My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Tony Stark
Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
Another thankless day of serving cold cuts and cheese to the general public as you ready to tear your hair out. You don’t see how anyone could make such a fuss about a trip to the deli but the locals have a way of exacerbating any simplicity. You’re just happy to be free.
The bus is late. You stand at the curb and bounce on your heels. You just want to lay down. The lack of sleep is starting to split your skull.
You yawn and watch a truck blow by. It’s a sleepy old town, nestled between farmland and stretches of dirty roads. The sort of backwoods you don’t drive through after dark. It’s so dull you could fall asleep on your feet.
A sudden gust of air rips through the sky and the unusual whirlwind circles you. You look up through slitted eyes as dirty speckles across your face. You furrow your brow as lights and flames glow as a red figure lands in front of you.
The electric blue haze goes out and your faced with the suit of crimson and gold. You grip your purse strap and gulp. You haven’t checked your phone yet. You couldn’t have predicted this.
“Shit.” You mutter.
His helmet snaps back and he smirks. The silver streaks in his dark hair puff out and he smooths them down. He puts his hand on his hip and scoffs, “name’s Tony Stark, thanks.”
You cringe and cross your arms. “We met.”
“Yeah, I remember you. Nearly forgot before everything blew up. You know, this thing...” he pauses to take his phone out. “Hasn’t shut up all fucking day. I got lawyers down my throat--”
“Your phone is blowing up? My house blew up.” You sneer.
“Okay, relax. It was a trailer. I said I’d replace it--”
“Then do it.”
“Ooh, spicy. I didn’t guess you to be the type but after seeing your little online storytelling, I shoulda guessed.”
“It’s the truth. That’s it.” You turn to watch for the bus. You’re aware of the few people slowing to stare at the man in his techno-suit.
“I mean, a little gratitude here, honey. I’m more than happy to slap a new box in the lot but you don’t gotta be this way about it.” He derides. You look at him from the corner of your eyes and scowl. “At least a smile. Bet you’re gorgeous when you smile.”
He winks and you flinch. Really?
“Fine. Once we have a new trailer, I’ll delete the post. Sounds pretty fair to me.”
“Now. Take it down now and then we can go shopping for a new train car,” he chirps.
You frown and face him. “It’s just a post.”
“I got a reputation, sweetheart. I’m important that way. I know you might not be able to fathom that but one busted up hellhole is nothing compared to what I do for this planet. Didn’t you see me on the TV, handing out lollipops to hurricane survivors? What are you doing besides whine on the internet?” He stares you down, his expression turning sinister as his grin fades.
“If it’s not a big deal, then it shouldn’t take much, should it?” You challenge.
“Wow, you sure are mouthy, aren’t you?”
“I’m tired.” You peer down the street again. “I worked a full shift and my feet hurt. You wouldn’t know about that, would you? With your penthouse and your dad’s money.”
“I earned my company.” He snarls. “You watch where you’re stepping, sweetheart. I’m being nice. I flew all the way back to this ditch, so let’s not play dirty.”
Your heart races. You don’t know why you’ve said so much. Maybe because you’ve worn a customer service smile all day and you’re all out of fucks to give?
And what do you have left to lose? A family that treats you like a gnat flying around their heads and a musty old futon. Your life wasn’t great before but damn if he didn’t make it a whole lot worse.
“You do whatever. You’re Tony Stark. Iron Man.” Your tone is deflated and monotone. “I can’t do anything about it, can I? Just whine on the internet?”
You step further down the sidewalk and stare at the approaching headlights. The bus is finally there. Even if he really means to replace the dusty old shithole, you don’t need his self-aggrandized kindness. Not if this is how it’s delivered.
You pull out your bus fare as you sway beneath the sign. A sharp noise tweaks your ear and you’re seized in a metal vice. Your arms are trapped against your sides as Tony zooms up into the sky, the air whipping around your face as you holler in horror.
“What-- are—you—doing?” You shriek as you wriggle, kicking into the empty void around you.
“Sweetheart,” his voice rises from behind his helmet. “You’re gonna wanna be still. If I drop you, you’re gonna hit the ground like a bug on a windshield.”
“What the fuck?” You exclaim and squeeze your eyes shut.
“Just givin’ you a lift home. Like a nice guy would do.” He chuckles. “Now don’t breathe too heavy up here. At this altitude... well...”
You put your head down, shielding it against the shoulder plate of his suit, and you bend your arms to cling to him. You have no other choice but to hold on for dear life.
You get his point. Tony Stark is more than money. He can do whatever the hell he wants.
Warnings: this drabble includes elements which may be dark. Please mind these warnings and take care.
Explicit, 18+. Please reblog and leave some feedback.
A day off is exactly what you need. Still, your internal clock doesn’t register the break. You wake up at the same time, make your coffee, and contemplate the meaning of life. When the single-serve finishes its churning, you claim your mug and yawn over the brim, blowing away the wisp of steam.
You cross your apartment, the air stuffy with the damp spring evening melding into the warmth of the rising sun. You go to the balcony door and watch the haze of orange behind the cityscape as the dark blue ripples to shades of cerulean. As you let yourself out onto the narrow balcony, you find your way impeded.
Your coffee splashes over the top of the cup and splats onto the figure slumped across the concrete. You sigh and take a sip. The man always shows up when you’re in dire need of caffeine. You look down at him, perplexed at what to do next. He’s too big for you to move on your own and you have the humanity to wonder why he’s passed out.
“Ughhhhhhh,” the catlike intruder groans as he rolls onto his back and you flinch, nearly spilling more upon him.
“Hi,” you peer down dumbly.
His blue eyes flit side to side then angle to the glimpse of the sky beneath the next floor’s balcony. He lets out a deep breath as his brows furrow and ripples line his forehead, “morning.”
Is he saying good morning or is he stating the time? For as little as he’s ever said to you, you’re not certain. You sniff and let it out in a heave.
“Are you hurt?” You ask, giving in.
“I am wounded,” he answers and grits his teeth.
You nod. That doesn’t really help either of you.
“Can you move?”
He grimaces and plants his hands beside him. He pushes himself up with a growl and leans heavily forward. He’s panting from the effort. Shoot.
“Yes,” he puffs.
“Got it,” you cluck.
You back up and reach to set your mug on the ledge that stands under the rows of windows looking out over the balcony. You keep the door open with your foot and come back out. He hugs his stomach as he rubs his bruised temple.
“Do you need help?”
He shakes his head and shifts, reaching for the railing. He hauls himself up with a suppressed grunt and hunches before he can stand straight. His eyes meet yours as he faces you, dragging his foot as he limps forward.
“Concussion, bruised ribs,” he hobbles closer, “foot might be fractured.”
His diagnosis is cool and detached. As if it isn’t his own body. You step back out of the way and he enters the dark apartment. Only the kitchen light and the slowly blooming sunrise glow in the space. He staggers onward and you claim your mug. You’ll wait until you see the bottom to figure this out.
As he falls onto your couch, you go into the kitchen. He sits with his head tilted back and takes straggling breaths through his nose. You take out a second mug, a pod, and tap the brew button. You languish in the tension as you wait for the long grind.
You continue to nurse your own coffee as you bring his out and place it on the square table beside the armrest. He rumbles as he opens his eyes. His pupils are dark pits.
“Thank you,” he mutters.
“Mm,” you push your tip against your teeth, “you know, I’m not too good with blood so...”
“Coffee’s fine,” he sits forward and stymies another groan. He grabs the mug and drinks, sighing in relief. “You got a bed sheet I can ruin?”
You consider him. This is strange. You’ve just accepted that he’s going to come and crash on your couch and there’s nothing you can do about it. Why? It’s probably that knife. He hasn’t hurt you and you don’t want that to change.
“Sure,” you agree with a shrug.
He takes another sip and brings his other hand up to feel the heat through the porcelain. He focuses on the mug and you back up. He isn’t even asking you to help, you just assumed. As you go to grab an old sheet out of the linen chest, you can’t help but wonder what happened to him. You don’t think he’ll be any more chatty about that than anything else.
The Cat Distribution System never fails! She no longer really reacts to him, he's just an accepted part of her life and I love it!
He's injured, limited in his capacity to hurt her, but she's still not calling the cops or anything! This is prime time to get him out but she's just "let me finish my coffee".
She doesn't even seem like she's thinking about moving away! I can't imagine how God would react if she even tried to do that.
WOW, what a way to start my day. Never thought I would reach this many followers. Thank you every one of you who likes my blog whether it is my reading lists or my writing. This is beyond words for me 🥹🥹
Good news to those who read my work, “Mine” Part 4 is being written as we speak. So hopefully in a few weeks I will get it out to all of you.
I wanna thank some of my biggest supporters on here. If I forgot anyone it’s cause I have mush brain today from my allergies
Summary: Will feels betrayed by someone he thought was his ally.
Word Count: Over 1k
Warnings: Fluff, humor, established relationship, talk of threats and interrogation, slight feels (it's me, okay?), William Miller (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Inspired by this post @ghotifishreads tagged me in. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Will counted the seconds in his mind as he stared his adversary down. Someone he should've considered an ally. Maybe even a friend. But now? He didn't recognize the beast in front of him.
He was used to people playing dirty behind enemy lines, but this? Betrayal in familiar territory? The sting was like a bullet to the gut.
“Before you test my resolve, I want you to know that I have forty three confirmed kills.”
A huff was the only reply he got.
Crouching down so he was at eye level, he huffed, too. His enemy was much smaller in size, but looks could be deceiving. “Now, I’m not going to hurt you. It wouldn't do either of us any good,” he said, tapping a finger against his thigh. “I just want to know why.”
He didn't get an answer. Only a defiant stare. The silent treatment. That was fine. Nothing he hadn't faced before. He had ways to make enemies talk if it came to that. And the puppy dog eyes wouldn't garner sympathy from him.
Battle had hardened him too much for that.
Shut down. Control. Manipulate. That’s what he did with his human instincts until he completed his mission.
Will continued the staring contest until the smaller one whined. It wasn't an answer, but it was a start. “You made this personal, you know. And I’ll throw you out in the rain if you push your luck,” he threatened, tilting his head to maintain eye contact. “No. You don't get to look away. Not after what you did. After I took you into my home.”
And how did he repay him?
“Honey?”
Your voice pulled Will’s attention away from the task at hand. “Yeah, baby?”
You leaned against the doorway, a smile tugging at your kissable lips. “Are you interrogating Bandit?”
Bandit, the puppy Benny got weeks ago. The puppy you offered to watch since his brother was going out of town for a few days and he didn't want to board him. The same little rascal who chewed up a pair of tennis shoes. New tennis shoes.
And hadn't touched a single one of his chew toys.
Will nodded to his ruined shoes. “You saw what he did.”
“I did and I'm sorry,” you said, though you had no reason to apologize. It wasn't like you chewed them up. “He’s a puppy and they’re going to do those kinds of things from time to time. Is it really worthy of an interrogation?”
“Yes, it is.” Bandit swung his head toward you and whimpered. “No, don’t you-”
“Aww. Is the former Captain bothering you?” You walked over and scooped him into your arms. The light golden puppy snuggled close, but looked at Will like he was taunting him. You had a soft spot for dogs and Bandit sensed that. Used it to his advantage.
“Taking his side?”
“I’m always on your side, Will,” you said, softening his resolve. “Now, Bandit, you know you aren't supposed to do that. Play with your toys, not shoes. Okay?”
Bandit barked. He actually barked for you. How did you do that?
“And apologize to Will,” you urged.
He barked again.
“Good boy,” you smiled as Will stood up and crossed his arms. “And don't worry, we won't throw you out in the rain.”
“I still might just to teach him a lesson,” Will half teased. “Or I can just put him in his cage.”
Bandit whined and hid his face. “Don’t you dare. He’s a puppy, not a soldier. And you were happy with watching him until now. Besides, he said he was sorry,” you said, giving Will your own set of puppy dog eyes.
You had a point. Bandit was a pretty well-behaved puppy, all things considered. He didn't bite. Didn't make a mess when he ate. Went to the door when he had to go outside. And he seemed content to sleep in his dog bed and didn't demand to sleep with the two of you.
“Fine. No cage,” he relented.
“Thank you. And I’m sure Benny will buy you a new pair of shoes once he gets back,” you added.
“Maybe,” he said. He wouldn't hold his breath to get new shoes or money for the damage done. He may be Benny’s big brother, but Benny adored his puppy and would likely blame him for leaving them out in the first place. He had a routine though. He put his shoes in the same spot after he exercised.
To be fair, he should've been more careful. He would be in the future. If anything, he could try to see the positive side of things and use this as a learning experience. That's what you tried to do when you ran into unfortunate situations.
“Is it a bad time to suggest we get our own puppy?” You asked, smiling as you lifted Bandit up higher and put his cheek against yours. “Chewed up shoes and a scratched up couch aside, it might be nice.”
Dogs did make for great companions. He’d be lying if he said he hadn't pictured the two of you having a kid and a dog for them to grow up with. Someone who would be a friend to and watch over his child.
“What do you think?” You smiled when he stayed quiet for too long.
He softly smiled. Most people couldn't sway him to do anything, but you had a way about you. Maybe it was because he loved you. “I’ll think about it.”
You put Bandit down before you leaned in and brushed your lips against Will’s. “Thank you.”
He went in for another kiss, but stopped when the words fully registered. “Wait.” He narrowed his eyes. “Did you say scratched up couch?”
“...Did I say that? I don't recall.”
“I remember everything you’ve ever said to me,” he told you.
You put a hand over your heart. “That is so romantic.”
“And you said ‘chewed up shoes and a scratched up couch aside, it might be nice’, so what exactly did he do to our couch?”
Your eyes widened as you took a step back. “Run, Bandit!”
And he did.
I couldn't help myself. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Part 3 | Series Masterlist | Part 5
Chapter Summary: You try to continue the date like "normal" after Bucky's promise.
Chapter Word Count: Almost 3.4k
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, unease, tension, possessiveness, mental and emotional whiplash, reader is trying to stay calm, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you again for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . I no longer do taglists, so please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
“You’ll be out of your apartment before the end of the month.”
The statement played on a morbid loop in your mind as Bucky pulled you up from your chair. The guard gave you two plenty of room to enter the penthouse again. You looked at him, trying to convey in your expression that you needed him to do something. Anything. The man gave you nothing in return. It was pointless to try. He worked for Bucky, not you. He wouldn't care.
“Did you mean what you just said? Your promise?” You asked as you followed Bucky to the dining room table. You wanted him to take it back, to tell you it was a joke. He couldn't make you leave your home by the end of the month. He had no right.
“I think you know the answer,” he said, pausing when you yanked your hand away and crossed your arms.
“And I think you have a lot of nerve,” you uttered as he pulled out your chair. “Where the hell do you get off? And how do you even plan to get me out of my home? It’s not like you own the building.”
You had no idea how deep Bucky’s pockets ran. There was a chance he could buy the building tomorrow or bribe someone into evicting you. Would he stoop that low?
“I adore you, Kotyonok, but I’m not going to tell you and ruin the surprise,” he smiled, gesturing for you to take a seat. “And you haven't seen me get off yet.”
You ignored his comment as you sat down and stared into the flame of the candlelight. The familiar scent of the meal drifting from the kitchen put you at ease for the most part, but your stomach turned. Would this really be where you'd spend your meals from now on? It didn't matter that the penthouse was beautiful. You had a home. Maybe it wasn't as nice as this, but it was still yours.
Did Bucky care about your distress at all?
You blinked when you saw your wine glass on the table. The guard had grabbed both of your glasses from the balcony. For a man of his size, he sure as hell moved quietly. “Thanks,” you whispered, taking another swig to help calm your flaring nerves.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
“You know, I was so excited to have you in our home I don’t think I introduced the two of you,” Bucky said as the man stood tall. “This is Raymond, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you call him Ray since you’ll be seeing a lot of him.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. Bucky said “our” again. Not “his”. You wanted to go back to bed and hide under your covers. “It’s nice to meet you. Is it okay if I call you Ray?” You asked, not wanting his boss to speak for him.
How and why did he work for him anyway?
His eyes were a brighter shade of blue than Bucky’s, but still had a touch of coldness. Though his expression did soften a fraction as he considered your question. “You may. And it’s nice to meet you, too,” he replied, nodding toward the kitchen before he stepped back.
The chef walked over seconds later with plates in hand, a large smile on his face. “Here we are. We have the…” You tuned him out as the dish was set in front of you, your eyes on Bucky across the table. He didn’t look at the chef either, your gazes locked in a silent battle. Your hand began to ache before you realized you were gripping the handle of your knife. You released it and looked away, but you caught his smirk anyway.
He won.
“Enjoy!” The chef finished, clasping his hands together.
Bucky shot him a look before he could walk away. “I’ll enjoy it once I know she does,” he said, his smile soft as he turned his attention back to you. “Dig in.”
A beat passed and all eyes were on you, waiting for you to have the first taste. It was unsettling to say the least as you blindly grabbed a piece of flatware to take a bite. You slowly chewed the food and wished you could've appreciated the additional flavors the chef added to make your favorite meal that much better, but being under the scrutiny of the entire room took away the delight.
“It’s delicious,” you announced, bringing another piece to your mouth. The chef’s audible sigh made it hard to swallow. What would Bucky have done if you didn’t like the food? “Thank you.”
“Yes, thank you,” Bucky added, still gazing at you like you were the center of his world. “Ray, would you show him out please?”
The chef didn’t have to be told twice as Ray wordlessly led him away.
You didn't miss the way Bucky's eyes followed your motions as you continued to eat. They told you he’d rather have you for the meal. That he’d reach under the table at any moment and part your thighs to gather the taste of you on his fingers. You firmly pulled your legs together.
“Are you not hungry?” You asked. He hadn't touched anything on his plate. Too busy staring at you. Why was he so fascinated with watching you do something as mundane as eating?
“I wanted to make sure you ate enough before I dug in,” he answered, finally taking a bite. He groaned as his eyes slipped shut, the sound making you press your legs even closer together. Being handsome didn't excuse a thing and you refused to let him get to you. “You're right. This is delicious.”
You averted your eyes when he ran his tongue over his lips. “Well, you hired him, so I imagine he's an amazing chef.”
“He is. I’m not a bad cook, but I don’t cook as often as I'd like.”
You nodded. Running a club likely kept him busy, but he could've used his free time cooking or doing something else instead of looking into your life. You ranted about that already though.
“Maybe we can have a day of the week where we make a meal together. We’ll take turns picking different meals to try, like pizza. We’ll have to make a pizza together,” he said, leaning forward as his eyes lit up. “I could even set up a projector on the balcony if you wanted to cuddle outside and watch a movie. Or we could do something indoors.”
“What if I don't want pizza? Or a movie night?” You asked, trying to gauge his reaction since you actually enjoyed pizza and movies.
“If that isn't what you're in the mood for, we can figure it out together,” he offered.
“Can we?” You asked, pushing a bit of the food around with your fork. “Or will you just make the decisions for me?”
You were speaking as if you planned to continue with his delusion. That you would actually have dinner dates and movie nights and cuddle. Things you always wanted with the right partner. The one you chose.
He twirled the knife in his hand before he pointed it at you. “I told you I don’t want to control you.”
“Yet you’re putting me in a cage.”
“You have a lot of freedom,” he retorted, taking another bite. “It’s not like I’m telling you to stop spending time with your friends or not have hobbies. I just want you close by. And about your job-”
Your eyes flashed. “If you’re about to tell me I have to quit, I will throw wine on you.”
“Thought you said it was too delicious to waste.”
“I’ll throw your glass on you and enjoy the rest of mine,” you said, warmth creeping up your neck when he chuckled. “Don’t laugh. I’m serious, Bucky. I’m not going to quit my job. I don’t care how much money you have. I love what I do.”
He laughed still, but held a hand up on surrender. “Kotyonok, I won’t make you quit your job. I know you love being a florist and I’m not about to take something away that makes you happy.”
You reigned your inner claws in. “So, I can keep working like normal? And why are you calling me Kotyonok? What happened to doll?”
“Doll, Kotyonok, you suit them both.” He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, looking every bit like the king of his castle. “And you can.”
“Oh. Well. Thank you,” you said, wishing you didn’t feel the need to thank him when it shouldn’t be his decision to begin with.
The two of you ate in semi-comfortable silence after that. You wanted to trust that he wouldn’t mess with your job, but he was interfering in the rest of your life. Maybe it wasn’t a cage he had you in after all, but he did have you on a leash.
Either way, you were his pet.
“Dance with me,” he stated once your plates were clear.
“There’s no music,” you said before a soft melody began to play in the room. You glanced around and tried to find where the speakers were. Ray must’ve turned it on.
You allowed him to help you up from your seat to hold you close. You bit back a protest when he guided your hands to rest at the base of his neck. There was hardly any room between you as he rested his hands on your hips and helped you sway to the slow beat. It contrasted with how your heart raced and you had to close your eyes to escape his gaze.
“I felt like I’d been asleep for a long time until you came along. You woke me up. Made me feel,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “We’ll be happy together.”
His words had you catching your breath. He wasn’t the kind of predator who went right for the kill or the kind that merely stayed in the grass to bide his time. This was a cat and mouse of sorts. He caught and released you. The scary part was you didn’t know how long he’d hold onto you before he sank his teeth in or how long he’d let you run before he caught you again.
“I really want to kiss you,” he murmured, your heart thudding more as he rested a hand on your cheek.
“Not on the first date,” you said, hoping it sounded more like a tease than a complete refusal.
He chuckled and brought his lips to your ear. “What does our second date get me?”
You didn’t want to say the wrong thing, especially since he was playing along. But how long would you be able to fight off his want for you? “I guess we’ll play it by ear,” you answered.
“Making me work for it. I respect that,” he said, checking his watch as the song changed. “Speaking of being respectful, I should probably get you back to your place.”
As eager as you were to leave, you still asked, “No dessert?”
His heated eyes swept over you as he traced the diamond necklace with his finger. “I want you for dessert, but I’m trying to be good,” he replied, his voice husky as you held your breath. “I also made sure we’d have dessert to share in the car. Why don’t you go get your clutch and we can go?”
“Sure,” you said, taking one last look around the place as you went to get it. Bucky went to Ray and whispered something you couldn’t make out, but you went to the door instead of trying to eavesdrop. You didn’t want to know what the conversation was about. If it didn’t involve you, well, it wasn’t your business to begin with. And if it involved you, you were bound to find out anyway and you were too tired and mentally drained to deal with it.
A bath and more wine wouldn’t even help.
“I hope you like it,” Bucky smiled, holding up a small container as he joined you with Ray right behind him.
“Let me guess,” you said, taking the container from his hand. “It’s my favorite.”
“Of course,” he said, opening the door and putting an arm back around you.
You looked back when Ray didn’t follow you into the elevator, wishing he’d join you so you wouldn’t be alone with Bucky in there. You supposed it didn’t matter. Would he stop his boss if he tried anything or just look the other way?
It was surreal to leave the penthouse. You half expected him to go back on his word and not let you go. You glanced at him as the elevator went back down to the garage. Besides being a walking red flag, he was still a mystery.
“You said your mom would’ve loved me. Past tense,” you said, seeing his jaw clench. “Did something happen to her?”
He tightened his arm around you as the elevator stopped. “She’s gone and that’s a topic for another day,” he said, pausing to give you a tender smile. “But thank you for asking.”
The man had issues, but you hadn’t meant to touch on a sore topic. Why were you asking personal questions about him anyway? You weren’t his girl. He wasn’t going to be your guy. This wasn’t a fairytale. If it was, he would be the villain disguised as a king.
Bucky helped you back into the car, once again not waiting for the driver, and got in beside you. He barely had the door closed before you pulled you into his lap, the container almost falling from your hand as the other went to his chest. “Bucky, what are you-”
“I said you could sit in my lap after dinner,” he smirked, running a hand along your thigh. Your body went rigid as his hand trailed higher. “I won’t do anything except feed you.”
You stayed perfectly still as he moved his hand away and opened the container. He promised he wouldn't force anything tonight, but you didn't want to throw fuel on the fire by shifting and inadvertently teasing him. It would be fine. A short drive and you’d be back at your apartment.
“Open,” he ordered. You obeyed, your mouth opening up for him to place a piece of the dessert on your tongue. He swore under his breath as you closed your mouth to chew and his hand found its way back to your thigh. “Swallow it, Kotyonok.”
You were lucky you didn’t choke, the normally sweet treat sliding bitterly down your throat. He probably imagined saying those exact words to you in a very different sort of scenario. Feeling his hips move slightly beneath yours, he was likely imagining it right this second.
“Good girl,” he sighed, feeding you another piece before he buried his face in your neck. “I can't wait until you're really home.” His breath tickled your skin. “I won't have to say goodnight and watch you walk away. You’ll be beside me and fall asleep in my arms.”
“In your home,” you whispered, tilting your head to give you some space, but he followed.
“Our home,” he corrected you. “End of the month.”
Your chest ached, but you breathed evenly. You were almost home and could panic once you were alone. “It’s too soon. You understand that, right?”
“I went too long without having you by my side. You understand that, right?” He asked, cupping your cheek to make you look at him. “You went too long without me, too.”
It wasn’t fair that he was trying again to prey on your loneliness. “Bucky, you have to give me some leeway here.”
“We can figure it out together,” he said, the same thing he said during dinner. Dismissive. He thought he was going to get his way. And he would, wouldn't he?
“Well, we aren’t figuring that out tonight,” you said, pushing off his lap when the car came to a stop and fixing your dress since it rode up. “Good night.”
He stopped you from getting out. “I have to walk you to your door.”
“I’m not letting you in,” you warned. You needed your space.
“You do remember that I can get in your place without you opening the door for me, right?” He cupped your cheek again when your eyes rounded. “But I won’t do that tonight. I’m just making sure you get in safely.”
“That’s ironic coming from you,” you mumbled.
He chuckled and helped you out. Your building normally looked like a safe haven, but it was like there was a clock overhead counting down the moment until it was no longer yours. “I really do love how sweet you are, but I love your claws when they come out.”
“Careful. I just might scratch you.”
He groaned, leading you inside. “You know, you’re welcome to scratch up my back. Leave your mark on me and I’ll leave one on you.” He winked when you caught his eye. “And in you.”
He caught you when you stumbled. “Stop saying stuff like that, please,” you begged, straightening yourself out. You weren’t sure how much more you could take tonight.
“I can’t help myself,” he said, taking your phone from his pocket once you got to your door. “I had a really nice time tonight.”
His fingers touched yours as you took your phone back. “I had a nice time, too,” you said. Under normal circumstances, a romantic dinner and diamond necklace would’ve been a dream come true. “Good night, Bucky.”
He lingered as you unlocked your door. You turned to remind him that you weren’t inviting him, but you couldn’t speak when he leaned in. His lips brushed the corner of yours, all too gentle and intimate.
“Sweet dreams, Kotyonok.”
You ducked inside without another word and locked the door, listening for his footsteps. It took a moment, but you heard him walk away before you slid to the floor. It felt like you could finally breathe again since you were home and he wasn’t going to bother you again tonight.
Your heart sank though when you checked your phone and saw a message from Addison.
“Change of plans for tomorrow and I’m so sorry, but Brady somehow got us a reservation at The Terrace. Can you believe it?! Maybe we can hang out the day after?”
Tears burned your eyes. You were looking forward to seeing her. It would've been nice to pretend that everything was normal. Or maybe you would've told her at least something about your situation.
Your mind drifted to Bucky. The Terrace was one of the best restaurants around and usually booked a couple of months in advance minimum. Was it a coincidence that Brady somehow got them reservations on the day you were supposed to hang out with Addison or did your new suitor have something to do with it?
Speak of the devil, you received a new message from the man himself.
“Thank you again for the wonderful date. Are you free tomorrow night? I’d love to introduce you to some of my friends.”
Your eyes narrowed. The second you see that your plans are broken, he messages you? If you didn't think he meddled before, you certainly did now.
“I don’t have anything to wear.”
He messaged back seconds later. “Yes, you do. I can have it sent over or have it ready for you here.”
You huffed out a laugh before a couple of tears fell. Meeting Bucky’s friends would be another step in his plan to make you his. If they didn’t like you, maybe they’d sway him into forgetting about you. It was wishful thinking. Because you knew in your heart that Bucky wasn’t going to let you go.
But if he was going to play, maybe you could find a way to throw him off his game.
“I actually have plans. Maybe another time.”
You didn't bother looking to see if read the message or if he responded. Your life was your own. Bucky would have to deal with it. But knowing how he handled things so far, he’d find a way to have you on his arm tomorrow night.
Yay to @targaryenvampireslayer for guessing who the guard is! And what's Bucky going to do since you declined meeting his friends? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Raymond! I should've guessed!!! Oh this girl is even more trapped than she thinks. Ray is very good at his job.
I'll admit, I like Bucky's play there at the end. Yes, he's threatened her friends and loved ones, but he's also showing he can do good things for them as well. If she behaves.
I also really like that he recognizes her job brings her happiness and he does want her happy so she can continue to work. At least for now.
Oh, she has no idea how good Raymond is at his job. He's perfect for this world! Bucky wants to show that he can play nice, but how long will that last? And she loves what she does. Is there a catch though to her keeping her job? Thank you! ❤️
I have a thought since in game over, you wrote about the character, going to a comic con type thing. How about one of the characters that you write about is one of the actors in a show movie star type and a fans meet him and he becomes obsessed with the fan.
Steve in the Bookstore AU is like that. I've just not written the rest haha
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