Tumgik
#mob!au
prettyfastcars · 3 months
Text
dangerous, tainted, and flawed | Dark!Mob!Lando
Summary: You met your husband under disturbing circumstances a couple of years ago. Your home was under attack one night, by one of your family’s rivals, and Lando – one of your father’s allies – came to help. He found you in your bedroom that night, and managed to save you but unfortunately no one else in your family survived the attack. You were distraught after that night, having lost everything, but Lando took care of you. Eventually, you two fell in love, he proposed, and you got married. Your life has been perfect ever since. Sure, you missed your family but you thanked the gods everyday for Lando. However, you didn’t know the whole truth about that night, did you? 
Themes: dark!lando, explicit language, smut, fluff, mentions of death, loss, and violence, possessive!lando
Tumblr media
“Baby?” He called out, “I’m home.” 
His voice echoed in the foyer. 
The house was so spacious that often you couldn’t hear him when he called out for you, and he knew that. That’s why instead of calling out again, he followed the sweet smelling scent and the soft music instead. Both came from the kitchen; the smell of warm muffins and a soft woman’s voice singing about chemtrails over a country club. 
Lando leaned against a wall quietly for a minute, smiling to himself as he watched you moving around in the high-ceilinged, farmhouse style kitchen. You didn’t know he was here yet. You were busy mumbling the lyrics of the song while chopping veggies, probably making dinner and baking muffins all at the same time. 
Cooking calmed you down, ‘It’s therapeutic’ you once told him. And he’d been married to you for not too long but he knew that this is what you did whenever you had a long day at work. You were a successful gallerist and often you had to deal with snobbish people, or ‘young money kids who had no true appreciation for art’ as you also told him. 
He let his eyes take you in. You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, prettier than anything you’d ever exhibited he often told you, but the way you squirmed in embarrassment told him that you didn’t really believe it. That’s fine though, he’d spend a whole lifetime reminding you of that anyway. 
Once he was done ogling, that damn pale pink corset top of yours driving him insane as it was, he finally walked up to you and surprised you by wrapping his arms around you from behind. “There you are, baby,” He said, shoving his face into your neck and giving you as many kisses as he could. 
You giggled and tried to get away as he attacked your neck with kisses and soft bites but he tightened his grip around you. 
“Fuck, you smell so good.” He groaned, voice muffled now that he was nuzzling your neck like he always does. “I missed you so much.” 
“Lando,” You laughed, “I’m holding a knife!” You squealed, laughing and still trying to escape his ticklish kisses before any one gets hurt. “Okay you seriously need to shave, that stubble of yours hurts.” You managed to get him to stop. You placed the knife down and turned to face him as you leaned against the counter, caressing his cheeks as you cupped his face in your hands. “Too rough.” You commented, rubbing your fingers across his barely visible, but spiky stubble. 
He raised an eyebrow at you, his handsome face lighting up with mischief. “Is it?” He teased, “You weren’t complaining about it being too rough this morning.” He leaned in to whisper into your ear, purposely rubbing his cheek against yours, “Were you, baby?” 
Ah. This morning… 
You woke up feeling… funny. You opened your eyes and found that your husband wasn’t in his usual spot beside you on the bed. Instead he was busy down there, between your legs. You lifted the soft covers and found him looking up at you with nothing but desire and trouble in his eyes. 
You let out a soft moan when he held your stare while kissing your clit, and sucking on it before letting go. “Morning, baby.” He whispered, then got back to eating you out like he was starving. 
You threw the covers off and slid your fingers into his hair instead, “Lando…” You whined, the pleasure taking over you. “I’m gonna be late for work.” You mumbled, already feeling yourself getting to the edge. “I have clients waiting for me, you know? I have meetings, and…” You gasped, forgetting what the hell you were talking about in the first place once he began fucking you gently with his tongue. 
Damn his tongue and soft lips. 
Lando chuckled, a cocky look in his eyes when he pulled away and asked, “Meetings and what, baby?” 
“Don’t be a tease,” You groaned, shoving his mouth back to where you wanted him. He chuckled before working his tongue against your wet slit, his fingers slowly sliding in and out of you until you came with a soft cry. 
But he wasn’t done yet… 
Lando smirked as he looked at you, surely thinking back to this morning as well. 
You rolled your eyes at him. “You did get me late for work, you know?” You shook your head, turning back around to focus on the food that you were making. “Then there’s that anonymous collector,” You sighed. Lando wrapped his arms around you from behind again, placing his chin on your shoulder and gently swaying you side to side as you ranted a little bit. “I don’t mind them, whoever they are,” You said, “I do sell them a lot of stuff but why can’t they just show their face? It’s weird, you know, having a client without a face.” You sighed, “And then a really important meeting got cancelled. And one of the artists’ whose work is about to be exhibited soon is being a real brat.” 
Lando hummed, occasionally kissing your neck and shoulder as you complained a little more. “I’m sorry you had a tough day, baby.” He mumbled, kissing around your ear, “Want me to handle this collector for you? Or the artist?” 
You chuckled, knowing the nature of your husband’s work and his temper, “No. Please don’t.” You added, “I love my work, it’s just a bad day, that’s it.” 
“Okay,” He kissed along your exposed shoulder, “Then how about a bath? You want that? Or how about some wine?”  
You leaned into touch, “Bath for later,” You said, “The wine for now, please.” 
“Yes, my lady,” Lando let go of you with one final kiss on the side of your head.
You watched him as he left the kitchen. He took his suit jacket off and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows. Then before he turned to head to the wine cellar, he gave you a wink, acknowledging that he gave you a little strip show. You shook your head at him. 
Once alone in the kitchen, you smiled to yourself as you thought about how far you and Lando had come in just a few years. 
Your smile faded into a sad one as you thought about the day, or night rather, you first met him. 
The sounds of gunshots and screams woke you up. You couldn’t hear anything but the chaos outside your bedroom. Bullets, screams, orders being shouted, furniture being wrecked, glass being broken, more screams… all of it muffled as you ran into your walk-in closet and hid in the dark. 
You couldn’t stop the silent tears from streaming down your face. You knew what this meant. It was an ambush. And you also knew that a few hours ago might have been the last time you saw your family. You just hoped they made it out alive. But no one was barging into your room yet… this meant that the fight was happening downstairs. 
You cried some more as you heard more yelling, more gunshots. 
This life, this family you were born into came with situations like this. Your father told you this since you were a child. He was well-known amongst gang leaders and mob bosses, which meant he had more enemies than friends. Sometimes those two were the same people. But your father had kept you hidden for most of your life, away from all this. 
The only reason you were even home tonight was because it was your birthday. You’d begged your father to let you celebrate it at home with everyone… 
You didn’t remember passing out in that closet. You didn’t know what happened or how you were found, just that you were. And when you woke up, you were face to face with a handsome young man with pretty eyes who reassured you that you were safe. 
He said he and his family were friends of your father’s. And that he was sorry but you were the only survivor of that attack. Your family was gone, your house was gone. All was gone. 
The year which followed was the hardest of your life. Grieving, dealing with so many losses, moving on with a heavy heart, getting the help you needed, finally learning how to stand on your own feet again… you couldn’t have done it without Lando. 
He was your rock. Always there when you needed to cry, to share a laugh, to make silly jokes, on days when you wanted to spend hours in bed, on nights when you had nightmares, on days when you felt light and happy, on days when your heart broke all over again, on days when it felt like you were finally healing, he was always there. 
He was a busy man, but he made time for you. 
Falling in love with him was easy. The easiest thing you’d ever done. So when time came, and he got on one knee and asked you to marry him, saying yes was the easiest thing you’d ever done. You knew you were both young, but he was it for you. 
Becoming his wife felt like a dream. Like you were a real princess marrying her knight in shining armour, the one who saved her from every bad thing and promised to protect her fiercely forever. Except your knight wasn’t altruistic, he didn’t come on a white horse and with a sword. Yours was dangerous, tainted and flawed. He came with power, money, guns, and expensive cars. 
“It better be thoughts of me that you’re lost in and not that anonymous collector,” His voice brought you back to the present. “Otherwise I might have to hunt them down and make them disappear forever.” Lando joked as he handed you a glass of your favourite red. 
You leaned against the counter, facing him as you took a long sip. Then you said, “I was thinking about you actually.” 
That cheered him up immediately. “Yeah? Do tell then.” 
You smiled faintly. “Just thinking about how lucky I am that I have you.” You avoided his eyes after. You always did whenever you felt slightly emotional. You always tried to seem stronger than you felt in the moment. 
Lando placed his glass down and came over to wrap you in his arms immediately. Somehow, he always knew when you needed a hug. You wrapped your arms around him and let out a sigh, your heart already feeling lighter just by being in his arms. 
“I’ve got you, baby. Don’t worry.” Lando said softly, his familiar scent already making you feel better. “You’re safe here, with me.” He reassured you. Lando knew you still had a fear somewhere, about being attacked like that night. But he often also reminded you that he was the most powerful man in this city, and no harm was coming your way as long as he lived. 
He often wondered whether you realised how lucky he felt that you were his. That night, when he found you passed out on the floor in the walk-in closet, something in him shifted. He knew he had to keep you safe, always. 
“Thank you,” You murmured against his white shirt. 
Lando pulled away to look down into your eyes. Fuck, he hated it when you cried. It felt like he was being torn apart. He quickly wiped that one tear which barely escaped your eyes and said, “You never have to thank me for taking care of you.” He said with a slight frown. 
“I know,” You whispered and pulled him in for a kiss. A slow, gentle kiss that quickly turned into a heated, passionate one. His hands grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into him, so you could feel the very prominent bulge in his pants. 
It made you whimper just feeling it. “Fuck,” You mumbled against his lips, “Will I ever stop wanting you like this?” Your shaky hands reached down to undo his belt, then just as you reached for his zipper, your stomach grumbled so loudly you were sure all the guards outside could hear it too. 
You both froze at the sound of it, then burst out laughing. Lando threw his head back and laughed so carefreely that you fell a little bit more in love with him at that moment. You didn’t think that was possible, but here you were. 
“I would love to bend you over the counter right here baby,” He chuckled, “but I feel like we need to get some food in you.” He said, kissing your cheek and pulling away to look at you as you tried to hide your face in embarrassment. “Hey, look at me.” He grabbed you by the chin and lifted your head up. “Let’s eat, and I’ll fuck you later. Okay? I promise.” 
You gave him a shy smile, “Okay.” 
After a light dinner filled with more laughter and easy conversations, Lando helped you with storing away the cooled off muffins before the two of you finally got into that bath, with another bottle of wine. 
You carefully poured some more wine into your glass before leaning back into Lando’s chest. You sighed again, settling against him. This was your happy place. Scented candles, dimmed lights, warm bath, wine, and of course, the love of your life. 
But then as always, Lando could never keep his hands to himself. It always starts out with innocent touches, along your arm, kissed on your shoulders… then he gets more and more demanding. His fingers caressed your inner thighs until you were squirming against him, his kisses turned into playful bites making you whine and whimper. 
“You never behave.” You mumbled teasingly, closing your eyes and letting him caress and touch you however he wanted. 
“How can I?” He whispered against your neck, “You’re too beautiful to resist.” 
You let out a soft moan when his finger carefully slid inside you. You whispered, breathlessly, “Remember we flooded the bathroom the last time?” 
Lando groaned, pulling his hand away. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave.” He let out a sigh as though you’d asked him to give up breathing. 
You chuckled at his dramatics. 
The two of you ended up staying, soaking until the water got cold. Then went about your respective night time routines before finally getting in bed. Right as you lifted the covers up to get in, Lando grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him. 
“Ah! Don’t even think about it. We both know you’re gonna start snoring the moment your head hits those pillows.” He pushed you down on top of the covers and tickled you until you were breathless, your satin robe coming undone in the process and exposing your naked body underneath. “Plus, I promised you something before your belly began braying, didn’t I?” 
You shoved him playfully, arguing, “It didn’t bray!” 
Lando pinned your wrists above your head and leaned in for a quick kiss. “Pretty sure the guards will ask me if we brought in a pet donkey tomorrow morning.” 
“Lando!” You laughed, trying to get out of his grasp but he was stronger than he looked. 
He ended up shutting you up with a kiss, his bare chest pressing down against yours. His skin was damp, the chains around his neck were cold, he smelled incredible. He was all you wanted. So you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer. 
He moaned into the kiss when you arched your back, pressing up against him. When he pulled away to look down at you, his stare was fiery, his pretty eyes filled with lust. 
“I love you, you know that right?” He asked. You noticed he often did. 
You nodded quickly. “I know.” You smiled up at him, “And I love you.” 
He smiled before leaning in for a quick kiss before his mouth slowly moved down your body. Kissing along your neck, biting your breasts, kissing down your stomach, your hips, your thighs. 
You lifted your upper body up onto your elbows and met his intense stare. His pretty eyes really were your weakness. Your safe place. Your comfort. Perhaps because when you woke up after that traumatic night years ago, those eyes were the first thing you saw. They’d been your favourite thing since. 
Lando held your stare as he spread your legs further apart, settling in between them. 
He pressed his lips to your inner thigh, his mouth getting closer and closer to your core, you tipped your head back, sighing quietly as you felt his breath against you. You couldn’t help but slide your fingers into his soft, slightly damp hair.
“You’re all mine.” He whispered, his tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit, parting your wet folds with ease. His shoulders parted your legs further apart as he leaned closer. He slowly brought a finger up to your clit, sliding it agonisingly slowly down your slit, parting your wet folds again. 
You trembled under his touch. “All yours,” You sighed in bliss as he slid a finger inside you, stroking your walls gently while he placed his mouth back on your clit.
“Does my face feel too rough now, baby?” He asked. And chuckled proudly when you were only able to moan in response. 
“No…” You gasped, breathless and wanting more even as he teased your clit and finger-fucked you gently. That damn stubble of his rubbed against your poor inner thighs over and over again but you moaned in pleasure despite it all. 
You squirmed and moaned and gasped under his perfect touch. He knew you and your body too well by now, and soon, you were coming undone all over his tongue, your walls clenching violently around his finger. Your fingers scratched his scalp as you tugged harder on his hair as you came.
You were still catching your breath as Lando left small kisses up your body before he hovered above you again, staring deep into your eyes. 
“Please…” You begged, wrapping your legs around his waist again. “I need you in me.” 
Lando gave you a cocky smile before kissing you once again, the taste of you on his tongue still. You didn’t mind the roughness of his stubble this time, but you growled into the kiss because you were impatient and all he did was kiss you over and over again. 
“Impatient, are we?” Lando chuckled at your little growl, not breaking the kiss as he slowly slipped inside of you, groaning into the kiss as he went.
You gasped as he filled you up, all of him stretching you out and fitting nicely inside you. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as he moved his hips the slightest bit, making you whine at the feeling of his cock slowly moving in and out of you. 
“Fuck baby, you feel so good…” He groaned, his grip on your body tightens, possibly leaving bruises on your hips and thighs but you didn’t care. 
You would never get bored of this you realised. Of him, his touch, his warmth, his kisses… you were so glad he was yours. 
You could feel your walls clenching around him as he sped up and pounded into you, to a point where the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of him moving against your body. Nothing else in the world mattered. Your long day at work was forgotten, nothing else existed. Just you and him. 
“So fucking good…” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he bent down to bite your lower lip. 
You moaned at how perfect his lean and muscular body felt against yours. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist. His thrusts were relentless and unbearably good. You closed your eyes as you felt the pressure around your lower body; tight and hot.
Lando smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “Look at you, baby,” He whispered, “It’s like you were made just for me.” The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again. 
You were unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. The familiar pressure formed at your core and you whined again when his fingers found your clit while he pounded into you mercilessly.
“Come for me…” he whispered and that was all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him again. Whimpering and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock.
He kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under his intense gaze. He watched you in awe, lips parted, breaths in rags, heart racing. 
He almost came as well. But then he slowed down, pulled out and stopped for a moment. He caught his breath, and held back from coming no matter how much he wanted to. He needed to make you come again, he needed to hear you moan for him again. 
“Turn around for me, baby,” He spoke, caressing your thigh as you struggled to sit up. “Come on,” He urged, “Face down, ass up. Come on, baby.” 
You did as he asked, your hips and ass up while your face was pressed against the bed. You were still catching your breath when his hand reached around and touched you in between your legs, his fingers rubbed around your clit and made you tremble and moan given how sensitive you were. 
His body bent over yours, his warm, damp chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder and the back of your neck until his mouth reached your ear, “I know you’re tired, my love,” He whispered, kissing the side of your face while you caught your breath, “But I need you to come for me again. Can you do that for me, baby?” 
You nodded slowly. Lando hummed in satisfaction as he kissed along your shoulder before gripping each side of your hips, and pushing into you from behind. 
Your body was sensitive from earlier, so you whined and whimpered as he filled you up again. Your fingers gripped the covers beneath you tightly, and your mind was foggy, everything was floaty as he pounded into you. 
You reached your high quicker this time, moaning his name and coming undone just a couple of minutes later. 
You felt his thrusts becoming irregular, faster, his cock throb against your walls violently. He groaned and growled as he came, his body wrapping around you from behind. You both fell on your sides, catching your breaths and calming your hearts down. 
“You okay, pretty girl?” He asked, spooning you from behind. 
You could only nod as he kissed you on the back of your neck. 
“You did so good for me, baby.” He murmured, “Now let’s get in bed, yeah?” 
You were pretty much limp after that. So Lando cleaned you up, then himself and then got the bed ready while you just laid there with a smile on your face watching him. He ended up having to tuck you in as well, since you refused to move. 
Lando playfully groaned, “I spoil you too much.” He said, getting on his side of the bed before pulling you close to cuddle under the covers. “People warned me against spoiling my wife too much.” 
You were already half asleep at this point. Damn it, he was right about you falling asleep the moment your head hits the pillows. But still you murmured, more like slurred, “Didn’t they also tell you to shave else your wife will have burns on her inner thighs?” 
Lando chuckled, rubbing his cheek against yours purposely again, “Okay fine, I’ll shave tomorrow. Happy?” 
“Hmm,” You mumbled, already drifting off to sleep. Safe in his arms as you’ll always be. “You better,” Lando chuckled at how you desperately tried to stay awake. “Otherwise I’m gonna run away.” 
With that you were gone. Your breathing changed so Lando knew you were surely asleep. Soon you’ll start snoring softly. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. 
“Silly baby,” He whispered as he adjusted the covers so you were properly warm. “You can’t run away from me,” He whispered against your forehead as he cuddled you, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “There’s a tracking implant in your arm.” 
Then he let out a soft chuckle. “Of course, you don’t know that, do you?” He cooed, “Hmm, baby?” He kissed your forehead again. “There’s so much you don’t know.” He caressed your cheek as you began snoring softly just as he expected. 
He had always found it adorable. He continued whispering to you, knowing you couldn’t hear him. “There’s so much I have to keep from you. I hate lying to you, but it’s for your own good, baby.” 
He kept caressing your face as he spoke to himself, “Like how you mistook me for your saviour that night.” He sighed then admitted, “I was the one who attacked your father’s house. I was the rival. Then I had my men search the house after everyone was dead, and they found you unconscious and brought you to me.” He let out another sigh, pulling you closer. “You were so beautiful, baby. Even with dried up tears on your face. You were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. And I vowed to never make you cry after that night. It was the last time, I promise.” 
He paused. Then continued, “Your dad was such a pain in my ass, baby. I’m sorry I killed him. I’m sorry I killed all of them. I’m sorry I never told you the truth. How could I? You would hate me forever.” He placed a kiss on your nose, “But look,” He murmured, “All that shit brought you to me. And aren’t we happy together?” 
He let out another chuckle and said, “Wanna know another secret, pretty girl? I’m your anonymous collector. I have a warehouse full of the pieces you exhibit.” He confessed in the darkness and the silence. “I mean, what kind of a husband would I be if I don’t support my wife’s career, huh? Everything I do is to make you happy.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead again. “I love you so much, baby. It drives me insane.” Then he chuckled and added as an inside joke to himself, “Or maybe it did drive me insane already.”
2K notes · View notes
marvellous1917 · 8 months
Text
Icarus Falling
(Part 2)
Pairing: mob!Bucky x female!tattoo artist!reader
Summary: It’s gonna be a busy day. Giving a tattoo to a mobster that broke into your home was nothing compared to the fact that you can’t stop thing about how fucking hot he is.
Warnings: lots and lots of swearing, mention of crime (duh), fights, broken bones, tattoo needles, threats, think that’s it.
Part one ⬇️:
Tumblr media
A/N: AAHHHH the response to part one was actually insane!!!! I hope this second part is good enough. Love u all <3
———————
Bold is reader’s thoughts.
Italics is Bucky’s thoughts.
The size of the tattoo is in inches.
———————
Walking to the shop, your thoughts were running a mile a minute. Holy fuck, what the fuck, did last night actually happen?, James Barnes is gorgeous and made falling asleep last night really fucking difficult, screw him for making me all hot and bothered. Asshole. But one persistent one came screaming to the front- how the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank?
Unfortunately there was not a lot of time to come up with an answer to that, the shopfront coming into view as you turn the corner. Jigsaw Ink stood proud in the middle of the busy Brooklyn street, the black paint of the walls in stark contrast to the pastel pink of the florists’ to one side and the baby blue of the cafe the other.
The shop was a second home to you, the couch at the front becoming a bed for you sometimes after a night out, or if Caleb was being an ass. Frank was nice enough to let you crash when you needed, trusting you with his business. Frank, and the other two artists at the shop, Billy and Curtis were like family - a weird combination of protective older brothers and best friends who were terribly bad influences on you.
The bell on the door rang when you opened it and there was a yelled “Y/N? That you?” from a deep voice at the back of the room.
“Yeah Frankie, it’s me. I thought Billy was supposed to be here, not you?” You yelled back, moving behind the counter toward your station, dropping your bag and taking off your jacket.
“He was, but he managed to get his ass knocked out last night so he’s taking the day off,” Frank replied laughing, walking out from the back towards you.
“What? Is he ok?” You ask, giving Frank a hug when he got closer.
“Managed to piss somebody off at a bar, not really sure what happened, but he’s fine. Just stupid,” he replied, patting your back as you release him.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy but he is an idiot I swear, you can guarantee it was his fault as well,” you say.
Frank chuckle and nods as a response, “yeah I bet. Hey , you got many appointments today?” He asks.
Shit. How the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank Castle - literally the most protective man on earth - that I had to move all of my appointments to next week because a damn mobster broke into my house and demanded I gave him a tattoo today.
“…uh. No just the one, I had to move the rest,” you answer, praying to whoever was listening that Frank wouldn’t ask any questions.
“Why’s that?”
Fuucckkkk.
“Umm..no reason really..” your mind went completely blank, the only thing running through you head were those goddamn blue eyes.
“Kid, what’s going on?” Franks’ eyes narrowing, seeing straight through your bullshit response.
Ughhh. Change the subject right now. “Y’know you call me kid all the time, you’re not that much older than me Frankie. I mean there’s only-”.
“You’re ramblin’ kid. The fuck is going on?” He says, all sense of humor him from his voice.
Ah, there his is, protective Frankie coming in full force.
“Shit. Ok so here’s what happened-” you tell him the full story, coming home from work to see a dangerous criminal chilling in your apartment, the fear that came with that lovely surprise, Caleb’s debt, the weird philosophical conversation, the tattoo talk. All of it.
Of course, excluding the part where you found yourself extremely attracted to the fucking mobster, his weirdly slightly comforting presence, and the fact that the memory of those blue eyes where all you could see as your hand slipped between your legs before you fell asleep.
To be fair to the man, Frank listened to every word you had to say, not interrupting one. But you could see on his face every single emotion he was feeling, the main one being just straight up confusion.
“Lemme get this straight. The fucking Winter Soldier broke into your house last night and is coming in for a tattoo in..” he checked his watch as he spoke, “..an hour?”
“..yeah.” Hit the nail on the head there Frankie.
“Shit.” He says, rubbing his hand over his face in an act of desperation.
“Yep.” You say, patting his arm to try and reassure him.
“Alright, I’m gonna be here the whole time, don’t you worry about that kid. You’re gonna be fine.” He assures you, obviously worried about you.
“I know that Frankie, and if it’s any consolation, he didn’t seem all that bad.” You answer.
“Not that bad?!” He almost shouts, and incredulous look on his face, “Y/N he’s a fucking gangster. He’s fucking danger-“
“FRANK!” You yell, the only way to cut off his tirade before it starts. “I know that, but last night he didn’t do anything bad,okay, and if he wanted to hurt me, he definitely would have done it by now. I’ll be fine Frank, I’ll just give him the tattoo and that will be it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta set everything up.” You say, moving back to your station, beginning to grab everything you need.
“Holy fuck kid, how are you not freaking the fuck out right now?” He whisper shouts, running one hand up and down his head.
“I’m not sure. I think…I think I trust him not to hurt me. It’s weird, but my gut’s telling me I’ll be fine.” You answer, starting to print some different sized stencils.
“Kid your brain is brok-” Frank starts to say but he’s cut off by his phone ringing. He pulls it from his pocket and says “Shit, it’s my kids’ school, I gotta take it.”
You wave him off, Frank answers the phone with a sigh.
He walks off to the back of the shop, leaving you to finish setting up your station. Frank talks for a minute and wander back towards you.
“My girl got into a fight at school, Maria’s busy at work so I’ve got to go get her,” he says, dragging his hands down his face, in a way only an exasperated father could.
“Oh my god is she ok?” You ask.
“She’s fine, but apparently she broke some little shitheads nose for picking on her friends,”
“Like father, like daughter then,” you respond with a laugh.
“Can the people I care about stop getting themselves in dangerous situations for like five goddamn seconds.” Frank says, throwing a pointed glare your way.
“Frankie, how many times, I’m gonna be fine alright, go get your kid and -I dunno- take her out for ice cream, tell her she did good.” You say, pushing him to the door.
“Only if you’re one hundred percent certain you’ll be fine.” He says, already pulling his jacket from the hook.
“I’m good I swear, now go!”
“Ok ok I’m going, stop pushing me” he says, leaving the shop and letting the door fall closed behind him, the bell ringing as it did.
Only a minute passed before your phone pinged with a text.
James:
Have you already forgotten about me that quickly doll?
Send me the address to the shop
Now… please
Fuck me. Why does just his text give me fucking butterflies. Ugh. How irritating.
You send him the address and his response is cheeky as shit.
James:
See you at 1 doll, you better be wearing something pretty for me.
Little shit.
————
You had the music in the shop bumping, using it to help calm your pounding heart, adrenaline starting to get the best of you. Your favourite song came over the speakers so you turned it up and started to dance a little, knowing that you had at least 10 minutes before Barnes turned up. Unfortunately this action caused you to miss the ringing of the bell on the door.
Holy shit - ink and a show, today is going better than expected already.
Bucky slowly let the door close, trying not to disturb the dancing girl he couldn’t get out of his head. He lent against the wall, just watching and waiting…and staring.
Shaking out your hands to get rid of any nerves, you turn and nearly scream when you see Barnes stood at the door.
“Oh god, sorry I didn’t hear you come in,” you say, subtly looking him up and down and damn he looks good. Ever the powerful mobster, he wore a black suit, his black shirt had no tie and was unbuttoned at the top. His hair was slicked back from his face, opposite to how it was the night before. This was the other side of him, the business man - James Barnes: the face of multiple charities, the man that law enforcement could never seem to put behind bars. Last night you met the threat, the assassin, and you may be one of the first in his history to survive a meeting with the Soldier.
“No problem doll, I was enjoying the show,” he says, pushing off of the wall and stalking towards you.
Oh my god, “oh..ok, well I have everything set up and ready so if you’re ok to start I say let get going,” you respond, turning to the part of the shop where your station was, nerves flooding back, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.
“Damn girl, not even any small talk?” He asks, slowly following you to the table.
“Oh sorry, I would have asked how your day has been so far, but I didn’t want you to think I was prying into your business. I wouldn’t want you to think I was being disrespectful ab-”
“Ramblin’ again doll, thought I told you that you don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said softly, sounding genuine. “I know what people say about me, I understand why you would be nervous, but I just ask you to not believe everything you hear, ok doll? I’m not who they say I am.” His tone was gentle, almost tired but still pleading, hoping you believe him.
“So you’re not a mobster?” You ask, voice low and calm.
“Oh no I am,” he responds with a small laugh, “I am, and I do what gangsters do. But I am not the ruthless animal I’m made out to be, doll I’m just not. I do what needs to be done.”
His voice breaks slightly on the pet name. His tone is so sincere and tired. Oh my..he’s telling the truth. It actually affects him to hear that about himself.
“Ok,” you respond, siting on your stool next to your station and the table, looking up at him with no fear in your eyes, trusting his words.
“Ok? That’s your response?” He asks, moving around the table to sit on it directly in-front of you.
“Yeah. What did you want me to do Barnes, not believe you?” You ask, all fear gone from your voice.
“Of course not,” he says, confusion laced in his voice, his eyebrows furrowed, “but I wasn’t expecting you to believe me immediately, shit you were scared of me like a minute ago.”
“I know but I think I trust you? You haven’t done anything to me, y’know other than breaking into my apartment. I trust you when you say you’re not someone I should be afraid of.” You answer truthfully.
“…good.” He says, at a loss of what to say next.
“Good. So, Barnes, are we doing this or what?” You ask.
“Yeah let’s do it doll, and please, call me Bucky.” He responds, shrugging off his jacket, folding it and placing it on the head of the table. You had to make a conscious effort to not stare at the way his arms filled out his shirt, but damn it was hard. He sat silently waiting for you to talk.
“Ok..Bucky.. tell me about what size and what placement you want for this.” You say, “I printed some sizes out because I wasn’t sure what size you wanted, and I can reprint or adjust it based in what you want.”
“Oh you a real professional, huh? Not gonna lie to you doll, that serious voice is kinda getting me goin’” he says, smirk on his face, leaning back on his arms, lifting his hips and moving slightly on the table.
Fuck me, what is this man doing to me? He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s talking again.
“I want to get it on my forearm, the inside, and I think that size looks good,” he says, pointing to the 10x8 you printed.
“Ok that sounds good, which arm were you thinking?”
Silence. He stares down at you, an unreadable look on his face. You break eye contact and then freeze.
Shit. Shit. You dumbass. Which arm? Which fucking arm? Are you kidding? I can literally see his metal fucking hand. Oh dear god.
The silence between you goes on for entirely too long. You’re not sure whether you should apologise or wait for him to speak first. You weren’t sure if he would be offended, having a reminder of his injury.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just continues to stare down at you, that blank look on his face. Looking back up at him, you start to apologise but the words get caught in your throat. His eyes. He couldn’t control them the same way he did his face, tons of different emotions flowing through them, none lasting long enough for you to understand before another one took its place.
If only you knew what he was actually thinking. She asked which arm. She knows about my arm, everyone does, but she still asked. She forgot. The arm is all people see, a weapon, an instrument used to inflict nothing but pain. It’s all people see, but she forgot. That’s not what she sees. Maybe…maybe she just sees me.
He’s shuts his racing thoughts down, fully aware of how awkward the silence was becoming. “I’m thinking my right arm might be a little easier for you doll,” he says, an amused look crossing his face, his tongue poking his cheek.
You open your mouth to apologise for your mistake but he holds up his right hand and says, “and please, you don’t have to apologise like I know you’re going to, we’re all good darlin’.”.
He’s gotta stop with the pet names before I melt.
“Ok, uh, are you sure, because I honestly meant no disrespect or anything. I-,” you start, but Bucky cut you off quickly.
“Darlin’, what did I just say?” A stern tone coats his words and goddamn does it send a shiver down your spine. You internally roll your eyes and look away, back to your station, when you feel two warm fingers on your jaw, turning your head back to looks at him. Holy fuck. He places his thumb on the other side of your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him as he leans in closer. His voice was low when he said, “That wasn’t a rhetorical question, Y/N, what did I just say?”
Jesus fucking wept. Somehow his use of your name made your heart pound, and the fact that his hand was so warm and strong holding onto your face.
“You said we’re all good..” you answer trailing off at the end of your sentence. His eyes don’t move from yours for a second.
“And?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.
Christ alive.
“I don’t have to apologise..” you say, eyes flicking between his and falling to his lips for a second and then back to his eyes.
“That’s right darlin’,” his eyes dropped to your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his lip. “So stop, okay?” He says, lifting your chin to catch your eye.
“Yes sir.” It’s an automatic response but you can’t help but be a little proud of yourself when he lets out a small throaty growl at the name.
“Careful doll.” He responds, letting go and leaning back, “How about we get started before I do something you regret, hmm?”
Like I could regret you.
You turn back to your station to try and clear your head of all the dirty thoughts running wild. “Ok.. Bucky, if you could roll up your sleeve so I can wipe the area, I’ll place the stencil and you can check if it’s where you want it to be.” You say, not used to the name he said to call him by.
“Mhm,” he hums, releasing the cuff link on his right sleeve, his prosthetic catching the glare of the light above, the plates shining. He places the cuff link in the pocket of his jacket and begins rolling up his sleeve and folds it at his elbow.
You clean the area and place the stencil straight on his arm, and peel it off.
“There’s a mirror on the wall over there, you can check if it’s alright.” You say.
“Okie dokie doll,” he responded the furrowed his brows, like he was confused at why he said that, not very gangster of him.
I like him. He says okie dokie.
“Looks good there darlin’, and as much as I hate to say it, we gotta speed this up a little, I’m expecting a call at some point around 2:30 and I’d prefer you not have to hear it.” He says, coming back to the table, sitting down and swinging his legs up onto it.
You take his arm, putting it on the rest in a position easiest for tattooing while saying “Why’s that? Would you have to kill me if I overheard your call?” You ask, enough humor in your voice for him to know you’re joking.
“Probably, depends how much you hear.” He said, completely deadpan. He looks at you and you have the strangest feeling that he actually wouldn’t hurt you either way.
“Shit ok. Is that position comfortable for you?”
“I’m all good darlin’, let’s go,” he says, adjusting his position on the table slightly. His left arm rests across his stomach as he sits on the table, leaning against the backrest, his ankles crossed.
“Ok I’m gonna do a small line so you know how it feels,” you look at him and he nods. You draw a line about 2 centimetres long then stop, “how’s that?” You ask.
“Ain’t nothin’ doll, keep goin’.” He responds.
“Ok here we go.” You say, getting back to it.
————
You’ve been tattooing for about 40 minutes, and there hasn’t been a word spoken between the both of you. His arm kept flexing whenever you moved away, and he kept clenching his jaw, like he was in pain but was refusing to admit it, even to himself.
“Are you ok? We can stop for five if you want a break? I’ve just finished the outline so I’ve got to change needles anyway.” You ask, disrupting the silence between you, moving the machine away from his arm so you can switch to a higher grouping for the blackwork.
“I’m fine Y/N, how much longer do you think it’ll take?” He asks, moving his head to look at the outline that you had completed.
“Oh it’s hard to say, but probably another 30 at least,” you respond, looking at him while he was admiring the tattoo so far.
God he’s pretty.
“Shit.” He says, rubbing his forehead with his other hand.
“Are you worried about your call?” You ask calmly.
“Not worried about the call itself… just having to do it here may cause some issues.” He responds, lowering his hand to his thigh.
“Because I’m here? I can go to a different room if you want?” You say, placing the machine back on your station, and turning to look at him fully.
“It’s ok doll, to be honest with you, nothing that needs to be said will make any sense to you anyway, and I mean that in the least offensive way possible.” He says, looking at you with apologetic face, tilting his head slightly. “But depending on the news I get, I wouldn’t want my reaction to… scare you.”
“Oh.. well I guess we’ll see when your call comes.” You answer, unsure of how to react to that.
————
The sharp ringing of his phone interrupts the sounds of the machine. You move the machine away from him, turning it off so he could speak freely without noise.
“I really am sorry about this darlin’, but it’s important-”
“Answer it then, it’s fine Bucky.” You cut him off, concerned he was going to miss it if he kept talking.
He gave you another apologetic look, and then turned his back to you to get off the table and answer the call.
You sat in silence as he started to speak.
“Rogers, what did ya find?” His voice changes from how he speaks to you, deeper and more serious.
The person on the other line speaks for a moment before Bucky responds, “we already knew that, didn’t we? What new information did you find?”
Silence.
“Of course he is..,” there is anger in his tone now, “get someone to tell the asshole he can threaten what he likes, I’m not sitting down with him.”
A moment goes by and you think that may have been the end of it, until you see his shoulders tense and-
“FUCK NO!” He shouts, making you jump a little.
“No Rumlow Gets Nothing, I don’t give a shit what he’s doing… Then send the commissioner a goddam gift basket Steve, some portraits of his family would be nice, remind him why he pays us the fucking protection fee.” He seethes at the man down the phone.
This should not be turning me on, shit.
“For fucks sake… Walker is nothing Steve, just some fucking Nazi junkie with a rich daddy, trying to get his hands on my shit…get Nat to bring his ass in, I’ll deal with it Steve… I said I’d deal with it.”
His tone on the last sentence sends a shiver down your spine, what the fuck does ‘deal with it’ mean?
“Ah shit is he ok?” Bucky asks, tone soft now, caring even, “Damn, he’s gonna be out for blood now.. good for him.. give Clint the week off, find the guys and give the pricks to him, let him get out some of his pent up craziness out.”
Oh Clint sounds fun.
“Ok, alright I gotta go now man. Yeah I’m at the shop… nah it’s nothing..yeah ya did… ok fuck off now.. later man.”
He hangs up the phone, takes a death breath and pinches the place between his eyebrows, his other hand going to his hip. He stands like that before he turns back to you, with a small awkward smile. That was cute.
“Sorry about that doll, hope I didn’t upset ya,” he says, walking around the table and looking down at you.
“You didn’t. I gotta ask though, is your friend or whoever ok?” You ask, not bringing up the start of the call where the man in-front of you all but admitted to a multitude of crimes - blackmail, extortion, supplying drugs. He sounded different- genuine when he asked if the man was ok. It was sweet.
“Clint? Yeah no he’s fine, got jumped last night so he’s pissed about it, but he’s ok, worst thing he got were some nasty bruises and a broken finger.” Bucky responds, confusion on his face, wondering why you care.
“How did he break a finger?” you ask, moving backwards as he sits back on the table.
“Oh he didn’t go down without a fight, clocked one of them on his way out,” he says with a small chuckle.
“Ah, good for crazy Clint,” you say with a smile.
Bucky let’s out a sharp quick laugh, “that exactly what I thought doll,” he says, leaning back and putting his arm on the rest, “ready when you are.” He adds.
Ok right back to it. Got it boss.
“Ok, should only be about 10 more minutes.” You say.
“Alright doll.” He answers, leaning his head back on the rest, tilting his head so he could watch you.
Ten minutes later you were finished, putting your machine down for the final time.
“Okie dokie, I’m all done. Have a look in the mirror, see what ya think,” you say, hoping he liked it, not much you could do about it if he didn’t.
He moves over to the mirror, checking out his new ink, twisting his arm around to see it fully. He’s silent for a little while before he says, “fuck doll, you’re a damn artist.”
“Does that mean you like it?” You ask, failing to hide the hope in your voice.
“I love it. Couldn’t have asked for a better one for my first piece.” He says, walking forwards to stand in-front of you, letting you wrap the fresh tattoo, handing him a leaflet on aftercare as you talk.
“You’re shitting me,” you say, “was that seriously your first one?”
“Yeah, why are you so surprised darlin?” He responds, tilting his head.
“I don’t know, just sorta thought you’d have them all over.” You answer.
“All over, huh. You been thinking about me naked doll?” He says with a cheeky grin, talking half a step closer to you.
Shit.
“What, n-no of course not, why would I do that. I mean I’m sure you look good - uh fine.. naked but I don’t-” you cut yourself off before you embarrass yourself anymore.
“No, no ramble on Y/N please, I’m really enjoying watching you try to figure your way out of the grave you’re digging right now,” he says, chucking lightly.
“Shut up Bucky, leave me alone” you responds, looking down at your feet.
“Hey,” he grabs your chin, again, and add pressure until you’re looking up at his eyes, “don’t ever try and tell me what to do, darlin, I don’t tend to respond well to it. I won’t ‘shut up’ and I’ll never ‘leave you alone’… I like ya too much for that.” He says, sounding like a mix between a threat and a compliment.
“Uh.. okay.” You answer, not sure how to respond to his words.
He can tell that you don’t know what to say, so he mercifully breaks the silence. “I love the tattoo doll, it’s looks amazing. You’ve got a talent Y/N.” He drops his hand from your chin as he speaks.
“Thank you, Bucky. It means a lot.” You answer sincerely.
“How much do I owe you sweetheart?” He asks, reaching into his jacket for his wallet.
That’s a new one.
“Uh, say $180?” You respond.
“$180? Damn you gotta charge more than that doll,” he says pulling some bills from his wallet.
He hands you the bills and says “now that’s for today and it should cover next time too, take half for now and half for then.”
You’re stunned by the fact that he’s already planning for next time but your jaw actually drops when you look at the bills.
They were hundreds.
“Woah I think you gave me the wrong bills,” you say, trying to push the bills back in his hands.
“No I didn’t, I know what I gave you. $180 for today, say $200 for next time and the rest is tip.” He answers smoothly, folding your hand back over the bills.
You look down to count and start shaking your head, “I can’t accept this, it’s way too much.”
“Consider it a thank you for dealing with the inconvenience of me having to do business in the middle of the appointment.” He says with a smile.
“Bucky this is 2000 dollars.”
“I know.” He puts up his hand again, stopping you from talking, “I’m not taking it back doll, just have it will ya?” He says, rolling his sleeve back down, doing the cuff back up with the cufflink and placing his jacket back on.
“Oh my god, you’re serious aren’t you?” You ask, unbelievable he wanted you to have over fifteen hundred dollars as tip.
“Yes I am.” He answers, straightening his jacket, “it also may be a small bribe.”
There it is.
“A bribe for what?” You ask, expecting his to ask you to keep quiet about his call.
“I want you to be my artist, anytime I want a tattoo, I want you doing it for me.” He says, smiling down at you with a hint of…something him his eye.
“Really?” You ask in shock, not expecting that from him.
“Yeah, like I said earlier, you got talent. I want more of you on me.” Bucky says smirking at the euphemism he made.
Fuck me running.
“Oh..shit.. yeah ok, that sounds..,” you swallow heavily, “sounds like a plan.” You smile up at him, trying to hide the way his words affected you.
He smiles back, stepping closer and closer until his chest is almost touching yours.
“Yes it’s does. You’re mine now doll,” he says, a dark look in his eye. You swallow hard again and your breath stutters at his words, eyes going straight to the floor. He notices your reaction and smirks, “my artist, I mean.” He continued.
“Although, judging by your little reaction there, I’d bet you be ok with that, wouldn’t you doll?” He says, his tone slightly mocking.
You say nothing.
He hums, then places his right hand on your cheek and tilts your head so you’re looking him in the eye again.
“Would you?” He asks softly.
“Maybe,” you whisper, a cocky smile breaking out on his face.
“Maybe, huh? ‘Mkay, guess I’ll just have to convince you then doll.” He says back, leaning closer, eyes going to your lips before he looks back up, giving you a chance to get out of the situation.
“Guess so.” You respond, some confidence back in your voice.
He hums again, and then he’s kissing you. His kiss is forceful but somehow still gentle, like he’s holding back as much as he can.
Fucking finally you can’t help but think as you move your hand to his wrist, the other one going to his left bicep, the feel of the solid metal under your hand was new, but not unwelcome.
His metal hand moves, wrapping around your back and pulling you against him, deepening the kiss when you gasp.
Reluctantly, you break the kiss when you run out of air. He leans back, the pressure on your back relieving a bit.
“Damn doll, what the fuck are you doing to me?” He asks, biting his bottom lip.
“Something good, hopefully.” You respond cheekily.
He groans, leaning his head back. “Yeah hopefully darlin’. I hate to say it sweetheart but I gotta get going.” He says, releasing his hold on you. He moves towards the door and for a second you think he going to leave without another word, until he turns back and says “I’ll talk to you later doll, keep your phone on or I’ll drop by.” He finished his sentence with a wink, and then he’s gone, the bell on the door ringing behind him.
Fuucckk. Maybe I’ll break my phone so he has to come by. Who knew the fucking Winter Soldier was actually a gorgeous softie under it all.
————
A/N: Ta da! Finally complete!! Love everyone of you that read this, mwah 😘
I can’t tag anyone else on this post so I will tag the rest in a separate post.
Tags:
@sleepyghostygirl @starlightaurorab @scrynexxtins @where-the-river-bends @imagines-of-the-fandom @bigenargy @uraverageatiny @squeezyvalkyrie @mylifeispainandiloveit @mrvlxgrl @bopbeepboopbopbeep @yvessaintmuerte @thecubanator2 @flubblubbb @teambarnes72 @ria132love @pingpongfingfong @cashhvi @rivthejellyfish @mybakubaby @blue-chup @goatsmcgee @facinated-lemon @daddylorianisastateofmind @buckybarnesb-tch @yeahimcrying @shifting2places @fand0mskullfa1ry @1-800-bxrnes @amiets2 @aliabhatt19 @leabunny @justmarlen3 @bofadeezs @jehduxi @grey107th @king-of-spades-aroace @sebismyhubby @princezzjasmine @sebastianstanswhore @cluckityduck @shuriri4life @calwitch @goodkittyspost @iateall-yourcookies @miss-i-ship-it @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @anawhitethorn @radiator-hands @tripletstephaniescp
2K notes · View notes
gaysindistress · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
No one asked for this butttt here's a little fake dating drabble I wrote for @bucks-and-noble's Valentrope fest.
Part two
bucky's masterlist | main masterlist
Tumblr media
“I hate you.”
“It’ll pass.”
“No I actually hate you.”
Bucky sighs as he slumps into the hard chair he keeps saying he’s going to get rid of. A glass of whiskey dangles from his hand that is draped over the chair’s arm.
“You don’t hate me, doll. I don’t think you even have it in you to hate me or anyone for that matter.”
From my spot curled up in the chair opposite of him, I glower at him. I’m trying to get him to agree to the half baked plan I came up with trying to sleep last night but he’s not budging. All I need him to do is pretend to be my boyfriend for a wedding this weekend. I already have the backstory for us figured out and I even came up with a few ways for us to break up. All he needs to do is sit pretty, remember our story, and pretend to be in love with me.
“Don’t ‘doll’ me, Barnes. I could not hate you more than I do right now.” I try to sound serious but it’s like a toddler trying to say hospital; it doesn’t sound right no matter how many times I try.
He takes a sip of his drink, eyeing me as the nasty liquid slips past his lips and down his throat. I’ve never understood how he can drink something that tastes so awful and burns going down.
“What about Sam? I can pay him to do it.”
Groaning, I throw my head back and squeeze my eyes shut.
“No Bucky. It has to be you. Sam’s great but I-kind-of-already-told-everyone-about-you.” The last part is incredibly rushed and I really hope that he didn’t hear it.
My hopes are crushed though. He coughs and chocks on his whiskey.
“I’m sorry. You did what now?” He rasps out in a scratchy voice.
“Dont make me say it again.”
I hear him get up and softly approach me. His shoes make almost no sound as he walks across the Persian rug he let me pick out last year. He told me his office needed updating and handed me his black card. Obviously I had to buy everything that I wanted so that when he wanted to update again, I could take it all home.
Bucky crouches in front of me and puts his hands on my knees. My head lolls forward and I stare down at him with puppy dog eyes. It’s not going to work but it’s worth a shot.
“No, no doll put those away.” He whispers to me with a light squeeze to my knees, “now tell me what you did again.”
“I already told everyone about you.”
“And who is everyone?”
“Buckyyyy,” I whine and try to pull my legs away but he holds them in place. “Please don’t be mean right now.”
He chuckles at my manipulation. Shaking his head, he stands up and leans over me, placing a hand on either side of my chair. His cologne is faint after his long day but I can still smell hints of its vanilla and tobacco notes.
“If you want me to play your boyfriend then you’ll have to toughen up. I can’t have my girl,” he murmurs as he brushes those plump lips against my cheekbone, “crying the second I tell her no.”
My heart stutters when he starts to trail light kisses from my cheek to the corner of my lips. Like a true tease, he skips over to the other corner and then kisses the tip of my nose.
“Can you do that for me?”
“Are you going to come with me?” I shoot back.
Bucky smirks against my lips. “Of course I am, doll.”
714 notes · View notes
hansensgirl · 18 days
Text
💸 — 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 (1/3)
summary. | The mob boss has an alternate way you can pay off your debt.
Tumblr media
pairing. | dark!mob boss!Ari Levinson x innocent/naive!fem!reader.
chapter warnings. | NON/DUBCON, dark themes, obsession, stalking, mob themes, manipulation, pet names, age gap, innocence kink, abuse of power, corruption kink, power imbalance, smoking (ari), drinking (ari), debt, Daddy kink, anxiety/fear, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
word count. | ~1.5k.
author’s note. | here it is! this series is a continuation of the dark!mob boss!ari drabble that i posted for my Dark Concepts (2023) event. please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog! any and all feedback (positive) is welcome. no beta, all mistakes are my own. taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The weight of the debt sits heavy on your shoulders, dragging you down. It’s the source of your worries, the thing that makes you sick when you wake up and realize your dreams haven’t come true just yet. 
You find it hard to breathe as one of Ari’s associates leads you to the leader’s office. You don’t know this man’s name, but you notice that he walks with such confidence that you wonder if you’re headed to the lion’s den, only now taking your final steps and breaths. 
You also note that the man doesn’t keep a hand on his gun as usual. You clearly aren’t a threat—what could a little thing like you do to the big, bad mob boss?
Nothing, that’s what. Ari Levinson is untouchable. No one dares to cross him, and the ones that do always end up at the bottom of the nearest river or mailed piece-by-piece to their family members. 
The man knocks on the door a few times, and the sounds are arranged in a way that sounds like a pattern. You force yourself to forget it immediately. The man blocks you from seeing the handle and keys in a code. You take this moment to look around the hallway.
It’s ornate—elegant. The carpet is clean, and beautiful pieces of art hang on the walls. This isn’t what you expected. You pictured water stains and the smell of blood and rotting bodies. Instead, your nostrils are filled with the scent of cigarette smoke and sandalwood. 
The door opens, and the associate nods his head, motioning you to enter. You do as he says with shaking legs, knees on the verge of buckling from fear.
Ari Levinson welcomes you in and ushers you to sit wherever you’d like, and you relieve your trembling limbs when you sit in front of his oak desk. The chair is comfortable—nice and soft. The set it came in is probably worth half as much as what you owe the mob boss.
“Do you need anything to eat or drink? I can make some coffee or tea,” he offers. “N– no, thank you, sir,” you nearly whisper, scared and, therefore, quiet. Ari gives you a smile as he rubs his beard, flashing the tattoos, scars, and rings that decorate his hand. 
You don’t have a chance to gander what the ink represents. The amount of people he has killed would be too permanent and on the nose. He’d have to change that one daily.
“Shy, aren’t ya? Don’t worry. I don’t bite unless you ask me to,” he chuckles, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. You can spy smoke swirling from an ashtray, a cigarette freshly put out sitting inside. You bite your tongue as the urge to rattle off all the reasons why it’s bad for him comes up. He’d probably shoot you just for that, right?
“So, what did you need to talk about?” Ari starts for you, and for a second, you forget why you’ve come here. Your nerves have always made you absentminded. It’s a terrible issue you’ve suffered from since you were taking tests in school. You search for words to form thoughts.
The debt. A few beats of silence pass as you try to prepare your speech, and Ari watches you intently the entire time. He is unmoving. He only smiles when you make eye contact with him or sip his whiskey. “You want something from me? You gotta ask nicely,” he eventually adds. 
“S– Sir, I never knew my family owed you money,” you begin, taking a deep breath. “Of course you wouldn’t, baby. That was many years ago, and I doubt an innocent thing like you knows what goes on around here,” he grins.
“Yes, well, I was hoping I could have some more time to pay it off. I don’t make much at my job, but I promise I’ll get you your money back,” you explain, hands flying out of anxiety. Ari hums as if considering your offer. 
It isn’t the first time he has heard something like this, but it is the first time a sweet girl like you has come begging before him. Usually, it’s men who should know better or women who think they’re well aware of what they’re dealing with. 
“The interest is a bit much, but I can handle it. Please, I just need some more time,” you plead, and you wonder if you’ve spoken too much. Or perhaps your request is too outlandish. Either way, you worry that you’re doomed. 
There is more silence and then a deep sigh from the burly man in front of you.
“You make a good case for yourself, pumpkin,” he tells you. You look at Ari, raising your gaze from your lap, where your thumbs twiddle. “But now that I think about it, I really don’t need your money. I have more than enough of my own, anyway,” Ari snickers.
You force a smile. You wish you were in that position where you didn’t have to worry about making ends meet daily. He mirrors your grin, but the mob boss’s seems genuine.
“I– I’m sorry, sir. I don’t quite understand,” you admit to him sheepishly. Ari coos at you. “That’s alright, bunny. What I’m saying is that you don’t have to pay the loan back,” he says, and you’re filled with elation. Your body feels lighter, and you wonder if this is another one of your dreams.
You could nearly jump for joy, but you know you should restrain yourself in front of the city’s most dangerous man. Instead, you settle for grinning until your cheeks hurt and giggling. “Oh, my. Thank you so much, sir! That means the world to me—you don’t understand,” you cheer.
Ari chuckles at your happiness before the smile on his face fades. “But that doesn’t mean you can just walk away freely, baby,” he tells you, and you can feel your bubble bursting. Is this it? The end of your life? Your smile drops, and your heart beats faster.
“Don’t worry, your punishment won’t be anything bad. In fact, you’ll probably end up loving it as much as me,” Ari continues, and he stands up. Your neck cranes as you watch him, never fully understanding his… enormity until now. 
Ari walks towards you and kneels in front of you. He places his warm, rough hands on your knees. These hands have been stained with blood, and they’ve also been wrapped around his cock as he has thought dirty things about you.
“You’ll be my perfect little plaything for the rest of the year. No ifs, ands, or buts. Unless you want me to add to your debts… Increase your interest?” Ari threatens, and you’re quick to shake your head. You’re not sure what the position entails, but you hope it’s much better than being tortured or picking up more shifts to give each penny to the burly man.
“Good girl,” the older man coos. “I’ve been dying to have you on my arm, angel.” Ari grabs your hands and pulls them to his face. You don’t fight him. Your body is malleable under his touch—it’s like you’re in some kind of a reverie. He presses chaste kisses to your knuckles, rubbing your fingers gently as his gaze does not waver.
You can’t help but wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into. Ari knows this—and he also knows that no matter what, his voracity—his need for you—would have been met, whether you like it or not.
Tumblr media
The journey home is a blur. You’re not in your body, simply a ghost stuck in a machine. When you go inside, you peer through the sheer fabric of your curtains to see the car speed off. Ari insisted a driver take you wherever you’d like—of course, not out of his turf. 
Ari. Your phone feels heavier than usual. He took it from you and added his name as a priority contact. Well, not his name, but Daddy. The title is accompanied by a lone heart emoji, nothing pink or vibrant. Dark, just like his soul. You want to laugh at the cliché but restrain yourself from doing so.
You sit on your couch and let out the shaky breath you never realized you were holding. Oddly, the tears don’t come, even though your throat burns with a loud sob ready to be unleashed. You know you should be thankful—it could be worse, you could be dead—but you don’t feel elation.
Ari is nice, right? He was nice to you, at least. What frightens you is that he doesn’t seem to take ‘no’ as an answer. But you force yourself to think positively. Perhaps he’s a gentleman. The next four months will fly by—they always do. You hope so, at least.
658 notes · View notes
Text
His Most Prized Possession
Tumblr media
Pairing || Dark!Mob!Bucky x Wife!Reader
Summary || You’re the wife of the most feared man in all of New York City, James Buchanan Barnes, the mob boss of the biggest mafia in town. Your his—his girl, his beauty, his love, his property, his most prized possession. He will torture and kill anyone who dares to make any advances on his woman, and he won’t hesitate to show them who you belong to in the most sinful way possible before their end…
Word Count || 8876
Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Smut, Angst, Dark Themes — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, slight dub-con, Dark!Jealous!Possessive!Bucky, angry/vicious!Bucky, soft!Bucky, mob/mafia business, mention of drugs/alcohol, violence, implied use of weapons, implied torture, blood, murder, crying, use of force, graphic/explicit content/language, pet names (doll, baby, babe, princess + others), unprotected vaginal sex, exhibition kink, forced voyeurism, daddy kink, spit kink, degradation & praise kink, use of the word whore, dom/sub dynamics, oral (m & f receiving), teasing, begging, face/throat fucking, gagging, fingering, spanking, choking, rough fucking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, cum swallowing, creampie, mention of bodily fluids, aftercare.
Authors Note || After a lot of work it’s finally done! I’m so proud of this! Please enjoy this twisted and sinful journey! Feedback would be so much appreciated on this piece <3 I want to know what you think!
Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!
Mob!Bucky Masterlist
I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!
Tumblr media
The Underground Lounge
It was the most high-profile club in all of New York City. A place for criminals, the filthy rich, politicians and like-minded people to converge in secrecy for whatever they desire with no repercussions, whether that be alcohol, drugs, women, sex or just a fun time. Everything and anything went down here.
The club was nestled deep below The Blend nightclub, which acted as a cover for the underworld of crime below.
They were both owned by James Buchanan Barnes—Bucky amongst friends and loved ones. The most feared man in all of the city and the mob boss of the biggest and baddest mafia in town. He was also your husband. Your dangerous, vicious and sexy husband.
You and Bucky would usually be at the club on the weekends for some party and fun, which you were right now.
The VIP area that was only reserved for Bucky and company was slightly elevated over the rest of the club—giving Bucky the best view to look over his domain. It also showed the guests that they were nothing compared to the boss sitting on the high throne. The VIP area had an abundance of seating places—fitting several people. All compacted in a sizeable curved couch with a low circular table in the middle to put drinks on or other substances, for that matter. There was also enough space for Bucky’s security to keep a lookout over the club and its activities.
Today it was only you and Bucky attending. No friends, no other company, except for your security detail.
With a good percentage of alcohol in your system, you and he were all over each other—lips sloppily crashing into one another as you moaned and groaned into each other's mouths and hands roamed both your bodies.
You'd unbuttoned a few buttons of his white long-sleeved shirt—wanting to feel his collarbone and chest underneath your fingertips as you made out. His dark blue velvet dress jacket was tossed to the side long ago. Your other hand rested delicately on top of his covered bulge—palming him ever so often.
Bucky’s hand kept a tight grip on your naked upper thigh; the short little dress you wore barely covered anything, giving him easy access to your skin. His other held your throat gently in his grasp, making it impossible to move away from him not that you wanted to.
Ever so slightly, he inches his way higher up your thigh, hicking your dress up with his moves, as he caressed your delicate skin with his rough hands, making you moan and whimper into his mouth. His end goal was to get into your panties—wanting to force his fingers knuckle-deep into you and have you make a mess all over them.
It wasn't unusual for him and you to get a little naughty together in the club. On multiple occasions, you'd have his fingers deep inside your pussy or straddle his lap to grind yourself on his clothed cock. And occasionally giving him a handjob here and there.
You'd think he would be against having you so exposed to everyone’s prying eyes since he was always so protective and possessive over you in day-to-day life. But on the contrary, he loved showing you off here. It gave him the power to assert his dominance over you and make everyone know that you're his—his girl, his beauty, his love, his property and his most prized possession.
This was his club—his rules—his everything. Everyone knew not to mess with the mob boss's precious wife. Not unless they had a death wish.
Your body tingled in anticipation of having his digits buried deep inside you. You were so ready for it. So needy for it, but… God, did you really have to pee now, urgently.
“Bucky.”
His name came out in a moan rather than a plea for him to stop with his touches, making him think you wanted more. He swiped your damp panties with his thumb while his lips assaulted your neck with licks, kisses and bites, making you whine even more.
“Bucky!”
You placed your hands on his chest, shoving him lightly off you, making him stop with his kisses and retract his hand from under your dress.
“What!”
An annoyed tone was laced in his voice, but that quickly turned into concern as he thought something was wrong.
“What is it, baby?”
His thumb caressed your cheek lovingly as he tried to search your face for any discomfort. There was none, so he didn’t understand why you'd make him stop.
“I just really need to go pee.”
He nodded his head in understanding and was about to call for one of the security to accompany you, but you stopped him before he could.
“No! I can go on my own.”
“Doll…”
He cocked his head to the side. He didn’t like that. He didn’t want you going on your own.
Although the club was a safe space for you to wander around due to everyone knowing who you were and not daring to approach you under any circumstances, Bucky still wanted you looked after due to the reason that occasionally a rouge and unwanted person managed to get into the club, despite the tight security, and cause chaos and bothering the other club patrons. But that rarely happened, and right now, you just wanted to go on your own without having anyone on your tail all the time.
“Please, Bucky,” you pleaded with those puppy-dog eyes you knew he couldn't resist, “if I'm not back in 15 minutes, you can come and find me.”
“Alright, princess,” he pecked your lips, “but hurry back to me, baby,” and once more, “because I need to bury my fingers in your tight little pussy….”
He cupped your core harsh, making you moan out at the roughness. Bucky groaned out as he touched what belonged to him.
“... my tight little pussy.”
He growled in your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand and your core pulsate at his filthy words.
“I’ll be right back, babe.”
You gave him one last peck before you got up and fixed your dress—the material had bundled up your hips entirely. Bucky gave you a light tap on your ass before you walked away in search of the bathroom.
You did your business in the bathroom and freshened up before walking out to the club’s main area.
Bucky hadn't left his positing from the VIP area. His leg was crossed over the other, and his arms rested on the back of the couch while he looked calm and relaxed. You wanted to take advantage of your freedom and decided to get a quick drink at the bar before returning to him.
You made your way to the bar that was settled in the middle of the club while swaying your hips to the music playing. Luckily, the bar wasn't packed, so it should be a quick deal.
You order the drink and make yourself comfortable with your elbows on the bar counter, squeezing your breasts together, almost exposing them entirely. Your ass poked out behind you—the dress so tiny and short that it almost showed your entire ass.
You knew everyone had their eyes on you, thirsting and yearning for you—for something they knew they could never have, and that's what you loved so much about it. In this club, you loved being a little cock-tease to everyone—it made you feel powerful.
While waiting for your drink, you scanned and observed the club’s guests. Most of them you'd seen before and recognised—politicians with their mistresses, criminals making shady deals with each other, and some new faces you'd never seen before. Everyone looked to be in great spirit and having fun tonight.
“My, my… don't you look pretty tonight.”
A deep, smooth voice murmured in your ear, making you jump out of your skin a little at the roughness of it. You thought it was Bucky for a second, but the voice didn’t match quite right. When you spun around, you found yourself caught in an intense gaze by a man. Usually, you'd back away and decline any stranger like that, but something about him just made your whole being scream in need.
The man oozed danger, sex and confidence—all things you loved and had gotten so used to with Bucky. So you couldn't help yourself when you got ensnared in this stranger's trap. You knew you shouldn't talk to this man. Bucky would be pissed if he found out. But Bucky wasn't here right now, and the drink should be done any second, so you decided to play along and then would politely decline once it was time. Bucky would never know.
“Well, hello to you, stranger.”
You batted your eyelashes at him and gave him your most appetising smile and gestures you could muster up, popping your hip out and tilting your head to the side, wanting to play a bit dirty and rile him up.
“My, you're the prettiest little thing in this whole club.”
He came closer, almost pinning you against the bar with his massive frame. He licked his lips as his eyes travelled across your whole body. This man was playing a dangerous game in approaching you like that—intentions clearly sexual.
He presented his hand, and you took it gladly, shaking it.
“The names Roman,” he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it while maintaining eye contact, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Roman?
Roman?
You'd heard that name before, but you couldn't quite put your finger on who he was. It was such an unusual name that you would think with such a name, you'd remember who it belonged to, but your mind was completely blank. It must be the alcohol and the intense surge of sexual energy you were experiencing.
“The pleasure is all mine, Roman,” you gave him your name, which made him smirk when he heard it.
“That's a beautiful name, princess. What brings you to this club, sweet thing?”
“Oh, I-”
The conversation was cut abruptly by someone grabbing Roman’s shoulder and pulling him away from you, turning him to face whoever it was.
You gasped.
Shit. It was Bucky.
His face was stone cold as he stared Roman down with absolute dark rage in his eyes. His fists clenched by his side—knuckles turning white.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Roman?” Bucky spat out while getting all up in his face.
Wait?
Bucky knew him?
Oh…
Oh!
Oh, no…
He was that Roman.
Shit. Now you remember.
He's the man that betrayed Bucky about a year ago and went to be with Bucky’s number one rivals instead. You remember at the time what kind of a toll it had taken on Bucky to be so gruesomely crossed.
This was not good. You felt so horrible and guilty now with the later knowledge of know this man was. How could you have forgotten him? Forgotten what he's done? You should have brushed him off instead of instigating his actions further.
You couldn't hear what they were saying because they were so up in each other's faces, but you could tell that it was a heated argument. You wondered what was being said. What kind of complications and events this would all lead to.
Suddenly, Bucky shoved him hard, and it looked like he would fight him right then and there. But he didn’t…
“You’re fucking dead, Roman,” Bucky uttered through gritted teeth.
Bucky came to your side and grabbed your arm hard. So hard that it hurt, and you winced and tossed to try and get out of his harsh grip, but he wouldn't budge. He pulled you back to the VIP area and ordered you to sit on the couch.
“Don't fucking move.”
His words were like poison, making you flinch at the absolute anger in his voice. Your eyes were becoming glossy—tears threatening to spill at any moment. You wrapped your arms around yourself for comfort.
How could you be so stupid? You should have just said no to Roman instead of acting like a fucking brat and whore—wanting to be a little cock tease for a man that wasn't even your man. You should have just been an obedient little wife and returned to your husband like you were supposed to.
Bucky was furiously talking to one of his men for several minutes. You saw how stressed, angry and fearful his demeanour was. His hand ran through his short hair multiple times. It was rare to see Bucky in this state. He was usually tough and determined, not bothered by what people said and did, and always in control of things. But it looked like Roman had really struck a sensitive nerve—said something that had put Bucky out of check.
When he was done conversing, he came back to you and took your hand, gently this time, and pulled you with him out of the main club area, not saying a thing. It looks like you were leaving. You went through the backdoor that was only used for you and Bucky and a selected few other people.
Once in the elevator, Bucky wrapped a protective arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his torso, still not saying anything. You wanted to say something. To plead for his forgiveness, but you felt awkward doing it in this tight place when you weren't alone. You would try and talk to him in the car when it was just the two of you.
Bucky ushered you into the backseat of the black luxury car, him getting in behind you. You weren't sure where you were going—home, most likely. The screen divider that separated the backseats and driver seat was up, so you were all alone, and you could finally try to talk to him.
“Bucky?”
You tried in a sweet and calm voice.
Nothing.
He pulled his phone out when it pinged with a message. His mouth remained in a thin line, eyebrows furrowed, with no emotions in his eyes as he typed on his phone before placing it inside his jacket.
“Bu-Bucky?”
Your weak voice cracked as his name came out in a sob this time.
“I-I’m so s-sorry. I-I shou-” You sobbed even more, unable to finish your sentence. You were about to cry any second, knowing that Bucky was mad and disappointed in you for being so stupid and reckless. You turned your head away from him, unable to look at his stern face.
“Doll…”
His voice was sweet compared to the poisonous one he used with you in the Underground. You thought he would yell at you once in the car. But it was the opposite. His loving and caring side surfaced—your wonderful husband that loved you beyond words.
“Baby…”
He grabbed your chin with his fingers and turned your head towards his. His eyes held nothing but love and adoration for you—his wife. His heart broke when he saw a few tears roll down your cheeks, your lips quivering.
“P-please d-don't be mad a-at me, Bucky.”
“Oh, baby… come here.”
He pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his strong arms around your waist. His head nuzzled in your neck as he laid tender kisses on the soft skin to try and soothe you,
“Mad at you? No, doll. I could never be mad at you, and I’m sorry it came across that way. I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you like that, my sweet love.”
“Bu-but, you seemed s-so angry at me. Angry for what I’d done and who I was talking to. I swear, Bucky, I forgot who he was, and I-I just-”
“Doll.” He made you rest your forehead on his. His piercing blue eyes focused deep into yours—showing you that he spoke the truth. “I’m not mad at you at all. Please don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s not your fault. Not even the slightest, ok? I love you, babydoll.”
“O-ok. I-I love you t-too, Bucky.”
He dried your tears while giving you a warm smile. “My precious girl.” He cradled your face in his hands and laid a light, comforting kiss on your lips. The kiss slowly progressed to a more passionate one—neediness and love poured into it.
The moment was quickly interrupted by Bucky’s phone pinging with a message in his jacket. He groaned as he fished it out to read it. You caught a glimpse and gasped when you saw what it said.
It's done.
You knew what it meant. It was the worst possible outcome following the events that unfolded in the club.
“Is, is he d-dead?”
“No, no, doll. They only questioned him, that's all.” Bucky tried to reassure you.
You knew what questioned meant. It meant that they had beaten the shit out of him, almost to the point of death. And although Bucky spoke the truth that Roman wasn't dead, he would be soon. Bucky never let something like what happened at the club go unpunished—people trying to cross his line. Certainly not when it comes to you. He would torture and kill anyone who made any advances on you, especially when they were fully aware of who you were and belonged to. And Roman most certainly knew what he was doing when he approached you. He wanted to provoke Bucky and test his limits. And now he would pay for it.
Maybe he didn’t think it through enough? Perhaps he thought he was safe because he was under the protection of Bucky’s rivals?
But one should never underestimate Bucky. He didn’t give a fuck who anyone belonged to, enemies or friends. If provoked, he would have you severely punished or, in the worst case, killed.
You shook your head—not wanting to think about it anymore. Instead, you lay your head on Bucky’s shoulder and close your eyes for the remaining car ride. His fingertips delicately caressing your arm lulled you to a relaxed and sleepy state…
———
“Doll,” his soothing voice murmured in your ear, pulling you out from the light sleep, “baby, we’re here.”
You softly moaned as you lifted your head and saw that you’d pulled into the garage of your penthouse—you were indeed home now. Luckily, because you were ready to cuddle up with your husband in bed and go to sleep in his loving and protective embrace.
“You want me to carry you?”
“N-no, I can go on my own.”
Once in the elevator, Bucky pressed the button for the roof terrace, not the apartment like you thought we would. You looked up at him. A confused expression on your face—eyebrows furrowed.
“Are we not going to bed yet?”
“Not yet,” he wrapped his arms around your shoulder, pulling you close to him, and kissed your head, “I have something I want to show you.”
What did he have to show you on the rooftop?
When the elevator arrived, Bucky took your hand and led you to the patio overlooking the light-filled city. Nothing looked unusual. Everything looked as it always did. There was no thing to show. So why did he bring you here?
“Bucky, what are we doing here?”
“Come.”
He led you to the very edge of the fence and wrapped his arms around you from behind. His head rested on your shoulder, and you leaned yours on his.
“Do you see, doll?”
“See what, Bucky?”
“The city!”
“Your city, babe.”
“Our city, baby girl. All of this is for you. Everything I do is for you. You and my undying love for you influence every decision I make in life.”
“James… you know I don't need any of this. I appreciate it, baby, you know that, but… I just need you.”
“I know, I only need you as well, but I just wanted you to know that we’re in this together. We can always count on each other. We will always have one another. Our love is powerful and unbreakable.”
“You know it, Bucky.”
You stood for a while longer. Staring out over your city as you swayed to imaginary music. Bucky’s lips graced your cheek as he whispered sweet nothings that had your heart burst with warmth, love and security.
Words can’t describe how much you loved this man. This vicious, menacing, murderous, but also affectionate, warm and joyous man. One would think such words couldn’t be combined to describe a man—that it doesn't fit. But Bucky was all those, and you wouldn’t change him for the world.
Your sweet bubble was interrupted by another notification on Bucky’s phone, making him groan in annoyance. He held one arm around your waist while the other retrieved his phone.
You couldn't see what it said this time, but he let out a groan of approval and then pulled you with him back to the elevator once he read it.
“Where are we going now? More surprises?”
“We’re just going to our room.”
Ah, finally. As much as you loved Bucky for bringing you up here and expressing his undying love for you, you really just wanted to snuggle up to him in bed now.
But once you arrived at your room, one of Bucky’s men was waiting by the door, which was highly unusual. You wondered what was going on. It probably had something to do about Bucky’s recent text message. Probably an update on Roman and his current… situation. But no matter what it was, you hoped it would be able to wait till the morning. You just wanted Bucky all to yourself now.
“Wait here, doll.”
You stood in place while Bucky approached his man. He whispered something to Bucky, and Bucky nodded before he called you over. The man bid you good night, and then it was finally just you and your husband.
“What was that all about, babe?”
“My love…”
He lay his hands on your shoulders, staring deep into your eyes with seriousness written all over his face.
What was going on?
Why was he acting so… strange?
“Yes, my dear?”
“Do you trust me?”
“I do, Bucky, with my life.”
“Would you do anything I ask of you?”
You didn’t like to admit it, but you would kill for this man if the situation ever occurred.
“I-I… yes.”
“Then come with me,” he presented his hand, and you took it without hesitation, “don't be alarmed.”
Alarmed?
He opened the door to your shared master bedroom. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Although you trusted Bucky, his behaviour was more abnormal than usual, which scared you slightly.
You expected to be met with something significant while walking into the room, but there was nothing in the dim-lit room. It was a little hard to see with the lights out, so you scanned the entire space to try and find the abnormality—from the huge windows lining the outer wall, to the bed, and finally, the other side of the room. And that's when you saw it.
You gasped out loud in horror, eyes wide like saucers when you saw a person in the darkened corner of your room. It was a man—beaten, bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair. His scream was muffled by something shoved into his mouth.
Oh my god… it was Roman…
“B-Bucky, wha-”
What was happening? This was wrong. This was so wrong on so many levels. Bucky never brought any of his mob business into your home. He always tried to shield you from that gruesome aspect of his world as best as possible. So what was he doing?
You backed away slowly but were stopped by colliding into Bucky’s chest. He grabbed your upper arms to keep your shaking form in place. His breath fanned your face while he whispered in your ear.
“Don’t be scared, my love.”
You were very much horrified by the sight of a bloodied and bruised man bound tight in your room. I mean, who wouldn't be?
“Wh-what i-is going o-on?”
You contemplated screaming and running away. If that's what you wanted, Bucky would have let you go—he would never force you into doing something you absolutely didn’t want. But you didn’t move a muscle. This situation intrigued you. Bucky’s vicious and twisted mind fascinated you.
Although you were the innocent and sweet one in the relationship, you had a slight devious nature to you as well. So you wanted to see what kind of plans Bucky had in store for bringing Roman into your privacy. What kind of things does he want to do. So you let go of all your worries and went with the flow.
With Bucky’s hand secured around your neck, craning your chin up to make you look at Roman. Bucky spoke, loud enough for Roman to hear as well, the most sinful, possessive and immoral words he's ever uttered—making you shamelessly aroused and almost crumble to the floor.
“He’s gonna watch us, doll, all powerless tied up in that chair as I do with you as I please. He’s gonna watch as I undress you and expose your beautiful flesh to his eyes. He’s gonna watch as I kiss, lick, suck and bite all over your skin. He’s gonna watch and hear as I make you moan, whimper and scream. He’s gonna watch as I fuck you hard, my wife. Claiming your body and soul as mine, and mine only.”
Fuck.
You were all in.
Bucky circled his arms around your waist and brought you closer to his firm chest. Very delicately, he started leaving kisses on your exposed shoulder, making you purr in delight. His feather-light kisses made goosebumps erupt on your skin. You craned your neck to the side, giving his lips more space to continue their journey further up. A loud moan of satisfaction escaped you as he became rougher with it—licking and sucking on your tender sweet spot.
In a swift motion, he removed your little dress—leaving you in your pretty underwear. His hands started roaming all over your exposed body, paying close attention to all your curves with his fingers—hips, waist and breasts—especially your breasts. He palmed them in his grasp and pinched your nipple through the material of your bra, making you wince out at the slight pain.
While one of his hands palmed your breast, the other ran down your stomach and found its way into your panties, making you gasp once his expert fingers found your aching core. He ran his fingers through your slick folds, groaning deeply in your ear, making the hairs at the back of your neck stand.
“Fuck, baby, already so wet and messy for me, huh? Did that turn you on, princess? My little speech about fucking you and claiming you as mine while he watches all helpless?”
“U-uh, huh.”
You were revelling in the pleasure your twisted and loving husband provided you that there was no way to form any coherent words, let alone sentences. It made Bucky chuckle in a sinister way at how absolute speechless he could make you with such simple touches.
Then it all stopped—his touches and kisses. You whined out in protest and were starting to turn around to see what was going on, but he stopped you by grabbing your upper arms and turning you towards Roman again.
“Stay still, baby.”
Thankfully, his delicate touches returned to your skin. His fingers ran from your shoulder and down until they met the clasp of your bra—unclasping it with no difficulty. The bra straps ran down your arms and hit the floor with a soft thud. Your breasts fully exposed to the two men.
With Bucky’s hands caressing your waist, he descended to the floor behind you. His fingers hooked into your panties and pulled them down your legs. Now, you were fully exposed; your parts that Bucky was so protective and possessive over came to light.
He left a wet kiss on each of your ass cheeks before travelling the kisses upward your naked back—until he stood straight up and wrapped his hand around your throat again, making you yelp and pay full attention to the man tied to the chair. Bucky spoke loud again for him to hear as well.
“This here is all mine. My body—my tits, my ass, my pussy,” he groped your wet and naked core, making you gasp out, “Only I will get to touch and take all of her as I please. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”
“I-it’s yours, B-Bucky, I-I belong to y-you.”
He turned you around and pulled your naked body flush into his clothed one. His hand grasped the back of your neck and brought your lips to his—hungrily kissing you, tongues caressing one another as you moaned and groaned into the heated and needy kiss. His other hand took hold of your ass cheek—altering between squeezing hard and delivering slaps to the plump flesh, which made you whimper into his mouth each time he did.
While still keeping your lips connected, Bucky manoeuvred you to the foot of the bed and removed his jacket while you helped with unbuttoning his white shirt—tearing it off his muscular body.
You roamed your hands all over his hard chest and stomach, moaning as you felt every curve and dip of his delicious muscles. While you touched him, Bucky went to work on getting his pants off.
“Let me.”
You descended to your knees, finding a comfortable place on the marble floor, and helped him tug his pants and underwear down. A satisfied gasp slips from your mouth as his hard cock springs to life—slapping against his belly.
“This cock belongs to me, doesn't it, daddy?” You mutter as you take a firm grasp on his base, and kitten lick his tip while looking up at him.
Bucky chuckled at your possessive nature, licking his lips. You could be just as possessive over Bucky as he was over you, and he loved it. He belonged to you as much as you belonged to him.
“You know it does, baby,” his hand cradled your face, “all of me belongs to you, body and soul.”
You pushed him down to sit on the foot of the bed, his hands on the mattress keeping his weight up. His eyes were fixated on your kneeling form as you nestled between his spread legs. The palm of your hands caressed his thighs up and down as you stared at his entire cock—your mouth watering at how delicious it looked.
“I’m so hungry for your cock, daddy.”
“Yeah? You gonna show him what a little cock-whore you are, baby?”
“Yes,” a glob of your spit fell on him, making him groan as your hand jerked him and spread the saliva all over his length, “I’m a little cock-whore that wants your cock in my mouth.”
He twitched at your lewd words.
“Take all of me then.”
With his hand at the back of your head, he guided and encouraged you to take him whole. With no hesitation, you engulfed his length immediately—too cock-hungry to tease and toy with him until he begged for you. You desperately needed his length deep in your throat.
You gagged around him as he tickled the back of your throat. The vibrations made him shudder where he sat. With each hand cradling your face, he forced your head up and down on him, thrusting his hips upwards to meet your moves.
Tears pooled in your eyes, and saliva dribbled out of your mouth as he forced his way down your throat. It was so messy and erotic—sloppy sounds filled the room.
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he concentrated on how your warm and wet mouth felt on his throbbing cock. Guttural groans rumbled in his throat.
“Fuck, you take my cock so well, baby.”
He removed you from him, which made you whine in protest—missing the feel of him choking you with it. Your hand wrapped around him and jerked his length in long strokes as you presented your tongue—showing him how absolute needy you were for his cock shoved deep in your cavity.
With his fingers holding your jaw, he leaned down till he was level with your face and gifted you a glob of his spit on your awaiting tongue. “Fucking whore, you know that?” You nod your head. The degrading action and words had your pussy flutter. You rolled your tongue into your mouth and leaned down to retake him, bobbing your head while Bucky supported his weight on his hands, allowing you to take control of his cock as he sat and enjoyed the lewd performance.
“I bet you’re fucking jealous now.” Bucky sneered at Roman as the corner of his mouth turned up in a sinister smirk.
Your hand accompanied your mouth—stroking his base while your mouth paid attention to his sensitive head—finding a perfect rhythm to bring Bucky over the edge. The other hand cupped his balls to fondle them.
“Look at me….”
You peered up at him through your thick lashes while you had your mouth and hands full of his cock and balls. Drool and tears covering all of you.
“...fucking shit, doll, you’re gonna make me come.” A few seconds later, he grunted as he reached his climax. His hand gripping your shoulder hard to brace himself.
Watching his face contour in pure pleasure, moaning, groaning and grunting while his thick load shoots down your throat must be one of the most pornographic scenes you’d ever witnessed. Your pussy fluttered at the sight and vocalisation of him—slickness running down your inner thighs.
Holy fucking shit.
You worked him thoroughly through his intense orgasm to make him feel as good as possible. Not letting a single drop of him go to waste—all of it trickled down your throat.
Once he had come down from his high, you pulled him out from your mouth, making his head leave with a pop. Bucky hisses as his sensitive cock is freed from your expert hold.
You were a mess—drool covering your face, hands and tits, but to Bucky, it was the most stunning you’d ever looked.
“Oh, baby. So beautiful and messy for me.”
With his hand holding your throat, he leaned down to give you a sloppy kiss which you whimpered into.
“Get on the bed.”
All giddy, you switched places with him. Your elbows supported your weight as you spread your legs for him, showing him your glistening and needy pussy.
“Fucking gorgeous.”
“Are you gonna fuck me, daddy?”
Bucky tugged your legs, pulling you further towards him—till your ass was right by the edge of your bed.
“Not yet, babydoll. I need to taste that pussy first.”
He finds a comfortable place on his knees between your spread legs so he can go to work in worshipping all of you, like the Goddess you are. His face is inches from where you so desperately need him, feeling his breath on you, making your pussy ache for him. You arch into his face, your hand running over his short hair, begging for him to taste you, touch you, do anything to you. To eat you out until he shatters your existence.
“Please, Bucky,” you pathetically plead.
“You want it, baby?”
The tip of his tongue flickers your nub. That simple touch has your whole body convulse on the bed and a soft whimper escaping you.
God, you were so needy.
“P-please.”
“I’ll make you feel so fucking good, princess,” he laid a simple kiss on your wet folds, making you convulse once more, “but first, I need to clean up this mess you’ve made, baby.” He was referring to the slickness that had spilt from you, running down your inner thighs.
While his hands caressed the side of your waist, making delicious tingles erupt on your skin, he went to work on cleaning you up with his tongue—licking up the mess you’ve made, moaning at your taste. “Your taste is outstanding, baby.” Your whimper in pain and pleasure as he nips the skin of your inner thigh with his teeth—his tongue soothing the sting after.
“You have the prettiest pussy; you know that, baby? I’m so lucky that I’m the only man who will ever get to see it, to taste it,” he licks your outer lips, which has you arch into him for more, “and to fuck this needy little cunt.”
Finally, he places his mouth where you desperately need it to be. He drags his broad tongue through your folds and flicks the tip of it on your clit. The action has you arch your back, and your eyes flutter shut.
“O-oh…”
A glob of his saliva hits your clit, trickling down your folds. He groans as he watches his mess mix with your own—making your pussy look like the most delicious five-star meal he’s ever seen.
“Look at him, baby. Look at him while I eat your pussy.”
You turned your head to look at the man bound in his chair. It’s fucked up to admit it, but it turned you on to have Bucky between your thighs while a beaten-down man watched. You could see him shaking in his chair, shock overloading his system while his bloodied face pleaded for mercy—for his hurt and misery to end.
Fuck, this was hot.
You moaned loudly as Bucky went to work on devouring your pussy like a starved man that hasn’t had a decent meal in forever. He drags his tongue through your slit multiple times to get all of your flavours. His groan against your pussy at the taste has you quiver on the mattress and a loud cry emitting from you.
He lewdly spits on your pussy to claim ownership over it before his lips wrap around your raw nub—altering between sucking and licking the sensitive nerve. You try to keep your focus on Roman, but your eyes flutter at the pleasure, your mind and vision becoming blurry.
Two fingers penetrate your velvet walls, stretching you out and reaching knuckle deep, making you wail out. Their tips brush against the spot that has you absolutely lose it, making you writhe on the bed. The other works your breast—palming the supple flesh in his grasp, pinching and pulling on your sensitive nipple. You're nothing but cries of pleasure—moaning, groaning and whimpering as Bucky works you to perfection.
You feel kind of embarrassed at how noisy and pathetic you sound, so you bite your bottom lip hard to try and keep yourself down. Bucky didn’t like that at all.
“No, no,” he releases your clit from his hold, “let him hear. Let him hear all your pretty noises, baby.”
He quickly returned his assaults on your swollen clit that throbbed in need. His fingers moved in and out of you at an expert pace, and his other hand worked your breast.
Upon his wishes, you let your cries of satisfaction flow freely—filling up the bedroom. Your breathing hitched in your throat as the buildup was nearing its breaking point, so close to shattering your whole existence—body and soul.
Both your hands are placed at the back of his head, keeping him there so that he cannot move away and deny you your pleasure under no circumstances. Your hips rock into his vicious mouth as you chase your orgasm—it’s right there, so close.
“Bucky,” you cry as you come hard, your toes curling and your whole body convulsing on the bed. You try keeping your gaze on Roman as the coil in your stomach snaps, but your eyes cross. The surge of intense pleasure on your mind and body is almost indescribable—you’ve never come so hard in your entire life. As stars blur your vision, you feel like you're floating on a cloud.
Bucky groans as he works through your orgasm, your clit throbbing in his mouth and your tight walls fluttering around his digits. He’s in awe as he watches you fall apart like you’ve never done before, and he doesn't stop pleasuring you until you are all but satisfied.
You sob from sensitivity as his mouth and fingers leave your used and abused pussy. You’re a panting and heaving mess as you try and come back to your senses.
“You have no idea how sexy and breathtaking you are when you come like that, baby,” he says before kissing your mound, making you twitch. He proceeds with his kisses up your stomach and gives each of your nipples a lick; each touch has you spasm on the bed at how overly sensitive your whole body feels. He comes to face you—gently laying a kiss on your lips so you can taste yourself.
“I really fucked you up, didn’t I? I’m the only one that can make you come like that, huh?”
All you can do is nod while babbling unfinished words as you still haven’t recovered from your high.
Bucky chuckled at your distant and fucked out state.
“I’ll fuck you up some more, doll. He’s gonna watch as I absolutely wreck you.”
He pulls you further up the bed until you’re both in the middle of it.
With his hard cock in hand, he taps the head on your swollen clit, making you twitch and sob; a weak no falls from your lips as you place your hand on his hip to try and push him off.
You can’t. You’re so overly sensitive that it hurts. You can’t take anymore. But Bucky didn’t seem to give a fuck. He wasn’t done with you.
“I-I c-can’t.”
“Yes, you can, baby.” He speaks through gritted teeth.
He takes your hand off him and pins it down on the mattress.
Again he taps your clit, pulling out the same reaction from you as before. He glides his leaking tip through your wet folds. Gradually, his cock gliding on your tingling nub feels fucking incredible, and you’re ready for him to wreck you with his length.
“Please, daddy, fuck me.”
He groaned out at your neediness for him and lined his tip with your quivering entrance. Slowly, inch by inch, he penetrates your tight velvet walls with his cock, making you whimper at the slight ache. His hands grasp the back of your thighs as he forces his way inside you, guttural groans rumbling in his throat as your warm and tight walls engulf him. The last bit of him he forcefully pushes inside you, slamming into your pelvis, making you sob a cry, and your eyes roll back—showing white. The feeling of fullness has you blabbering pleas for him to destroy and fuck you senseless.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking tight.”
His voice is so deep and husky, making your walls flutter around his length, pulling out a heavy moan from him.
“I’ll fuck you so good, doll.”
He pulls out and then forces himself hard into you again, making you jolt and cry on the mattress. He does it a few times, being rough and abusive with it, before he starts fucking your tightness in deep and powerful strokes, slapping his skin against yours.
He hoists your legs on his shoulder, pinning them against his front, as he thrusts into you, his tip brushing your sweet spot each time he reaches deep inside you. You’re nothing but a moaning, whimpering mess as you take it all. Your hands grip the sheets to brace yourself, your eyes cross as he fucks you into oblivion, and your breasts bounce with each abusive thrust he delivers.
“My pussy. Mine, mine, mine, mine,” he grunts between each hard thrust, watching his length disappear through your walls.
There's nothing on your brain other than his cock—nothing but earth-shattering pleasure that it's giving.
You convey that you want him closer with grabby hands as you’re entirely speechless with how he’s fucking you.
Answering your pleas, he drops your legs on each side before lowering his body till his naked chest meets yours, holding his weight up so he won’t completely crush your sensitive body. His forehead rests on yours as his warm breath hits your face.
“So needy for my cock, huh? So needy for all of me?”
You can only let out a sound of approval.
“Good fucking girl.”
With the rolls of his hips, he manages to reach even deeper inside you, making you wail in pleasure. You wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck, clinging to him with your weak strength. The buildup was fast due to your last orgasm, and you were ready to explode with pleasure once more.
“I-I-I’m go….”
You couldn't even form a coherent sentence, making Bucky chuckle at how good he was fucking your brains.
“You gonna come, baby?”
“U-uh, huh.”
“Look at him, baby,” with his fingers on your jaw; he turned your head to look at Roman, “look at him as you cream and make a mess all over my cock, you fucking whore. Look at him while I stuff your little cunt.”
You try to keep your focus on him, but it was near impossible with the way Bucky was fucking you, clouding your every sense.
A few more brutal thrusts, and you come hard, toes curling, almost blacking out at the intensity. Silent noises escape your open mouth, and your eyes roll as you explode around his cock—your walls viciously pulsating around his length and making a mess all over him. Tears streamed down your face as it became too much, too hard, but you wanted more; you wanted his cum to fill you so badly, so you pulled him in tighter with your weak legs, wanting him to spill his warm seed inside you.
With a heavy grunt, he spurts ropes after ropes of his cum inside you, decorating your walls. His hips snapped rapidly against you as he filled you up to the brim, emptying himself entirely and not stopping until you were both fucked out and satisfied.
“Good girl. Good fucking girl taking all of me.”
He stilled inside once he was done, making a breath of relief and satisfaction escape you, and a deep groan came from him at the aftershocks. He peppers kisses on your clammy neck and collarbone, whispering sweet praises and affirmation after being so dominant and rough with you. You hold him close, nuzzling your face into his short hair as you hum and sigh in contentment at being stuffed full of his cum.
A whimper falls from you as his body leaves yours, leaving you cold, followed by a sob as his cock leaves your used and abused hole, leaving you unfulfilled.
“Look at that, baby,” Bucky was fascinated with his cum trickling out of your quivering hole, ”such a pretty sight.” He collected all of the cum with his tip and pushed himself hard into you again, making you squeal. After giving you a few more strokes, he pulled out, making the cum flow out once more. He gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek, followed by some words that made your breath hitch.
“Stay still, baby. I need to show him.”
He what?
You were still and spread out like he requested, your body too sensitive and sore to move anyways. With hooded eyes, you watch Bucky’s naked behind as he walks away from you and over to the man bound tight in the corner.
Bucky removes the gag from Roman’s mouth, and you can hear him coughing blood and saliva as his voice is freed. He tries to say something, but it comes out as a gurgling sound.
“Did you really fucking think I would let you go unpunished from my club, you fucking filth?”
Bucky’s fist connects with Roman’s bloodied and bruised face—the noise of skin punching skin and the crackling of Roman’s teeth at the force of it is the most uncomfortable sound you’ve ever heard. You shut your eyes tight as Bucky hits him again, and then a last time.
“Did you really fucking think I would let you speak about my wife like that without me having your head for it?”
You still didn’t know what Roman had said to Bucky in the club, but it was obviously triggering. So Bucky had gone to this extent in showing him, and others for that matter, what happens when someone spoke about his possessions.
Bucky removed his restraints and pulled Roman by his hair over to you on the bed—propping him up so he rested on his knees, his bruised face close to your pussy.
You were lost for words at what was happening, at what Bucky was doing. You just closed your eyes tight and hoped that whatever was going to happen would be over soon.
“Look at that, huh. Look at it. Isn’t it so fucking beautiful?”
Bucky was referring to his cum seeping out of your quivering hole—making a beautiful mess.
Roman looked with hooded eyes and tried to say something, but his words came out strained and unclear.
“Fucking LOOK AT IT!”
Bucky yelled in his face. It startled you and made tears roll down your cheek. This feels so degrading… but my God, also so fucking hot at the same time—to have someone being forced to look at your most intimate part that’s just been used and abused and stuffed full of cum.
Roman looks with wide eyes now, well, one at least; the other one is too bruised to open fully. He makes a painful noise as Bucky pulls his head up by his hair.
“This is mine. My pussy,” Bucky spreads your lips, “this is my girl, my fucking wife, and that’s my fucking cum that’s claimed her. You will never ever get to touch her. Touch what rightfully belongs to me. How dare you come into my club and use your filthy disgusting words on my wife, especially after betraying me like that, you worthless piece of shit.”
Bucky tosses him to the ground, his body hitting the hard floor in a loud thud while he groans in pain.
“Shut the fuck up,” Bucky spat at him.
Bucky retrieves his phone from his jacket, and you hear his thumbs moving across the keyboard—typing a message. You’re unsure what’s happening and too tired and slightly traumatised to ask questions.
A few seconds later, there’s a knock on the bedroom door, and Bucky stands with his back, all tall and broad, to you, blocking your body so whoever is on the other end can’t see you fully exposed. Bucky doesn’t care about his own nudity in the slightest.
Whoever entered the room didn’t say anything, but you could hear them come closer and stop by Roman, waiting for Bucky to give them instructions.
“Dispose of him,” Bucky utters in a deep and sinister voice.
“Yes, Sir.”
You hear Roman getting pulled away, never to be seen again, and then a door closes, leaving only you and Bucky in your bedroom.
“Baby.”
His sweet and caring voice was back; his protective and warm touches were back—your loving husband. He cleans you off with his shirt and then cradles your body, making you sit on his lap as he wraps his tender, soft arms around your frame. You nuzzle your face into his sweaty neck, a tired sigh leaving you as his fingers run delicately on your clammy skin, soothing your aching flesh and lulling you to sleep.
“Are you ok, doll?” He takes your tired face in his hands, making you look at his concerned one, searching yours for any sign of stress or discomfort. “Was that too much? Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, doll, you had to see that, to hear that. That I had to put you through that.”
You honestly didn’t know what to say at what just unfolded—too tired and sore to process the whole event properly, but you were ok, for now. You were just happy to finally have your husband to yourself after such a pleasurable and vicious evening. All you wanted now was to fall asleep in his protective embrace.
All worries and questions about tonight could wait until the morning.
“I-I’m o-ok, James, just tired,” you yawn.
“Oh, baby…”
He scoots you up the bed—until you both rest your heads on the fluffy pillows, facing each other.
“... come here.”
You make yourself small and vulnerable as you nuzzle and cling to the embrace of your vicious lover and protector—his arms and legs holding you close. A content sigh breathes through you as your head tucks into his chest; listening to the calming beats of his heart—this was your home, where you wanted to be forever; despite Bucky’s brutal nature at times, you never ever wanted to leave his side.
Bucky’s murderous hands treat your skin like it's the most delicate thing in the world—softly stroking your back, making you shudder and purr in delight. Sweet words of affirmation are whispered against your hair, followed by a hum of a pleasant tune that slowly lulls you to sleep.
The last thing you hear are words that solidify your love and trust for your husband.
“You’re mine, mine only, my everything, and I love you beyond words, my sweet love….”
Tumblr media
Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!
10K notes · View notes
dreamwritesimagines · 3 months
Text
The Eye of the Hurricane Masterlist
Tumblr media
Summary: Sometimes love and power become entwined with each other.
Tropes: Mob!Au, enemies to lovers, idiots to lovers, pining, slow burn.
Warnings: Mentions of violence, death, underworld, dysfunctional relationships and explicit language. (Separate and specific warnings will be included in each chapter)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Prologue
Chapter 1 : A night out with an old friend can lead to surprises.
Chapter 2 : Gifts can make good apologies.
Chapter 3 : Guests shouldn't overstay their welcome.
Chapter 4 : A quiet night on the rooftop holds new promises.
Chapter 5 : Certain arguments can't wait.
Chapter 6 : Rumors can spread fast.
Chapter 7 : New enemies can complicate everything.
Chapter 8 : Some decisions require late night visits.
Chapter 9 : A marriage decision leads to an honest conversation about expectations.
Chapter 10 : Happy news can make a dinner so much better.
Chapter 11 : Engagement period is supposed to be romantic.
Chapter 12 : Some car rides aren't relaxing.
Chapter 13 : There are many ways to plan a wedding.
723 notes · View notes
Text
As We Go Along (Part 1)
You were offered up as a payment to a mob boss by your father and step-mother. He agreed. Now you're the fiance of the most feared man in New York.
I do not own these characters!
Warnings: Abuse not openly mentioned but is talked about.
This first part is more of a background and getting to know each other chapter. More to come!
You were a burden. At least that’s the way they made you feel. You were from your father’s first marriage. Your mother had died when you were young and your step-mother never had anything for you. She never loved you, but she loved your sister. The daughter she had with your father. You knew this but you never thought she would talk your father into doing this to you. Marrying you off to some mob boss so he could get himself out of debt that he got himself in. She came up with it and he took it to the boss’ right hand man. Two days letter you’re engaged. You didn’t care either way. You hadn’t met the man yet, but you had heard rumors. He  was cold-hearted and cruel. Nothing you weren’t used to. 
Your father told you that you were to meet him tomorrow at his home. 
“You will meet him tomorrow at noon. Here is the address. It should be easy enough to find.” 
“Yes, sir.” Your father nodded without another word. That let you know that you were on your own now. Not that you haven’t been since your mom died. You packed up what little you had. Everything you owned fit into one duffle bag. As you laid in your bed for the last time you looked back on your time here with your family. You decided nowhere could be worse than here. With that thought in mind you slipped into a dreamless sleep.
~
You stood outside your childhood home giving it one last glance. It was bittersweet leaving this place. This is where you had all the memories of your mother, but this place had also been your living hell. You turned away with all the good memories of your mother in the forefront of your mind. A small part of you felt she was leaving with you as well. 
You made your way to the bus stop. You looked at the address and read the bus schedule so you knew which bus you would need to take. It was hard, you had been getting around like this for years. You found when the bus you needed would be here you had hoped you left early enough just in case of any delays the buses may have. 
~
You timed it just right. You made it to the address with ten minutes to spare. Although, all you saw was a giant gate but no house. A loud beep caught made you jump. That’s when you saw the intercom.
“State your business.”
“I’m Alexander Pierce’s daughter. I’m supposed to meet Mr. Barnes.” You heard the gate buzz open. A tall, blonde man in a black suit appeared before you in a black SUV. He stepped out to greet you.
“Ms. Pierce, Mr. Barnes has been expecting you. My name is Steve. I can help you with your bags.” He looked around you confused. You felt your face go bright red.
“This is all I have.” You grabbed your duffle bag by the handle. You saw something flash in his eyes but you weren’t sure what. He nodded and held the front door open for you. 
“Here, I’ll put it in the back for you.” Steve took your duffle and sat it in the back seat. 
“Thank you.” He gave you his hand to help you as you climbed into the front seat. This was new for you. You had never been treated this well. Maybe they were expecting someone else. You couldn’t help as these thoughts ran through your mind. Steve could tell you didn’t want to talk so he left the two of you in a comfortable silence. 
It was a short drive to the house you were going to. It was more of a mansion. You felt your mouth drop at the sight. You heard Steve chuckle a bit. Your face went red again.
“It’s a lot to take in, I know. You’ll be fine. He’s not so bad once you get to know him.”
“You know him pretty well then?”
“I do. Been friends since we were kids. I know him better than he knows himself most of the time.” You nodded as you took in this information. That gave you a little bit of hope, not that you really ever clinged to it. Steve stopped the vehicle as you reached the front door. He got out, grabbed your bag, and proceeded to help you down onto the ground. “Take a deep breath and follow me. You’ll be fine.”
You nodded as you followed Steve up the stairs. The front door itself was huge. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a place this big. Not that someone lived in any way. As you stepped inside you tried to take it all in. It was beautiful. Everything seemed to be decorated in light gray, white, and gold accents. While it was beautiful it didn’t have that homey feel that most homes do. Given what he does, that's not too surprising. There were tall windows everywhere. It made everything look even bigger. It was very modern. You were still reeling as you followed Steve further into the house. As you reached your destination you heard yelling that made you jump. Steve steadied you with a hand to your shoulder. 
“It’s okay. Give me a minute while I go talk to him.” You just nodded. Steve sat your bag down beside you and knocked three times on the door.
“Come in!” Steve cracked the door and stuck his head in,
“Buck, it’s Pierce’s daughter.”
“Send her in.” Steve stepped back out to usher you inside the room. Once you entered your eyes went straight to the man behind the desk. He was handsome. Dark hair and bright blue eyes. He was almost as tall as Steve and just as built as he was. He was in a dark gray three piece suit.
“Ms. Pierce, I’ve been expecting you. How did your driver find the place?” You felt yourself deflate. So he had been expecting your sister. You wanted to ask but couldn’t bring yourself to, afraid of the answer. 
“Uh, I didn’t - I mean, I brought myself. I don’t have a driver.” Bucky stopped what he was doing. You were looking down at the floor. He said your name just loud enough. Surprised you glanced up at him.
“You mean to tell me, your father sent you here alone?”
“Yes, sir. He did.” Bucky felt his skin crawl. At first glance he thought you were beautiful. Nothing would change that. As he looked closer though he could tell you weren’t taken care of. He could tell you had been given the bare minimum to survive. That was something that would not bode well with him.
“Why would he send you here alone?” You knew the true answer, but you were sure Bucky didn’t want to hear that.
“He had other business to attend to and I was capable of making it here myself.” Bucky didn’t like that answer.
“That’s not an acceptable reason.” That surprised you. “And doll, you can call me Bucky, everyone else does. ‘Sir’ is what everyone called my father.” His nickname for you caught you by surprise. You weren’t sure how to feel about it, but you didn’t hate it
“Of course, sir- I mean, Bucky.” Bucky straightened his tie and made his way to you.
“I have a meeting in a couple of minutes, I don’t have time to show you around or I would. Steve can show you around. I just have two rules.” You nodded to show you were listening. “Never go anywhere alone and never knock on or open this door if it’s closed. The only exception is if it is an emergency. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Steve, if you’ll show her around. I’ll meet you for dinner around seven, doll. I’ll take you out and we’ll get to know each other.” Before you could answer his phone rang. You followed Steve back out of the office and watched him pull the door closed. Steve must have sensed your hesitation.
“Just put on the best clothes you have, sweetheart.” You just nodded. You really didn’t have anything to go out in. You would see what you had though. You followed Steve around as he showed you where everything was. What you couldn’t wait to use was the kitchen. You loved to cook and bake. You didn’t get the chance to do it much at home, but maybe you could here. Finally, Steve showed you to your room. It was three times bigger than your old room was. You had what seemed to be a king sized bed, a little balcony that overlooked the backyard, an en suite bathroom and a closet that you could fit your entire old room in.
“Bucky thought you would want some space. He knows this wasn’t up to you.”
“I’ll have to tell him thank you.” Steve sat your duffle bag beside the bed. 
“I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be just down the hall if you need me.”
“Thank you, Steve.” He closed your door as he left. You looked around and laid down on the bed. It was so soft and cozy! You couldn’t believe it. You pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Maybe, just maybe, this would be okay. 
~
Steve listened for you but you seemed to be unpacking. He could hear you moving around. Once he was sure you were okay, he went to talk to Bucky. Steve saw the door cracked and eased his way inside. Bucky was on the phone but he wasn’t as heated as earlier. He saw Steve made his way to him and ended the call. Steve made his way over to a seat in front of Bucky’s desk.
“So, anything?”
“She’s not anything like her father. She seems to be the exact opposite. She’s quiet, reserved. She doesn’t own a lot, Buck. She came here with one duffle bag. One.” That made Bucky’s skin prickle. He knew Pierce was a harsh man but didn’t think he would be harsh with his daughter.
“So you don’t think this is a set up?”
“If it is, she doesn’t know about it. From what I can tell she wouldn’t do something like that. She’s too soft spoken to do or go along with something like that.”
“I picked up on that, too. I don’t think she was treated well there.” Steve shook his head. 
“I don’t think she was either. She seems to be genuine. Which is a surprise considering who her father is.” Bucky nodded. This was unusual, even for him. He normally wouldn’t agree to something like this, but he was looking to settle down as well. The last few women he dated only wanted him for money. He was hoping this might change that.
“Where did you plan on taking her tonight?”
“I’m not sure yet. Why?”
“I don’t think she has anything to wear to a nice restaurant. She seemed a bit panicked when you brought it up.”
“We’ll eat in tonight then. Would you care to go get it?”
“Not at all. You could go talk to her if you want. She’s good, Buck. You could use some good.” Bucky nodded. That was true he could. Steve got up to go get dinner while Bucky debated on going to find you.
~
You decided to go look around yourself taking your time. You couldn’t find Steve so you decided to go downstairs and see if you could find him there. You looked down the small hallway to see Bucky’s office door was cracked. You thought about going to ask him if you could look around yourself, but your thoughts were distracted by the kitchen. It was state-of-the-art. The mixers, the pans, the refrigerator. Everything was something out of one of your dreams. Your thoughts were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. You jumped, turning around to see Bucky standing behind you.
“There you are. I thought you would still be unpacking.”
“No, it didn’t take me long. Sorry, I was just curious to see what you had in here. It’s amazing.” You looked around, still blown away by his kitchen. 
“No need to apologize. Make yourself at home.” You gave him a small smile. You weren’t sure you knew how to do that. Bucky made his way over to one of the bar stools. He sat down while he eyed you from across the counter. He studied you as you studied him. He seemed to be a little more relaxed. His jacket was off and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Bucky noticed you changed into an oversized sweatshirt, some leggings and fuzzy socks. You seemed so cozy. “So, tell me about yourself, doll. What do you like to do?”
“There isn’t much to tell really. I help my family out when I can and bake if I get the chance.” Bucky nodded his head.
“What’s your favorite thing to bake?”
“Chocolate chip cookies, any kind of cookie really but definitely chocolate chip.”
“Would you wanna make some?” You felt your eyes get big. “No one uses the kitchen much. I usually either go out or order in and no one ever bakes.” You felt yourself getting excited.
“Yeah, I’d love to.” You gave Bucky a genuine smile. Those were very rare for you. Bucky gave you one back, his were probably as rare as yours were, maybe even moreso.
~
Many cookies later, you and Bucky asked small questions at first. You found out he loved sweets and would love to have a dog but is afraid he wouldn’t have the time for one. He found out you loved dogs, even more than you loved baking, and you had never left the state of New York.
“We’ll change that, doll. Don’t you worry.” You giggled at that.
“You know, you’re nothing like everyone makes you out to be.”
“I’m sure my reputation proceeds me. Let me guess, a cold hearted killer and womanizer? That’s what they say in the tabloids I see every now and then.”
“Pretty much, but I will say you are much kinder to me than what I’m used to.” You gave him a small smile. You saw something flash in his eyes that you couldn’t place. With that he decided to bring up the elephant in the room.
“There is something I do want to talk to you about, doll.” You took a pan of cookies out of the oven and sat the next pan in while the others cooled.
“Okay, what’s that?”
“The reason I agreed to your father’s proposal.” You turned around to face him. You had been curious about it but didn’t want to ask out right.
“Okay.”
“Did you want to ask me anything?”
“I did wonder why you agreed to it. I mean, I’m nothing special. Men usually come to my father about proposals for my sister, not me. Although I know this was his idea. I’m just surprised you agreed to it.” You had never been this open and honest with someone you just met. There was just something about Bucky. “I’m sorry, that was overstepping. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Not overstepping, doll. I surprised myself when I agreed to it. The thing is, I am ready to settle down, but not give up my title just yet. I am tired of women just wanting money or just wanting to say they were with me. Granted, I could have gone about it differently than this, but it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t want something.”
“My father was the one who wanted something though.”
“Yes, but not you. I’m just curious as to why you just went along with it.” You took a deep breath.
“You want an honest answer?”
“Of course, doll.” 
“I didn’t have a choice. My family also sees me as in the way. So, it got me out of their way.” Bucky’s heart broke for you. You could see it in his eyes. You felt your face turn bright red. You were going to be honest. Your family never hid their disdain for you around anyone, so you didn’t see the point in trying to hide it yourself. 
“That’s terrible, doll. I can assure you, you won’t be in the way here. If you ever feel like that you come to me, understand?”
“I understand.” The timer went off for the last batch of cookies just as Steve walked in the door with take out. Your stomach immediately rumbled at the smell of Chinese food. Steve walked in, sitting the food on the counter. 
“It smells like a bakery. Did you do all this?” Steve looked around at all the cookies you had baked. You felt your face turn red again. 
“She did, we’re gonna try them after we eat.”
“They smell amazing. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” 
“Wait, Steve! Here, take some with you. I made way too many as it is.” You hurriedly put a couple of batches in some containers you had found earlier. Steve looked to Bucky as you were packing up the cookies. Steve gave Bucky a small smile and a slight nod you didn’t pick up on. You handed Steve the bag before Bucky could silently reply to Steve. Steve gave you a big smile.
“Thanks, sweetheart. I can’t wait to try them.”
“Let me know what you think. I haven’t got my recipe just right yet.” 
“I’ll let you know. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Steve left you all to your dinner. Bucky started getting the containers out. You decided to go ahead and put the cookies that were already cooled in a container. Bucky was still getting food out when you were finished. You hadn’t seen this much food in front of you in a long time. Not that you didn’t eat, you just didn’t eat much. Bucky watched your eyes get wide. 
“You okay, doll?”
“Yeah, that’s just a lot of food.” 
“Maybe, but then we can have leftovers tomorrow.” He said it so easily. You were a little taken back. “Doll, would you care to get these last few containers out so I can go change. Then we’ll eat.” You just nodded. You didn’t have it in you to reply. Bucky walked up the stairs to his room as you got the last few containers out. You were still in shock at all the food. And the fact that he got some for you too caught you off guard. You didn’t realize it but you felt tears in your eyes. Usually when your family ordered out you got what was left and if you were still hungry you made yourself something in the kitchen. You didn’t hear Bucky come up behind you.
“Everything okay, doll?” He noticed the tears in your eyes. You quickly wiped them away. You noticed he had changed into a white t-shirt and some gray sweatpants. You thought he looked even better like this than in his suit.
“Yeah, everything is fine. I was just getting the rest out.” You put the paper bag in the trash can you found earlier. Bucky sat down on the same bar stool from earlier. He started opening the containers. 
“Get whatever you like, doll. I got some of everything. I didn’t know what you would like.” You didn’t know what you would like either. You hadn’t had Chinese takeout before. Your family would get it sometimes but there was never any left for you. “What’s going on in your head?”
“Um, it’s just, uh-”
“Doll, you can talk to me. The side of me you see right now, no one else sees. This is for you and you alone. I want you to be able to talk to me. I know this isn’t conventional but I would like to be able to be open and honest with one another.” You wanted that too, but you weren’t sure how to do it. You never had anyone to confide in. Ever. This was all so new to you, so you decided to be open and honest about everything.
“I’m not used to this, Bucky. I’m not used to being doted on. I never get take-out. I don’t get luxurious bedrooms. I get told what to do and when to do it. I don’t know how to confide in someone. I don’t know how to make myself at home because I’ve never had that luxury. I always get the bare minimum. I’m the burden of my family and they let everyone know.” You hadn’t realized tears started to spill over by the end of what was always on your heart. You had never told anyone this. Bucky reached for your hand nearest him. When you didn’t pull away he clasped it in both of his. You could see Bucky’s eyes dim and then watch something light in them you had never seen before.
“You will never be in the way here. You are going to be my wife and with that is going to come a lot of things you’re not used to. I can see that now. If you are ever overwhelmed please do not hesitate to tell me. I want you to be able to tell me what you’re feeling. This is new to me, too. I want to be honest with you. Granted there are some things that I do that I would rather keep you away from and I will try my best to. Doll, here you will be taken care of and doted on. You won’t even remember what it was like at that house you lived in. We’ll learn as we go along.” You didn’t realize you needed to hear that. You squeezed Bucky’s hand as well as you could as he had started holding your more firmly than before. 
“We’ll learn as we go along.” He squeezed your hand back releasing it. 
“Great, now that we’ve talked about that. What do you want to try first?” You smiled as you pointed to some chicken that looked good. Bucky handed it to you and waited until you tried it before he grabbed something as well. 
And that’s how your first night went with your fiance. Trying Chinese take-out you had never had and learning how to make yourself at home. Maybe you could get used to this.
398 notes · View notes
Text
Sweetest Dreams || B.Barnes - Part 4
Tumblr media
Character: mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Finally, it's the right time with the right person. ❤️
Warning: Kidnapped, tortured (only a small part)
Part 1: Echoes Of Revenge
Part 2: Shattered Echoes
Part 3: All The Lies
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 
Tumblr media
"This is fucked up. Where am I?" Y/N's thoughts echoed in the disorienting haze surrounding her.
Ivan, the orchestrator of her current predicament, stood menacingly before her, a cruel grin etched across his face. "You should blame yourself for being in this condition," he sneered.
Y/N, still grappling with the fog in her mind, pressed for answers. "Where am I?"
Ivan, relishing in his control, delivered the chilling truth. "A hangout place for drug addicts. So if you don't listen to me, the next morning the police will find your body. Overdose."
‘Shit.’ Panic surged within Y/N as she scanned her surroundings, her eyes landing on a lone door – a potential lifeline out of this nightmare.
“Stop thinking about escaping.” Ivan's fingers dug into her chin, forcing her to meet his menacing gaze. “To be honest, I don't want to kill you. Because I need your brain to make money.”
Y/N, defiance burning in her eyes, said, “You think I will agree?”
Ivan leaned in, his breath sending a cold shiver down her spine. “You have to. After you make me bankrupt, I've gained a lot of enemies – elite people who invested their money in the company. And they want their money back.”
“So, you want to return the money to high-influence people rather than those with low income?” Y/N's disdain dripped from her words, her body language betraying a simmering anger.
Unfazed, Ivan smirked, reveling in the power dynamic. Y/N, unable to contain her disgust, spat on his face in an act of defiance. Undeterred, Ivan scoffed, “Those people are small fish. The most important thing is the big whale.”
Infuriated, Y/N spat on his face again, her eyes ablaze with defiance. “Work again with a mastermind who made thousands of families bankrupt? Fuck no.” She turned her attention to the door, silently calculating the risks and possibilities of escape.
Ivan wiped his face with a cloth, savoring the moment with a sinister satisfaction. "I knew you wouldn't agree, but I'll change your mind," he declared with a dark chuckle.
With a snap of his fingers, the dimly lit place transformed into blinding brightness. Y/N, still disoriented, realized she was tied to an electric chair. Someone approached from behind, forcing a mouthguard into her mouth.
Before she could react, her head was jolted by an electric shock, and a muffled scream escaped through the mouthguard, "Mrghh!" Tears streamed down her face as the searing pain coursed through her.
Ivan, reveling in the torment he was inflicting, taunted, "You've made my life hell for a year, Y/N. Now I want to torture you a bit."
Y/N, in the midst of the excruciating pain, wished for a chance to apologize to Bucky if today was to be her last.
"BAM!"
Ivan, caught off guard, exclaimed in surprise. He had been confident that no one knew about this hidden location. However, he was about to learn the extent of Bucky's knowledge of the town.
Bucky stormed in with a powerful kick to Ivan's face, sending him crashing.
“What the fuck?” Ivan spluttered, struggling to stand.
Bucky's eyes fell on Y/N, tied to the chair and seemingly lifeless. Panic and darkness consumed him for a moment as he approached her. "Y/N?"
He lifted her gently, holding her close. "You can't die. I don't know what to do without you."
“Urggh, I'm still alive, idiot,” Y/N weakly replied. Opening her eyes felt like a daunting task, and she couldn't quite believe that Bucky had come to her rescue.
Bucky, overwhelmed with relief, clenched his teeth. His gaze shifted to Ivan, who was still attempting to rise.
He turned to Steve, who had followed him to save Y/N. “Make sure he never sees the sun again.”
Steve nodded, advancing towards Ivan with a determined expression. He swiftly broke Ivan's arm, eliciting a pained cry. “You messed with the wrong person, pal,” Steve smirked, ensuring Ivan faced the consequences of his malevolent actions.
Bucky cradled Y/N, his eyes reflecting worry, anger, and relief. "I've got you," he whispered, vowing to protect her from any further harm.
Tumblr media
Bucky, keeping a watchful eye on Y/N as she slept in the hospital bed, found himself reflecting on a similar moment from his recent past when he had visited her father.
Her father had looked at him and said, “What a small world.”
Indeed, it was a small world.
Fifteen years ago, Bucky was a teenage boy living alone in a desolate house. His mother had left, and no one bothered with the household chores. His father, Nicholas, was indifferent, unmoved by Bucky's struggles. School was a constant battleground for him, and life seemed monotonous and purposeless.
Then, one day, Bucky noticed his father bringing a guest home. His father never bothered with hospitality, a clue that this visitor wasn't just any guest. It was the first meeting with Y/N's father, a long-time friend of his own father.
Bucky calls him the kind uncle because he worries about Bucky more than his father.
This kind uncle regularly visited, bringing homemade food Bucky gratefully accepted. It was a lifeline in a home where food was scarce.
The kind uncle shared, "I have a daughter your age. I'll bring her next time." However, that promise remained unfulfilled, and it turned out to be the last visit. Bucky later learned that his father had lent the kind uncle money with exorbitant interest, severing their friendship.
It was pivotal for Bucky, revealing the depth of his father's greed and how money could destroy longstanding friendships. The realization left an indelible mark on him, shaping his future goals. Bucky vowed that if he ever became wealthy, he wouldn't burden his friends with the weight of borrowed money.
Then, when he entered university, he met her—the daughter of that kind uncle, Y/N. The revelation brought a sense of purpose to Bucky's life. He witnessed her being taken advantage of by classmates and seniors at the club, prompting him to take a stand and become her shield.
With him by her side, nobody dared to exploit Y/N anymore. Despite her initial annoyance towards him, Bucky saw a cute, angry kitten in her eyes, and teasing her became a daily amusement, injecting excitement into his otherwise mundane university days.
As they transitioned into adulthood, Y/N underwent a transformation. Her style matured, and she exuded newfound confidence, a far cry from her college days, where she often kept her head down.
Bucky enjoyed the challenge when she underestimated him, eventually giving her money because of her work in an investment company. Little did he know that this woman would swiftly elevate him to wealth.
Y/N's unexpected departure left Bucky in a state of confusion. He waited for a month, then three, and finally, six months passed, but she never returned.
The unanswered question lingered: What did he do wrong? His search for her took a year, but when he found her, she revealed that she had used him to rectify his father's mistake, the same father who had caused harm to her own.
Despite the revelation, Bucky didn't care about the past. He just wanted her back. However, Y/N, this stubborn and seemingly heartless woman, refused to yield.
As he watched her sleep, Bucky's hand cradled her cold cheeks. He joined her side, wrapping her in an embrace to ward off the chill. His fingers gently brushed her hair as he stared at the sleeping figure, who had inadvertently disrupted his life since the moment they met.
Bucky didn't harbor hatred; he found perfection in the chaos she brought into his life. The only thing he desired now was for her to wake up and ensure she could never leave him again.
Tumblr media
Y/N blinked, momentarily blinded by the morning light streaming in from the window. The female nurse, noticing her awakening, hurried over to assist Y/N in sitting up.
"My dear, you've woken up? You've been asleep for two days," she informed a hint of concern in her voice. The dryness in Y/N's throat confirmed the duration of her unconsciousness.
Two days – no wonder everything felt hazy. Y/N's attention perked up when the nurse continued, "Rest assured, the bad guy has been taken to the police. Your fiancé has been keeping an eye on you for 24 hours."
'Fiancé?'
Y/N's eyes widened at the unexpected revelation. She hadn't realized she had a fiancé. The sliding door opened, revealing Bucky carrying a bucket of flowers. His face lit up with a warm smile upon seeing Y/N awake. "Babe, you're awake," he greeted cheerfully.
The female nurse couldn't help but giggle at the scene. "Yes, and she's healthy. Aww, so romantic, you bring new flowers today." She grinned at the young couple before making her exit.
Bucky chuckled as he placed the flowers in a vase. Y/N couldn't shake off her surprise. He took a seat beside her, brushing her hair gently. "It's the safest way. If everyone knows that you're my fiancée, no one will dare to kidnap you," he explained matter-of-factly.
He pulled her into a tight hug, their bodies sinking into the hospital bed. "Y/N, please don't go. I don't know what I would do without you," Bucky pleaded, his eyes reflecting the exhaustion from lack of sleep. Y/N's heart ached at the sight of the big man pleading.
She gets closer, kissing his forehead. "I won't go anywhere."
Bucky's eyes widened in surprise, a brilliant smile replacing his earlier plea. Finally, in that small hospital bed with the sterile scent of antiseptic lingering, it didn't matter. Bucky could have the sweetest dreams as long as she was beside him.
Tumblr media
Author Note:
Hey friends,
If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!
Here's the link: Ko-fi
Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!
Tumblr media
Join the taglist? 🩷💙🩷
@bagoffeelings
@darkofimagination
@starsofcloud
@cherrybubblebullet
@winterslove1917
@thezombieprostitute
@xcaptain-winterx
@namoreno
@sagebarness
@tenaciousathleteoperatorgarden
@unaxv
@missvelvetsstuff
@kjah97
@hopeful-daydreaming
@freshlemontea
@eat-limes-bitches
@kandis-mom
@scott-loki-barnes
@winters1917
@differenttyphoonwerewolf
@arunabraganza
@ordelixx
@vicmc624
@blackwood-bodecker-housewife
@mostlymarvelgirl
@musicandbooksaremyhappyplace
@buckybarnessimpp
@charmedbysarge
@almosttoopizza
@sapphirebarnes
250 notes · View notes
wntrs0ldier · 3 months
Text
AN OFFER II · 04
pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3,4k warnings: mafia, language, violence, mature themes, dark themes, smut, punishing, spanking, edging, toxic behavior,
Bucky brought his hand up to your face. “You know I won’t hurt you,” he said. His hand slid a little lower; it gripped your jaw, and his fingers dug almost painfully into your cheeks. “But,” he licked his lips, shrugging, “you lied to me. And you won't get away with it.”
series masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The situation you got yourself into was strikingly similar to your last date with John Walker — you were sitting in a fancy restaurant, trying not to show how much you needed some man's favor. There were also a few differences; seated in front of you was not John, but Adrian Lancy, it was not about a marriage proposal and your future, but the future of your gallery, and most importantly, Bucky had no idea about any of this. Although, he knew you were going out — he would have noticed your disappearance anyway — but you told him you were having dinner with Connie. You didn't think Bucky would want to make sure that was really the case, but you preferred to be safe than sorry, and asked your friend to lie if necessary. Connie didn't even think about it; she agreed before you finished your sentence.
Earlier, you didn't see Adrian as a threat — he didn't seem like someone who would go too far to get his way. Nevertheless, you were all smiles between the meals. Why? Because facing the fact that you had a husband, rather than just imagining it, caused some unexplained change in him, and from a sensible young man you were pinning your hopes on, he became someone gripped by a obsession; his propositions for meetings sounded a little more aggressive, lost their previous lightness, and you eventually grew afraid. Not about yourself — whenever the ring on your finger entered your field of vision, you forgot about any fear. It seemed to you that no one could hurt you, not when you bore the name of Barnes. 
But the gallery was different.
“I'm going to Paris soon,” Adrian began. “On business, of course, not for pleasure,” he added, as if you were to take him for a man who has nothing to do but travel. 
“Mhmm.”
“I thought you could come with me,” he continued. Surprised by the processes that must have occurred in his mind, you raised your eyebrows. “You know about art,” he hurried to clarify, “and I'd love to buy some pieces for my new apartment. I will pay you for this service.”
“You know that there are people you can actually hire for this. People you won't spend that much on.” You tilted your head to the side, watching him carefully. “Because I am expensive. Very expensive,” you said, hoping to discourage him. 
“I want you.”
“Adrian…” you sighed. “I can't come to Paris with you just like that.” 
Not hiding his disappointment, he pressed his lips tightly together. “Well,” he shrugged casually, “if you don't go with me, you won't see any more of my money. And I'll make sure that no one will ever invest in you again. In short, I will destroy you, Y/N. So you'd better think it over and give me an answer by the end of the week.”
Refusing to let any negative expression cast a shadow on your face, you watched him. You couldn't give him the satisfaction, even if, when agreeing to this meeting, you didn't expect it to turn out this way. The change you feared earlier had just taken a full turn — much faster than you thought. “Sure.” You forced a sweet smile. “I’ll think about it.”
A waiter appeared at the table. At first you thought it was just a routine check; that he was making sure you weren't missing anything. Only after you gave him a little more conscious attention did you notice a bottle of wine in his hands. A very expensive bottle. As if Adrian wanted to let you know that he had the resources you needed, and that he was spending his fortune on something as unnecessary as wine, which was only meant to impress.
But Adrian seemed confused, too. “There must be some mistake. I didn’t order any wine.” 
“I was told it is from Mr. Barnes.”You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling an unpleasant warmth spilling all over your stomach. You stared at the bottle in a stupor. So he knew — Bucky knew very well where you were, which meant he also knew who you were with.
You weren't sure how long you had been standing in front of the door to your apartment, but eventually realized that such behavior qualified as absurd — the accompanying fear, that you had been convinced you lacked only a few hours earlier, was undoubtedly irrational. Or at least that's what you had to trick yourself into thinking in order to finally grab the door handle. 
You hung up your purse on a hanger and slipped the high heels off your feet. You were able to name at least five much scarier situations that had occurred in your entire life, yet you couldn't recall the last time you felt this kind of anxiety. You didn't even understand where it was coming from; after all, Bucky cared about you; he couldn't harm you. 
When you turned around, ready to go deeper into the apartment, Bucky was standing at the end of the hall, right by the exit. His damp hair, loose t-shirt and sweatpants, fresh wounds on his knuckles indicated that he must have been after training with Steve. You swallowed hard at the thought that Bucky, having found out where and with whom you were actually spending time, needed to beat something, in this case, fortunately, a punching bag.
“Was it good?” Bucky asked, approaching you slowly. “The wine,” he clarified. Without taking your eyes off him, you nodded cautiously, causing him to squint. “What is it?” His mouth curved into a playful smirk. “You’re not scared, are you?” 
“I can’t really tell…”
Bucky brought his hand up to your face. “You know I won’t hurt you,” he said. His hand slid a little lower; it gripped your jaw, and his fingers dug almost painfully into your cheeks. “But,” he licked his lips, shrugging, “you lied to me. And you won't get away with it.”
You gawked at him — at the stern expression on his face, at his darkened eyes and reddened, slightly parted mouth. Whatever he intended, you could feel yourself getting wet.
He grabbed your wrist; it ached from the power of the pressure Bucky wielded, but the feeling only intensified the sensation. He dragged you behind him, and you almost tripped over your own feet — he wasn't walking that fast; it was your limbs that seemed frail and numb. 
“Bed,” Bucky commanded as soon as you reached the bedroom. Massaging your sore wrist by instinct, you went in that direction, your steps wobbly. You settled on the middle of the mattress. Bucky came closer. “Turn around.” 
Captivated by his massive, heavy frame, under which you hoped you were about to end up, fascinated by the calmness and dominance he radiated, you couldn’t stop looking at him. 
“Turn around,” he said again, much slower than before. “I’m not gonna ask you again.” 
Your mouth went dry. Finally obeying his order — not in fear of the consequences, but looking forward to further development of the situation — you turned around. Bucky placed his hand between your shoulder blades and with pressure forced you to lean forward; so you landed on your knees, additionally supporting your hands on the mattress. 
He lifted your dress above your hips, a quiet snort escaped his mouth. “You fucking kidding me?” Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly, shaking his head, hooking his fingers under the hems of the lace pants you were wearing. He pulled the material lower, completely exposing your ass, sending a wave of heat over your entire body. 
You got up one knee first, then the other, making it easier for Bucky to strip you of your underwear. Then, he grabbed a piece of your dress and pulled you to him; as your hands detached from the mattress, he reached for them and tied tightly with your pants. The fabric, digging into your wrists, turned out to give you a surprising amount of pleasure.
Bucky pushed you forward again, this time far harder. Deprived of the possibility to support yourself, the front of your body fell on the bed, while your ass still remained up. All you could do was turn your head to the side — other than that, you were completely helpless, dependent on his mercy.
It seemed, however, that he didn't have any for you. You realized this when you felt a sharp, piercing pain, accompanied by a loud clap — Bucky’s hand landed on your ass cheek, and it landed hard. Shocked by this new and unfamiliar sensation, you shouted, your eyes filled with tears. 
Bucky spanked you again. Your body trembled, and only a muffled gasp came out of your mouth this time. 
Another slap — you felt your skin burning and stinging in that spot, getting more and more tender; you were painfully aware of this as his hand, once again, smacked your ass rapidly. You moaned, your back arching, your pussy almost dripping, asking to be filled. But that sweet torture was nearly as good. 
“More?” he rasped, breathing heavily. You weren't sure how to respond; he was punishing you, so if you asked for more, would he actually give you what you wanted? And if you refused, would he stop? 
“Y/N,” Bucky pressed. 
“More,” you replied quickly, your voice weak. 
“More what?”
At that moment, your mind wasn't in the best place for the logical, coherent sentences he always expected from you. “I want you to spank me more. Please,” you exhaled.
“You don’t wanna talk, so I’ll make you use your words. Make that pretty mouth of yours work.” 
Bucky fulfilled your request, and you almost jumped up on the mattress, clamped your eyelids shut and let out a loud whine — that one was definitely stronger than the others, causing goosebumps all over your heated body. 
The bed sunk behind you, signaling his arrival. The t-shirt he had thrown off landed silently somewhere on the floor. Your lips parted, releasing a long moan as the tip of his cock brushed hard against your wet, throbbing cunt. He buried into your core painfully slowly and lazily; you felt his hardness spreading inside you, filling all the space you could give him. 
Bucky clenched his hands on your hips and began to thrust into you. The pain radiating from your cheeks mixed with the surging pleasure, creating a combination you could quickly become addicted to. Gasping loudly, he pounded into you again and again; immediately he reached to your head, slipped his fingers into your hair and tightened them there. He turned your head to the side so he could see at least part of your face — the changes taking place on it. He wanted to control your pleasure. Because as you, stimulated by spanking and waiting, began to get closer to an orgasm faster than you could expect, Bucky suddenly stopped. He slid out, leaving behind only emptiness and a devastating lack of satisfaction.
“Jamie, please-” you choked out. 
“Don’t Jamie me,” Bucky replied sternly. He leaned forward, putting the weight of his body on yours. He pulled your head slightly away from the mattress, his mouth hanging right next to your ear. “You lied to me today, Y/N.”
You nodded immediately, ready to agree to everything he wanted. 
“You know that what you did was wrong? Hmm?”
“Yes. Yes, I know. And I'm sorry.”
“I don't want your sorry. I want you to never lie to me again. You are my wife and I won't have it, do you understand?” he said, the words seeping out through his teeth. 
“I understand, but please-”
Bucky clenched his fingers harder in your hair. “Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“You promise what, Y/N?” he inquired impatiently, although at that moment it seemed like he had all the time in the world.
Taking another deep breath, you gathered the strength and all the concentration you had in you to say those few words he cared so much about. “I-I promise to never lie to you again.”
Bucky moved slightly away, left a kiss on the nape of your neck, then straightened up. He entered you again, and again you felt that blissful fullness. At first you got the impression that he was still fucking some discipline into you, but the rising sensations made you think that he was actually rewarding you for understanding your mistake and promising to do better.
In that position — with your hips up — his dick quickly found the right spot and hit exactly where it needed to. Wet, well lubricated with all your juices, it was sliding in and out smoothly, bringing you more rapture than you could beg for. With loud, desperate cries, you were praying to your god, taking his name in vain — the one who was just fucking you senseless. Because Bucky couldn’t be just a human; he was too perfect, too beautiful, too merciful as he forgave your sins. 
You clenched around his cock, your eyes rolled back as consciousness left your mind. Apart from the overwhelming release, you also felt Bucky's load spilling into you; he, too — with a few last thrusts — let out a few whimpers, crowned by a throaty growl, and his body slumped against yours. His chest, pressed to your back, rose and fell as he tried to normalize his breathing. He pulled away from you to free your wrists as quickly as possible; your hands dropped lifelessly, too weak and too useless.
“Let’s clean you up, hmm?” Bucky suggested; surprisingly gently for the man he was just a moment ago. 
“I want to stay here,” you muttered with half of your face still in the bed sheets. Once again you felt his body pressing against yours as laid a tender kiss behind your ear.
You woke up to an empty bed. 
Your sore body covered with a blanket, the curtains closed. The watch on the nightstand said four in the morning. 
The urgent need to use the toilet dissuaded you from further sleep. You didn't feel fully awake until you were in the shower — as the warm water washed over your body, you wondered where Bucky had gone at such an early hour. You hoped that three months of hard work in Italy would give him some more space here in New York.
You got out of the shower, removed the remnants of your makeup, brushed your teeth, then returned to the bedroom. Curiosity was stronger than tiredness, besides, you felt rested enough, maybe even too awake for any more sleep. You put on one of Bucky's t-shirts, rummaged from his side of the closet, and left the room. You didn't have to search for long — the warm glow pouring out of the living room immediately caught your attention.
Bucky was sitting on the couch — under the light of the lamp standing over him, he was looking through some papers scattered on the coffee table. Full concentration on his face, marked by a deep wrinkle between his brows.
“What are you doing?” you spoke. 
He glanced up at the sound of your voice. “Checking the account statements from Sapphire Dune and Marble Aurora.” Rubbing his eye, Bucky sighed with clear tiredness. 
Your forehead creased as the names of your father’s casinos rang in your ears. You haven't thought about them once lately, so you wouldn't expect it from Bucky either. On the other hand, your Family's affairs were now his concern. 
With your arms folded across your chest, you walked closer to the couch and peeked at the documents. “Something wrong with them..?”
“No,” he assured, smiling softly. “They’re doing really… decently.” 
“So maybe I should stick to them…” you murmured. 
Bucky raised his eyebrows, watching you with a surprise. He reached out his hand to you in an inviting gesture. You took it and sat down right next to him; so close that your thighs touched. He didn’t say a word, waiting for you to tell him everything that was bothering you.
“I lied to you earlier too,” you confessed. “I lied that I don’t need money. And it’s not like I have to close the gallery in a week or something, but…” You gasped. “Some funding is always useful. And Adrian seemed like the perfect sponsor until-” you hesitated, shrugging. “But now he is acting weirder than ever and-”
“Did he do something to you?” Bucky asked right away, interrupting you.
“No, he didn’t,” you protested. “A couple hours ago, he offered me a trip to Paris,” you began, and Bucky’s forehead furrowed at those words. “He said no one will ever invest in the gallery again if I turn him down. And I can't afford it, I can't ask for your money, because I want to make money, not take it out of the house-”
“Y/N, you make money,” Bucky claimed, demonstratively lifting one of the papers. “It's all here,” he added, his brows drew together. “Besides, is using my — our — money really worse than selling your time to this fucking creep?” 
Feeling more and more resigned, you let out a heavy breath. “Bucky…”
“You don't like him, you don't feel comfortable around him, the business isn't going as you would like it to. Or am I wrong?” He was looking at you expectantly, although he didn't actually need any confirmation — he saw the answer written all over your face. He touched your cheeks, his fingers spread on your skin, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones. “You are my wife, and it is my job to take care of you. You have to let me do exactly that, Y/N.” 
Staring relentlessly into his eyes, filled with sincerity and concern, you took his hand off your face and placed a tender kiss inside it, brushing your lips over the scar there; the scar bonding you forever. “Okay,” you whispered. 
You pulled your legs up onto the couch and snuggled into his side. Bucky put his arm around you and rested his cheek on the top of your head. 
A silence settled in, filled only with your peaceful breathing — it didn't bother you or Bucky, since neither of you felt the need to break it. You thought it would be much more difficult; that you would need far more time to get used to him, especially after his last absence. But having a huge couch with plenty of space to occupy, you decided to deprive yourself of whatever space there was.
“Are you going to elaborate, in any way, on what you did to me earlier..?”
“Elaborate…” Bucky repeated. He exhaled, blowing some of the air out of his lungs, then rested his head on the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling for a moment. “I've wanted to do it since that night when I saw you in that little nightgown of yours.” He raised his brow. “And that's about it.” 
You sat up straight, your eyes on Bucky’s face. “That night?” you asked in disbelief. “As a punishment for what?”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Did it really feel like a punishment to you?” 
Even if you were able to answer him without hesitation, you looked away to think about it. Or pretend to think about it. You bit your lip.
“Did it feel good..?” Bucky inquired, his tone gentle and careful. 
You nodded slowly. “Yeah. Very good,” you said, not sure if you should really admit it. “We can do it more often,” you suggested, and Bucky’s eyebrows rose instantly. Taken slightly aback, he peered at you with sudden liveliness, his eyes sparked with fascination that struck him like a speeding train. “What?” you laughed softly, but then understood something — you always sensed a gentle restraint in him, keeping him in check; the chains holding him down. Now, you were able to hear them break. Was it you who destroyed them? Your innocent permission?
Bucky smirked, shaking his head, letting you know he wasn’t going to be too harsh on you. But as harsh as you’d allow him to be. 
He leaned forward, putting his forearms on his knees, and reached for one of the papers so he could return to analyzing the documents. You clung to his back, placing your chin on his shoulder blade. He immediately located his free hand on your arm, wrapped around his torso. 
“Go back to bed,” he said, his eyes still focused on the statements. 
“Am I disturbing you?”
“No, of course not,” Bucky assured right away, “but aren’t you tired, sunshine?” He turned his head as far as he could to glance at you at least from the corner of his eye. Taking the opportunity, you stretched out further, to reach his face, and planted a few quick but tender pecks on his cheek, making him laugh softly.
Tumblr media
a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰
taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @buckysgirl01 @emily-roberts @prettylittlepluviophile @leaaa008 @itvy5601 @melsunshine @pattiemac1 @marvel-fandom23 @rabbitrabbit12321 @xsecretsirenx @heyyitsreign @xhollycowx @samfreakingwinchester @thrnlvr @samjuarezzz @loustan90 @kandis-mom @abaker74 @gabshouse @casa-boiardi @globetrotter28 @fand0mskullfa1ry @iateall-yourcookies @swordofawriter @theroyalmanatee @midnightvitality @thebuckybarnesvault @milanaasblog @itsmytimetoodream @talesofadragon @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @bbiaa420 @funkybarnes @sebastians-love @walkingwithoutreason @hereticdance @abitofblues @purple-vegan @queenashen @oqueano @yourdryadwife @lethallyprotected @abbyyourlocalmilf @sapphirebarnes @matchat3a
326 notes · View notes
misguidedasgardian · 2 years
Text
The dutiful
Tumblr media
AU MASTERLIST
Summary: Your Mob Boss father´s last wish was for you to marry his right-hand and most trusted man, Lloyd Hansen, you fight against it, but at the end, you are the ever dutiful daughter. Now he is the boss, and has to assert his dominance over you, and over his men  
Pairing: Mob!Lloyd Hansen x Fem!Reader
Warnings: DARK, misogynistic behaviour, mob bussiness, age gap (Lloys is late thirties, reader is mid-twenties), death of a parent, dub-con, unprotected rough sex, (don’t be silly wrap your willy), voyeurism (some guys watch you being claimed), little fingering, degradation, mocking, cursing, pet names, breeding kink, marriage kink, slight cumplay and eating, might miss some warnings. 
+18 MINORS DNI
Wordcount: 4.1 k
Notes: Oh my I just love Lloyd, I mean look at thim, I could throw everything I believe in and all the feminism trough the window just to get on my knees between his murdr thighs…. I hope you enjoy this gift Lloyd Lovers…. I mean the movie is not even OUT yet, we only had seen a minute of content and I’m already drippingggggg
not beta-ed, mistakes are current and my own hihi
HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRISSSS
Tumblr media
You looked through the window at the mournful scenery, the sky weeped as you did, now it was a dark gray, the trees surrounding your father's property seemed so scary now, under this cloudy sky. A deep green who seemed to hide the darkest secrets. Everything seemed so dark after your father passed away just two days ago. You felt so alone now, your mansion so big and lonely, and so scary
Your thoughts were interrupted when the door of your father’s office opened, revealing a man that only by seeing him made you feel incredibly relieved. You walked towards him with a shy smile, hugging yourself until you reached him 
“Hey sweetheart, how are you doing?” Andrew Barber, your father's lawyer greeted you with sympathetic eyes and a shy smile, he kissed your forehead as you appreciate the gesture of a man you’d known since you could remember
“Hey Andy, thank you for coming” you hugged yourself again, behind him Lloyd Hansen entered your late father’s study, and it made you wince, that man scared in a primal way you’d never end to understand. His eyes always seemed to find you and a dark smile followed, his perfectly trimmed mustache moves with his thin lips
“Hey Sunshine” he greeted
“Hey Lloyd” you whispered, not daring to even look him in the eye.
Your father was the city’s most notorious Mobster, Gangster, drug dealer. It was the truth and it was so ingrained in your system you took it as a normal part of life. Half of his businesses were indeed legit, after years of money laundering. Lloyd Hansen was his right hand man, he knew everything about the business and before being his most trusted man he was the enforcer, the most violent and bloodthirsty amongst his men. Former special agent of the CIA turned, he was dangerous, skilled in combat and war, and now most likely the head of the family. 
Your attention turned to Andy again, as he took a seat in your late father’s seat behind the desk of his study
You took a seat in front of the desk, Lloyd placed himself behind you, making a lightning strike run down your back making you incredibly uncomfortable. Andy draw papers from his briefcase and laid them on the mahogany desk, organizing them in a tidy manner
“I’m here as an executor of your father's last will and testament” he said firmly, his lawyer face taking over. You nodded, knowing perfectly well his intentions, and calmly you listened to the man. You were your father’s only child, and your mother passed away when you were young, to your knowledge, you were his only heir, but Lloyd had been called too, you guessed to pass all the dark business to him
“Me, (Y/F/N) being sound of mind and body, present my last wish and testament” he started, reading your father’s last words, “Half of everything I have, properties and money on the accounts will belong to my only daughter (Y/N)” you let out a breath you haven’t even realized you were holding, in relief, “Even if it breaks my heart…” continued Andy with a frown, that made your blood ran cold, “... to leave you alone my sweet girl…” he continued, “...My last dying wish and conditions for you to receive my inheritance is for you to marry my right hand man Lloyd, who I’m inheriting the other half of all my belongings”
“What?” you asked, drawing the attention of both men, Lloyd’s hand squeezed your shoulders, “Did you know about this?” you stood from your seat with the sole purpose of looking him in the eyes, and stopped the contact. Lloyd was smiling knowingly
“Of course I did” he said calmly, “I was his right-hand man, the son he never had”
“Fuck you” you spitted out, “This is insane” Andy called you and you looked at him
“Andy” you called, pleading
“It was his last wish” he said firmly, “he was sound of body and mind…” you looked at Lloyd frowning
“What did you do? what did you say to him?”
“Nothing” he mocked, “He was always so afraid something could happen to you, he wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of after he was gone”
“I’m a grown woman” you said, “I can take care of myself”
“Yeah sure, what if his enemies come after you, uh?” he said then
“This is a conversation you should have in private” muttered Andy
“I want a witness” you demanded, “Look you can keep his dirty business, we can split everything in half I don’t care” you muttered, “But I think is excessive that I marry you, only because he didn’t think I could take care of myself”
“The will explicitly says that you only inherit after you mary Lloyd” Andy said, “this was redacted 6 months ago, and again, is valid, we all know he was in his right mind” you looked at Lloyd, he seemed so relaxed and calm
“Andy, get the fuck out of here” Lloyd demanded, but before he could leave you interupted in anger
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you asked, “You do not boss him around” but Andy look at you with sorry eyes
“He does now, sweetheart” he said, before he put all the documents on his briefcase and left the room, leaving you alone with Lloyd, who took two long steps to be right in front of you
He encased your jaw with his hand, his face so close to you you could feel his hot breath on your face, making the little hairs of your neck curl. his maddened gaze made you squirmed
“I’ve been at your father's side for fifteen years, and my father for longer” he said, “and a spoiled little brat is not going to keep me from assuming the lead of this family”
“Let me go” you cried
“You are going to marry me, whether you liked it or not, and before you think about it, good luck finding someone that could help you”
“All of this for power?” you asked, “Let it all burn to the ground I’m not marrying you!” 
“I’m going to be the boss, and no one is going to ruin this for me” 
“You are never going to be the boss!” you spitted out, anger gripping your every cell, you had never remembered an instance in which you were more angry that you were right now. You released yourself from his grasp and walked until you were behind the desk 
“Oh really?” He drew a smile so wicked it made you shiver. Of all your father’s men, you feared Lloyd the most, not because of his aspect, but because of his silent, deadly and smug demeanor. You knew him and knew what he was capable of, and that’s why you feared and respected him, but now? you were so angry you didn’t care, but you should…
He was on you in a second, with his hand encasing your throat and made you retreat until your back was against the wall. You whined and squirmed, trying to scratch his thick arm, but he was wearing a wool sweater that prevented you from injuring him
“Let me go!” you cried 
“No until you marry me, hell, maybe not even then” he chuckled darkly. His handsome face, his hand on your neck barely squeezing, the single tone of his voice made your thighs clench. You had always found him hellishly attractive, but dangerous, so dangerous. He seemed to read your thoughts, because he smiled wickedly, wrinkles appearing in the corners of his eyes. “I have to confess, I always wanted to do this, claim you, like you belonged to me…” he growled like a raging animal, and in a primal way you felt the danger, not only for your body but for your very soul, he was going to devour you whole. “Because you do”
“No” you whined, staying incredibly still
“I will make you mine then” he growled. He threw you over the desk, the air suddenly left your lungs when he pressed you against the hardwood
“I’m going to take what is mine” he threatened in your ear.
“Please lloyd, be nice” you begged, knowing that you couldn’t stop him, and actually doubting if you even wanted him to stop him. You felt so exposed like this, your dress a little short so your ass was almost uncovered. He held you against his desk with one of his hands behind your neck grabbing you oughly, and the other sneaked under your dress,
“I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll beg me to marry you” he laughed 
“I’ll never…!” he ripped your thighs in a single movement, the sting burned your skin and the sudden chill air in your skin made you tremble, “no please” you begged, squeezing your thighs tighter. You didn’t know if you really wanted to stop him, or if you were scared he’d found how wet you were for him.
It was the latter
“Would you look at that” of course he mocked you, “I haven’t even touched you yet and I can actually see how wet you are without even taking out your panties” you whined hiding your face from him, but nothing could scape him, he was over everything, that’s why he was going to be the boss after all. 
“NO” you moaned, when you felt he sneaky fingers dangerously creeping in the lines of your panties
“I think you need to come to terms with the fact that I’m going to claim you, and you want me to do it” he mocked you, you trembled with a single of his fingers lazyly and barely touched your weeping pussy, almost a light touch was enough to made you moan
“No I don’t, you are not the boss” you wanted to provoke him, you wanted more, you wanted to tip him over the edge
“Let’s see, shall we?” his hand left your underwear and you didn’t like it. 
He touched a single button on the phone right beside your head, a gruff voice greeted Lloyd at the other side 
“Ari, would you be a sunshine and get the men in here?” he asked on the phone, and you trembled under him, squirming and turning like an alligator. 
“No!” you whined, but he only chuckled darkly, resuming his movements under your dress, finally ripping your underwear, “Why…?” a moan escaped your mouth interrupting yourself when you felt his thick fingers entering your pussy, his thumbs pressed on your clit making you cry out in need. You were so wet you thought something embarrassing had happened
“You are right, I will never be the boss” he said simply, “If I don’t assert my dominance now…” the door opened and trough it all your father’s most trusted men walked in, Andy, Ari Levinson, Nick Fowler, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, August Walker… you couldn’t see the rest because your eyes turned to the back of your head when two of his fingers curled inside of you touching and rubbing your g spot making you cum on the spot without a single warning
“Sunshine!” he reprimanded you but with a mocking voice, “You had to give a little preview first” he mocked, “I barely touched her sweet, wet little pussy and she already cummed on my fingers!” he told the rest. And you whined trying to hide your face from their heated gazes. The shame was overpowering your pleasure, tears threatened to burn your eyes.
“C'mon Sunshine” he purred in your ear, “give them a show, prove them that you are mine” his fingers kept moving, provoking, exploring. You felt his weight on your back, “Can’t wait to make you cum on my mouth” and the ghost feeling of his mustache on your clit make you tingle against him, and you wondered how good it must feel.
“´Lloyd” you called
“What do you want, baby?” he asked,
“You” you moaned, wiggling your hips. You heard laughs and chuckled, but you focused on the feeling of your body instead, if not you were going to cry
“You want me?” he asked
“Yes please” you whispered. And he chuckled
“How can I say no to that?” the fingers left your pussy, his other hand still having you by the back of your neck. Single handedly you heard him unbuckle his belt and opening his fly
“Andy, you are ordained, right?” he asked 
“That’s right” you heard him answer 
“Can you marry us while she is cumming around my cock?” he asked
“Your orders boss”
“That’s damn right,” he said, pleased. grabbing his cock and ruining it with your weeping entrance. You buckle your hips at his rhythm. “Well gentleman, as you can see, I’m staking my claim” in one single push he was buried inside you to the hilt. You screamed in a mix of pain and pleasure. Because no matter how wet you were, his cock was so thick and big it still burned when he split you open for him
“Shit!” you cursed biting your lower lip, closing your eyes tightly as you felt every vein, every ridge, and his tip kissing your cervix
“Holy shit this pussy is so good” he moaned darkly, one of his hands grabbing your hip so tight you knew it was going to leave a mark. “It’s squeezing me like a fist” 
“Lloyd” you cried, begged him, to move or to do something, because you knew that when he does, you were going to feel fucking amazing. You wanted to reach him, to touch him, but you couldn’t because of your position, the edge of the desk marking your thighs, your own body constricting your rib cage… but that all came to second place as you felt him retrieve himself and then thrust into you again, a slap sound could be heard in the room. His groin slapping against your ass. you moaned loudly, not hiding anymore how good he was making you feel. 
He started a rough tandem, drawing sounds you had never made before. your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his cock rubbed against that special spot. his and left the back of your neck and grabbed your hips, drawing you to him to meet each thrust. 
“Fuck look at her” you heard the voice of Ari Levinson mocking you, watching your every expression your every sound you drew. Lloyd grabbed you by your hair, making you raise your head in the direction of your audience
“Look at her” he demanded, you opened your eyes and you looked at them, “look at her fucked out face” you closed your eyes, trying to zoom them out and just focus on how good you felt. 
You felt an orgasm coming, your pussy clenched around him greedily, you moaned softly when he released you gently, letting you hide your face again in your folded arms.
“Fuck that’s it” he grabbed you by the hair again and made you twist your head in a way he could see your face twisted in pleasure, looking at how good you looked when you cummed
“So hot” he growled, “sweet girl that’s it, give me everything” your juice stained the base of his cock and made his thrusts resound in a squelching sound. 
He took himself off of you, and you whined in protest, not liking it. You didn’t even get to see your audience and he turned you around, opening your legs and placing himself between them. He caressed your thighs gently before he grabbed them and made you stick to his hips. Your pussy colliding with his thick cock. You couldn’t see it, and you really wanted to, but he entered you so easily it was almost embarrassing, barely needing a little push the open you up for him again, the new, more intimate angle made the friccion it even more delicious when he kept his hard pase and rough thrusts. You wanted him against you, you reached for him also wanting to cover yourself from the men, that you could barely see from this new angle 
 and he leaned into you, his forehead pressing against yours. 
His hands encased your ribcage, finally feeling your front. He leaned in to watch your tits bounce over the neckline of your dress. For now it was enough… Now later when he’ll have you all to himself he will take the time to touch you and savor you whole.
“Don’t look at them now, I want your eyes on me when you come undone on my fat cock” he encased your jaw with his hand, his deep blue eyes chilling you to your bone his wicked smile made you tingle even more, losing yourself on his handsome face. “You are going to come again for me baby?”
“It’s too much” you complained, feeling your puffy pussy weeping, so tender, raw and sensitive you were going to pass out
“Are you going to marry me now?” you kept turning and twisting
“No” it was a negative but you couldn’t hold a moan that came with it, the feeling of his thick cock rubbing against your walls were making you feel insanely good, your eyes were turning to the back of your head, and yet another orgasm was creeping on you and you fleetingly thought you were going to lose it. Your consciousness, your mind, your body, all of it. 
“Really?” but as you almost touched the sky with your hands, he pulled out of you, making you whine in need, looking at him with teary eyes and found his mock face, smiling widely at you. You whined touching his black cardigan, demanding he resumed his thrusts
“No, please” you begged, your fingers sneaking under his wool vest and touching the hot skin of his muscled belly 
“What do you want, you little slut?” he mocked
“please” your hands tried to find his cock, and he laughed in your face, mocking you, “keep doing it” you begged 
“Are you seeing this?” he asked, looking at his men, many of them were touching themselves over their dress pants, many had their cocks out, and were shamelessly masturbating, “This little slut begging is something else” he turned his gaze back at you 
“I’m not a slut” you protested
“That’s right, you are only mine” he entered you again and an inhuman sound left your lips. your walls grabbed him like a vice. And he amazed himself of how much he wanted to cum inside you. Something similar flied through your mind you wanted to cum, but the gaze of all of them on you wouldn’t let you 
“Please Lloyd” you cried, your shame of being watched couldn't let you relax, “I’m marrying you” you promised, begging him with your eyes. his eyes looked in your for any signs of a lie, but couldn’t find any, his thumb caressed your cheek, and then he looked up to the group of men. He stilled his movements, leaving himself seated inside of you 
“Get out” demanded to his men, and they all even looked shocked, that he would draw the line there after all of it, “GET THE FUCK OUT!” He shouted making you wince and they left the room like it was on fire. When the door clicked shut after the last one, he looked down at you, in his eyes where something other than malice and desire, something more… human
“I’m going to make you mine,” he sentenced. “This is where you belong, right under me” his sudden tenderness made you swallow your own words, as he resumed his movements, his eyes never leaving yours, his hands encased your face, keeping you in place gently, “You are mine” you just nodded, “say it” he demanded
“I’m yours” you said lowly 
“You are going to marry me” he said then
“I’m going to marry you” you mumbled, your eyes trying to manifest him that you weren’t lying, you didn’t know if it was the pleasure, or fear 
“You are going to have my babies” he demanded then
“I’m going to have your babies” you confirmed
“I’m going to keep you nice and bred all the fucking time” he growled his wicked smile appearing again as he leaned in and kissed you. 
It was the first time he ever kissed you. His mustache tickled you making you smile against his mouth. and he chuckled darkly, grabbing you by the neck and pushed you until you were against the wood, taking your breath away when he separated himself from you
“I’m going to take care of you” he promised, “say it, believe it”
“You are going to take care of me” you whispered, and he smiled, kissing you again, this time, he didn’t release you and instead he fucked you rougher, faster, the tip of his cocks grazing your special spot every single time, you moaned on his mouth wantonly, needed him, your arms hugged him drawing him more tightly against you. Your legs wrapped around his middle, keeping him even closer to you. not wanting him to let you go. And just like that, your orgasm creeped out on you, your walls tightening around him, strangled his cock inside you. 
“That’s it baby” when he separated himself from you a thin line of saliva still joined your hungry mouths
“Lloyd” you called like a prayer, looking into his eyes
“Fuck!” he yelled, with a last hard thrust he stilled inside you, cumming so hard, hot spurts of him cum painting your walls. “Shit Sunshine” he whined letting himself fall over your. You hugged him tightly against you, like you didn’t want him to separate from you, you didn’t want to let him go. “That’s it Pumpkin, sweet girl” he kissed your forehead, “FUck, I never cummed that hard before, shit” his stormy blue eyes found yours. And as you regained your breaths, you gazed upon one another. He kissed you again. more swiftly but no less powerful
You whined when he took himself off of you. Not liking the emptiness he left 
“Don’t worry honey, I’ll be inside of you soon enough” he said with his gruff voice
You felt his thick seed dripping from your hole and down your thighs. Making you moan, repressing the need to collect it with your fingers, Lloyd did it for you, and then he fed it to you, rubbing his fingers in your mouth, and smiled widely when you licked his fingers, tasting his seed and moaning because of his salty taste
“That’s a good wife” he mocked, he actually helped you with your dress, putting it back in place and helped you on your feet. You whined again when your lack of pantis made you feel his cum dripping down your thighs, staining them
“Lloyd” you cried, but not even knew what you wanted from him, you looked into his eyes and he smiled softly, encasing your face with his hands, and leaned in to kiss you softly
“Mine” he growl against your mouth
“Yours” you confirmed, he lets go off you
“Now I need to talk to the men, so wifey, smile and go make me a nice dinner” he whispered derogatorily in your ear, spanking your ass, encouraging you to leave the office, the men outside smiling knowingly when they saw you, but they bowed with their heads as you passed by them. You were the wife of the boss now. 
You heard the men laugh when they saw you could barely walk out of the study, hearing Lloyd
“Now, you all are going to pledge your allegiance to me” he demanded as you kept walking towards the kitchen to talk to the staff about the new order in the house
He was the boss now. And you were no longer the dutiful daughter, now you were the dutiful wife. 
Tumblr media
I've wanted to write about the clit tickler for a while now, and I will do it again! muajaja
PART II IN HERE
4K notes · View notes
hopingforevillove · 2 years
Text
MOB!BUCKY
@sinner-as-saint
A Sweeter Place
Predestined
Hostage of Your Eyes
Love Made Me Crazy
Twilight Moments With You
Wreck My Plans
Purpose
I am Your Fall
Come Home
Night Hours
Yours to Wield
Into Your Arms
Ruin
Good to You
@kinanabinks
Adventures with his little Fairy
@buckgasms
Bunny and Clyde
The Bet
@bucky-barnes-diaries
Night & Mornings
His Most Prized Possession
@raysheart
Little lily
Come Home
@cryptidcasanova
My Devotion
R U Mine?
@wintersldr1
If you were mine
Tell me you’re mine
Taken
@chrisevansredbelt
Love and War
@christowhore
Eye for an Eye
@youlightmeupfinn
Handled
My keeper
Noises
Dance with Me
3K notes · View notes
sebastianstansqueen · 9 months
Text
Lost in The Shadows Masterlist
A/n: Here is the new story, we'll see what happens, as always to be tagged go to tagglist link in my bio or just down below, or send an ask, message or comment on this.
Summary: Y/n was a whisper on everyone in New York's lips, she practically ran the state, for the most part. She was only twenty-five and getting ready to find her third husband, she sat behind the desk where her father, and then her second husband sat once, and now she did.
(Mechanic!Bucky x Mob/Mafia Boss!Reader)
Tagglist // Masterlist 
Tumblr media
{ Part 1 }
{ Part 2 }
{ Part 3 }
{ Part 4 }
{ Part 5 }
{ Part 6 }
{ Part 7 }
{ Part 8 }
{ Part 9 }
{ Part 10 }
{ Part 11 }
{ Part 12 }
{ Part 13 }
{ Part 14 }
{ Part 15 }
{ Part 16 }
{Part 17 -End-}
400 notes · View notes
gaysindistress · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
gif credits to @sebastianstannibal
Here's part two to the fake dating drabble I wrote for @bucks-and-noble's Valentrope fest
warnings: smut and lowkey violence but not to f!reader. plain and simple this is porn. please do not read if you're a minor.
bucky's masterlist | main masterlist
Tumblr media
“I’m apologizing right now for what you’re about to walk into.”
Bucky clears his throat and readjusts in the driver’s seat as we slowly drive down the long driveway lined with manicured hedges. 
“What are you talking about?” 
The wedding that I dragged him to is for a friend that Bucky isn’t particularly fond of, something I neglected to mention but I knew he wouldn’t agree if I told him. Honestly I’m surprised that he hasn’t caught on yet with how many signs we’ve passed on the way to the venue. He’s been rather distracted stealing glances at me. 
“Aw fuck,” he curses when he finally does see the biggest sign yet. “This is Maisie’s wedding, isn’t it?”
Cocking my head at him, I bat my lashes and pout my lips, “Forgive me?”
He inhales sharply. Against his better judgment, glances at my glossy lips and then to my chest. The sweetheart neckline as well as the bias cut of my navy dress is exactly why I chose to wear it. Bucky’s always had a wandering eye when it comes to ‘an angel in the flesh’ as he puts it but right now it’s down right sinful. He’s eyeing me like the Devil lurks beneath his matching navy Armani suit and he’s ready to devour me whole. 
“You owe me after this,” he finally says with a dramatic sigh. 
The ceremony went exactly how I imagined it would ourlPampas grass, dried sage, and red flora that I’ve never seen before covers every inch of the aisle as well as every other surface. Burnt orange cheesecloths drape from the trees, the six different wood arches, and run across all of the tables. The signs that Maisie definitely had her bridal party help her make are everywhere and written on them are sayings that Bucky can’t stop making jokes about. 
“Babe, I can’t make this up. That sign says ‘This way to buffet, booze, and bad dance moves.’ What ring of hell is this?”
“Oh my god, Bucky, you need to shut up. These are the type of people to say ‘bless your heart’ and pray for god to smite you in your sleep,” I whisper to him. I loop my arm around his and he’s quick to put his hand over the top of mine on his bicep. 
“If it gets me away from this place, then I’d welcome it.”
I roll my eyes at him and keep us moving towards the open field where the reception is at. 
“Y/N? Is that you?” 
I tense beside my fake boyfriend and hesitantly look over my shoulder to see the one person I did not expect to see here; my ex boyfriend Marc. 
“If that’s who I think that is,” Bucky grumbles and curses under his breath when he sees who it is. “I’m going to kill Maisie. Why would she invite that cunt?”
“Bucky, behave.” I mumble to him and turn to greet this cunt, “Marc, hi how are you?”
The first thing he does is look me up and down, eyes lingering on my chest just as I expected. Bucky’s arm slips from mine and finds its way around my waist where he tugs me into his side and squeezes my hip. Marc smirks at his actions as he finally makes eye contact with me. 
“I’m good. I see your dog finally worked up the courage...”
Bucky cuts him by clearing his throat, “You’d do well to remember that this ‘dog’ isn’t with a bite.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Have the evening you deserve,” I tell him before I drag Bucky away and towards whatever shit bar they have. 
The dog on my arm has other plans and pulls me off to the side where there’s just a tree with even more cheesecloth swinging in the wind. He glances around to make sure no one is around before letting his hardened demeanor fall away and to reveal the adorable face he makes when he’s stressed. It’s not healthy to think that someone in a vulnerable state is ‘adorable’ but I can’t help it when his brows furrows together, his jaw tenses, and he looks at me with all the concern in the world. 
“Doll I need you to be honest with me right now; how many more people like that am I going to run into at this thing?” 
That concern has morphed into something darker and it has me straightening my back, squaring my shoulders, and my thighs clenching. 
“Well I didn’t know that he…” I trail off as Bucky draws closer. His blue eyes are piercing into the fabric of my soul the closer he gets to me and I find myself backing up to get away. Rough bark scratches at my back and my hair gets tangled into it as I crane my head up to look at the mob boss. 
“I’m going to have to stop you there. Who else could be here?” 
Chest heaving and breathing short, I shake my head at him. “I don’t know. I didn't see anyone else.”
A hand finds its way to my jaw and the other plants itself against the tree next to my head. He tilts my chin up and ghosts his lips over mine while calling me a good girl. My eyes flutter shut at the name and his low voice. 
“Tell me your rules again.” He pulls away from me and watches me with hooded eyes as I glare at him. 
“No kissing, minimal touching, and no violence,” I spit out at him. 
“I think,” he starts, letting his eyes flicker to my parted lips as his thumb rubs under them, “we should revise them a bit.”
“What do you propose they be then?”
“No violence is changed to only when necessary,” his thumb presses into my bottom lip. “Minimal touching becomes whatever I see fit,” it pulls my lip down slightly. “And no kissing goes away altogether,” it slips into my mouth and I greedily wrap my lips around it, sucking at it while he lets out a shuddered breath. 
I let it go with a pop and a thin line of spit breaks after his thumb comes to rest on my chin. 
“What do you say, doll?”
Pushing away from the tree, I grip the lapels of his jacket and pull him flush against my chest. I push up onto my toes and flick his earlobe with my tongue before whispering, “this is all fake. You don’t get to change the rules because you don’t like them. They stay exactly as they are.”
The look of determination set on his face is immensely satisfying especially. I’ve seen how his past girls have completely submitted to him, allowing him to control every aspect of their relationship because that’s how he likes it. Bucky is a man that needs to feel powerful and stable at all times and that extends to even the smallest things. Many of our nights out have been ruined for some reason or another. Most of the time I don’t even know why, just that I’m being shuffled out the back door with a circle of heavily armed men around me while Bucky deals with the mistake. 
“I know you’re not a gambler, my sweet y/n but I’d like to make a bet with you.”
I quirk a brow, “what kind of bet?”
“If you haven’t broken your rules by the end of the night, I’ll take you to Greece. If you break or even bend them, you have to go on a date with me.”
My hands stop brushing down his lapels and I stare blankly at him. “Greece and Italy. For three weeks.”
“Whatever you want, doll but,” he warns me with a finger raised between us and points it at me, “you can’t break your rules even a little bit.” 
I snap at him, pretending to bite his finger and he yanks it back with a smile. “You have a bet but keep your finger to yourself.” 
Bucky nods with a smile still wide on his stunning face. He backs up, giving me space to make myself presentable again before taking us back to the reception. It’s already turned into an event of debauchery and sin with guests taking shots, hitting pens, and forming a grinding circle on the dance floor. 
Maisie finds me within moments and screams as she races over to me. 
“Y/n babe! Oh my god! You’re here!” She shrieks and pulls me into a bone crushing hug. She has two shots in her hand and they nearly spill on my back but somehow the drink girl prevents that from happening. 
Bucky chuckles before leaving us to go find drinks. Maisie shoots him a dirty glare before it turns into a drink smile and she’s vibrating with glee. 
I arch a brow at her, “what was that for?”
She blinks at me. “What was what?”
“That look you gave him.”
“Ohhhhh,” she sighs and shoves a shot into my hand, “that. You know I don’t like him and now you guys are dating and ugh. He’s always such an ass and controlling and moody and I don’t understand what you see in him. He’s a dick and I just..”
“Okay okay, I get it. You don’t like him,” I roll my eyes at her, “but you said the same thing about Marc and he’s here.”
“No, there's a difference. Jake and him are friends. Also are you really arguing with me at my wedding? That’s really fucking rude,” Maisie tries to sound stern but giggles slip out between her words and her smile breaks her expression. “Come on! Come have fun with me. I wanna dance and drink and have fun! Take your shot, you pussy!” 
I playfully growl at her before we both throw back the tequila shots. Before I can say something smart back, she has an iron grip on my wrist and is dragging me to the dance floor. The music pounds so loud that I feel it in my chest, worming its way around my body and getting me high off the adrenaline. Unable to feel the difference between my heartbeat and the bass, I allow it to overcome me as Maisie starts to bounce and sway in front of me. It’s as if the deep vibrations of the music are controlling and contorting our bodies in whatever way it sees fit. My eardrums feel like they might burst but the tequila is hitting faster than I thought it would and my only concern is dancing. 
I find myself so completely entranced with the music, the drinking, and Maisie’s chaotic dancing that I don’t notice the big hands that find my waist. They pull me backwards causing my back to hit a solid body and the smell of familiar expensive cologne washes over me. Maisie grins as her new husband does the same to her and she turns her head so they can kiss like sloppily teenagers. The hands at my waist start to guide my hips into a lazy grind against theirs. Maisie’s overwhelming perfume masks the differences in the one behind me so much that I don’t even notice that it’s not the same as the one Bucky wears. Where I should be smelling Tom Ford’s Tobacco Vanille, Blue de Chanel is in its place. 
My eyes flutter closed and my head drops back against the chest behind me. There’s a rumbling at my back from the chuckle that this man lets out. One of his hands leaves my waist and trails up until it’s resting on my neck. Cradling my jaw, he softly kisses under my ear before whispering, “you finally escaped your dog?”
I hear Maisie say my name and she draws my focus from the man behind me to her. She’s offering her hand out to me as she rubs her nose. There’s a thin white line across the top of her hand and her thumb.
“Maisie, is that coke?” I hiss at her and try to pull away from my dance partner. He doesn’t let me and I whip around to see that it’s Marc. The cologne makes sense now and I rip his hands off of me, “Jesus Christ get away from me!”
“Oh my god, calm down. You’re so dramatic sometimes,” Maisie whines before snorting the line she’d offered me. 
Marc’s heated stare starts to get under my skin and a shutter races through me before I can stop it. My eyes frantically scan the crowd, searching for the oceanic ones that I see in my dreams every night. 
They find me in moments. 
A mix of emotions floods me as we lock eyes; first a wave of relief quickly followed by fear. Even from this distance I can see the tension in his shoulders, the muscle feathering in his jaw, the scowl set on his face, and the dead look in his eyes that he only gets when murder is on his mind. 
Marc yanks me back into him and the countless memories of arguments and bitter looks rush back to me. When we dated he knew exactly how to piss me off, how to push every button I had and get under my skin. He would challenge me any chance he got, making me feel small and insignificant. He would say the cruelest things to invade my mind and destroy my self esteem. 
“Stop fucking around, Marc.” Bucky sighs with a deep set scowl as he comes to stand before us. “Let go of her and I’ll think about letting you keep your hands.”
Marc’s grip tightens around my bicep as he scoffs, “oh I’m so scared. The big bad wolf is threatening me, whatever ever am I going to do? Fuck off Barnes.”
The crowd around us is none the wiser to the chaos that is about to erupt and quite frankly I don’t even think I know what’s about to happen. Maisie’s husband pulls her away when she tries to step between the three of us and keeps her against him. Bucky dips his head and rubs at his eyes as he lets out another annoyed sigh. He mumbles ‘alright’ as her his breath before flipping back his suit jacket, reading behind himself, and producing his favored Glock 19. It’s aimed directly at the invisible red mark between Marc’s eyes and my ex immediately drops me in favor of throwing his hands up in the air. 
“Now step back,” Bucky utters as he slowly stalks towards us. I side step as best as I can to get out of the way.  Marc does as he’s told and of course Bucky needs to pour salt in the wound. “The next time I see you I won’t give you a warning.”
Neither man moves until Bucky pretends to lunge forward and Marc stumbles backwards to get away. He turns his attention to Maisie while he tucks his gun away and extends a hand out to me. 
“And you,” he starts with a sharp nod to her, “you do something like that again and I’ll wire your husband’s balls to a railroad track, do you understand me?”
“Bucky,” I whisper to him with a light pull on his hand but he doesn’t budge. 
“Do you understand me?” He repeats and Maisie nods frantically while her husband looks pale and like he might throw up. 
“Bucky,” I try again and he glances at me before squeezing my hand and leading me away. 
“Excuse me!” I try again and come to a complete halt once the wedding is behind us. My hand slips from his and so does my sense of safety. Bucky’s eyes widened for a moment at my tone before going back to their usual dead expression. 
He sets off in a near jog to the car, leaving me behind. “You fucking prick,” I curse before running to catch up with him. I grab his arm and force him to stop. “What the fuck was that back there?”
I apparently didn’t realize how close we were because when he turns around, we’re chest to chest. His nose is flared from how hard he’s breathing and his eyes are piercing as he stares down at me. 
“No one,” he whispers as he leans into me, “gets to treat you like that.”
“I know but no violence was one of my rules and you…”
He cuts me off, “Doll, I’m not the man you seem to think I am. Who I am around you, how I act around you is not the same man everyone else sees. I wash the blood off of my hands before I visit you because I don’t want my girl to be tainted by the shit I do. I change suits so that you don’t smell the stench of guns and filth that permeates my business meetings. I keep men assigned to you around the clock so that no one gets close to you without me knowing. The man I am with you, y/n, is someone that no one else gets to see and that's the way I want to be. I don’t you to know the Bucky that my men know and that’s why I let you drag me here as your fake boyfriend and agree to your silly fucking rules. I respected the fact that you didn’t want to change them and I was fully prepared to bite my tongue but then Marc put his hands on you. That was unacceptable and I should’ve shot him right then and there but I didn’t because you would’ve never forgiven me. I can live without a lot but you aren’t someone I’m willing to give up.”
My eyes flicker to his lips, betraying my need to maintain control over my emotions and the situation. My hands drift up his arm and stop on his chest. His heart thumps steadily against my hand despite his confession and the night in general. 
“I’m not willing to give you up either,” I cooed and pulled him down into a passionate kiss before he could stop me. He grunts in surprise before kissing me back with equal fire and cradling my face in his hands. 
He pulls back and rests his forehead against mine, “You owe me a date.”
“Fuck off,” I mumble back and dive back into a searing kiss. His hands find my waist and pin me against him, causing his hard bulge to press into my abdomen. I can feel myself start to grow wet as he head dips down to press kisses along the curve of my neck. I inhale sharply, craning my neck further to the side to allow him more access. His lips latch onto my pulse point as my fingers lace into his hair, tugging at the short styled strands. 
A particularly sharp tug causes him to groan against my skin and he pulls away to meet my lustful gaze.
“Backseat now,” he orders while taking a step back. It doesn't register what he means at first but another step away and reality sets in. I take my heels off, keeping our eyes locked as I slip off my birthday present from him last year. 
“Doll,” he says slowly, “I said…”
“I heard what you said,” I throw over my shoulder as I strut past him and towards his car. 
The second I open the car door his hands are gripping my waist to hoist me inside as he climbs in behind me. Bucky moves me to sit on his lap and he silences any chance of me arguing with a hungry kiss. His hands burn as they knead and grope at the silk of my dress, desperately searching for a handful of me as he licks at my lips to let his tongue in. His lips are soft, a beautiful surprise as his calloused hands as they slide against my own, no doubt smearing my lipstick all over. 
Finally fed up with the silky fabric of my dress, his hands find their way under where he grabs a handful of my ass. The feeling of his warm hand against the slivers of skin that peak through my lace underwear causes us both to moan. The sound has me unbuttoning his jacket and shoving it off his shoulders before moving to his shirt. One of his hands stays on my ass, beginning to knead it as the other attempts to find the zipper at my back. 
“Shit Doll,” he moans out as my cold hands get his shirt undone and explore the expanse of his chest. He bucks up into me and I break the kiss to dive my head down to his neck to place open-mouthed kisses there. Breathless moans and sighs fall from his lips as our hips move in sync. 
The strong hand that is on my ass has migrated from groping the supple fat to playing with the waistband on my panties. He lifts his hips to sit lower in the seat and spreads his legs, prying mine apart in the process. Those thick digits slip down until they find the wet heat he’s caused. His palm cups me entirely and I whimper against his neck at the feeling. 
“Fuck, don’t tell me you’re this wet because i threatened that cunt?” 
All I can do is gasp when he pushes aside my panties and runs his middle finger through my folds. It slips between my folds and I curse his name. My back arches in as he runs another finger through them and spreads the wetness around my clit. 
“Yes, oh my god, yes,” I pant out. If it wasn’t for his fingers pushing into me, I would’ve been horrified at the desperate desire that’s ripping wanton moans from my swollen lips. 
The feeling of his thick fingers scissoring as his thumb finds my clit causes me to moan into his mouth. The familiar tightening in my stomach is building until it crashes over me while gasps and quiet chants of his name mark the beginning of the end. I clench around his fingers as my eyes flutter shut and I allow myself to fall into the blinding white light that’s consuming me. He removes his hands from my core to grip my hips again. 
I lean in for a deep kiss as my hips start to rock against his clothed cock, grinding my sensitive clit over him with a gasp. One of my hands finds his belt and quickly unbuckles it before diving in his pants to find his cock.  Bucky lets out a shuddering sigh at the feeling of my hand gripping him and giving him a few tugs, spreading his precum around the tip.
“Careful Doll,” he warns against my lips as I rub his tip against my clit, “You don’t want to tease me.”
“And what are you going to do if I decide…” he interrupts by maneuvering me by the waist and slamming me down onto his cock. My hands fly to his chest to steady myself from the sudden movement and we both let out sinful moans. He moves us at a fast and bruising pace, hitting every spot I didn’t know existed. Nothing compares to the way he feels, not my own fingers, a toy, or any past lover. I can’t help the way that I frantically grind down against him. I can feel the car begin to shake from the force of our bodies searching for our mutual releases. My legs feel like they are on fire from keeping myself upright over Bucky but it doesn’t matter. His strong grip does the work for me. 
The smell of pure sex is thick in the air while mixing with the filthy wet sounds of hips meeting each other and two people finding endless pleasure in each other. My orgasm is fast approaching once again and so is his when he starts let out broken moans and curses. “F-fuck…” he groans, “I can feel it, doll. Come for me. Let go with me.” 
"Yes please," I pant back. "Don't stop, please."
He squeezes his eyes tight as he thrusts up a few more harsh times before he becomes sloppy and moves a hand to rub at my swollen clit. The sudden touch sends a jolt through me and I cry out over and over again as my orgasm washes over me. Bucky pants out my name as he too releases and wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. As we both start to come down from our highs, he places light kisses against my forehead and hair. 
Soft and quiet praises are muttered into my skin, “Did so good for me, doll. So proud of you. Absolutely perfect.”
Maybe dragging him to this wedding was a good idea.
652 notes · View notes
Text
In Abstract 2
Tumblr media
A sequel no one asked for. First Series: Portrait of a Dangerous Man
Warnings: noncon/rape, some violence, blood, alluded murder (for now?), grief, confusing, criminal allusions, some untagged extreme events.
This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Synopsis: You adjust to life with Clark, thought the past won’t seem to let you go.
Character: mob!Clark Kent
Note: Thank you all for your support on the first chapter.
Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :) I appreciate your comments and enthusiasm! Reblogs help and are like candy, so please, feed me.
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
Tumblr media
A mosaic of red, amber, and yellow reflects against the wall. The glass shade of the lamp glows low in the airy space, giving enough light to see yourself in the mirror, but leaves the room behind you in gloom. You place an earring on the pillow of your jewelry box, then the other.
You reach to unclasp the ehavy diamond necklace, the noose that signals your ultimate fate. The glint of the gems refracts in your reflection and stings your vision. You freeze and stare at the shell you've become. A mannequin dressed to his delight.
"Leave it," Clark demands from the doorway.
You slowly lower your hands to the edge of the vanity and say nothing. How long has he been watching? The same question you've asked over and over. The rotting guilt of how long it took you to realise the true intentions of this man. Maybe if you saw it sooner…
Maybes do nothing for the present certainty.
You stand between the velvet stool and the desk. As you do, Clark crosses the room and comes up behind you. He holds you in place, he large hands on your shoulders. You avoid his gaze in the mirror.
He hooks his fingers in the satin straps of your dress and follows them down. He feels along the top to the zipper and tugs it down with a single swipe. You brace the table to keep still against his force.
He guides the sleek sheath down your figure and unveils the black lacy ensemble beneath. You've obeyed him and for that he might have mercy. He lets out a hum a your dress heaps at your feet. He reaches around you to cup the lacy bra that does little to conceal you chest.
He leans into you, breathing you in as his hands trails down along your stomach. He purrs as he steps over the stool and perches on it. He has you crowded against the desk.
He retracts his hands as you try not to topple in the tight space. His zippers slices through the silence and he groans. You watch yourself, you see the shame in the hollow depths of your eyes, the defeat in the slant of your shoulders.
He traces the thin straps of the high-cut panties and trails down the scallop of the hem. He shoves his fingers down below your ass and feels along your folds. He wiggles them until your stand wider.
You bend slightly forward, gripping the vanity desk for balance. He teases you, toys with you as you see the subtle movement if his other arm past your reflection. You lower your chin and hide in the storm of your body's betrayal.
He urges you back. You fold to his will, as you always have. Your vision blurs and you're back in that moment. The smell of gunpowder and blood, the last gurgling breaths of the man you spend years with. 
Clark paws at you, pushing aside the lace as he angles you over him. He sits you in his lap slowly, inching into you until you quiver with fullness. You grasp his thigh as he opens you up to the mirror, the sight of him sinking deeper drawing your gaze. You turn your head, ashamed of how the scene intoxicates you.
You loathe this man to the core but he consumes you. Without your permission, he steals the pleasure once reserved only for a man you loved. A man you believed loved you, too.
Your head drops down but he catches your chin and forces it back up. He growls as he nuzzles behind your ear, "watch."
Your eyes snap wide and you see yourself. Weak and defeated in his lap. You feel perilous atop him as he keeps your bodies balanced on the narrow velvet bench. He rocks your hips as his eyes descend to the joining of your lust, the ways your unbidden desire glistens on his thick length.
He bows his head, his fingers finding your tender bud as he tilts you against him. Deliberate long strokes as he moves you to his whim. He kisses your neck, wetting the skin with his tongue before biting into it. You squeal as he snarls, moving you faster, deeper, as he stirs fire in your core.
You moan as your head lolls in his grip. You can't look away. You watch your desecration, feel it eating you from inside out. Your futility dissipates into the ecstast of his fiddling fingers and you twitch as you cum in surrender.
You pant wildly as he drags his hand up your stomach. He curls his fingers, digging his nails into your flesh. He scratches you, tearing at your flesh as he uses you. He moves out faster, and faster, until your dizzy and dumb.
He stands suddenly, jolting you against the desk. Your face hits the glass, your reflection blurred in the mirror. You slap your hand beside you, gripping the frame as he ruts into you without pause. He covers your hand with his, nipping you again, leaving tender spots down your shoulder. 
The feet of the vanity scrape and grind, the contents bouncing atop it, pearls spilling, the diamonds across your collar swinging as you cling on. You shudder and whine as he buries himself over and over, as deep as he can, until the pleasure is tamped out by the pain. 
He spreads his hand across your forehead, forcing your face up as his other hooks around your necklace. He rams against you until your toes slide on the floor, until our bracing onto the wood desperately. Until you're sure you could shatter into pieces.
This is what you wanted, right? The money, the life of an artist, free to sit in a room an paint, only for the cost of your soul.
🎨
Blackness. Silky and swirling. Deep and dull. Reaching for you, pulling you down, swathing you unbreakable bounds. 
BANG!
You wake to the dark room. The gunshot echoes in your ears. So real you swear it must have been. Yet the sonorous house is quiet and the man beside you undisturbed.
You stare up at the ceiling, then trail your gaze down the pointed post of the bed. Clark's warmth clouds around you, his arm draped around your middle. Even asleep, he must keep you in his thrall.
The blankets swoop over his hip, leaving his torso and a single leg naked. You turn your head to stare at the pits of his sockets, the way the darkness gathers in the angles of his face, a wraith at rest. You feel his breath like a desert storm as it escapes him in long blustery snores.
You're still for some time. Just until your heart calms, until Marcus' pleas fade away. You touch his forearm, feeling the bulging veins, and shift it slowly away. You sit up and replace yourself with a pillow.
Carefully, you crawl down to the foot of the bed. You dip a leg down, then the other, bringing your soles flat onto the rug. You sift through the night like wandering soul, sweeping the robe from its hook as you flee to the door. 
You coax the hinges so they don't groan. You leave the clasp uncaught and begin down the hallway. The eerie silence beckons to you.
You go into the room-made-studio. The large easel towers in the shadows, the windows gleaming as the curtains hang at the borders, the snow feeding the moonlight. 
Canvases line the wall, half-finished dreams and torn nightmares. You go to the drawing table and take the sketchbook from atop it. You snatch a pencil from the bunch and look around.
The room changes. The easel overturns and the air laces with nickel and smoke. A deep voice rolls through the lull and tears salt your eyes.
You pull the chain on the lamp and sit in its glow, legs crossed on the cold floor. The pencil moves to record the still life of your memory. The lead turns dull as you scribble, shade, and smudge, until finally it snaps. 
You bat away the gloss of your grief and look at the page. Marcus' chest gapes as his life pools beneath him, stained across your front as you hold the gun, a faceless figure behind you, holding you by a noose. Clark is little more than a humanoid cluster of zig zags and loops. A scribbled beast taunting his prey. 
You drop the pencil and flip to the page before. It’s the same. Almost. In every sketch there’s something slightly out of place. Sometimes it’s not a gun by a knife. Other times, it’s you in the chair, bleeding out, but you’re still holding the gun. You keep turning until you reach the cover and snap the book shut altogether.
Clark stole more than an apartment, a boyfriend, and a life. He stole your art. He extracted your very essence and set it to curdle.
🎨
You add a layer of foam to your mother’s cup before presenting her with your novice attempt at a latte. The overpriced machine is no good in your hands but for a simple medium roast or at best an americano. Can’t mess up espresso and water that much.
She smiles but it doesn’t go further than her lips. She’s unimpressed. It’s out of character given that every inch of the house has thus far astounded her. In a grim way, her enthusiasm echoes Marcus. The way he marveled at the elaborate mansion and fatefully, aspired to it.
“Fancy machine,” she comments as she slides her mug closer, examining the top.
“Yup,” you mutter.
“You’ve got it all, sweetheart, why so glum?”
You want to roll your eyes. It’s a coffee machine. It’s all just things. A necklace, a ring, a house. There is no life in it, no spirit, they are just items without meaning, some don’t even have a purpose. Vases without flowers and candlesticks without flames.
“I’m tired,” you say. It’s not a lie, you’re damn exhausted. You can’t remember the last night you slept without waking to the screams of your ex reverberating in your ears. “How are you doing, jetlag hitting you?”
“Not really, it’s an hour difference, hun,” she takes a sip and makes a face, “oh, bitter.”
She gives you a long look as if she isn’t just commenting on the drink. You reach for her mug as she sets it down and you carry it to the sink to dump it out.
“You’ll have to try. I can’t seem to work it,” you admit defeat.
“Oh, dear, you know I’m just very particular about my coffee,” she comes around, approaching the machine. “It’s all about the balance.”
She opens the top and empties the grounds. You stand back and lean on the counter. You sense the air shift and from the corner of your sight, you see Clark enter. You try not to show your discomfort.
“Smells like coffee,” he hums.
“Ah, well, hate to disappoint, it’s not done yet,” your mother tosses over her shoulder, “what do you take? Mocha? Latte?”
“Dark roast is fine,” he affirms as he nears and sets his hand on your shoulder. He leans in to kiss your cheek, his fingers playing with the high collar of your turtleneck, alluding to what you’re hiding beneath. He trails his hand down your arm and takes your hand, raising it only to stop short. “Where’s your ring?”
“Oh, uh, I… put it back in the box. I didn’t want to lose it–”
“In the box,” your mother says, “you should wear it proudly.”
“Um, yeah, I just thought… we’re not going anywhere.”
Clark clicks his tongue and lets you go. He inhales deeply and tucks his hands in his pockets, “does that matter? If we’re going anywhere? It’s not about showing off.”
“He’s right,” your mother agrees.
You hold back a sigh. “I didn’t mean…”
“She’s always been a bit forgetful,” your mother intones, “ah, if I found such a dashing guy, you know I’d wear a ring like that to bed even.”
“I’ll go get it,” you say.
Clark stares at you, gaze boring into you as his nostrils flare. Your mother continues to finagle the machine as you sidle away. He mouths to you, ‘hurry up’.
You bow your head and scurry out. As you reach the door, you peek back at your mother. Clark turns to watch her. There’s something sinister about how he keeps one hand on his belt, as if he’s hiding something there. You don’t hesitate any longer.
You’re almost in a full run by the time you reach the stairs. You puff up onto the landing and down the hall. You go to the vanity, still askew from the night before. You find the velvet box and wiggle the ring free.
You stop and turn it between your fingers. It feels heavier than it should. As you slide it on, it’s like a vice around you, locking you in this place forever. You shudder and you glance at yourself in the mirror.
There she is, the woman he wants. She’s not you, she just wears your face, she was born from your fear. You drop your hands and push your shoulders straight, marching out as if to the executioner.
As you reach the first floor, you hear your mother trilling. You enter the kitchen to the sight of her presenting Clark with a mug. He peers inside and gives a half-smirk.
“I was a barista in college,” she boasts, “not like my little Tweety,” she winks at you as you enter, “she worked at a pizza joint. Oh, you should’ve seen her. All that grease made her so pimply! She smelled like pepperoni.”
“Ha,” you force a laugh, “yeah, not my finest era.”
“Oh, but look at her now,” she preens, “so elegant. She’s caught herself a gentleman.”
Clark gives a bashful chuckle. She touches his arm, her thumb rubbing his sleeve.
“Take care of her for me,” she says, the allusion to the dead bites you, “better than the last one.”
“Always,” Clark turns his head to face you, “all I ever wanted was to prize her. To treat her well. Better than anyone could.”
266 notes · View notes
Note
mob!bucky being submissive that is all
Fix My Shoes
Tumblr media
Pairing || Mob!Bucky x Wife!Reader
Word Count || Around 250
Contents & Warnings || Implied Smut — 18+ Only, Minors DNI, explicit content/language, pet names (babe, doll, princess), slight sub!bucky, implied oral (f receiving).
Authors Note || Hmm ok I loved the little thot I posted about Bucky being a subby little bitch for his princess but idk how subby this piece actually is because I’m not used to writing sub!bucky. But this is the first thing that popped in my head. I still think it’s fucking HOT! This was quickly written and not proofread, but I hope people enjoy regardless :D
Mob!Bucky Masterlist
Tumblr media
You and your husband were getting ready to go out to dinner with some friends. You each stood on your designated His & Hers side of the vast walk-in closet, dressing up in luxurious clothes and accessories.
You opted for a little black dress with expensive jewellery and cute black heels. You slid into the shoes, and it seemed such work to bend down and do them up, but you knew someone who would be more than happy to help.
“Babe.”
“Yes, doll.”
He turned around at the sound of your voice as he fixed his collar on the white shirt.
“Fix my shoes?” You held up your leg elegantly as you batted your eyelashes at him.
“Anything for you, princess.”
He smirked as he got down on one knee before you, caressing your calves. The touch made you shiver, and an inaudible moan escaped. He left delicate kisses on your exposed thigh, making your stomach soar with tingling butterflies, as he did up one shoe and then switched sides to do the other.
You ran your hand through his short hair while he fixed your shoes. With each kiss to your tender skin, your core pulsated, wanting those kisses as well.
“Anything else princess wants?” He asked once he finished.
“Hmm, there is one more thing,” with your hand at the back of his head, you guided him towards your core, wanting to exploit more of his kind and generous nature, “if there’s time.”
“I always have time to please my princess.”
Tumblr media
Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!
If people want to send some more thots please feel free to do so 👀 Maybe some of them will inspire me to write or include them in a longer fic! If not I will write something very short and quick or give you my opinion on the topic 🖤
4K notes · View notes
dreamwritesimagines · 26 days
Text
The Eye of the Hurricane [10] - Family Dinner
A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️
Summary: Happy news can make a dinner so much better.
Word Count: 3800
Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, drinking. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
“I’m sorry, did you just say marriage?”
You sipped your coffee before shooting Becca and Sarah a grin, then popped a piece of your croissant in your mouth.
“Mm hm.”
“You’re getting married to-to my—” Becca stammered. “To my brother?”
“Yeah,” you said and looked around. “Do you guys think we should get mimosas?”
“What the fuck?!” Becca exclaimed. “Since when?”
“It’d better be this morning, Y/N,” Sarah said and you shrugged your shoulders.
“Technically around 48 hours ago.”
Becca gawked at you. “Y/N, I’m going to kill you.”
“Listen, I didn’t—” you waved your hands in the air. “I figured you’d want to hear it in person! It’s kind of a big deal, you know?”
“Jesus Christ…”
“Wait, start from the beginning,” Sarah said. “How did that happen?”
“I had a talk with my dad,” you said, biting inside your cheek. “He’s going to choose Ian.”
Sarah frowned while Becca pulled back slightly.
“He made up his mind?”
“Mm hm.”
“You’re sure you can’t convince him?”
You shook your head.
“No,” you said, your stomach doing a tense flip. “I thought I could but…he was very clear. He will not name me his heir, it’s going to be Ian.”
“That will mess everything up,” Becca said. “Including the truce, because—”
“Bucky won’t do business with him, neither will Sam or Steve,” you finished her sentence for her. “I told my father that but it didn’t even make him think twice.”
“Great,” Sarah muttered, and you shook your head.
“It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” you said. “I’m done waiting around for him to give me a chance. If he doesn’t want to give me power, I’ll take it for myself.”
“And that’s where Bucky enters the picture?”
“Exactly,” you said. “He will give me a way in, and once everything is in place I’ll take over.”
“Before Ian can?”
You nodded your head. “I’ll force my dad’s hand if I have to.”
“He’s not going to like it,” Becca sang in a teasing manner and you scoffed.
“It’s either that or we risk another war between the families,” you said. “To be honest with you, I don’t really care whether he likes it or not anymore. I’m the firstborn and it’s my right, he promised it to me all those years ago.”
“What happens when you take over though?” Sarah asked. “You and Bucky…?”
“We’ll get a divorce.”
Becca arched a brow and suppressed a smile. “Just like that?”
“Yeah, why not?” you said. “He doesn’t want to stay married to me a minute longer than it’s necessary, and I share the sentiment.”
Becca exchanged a knowing glance with Sarah, her smile widening before she turned to you.
“If you say so,” she muttered, taking a sip of her coffee and as if on cue, your phone started vibrating on the table. You checked the name on the screen, then answered it.
“Yeah?”
“Hi there, fiancée.”
You could already tell he was smiling from the tone of his voice and you rolled your eyes, then motioned at Becca and Sarah to give you a moment before getting up from your seat to walk out of the restaurant.
“What do you want?” you asked and he tsk tsked.
“Babe…”
“Don’t call me that.”
“My beautiful wife?”
“Don’t call me that either.”
“Mrs. Barnes?”
“There’s going to be another last name there as well, don’t forget about that one,” you said. “It’s hyphenated.”
“Yeah, for some reason…” he grumbled and you heaved a sigh.
“Is there a point to this conversation? Because if there isn’t, I’m going to hang up now.”
“Yeah,” he said. “There is actually. Before tonight’s dinner, I just figured you’d want to know that your father knows.”
Your eyes widened. “You told him about the engagement?”
“What? No!” he said quickly. “But he knows we’re together.”
“Except we’re not.”
“Well fine, he knows we’ve been spending time in the honeymoon suit.”
You leaned back to the wall and pinched the bridge of your nose before clearing your throat.
“He called you?”
“Not yet but my parents did.”
“That sounds like a fun conversation,” you said, smiling slightly. “What did they say?”
Bucky chuckled.
“My mom just asked how you were,” he said. “That’s her being subtle. And my dad told me to not fuck it up so, went as expected. Arthur didn’t call you?”
“He did, I just didn’t answer,” you said, pursing your lips together. “I don’t want to talk to him yet, so…”
“But are you going to be okay tonight?” he asked and you pulled your brows together.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Can I not ask about your wellbeing?”
“No,” your reply came way too fast. “That’s not on the prenup.”
“Jesus Christ…” he muttered and you checked your watch, then pushed yourself off the wall.
“So you’re going to the restaurant before me then?”
“Yeah, I think it’d be better if I got on your father’s good side before that conversation,” he said. “Considering I didn’t even give him a heads up—unless you want to go together?”
You scrunched up your nose. “Absolutely not,” you said. “Playing the dumbass in love will be even more difficult if I spend more than an hour with you.”
“I think you like spending time with me,” he said with a teasing tone and you scoffed.
“I’m hanging up now,” you said. “Don’t be late tonight.”
“Of course, wife.”
“Stop calling me that!” you snapped and hung up, then let out a breath.
“I can’t believe I’m marrying this asshole…” you murmured to yourself, then made your way back into the restaurant.
                                                 *
Tonight’s dinner was not going to be very easy to handle, you could already tell. Becca had always been too good at reading your mood, so as soon as you two stepped out of the car, she reached out to hold your hand, making you turn your head.
“It’ll be fine,” she said before you could even say anything and you licked your lips.
“It makes it official,” you muttered. “All of it.”
Becca paused for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders.
“What does it matter?” she asked. “If you’re going to get a divorce eventually…”
“Of course we will,” you said. “But it’s not just that, you know? Starting tonight, I’m going against everything my dad wants.”
Becca nodded her head.
“You are,” she said airily. “But if he didn’t want you to take over eventually, he shouldn’t have raised you as his heir to begin with. That shit is not a game, he can’t just change his mind.”
You pursed your lips together, keeping your eyes on the restaurant.
“People won’t be happy about it,” you muttered. “Me being an actual rival, or taking over.”
 “You’re the firstborn,” she reminded you. “It’s your right. And that’s what you want, so fuck what everyone else will think. You’re going to do amazing.”
You stole a look at him, fear churning your insides.
“You think so?” you rasped out, desperate to hear it out loud and Becca nodded fervently.
“I wouldn’t be here if I thought you couldn’t pull it off,” she said. “You’re going to be much better than your father. Trust me.”
You squeezed her hand. “Thanks Becca.”
“Keep in mind how helpful I am when you’re picking your bridesmaid gown colors,” she said, making you let out a laugh. “Friendly reminder, I don’t like lilac.”
“I know, I know…” you told her, throwing an arm over her shoulder to press a kiss on her cheek, then you both walked into the restaurant.
As usual, either your father or Bucky’s father had it closed down for the night so that you all could enjoy your dinner without any strangers around. The hostess greeted you and led you to your usual table which was already occupied by Bucky’s family and yours. Your father stood up as soon as he saw you and made his way to you.
“Good luck,” Becca muttered and smiled at him. “Hi Arthur!”
“Becca my dear, welcome!” your father said as she kissed his cheek.
“I’m starving already,” she said and went to sit down while your father turned to you.
“So?” he said. “You cannot pick up the phone, Y/N?”
You shrugged your shoulders. “I was busy.”
“Really?” he asked. “Too busy to send a text?”
You shrugged your shoulders again, pursing your lips together and he heaved a sigh.
“Sweetheart…” he said. “I don’t like this, you know that. I understand that we can have our disagreements but moving out of the house?”
“I didn’t move out of the house,” you said. “My stuff is still there.”
“But you’re not staying there?”
“I felt like a change of scenery.”
“Is that all?” he asked and you cleared your throat.
“Sort of.”
“Because what I’ve been hearing…” he said. “Not to mention, both you and Bucky planning this dinner?”
“I think we should wait for him to have this conversation—where is he anyway?” you asked, looking around the restaurant and your father frowned slightly.
“We thought you two were coming together.”
“He’s late?” you asked, nervousness shooting through you and your father waved a hand in the air.
“There’s a reason for that I’m sure,” he said. “Come on, sit down. We started already.”
“Great,” you muttered to yourself and followed him to the table and waved at Bucky’s parents Winnifred and George.
“Y/N, hello!” Winnifred stood up to hug you and you hugged her back before pulling back to wave at George.
“We were going to wait for you but you know how your father is,” Winnifred said and your father chuckled, gesturing surrender.
“I don’t mind,” you said, sitting down next to Becca as you nodded in Ian’s direction. “Ian.”
“Y/N.”
“So, what is this dinner about?” George asked and Winnifred shot him a look.
“George.”
“What? I’m curious. You would think this is a life-and-death situation the way Bucky talked about it.”
“I think we should uh…we should wait for him for that one,” you said and turned to the waiter who filled your glass.
“The chef is preparing your usual, ma'am."
“Thank you,” you said and sat up straighter while George smiled at Becca.
“Do you know what this is about?”
“Of course,” Becca said with a smile. “But I’m special.”
“Will this dinner take long?” Ian asked you, checking his phone. “I have plans for 10.”
“You’re welcome to leave,” you told him but before he could retort, Becca waved at someone by the entrance and you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky walk into the restaurant. You cleared your throat, then pushed your seat back.
“Excuse me for a moment,” you said and made your way to him.
“Charm, hey—”
“With me,” you said without even stopping and he turned around to follow you out of the restaurant, and you whirled around on your heels the moment you stepped outside, raising your brows at him.
“Are you serious right now?” you asked. “You were supposed to be here before me, that was the plan!”
“Okay, I know I’m late but in my defense—”
“No no, you said—”
“Job got in the way, I didn’t even get the chance to change,” he cut you off and raised his wrist so that you could see the sleeve of his white shirt. “I still have blood on my sleeve, look!”
“Do I look like your drycleaner from where you’re standing?” you snapped back in a whisper. “You said you’d come before me, and considering your relationships I’d say you’re used to that!”
He rolled his eyes. “To repeat, job got in the way.”
“You’re late to dinner because you were too busy punching someone and that’s a good excuse?”
“It was necessary!”
“It was necessary for it to be you punching that person, is that right?”
“Excuse me, lovebirds,” Becca’s voice reached you and you both turned to look at her as she leaned sideways to the entrance. “Have your fight later on, they’re getting restless.”
You ran a hand over your face.
“Alright,” you said. “So okay, when are we telling them?”
“My plate is already there and I’d rather if you did it right away,” Becca said, pointing back with her thumb. “They don’t look like they’ll stop asking what this dinner is about anytime soon.”
“You just don’t want mom to ask you about Leila,” Bucky told her and Becca shrugged her shoulders.
“I mean would it kill you to do something nice for me?” she asked, making him shake his head slightly. You bit back a smile and threw your shoulders back, trying to get rid of the tension in your body.
“Let’s get this over with,” you muttered more to yourself and made your way back to the table with Becca and Bucky following you.
“Good evening,” Bucky greeted everyone at the table with a smile. “Sorry I was late, it’s just…work.”
Becca went to sit down on her seat as you eyed your food, but stood beside Bucky, clenching and unclenching your fist just so that you could focus on something else other than the nervousness pulsing in your veins.
“Is everything alright?” Winnifred asked Bucky and he nodded his head.
“Oh yeah, two meetings clashed,” he lied, subtly rolling the sleeve of his shirt up. “There was a moment of chaos but it’s fixed.”
“So can we learn what this whole secrecy and emergency dinner is about now?” George said with a knowing smile and you stole a look at your father who looked almost impatient. Knowing them, every single person at the table except Becca thought Bucky and you were about to tell them you were dating, so you were sure that the news was going to be completely unexpected for all of them.
“Yeah,” you said, reminding yourself to smile as you leaned sideways to Bucky’s arm. “You can. Sorry about the secrecy, we just wanted it to be a surprise.”
Ian scoffed a small laugh.
“You staying in a hotel in his territory might have ruined that surprise,” he said and Bucky’s eyes narrowed but you elbowed him while your father gave Ian a warning glare, making him sit up straighter.
“So uh, it happened very recently,” you said, ignoring Ian. “And normally you would have heard beforehand.”
“For which I take full responsibility,” Bucky added with a smirk. “That’s on me.”
“I mean you know we’ve had this…strange dynamic for a while.”
“Ten years,” Becca muttered into her wine glass. “Not that anyone is counting.”
“But once we actually talked to each other, something happened,” you lied through your teeth, Bucky’s arm snaking around your waist as he nuzzled to the top of your head, making your heart skip a beat but you forced yourself to remember that it was all an act. Winnifred pressed a hand on her chest as if she was lost in her emotions while your father and George exchanged glances, both smiling slightly.
“And I hope that you’ll be happy for us,” you said and waited for a second, then cleared your throat. “Because we’re getting married.”
The impact of your words was immediate and very visible. Ian’s head shot up as Winnifred gasped in shock and your father’s eyes widened while George’s jaw dropped. Becca stifled a laugh, taking another sip of her wine as she leaned back in her seat.
“Married?!” Winnifred exclaimed as she jumped on her feet. “Oh thank God, this is the best news I could ever hope for!”
“Trust me mom, I was as surprised as you are,” Bucky said with a chuckle while Winnifred pulled you into a tight hug and your father tried to pull himself together.
“Married?” he repeated and you nodded when Winnifred pulled back to hug Bucky.
“Yeah.”
“That’s…uh—” your father stammered. “That’s wonderful news honey but you two have been dating for what? Two days?”
“Three days,” you said helpfully and Bucky hissed in a breath.
“I was going to get your permission, Arthur.”
“Why didn’t you?” your father asked him, looking him in the eye but Bucky didn’t look intimidated in the slightest.
“Oh come on Arthur, don’t be so traditional!” George said with a laugh. “They’re in love, and it’s not like they met three days ago. They’ve known each other their whole lives, I for one have been hoping for this to happen for almost ten years!”
“And we already know we want to spend the rest of our lives together.”
“Speaking of, where’s the ring?” Winnifred asked, making you and Bucky exchange glances before you turned to her.
Shit.
Of course he was supposed to have proposed with a ring.
“The ring!” you said. “Right, uh…Bucky?”
Bucky swallowed thickly and waved a hand in the air.
“The ring, that’s—that’s a funny story actually,” he said. “You see, we um—”
“My overly confident brother didn’t bother asking the best friend,” Becca cut him off airily, pointing at herself. “Surprise surprise; it was the wrong size. We went to the jewelers today to get it fixed, they said it’ll be ready within the week.”
Dear God, you loved Becca.
You subtly mouthed ‘thank you’ to her while George stood up to come closer to you.
“Congratulations son,” he said as he pulled him into a hug to slap him on the back. “You sure took your time. And Y/N, welcome to the family sweetheart.”
“Congratulations,” Ian said from where he was sitting and your father sighed, then stood up to hug you.
“We still need to talk about this,” he said. “But I’m very happy for you two.”
“Thanks dad,” you muttered as the waiters brought your food and you all sat down. You took your fork into your hand and George raised his glass.
“To happy couple!”
You and Bucky raised your glasses as well and your father took a sip of his drink, then leaned back in his seat.
“See, Y/N,” he said. “I know you’re still a bit angry at me but I told you. This right here will make you much happier than what we talked about earlier. That’s what matters.”
You arched a brow as Bucky turned to look at you better with a smirk and you stole a glance at him, a sly smile curling your lips as well.
Oh.
Of course your father naively believed that something as trivial as marriage could keep you from what you wanted. It was almost condescending at this point but you managed to hold back the retort, then clicked your tongue.
“Oh yeah,” you said, making Bucky chuckle. “I have a very clear idea of what’s actually important now, and I’ll make sure everyone else sees that as well.”
                                        *
When it was time to leave the restaurant, everyone was in a wonderful mood. Winnifred had so many ideas about the wedding, and as far as you could tell, your father had gotten over the annoyance of Bucky not having asked for his permission.
“So, are you coming home?” he asked you as George and Winnifred’s car drove off and you looked at Bucky who was talking to Becca by her car.
“Maybe later,” you said with a shake of your head. “Me and Bucky have things to talk about, so…”
Your father hummed.
“Alright,” he said. “What do you say we grab lunch tomorrow then?”
You thought for a moment, then shifted your weight.
“Sure, why not?”
“Good,” he said and hugged you. “You know I don’t like it when we fight.”
You pursed your lips together. “I know, I know...”
“I’ll see you tomorrow honey, please be careful,” he said and got in the car while Ian seemed to be in a deep discussion with Ryan. Ryan’s gaze found you over Ian’s shoulder and you offered him a small smile, then turned your head when you heard Becca say your name.
“Y/N are we meeting tomorrow?”
“Yeah after lunch,” you answered. “I’ve just promised my dad I’d have lunch with him, so…”
She nodded. “Okay, I’ll text you then?”
“Sounds great!” you said as she got into her car and the driver closed her door before getting into the driver’s seat. You looked into your purse, then let out a groan when you couldn’t find your phone.
“Great,” you muttered and made your way into the restaurant, the waiter stopping in his tracks the moment he saw you.
“Ma’am?”
“Hi again, I left my phone at the table,” you told him with a small laugh and he nodded.
“I’ll get it for you right away,” he said and went inside, then in a minute he was back with your phone. “Here.”
“Thank you so much,” you said. “Have a nice night!”
“You too ma’am,” he said and you left the restaurant again, then frowned as soon as you saw Ian talking to Bucky by his car while Ryan waited with Ian’s other bodyguards close by. You took a step towards them but neither of them seemed to notice you, and judging by the stern look in Bucky’s eyes, it wasn’t because they were having a fun conversation.
“…And that’s what she wants in case she didn’t tell you,” Ian said and Bucky narrowed his eyes at him.
“I know that.”
Ian shook his head slightly. “Don’t get me wrong, but—”
“Let me stop you right there Ian,” Bucky said, glaring daggers at him. “You’re not going to say anything that I might get wrong about the woman I love.”
Your stomach did a happy flip but you quickly frowned at yourself. It was just Bucky selling this whole idea that you were in love; it wasn’t as if you and he could ever fall in love or anything.
Even the thought of it was absolutely absurd.
You cleared your throat to announce you were there and they both turned to look at you.
“Hey babe,” Bucky said. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” you said without even sparing a glance at Ian as the driver opened the car door for you and you got in with Bucky following you suit. You massaged your temples, then leaned your head back when the driver started the car.
“You okay?” Bucky asked and you gritted your teeth, crossing your arms over your chest.
“The way my dad talks to me…” you muttered and Bucky scoffed a dry laugh.
“I know,” he said. “Trust me, I get it.”
“I don’t think you do,” you rasped out. “George never underestimated you or replaced you with another heir.”
That made him pause for a moment, a dark shadow crossing his eyes before he took a deep breath.
“No worries Charm,” he said. “He won’t get to underestimate you again once you get that crown.”
You felt a small smile curl your lips as you turned your gaze to the city lights outside, then heaved a sigh.
“Yeah,” you murmured. “I like the sound of that.”
Chapter 11
336 notes · View notes