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Off-Limits

Bucky Barnes x Reader: Mafia AU

Summary: Bucky Barnes wants the one thing he can't have, and he'll go to great lengths to get what he wants. The tension between the two of you makes it impossible for him to think rationally.

Warnings: profanity, possessive!Bucky, mentions of firearms, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I've been thinking about writing something like this for a few weeks but I'm typically not an AU kinda girl so stick with me. Bucky is intentionally out of character in this but hopefully a few of you will like him this way. Also, THANK YOU ILY for the little bullets and foliage art for my timeskips @littlemiss-yeehaw. She is an angel, an inspiration, I love her.

Off-limits. Nothing has ever pissed James Bucky Barnes off more than the phrase off-limits. The fact that it’s you who’s been labeled off-limits only adds to the fiery rage that’s steadily growing inside of him.

Bucky leans back in his desk chair, running his flesh hand through his hair while he goes over his options in his mind. He could just take you. He could give a few orders and have you in front of him by nightfall, though he isn’t quite sure how he feels about starting a war simply because he’s thinking with his cock rather than his head. He could have a sit-down meeting with the man he detests most in this world, the man who currently has total control over your future. He could make an offer, bargain for the right to have you to himself. No, that sounds too polite.

The sound of a fist rapping against the heavy wooden door of his office breaks Bucky out of his thoughts.

“You told me to come back at eight, so here I am. What did you decide?” Sam asks, shutting the door behind him after entering. He’s itching to do something, anything. His life has been hell ever since Bucky first laid eyes on you. It’s as if the entire fucking operation dropped to the bottom of the totem pole while you rose to the top. It would be great if he could bash a few heads in, fire a few rounds, and deliver you to his boss tonight so he could fuck away whatever this newfound obsession is and get back to being the cunning, ruthless mob boss he’s meant to be.

“We’re paying my least favorite lowlife a visit.”

Just like that, James Bucky Barnes and his entourage of over-eager gunmen are on their way to your house, to see your father.

As you tiptoe down the mahogany stairs of your childhood home, your bare feet just barely gracing each step, you forget for a moment that you’re not a little girl anymore. You can hear the distant sound of low voices and tense discussion coming from your father’s home office near the bottom of the staircase. When you were younger, those sounds would’ve had the hair on the back of your neck standing up and you would’ve been hightailing it right back to your bedroom. You’re not so timid anymore. The man already holds your entire life in the palm of his hand, molding and shaping it however he sees fit. What’s the point in trying to abide by his rules when it’ll never get you anything other than exactly what he wants for you? So, you continue your daring trip to the kitchen, with the hem of your oversized t-shirt skimming along the skin beneath the curve of your ass and your heart set on a late-night snack.

Bucky sits across from your father’s desk, his jaw aching due to the number of times he’s caught himself clenching his teeth together during the past hour of deliberations. As he lifts his hand to massage the sore muscle along the side of his face, he hears the sound of a wooden floorboard creaking somewhere outside of the room that he currently sits in. He shifts his gaze around the room, noting the way his own men, your father, and your father’s men all seem oblivious to the miniscule noise that came from somewhere in the house.

“It doesn’t matter how long we sit here and go through this. My daughter is not getting married, she isn’t on the table.” Your father’s tone, though resolved and sure, doesn’t match the look in his eye. It’s a look that lets Bucky know you’re not actually off the table, he just hasn’t made the right offer yet. The words echo in his head for a moment: on the table.

Fuck. If he sits here for another second, picturing you physically on top of a damn table, he might make an unreasonable offer just to turn that fantasy into a reality. It’s what prompts Bucky to rise to his feet suddenly, reaching into the pocket of his black suit pants to retrieve his phone and act as if he’s going to make a call, maybe a call to check on things within his business to see what else he can offer the piece of shit who sits in front of him. In reality, he’s making up an excuse to get the hell out of that stuffy office and clear his mind just enough to close the deal.

“Let me make a call.” Bucky says evenly, shooting your father a steely look. Your father leans back in his desk chair, relaxing for the first time since his rival showed up on your doorstep an hour ago. When Sam and Torres make moves to follow Bucky out of the office, Bucky holds up a hand, signaling for them to stop. “Stay, I won’t be long.”

Leaving his suit jacket draped over the back of the armchair he had been sitting in, Bucky steps out of the office and guides the door to shut as quietly as possible. It’s fucked up, what he’s doing here. He knows that good and well. Offering large sums of money, offering obscene amounts of quality product, offering a damn near eternal truce in the streets…all to have a woman he barely knows. As his eyes adjust to the darkness of his enemy’s home, he casts a glance up the staircase by the office door, wondering if you’re awake up there. Are you sitting in your posh bedroom without a single worry plaguing your pretty little mind? Are you sleeping soundly as he barters with your father for the right to have you all to himself? Or are you thinking about him too, about the handful of times you’ve run into each other over the past two months?

Shaking his head to clear his mind of all thoughts of you, Bucky takes a few steps to his left and turns the corner at the bottom of the stairs, entering the kitchen soundlessly. That’s where he finds you, hidden behind the open refrigerator door as you rummage around for a snack. He sees your bare legs first, peeking out beneath the half-door. He clenches his teeth and tightens his grip on the phone in his right hand simultaneously. It fucking hurts just to look at you.

“Your father lets you walk around like that with guests in the house?” He seethes. Startled, you shove the refrigerator door shut just before dropping the container of blueberries in your hand. As the plastic container goes crashing to the kitchen floor, blueberries scatter around your feet. James. When your eyes land on him, you can see the look of disdain all over his face. He despises you, you’re sure of it. Never one to take shit from a man, you narrow your eyes at him before crouching down and positioning yourself on your knees. Bucky watches intently as you pick up the blueberries one by one, placing them back into the plastic container.

“I don’t think my father considers you a guest.” You whisper the insult just loud enough for him to hear it, but not loud enough for your voice to carry over to your father’s office. Bucky’s squeezing his phone so tightly in his hand that he’s already thinking about having to send someone out to pick up a new one for him tomorrow, because surely, he’s shattering the screen of it. It isn’t your cute little attempt at a comeback that’s irking him. It’s the fact that you’re still on your knees, with your t-shirt riding up your thighs and your eyes lifting to meet his gaze as if you have no idea what effect you’re having on him. He’s sure you aren’t that naïve, which means you’re doing this shit on purpose.

“Get up.” He says through his teeth. You narrow your eyes at him before cocking your head to the side and picking up another fallen berry. It’s a test. He wants to see if you’ll listen to him. The way Bucky sees it, if you listen to his command and stand up, he’ll feel a bit better about going to all of this trouble to have you. It would tell him that although you’re defiant and like to talk back, you still know how to do what you’re told. But if you don’t listen? He can think of a few enjoyable ways to break you of that bad habit.

“What would my father do if he knew you were in here telling me what to do?” The question leaves your lips with the intention of being threatening, but Bucky’s hard stare and cold expression melds into a look of mild amusement. You pick up one of the last few remaining blueberries and drop it into the plastic container, keeping your gaze steady on the cold-blooded man a few feet in front of you. You watch with masked curiosity as he tucks his phone into the pocket of his suit pants and begins rolling up the sleeves of his white button-up shirt. He notices the way your eyes fixate on his black and gold arm, the way you almost seem fascinated by it. When he uses his metal hand to roll up the sleeve on his right arm, your focus shifts to the tattoos covering the majority of his flesh forearm. It isn’t your eyes that tell Bucky you like what you see. It’s the way you subtly clench your thighs together as you drop another berry into the container. You don’t shy away, you don’t move even an inch as he begins walking toward you. Even when he comes to a stop in front of you, close enough that the toes of his dress shoes are nearly touching your knees, you stay where you are. You look up at him through your lashes without tilting your head upward, refusing to move any more than just your eyes for a man that you know would take a mile if you gave him an inch.

“What would your father do if he knew you were on your knees in front of me?” He lifts his flesh hand toward your face, expecting you to flinch away or refuse his touch, but you don’t even blink as he lets his fingertips trace the curve of your jaw. He drags his fingers downward, until he’s in the right spot to curl them beneath your chin and force you to tilt your head up for him. Again, you don’t resist him. “Get out of here before someone else sees you like this.”

It isn’t at all what Bucky wanted to say to you, not even close. But it was what needed to be said. If anyone else had walked out of your father’s office and stolen the privilege of seeing you looking so pretty on your knees like that, he would’ve shot them dead right there in the kitchen. Whether it was one of your father’s men or his own, he wouldn’t have given a shit. So, Bucky lets his hand fall away from your chin, but he doesn’t step away. You reach down for the container of blueberries and grasp it in your right hand as you move to stand, keeping your eyes locked on Bucky’s the entire time. You want to shove him, to tell him he has no right to tell you what to do, especially not in your father’s home. At the same time, you wouldn’t be opposed to tracing the tattoos on his flesh forearm with your lips. What is it about this man that makes your rational mind war with the rest of your body?

When you step around Bucky a second later, setting the container of blueberries on the island in the center of the kitchen before heading toward the stairs, he has to fight the urge to reach out and grab you. Not now, not yet. You’re not his yet. When you round the corner of the kitchen and begin tiptoeing up to your room, Bucky makes his way to the bottom of the stairs and watches you silently as you take each step. You don’t look back as you make it to the landing and turn right, disappearing behind a wall. When he hears the faint sound of your bedroom door closing, he reaches into the back pocket of his suit pants and retrieves a small silver cylinder. It sits heavy in his hand as he pulls his gun from the back waistband of his pants. As Bucky screws the silencer onto the barrel of his gun, a distant voice in the back of his mind is screaming at him to be rational about this. Don’t do it. Don’t go to such insane lengths for a woman you don’t even know. Don’t spill blood on these nice mahogany floors.

When he enters the office a few seconds later, he fires two shots. The first into the shoulder of your father’s righthand man, and the second into the thigh of the other hired gun. His face is emotionless as he steps over their bloody, writhing bodies and presses the cool metal of the silencer against your father’s temple. Bucky only has to speak one sentence to let the man know that he isn’t to be fucked with.

“We make a deal tonight, or I make your daughter an orphan.”

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I DO

Mob! Bucky x Reader - Forced Marriage AU

Warnings: swearing, violence, misogyny?, sexual content (MINORS DNI)

3.2k words

Summary; Bucky, a member of the mob, and the daughter of his enemy find themselves entangled in a complex relationship.

No fucking way.

Your throat tightened. The reflection in the mirror portrayed a stranger—pale complexion, vacant eyes.

“You look beautiful,” Nat reassured you, placing her steady hands on your bare shoulders, but you’d never felt so appalled. She was trying to comfort you but fell on deaf ears.

Your gaze dropped to the dress. It fits you perfectly, especially with your hair trailing down your back.

You wanted to rip it all off.

“Nat”, your voice meek, tears threatening to fall.

"I'll be by your side through it all, and if that mystery man dares to step out of line, well, a broken nose wouldn't hurt," she attempted a smile, but it faltered. Your best friend gave your shoulders a final squeeze.

Today is your wedding day.

As you found out yesterday. Yesterday. You seethed, manicured hands clenching.

“How could this happen to me, Nat?”, you asked through gritted teeth, the reality of the situation setting in.

Nat's gaze softened, her eyes filled with a sadness you couldn't bear to meet. "We both know why," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, the truth of her words like a knife to your heart. Your father's illicit dealings had finally caught up with you, dragging you into a web of deceit and manipulation from which there seemed to be no escape.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could I be so naive?

And so, you became a pawn in your father’s game. An object to be bought, owned and sold off at will.

It was all a show of power. You cross me, and I’ll rob your daughter of the rest of her life. You were nothing more than collateral damage.

———————————

As Bucky adjusted his tie in the mirror, the reflection staring back at him was that of a man with a steely resolve, a predator poised to strike. His jaw clenched with determination, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity.

“One last drink before you’re hitched?” Steve smirked, pushing a whiskey into his best friend's hand.

Bucky sent him a sharp look. “Come on Steve, you act like I'm not the one calling the shots here”, the glint in his eyes portraying a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

In a swift motion, he downed the alcohol and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His throat burned. He lavished the feeling.

“Marrying a woman you’ve never even seen?” Steve's grin widened, his tone holding a hint of scepticism.

Bucky dragged a hand down his face. “All part of the game, my friend” he responded cryptically, a flicker of anticipation glimmering in his eyes.

“You never know, pal, she might be a knockout”, Steve teased, a veiled reassurance towards his friend.

”Yeah. Fat fucking chance, as long as Pierce knows I can take everything he holds dear, I’m a happy man”

With a nod of agreement, Steve raised his glass in a silent salute. "I'll drink to that," he said.

———————

Deep breaths.

You felt nauseous.

You stepped into the aisle, honing your vision on the figure standing by the altar. He had his back to you but, he was tall, broad and masculine.

Ripping your eyes from the man and planting them on your feet. Just make it down the aisle without tipping over.

Bucky turned to face you. Holy shit. His surprise was palpable. He wasn’t expecting this. You knocked the breath from his lungs. You looked beautiful. Your dress moulded perfectly to your body, skin glowing. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

You felt a cool hand press against the small of your back.

“Hey”, a deep voice whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

A response far too casual for the situation at hand.

His hand moved to your waist, guiding you to face him and look at him. Fuck him. You knew this was a stupid, stubborn attempt to maintain some form of control, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

That was until he placed a finger under your chin, his touch surprisingly gentle. Oh. He is gorgeous. Sculpted face, baby blue eyes, pink lips. His touch was far too gentle for someone so evil.

“H-hi”, you stammered, your voice portraying the nervousness you felt.

Bucky’s smirk only widened at your response, as if he found amusement in your discomfort. It was infuriating. He was drinking in your wide eyes and aloof expression. You were so innocent. He almost felt bad for inviting you into his world. Almost.

He wanted to devour you.

”Well…aren’t you a sweet little thing”, his finger tilted your head back as he unashamedly raked his eyes over your features, with an almost predatory hunger.

You forced a sweet smile, concealing the disgust you felt at his patronising comment, “get your fucking hands off of me”, you retorted sharply.

Bucky’s smirk faltered for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his features, before being replaced by amusement again. “Such a filthy mouth for a pretty girl… I’ll sort that out for you”, he replied, his grip on your chin tightening.

You snarled at him, resisting the urge to clock him in his cocky face.

It was almost humorous, the way the interaction looked like a loving husband whispering sweet nothings to his wife, when it couldn’t be further from the truth.

The vows went by in a blur, all words sounding muted and unreal, until the time came to kiss the man you met half an hour ago.

Bucky couldn’t look anymore gleeful, revelling in your discomfort.

“Come on honey, I promise I’m a fantastic kisser”, he taunted, arrogance in his smirk.

You opened your mouth for a retort, but his lips landed on yours before you could protest. You hated how he was so gentle, caressing your cheek while his tongue ran across your bottom lip.

Damn it, he is a fantastic kisser.

Pulling away, you forced yourself to compose, concealing the turmoil within. He was so gentle, as if he was afraid you’d break in two at his kiss. Bucky’s touch held a power over you. You despised it, but it was overwhelming.

The reception blurred into a whirlwind of congratulatory embraces and forced smiles. Every glance from Bucky sent shivers down your spine. He was everywhere. A hand on the small of your back, an arm draped across your waist.

As the night wore on, you found yourself cornered by Bucky, his presence suffocating. His whispered promises of a future together sounded more like threats, each word tightening the knot of discomfort in your stomach.

“Is it time for that broken nose yet?” Nat whispered into your ear as you snorted at her comment, your first genuine smile all day.

“I’m ready whenever you are”, you replied, before taking her into an embrace. Her presence was a lifeline in the chaos of this ceremony.

Even after your moment of solace with Nat, Bucky's presence loomed like a dark cloud. His eyes followed your every move, logging everybody you spoke to, as he watched with an adverse gaze.

Unable to bear his suffocating presence any longer, you slipped away from the crowd, seeking refuge in the quiet solitude of the garden.

The cool night air enveloped you, offering a brief respite from the whirlwind wedding. Sitting on the wooden bench, you closed your eyes, simply focusing on breathing, before being unsurprisingly interrupted.

With a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, Bucky leaned against the stone wall, the faint glow of a cigarette illuminating his features in the darkness.

"You shouldn't be out here alone," he said, his voice low and gravelly, tinged with a hint of his streetwise charm.

"Yeah? Well, I’m fine," you replied curtly, refusing to show any vulnerability in his presence.

Bucky's smirk widened, the glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Sure you are," he said, his tone teasing. "But just in case you need a hand getting rid of any unwanted guests, you know what to say."

“Nobody’s watching here, you know? You don’t need to keep up this facade”, you replied, more angrily than you’d expected.

Bucky’s expression darkened at your accusation, a flicker of hurt crossing his features. “Facade? Come on, darlin’ you know me better than that”

”Do I?”, your voice echoed, not ready to submit to him.

He took a step closer, his movements fluid and deliberate. "Yeah, you do," he replied, his tone edgier now, devoid of its earlier teasing edge. "You think I’m doing this all for me?"

You found yourself unable to make eye contact with the mobster, “I think this is a game… where I’m being used as a pawn”, you confessed, a sadness in your voice.

Bucky was taken aback by your raw vulnerability. He lifted your chin with his forefinger, as he did in the ceremony, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were a cocktail of remorse and sincerity.

“A game? I won’t lie, doll, I’ve done things that I’m not proud of”, he swallowed hard, grappling with the actions that had led to this moment, “but I wouldn’t drag you into this twisted world simply to be a pawn”.

You fought internally, unsure of what to believe.

Bucky stepped back slightly, his eyes raking over your features as his finger drew an arc over your jaw. "I know this ain't the ideal situation for either of us," he began, his voice softer now, tinged with a hint of regret. "But we're in this together now."

Your features softened and you let yourself relax into his gentle touch. The voice in your head stressing about how dangerous this man was began to quieten. You needed this comfort.

"I want you to know," Bucky continued, his words measured yet genuine, "that I ain't gonna let anyone hurt you. Not while I'm around."

"Thank you," you murmured, the weight of the day's events finally beginning to lift from your shoulders. "I appreciate that."

Bucky offered you a small, understanding smile before gesturing toward the door leading back to the reception hall. "Come on," he said gently, "let's get back inside.”

Bucky flicked his cigarette into the darkness, the ember glowing brightly before fading into nothingness.

As the night wore on, the exhaustion of the day's events began to weigh heavily on you.

“You ready to call it a night?” Bucky asked, sweeping a stray hair behind your ear.

His eyes were fixated on yours until you replied with a simple nod.

You began saying your farewells to the guests, making sure to hug Nat especially hard. You eyed Bucky as he seemed to be having an enthralling conversation with a man you recalled being introduced to as Steve. You made a mental note to ask him about his friend.

You let Bucky guide you into his mansion, down the large halls, to the bridal suite. Everything was gorgeous, sophisticated and modern.

You hadn’t let your mind trail to what your wedding night would bring, you found yourself wondering whether he’d even stay in the same wing as you.

As you and Bucky stepped into the dimly lit room, the air was hot with anticipation, charged with the unspoken tension between you.

As you turned to face him, ready to bid him goodnight and retreat to your separate quarters, Bucky's gaze met yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a rawness that took you by surprise.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" His voice was low, almost hesitant, betraying the confident facade he often wore. There was a hint of uncertainty in his words, a vulnerability that made your heartache.

It was a bold move, really, you both knew it. For a request you were so sure you would’ve declined earlier in the day, you found yourself taken aback.

“Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. "Yes, you can stay."

As the door clicked shut behind Bucky, you felt anticipation in the air. His gaze lingered on you, his eyes tracing the contours of your figure with a certain hunger.

“Let me take off that wedding dress," he murmured, his words laced with desire. His eyes bore into yours, daring you to resist him, daring you to deny the attraction that pulsed between you.

Your head was spinning, the way he bounced between sincerity and domination.

For a brief moment, you hesitated, the thought of shedding the symbol of your forced marriage felt like an admission of defeat, surrendering to the forces that had brought you to this moment.

The primal hunger in Bucky’s eyes convinced you, with a hesitant nod, you faced your back to him and pulled your hair over your shoulder.

Bucky’s fingers delicately worked the fastens on your dress, his gaze transfixed on your back. You felt yourself becoming conscious, truly realising for the first time that this man was going to see you at your most vulnerable.

Sensing your apprehension, the air shifted, “you’re doing great, sweetheart”, he murmured, “Tonight, it’s just you and me”.

You eased at his words, as the fabric pooled at your feet in a cascade of silk and lace.

With a tender smile, Bucky reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek with a feather-light touch. “God, you’re beautiful”, he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

His words warmed you from the inside out. There was something more than desire in his gaze. It ignited a fire in you that threatened to consume everything in its path.

In the dim light of the room, you could see the raw hunger in Bucky's eyes, the longing that burned like a fire deep within his soul. But beneath the hardened exterior, there was a vulnerability—a longing for connection, for intimacy.

You doubted he was some sort of blushing virgin, especially with the stunt he pulled at the altar, but it was hard to believe he looked at other women like this.

“W-will you… are you going to…”, you faltered, not quite knowing how to ask him the question.

”Going to what, doll?”

“You know… it’s an arranged marriage. Are you planning to…see other women?”, you ventured, your voice hesitant, uncertain of how to broach the topic.

Bucky's gaze softened as he sensed the gravity of your words, his expression shifting from one of intensity to one of attentiveness. He reached out, gently grasping your hand in his, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

“I understand why you might have doubts, especially given the circumstances," he began, his voice calm and reassuring. "But I want you to know that I take this marriage seriously. This isn’t a game to me. You’re my wife".

His words carried a weight of sincerity that eased some of the tension in your chest. "I won't deny that my past may have been... adventurous," he continued with a wry smile, "but when it comes to you, I'm all in. I won't be seeing other women. You have my word."

“O-okay”, a small smile playing on your lips.

“And just so we’re clear”, he added, a playful glint in his eye, “you’re not allowed to see other men either”.

You rolled your eyes at that, your smile widening.

Bucky's eyes softened as they landed on your lips, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his own. "You've got a beautiful smile, you know," he remarked, his tone unexpectedly sincere.

As you met his gaze once more, you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled with a warmth that mirrored your own.

“Thank you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, feeling the electricity between you intensify with each passing moment. The hunger in his eyes mirrored your own.

With a boldness you didn't know you possessed, you reach out to him, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt as you draw him closer. The air crackles with tension as your lips meet in a searing kiss, passion and need colliding in a heady rush of sensation.

His hands pulled on your hips, desperate to get you impossibly closer. Your head was spinning.

Bucky gently walked you to the bed, falling onto the sheets when your calves knocked the frame. He ate up the gasp that escaped from your lips hungrily.

“Fuck. I want to devour you”, he murmured against your lips, before taking your bottom one between his teeth. You could only gasp in response as he rolled it.

Bucky’s hands grabbed your wrists, gently placing them above your head. A stark contrast between his gentleness and dominance. His lips trailed down the curve of your neck, nipping and tucking, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You arched against him, a soft “B-Bucky” escaping your lips.

Bucky released a guttural moan as you bucked your hips into the muscular thigh positioned between your legs.

”Easy, sweetheart”, he whispered, his voice husky with desire. “I don’t want to overwhelm you”.

Bucky's hands trembled slightly as he fought to restrain his desire, the urge to lose himself in the moment almost overwhelming. His breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to control the primal urges that threatened to consume him.

His hands, which had been so commanding just moments before, now moved with a feather-light touch.

"I need to slow down," he muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice strained with effort.

You placed a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your touch, “we can slow down, Bucky”, you whispered reassuringly, your eyes filled with concern.

Bucky's struggle was like a battle raging within him, the conflicting desires tearing at his very core. He was used to being in control, but with you, he felt a primal urge to let go, to surrender to the passion that threatened to consume him.

But he couldn't. Not yet. Not with you.

He looked into your eyes, his own filled with gratitude and longing. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice tinged with relief. "I just want to make sure I'm not pushing you too far, too fast."

He’d never cared for the women he’d taken to bed in the past. There was something about you, an innocence he wanted to preserve, but simultaneously fuck out of you, make it his own.

“I’m okay, I promise”, you reassured him.

“No…it’s me. I want to lose myself in you but… I won’t be able to control myself. I want to do this right”, he admitted.

You caressed his face with your hand, letting a silence fall over you and your husband. He traced circles on your bare skin with his fingertips.

Bucky's arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a warm embrace, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. Feeling the weight of the day finally catching up with you, you nestled into Bucky's embrace, allowing the rhythm of his steady breathing to lull you into a peaceful slumber.

Bucky drifted into a calm sleep, the calmest he’d had in months, until the shrill ring of his phone shattered the silence. Groaning, he fumbled for the source of the disturbance, his hand eventually finding the cold metal of his cell phone on the nightstand.

"Steve?" Bucky muttered, his voice thick with sleep as he answered the call, his mind struggling to shake off the fog of slumber.

"Yeah, it's me," Steve's urgent voice crackled through the line, cutting through Bucky's drowsiness like a knife. "We got a problem”.

Bucky sent a glance to your sleeping form, the sheets pooling around your waist, with your chest lifting rhythmically.

He ran a hand down his face and groaned, not wanting to leave you. “How bad is it?”, he asked, debating whether to throw the phone at the wall.

“Bad enough”, Steve replied grimly.

——————————

Taglist!

@casa-boiardi @winterslove1917 @writingpastmybedtime @thealyrs @kandis-mom @blackhawkfanatic @scott-loki-barnes @mrsevans90 @melsunshine

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@darkroomlament: More shots of @imsebastianstan from last Friday at @vidiots amazing FRESH screening. Please credit if you share or repost!

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evanstanwrites · 2 months

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just a heads up

if you’re an active follower of mine, i do recognize your username and/or icon. i smile when i see it in my activity. i get excited when you add funny tags to things. i get really happy when you reblog my op posts. so thank you, i appreciate you massively.

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evanstanwrites · 2 months

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Lost love, broken trust part 3

Pairing: Biker AU Bucky x Reader

warnings: drunk Bucky, drunk reader, fluff, smut, angst

sum: Bucky and Y/n finally meet again

A/n: special thanks to @qrjungand @thescarletphoenixx for helping me out with this story both as beta readers and editing and helping me with ideas <3

series masterlist

Bucky sat at the bar of a local pub, nursing his drink, his thoughts swimming. He wanted to wallow in his feelings in peace. The alcohol had dulled the pain momentarily, but it couldn't erase the ache in his heart. Yes, he knew he had drunk too much already but he didn’t care. When he was drunk he spiraled into a cycle of self-doubt, believing every hurtful thing that had been said about him and about Y/N. And then he just drank more because he didn’t want to think about everything.

Just then, the door of the pub opened. Normally he would just ignore it but for some reason his eyes turned towards the door. As soon as his eyes landed on the person who had just walked in he just froze. Y/n. His first thoughts weren’t all those negative things he was thinking just mere moments ago.

‘Gorgeous’.

She looked different from how he remembered her but she was still the most gorgeous person he had ever laid eyes on. At that moment he remembered why he fell in love with her in the first place, he was still very in love with her. But then all his drunken thoughts flooded back into his mind so he turned his focus back on his drink and drank it in one go before ordering a new one.

Y/n didn’t know why but she was in desperate need of a drink, she wasn’t someone who drank often and definitely never more than a few drinks. But the day had been dragging her down. After her panic reaction from the day before seeing Steve, she kept herself in a higher state of alert. But the next day it affected her work day too and the fact that her workload increased immensely hadn’t helped either. But luckily, a coworker had joined in to help her with the monstrosity of an assignment.

After the long day at work, she needed to let off some steam and this pub she was about to enter was the same one she used to go to when she’d sneak out of her parent's house when she was younger. It had a feeling of nostalgia around it and just seeing it brought back fond memories.

But when she pushed the door open and walked in she instantly regretted her decision. Bucky Barnes was sitting at the pub’s bar just a few feet in front of her. Panic soared through her and all she wanted to do was run, she wasn’t ready for a confrontation. It seemed like he hadn’t noticed her walking in so she took a deep breath to calm herself and kept walking into the pub straight to the back in the hopes she wouldn’t be noticed.

When she sat down and had her first drink she couldn’t stop herself from staring at Bucky from the corner of her eye. He still looked handsome, maybe even more handsome than she remembered. But she did notice the darker circles under his eyes, there was a somber aura surrounding him. She wondered what had happened to him after she left. But one thing clearly hadn’t changed, he was still a member of the MC, the kut on his back staring back at her.

Unable to resist the pull, Bucky got up from his seat, looked around the room and sure enough he found Y/N sitting in the back. He approached her, the alcohol fueling his courage and clouding his judgment. When he stood there before the table she was sitting at, his voice tinged with bitterness and hurt.

"You're here," he said, his words somehow laced with both relief and resentment. As soon as the words left his lips he knew that wasn’t the way he wanted to come over but alcohol was a bitch. He wanted nothing more than to have a civil conversation with her but his mind was working against him.

Y/N met his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest fearing the worst. For the first time, she was actually scared of the man she grew up with and loved for so long.

"I'm here," she replied, trying to sound casual. She hoped that her wavering voice didn't betray the anxiety she felt. "But I didn't plan on running into you."

The air between them crackled with unresolved tension, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the space. Both wounded souls yearned to reach out, but the walls of pride and hurt held them back.

Bucky couldn't ignore the hurt that simmered beneath the surface. "You disappeared without a word, Y/N. You left." he spat out.

Y/N's eyes hardened, mirroring the pain she felt. "I left because I had to, Bucky. It wasn't an easy decision."

Bucky scoffed, a bitter, derisive laugh escaping him. "So you just decided to leave without even telling me? It's like you never cared about us."

"I cared, Bucky." she glared up at him, eyes watering. "I care. But it was too complicated. You wouldn't understand." Bucky's jaw clenched, the alcohol fueling his temper. "And you really think leaving was the best solution? Just running away? Like a coward?" he said, his voice cutting across the pub which had now gone silent.

People at their tables glanced at the duo out of the corner of their eyes, trying not to seem too obvious that they were listening in.

Y/N's voice wavered, glancing around the dim pub. Her heart was torn between the love she still felt for him and the pain of their separation.

"I didn't know what else to do. I needed time to sort things out." She lied in a whisper. She wasn’t ready to tell him what his father told her, afraid that he wouldn’t believe her or that his father was right that Bucky never had truly loved her.

The words hung heavily in the air, a painful admission that neither of them wanted to acknowledge. The hurt between them deepened as they both lashed out in frustration and fear.

"You think leaving was the best thing for us?" Bucky's voice grew louder, his emotions bubbling to the surface. A chair creaked in the distance as someone shifted in their seat. "You didn't even give us a chance to talk!"

"And what would we have talked about, Bucky?" Y/N retorted, her voice breaking. "Our lives were heading in different directions. We were never meant to be."

Bucky's eyes darkened, his anger simmering. "Don't you dare say that," he whispered, almost pleading. "We had something real, something special."

Those words made Y/N chuckle. A dry, mirthless chuckle. At that point she just gave in to all those fears and negative thoughts she had.

“Fuck! Like you care, Bucky. You never cared, not about me or anything else! You’re just a good actor taking whatever you want and then using it like a toy you can get rid of when you've had your fun!"

Bucky was stunned by her words. He leaned away from her, eyes glistening.

Was that really how she saw him?

Instead of proving her wrong, he balled his fists in anger, if this was anybody else, they would have already been sprawled on the floor from the force of the blow he would deliver. But this was someone who owned his heart ever since they were kids.

“Sounds more like someone else, do I need to remind you that you were the one who left. Don’t you dare to put this on me Y/N.”

"You broke my heart," he said and Y/N looked away from him.

"You broke mine too," she whispered.

After that, everything else became fuzzy. Y/N vaguely remembered them arguing over drinks until even she had drank more than she ever had done. They both said things they didn’t mean but couldn’t take back. The next thing she knew, the owner of the pub had kicked them both out due to their argument starting to get too heated and too loud and disturbing other patrons.

Once on the curb Bucky just started walking without even looking at her, it was only when he was almost at the corner of the street that he called out to her.

“Are you coming or what?” He slurred out, the alcohol affecting his speech.

She didn’t know why but she did as he asked and followed him to wherever he was going. She just hoped that it wasn’t the MC’s clubhouse. Cause she knew if they went there things wouldn’t end well for her. But even in her drunken state and after their fight she still trusted him.

They walked in complete silence beside each other and for a little bit, it almost felt like old times. Their hands were almost touching, that’s how close they were walking. But the atmosphere around them was still filled with the aftermath of their fight, anger, hurt...

Almost every emotion went through her.

She didn’t know how it happened but, by the time they stopped in front of a building she remembered it to be Bucky’s house, their hands had been intertwined. But that wasn’t the only thing, they were almost glued together, that was how close they were walking. To any outsider, they would look like just an average couple.

Bucky opened his front door and led her inside. A lot had changed, most of the furniture was the same as those she remembered but there wasn’t any life in it. It was clear that he wasn’t here much, dust covered most surfaces. But the thing that touched her the most was the big picture frame that was hanging on the wall above his couch. The frame was filled with pictures of Steve, Bucky, and her. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at it. Every emotion rose inside her. She missed those days portrayed in those pictures, they were so happy back then. At least she was. Now it was just a painful reminder of everything that had happened. Did he bring her here to torment her? Cus if he was, this was a very good start.

“Why did you bring me here James?” she asked, her anger and sadness bleeding through her words. But before she could fire off her next question Bucky had stepped closer to her, his hands framing her face as he planted his lips on top of hers.

At first, she was so shocked by his actions that she froze, she didn’t really know what was going on. Bucky was kissing her. She didn’t really know what she was feeling, this was something she had dreamed of for so long. But she was still feeling anger and hurt towards him. And that was where the alcohol kicked in, if she’d been sober then she’d have pushed him off her in a second, hell she would have never even walked home with him.

When she felt him pull back, probably because she wasn’t kissing him back, she pulled him back in and deepened the kiss. She might have still been angry at him but the alcohol started to cloud her judgment more and more until she just didn’t care anymore, she just wanted to live in the moment for as long it would last. Her tongue ran over his lips which he opened happily for her. His hands dropped from her face to find their place on her waist before pulling her with him, their lips and tongues still intertwined, to the couch.

As soon as he felt the edge of the couch he let himself fall into it and pulled Y/N with him so she landed on his lap.

With her chest pressed against his she could feel the rapid beats of his heart, the heat of his skin under her fingers. Even the soft movement of his breath against her face with the smell of alcohol. Every little detail of him she had missed so much and now she just tried to drown herself in them. It lighted her up, like she was on fire and that all just from making out. But then Bucky’s hands moved down from her waist until they were resting on the swells of her butt and softly squeezing them making her moan into his kiss.

“You still sound so gorgeous when you moan babydoll,” he groaned before softly biting her lower lip.

For just a second it was like there was a fuse exploding in her mind when she heard the nickname rolling over his lips. She quickly shook it off before pushing him back down against the reclining part of the couch. She pushed him down until they were laying down.

“Just shut up," she sighed. "It's clear we’re not here to talk.”

She wasn’t even done talking when she started to push his kut over his shoulders until he took it off completely, his shirt following quickly after.

‘Was his chest always this defined?’

She thought to herself while her fingers glided over every inch of his tattooed skin. Bucky’s eyes closed, enjoying her touch. It wasn’t long before the alcohol in his blood gave him a new confidence boost. He picked her up again just to flip them around so she was laying beneath him.

“You’re wearing too much clothes, let’s make this even.”

It wasn’t long before both of them were making out on the couch just in their underwear, hands wandering all over each other.

Y/n hadn’t been this turned on in years, it was like he still knew every little thing that made her tick. She could practically feel herself dripping all over Bucky’s leg that she was grinding on after he had pushed it between her legs. What added to it was the fact that she could feel Bucky’s obvious hard-on against her thigh. He was clearly aware of it as he gripped her hips and guided her movements against his leg and adding a bit more pressure by tightening the muscles in his leg, making her softly moan into his mouth.

“Touch me, please,” Y/N softly spoke when she pulled back from their kiss.

“Never have to ask me twice, babydoll,” he said before he pulled away a bit and pulled her panties down her legs.

“Look at that, so wet for me,” he said, making Y/N gasp when he softly swiped his thumb over her folds, collecting some of her wetness before putting it in his mouth.

“Mmm still the sweetest taste, I need a better taste. Will you let me? Hm? Can I eat this pretty pussy?”

His question hadn’t even left his lips completely and she was already saying yes, begging for him to do it.

It wasn’t long before she was a moaning mess, riding his face as he was fingers deep inside her while making out with her clit. He pulled orgasm after orgasm out of her until she begged him to stop. But that little break didn’t last long before she pulled him back in for a kiss which soon ended with him deep inside of her.

He really did fuck her brains out, there wasn’t a single thought in her mind. There was only them and pleasure in that moment, nothing else. With every thrust of his hips he took her higher and higher until she felt like she was floating, the only thing she could do was hang onto Bucky for dear life.

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, and a searing pain in her head made her wince. She was disoriented for a moment, trying to piece together the events of the previous night. The room was unfamiliar, and her heart raced as she glanced around. Then she noticed an arm wrapped around her. Bucky was breathing steady as he slept beside her.

The memories started to flood back. They had both indulged in too much alcohol, drowning their sorrows while they had argued. In the haze of the night, they had ended up in Bucky's bed.

Y/N's thoughts raced, and a surge of panic washed over her. Did he take advantage of her? Or was he simply looking for a fleeting moment of nostalgia, reliving the past by seeking comfort in their physical connection?

Carefully, Y/N slipped out of Bucky's embrace, her movements slow and deliberate as she tried not to wake him and walked back into the living room. Her clothes were strewn on the floor, a stark reminder of the night's events.After their play time on the couch he had taken her to his bed for round two before falling asleep in each other’s arms. As she hastily dressed, the weight of her assumptions and insecurities pressed down on her.

She could hear Bucky shifting in his sleep, but Y/N didn't dare to look back. The room felt suffocating, and the idea of facing him filled her with dread. She believed she had made a mistake, that she had been foolish to drink so much and let him affect her so much that she had fallen for his charm, again. Maybe it had all just been a drunken whim for Bucky, she didn't want to be the one holding onto false hope that it could have been something more.

With one last glance at Bucky's sleeping form, Y/N quietly slipped out of the house, closing the door behind her. The cool air outside hit her like a wake-up call, and she hailed a taxi, ready to put some distance between herself and the uncertainty of the night before and back to where she had left her car.

As the taxi drove her away from Bucky's place, Y/N's heart ached with regret and doubt. But in her mind, it was better to leave now, to protect herself from the heartbreak that she thought was inevitable. She wished that she had never ran into Bucky the night before.

Little did she know that Bucky was waking up in that room, his heart heavy with the realization that he had let her go without saying what he truly felt. Her leaving, more like running away from him again made his heart break all over again. But he knew that it hadn’t been his smartest move to talk to her while drunk. Sleeping with her while being drunk and without everything cleared up had been a mistake.

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evanstanwrites · 2 months

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So, I have an idea.

I want to write a Kylo ren x reader series. I already have a short plot outline.

It would be nice if someone wants to brainstorm with me or even helps me write some pieces.

Writing together is always twice the fun 😊

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evanstanwrites · 2 months

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Help me find inspiration 😊 ask me questions about my fics/ WIP's

The CEO - Masterlist-

summary: y/n Photographer meets James Bucky Barnes CEO of White Wolf Industry, they fall head over heels for each other. But Bucky has many secrets, will she find out who or what he really is? And more so will she accept it or will she run as far as she can when she finds out?

A/N: based on elements of an rp with the lovely @loricameback

Every chapter has its own moodboard made by @imanuglywombat ❤

series warnings: angst, fluff, smut +18 only

chapter 1: The beginning and the end?

chapter 2: revelation

chapter 3: secrets and letters

chapter 4: revelation part 2

chapter 5: The mob boss

Bonus one shots: comming soon

- What if Steve did join ( alternative scene chapter 2 / SMUT +18 only)

- Fun at a sex shop ( SMUT +18 only)

- Wednesday date with Bucky, Jamie and reader

- The truth about Jamie’s father

tags: @marvelgirl7 @loricameback @pawfect-melody @aesthetical-bucky @imanuglywombat @imbuckysgirl @feelmyroarrrr @huskygreatdane @cap-just-said-language @lokisironthrone @lolabean1998 @seasaurusrrex

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evanstanwrites · 2 months

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I feel like I lost my spark to write for marvel characters 😢 I don't know if or when I will finish 'lost love, broken trust'. I might work on a drabble for The ceo series. I'm not sure right now.

But feel free to ask questions about my fics, maybe it will spark my inspiration. It's worth a try.

#bucky barnes #lost love broken trust #bucky x reader #the ceo what if #the ceo #sebastian stan

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evanstanwrites · 2 months

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Winner of the Silver Bear award for Best Leading Performance

SEBASTIAN STAN A Different Man

Detail:

❤️

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evanstanwrites · 2 months

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Reblog the writers’ fortune cookie for luck!

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evanstanwrites · 2 months

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Comfort in times of grieve

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

sum: Bucky comforts reader

warnings: angst (if you can call it that), grieve, death, fluff

“Come on doll, you gotta eat something,” Bucky said standing before the locked door of y/n’s bedroom with a plate of food. “I’m not hungry,” a hoarse voice softly called back. It was clear that she had been crying again, or rather hadn’t stopped crying. If you’d ask her she’d simply say that she hadn’t or that something was in her eyes that made them red and puffy, but then again she hadn’t left her room in days so all they could do was guess at the state of her eyes. So yeah Bucky was worried about her, and more so because she was barely eating. This wasn’t the first time he stood there in front of her locked door with a plate of food. He just wanted to be there for her, take care of her, hold her, be the comfort she clearly needed after what happened a few weeks ago.

Lees verder

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evanstanwrites · 3 months

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Who can help me with a dedication one shot ?!

Some time ago my best friend/ sister passed away. She was a big Snape fan and I promised her to write a Snape one shot for her with her as the main character. But I never had the inspiration for it. Now since she passed I really want to keep my promise even if that means asking for help from a fellow writer. So please is there someone who can/ want to help me write this one shot? 🥺 She really meant the world to me.

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evanstanwrites · 6 months