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buckaroundandfindout · 12 days

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Nothing like seeing an angry possessive beefy Bucky 🤤

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Canon-level violence, kidnapping, nongraphic death of a minor character, implied threats of violence, mentions of blood/guns, smut. Minors DNI

Word Count: 1.6K

A/N: Written on my phone. Early sinday drabble. Beta'd by the wonderful @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

“I would let me go if I were you,” you sing out with a smile, tapping your fingers on the sides of the chair, your movements limited by the rope around your arms.

Franklin doesn’t spare you a glance. His attention is focused on the thin metal door separating the two of you from him.

From James.

Too bad there’s nothing that can keep your mobster from you.

Not a rival gang who snatched you off the street an hour ago and definitely not one measly door guarded by nine men. A dull thud resounds, a wet gurgling moan filtering under the door. Eight men.

Glass shatters followed by rapid gunfire, the unnerving sounds of muffled screaming startle Franklin, his hands begin to tremble as he paces in front of the door. Exhilaration and something far more raw, heady, and feral flares like a flame, searing through your veins.

Grinning at him, you try again.

“At least run, save yourself,” you offer, blatant amusement lacing your tone. “Because if he finds you. In here. With me...” You trail off when Franklin’s eyes widen, a low, fearful groan escaping through his gritted teeth.

You scoff under your breath, only ten minutes ago, he was threatening to do all these horrible things to you but now he wants to be scared.

More gunfire erupts, the screams seem to crescendo. You revel in it. He’s so close. Moments pass and then you hear your name called out above the fray, the familiar sound of Bucky’s voice rolls down your back like ice making you shiver.

“What exactly do you think he’s going to do to you? Just imagine it, Frankie.”

Your question hangs in the air. He doesn’t answer, then again what he can say. You both know what’s going to happen, the inevitably of his impending destruction winds around his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs.

Franklin paces faster, his eyes flitting from the rusty door to you, his breathing becomes more frenzied with every step, you raise a brow, cringing when he hits his temple with his palm. “Shut up, shut the fuck,” he shouts.

“Okay,” you laugh. “I was just trying to be helpful.” Tilting your head, your brows furrow in concentration.

It’s quiet now. Wait. Almost too quiet.

The slow, steady, heavy footsteps getting closer and closer break the silence permeating the air. The feeling of sheer, unadulterated satisfaction billows in your chest.

“Oh god,” he mumbles, he turns to you. “Shit, what do I do?”

“I gave you two good options.” You purse your lips, nearly rolling your eyes. “You had your chance.”

The footsteps stop right outside the door. A loud knock rattles the door. Once. Twice.

You perk up, beaming, even though he can’t see you. “Hi, Bucky. I missed you.”

“Hold on, Mylashka.” His gravelly baritone voice sets you and Franklin on edge, but for vastly different reasons.

Franklin’s mouth opens, but that comes out but a low whine that almost makes you laugh. Grabbing the edges of your chair, you scoot backward, the metal grating across the floor.

The door bursts open, the hinges cracking in two from the force of his boot. Franklin freezes at the sight of Bucky. Even you’re stunned. You’ve seen your man when he’s been angry before.

But this. Oh, this is almost indescribable.

He’s...unhinged, volatile, and utterly ferocious. It’s a good look on him, the longer you stare, the wetter you get.

Blood is splattered across his black suit, his long hair swaying across his forehead as he stares at you with his piercing blue eyes. The emotions crossing his face — a dizzying combination of rage, relief, love has heat pooling in your core. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you, raising his gun in his vibranium hand, Bucky aims at your captor.

He doesn’t move, his finger on the trigger, blue eyes on you, gauging your reaction and you realize that he’s waiting for your permission. A smile flits across your face and you nod. Franklin doesn’t have time to beg for mercy before he’s falling to the ground in a crumpled heap.

“Oh my sweet Mylashka,” he whispers softly, holstering his gun. Sprinting towards you, he kneels between your legs, his large hands cradle your face. You love how those rough, calloused hands that can rip a man apart always touch you with a delicate reverence.

“Are you hurt?” Bucky swears if you say yes, he’s going to find a way to bring every last one of those bastards back from the dead so he can make them suffer.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you sigh, rubbing your cheek on his palm.

Bucky quickly unties you, helping you to stand up, he keeps running his hands over you, checking you for injuries despite your repeated insistence that you’re okay. “I know, I know,” he murmurs even as he slid his fingers back over your wrists, his eyes searching your skin for even a hint of a bruise.

When he checks you for the fifth time, you grab the back of his head and pull him down for a passionate kiss. A moan slips through his lips and he melts into your touch. “Bucky, I swear I’m fine,” you promise, breaking away.

“I know,” he repeats, his baleful expression saying otherwise.

You grab him by his belt and walk backward until you bump into the wall. “Liar,” you laugh, “Guess I’ll have to show you.”

You have his pants halfway off before he seems to realize what you’re doing. “Mylashka,” he starts, he never finishes that sentence because you choose that moment to wrap your hand around his cock and he loses any remaining control. “Fuck I missed you,” he breathes out.

Bucky shoves your panties down with your pants, bringing one leg around his waist. Bucky watches you line him up with your soaked pussy and his knees almost buckle from the feel of you, so soft and warm and wet for him.

He channels every ounce of the overwhelming fear that he wouldn’t find you, the worry that’s been crushing his heart, into that first stroke. And you sob. Bucky makes sure you feel everything as you let him in, let him stretch you, let him claim you. And when he bottoms out, he groans under his breath, relishing the way you're wrapped tight around him—he can breathe again.

Placing one hand on the wall, he grabs your waist with his vibranium hand to keep you steady. He eases out, staring down at his cock before his gaze flicks back to your face and he slams into you. “Bucky,” you wail, grabbing his broad shoulders for support, a strangled cry crawls up your throat.

Each thrust matches the dark, frenetic intensity in his darkening eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but the way he’s gasping your name is enough for you. Pleasure spirals through you, winding the coil until you feel nothing but rich, potent sensations washing over you. Your climax hits you suddenly, faster than you wanted but the release is everything you needed, flooding your veins with a cathartic relief that leaves you thrumming with bliss.

Bucky follows soon after, unable to hold back when you clench down around his throbbing cock. “That’s not how I planned our reunion,” he mutters, reluctantly slipping out of your spasming pussy.

You laugh, watching as he fixes your clothing. “Yeah, I didn’t think about walking out of here with your cum running down my thigh, either.”

Bucky wipes his hand down his face, grumbling, “Mylashka, don’t say shit like that to me or I’m going to have to fuck it back into you.”

“Promise?”

Bucky smiles down at you, gripping your chin between his fingers. “Let’s go home so I can really show you how much I missed you.”

He guides you out of the room, down a few long long hallways, shielding your eyes from the carnage staining the floors. Soon you’re standing under the blistering sun, breathing in the fresh air. His men pack into the empty lot, awaiting Bucky’s instruction. You hope they didn’t hear the way Bucky had you screaming for him; you gaze at the familiar faces, acknowledging each one with a grateful smile.

Then you see him and you realize the extent of what Bucky did to get you back.

“Steve,” you gasp quietly, gazing across the space at your ex.

The blonde mobster is standing in front of his car, wiping blood off his hands with a towel. A wistful grin tugs at his pink lips, his warm gaze drifting across you, assessing you for any visible injuries.

Even after your breakup, Steve promised to be there for you, no matter what.

“Good to see you again, Mo Chridhe.” His smile gives way to a scowl as he shifts his attention to Bucky, giving him a stern nod. “Keep her safe because if this happens again, I'll be the one taking her home.”

“I would burn down this entire city before I’d let that happen.” Bucky tightens his hold around your waist, keeping eye contact with his rival, he places a possessive kiss on the top of your head.

Tension thickens the air, becoming palpable as they stare each other down. Just as you’re about to say something, Steve puts his hands up in a disarming manner, laughing, “of course, you will.”

He gestures for his men to leave. Opening his car door, Steve looks at you. “And remember, you can always come home.”

“She has a home." Bucky states, glaring at Steve before his lips drop to your ear, “I will never let anyone touch you again, my sweet Mylashka, I promise you that no will ever even think about harming you. And you don’t have to worry about anything because you’re not leaving my bed for a long time.”

Waiting until Steve and his men are gone, Bucky assists you to his car and helps you inside. As he's heading to his side, Sam, one of his most trusted friends, steps in front of him, holding something in his hand. "You need to see this."

****

Settling in his seat, Steve orders his driver to take off. He closes his eyes, blowing out a frustrated groan.

"Goddamn," he shouts through gritted teeth, taking a deep breath, he wills himself to control the torrent of rage pulsing through him.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he dials a number he memorized years ago.

“Franklin got greedy and double-crossed me. Call in Nick.” He takes your photo out of his pocket, rubbing his thumb over your smiling face. “No, it has to be tonight. She’s not safe with him.”

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