was so unusual in a place mostly filled with cheery, loudly speaking families or couples. 

You turned your head, pulling the rim of your sunhat up with your dirty fingers, so you could see the person better. 

Your gaze met a pair of blue eyes, with a silvery gray swirl in them, that chilled you like an autumn rain pattering on your skin. A shadow of stubble along a chiseled jaw, which would feel under your fingertips like frosty needles of the first hoarse coating November leaves. Subtle, pink lips curved in a smile, but its charm didn’t fully cover the sharp threat of teeth that could sink in ‘till blood spilled like in spooky nightmares of autumnal season.

This man looked like the stillness of dying nature, engulfed in fog and chilling to the bones. A dark spirit amongst the lush greenery and blooming life that stretched all around. 

And yet he was more beautiful than any man you ever laid eyes on. 

“Yes?” You swallowed nervously, mostly to wet your suddenly dry throat. “Can I help you?”

“I’m sure you can,” he said softly, his voice a brush of cool silk. 

“See, I usually hire garden designers to take care of any greenery around my business buildings, but the one at my actual home? I wanted to work on it myself.”

“Understandable.” You smiled at him. “Having your own garden is a personal thing. Working on it helps you connect with the place that will be your oasis.”

“The problem is, I quickly realized I have zero idea what I’m doing. But I’m a stubborn bastard, who’s still adamant on chasing what he set his eyes on.” He sighed dramatically, making you laugh.

“Anyway-” he shook his head- “I’m Nick. Please, help me out?” 

You gave him your name, taking his hand when he outstretched it. His fingers were calloused, though it’s the cool brush of metal of his rings that sent tiny spikes of sensation through you. 

“What exactly do you need my help with, Nick?” You took off your sunhat and squinted slightly as the sunlight soaked your vision. 

“My tastes are… unique.” You knew he spoke about aesthetic preferences, but couldn’t help hearing the double meaning behind it. Especially with the sensual flick of his tongue over his bottom lip.

“I’m mostly out the whole day,” Nick continued explaining, “coming home only in the evening. Which is when I wish to spend most time in the garden. To relax and enjoy its secret beauty.”

“You want night bloomers.” You guessed, grinning ear to ear.

Flowers blooming in the evening and through the night were one of your favorites. There was something about them that called out to you. Perhaps the fact they were overlooked under the radiant sun, hiding their secret beauty to flourish in shadows, when no one could judge them. 

There was also the aura of mystery about them, pairing so well with your fondness for gloomy and gothic stories. 

“See? I knew I was asking the right person for help.” Nick mirrored your smile; his made you a little weak in the knees. 

“You have to get the Moonflower, of course.” You moved and gestured for Nick to follow you, as you led him to the far end of the center. 

“I have to?” Nick chuckled, matching your step to walk beside you rather than behind you. 

Shoulder to shoulder with him, you suddenly realized he was taller than at first sight. Much warmer than what his dark aura suggested, too. And his scent was a toe-curling reminder of spicy mulled wine sipped by the fireplace.

“Yes!” You nodded, brushing your fingertips along the plants you passed on your way. “Moonflower is my favorite. It’s similar to the morning glory. You won’t see its full beauty now, but I assure you it never disappoints.”

When you finally reached the corner with potted plants - from smallest to those quite grown already - Nick bent over to examine it closely. He gently trailed the heart-shaped leaves, then plucked the yellow card attached to one of the thin stems. 

“Moonflower, or moon vine,” he read aloud, “is a night-blooming morning glory that opens in the evening and stays full until morning.”

Nick straightened and turned to you, gaze slowly dragging up your body. When his eyes met yours, there was a glint of something cold and dangerous in them. As if for a split of a second you saw a flash of instrumental triumph.

“Opens in the evening and stays full until morning,” he repeated the words, his voice dropping an octave and filling your belly with unexpected heat. “I like it already.” 

“Uh, well-” you squeezed the rim of the sunhat in your grasp- “Yes, see, I told you. You’ll like it even more when it blooms in your garden.”

“I know I will.” Nick affirmed solemnly. 

Something about his gaze, or perhaps it was the set of his jaw, quickened your pulse with a warning that his intent was more than just a harmless flirting. There was this tinge of danger about him, fizzing on the tip of your tongue with a spicy aftertaste. 

If you licked his skin, the cold darkness may swallow you, but everything inside you would set aflame. 

Apprehension tingled inside your chest, like wind chimes’ pearly tune that lured with their woeful longing. Reason whispered to take a step back, but feet moved forward on their own, drawn to the inner flame that may as well be straight from hell. 

It was hard to break eye contact with Nick, but you feared if you didn’t look away he’d mesmerize you into selling your soul. And your body. Body which awoke with yearning to have his fingertips trail along your skin the same way he touched the plants.

Somehow you managed to turn away. The sun’s warmth returned to your cheeks, caressing your face with soothing lightness the second you stepped away from Nick’s gloomy aura.

“You should also get night blooming Jasmine. It smells so sweet.” You rambled about plants, clutching onto the topic like it was a lifebuoy keeping you afloat from sinking into fascinating, but scary depths that were Nick’s eyes. 

“And Angel’s Trumpets!” With your presentation, excitement returned. 

You were helping create something personal, something so very unique. However Nick chose to use your advice, you had a blissful sense of creating something yourself. A garden that may as well be yours, since it catered to your aesthetic and needs as well. 

Nick ordered so many of the plants you listed that not only did you run out of stock, but had to set up a delivery from another center. You weren’t sure how big Nick’s garden was, but considering the amount of plants it had to be a king-sized land. 

The thought of roaming it in the late evening, with dusk hiding hues of purple and gold in a shroud of ink black, and moonlit petals opening up for the life of creatures of the night; it made your heart yearn.

You’d love to wander through that garden. 

For someone who ran a gardening empire, your mother kept you both locked in a metal and glass skyscraper, in a two-floor penthouse with (amazing, but contained) view of the city. 

It was a cage. 

As you watched Nick walk away after he paid in advance for the order, though he took with him some chilling sense of danger, you envied his freedom to simply walk away from the sun and the blooms. 

Many would be jealous of you, you were aware of that. Living among lush greenery and constant sun seemed wonderful. It was to an extent. But this pristine, spring and summer only land, didn’t allow difference. There was no real room for unusual, dark undertones of wicked hearts that would love to have wild mushrooms spread over their lawn instead of snobby hydrangeas. 

When a cooling cloud shielded you from the scorching sun, coming along with Nick as he returned the next week, you felt like breathing freely for the first time since he walked away. 

This time he asked for fruit trees which he wanted to scatter among other types. The idea immediately struck you as unique, making your heart jump. 

Most of the time people divided their gardens - strict lines and areas for vegetables, separating them from decorative flowers. Mixing them up seemed chaotic, but so wonderful. What a surprise to walk through gemstone garlands of wisteria to find juicy peaches at arm’s reach. Or to tread through ferns and moonflowers to discover gooseberry bushes hidden amongst them. 

When Nick came on a third week, your excitement at his presence and news of his garden overpowered any sense of reason that kept you at a certain distance with him. 

And when he mentioned that keeping a routine and being at the center on the same day, same hour every week could be dangerous. 

“Someone could watch you, learn your schedule and plan how to steal you, Moonflower.” 

Having Nick call you Moonflower - the word rolling out on his tongue in a hum of wind, chilling to the bone, but igniting that deep-soul yearning - stirred feelings that overpowered the warning. 

Or maybe you started living for that rush of thrill Nick’s shadow elicited. The only spot of darkness allowed in your life. Enriching it thus. 

Still, fear resurfaced with tentacles of cold wrapping around you and plucking you from the sunny spot in broad daylight as you trotted to work the week after. On the same day as usual, with a bounce to your step as thirst for Nick’s brand of addictive flavor parched your throat. 

The car was black; a polished, obsidian arrowhead spearing the sheet of morning light. The engine’s sound more the growl of a prowling beast than the roar of an unhinged monster. 

Despite the speed, it stopped gracefully at the curb, cutting off your route. Nick’s silhouette stunned you as he exited the car; the blue-green depth of his eyes darker than when he walked along with you through blooming alleys. 

A smile didn’t have a chance to spread on your lips when his hand covered your mouth, the other arm wrapping around you. 

You screamed when he dragged you inside the car, but calloused fingers stifled the sound effectively. Wet tinkle of your cries reverberated against the metal of the rings adorning Nick’s fingers. 

Pleading eyes, so full of unanswered questions and fear, didn’t cut through the veil of composure. One had no chance begging their life out of death’s grip and Nick’s hold on you was a finality set in stone, as if the grim reaper came to harvest your soul to lead it to undying gardens for the rest of eternity. 

“No need for tears, Moonflower.” Nick took his hand from your mouth as the car sped away.

His touch traveled down your shaking arm, harsh fingers delivering surprisingly comforting caress. He took your hand in his and brough your palm to his mouth, kissing softly each knuckle. 

“I’ll make you a queen and treat you as such. No harm will ever be done to you.” 

“You kidnapped me,” you pointed out, voice quiet and quivering, though you bravely held his gaze. “That’s quite harmful.” 

“It’s only a means to avoid meddling of forces that would otherwise keep you away from me.” Nick rested his head back against the seat. “From what I found out about you, they’ve quashed you enough.”

“You know nothing about me, or my life!” You huffed, squirming back into the corner, your back against the side door.

You were never a physical fighter and Nick made no move to grip or hurt you other than pulling you into the car, so you didn’t attack him. You also doubted you had much of a chance of earning anything beside exhaustion and bruises. 

It was pitiful to admit, but you never fought anything or anyone beside the dragons in your head. The rebellion and storm were caged within your chest, mind full of words you wanted to scream at your mother, your father, the whole world. But you never did it. Never felt secure enough in your strength to cut those ties. 

“I know you’re dedicated and smart, finished on top of your class, gaining a degree that you never wanted to have in the first place.” Nick replied calmly.

His unperturbed composure was as much soothing as resonating with your usual behavior. Though you sensed that his limits weren’t pushable. If it came to it, his retaliation to being crossed would be severe. Lethal even. 

You envied that power. 

You wanted that power.

“You have passion for creativity and you are a fucking brilliant survivor.” Those words were spoken with admiration; a brilliant foam lighting up the sea storm of Nick’s irises. 

“You don’t love gardening as a business. I doubt you’re even interested in actual gardening work. But you see and love plants, their uniqueness, the details of them. You like their beauty, even the unusual ones. You’re an artist, Moonflower.”

Your heart burst with an intermixture of colorful emotion - a hail of fireworks against the black depth that is your caged life. 

“Artists should never be shackled into expectations.” 

“Yet you took me, because you expect something from it,” you retorted bitterly. 

“I expect nothing beyond you being by my side.” Nick’s fingers circled one of your wrists, thumb pressing against your pulse. “And strengthening the power of my empire.” 

“And how am I supposed to do that?” There was nothing of value that you could give him. Did he hope for a dowry and connections from your father? 

“Just by being with me.” He shifted, crowding you against your little safety corner. “Coming home to you would sweeten every hard day, knowing that I ripped something most precious from the one who took everything from my family.”

Comforting spices of his scent conflicted with the shadows he shrouded you in, painting a picture of a fairy tale that’s twisted enough that it shouldn’t be enjoyable. Yet struggling against the thorny veins of Nick’s plan seemed to have the opposite effect, pushing you further into forests of unknown thrills. 

“So I’m a vengeance plan?” You’d prefer it if your voice didn’t betray the disappointment, but it was too late to take back that undertone now. 

“Vengeance doesn’t mean burning the world down. That’s too simple and holds no ongoing effect.” Nick’s mouth curved in a scythe of dangerously alluring smirk, his eyes darkening. “Phoenixes rise from the ashes of burnt kingdoms. I rose from it.”

“My type of vengeance is to flourish on the fertile fields of my enemy’s broken ambitions.”

You believed Nick’s every word - that he had the resilience and endurance to build himself from whatever ruin his opponents left him with. It honed him, like hell fire does an indestructible blade. 

Many would use that lethal edge to cut the throats of all enemies. But Nick’s revenge wasn’t to bring short term pain and wipe out the others, he wanted them to drown in their suffering, to stretch it out plucking petal after petal of their lush empires. 

“You, Moonflower-” he skimmed his fingers along your arm and up the column of your throat- “are my prosperity. My core to thrive.”

“Binding you to me and allowing you to bloom into a woman you always wished to be, whatever form that may take,” Nick loosely curled his fingers around your neck, “will make me happy for I know you’re a brilliant gem. But I won’t hide that it will also crush the rotten heart of my enemy.”

“Seeing you at my side, growing along me and with me-” something about that particular choice of words unfurled heat in your core, like the time he mentioned flowers staying full-

“-will keep the flame of anger and pain consuming her daily.”

“Her?” you suddenly blinked, moving your legs slightly to alleviate the pressure that uncomfortably grazed your folds. 

“My mother?” You stared at Nick in bewilderment. “She’s your enemy?” 

Nick chuckled, though you weren’t sure if it was at your astonishment or the squirmy movement of your body which he noticed. He leaned closer still, knees brushing against yours. Where the fabric of your summer dress rolled up on your thighs, the fine fabric of his suit pants grazed your skin. 

“Your mother may present herself as the survivor against all odds and she is very determined, I’ll give her that. She also became heartless in her need to improve her life and show the world she doesn’t need help, ripping the fortune of others to build herself.” 

“She stole from you?” There wasn’t much shock in your response. After all, you knew the backstage face of the gardening queen; the truth behind the sunny smile of the nature-loving new age goddess. 

“From my family.” Nick gritted his teeth at the mention. “They took her pregnant under their roof, taught her family secrets of maintaining lush flowers. I was barely four when you were growing in her belly, but I remember her always slapping my hand away when I wanted to touch it, to feel a tiny baby miracle kicking.”

He didn’t say it, but you began to understand the part of possessiveness. The touch he didn’t withdraw an inch once he was able to reach for you freely. Something he was denied, now he ripped it away for himself. 

“First she stole the knowledge, then farms and fields.” Nick continued, his voice heavy with ice cold anger. “Came with fancy lawyers and bulldozers, chasing my family away from the scrap of land and the mounds of soil that my grandparents brought from Romania.”

You remembered one time your mother mentioned something about the secret being in the soil, a harpy reflection to her smile when she did. 

“My mother’s heart couldn’t take it. My father fled to Romania, finding the only solace in a small square of land where he grew a new hybrid of flowers. Named it after my mother.” 

Nick paused for a moment, his eyes boring into yours. A few breaths and the rage surpassed, leaving the lull of oceanic waves in his eyes. They rocked you as you held his gaze; your body attuning to the pulse of crackling fireplace on a dead cold autumn night that was Nick’s aura. 

“I’m not a gardener myself,” Nick shrugged, easing his free hand up your leg. “But I know how to plow through hard and high grounds. I’ve made myself a different kind of empire, though I always remained respectful of nature and plants, as my parents did.” 

You didn’t even feel him grip you any harder, yet somehow Nick managed to switch your positions in a blink of an eye - pulling you onto his lap. 

One of his hands remained at your throat, thumb gently stroking up and down along your pulsing vein. 

“You’ll be my queen. You’ll give me heirs.” It wasn’t a proposition, but a declaration of decision set in stone. “I’ll give you the freedom and power you so desperately crave.”

“What do you know of my cravings?” You hoped to challenge his confidence, to fight against the tendrils of magnetic pull that weaved around your limbs. 

“I know you turned my way like a plant does seeking the sun,” Nick’s hand slid beneath your dress. “Keeping so close, coming even closer each time, like an addict hopes to lick a single fleck of whatever gets him high.” 

Cool rings pressed into your skin, spiking your heart rate into a paradoxical pasodoble between desire and trepidation. Just like the nights you used your own fingers to the image of Nick fucking you in the night garden. 

“I know each time you thought I was coming to visit, you wore a shorter dress.” His fingers on your thigh inched further up. “This one today? If I met you inside the gardening center and you’d bend over to show me moss arrangements, I’d get a peek of your ass.” 

He did get that peek. 

When he bent you over his bed that night. After having you sign your name on all the legally (illegally too, undoubtedly) binding documents as a paid, stoic-faced registrar officiated your wedding. The ink was deep red, as blood that one spills for the devil. 

Red was also the wine Nick brought to your lips in a crystal glass. The rich, thick taste of it was a bland mist compared to the burning magma of Nick’s lips against yours, molting away the taste of your previous life as he sealed your contract. 

One hand on the nape of your neck, holding you in place as he fed you his sinful tongue, the other buried beneath your sundress. Firm, relentless fingers eliciting tangy, warm rain from between your thighs; watering the soil of the garden filled with plants that you picked. That you loved and Nick provided for you. 

He made you mark the land as yours, as he marked you as his. Your voice an enchanted cry of spell that was Nick’s name. 

Then he took you to the bedroom - the heart of the underworld kingdom. 

Though the dark interior sent a ripple of unease down your spine at first; it was like stepping into a cold, mountain stream after days of hiking in blinding sun. Then the jewel undertones of onyx and cuprite engulfed you. Shimmering black curtains of the canopy parted its wings for you, as Nick led you to the bed. 

You never strayed from dirt, but it only stained your hands and clothes as you worked with soil. The dirt spilling from Nick’s mouth as he took you seemed to twist your body into inhuman arches of pleasure, reshaping your mind so it became greedy for the sizzling impulses his filthy words elicited.

Tightest cunt.

Delicious hole. 

Breedable pussy.

Mine.

Tears trickled down your cheeks - a salty passage from a girly life of obedient silence into empowered if dark womanhood. Briny dew altered into shy sweetness as your moans stretched, tears turning into those of overwhelming pleasure. 

Nick showered you with it. With his tongue and fingers; with his cock that filled you with girth and the precious spent he cursed to take root in your womb. 

He led you like a queen, just like he promised, once you were able to stand on your trembling legs after hours of being both worshiped and owned. A silk robe in a color of a red so dark it might as well be woven from arterial blood floated around your frame as Nick took you into the garden. 

His fingers intertwined with yours. His pace adjusted to yours, not once rushing or slowing you down. 

Focused on admiring the beauty of silvery moonflowers and creamy bells of Angel’s Trumpets, you didn’t notice Nick’s eyes were only on you. 

#biteofcherry's birthday banquet #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x female reader #nick fowler x you #nick fowler imagine #nick fowler fic #hades x persephone AU #my writing #sweet and stained

[supercap2319]

Y/N struggled against his bonds as he looked up at the men watching him intensely. One was smirking and the other one was frowning. "You know I've seen where this kind of stuff heads in fanfiction and porn. The victim gets all hot and horny with the two villain-daddy type bad guys. Oh, the cliché."

Lloyd Hansen smirks. "Oh, someone has a very interesting fantasy. Maybe you'd like us to make it a reality for you? What do you say, Nicky? Feel like helping him out before we torture him?"

Nick Fowler looks at Y/N and takes a drink of his bourbon before he walks towards him, a lustful and crazy look in his blue eyes as Y/N whimpers with a small smile.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #dark stucky x reader #alternate universe #AU Dark Stucky #stucky x male reader #steve x bucky #steve x bucky x male reader #lloyd hansen #lloyd x nick #nick fowler #Sebastian x chris #chris evans #sebastian stan #marvel mcu #the gray man #the 355

[riricitaa]

now this is a fight scene that I'd like to watch 😌

#hoping it would go somewhere else 😉 #stucky #alternate universe #stucky au #stucky alternate universe #stevebucky #stevebucky au #stevebucky alternate universe #stucky edits #stucky gifs #stevebucky edits #stevebucky gifs #my edits #my gifs #my aus #mine #nick fowler x lloyd hansen

[sgt-seabass]

How would Nick react in clockwork au if puppy was blearily saying James’ name in her sleep?

𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

✧˚ · . Nick wants all of you. And he will do whatever it takes to claim your soul.

pairing — mob boss!prime alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader w/c — 1.9k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. AU masterlist. listening to — ♫sleepless warnings —general dark elements (dark AU), a/b/o dynamics, manipulation. a/n — thank you for the ask and interest in the AU! i hope you enjoy. jessica chastain is not a representative of the readers looks i just wanted a gif of nick kissing a forehead lol. not beta read, we die like men.

The first time Nick heard it, he thought it was ghosts whispering that damned name in his ear.

The second time Nick heard it, he realised it was a scarier reality than phantoms.

You were calling for James in your sleep again, an occurrence that happened regularly.

Even after all the work Nick had put into making you his, there was still that subconscious part of you that held onto the past. Even though you smiled at him in your waking hours, someone else had a space in your heart.

It wasn’t like it was unexpected. Nick knew he would be crazy to assume you would have no residual feelings for your lost life. But it still hurt. His omega, calling for someone else.

He wondered what you dreamt. Did you dream of James in a world where he survived? Or were they memories of the past? Did he treat you well? Were you happy?

There was a quirk in your lips, a slight sway of your hips. Were you dancing with him?

Nick considered calling Steve. Doctor Kemp always seemed to have a way of making omegas comply, plus he was one of his greatest allies. But Nick knew that the heavy-handed approach wouldn’t be appropriate here. While Steve’s suggestion of having other alphas use you worked to break you down beautifully, accessing a soul was a task that required a delicate touch.

Slipping from the bed, Nick left you in your peaceful slumber, dreaming of the man you would never have. In nothing more than black sweatpants and a navy sweater, he sat in his chilly office.

For a while, he just kept the lights off and pondered.

If his younger self could see him now, he wondered what he’d think. This was certainly not the life Nick had intended to lead.

But the world was cruel, and so he became crueller. To escape hardship, he became the creator of it. A devil walking the earth. 

Around you, though, he wanted to be good to you. He would never forget when he heard you laugh for the first time. Nick had accidentally tickled your sides while brushing past you, and the sound that came from you was glorious.

Nick sighed, pouring himself a scotch from the decanter. He’d burn the world, but keep you safe always.

After he’d finished his glass, the familiar burn of liquor pooling in his belly, Nick turned to the only other person he trusted the opinion of.

Hal Carter. The alpha worked on Ari’s ranch. While Ari bred omegas using alpha studs, Hal trained them and kept them calm. He was gentle. Those girls were taken well cared of, which was to be expected when they needed to produce pups.

It was an art how Hal could smile and exude calming energy to those around him. His words were always smooth like silk, rolling off his tongue so naturally you can’t help but listen. It helped the omegas stay calm, and they all trusted him. He was still one of the bad guys; all the alphas in his circle were. But he was the best of the bad. Scott Huffman, the one who would take Ari’s bred pups in and raise them on his ranch, he was a close second.

Within thirty minutes of texting him, Hal turned up on the mansion’s doorstep. The sun was barely rising, only subtle hues of gold beginning to grow.

“Thanks for coming so early,” Nick ushered Hal inside, bringing him to the office while the rest of the home remained in a dream state.

“I normally get up by dawn to go hunting anyway, s’no trouble.” Nonchalant as ever, Hal sat himself down in one of the office armchairs in his green plaid shirt and blue jeans.

Nick poured himself another scotch, plopping two ice cubes into the crystal glass. “Want a drink?”

Hal raised a brow, scoffing. “Unless it’s orange juice, no. I ‘ain’t drinking.”

“I can do that,” Nick said, disappearing from the room and returning with a tall glass of juice, a slight shudder of nervousness in his hand when he gave it to Hal.

There was a rawness in the air, as if Nick wasn’t playing a game. He was putting his whole deck of cards on the table for Hal to see. It was hard to trust, but Nick didn’t have anywhere else to turn.

Nick sat in the armchair opposite Hal, swirling the liquid in his glass, and Hal quirked his head. “Look, as much as I love catching up with you, why did you ask me here so urgently? Is something wrong?”

Nick went through the long explanation of your past, how you came into his care, and how you were acting now. Hal listened attentively, face staying blank as the horrors were laid bare. After explaining, Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I want her to dream of me. Dream of her alpha.”

“So, what you’re telling me is you’ve killed her alpha, kidnapped her, had her gang fucked, chased her, and choked her until she passed out, yet you expect her to dream of you?”

There was a beat of silence before Hal spoke again. “Do you really act like her alpha? She’s not a toy, Nick. And she’s not just a pet. You have to be gentle.”

“I don’t know how to be gentle,” Nick sneered, crossing his arms defensively. 

“Bullshit. Every alpha has a gentle instinct deep down. Be the alpha your sister and mother would have wanted you to become.”

Nick growled and stood, throwing the glass at the wall behind Hal’s head, the crystal shattering into a million shards across the dark hardwoods. It was ballsy bringing up his family. The other alpha flinched slightly, but he wasn’t afraid.

Nick puffed his chest, gritting his teeth so hard they were ready to shatter. “That’s a cruel thing to say. You’re pushing it, Hal.”

“It is cruel. But it’s what ‘ya needed to hear. The world is fucked, but her world doesn’t have to be. You’re the one bringing that upon her. You want her to dream of you? Give her memories good enough to dream about. You’ve broken her down, and done the harsh things you needed to. Now you need to build her back up. Without that affection, she will just continue to crumble time and time again. Don't you want to see her smile?”

“More than anything,” Nick grumbled, sitting back in his chair with a hardened expression. He wanted to feel your happiness through the bond. It was like a drug.

Hal drank the last of his juice, setting the glass down gently on the side table. “Then, there you go. Just work to make her smile for you more. Life is good with a happy omega, Nick.”

“She hates what I do, though. And I can’t - and won’t - change that.”

“Then make her existence with you good enough to outweigh that.” Hal proposed the idea like it was easy. Just treat you right, and it would all fall into place.

But was it really that easy?

The chase had changed you. You were more receptive to Nick and seemed more content overall. But he could still see the flickers of fear that lay dormant, ready to wake at any time. And James— Well. Your subconscious hadn’t let him go yet.

Perhaps Hal was right. Maybe you were broken enough that you’d adapt to this life with some positive reinforcement.

After Hal had left, Nick ordered the staff to make you breakfast before he wandered back up to the bedroom, the morning sun beginning to peek past the blinds. Nick took his jumper off, wanting to feel your skin on his. 

You shifted a little in your sleep when the bed dipped from Nick’s weight, his arms looping around you and pulling your naked form close. “...Alpha…?” You asked blearily. It wasn’t often you got morning cuddles like this. Normally, Nick was already working by the time you rose.

“Morning, omega,” Nick kissed your forehead, spooning you so his warm, firm chest was flush with your back. “Nice dreams?”

You stiffened for a moment before nodding, curling into his hold comfortably. “Yeah.”

“Good. I need you full of energy today,” Nick said as he kissed your neck gingerly, a soft contrast to his tight hold on you.

Nick ran his hand up and down your side, fingers running over the bruises he’d left on your skin the day prior when he fucked you rough over his desk.

“Are we playing hunt the whelp?” Your voice wavered nervously. So meek, so small. Nick nearly growled at the thought of hunting you, but he held it back.

Nick cleared his throat, shifting a little, so his hard-on wasn’t too obvious against your ass. He was trying to focus, all his energy going into being nice. But Nick could tell you knew he was turned on, your own arousal signalling through the bond. “No, no. We’re going shopping.”

You perked up at that, turning to look at Nick. Your curious shining eyes had his heart skipping a beat. “Shopping? Like, going outside?”

“Yes. We’re going into town. I’ll buy you whatever you want.” 

The excitement that flooded the bond was overwhelming. Nick had never felt anything like it. You were happy. But there was some anxiety there too. “Won’t people recognise you? What if something goes wrong?” You asked with a growing frown.

Nick shhed you, gently running his finger over your frown and pushing your lips up at the edge so you were smiling. “You’re the safest omega in the world. Plus, Beck and Mace will be there too.”

Your expression turned into a genuine smile. And Nick smiled back.

“Sit up. I need to check your head.” Nick turned to the bedside, getting together his dabbing alcohol and bandages. You always seemed to end up with some injury after Nick had a bad day. It wasn’t overly intentional, but his anger often turned into dark arousal that left you sore and battered but pleasured too.

You’d banged your head on the desk yesterday when Nick shoved you down and caught your forehead on one of his fountain pens. It left a cut, but Beck dismissed it as minor, needing to be covered with a plaster.

Nick pulled away the bandage with you sitting cross-legged in front of him. He hummed, content at the sight of the healing cut. “Looks good, pup. My good girl, healing so well.”

Nick could feel the heat radiating from your skin as he gently cleaned the cut before placing a fresh bandage on the wound.

“Ah, just in time.” Nick put his things away as your breakfast was brought in. Pancakes with maple syrup and strawberries.

You seemed like a fish out of water, and Nick understood that. He was flipping his demeanour for you. This was new for him, but not entirely unwelcome, especially when he felt your ease through the bond.

Nick sat with you, cutting up the pancakes and feeding you small bites. Every so often, you would meet his gaze, a little twinkle in your eye that wasn’t there before.

It wouldn’t always be like this, and Nick knew he had a long way to go in putting your pieces back together.

But it was a task he knew he would never fail. 

He would have all of you.

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#ambswrites #ambs answers #cherished anons #clockwork au #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #Hal Carter #dark fic #nick fowler fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfiction

[munstysmind]

WARNING/S: non-con, rape, loss of virginity, rough sex, rough vaginal sex, rough oral sex, rough anal sex, unprotected sex, multiple men, blood, assault, abuse, slavery, trauma, threats of forced prostitution, mentions of kidnapping/abduction, mentions of death, mentions or murder, mentions of injuries, mentions of suicide. If I’ve missed anything, please let me know.

DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT

THIS IS A DARK FIC, DO NOT READ IF THIS TYPE OF CONTENT TRIGGERS OR OFFENDS YOU.

You and you alone are responsible for what you choose to consume online.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Thank you to @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure for being my ideas gremlin, and @themaradwrites for beta-ing. This wouldn’t have been written without your help.

MAIN MASTERLIST

please let me know if you would like to be added to a tag list

CH. 1 - THEIR REWARD

{54 BC}

Her heart pounds in her chest as she slowly walks down the hall towards the man she despises more than anything in this world.

Dominus Julius Fabius. Her owner. Her master.

She wishes she could stick him in the neck with a dagger and watch him bleed to death, just like all the men he condemns when he forces them into the arena.

He’s pure evil.

The kind of evil Orcus uses to make an example of. The God of punishment and the Underworld is going to have fun with her master when he passes into the afterlife.

She’s lost count of how long it’s been. Five years? Probably more, if she’s being honest with herself. She doesn’t even know who she is anymore.

Except her name.

Amina.

To everyone around her, she’s a thing. An object meant to do as she’s told. No exceptions.

She runs her finger along the cold iron bolted around her neck, her slave collar.

Thirty coins. That’s what he paid for her. She didn’t know you could put a price on someone’s life but that’s what hers was worth, thirty whole coins.

“There you are girl” he growls as he grabs her wrist tightly and drags her towards a door at the end of the hall “I’m in a right mind to give you a lashing for making me wait”

“I’m sorry, they… they wanted to make sure everything was perfect” she mumbles, keeping her eyes on the floor to help hide her tears as she recalls the looks of pity on the faces of the women who got her ready.

She knows they know what her Master’s plans are, and she suspects the reason they took so long was to keep her from her fate for as long as they possibly could.

“I don’t care. Those fighters in there won me a lot of denarii today. You’re going to let them do whatever they want to you. All. Night” her master tells her, getting so close to her she can feel his warm, vile breath across her face.

“I… I’ve never…” she stammers, her eyes going wide as she realises what he’s saying.

“I know. I know you’ve never laid with a man before, they checked you when I brought you. That’s why I chose you” he says, a smirk spreading across his face. “Maybe I should put you in the Lupanar and whore you out after they’ve broken you in. Gods know you’d make me a fortune”

It takes everything in her not to turn and run as fast as she can as she swallows down the bile rising in her throat.

It would be pointless though, there’s guards everywhere. She wouldn’t make it to the end of the hall before they caught her. She’d be guaranteed a lashing too, a public one at that. Just like Vesta.

“I mean it girl. You’re theirs tonight. I don’t care if it hurts… in fact, I want it to. A lot” he whispers, pulling out a small dagger and cutting one of the shoulders of her dress, exposing her breast.

He runs the dagger tip over her nipple, pressing it into the sensitive bud until it breaks the skin, making her let out a small whimper of pain.

“If you resist, or put up a fight, you’ll be punished, and it’ll be much worse than what they’re going to do” he growls before pushing her into the room.

She can’t help but flinch as the large wooden door is slammed in her face, the echo of the metal latch being closed ringing in her ears.

She just stands there, staring at it as she takes shuddery breaths.

She knows what’s about to happen. What she’s about to go through. And there’s nothing she can do about it.

She’s trapped.

Locked in a room with three blood covered fighters.

Their reward for winning their master 5000 coin.

She’s their prize.

“Turn around” a deep voice commands, making her jump.

She closes her eyes, praying to the Gods that she wakes up from this nightmare as she slowly turns around.

She sees the man the voice belongs to and her breath catches in her throat as she fights back tears.

He’s the one who killed her brother.

Champion gladiator August.

“Name” he growls, slowly approaching her with a look similar to the lions in the arena before they attack.

“Am… Amina” she stammers, stumbling back against the door as he towers over her.

She can smell death on him. The twang of iron, of blood. Was it her brothers?

Her stomach churns at the thought and she wants to be sick.

“Amina” he repeats “honest, faithful. Beautiful name for a beautiful woman”

Under any other circumstance she might have smiled and thanked him for his compliment, just like she was taught, but not this time. She just can’t.

“I like to know their names before I take what I want” he tells her with a smirk.

He remembers them, every name. All the women he’s taken this way. Amina’s the latest entry on his ever growing list.

He grabs her dress and tears it off her body, letting the fabric crumple to the floor.

She instinctively tries to cover herself, but he stops her, prying her hands away from her body before grasping her breasts and squeezing.

A grin spreads across his face as he continues to grope her, pinching and rolling her nipples tightly between his fingers, making her whimper in pain.

The noise makes him let out a low growl from deep in his chest and his eyes go dark, almost black.

Before she can fully register what’s happening, he grabs her by the back of her neck and yanks her towards the small table on the other side of the room, forcing her onto her back.

He takes her legs behind the knees and pushes them open, exposing her to not only him, but the other two men in the room who are now standing behind him and looking over his shoulder.

Her stomach churns as she stares at the ceiling, her face burning with embarrassment as she tries to think of anything to distract her from the way he’s inspecting her.

She bites back a whimper as he touches her, his fingers playing with her most intimate area before spreading it open.

He lets out a satisfied hum, a smirk spreading across his face when he sees she’s intact, just like their Master promised.

“I’ve never had a pure one before” he says, to no one in particular as he pinches the small bundle of nerves above her opening, making her gasp loudly.

“They’re my favourite. Oh, the noises they make” one of the other men says excitedly, much to August’s annoyance.

“She’s mine, Lloyd” he growls, glaring at the man before turning his attention back to her, really looking at her for the first time since she entered the room.

And as much as she tries to look away, to look anywhere but the face of the man that’s about to brutalise her, she can't. Her green, terror filled eyes just stare at him, transfixed.

He’s seen her eyes, and that look, before. He knows he has. There’s something so familiar about them and it takes him a minute to place it. The man he killed in the arena a mere hours before. Her brother.

“You’ve got his eyes” he tells her before turning his gaze back between her legs.

She’s so caught up in the flood of emotions at what he just said that she doesn’t notice his finger pushing into her until it’s too late.

She lets out a loud yelp at the sudden pain between her legs, her body instinctively trying to close her legs and move away from the beast of a man in front of her.

He lets out an angry growl and yanks her up by her arm, turning her around and bending her over the table with so much force all the air leaves her lungs when her chest makes contact with the wooden surface.

“Don’t move” he growls, kicking her legs apart with his feet.

She grips the edge of the table, so tightly her fingers hurt, as tears well in her eyes. She prays the talk of his stamina is wrong, that it will be over quickly.

But it won’t.

When he’s done with her, there’s two more waiting.

And they have her all night…

The sound of his armour dropping onto the ground behind her makes her heart pound.

It’s happening.

Right now.

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying her best to relax when she feels him prod at her again, but it doesn’t matter.

He snaps his hips forward and tears into her with force, pulling a scream of pain from her that makes him grin.

In all the beatings she’s gotten over the years, she’s never felt pain like this.

It’s like a searing hot poker being forced into her over and over as she’s split in two.

The tears in her eyes escape and spill onto the table as he thrusts into her, over and over and over again. It feels like the more she cries, the harder his thrusts become.

“Best one I’ve had yet” he grunts as he lays over her, pressing her against the table with his full body weight, and starts grinding into her, moaning loudly in her ear.

He’s enjoying this, getting pleasure out of hurting her. How can he not? He’s a sadistic bastard!

Little does she know she’s not the first woman he’s forced himself into. It’s the whole reason he’s stuck fighting in that gods forsaken arena in the first place. And unless he dies there, she won’t be the last.

“You’re mine now, gonna take you like this whenever I want” he pants, making her let out a loud sob at the thought of him doing this to her over and over.

It all becomes too much and her stomach churns as bile rises in her throat, burning it as she chokes and coughs it up.

His moans start becoming louder as he ruts into her hard, his hips slamming her body into the table over and over and over.

“Oh Gods!” he roars, moaning loudly as his hips stutter then still before he thrusts into her as hard as he can, filling her with a strange warmth.

He says something to her, but she doesn’t hear a word of it, unable to hear anything except the loud ringing in her ears.

She lets out a loud whimper as he pulls out of her before kneeling and pushing her legs wider, smirking at the blood mixed with his spend dripping out of her.

He catches some with his fingers and pushes them inside her, forcing it back into her as she lies on the table, her entire body shaking and twitching from shock as she takes shallow, gasping breaths.

“My turn” the second of the men says, all but pushing August out of the way before grasping her by her hair and pulling her to her feet, making her cry out.

He pushes her to her knees, making quick work of removing his armour as she glances behind him at August drinking wine from a goblet and sees the size of him for the first time, enough to make Priapus himself blush.

She looks back at the second man, terror spreading through her yet again as she comes face to face with his member.

She can’t tell if he’s bigger, but it doesn’t matter. He’s going to defile her the same way August did without a care for her.

He hooks his finger into her mouth and forces it open before pushing himself in until she starts to gag.

He holds onto the sides of her head and starts thrusting, hitting the back of her throat with each snap of his hips.

A smirk spreads across his face as he moves one of his hands to the back of her head and forces her down onto him, deep throating her.

He holds her there, moaning at the feeling of the muscles in her throat squeezing him as she chokes.

“We can’t kill her, Lloyd” August warns as she starts scratching at his legs, trying desperately to get air.

He lets out a growl as he pulls himself out of her mouth and slaps her hard across the face before grabbing it and pulling her to her feet.

“You’re going to pay for that” he hisses, manhandling her onto the small bed in the corner of the room.

He climbs on after her, roughly pulling her hips up and slamming into her from behind.

“Gods, I’ve not taken a woman this good in years” he moans, throwing his head back and gripping her hips tightly as he thrusts hard, spurred on by her cries.

“I wonder if her other hole’s just as good?” August says with a smirk, leaning against the table he just had her bent over.

“Let’s find out” Lloyd replies, spitting on her ass. He pulls out and lines himself up with her tiny puckered hole before pushing himself into her, moaning loudly at the muscles squeezing him tightly in an attempt to force him out.

She lets out a shriek of pain, her body going rigid as she tries, and fails, to get away from the man violating her in a way she didn’t think was possible.

He lets out an evil laugh and pushes her face into the bed as he starts thrusting, going out of his way to hurt her as much as he can.

The noises leaving him as he uses her body for his pleasure are burned into her mind as she prays to the Gods to take her and put an end to the indescribable pain coursing through her body.

He looks down at where he’s thrusting in and out of her and smirks proudly at the sight of blood.

“It’s even better” he grunts to August, gripping her hips so tightly his nails break her skin.

“I’ll have to try it next” August says, slowly stroking himself as he watches Lloyd pound into the woman at their mercy over and over again, moaning to himself at the sound of her cries.

Lloyd lifts her hips higher, thrusting as hard as he can into her at the new angle, turning her cries into screams with every snap of his hip.

He lets out a long moan, throwing his head back as he cums hard, filling her with the same strange warmth August did.

“Gods, I’m doing that again” he pants as he slowly pulls himself out of her bloody back passage before slapping her ass, making her yelp as she collapses into the bed.

“You’ll get your chance. It’s your turn, Nick” August says, getting the attention of the third man standing on the other side of the room.

Until now, he’s not paid much attention to the events happening in the small room, trying to drown out her cries and think of anything other than what he wants to do to her.

It’s wrong, he knows it’s wrong, but he doesn’t care. He wants her. And it’s his turn to take her.

He slowly walks towards her, removing his armour as he does before gently turning her over and climbing into the bed.

“No more… please” she begs quietly as he spreads her legs with his knees and settles between them.

Asking for mercy is useless, she knows that. All she is to them is an object to seek pleasure from, to defile.

The only thing she can do is close her eyes and brace herself for the pain as he slowly pushes in, a long moan leaving him as he fills her.

But when he starts to move, the pain doesn't come.

She opens her eyes and stares at him, confused, and scared, by what she's feeling.

Why doesn’t it hurt?

Why is it so different?

Why does it feel… nice?

“Gods” she gasps, her eyes fluttering shut as he starts to speed up, letting out a moan that drowns out the one that slips past her lips.

She has no idea what he’s doing differently to August and Lloyd but she prays he keeps doing it because it feels good, amazing even.

Her mind races as she tries to understand what’s happening. Why does she feel bad, so embarrassed and ashamed, when what’s happening right now feels so good?

He moves his hips faster, harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as he gropes one of her breasts before pinching her nipple hard, pulling another moan from her.

He slowly glides his hand up her chest to around her neck, squeezing the sides. The sudden restriction of air makes her panic and start clawing at his hands, making him squeeze even more.

Her eyes roll back as a weird pressure builds between her legs, making whatever he’s doing to her feel even better.

It suddenly breaks, making her moan loudly as a pleasant burning sensation washes over her, before everything goes black…

VENERIS FILIA TAG LIST: @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @themaradwrites @secretaryunpaid @pixie88 @aussieez @identity2212 @fanfics-r-us-official @km-ffluv @ktficworld @sillyrabbit81 @juliaorplI78 @kingliam2019 @thebejeweledwatercat @red-write-hand @queenzee27 @therockandaroll

#munstysmind #veneris filia #veneris filia original series #dark fic #gladiator au #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #dark henry cavill #dark august walker #gladiator august walker #dark gladiator august walker #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #dark chris evans #dark lloyd hansen #gladiator lloyd hansen #dark gladiator lloyd hansen #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #dark sebastian stan #dark nick fowler #gladiator nick fowler #dark gladiator nick fowler

[navybrat817]

“Behave, I wouldn’t want to have to punish you now.”  with Nick Fowler please 🥰

Love this! Thank you for submitting a prompt. Went a little dark with this. ❤️

Snow Globe

Pairing: Dark!Nick Fowler x Female Reader

Summary: Nick thinks snow globes are beautiful, just like you.

Word Count: Over 600

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, NONCON/DUBCON, cockwarming, possessive behavior, Nick Fowler (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Set in the same AU as See Through You and Home Video. And a small submission to @thebasementspouses 's Christmas Challenge with Nick and Snow Globe. ❤️ Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Beautiful, isn't it?”

You peeked up at Nick where he sat on the couch and studied his handsome face. He was in a good mood today. Maybe because he got to sleep in a bit and cuddle with you. He didn't even bother getting fully dressed once he got up. Just put on a pair of boxer briefs and insisted on the two of you staying in.

As if you had a say in the matter.

He chuckled when you let out a hum of confusion. “The snow globe, sweetheart,” he smiled, picking it up from the end table beside him. He gave it a small shake to draw your attention to it more. “See? Beautiful.”

You stared into the snow globe, not at all enraptured like when you saw them in stores or homes. A souvenir like that should have enchanted you with the lightly sparkling snowflakes and glitter. The ethereal vision only served to remind you that looks could be deceiving.

Evil can be beautiful.

Nick Fowler was living proof.

“I thought maybe we could start our own collection,” he continued as he set it down and brushed his fingers along the side of your throat with a soft smile. “Doesn't that sound nice?”

You blinked once. Again, you had no say. You could argue with him, sure. But who knew where that would lead? Nowhere good.

And you didn't want to go down the hard path tonight.

“Fuck, your mouth really does look beautiful stretched around my cock,” he breathed, his fingers drifting along your neck again as he rolled his hips up. “Breaks my heart when you try to fight it, but you aren't fighting now, are you?”

You exhaled through your nose, the urge to gag rising. It was only a few minutes ago when you felt the weight of him slide across your tongue, but it felt more like hours with the slight ache in your jaw. The tip of his cock kept hitting the back of your throat and you willed yourself to stay still and focus on breathing.

At least he was kind enough to give you a pillow for your knees.

“Of course, you aren't. Because as much as you fight it, you love it when I fill you up,” he smirked as you shivered, a darkness settling over your heart. He made you feel good physically every time he took you, but you couldn't let pleasure wear you down. Could you? “And I really do love filling your holes.”

You almost wished he'd stop talking. If he did, you could allow yourself to drift away. You wouldn't disappear into a daze completely, but you could retreat into yourself for a short time and deny that you belonged to him. Which was precisely why he kept speaking.

Nick wouldn't allow you to leave him, even if it was just in your mind.

And with his cock in your mouth, he wouldn't allow you to talk back.

“It’s okay to like being mine, sweetheart,” he whispered.

But why should you like it?

He let out a sharp hiss when your teeth grazed him harder than he liked and gripped the back of your head in a warning. “Behave,” he said in a low voice. “I wouldn't want to have to punish you now.”

He kept you on his cock when you tried to let up, not allowing you any reprieve. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as you met the burning azure of his gaze, his eyes so dark they were almost black in the dim light. It was like looking into your own twisted snow globe.

You were trapped.

Forever.

I love him. I can't help myself. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x female reader #nick fowler x female!reader #nick fowler x fem!reader #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x y/n #nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #soft!dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler x reader #soft!dark nick fowler x reader #tbschristmaschallenge #nick fowler fanfiction #nick fowler imagine #nick fowler fic #nick fowler au #nick fowler fanfic #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

[pinkiebieberpie]

after one night stand with ceo!bucky (which was the best in your life) you woke up alone in a hotel room with a note on the pillow

"i had to go to work,

already paid for everything, you can take my card and go to spa or have a massage - it's on me

you'll give me my card back next time, doll ;)

- b.b."

and under the note is his credit card and another litte note with his number on it 😩🥴🤤

moodboards + blurbs masterlist

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes moodboard #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #ceo!bucky #james bucky barnes #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #nick fowler au #nick fowler x you #nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #sebastian stan the 355 #sebastian stan au #sebstan

[holylulusworld]

Double the trouble

Summary: Two for the price of one.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Mafia!Nick Fowler x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, betrayal, lies, secrets, kinda of stalking

Catch up here: Fool me twice

That night you get to know the truth about your boyfriend. He and his twin brother are the head of the mob in town. In an attempt to keep you safe, they agreed to hide the fact that Bucky has a brother.

Nick took his place whenever Bucky had to attend one of their not-so-legal business meetings. In the beginning, Nick saw protecting you as his duty. He was loyal to his brother. Until. One day. He felt something else for you.

A connection. Love maybe.

He didn’t know and tried to hide his feelings from you and his brother. Every time you tried to get intimate, he found an excuse to not touch you. Nick even refused to kiss you to not betray his brother.

But this morning, he just couldn’t hold back any longer. You feel apart in his arms so sweetly, and he admitted his sin.

His brother didn’t take Nick’s betrayal well. The confession led to a fight. The first one between the brothers since they were kids.

“How could you do this to me?” You step away when Bucky tries to reach out for you. “Don’t touch me.” You visibly shudder. “I believed he’s you. He made me believe it. I sleep with a man I don’t even know.”

Bucky winces as you start to cry. “Baby doll, I’m so fucking sorry. It never was in my plans that he touched you. I almost killed Nick for touching you.”

“Y/N, I’m not a stranger to you,” Nick sounds almost hurt. “We know each other almost as long as you know Bucky. We went to that junk market, and we had dinner at that awful restaurant you wanted to try. I let you cry into my chest when after you watched this ridiculous rom-com movie.”

“Yeah!” You shake your head. “Because I believed you are Bucky. I didn’t even know your name until tonight. When we had sex, you…you kinda…” You sniffle and look away. “I feel dirty and used.”

“Y/N,” Bucky steps toward you, but you step away. “I won’t hurt your, doll. God, I would kill myself before hurting you.”

“And yet, you let your brother take your place and—” you bite your tongue. “Even if I initiated what happened this morning, he should’ve stopped me. But no. He took advantage of me, and the fact that I didn’t know it wasn’t you.”

“His face doesn’t look like that because I went easy on him,” Bucky tries to calm you but it’s no use. Anytime he gets close to you, you step away and shake your head. “I broke his face, and more than one rip. I’m not done with him yet for what he did this morning. But it’s not completely his fault. I shouldn’t have asked him to keep an eye on you.”

“Exactly,” you point out. “You’re as guilty as he is. I ended up sleeping with a stranger because you let him into my life. Bucky, how can you say that you wanted to protect me from getting hurt, but you let your brother do this to me?”

“Baby, I—” Bucky sniffs as you start to cry again. “Please. I’ll do anything. Y/N, please don’t cry.”

“Colibri,” Nick slowly steps toward you. “Hi.” He softly says as you. “Please let us explain. We never wanted things to get so complicated. It’s my fault that I fell for you so easily.”

“You make it sound like you didn’t abuse me this morning,” you snap at Nick. “Yes, I asked you to join me in the showers, but I believed you are the man I love.”

“I am the man you love,” he raises his voice and regrets it in an instant. You flinch and take a step toward the door. “We spend as much time together as you spend with Bucky. I made you laugh, and giggle. You fell asleep in my arms. I won that ugly bear for you at the fair.”

“Nick, you’re not helpful,” Bucky tries to calm his aching heart. Nick is not wrong. You got to know his brother over the months you spent with him too. “We need to calm her first.”

“I’m trying to calm her,” Nick argues. “All you did was hit me, instead of respecting the feelings I have for Y/N.”

“Well, I see this is all about the two of you,” you sneer. “I’m not needed here any longer. Whatever is wrong with you, you should get your shit figured out. And please don’t do this to another woman.”

“Doll! Wait!” Bucky gasps as you leave the room and slam the door shut. He wants to run after you, wants to chase you and bring you into his arms but he knows, he cannot face you again before he and Nick settle their score…”

Five months later the dust settled. You left town that night, never looking back. It was hard to leave your job, home, and the town you learned to love.

But Bucky Barnes and his brother are dangerous men. Or so you heard. 

If you wanted to start a new life, far away from the men breaking your heart and betraying you, it was necessary to leave and never look back.

This is how you ended up in the sleepiest town you can imagine. 

It’s a nice one, with friendly people and not much crime. The perfect environment to start a new life, or at least get a break from your former life.

“Morning, Y/N,” Carol, the waitress at your favorite diner chirps as you sit down at the diner counter. Well, it’s the only diner in town, and the food is not too bad. “The usual.”

“You know me,” you wink at her and chuckle. “I’m a simple girl, and I love your breakfast.”

“How are the eggs?” Someone plops down on the diner stool to your right. “What can you recommend, Colibri?”

Your body goes stiff. “No…”

“Doll, is the bacon good at this diner?” Bucky plops down on the diner stool to your left. You’re trapped between the mobsters. Again.

“How’d you find me?” You sniff and look around the diner. “Why now?”

“We found you right after you left?” Nick shrugs. “Bucky decided it’s for the best to leave you alone and keep an eye on you.”

“You stalked me?” You glare at Bucky. “Seriously?”

“We kept you safe, doll. That’s a difference.”

“No. It’s not!”

“It is,” Nick winks at the waitress. “I’ll take the pancakes, eggs, and coffee. Black.”

“Like his soul,” you grunt. “Carol don’t give them anything. They won’t stay.”

“Miss, I’m having what she’s having,” Bucky says. He points at your plate, filled with all the things you wanted to eat this morning. Now you have lost your appetite.

“Why are you here?” You sigh and hide your face in the palms of your hands. “I told the last time we saw each other that I never want to see you again.”

“The last time we saw each other you sneaked out of the house and left in the dead of the night. That’s what happened.”

“Who asked you, imposer,” you glare at Nick. “I left because you both lied to me for months! I had sex with you.”

“I remember,” he dares to smirk. “You didn’t moan my brother’s name, Colibri. You called me your strong bear because I won the plushie at the fair for you. In that moment, you fucked me, not Bucky.”

“Nick don’t,” Bucky warns. “Y/N, we need to talk.” He looks around the diner. “Not here, though. Please give us a chance to explain why we cannot let you go.”

Tags in reblog.

#nick fowler #bucky barnes #mobster!bucky #mobster!nick #bucky barnes x reader #nick fowler x reader #mafia au #Double the trouble

[thezombieprostitute]

Changing Minds - Part 8

Summary: Your long time work acquaintance Nick Fowler offers to take you to a fancy fundraiser as a way of cheering you up. He insists it's only as friends but when he sees you falling into the grasp of someone he knows is no good, he might change his mind on that.

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: Mild violence and mentions of blood. Please let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Reader is an older female (late 30's +). This is part of the Garbage Men AU.

Part 7 -- Epilogue

Series Masterlist

The day of the Tea Party you hold Nick’s hand as much as you can in the car. While it’s impossible to really have a plan for what’s going to happen, you’ve talked through some plans for what to do if things go bad. Nick made sure you memorized the directions to the nearby Cairo Hotel and to ask for the manager, Jonathan Pine. As a fail-safe Nick had reserved a room under both of your names.

Nick parks the car but stops you from getting out. He gently holds your chin and, eyes full of worry, he pleads, “promise me, if anything happens, you’ll get out. Don’t stop or try to help me. You just get the hell out of there.”

“It wouldn’t look good if your girlfriend just bolted,” you argue.

“If things go south there’s gonna be a lot of chaos and a lot of things could go bad,” he asserts. “You run to the hotel. I’ll do better if I know you’re safe. Please.”

“I can’t promise that, Nick,” you object. “Believe it or not, I do actually care about you and don’t want you killed because I decided to provoke him.” Nick’s eyes widen at your confession so you continue, “it’s not romantic care. Not right now. But we’ve been friendly for so long, I can’t say it wouldn’t hurt to lose you.”

“Thank you for that,” he whispers. “But I can’t let you go to this party unless you promise me you’ll take care of yourself first.”

“Fine,” you acquiesce. “But I get to decide what taking care of myself first looks like.”

“I suppose that’ll have to do,” he smiles softly. “You can be so delightfully stubborn.”

Part of you wants to believe he is interested in being more than just friends. That his words are heartfelt compliments. You brush those thoughts away and mumble, “let’s just get this over with.”

You’re a little disappointed that the rooftop garden is so much a garden as it is a rooftop lawn. There aren’t any plants aside from grass and some plain green bushes that have been trimmed into neat, orderly box shapes. The only color is provided by the pink tablecloths that adorn the few designated eating areas. It makes you wonder if your dress is out of place and too colorful for the occasion. 

There were other people already in attendance. A small group of young ladies posing for their phones, smiling and laughing. A few gentlemen who were clearly dragged along by the young ladies, sitting and grumpily staring at their phones, occasionally discussing whatever it is rich young people discuss. And Clark Kent, directing the catering staff and telling the bartender to not let his nephew have more than two drinks. 

Being the polite guests that you are, you and Nick make sure to tell Clark that you’ve arrived. He plasters on his best fake smile to greet you, not even bothering to look at Nick. 

“Ah, sweet Lady, you brighten this party with your presence,” he schmoozes, taking your hand to kiss it. “Sincerely, I feel out of place with all of these young ones. It’s nice to have someone mature to have a conversation with.”

“Yes, Nick and I do seem to be the only adults on the guest list,” you comment. “Are you hosting this for someone else?”

Clark sighs, “my nephew is trying to impress his girlfriend. Apparently she’s trying to make it big on Instagram, or whatever. He’s hoping attending a party hosted by Clark Kent will be good for her profile and, thus, good for him.”

“Ah,” you smile. “Kids in love are so adorable.”

Clark scoffs, “it isn’t ‘love’ it’s just horny college boy stuff.”

“Oh,” your smile falls. “He told you as such?”

“No, but I remember being that age,” he retorts. “All that’s on his mind is getting laid.”

“I remember being that age as well,” Nick interrupts. “And I remember thinking it was love.”

“And clearly it wasn’t,” Clark rebutted. “Or else you wouldn’t be here with this lovely Lady today.”

“Not all love can be true love,” Nick countered. “But it can still be real. You take the lessons you learn from that love and apply them to the next, in an effort to keep it.” He looks at you, eyes soft, yet steely with determination. “Maybe it’ll even become a true love with time and work.”

“Agree to disagree, I suppose,” Clark rolls his eyes as he smiles. “I’ll believe in love when it actually happens.”

“Given how things worked out for us, I’m inclined to agree with Nick,” you banter. “Sometimes life makes us too cynical, too hard on ourselves, to see real love. I think it’s why I adore when younger people are in love. It’s so cute and pure. But, this is clearly something we’re not all going to agree on so how about we just enjoy the food, drink and company?”

Nick kisses the back of your hand, “my Lady is so very wise.”

“Agreed,” Clark hums. “Feel free to partake of any of the food and drink that interest you. And do let me know how you like it. I need to make sure to leave feedback for the caterer.”

About an hour into the party you find yourself enjoying the company of the younger folk. They’re a lot like the young people you work with and you almost feel like “the cool aunt” with how willing they are to open up to you, how they light up when you ask more about their ideals and dreams. Nick stays with you and follows your lead. He hasn’t seen you so relaxed and happy in a while and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you that way. 

He also keeps an eye on Clark, who is sulking near the bar. You’d clearly been invited to keep him company but you’re enjoying the company of everyone else. Nick’s lost track of the number of refills Clark’s gotten on his drink but it’s definitely been enough to start affecting him. The casual observer might be fooled but Nick notices the slight tells of Clark being buzzed, closing in on drunk. 

To be honest, though, a drunk Clark Kent isn’t Nick’s primary concern; it’s the Instagram girl constantly taking photos and videos. Nick doesn’t care much for putting his face out in public but the young lady is insistent on getting everyone in view. He’s grateful when you comment about him being painfully camera shy and go out of your way to block his face when you can. 

At least until the Instagram girl tells all of her followers how much fun you are. When that pronouncement comes out everyone hears Clark shout, “she’s supposed to be talking with me! Not you young idiots!” He comes storming over to you and Nick immediately jumps in his way, hands out in a calming, placating manner.

“Mr. Kent,” Nick entreats, “you’ve had a lot to drink today. Please take a breath and consider what–” He’s interrupted by a punch to the face. 

“NICK!” You immediately run to him to see if he’s okay. 

Your scream seems to pierce Clark’s drunken state and he shakes his head trying to clear it. That’s when he sees the phone is still out. Still live-streaming. He looks over to you and Nick and closes the distance to punch Nick again, this time putting him on the ground.

“You did this on purpose,” Clark shouts. “You set me up for ruin with your schemes and plots!”

“Mr. Kent,” you scold, “we are your guests. You invited us here and we’ve been nothing but polite.”

“You should leave,” Clark snarls. You take a step back, startled by the rage in his face. 

Nick is up and grabs your shoulder, pulling you behind him. “He’s right, we should leave.” He keeps between you and Clark as you head towards the stairs to get to the elevator. Once inside you see the blood draining from Nick’s nose and get some things from your purse to try to clean him up. As much as he wants to enjoy your caring touch, he has to keep alert. Especially when the “express” elevator stops early. 

The door opens and a small group of burly men gesture for you to step out with them. Nick looks at you and whispers, “remember the plan.” You nod and Nick throws himself at the small posse. 

You hit the “Close Doors” button and stay out of sight until the doors close. You stay in that spot until the doors open at the lobby and you rush out. Your entire system is on high alert but you have to pretend to be calm as you walk through the lobby. You don’t want to draw attention. Silently you thank Nick for making you memorize the path to the hotel as it becomes the mantra for your brain, keeping you from panicking. 

The Cairo Hotel lobby is immaculate and you do feel a little safer just for being there. You approach the front desk and shakily ask to see Jonathan Pine, the Manager. The woman behind the desk gives you a once over but goes to get him. You keep looking to the hotel entrance, hoping to see Nick, afraid to see Clark. You’re certain Nick is strong and capable; Teach said he’s one of their best security people. It’s why he was called in to protect a witness. You’re still very scared for him, though.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a polite cough from behind the desk. A tall, lean man with blondish brown hair and blue eyes is smiling politely, “you asked for me?”

“Y–yes,” you start, “I was told by Nick Fowler to come and ask for you?”

Mr. Pine’s eyes flicker with recognition at the name, “ah, yes. Mr. Fowler speaks highly of you. Please come with me so we can get you taken care of.”

“Thank you, sir.”

As he begins to lead you away you hear your name being shouted from the hotel entrance. You’re not sure if he followed you or if this place just made sense, but it’s clear Clark is very angry with you.

“You owe me an apology and an explanation,” he shouts as he storms towards you. 

Mr. Pine steps in front of you and calmly tells Clark that he needs to leave. “I will not have a disturbance at my hotel, Mr. Kent. I will especially not tolerate any violence or threats of violence against one of my guests.”

“She’s not a guest,” Clark spits. “She can’t afford a place like this! I’ve seen her pay statements! She’d be lucky to be able to afford a half hour here!”

“She is a registered guest at this hotel, Mr. Kent, and I will not let you threaten her.”

“This is bullshit! I’ve done nothing but be kind to her and she’s ruined my reputation!”

“Your quarrel, legitimate or otherwise, has no bearing here, Mr. Kent. She is a guest, she is under my protection.”

“Oh fuck you,” Clark snaps before throwing a punch at Mr. Pine. Mr. Pine easily dodges, grabs Clark’s arm and maneuvers him into a wristlock, causing Clark to let out a bark of pain.

“Miranda,” Mr. Pine addresses the hotel clerk. “Please escort the Lady to the Cleopatra Suite while I call the police.”

Miranda nods and gestures for you to follow her.

+++++++++

You spend the next hour pacing the hotel room you were brought to. It’s a smaller, windowless suite that makes you think it’s specifically set aside for emergencies. There’s a mini-bar but you have no stomach for food or drink. You’re all nerves and keep pacing as much as you can. You wish Nick were here. It wouldn’t be enough for someone to tell you he’s okay, you need to actually see him, feel him, know he’s still alive. 

The past few weeks have been a tumultuous mess and Nick quickly became your safety net, your safe haven, your reliable partner. You’d started craving his reassuring touch, his comforting whispers in your ear. You swear to yourself that if Nick makes it through this you’re gonna tell him about your feelings. About how you want it to be real. Hopefully he’ll let you down gently. 

A tone from your phone gets you to stop pacing. You find a text from Nick, “about to knock on the door.” Sure enough, there’s a knock. You still make sure to check that it’s him through the peephole, just to be safe. You almost start crying when you see him on the other side of the door.

Flinging the door open you pull Nick inside with you, slam the door shut and pull him in for a kiss. Initially thrown off, he softens into the kiss and holds you tight. When you pull away for a breath you whisper, “you’re okay. I’m so glad you’re okay. Didn’t realize how much I needed you to be okay.”

“Yeah, sweet Lady, I’m okay,” he assures. 

When you pull away again you gasp at how beaten up he looks. He quickly tells you he’s had worse, that he’ll be okay in a few days, but you barely hear him. 

“Have you seen a doctor? Nick, you might have a concussion, or broken bones, or something worse!”

“I needed to make sure you were okay first,” he confesses as he kisses you again. “Couldn’t stand the thought of you being caught.” Another kiss. “Needed to hold you again, just to be sure.” You welcome the kisses and return them with a fervor that encourages Nick to keep going. “Couldn’t go to a doctor until I heard your voice again.”

“I felt the same,” you admit between kisses. “I never want to go through that again. I need you, Nick.”

“Need me?” He gently pulls away from you, eyes searching your face. 

“Yes, Nick,” you breathe. “I’ve always felt safe with you, enjoyed your company and the past few weeks have just cemented that. I want you around. I need your touch, your comforting words and presence. Please.”

“I’ll happily be yours,” he affirms. “And if I wasn’t worried about getting blood on your gorgeous body I’d take you here and now.”

You can’t hold back a small moan at the thought of Nick’s expert lips on other parts of your body and he smiles before wincing at the pain it causes in his split lip. That elicits a small chuckle from you, “we really should get you to a hospital, Nick.”

“Will you hold my hand while they patch me up,” he asks, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. “I’m not a fan of hospitals and could use the comfort of your touch to help keep me calm.”

“Gladly, Nick.”

He kisses the back of your hand, “thank you, my gracious Lady.”

Part 7 -- Epilogue

Series Masterlist

Tag List:

@alicedopey

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@rebekahdawkins

@terry2227

@texmexdarling

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

#nick fowler x reader #mafia!nick fowler x reader #dark!clark kent #mob au #nick fowler #mob!nick fowler #nick fowler x female reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Muddled Waters 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, blood, violence,, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your boss has a dangerous secret.

Character: Nick Fowler (mob au)

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

Your shift goes as usual. You make drinks to order and bring them out to the tables, or to set in the windows set into the walls of the private rooms. Those are for the more exclusive patrons, the ones who remain mostly faceless. The Sapphire is as close to a speakasy as you’d find in this century.

As you bring out a single scotch and place it on the ledge of the order window, a voice intone from the other side.

“Pardon me,” the English lilt wafts through, “your boss wouldn’t happen to be in house?”

You pull back your hand and consider the question. The customers in the rooms never talk to you. No thank yous, no pleases, no special orders. Those all come through the screen in the back which lists their demands; no olives, extra salt, double vodka...

“No, sir, I’m sorry, he’s not in,” you reply.

“Pity,” he remarks and a hand reaches to take the glass. “You will let him know I was here. In Room Four.”

“I’ll mention it. Would there be a name I should give him?”

“He will know,” he returns and footsteps scuff away from the window. Right.

You’re somewhat used to the cryptic. As nice as Nick can be, he isn’t always straightforward. The establishment does give you reason to bat an eye but for the most part, your pay stubs keep your gaze in the other direction.

You return to the kitchen and work at cleaning the used glasses brought by the singular busboy. You don’t know his name and he doesn’t talk. He always has earbuds in and only puts bins of dishes in the wash tray.

To say the operation is minimal is an understatement. Yet there is never more demand than you can meet. It makes you wonder how Nick breaks even with such a limited audience. Especially with the grade of ingredients he gets in. You never worked at a bar that didn’t water down their liquor now and again.

The night comes to an end and the lights dim as the bar closes up. The busboy clears the rooms and locks the front door. You leave the glasses in sparkling rows on the shelves and a bin of dishcloths to have washed the next day. You place away a few stray bottles then wipe down the counters.

“You’re here late,” Nick’s voice startles you and you hiss, looking up at him from the edge of your vision.

“Cleaning up,” you say and toss the cloth with the rest. “Just finishing now.”

“Mm,” he nods and hooks his thumbs in his belt loops, “you wouldn’t happen to have time to make me something, would ya? I’ll keep it simple.”

You withhold a sigh. Or maybe a yawn. Your eyes tingle and you shrug, “sure, what do you want?”

“Rye and coke,” he answers as he approaches the island and crosses his arms over the top, leaning on the stainless steel.

You swiftly gather everything you need and put together the simple drink. You set it before him and return all you disturbed back to its rightful place. You face him as he raises the glass and considers the dark elixir.

“Oh, er, someone asked for you,” you untie your apron and fold it over the bin meant for tomorrow’s laundry.

“Someone did? Was she pretty?” He winks.

You shake your head, “no. It was a man. He was in Room Four. That’s what he told me to tell you.”

“Room Four,” he repeats and puts the brim to his lips, taking a slow draw. His cheeks dimple before he pulls it away. “Noted.”

You nod at his strange reaction. Almost none at all. You check the time and drag your hands over your head.

“Well, I’m going to head home,” you say, “if that’s okay?”

“Quitting time,” he says coolly, his eyes stuck on the cabinet, a squiggle in his forehead. “Go on, get some sleep, sweetheart.”

“You too,” you shoot back. “Look like you need it.”

You pass him and he stands, turning to watch you, “hey, what does that mean?”

“Nothing, just... look tired.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he scoffs.

You go through to the backroom and grab your jacket and purse. It’s not really a strange night. A few out-of-the-ordinary occurrences, but nothing worrying. The man in Room Four and Nick’s late-night appearance; it’s not really a pattern.

You glance back at the kitchen door before you leave. You head out the back and walk down the next street. You approach your car parked by the curb, the rush hour jam keeping you from finding a closer spot. You take out your keys and they jangle loudly as your footsteps echo.

As you shove your keys into the slot, you’re suddenly taken off your feet, a blunt force jarring your wrist as your fingers catch in the keyring. You hit the ground with wheeze and roll across the stray pebbles as you hug your chest. You can’t breathe.

“Look, honey,” the British voice hisses through the night, “I didn’t wanna bring you into this but I needa send a message.” A figure straddles you on their knees, holding you down by your neck. “Not much, you’ll live...” you hear a metallic shing, “bit of blood is all.”

You feel a piercing pain just below your neck, right at the small dip of your collar bone. You cry out as the metal slices down your chest and easily through your shirt. Your skin parts with the fabric as you vibrate in agony.

“Get... off,” you cough out as you regain your breath. “Please...”

“Shh, honey,” he takes the knife away and smears his hand over your chest, your warm blood spreading under his rough palm, “I just want him to see you painted up nice for him.” He drags his hand over your face, the metallic scent staining your nose and lips. “Mm, you are a pretty thing, too.”

The man wiggles his hips lasciviously before he pushes himself off of you. He stands and you cover your ragged skin with your hands and whine, sobs rising from the pain hewn into your flesh. There’s a noise, something distant, maybe a door, and the man’s silhouette strolls off, whistling into the night.

Another set of footfalls approach you as you writhe on the ground. You don’t understand what happened. Why did that man do this to you? You can’t move. You can’t think. You just can’t.

The street light flickers as someone steps around the front of your car.

“Shit,” Nick rushes over and falls to his knees beside you, “shit, sweetheart, I shouldn’t have let you come out here alone. I shoulda knew...”

“Why?” You babble as your blood seeps between your fingers, “why, Nick?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and bawl. He slides his arms under you and lifts you as you exclaim. He hushes you as he holds you against his chest.

“It hurts,” you whimper.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he rasps, “I got you.”

#nick fowler #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #the 355 #muddled waters #drabble #au #sweet and spicy #series