I like to write and draw a bit, I guess. Big fan of PruCan, AoKaga, Bad Touch Trio, SpaMano, PoLiet, AkaFuri and anything that involves Hanamiya and Imayoshi! Big fan of Asking Alexandria, the GazettE, Three Days Grace, DIR EN GREY, 12012, Motionless in White and Bad Luck. I've always wanted to cosplay~ but I'm scared ._.
Request: Hi! I love your your writing (especially the mother nature ones and crush honestly,,,,, art lmao) and I was wondering if you could write something else for John? Like honestly anything I’m just really starved for pyro content 😂 if you don’t want to then uh dw 💜
A/N: if you guys want a blurb about wedding vows or baby making sex let me know!!
Warnings: teen pregnancy, swearing, mentions of sex, and some angst.
Word Count: 8.9k
“Hey, I know it’s been a while, but I miss you… and I know I shouldn’t… but I can’t help myself. I’m really sorry for everything I did. I hurt you, I acted out, I ruined all the relationships I had at the mansion…” His voice faltered as tears fell from his eyes.
“Um, you don’t have to call me back… I’m just really sorry for being such an asshole… You deserved better…”
You jokingly scoffed to yourself.
Typical John, You mused. Never realizing his potential.
Hi! I was wondering if I could request a John allerdyce x reader where they were friends back at Xavier's school and they meet again in the void. They have one night stand because of how lonely they feel there and then John confesses that he was in love with her at school
hehehehe hi i loved this one
I still don't know who you are, I only know that I'm still lonely
warnings: smut with feelings, smoking, reader in her feels thinking about the implications of the multiverse, ambiguous but fluffy ending
The void is cold at night, but sitting out on the roof of your trailer, you barely feel it. You stare up, stars dotting the sky, something you hadn’t seen in years before being sent here. It still tripped you out, the silence of the void most nights, compared to living in New York after graduating Xaviers. You can hear some kind of revelry going on from deep within the giant skull, but you don’t move to join them. What would be the point? These were all people you’d fought at one time, many of them also trying to kill you at one point. You don’t want to drink with them, as much as you miss that kind of camaraderie. Too much blood had been spilled for your liking, too much of it your own.
“Green thumb!” That voice calls, and you roll your eyes at the nickname.
“What do you want, firebug?” you respond, leaning over the edge of the roof to look at John. You already know what he wants though, one hand already pawing through your bag. There was a strategic reason Cassandra didn’t feed you to that creepy fucking thing in the sky. You can grow plants out of even a drop of water, and now you’re the cash crop in exchange for safety. Food, tobacco, alcohol. Funny how that works. Do any of them know you could poison them all? Does Cassandra know you’ve considered it?
John swings himself up the ladder to join you, plopping himself down as you finally fish out the baggie of freshly rolled cigarettes.
“You better light me up too,” you mumble, putting a second one to your lips.
“Why don’t you ever hang with us?” he asks, ignoring your plea until you tug his wrist so the flame is close enough to put your face against. You take a long drag, biting the edge of it as you let the smoke drift upwards from your lips, french inhaling.
“Okay, then I guess,” he pulls the cigarette from his mouth, “Why don’t you ever hang with me?”
You sigh, leaning back on your arms, plucking the cigarette from your lips.
“It’s weird. The last three times I saw you,” you sigh again, “It’s like, one day we were playing seven minutes in heaven at Bobby’s birthday party, and then the next you left us for Magneto, and then… years passed the sentinels were after you and I could do nothing. Or at least, my John was. But now apparently there are infinite versions of us and maybe you didn’t even do any of that, does it matter?”
You shrug, almost despairingly. The John you remember is not unlike this one. The John you knew was a friend, an almost something, until he wasn’t. One day the mansion was raided, and then all the sudden he was the enemy, and then Rogue and Bishop held you back as sentinels closed in on him. You hadn’t watched him die, you couldn’t. It’s for the same reason you forgave him for his part on Alcatraz instantly, even if that had caused a rift in your friendship with Bobby and Rogue.
“Hey I get it,” he says, fingers twitching as if he were to reach out to you, “but it gets lonely out there. Maybe I want a friend.”
“A friend?” you scoff, “You’ve got a bunch of them down there.”
You motion down towards the faint noise with your cigarette, biting your lip. A friend; what a weird concept for the void.
“Yeah, none of them will play seven minutes in heaven with me,” he scrunches up his face in mock disgust. And maybe another timeline where you’d waken up after Bobby’s birthday party you would have told him you had a crush on him, and then maybe he wouldn’t have left. Maybe there were even several timelines where that happened. You look to the stars, foreign in pattern. No constellations you can make out.
“Is that your attempt at flirting?” you ask, not wanting to actually dignify it with an answer. You pull smoke through your lips again, the cigarette now half done. And it’s the spent ash falling from the tip of it that signals to you how long you’ve been talking to the man next to you. A physical timer to signify the longest conversation you’ve had since Cassandra let you into this little club of hers.
“I dunno,” he leans in close, warmth radiating through the cold desert air between you, “is it working?”
You scoff at him again, not giving him an answer, but you lean closer. Your shoulders now touch, and the chill of the air leaves you. Heat glides across your skin, melting into your pores, gentle warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. Without thinking, you lean into the touch, pressing your arm against his to chase the heat. John says nothing, for once having the foresight to know words aren’t needed or wanted, and instead envelops you in an awkward side hug. God, how long has it fucking been since you’ve been hugged? You wrap your arms around his shoulders, a gesture he also chases, grip on you tightening as he rests his cheek against the curve of your bicep. You rest your own against his head, savoring the feeling of a simple embrace. His hands start to trace circles on your back, fingers drawing patterns on your hip. You hum in appreciation, his touch a salve on a wound you don’t recognize. You move in closer, your cigarette now abandoned to grasp and map out the expanse of John’s shoulders, straining against the awkward side hold to get even closer to him. One of your hands moves up to the base of his skull, fingers tangling in his hair.
John groans.
“Thats a dangerous move,” he warns you, but then you feel his lips brush against your arm through your tee shirt. Returning the motion, not even thinking about it, your lips find the crown of his head. Your bodies move involuntarily, seeking the closeness, affection between you. He groans again, and clumsily pulls you onto his lap to straddle him. Before either of you can think too hard about it, you come together in a kiss, a searing, messy thing. He holds you tight, pressing your chest to his, molding your bodies together. A strange noise leaves his mouth, a half moan half whimper reverberates against your lips as your hips make contact with his.
Curious, you grind your hips down, firm against his lap. Another whimper-moan escapes him, this time, desperate and hungry. His lips move against yours harshly, as if this is a last passionate kiss before an execution. You gasp as teeth graze your lip, stubble burns your chin, intoxicating as your bodies move.
“Fuck,” he pants, breaking the kiss only to still speak against your face, “I need you.”
You’re both breathless, moving in tandem rubbing against one another.
“Where?” you tease him, and then drag your hand down between you to land on his crotch, “Here?”
He hisses as he nods. He’s hard and hot against your palm, already straining against his pants. A bold surge of confidence has you moving your hand against him, almost studying how he reacts. You feel his cheek heat up against you, certain an adorable blush creeps over him. Fuck, you want more.
“Never took you for a fuckin’ tease.”
There’s laughter in his voice, and he squeezes your hips hard trying to urge you to keep touching him.
So he’s thought about this before.
“What’d you take me for, then?” Your voice sounds foreign to you, strained and thick from emotions you won’t dare let out.
“You know I’m kidding, right?” he asks, then presses a kiss to your jawline, “I thought you’d be meaner.”
He continues to kiss up your jaw, stopping only to nibble on your earlobe. You giggle as you try to push him away, girly and vulnerable.
“We should go inside,” you sigh, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and that’s that.
Your trailer is simple, enough room for a table, a hot plate, a cot, and a jug of water. Last time John had been in your space, it was a teen girl’s dorm filled with stuffed animals (some of which he had won for you), trinkets galore, plush blankets, cd collections, and polaroid collages documenting all of your friends and their antics. Though even in its scarcity, you’ve managed to make it your own. You’ve made paints from berries and flowers you’ve grown to paint murals, to write on the walls. It had become a hobby since photography was out of the question. You look at John almost nervously, wondering what he must think of all of this. His hands move at your waist, pulling up your shirt to explore bare skin.
“Get your pretty ass on that bed,” John commands you, hand snaking its way down to grab a handful of asscheek. You yelp at the harsh contact, but oblige him, turning to plop yourself down on the bed. Weak old springs creak under you, and you kick off your loosely laced boots to bring your feet up onto the bed. You scoot back onto the bed, beckoning him as bent knees fall open.
John wastes no time joining you, undoing his own boots to climb on top of you. His hair tickles your face as it dangles in anticipation of a kiss, his hips slotted between your thighs.
“Point of no return,” you warn him. Impulsive, selfish John; Protective, lonely John. There’s no conflict in his lust blown eyes, no questioning or hesitancy. He cups your cheek gently, and presses a languid kiss onto your lips.
You follow that one with a much more aggressive kiss, all but yanking him down onto you as your tongue moves against his bottom lip. His hand moves from your cheek to the base of your neck, thumb pressing just ever so lightly on your throat, and you whine at his touch. Heat floods to your core, every nerve in your body begging for more of him.
John understands, and moves accordingly, his tongue delving into your mouth as his hands travel further south. One of his hands finds purchase again on your hip, while the other drags between your thighs.
“Am I your friend yet?” he asks against your lips, and you nod desperately. You’re sure you’d agree to anything right now as long as he keeps touching you.
He pulls away from you, his eyes studying you as his fingers make contact with your clothed core. You sharply inhale as your hips buck at the contact, John’s hand steadying you at your hip. He presses harder against you, smiling as he’s given another buck of your hips.
“How ‘bout you let your friend John make you feel good then?”
“Please, fuck,” you gasp, your hands reaching up to try to pull him back down, “John, I need you to-“
He shushes you, and pulls further away, hands trailing down your form as he sits back on his heels. John unbuttons your pants before leaning back over you.
His hands work quickly unbuttoning your shirt, pushing it hastily out of the way to reveal you to him. You cringe slightly when you remember that the flimsy bra you’re wearing is stained; old blood discolors the top of each cup, a reminder of a scuffle you’d gotten yourself into. If he notices, John makes no mention, instead just groaning appreciatively as he replaces the cups with his own big hands. His lips move from your neck to your collarbone, mapping out your skin like new territory. You arch your back into his motions, unable to stop the whining keen from your mouth as he sucks a possessive hickey right where your collarbone meets the front of your throat.
He runs his fingers down your stomach, feather light touches that tickle you and leave trails of goosebumps in their wake.
His rough hands feel like home against your skin, hands that hold memory and shared history, maybe even multitudes of them. In all the other timelines, does John undress you as hastily as this? In other timelines, are you with John? It’s a stream of questioning that blurs and muddles like the ripple of a wave, disrupted by your pants being pulled from your legs, your underwear following shortly after.
He’s extremely ungraceful removing his own clothes, clamoring off the bed to shimmy out of his pants and boxers, practically whipping his shirt off over his head. You’re certain you hear a button pop somewhere. This eagerness is easily the sexiest thing about John, just an absolute need to do this to you. If his kiss was a spark, this move right here is a wildfire. You start to sit up, legs still open and inviting as you raise a finger to beckon him back over. Only, He practically tackles you back onto the bed. You’re thrown into your pillows, plush cotton and down cradling your skull as he eclipses the little light that exists.
“John!” you giggle as his frame covers yours again, his hair falling down and brushing your cheeks.
Your hands meet each others, then dance past, traveling across bare shoulders, traversing bare chests. Panting, moaning mixing with the air between you. He presses his hips into yours, his hardness against you.
“John,” you gasp, your hips jerking against his, instant friction blazing. It’s intoxicating, the John of it all surrounding you, his body against yours.
“Do that again,” he begs, and your hips comply, this time much more intentional. You drag yourself against him, his shaft getting caught in and splitting your lips. You gasp sharply, stopping in your tracks as he makes contact with your clit. Fuckfuckfuck. Your vision goes white for a moment, heaven behind your eyelids. John groans, dipping his head low to nip at your jaw. His hands find your chest, kneading and groping you, encouraging you to keep moving. The friction of the drag becomes less and less as your hips move, and if this were another time and place, you might be embarrassed at how obvious your want was growing; but here, here you feel emboldened by it, encouraged by John’s hips trying to meet your motions, moving himself through that want just as needy and desperate. He gasps and groans against your ear, and you swear, you’ll finish just like this.
“On top,” John pants, “Need you…”
He doesn’t need to finish that sentence. You nod, kissing him again as you grab onto his shoulders, a silent urging for him to flip your position. His arms wrap around you, hugging you close as he turns himself. It’s like a muscle memory, the way the two of you work together seamlessly in this way. Suddenly, the idea that this John is your John isn’t such an insane thought. Your John was intuitive like this.
You tilt your hips into hip, his cock now resting against his stomach, a much easier angle to grind yourself down onto him. You test the waters with the first stroke, a loud appreciative groan responds. The second one is shallow, technically several mini grinds, stroking yourself up and sown his shaft, clit catching along the head and making your shudder. Johns fingers dig into your thighs, his teeth gritted and brow furrowed in concentration.
“You’re a lot more patient than I thought you’d be,” you mention, though your voice shakes and clearly youre hurtling towards losing your resolve yourself.
“Please,” he begs, “Please, baby.”
And at that you’re a goner. You nod, lips falling open as you maneuver yourself over him, his hands immediately helping, grasping the base of his shaft in one hand and rubbing gentle strokes on your waist with the other.
Two gasps fill the air as his tip meets your entrance, and as if shocked, Johns hands move back to your knees, holding them tightly as if bracing himself for impact.
You ease yourself onto him, an involuntary hiss between gritted teeth as you adjust to the size of him. Fuck, he hadn’t felt this big when you were groping him earlier. The stretch is divine, though, your lashes fluttering closed as your hips meet his. Both of you sigh, a seal of heat and need bonding the two of you together. His hands move from your knees, trialing up your thighs to find your hips again. His thumbs dig into your skin, and for a moment it feels like pain, breaking through to something else.
As if compelled, you find yourself moving, not caring about getting comfortable and adjusting. Shallow thrusts; ripples in the tide. You grind down as you hips kiss his again, slow and deliberate. Teasing.
John practically whimpers below you, his grip on you tightening and loosening as he flexes his hands against you, clearly attempting restraint. How out of character for your John, you think, not even bothering to remind yourself this probably isn’t yours.
“You don’t have to hold back,” you tell him, your voice watery and wavering, “Y’won’t break me.”
His eyes leave your chest to meet yours, asking permission through a bitten lip.
“Fuck me,” you say, resolve returning to your voice. You grab one of his hands, and move it to your ass, pushing his palm into the meat of one cheek until his fingers dig themselves in. At this rate, trails of his fingers with stay bruised on you for a week. Good, you think.
John breathes out, a half sigh half chuckle, and then nods as if you’ve challenged him; and maybe you have, with the way that he looks at you the way he looked at battle twenty years ago.
His grasp on you never moves, but his hips buck up into yours, his heels dig into your mattress. You bounce up, thrown from stability at the movement, a yelp turns into a laugh, and you plant your hands on his chest.
“Hang on,” he jokes, and then thrusts again.
John sets an agonizing pace. He is neither slow nor gentle; forceful movements, energy buzzing in every muscle. He fucks fast, and hard, but his face is one of pure delight in the starlight. He smiles up at you like you made the stars yourself. You find yourself struggling to catch your breath under the heat rising in your cheeks, little keens and moans leaving a smile that rivals his.
He breaks his pattern by rolling his hips, a loud moan ripping itself from your throat as your body jolts, a clear warning you won’t last too much longer.
“I’m- I-“ you try to warn him, and he nods knowingly.
“I got you,” he assures you, his own voice sounding as out of control as yours. He tilts your hips in his hands, the next thrust now coming pelvis to pelvis, your clit bumping against where hair meets the base of his shaft. Your fingers curl and dig into his chest, begging to leave bruises of their own, to mark him the way he marks you. Something, if even temporary, to show that the desolation was staved off for at least one night. Something that, every time John looks in a mirror, he can trace the patterns of you in his skin. Each thrust earns a moan from you now, any semblance of control or shame gone now as everything becomes John in your world.
He speeds up, his own moaning mingling with yours, chasing his own end, a mutual high. His thrusts begin to lose their rhythm, speed and that delicious bump of his pelvis against your clit becoming his goal more than consistency, chasing the way you jolt and whine in his grasp.
“Gonna let me have it?” he asks, hand flexing, but never leaving your ass. You nod, head bobbing wildly with desperation. John lifts his hips fully off the bed, his thrusts wild and harsh; the need to have you come undone on his eclipsing anything else.
He babbles praise, half sentences of sweet nothings and encouraging, begging for you to come on his cock one moment and then telling you how pretty you look the next. He moans, cutting his own sentences off, switches up his stroking, interrupts himself in the desperation to please you.
You hold on for dear life, pleasure spiking with each of John’s thrust. Your peak meets you quickly, John’s body a lightning rod for your ecstasy.
“Fuck!” you come with a cry, shoulders crumpling as you begin to shake. Your hand planted on his chest curls, your nails digging into the smattering of hair between his pectorals. John’s lips are parted, eyes concentrating on you, taking in every second of this; the way your face contorts in pleasure, the way your body responds to his thrusting below you. You ride it out, John’s hold on your hips and his thrusts upward both becoming more gentle, your body contorting and contracting around him.
He pulls you back down, strong arms holding you to his chest. John presses sloppy kisses to your face, no real rhythm or pattern; just holds you as you come down from release, the aftershocks of pleasure. Your end triggers his, lazy shallow thrusts meet a shuddering groan, and heat spills against the inside of your thigh. Your hands find his hair, smoothing and combing through it, a grounding gesture as you lay folded above him.
You stay like that for what feels like an eternity, until he mumbles something about your knees and moves you off of him. However the cold air of the night has no time to sink into your bones before he engulfs you in an embrace, snuggling closely into wordless comfort.
When you wake up, your shades are drawn, only lines of dawn’s light shining through and replacing last night’s starlight. The first thing you notice is the streaks illuminating your little den.
The next thing you notice is the quiet snoring of the body next to you. But, as if on cue, he wakes at the slightest shift of your body, still wrapped in his arms. Instead of letting you go, or moving, he just pulls you closer, snuggling in under the thin sheet, his skin warm on yours.
“Quit moving, babe,” he mumbles, pressing a placating kiss to your forehead.
“You’re still here,” you say, sleepiness not hiding the surprise in your voice.
He chuckles, and presses another kiss to your face, closer to your brow.
“Mhm, ‘course I am,” his lips drag across your face as he repositions, leaning over your frame. His hand moves, and replaces itself to rest on your chest, a teasing squeeze as he kisses your nose.
“I’m glad,” you tell him, pushing him until there’s a bit of space for you to breathe, “I missed you.”
John searches your face, noting every crease and smile line, eyes darting from one feature to the next, soaking you in. You feel studied, like a bug pinned and flat; every bump and flaw and scar from a lifetime of fighting and running laid bare for him.
Before you can retreat inward, John opens his mouth.
“You know I loved you, right?”
Your breath hitches, a ghost of a gasp. A distant memory of fumbled kisses in a closet; of putting a cold spoon against a hickey, a chorus of teasing from friends.
You want to remind him he’s probably not even the one from your timeline, that your John was probably dead. But in infinite timelines, how many ways could that not happen? How many timelines have John staying, have John finding you again?
Your hand finds his cheek, calloused fingers dancing over his stubble. He’s handsome in a way you never imagined when you were doodling hearts next to little flames in your notebooks in class. Rugged, desert worn, masculine. Fuck it.
Is this not John finding you again, timelines be damned?
Release date (Windows, Mac OS, Android, Steam)
Multi-language release: October 1st, 2024
"You have unfortunately been captured by a serial killer, and you must increase your chances of survival within seven days. Your choices will determine how he treats you and the outcome of your relationship.
What will your final relationship with him be...? Will there be a change in the relationship between the killer and his prey?
This is an official romantic horror visual novel game created to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the character from 'Bloody Painter' and to give back to the fans for their support.
It is a spin-off based on the 2017 version of the story."
This is a free game by DeluCat! You can download it here. The Steam version will release later this month.
so we all know scott is a bit of a soft dom with lots of praise but hear my submissive whore ass out— scott having a bad day at work and he takes his frustration out by being a mean rough dom with tons of degrading 😩 because LOOK AT HIM goddammit i hate him.
He totally has soft dom vibes, lovely! I completely agree. I don't know if this is rough enough, but... Wow. This got away from me. Have some Thots Without Thoughts.
Use Me
Pairing: Scott Huffman x Female Reader
Word Count: Over 1.4k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), mix of degradation (slut) and praise, lightly spanking, light bondage, D/s vibes, Scott Huffman being a feral beast. Also an AU (HE IS MARRIED TO YOU)
Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own.
I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere but here or archiveofourown under my same username, it has been reposted without my permission. 18+ Please!!! Please comment or reblog if you desire!
You couldn't ask for a better husband and lover than Scott Huffman. Besides treating you well, he made you feel good… cherished. He always made sure to thank you for the little things, like making the bed, and the praise made you feel like you were floating.
But Scott, like everyone else, had bad days.
You knew something was off the moment he walked through the door. The kiss he gave you was chaste. There was no smile or warmth… and he didn't comment on the mouthwatering aroma of the meal you made.
"Is everything okay?" you asked quietly.
"Bad day," he muttered as he took his seat at the head of the table and dug in. You ate your food quietly as you sat down, not bothering with small talk. He didn't ask you how you were either. You pushed the hurt aside because you knew something was wrong. But how could you help if he didn't talk to you?
The only sounds made throughout the meal were the scrapes of your forks against the plates. It was enough to drive you crazy. The strange thing was, he didn't take his eyes off of you. He stared as he took each bite, his eyes filled with something you didn't recognize, and you found yourself squirming under his gaze.
"All finished?" you asked as you stood up.
Scott leaned back in his chair, silently pushing his plate away as he kept staring.
You clenched involuntarily from how dark his eyes were as you walked around to clear the table. He practically undressed you with his eyes as you leaned over to grab the first dish, pausing when he gripped your wrist.
"The last… fucking thing I need right now is for you to tease me."
You straightened up, trying to pull free of his grasp as he pushed his chair back. "Scott, I wasn't-"
"Putting those perfect tits in my face. You think I don't know what you're doing, sweetheart?" he scoffed as he stood up.
You gasped as his grip tightened, not enough to hurt. But you sometimes forget how strong he was… and how much you could underestimate his primal need. "I'm sorry."
"You're not sorry. No one ever is," he said, pushing the dishes away with his free hand. The sound of them hitting the floor made you jump.
"I…" you swallowed. You should have felt afraid, but his heated gaze throughout the meal had your panties damp and core throbbing. "I just want to help."
"You want to help me?" he asked, his tone above a whisper. That made your heart pound faster than if he screamed it.
"I-"
He spun you around before you could protest and pushed your chest against the table. "Scott…" you gasped, turning your head to get a glimpse of him as he pushed your dress up.
"You know how you can help?" he asked rhetorically, tearing the fabric away. "You can take my cock like a good wife and thank me for letting me fuck you."
He paused to gently touch your spine. You knew what he was asking for. "Green… Use me. I can take it," you told him. Because you were made for him.
But you didn't know how pent up he was.
He chuckled as he unbuckled his belt, kicking your legs apart to give him more access. You whined when you felt his fingertip trace along your folds. "My filthy little slut, aren't you? Look at you. So desperate to be filled by my cock. You'd do anything for it."
You bit your tongue to keep from screaming that you weren't a slut. But you clenched so tightly at his words. After all, he said you were his slut.
"But I'll give it to you because you're such a good girl. My good girl," he praised, that tender touch moving down your spine again before he dropped his pants. "Put your hands behind your back."
Your chest heaved as you did so, biting back a whine when you felt his tie around your wrists. You tested the knot. You couldn't get free. You were completely at his mercy.
"Fuck, you really are a vision… should tape myself fucking you...” he went on as he stroked himself. “Maybe another day.”
"Scott!" you cried when he suddenly impaled you, your mouth hanging open as he pulled out and slammed into you again.
"Never seen anyone look so pretty with a cock buried inside them. Should see your pussy stretched around me. That's what you were made for… to fucking take me."
Your cheek felt warm against the table as your body adjusted to his rough motions. There were no soft kisses or loving words. There was no prep or consideration for your comfort. He did what you asked... He used you.
He leaned down, his lips at your ear as he harshly grunted. He sounded like an animal. "Everyone thinks you're a good girl… but, fuck, I know you love feeling my come drip down your thighs after I fuck you. Your tight hole loves being filled by me. Greedy fucking cunt can't get enough."
You whined, hearing the wet sounds of your need as he thrust in and out. The ache between your legs grew as he drove harder into you and you knew you'd feel him for days. You wanted your pussy to take the shape of his cock and know that nothing and no one else belonged there.
"Babe?" he breathed against your ear.
"Green," you moaned. It could have been the Emerald fucking City, that was how much you craved the push and pull between degradation and praise. Because you wanted to be his whore… but a good one.
"Dirty girl," he mocked.
You heard the slaps on his hips meeting yours, your eyes slipping shut as he pushed you further into the table. You ignored the burn or your arms in favor of the ecstasy he was building inside you. It was as if your body wasn't your own. It was his toy now.
"Bet you were wet the moment you sat down. Weren't you? Tell me."
"Yes!" you moaned, unashamed. Would he always resort you to this? Someone who needed to be bent over and fucked within an inch of your life?
"Gonna come so hard around my dick. Should push you on the table and watch it slide out after I make you mine. Make a mess where I eat. Think you can get the smell of your cunt off of it?"
You wailed, wishing desperately that you could rub your clit and fall off the edge. You wouldn't need to though. Not with the way your walls kept convulsing.
"You need to come?" he gritted, sounding nothing like your loving husband.
"Yes, Scott! Yes!" you sobbed when his hand came down on your ass. Your eyes snapped open and you almost came on the spot.
"Mr. Huffman. And fucking ask nicely," he growled, making you tighten around him as his hand came down again. "Is my cock that good that you forgot your fucking manners?"
"Mr. Huffman, please!" you begged, tears burning your eyes.
His mouth found your neck, his lips soft before he lightly bit down. "Come for me. Right fucking now."
Your orgasm peaked, your body locking up, before you let go. You let out a scream of undeniable pleasure, taking what he gave you. You heard your release, knowing that his dick was soaked with your essence. It should have humiliated you, but it almost triggered another orgasm.
"Jesus fuck. My beautiful… good… fucking slut," he growled as he thrust hard one last time, painting your walls and adding to mess he made of your body. You felt wrecked, used… and alive.
The angle was awkward as he moved his head, your arms sore from his weight against them. He was still breathing heavily as he gently gripped your chin. "Still with me, babe?" he breathed as his lips touched yours.
You made a noise, feeling some of your release, and his, seep around him. "Feel better?"
He nodded and kissed you gently before letting you rest your head. "Yes. Thank you. I love you so much."
You shivered, clenching around him before you could stop yourself. Hearing his affirmation after claiming you was one of the best things you could ask for. "Love you, too. And thank you… for fucking me."
He smiled as he leaned up, his hands gently gripping your hips. You felt the indent of his wedding band, making you smile, too. "Don't thank me yet. I'm not done with you."
Navy, I had a thought that I needed to share. Based off that convo we had about dbf!scott 😏
It was always a risk - him taking you under his wing to work at his office as his assistant to show you the ropes. He knows you’re usually a good girl but for some reason, you’re being a little cheeky because you didn’t expect your dad’s best friend to give you so much work.
Scott looks at you like this, tells you to behave or else.
Or else what, you ask. Just wanting to give him that little push to see how far you could go before he made good on his words.
Ahh! I love this. I’ve never done Dad’s Best Friend before and I don’t think I did this justice, but here we are. I hope you like it anyway and thanks for the inspiration!
Behave or Else
Pairing: Dad’s Best Friend Scott Huffman x Female Reader
Word Count: Over 1.6k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, cockwarming, slight D/s behavior, slight possessive behavior, some feels (it’s me), Scott Huffman AU (divorced).
Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner credit to @its-just-may.
It was a risk for Scott to hire you as his assistant. On paper, you more than met the qualifications. You were passionate and driven. You were also a beautiful, caring, temptress sent to test his will… His best friend's daughter.
Scott didn't date after his divorce. It wasn't messy or dramatic, but love was lost along the way somewhere and it hurt. The more he was around you, the more the pain shifted to hope. You made him believe he had a chance to get it right. He was older, though, and you could have anyone you wanted. He was certain you wouldn't want him.
Oh, how wrong he was.
Memories sometimes faded, but he would never forget the first time he felt your tight cunt around him. He could only be a gentleman for so long when you offered yourself to him like a gift. It was paradise and everything he denied himself since he hired you. More than that… you made him happy.
But the two of you had to be careful. It wasn't because he was ashamed of you or his want for you. He was proud to call you his. But your dad… He was a good man and you were his world.
"Anything else, Mr. Huffman?" you asked, file in hand as you leaned over his desk and dropped it. Your blouse was unbuttoned just enough to give him a glance as your perfect breasts. "Or do I have another file to fix?"
His jaw clenched at the annoyance in your voice. You usually behaved, but today you were pushing it. Despite the things he wanted to do to you, and your father would kill him if he knew, he couldn't give you special treatment. "You actually have one left," he said, picking it up for you.
You huffed as you snatched it from his hand and straightened up, spinning so quickly away from him that your skirt twirled. He swore as he got a glance at your panties from how short it was. Before he let himself get distracted, he cleared his throat. It was enough to make you pause and glance over your shoulder.
"Having a bad day?" he asked because he was genuinely concerned. He also didn't appreciate the attitude since he was still your boss.
"Not bad. Just frustrated and busy."
He knew exactly why you were frustrated. Too much time had passed since he touched you. But work had to be done. "Some days are busier than others."
"Especially when you keep giving me senseless busy work," you mumbled as you turned to fully face him. "You know I'm capable of more than what you've been giving me lately."
He nodded, not denying your statement. "I know you're also ambitious, but you have to start at the bottom and work your way up like the rest of us. You still have a lot to learn."
"And you're more than happy to teach me during those late nights, aren't you? Is that how I should get ahead? Show off my other skills?"
His jaw clenched again as he stood up from his chair and leaned his hands on his desk. You were trying to get a rise out of him and, damn it, it was working. The idea of anyone else getting use out of your skills made his blood boil. "Behave."
"Behave?" you repeated, amusement in your eyes.
"Behave or else."
You had stepped forward and set the file down, confidence in your frame as you leaned in. Your lips were close to his as you whispered, "Or else what?"
You wanted to play. He respected that. Though he was out of commission for some time, he had still played the game longer. And he had a way to get you to finish your work and still have fun. So instead of closing the gap to kiss you, he pushed himself back and sat down. "Finish that file. I won't ask again."
Disappointment flickered in your eyes at his tone. You knew it wasn't one to argue with. "Yes, sir."
A rush of power went through him with those small words. "Here," he said in a low voice, tapping his thigh with one finger.
Your eyebrows shot up before you smiled. His heart raced at the sight. He adored that look. "You want me to sit on your lap while I finish working?"
He chuckled as you slowly rounded the desk. "I want you to sit on my cock."
The words hung in the air as your gaze fell to his lap, staring momentarily as you pressed your thighs together. “I thought we had to be careful.”
“We do… but it’s a slow day,” he justified. "You think you can keep my cock warm like a good girl while you finish your work?"
"Yes, sir," you said softly, stopping his hands as he reached for his belt. You leaned down, brushing your nose against his as you unbuckled his pants. Those little bouts of affection affected him deeply. How were you so perfect?
He groaned when he was pulled from his thoughts. You wasted no time getting his cock out, stroking it just how he liked it. "Get your skirt up. Let me see how wet you are.”
You took your hand away, lifting your skirt with ease. He could see the wet patch through your panties and, fuck, if that didn’t make him harder knowing that he did that.
“Take them off and give them to me.”
You shivered as you did as you were told, hooking your fingers into the waistband and sliding them off. You placed them in his outstretched hand after you stepped out of them, inhaling sharply when he put them in his pocket. “Scott...”
“It’s Mr. Huffman or Sir in the office. Now sit. Facing the desk.”
He leaned back slightly when you turned away, gripping your hips to guide you back. Your gaze was the perfect blend of innocence and sensual as he helped you straddle him. He loved the side of you that had snark and fire, but he also loved the side that was soft like a gentle breeze.
He released one hip, gripping his cock to slide into your glistening hole. Tempted to snap his hips up, he stayed in control and let you sink down inch by inch. The feel of you snug around him made you both moan, squeezing his eyes shut as he took a moment to get lost in your tight heat. The two of you just fit together, even if some wouldn’t understand.
His eyes opened when you wiggled, wrapping an arm around your waist to stop you. "Stay still and be good."
He felt you shudder as he moved the chair closer to the desk, waiting for you to open the file and get your pen in hand. He felt a rush of pride when it took you a moment to get your bearings. “Yes, sir,” you said as normally as you could as you began to read and make corrections as you saw them.
A few minutes passed without a word being spoken, your pen moving along the paper and your soft breaths the only sounds in the room. Having you like this was thrilling. You could get caught. Being inside you also grounded him. He felt young, playful. He wanted to tease you.
He let another minute pass before his hand snaked under your skirt, making you clench around him when he began to rub your clit. You were soaked and aching for him. He knew it.
“Please…” you whimpered.
“Did I say you could stop? Finish it.”
The next breath you let out was shaky, but you obeyed. He didn’t speed up the movement of his fingers, keeping you on the edge. His cock pulsed and practically pleaded to fill you up, but he stayed still for another minute. And another.
When he finally drove his hips up, your head fell back. It gave him the opportunity to place soft kisses along your neck. "Fuck me," you begged.
He kissed up to your ear as he stopped, your breaths ragged. "I'm not gonna fuck you, babe," he whispered, chuckling when you whined. "Not now. Just because you're keeping my dick wet doesn't mean I'll give you what you want. I'm still your boss. Sass me again and you won't come for a week."
“Please, let me come. I need it.”
“Oh, you need it?” he asked calmly, pressing firmer on your swollen bud. “Is your pussy so greedy you won’t even think about what I need?”
“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, trying to grind down and get some relief. “I just… needed you.”
His eyes slipped shut again, breathing you in. The sincerity in your tone, needing him when you could have so many others, was enough to make him take pity on you. “You have done your work well… And I don’t like to give special treatment, but you deserve a reward.”
You cried out, squirming when he rubbed your clit faster. He felt you chasing your pleasure and you were almost there, but you needed that one final push. “Please.”
“Come,” he practically growled.
You fluttered and clenched around his cock, groaning when he felt that gush of heat. He wished he could bury his face in it and get your sweet essence on his tongue, but there would be time for that later. He wanted to see your face the next time he made you come. “So, you do know how to behave.”
You were still trembling as you came down, laughing breathlessly. “When the occasion… calls for it,” you teased before you froze. “You didn’t come.”
“No,” he said, turning your head to place a tender kiss on your soft lips. “But I’ll bend you over as soon as you get that file closed.”
Pairing: Motocross!Hal Carter x Female Reader
Summary: Hal is smitten when he spots you at the tracks.
Word Count: Almost 800
Warnings: Fluff, a touch of flirting, reader is a tad shy, motocross!Hal Carter (he's a warning, okay?)
A/N: Meet Cowboy and Belle! July has been a terrible month for me writing wise, but this is still something. Set in the world of Starting Gate, Lapper and Downshift, we'll see them again. Thanks to @book-dragon-13 for looking this over and helping with the nickname, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by @firefly-graphics and banners by @maysdigitalarts. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world! ❤️
Hal Carter always wanted to make something of himself.
WIth his sunglistened skin, natural charm, and blue eyes that sparkled almost as bright as his smile, a few thought he should’ve been a model.
Most people in his town wrote him off as a lost cause because his dad was a bum. His own mom didn’t even believe he’d accomplish anything.
Maybe that was why he stole that dirt bike years ago.
There was no place in the world for a guy like him, so why not prove them right?
He didn’t expect to fall in love with riding or revel in the rush of adrenaline.
When he was on his bike, he didn’t feel judged. It was freedom.
But being free didn’t pay the bills, not to mention dirt bikes on public roads were illegal.
He paid his dues and did what he could to become a racer.
Odds and ends jobs helped him save up for equipment. He even managed to save up enough for a Motocross School a few towns over.
When he wasn’t working, he practiced on dirt roads and tracks.
Hal didn’t want to just be good. He wanted to make his mark.
What better way to stand out than to give the crowd something to make them look?
Freestyle tricks were his trademark and the thing that put him on the map. Nac-Nac, Kiss of Death, Tsunami, anything to draw a gasp from the crowd.
His Southern background and light showboating earned him the nickname Cowboy.
Some of the other riders liked to sing, “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy” whenever the pit lizards hovered around him and teased it was a shame he had to cover up his handsome face.
The attention was nice, but he knew those girls didn’t care about him. He wanted someone interested in more than a thrill.
The day he met you, you weren’t paying any attention to him.
He hadn't seen you before. No, he would've remembered you.
You stood apart from the crowd as you packed up your camera, doing your best not to draw attention to yourself. You even lowered your head when Maddox looked your way.
He had to know your name.
Before he could stop himself, he weaved through the sea of people until he stood in front of you. Part of it was to keep Maddox from bothering you, but the other was to selfishly see you up close.
He was screwed the moment you lifted your gaze and looked into his eyes, his heart doing a funny summersault when you adjusted your bag on your shoulder and curled in slightly on yourself.
“Hi. I’m Hal Carter,” he smiled, wiping his hand on his pants before he offered it to you. "Haven't seen you around the tracks."
“Hi,” you said softly, giving him your hand after a second. It was so soft. "First time here. Just took a few photos," you cleared your throat as you glanced away and pulled your hand back.
Hal was about to ask if you were okay before he remembered he remembered he was shirtless. "Oh, sorry. I usually put another shirt on before I mingle," he teased, gesturing to his abs.
Another one of his trademarks was throwing his shirt into the crowd once he was done. He hoped you weren't uncomfortable.
"Yo, Hal! She gonna save a horse and ride a cowboy?" Maddox yelled his way as you stiffened.
"Fuck off, Maddox," one of the other guys snapped.
Why? Why now? If you weren't uncomfortable before…
“I’m sorry. I have to go,” you said quickly.
“Wait,” Hal begged, careful not to invade your space as you took a step back. "You said you took some photos, right?"
You nodded, gripping the strap of your bag as a few people moved closer. He wanted nothing more than to put his arm around you and draw you away from everyone.
"I'd love to see some of the shots from today if that's okay? No hard feelings if you don't wanna."
"Okay," you smiled bashfully as you dug a card out for him. "I hope they turn out well. Your tricks were great."
Why does that sweet look make me want to ruin and take care of you?
"Thanks. I'm sure they will," he grinned, glancing at the card as he brushed his thumb along your printed name. "Nice meeting you, Belle."
"T-That's not my name."
"Should be. You're the most beautiful girl here."
You shook your head a little when his grin widened. "Bye, Hal."
He wondered if the line was cheesy, but the shy smile he caught before you walked away gave him hope.
Looking at the card, he couldn't wait to see you again.
He just hoped he made a lasting impression.
Excited to share more of our motocross boys when I can. Love and thanks! ❤️
Pairing: Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky shows a different side of himself when you venture into a corn maze.
Word Count: Over 3.2k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, DUBCON, unprotected vaginal sex, semi-public, breeding kink, spooky vibes, established relationship, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Welcome to Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks to @ghotifishreads who suggested soft!dark Bucky with a breeding kink and @tumblin-theworldaway for listening to me (s)cream about this. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @vonalyn , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
It was your first Autumn with Bucky. The two of you had been dating for less than a year, but you were completely enamored with him. Not only was he doting and smart, but he was a man who made your heart flutter in your chest whenever he looked your way. Even thinking about him sets your heart ablaze. He was the one for you.
“Come on,” you smiled as you took his hand and pulled him toward the pumpkin patch entrance.
The two of you took turns regarding date nights and outings. Today, you chose a pumpkin patch. You told him it wouldn’t feel like Fall if you didn’t go and listed off the fun things to do. There was a hayride, pumpkins and apples to pick, a corn maze, and much more. He obliged since he knew it would make you happy. He even gave you a small smile when you told him the website claimed that the maze was tricky, but you knew he’d find his way out easily.
You stopped and inhaled the cool air, the scent of warm apple cider drifting your way from the stand nearby. The temperature dropped just enough that you were comfortable in a sweater and the sun peeked out through the clouds to greet you. It wasn't overly crowded and it was the perfect weather. Even better because you had the perfect man by your side.
It was going to be a good day.
“Where should we start?” You asked, smiling when a small group of kids headed toward one of the tractors. “Hayride? Pick a pumpkin to carve later?”
“Where do you want to start?” Bucky replied, a small breeze blowing some of his dark brown hair back.
Your answer died in your throat as you gazed at him. His hair was the third thing you noticed about him, long enough that it almost touched his shoulders and soft to the touch. You loved running your fingers through it, whether it was to soothe him and pull it when he was between your thighs. The second thing you took notice of was the massive size of your now boyfriend. Over 6’4” with broad shoulders, a puffed out chest, and thighs made for riding, he intimated most while he excited you.
His cool blue eyes, of course, were the first thing. Gazing into them was like swimming in a private sea, ready to ride a gentle wave or get swept away in a storm depending on his mood. You could handle the entire range of emotions because you were his girl. It was that simple.
“You’re staring, doll,” he smiled, your cheeks warm at being caught. If any other guy called you "doll", it would've sounded silly. It was endearing coming from him.
“Well, I can't help it. You’re gorgeous,” you said.
“You are gorgeous,” he argued, the compliment sending more heat to your cheeks.
“You said that this morning,” you teased. The two of you moved in together recently and you had a hard time getting out of bed some days. Waking up beside him was like a dream, but it was your reality.
“And I'll say it again,” he smiled before a girl stopped in front of the two of you with a tray.
“Hi,” she greeted with an ear-to-ear smile. “Would either of you care for a sample of cider? We have warm and chilled.”
“Ooh,” you smiled, glancing between the cups. You loved apple cider. “I'll take warm, please.”
“Same. Thanks,” Bucky said, selecting cups for each of you. He blew on his before he drank it, a weird look crossing his face as he swallowed. “Is something on the bottom of my cup?”
“Nothing on mine,” you said, glancing at his cup once you tried your cider. “I think it's a sticker. Is it a cauldron?”
“Oh! You got the lucky, special sample!” the girl grinned as you and Bucky shared a confused look. She balanced the tray in one hand as she handed your boyfriend an orange coupon and took the empty cups from you. “Free cider for two. Enjoy!”
“Thanks,” Bucky said before she went to give samples to others.
“Lucky guy,” you smiled, raising an eyebrow as he slowly licked his lips. “You okay?”
He blinked and nodded. “Yeah. Was just warmer than I expected.”
“You didn't burn your tongue, did you?”
“No, but you should massage your tongue with mine anyway,” he half joked.
You smiled and nodded toward the maze. “Why don’t we check that out first?”
“So, you’d rather check out a maze instead of soothing your boyfriend's tongue?”
You giggled as you made your way to the start, grabbing a small sheet of paper. There were different sets of “animal tracks” to find throughout the maze. Anyone who found them all got a prize. “Why check out a maze when I can check you out?” You asked, unable to keep a straight face. “That was cheesy.”
“It wasn’t cheesy,” he said before his smile widened. “It was corny.”
“Oh, my god,” you laughed more. One thing about your boyfriend, he could always bring a smile to your face. “You think you’re so…”
A little boy ran out of the maze with a smile before he lost his footing and pitched forward, his sheet of paper floating to the ground as it flew from his hand. You rushed over to help when he began to cry, carefully helping the poor child sit up. “Ouch,” he sniffled.
“Hey. You okay?” you gently asked, making sure to keep your demeanor calm as you brushed some of the dirt away. You also grabbed his sheet before it could blow away. “Can you tell me where it hurts?”
He wiped his face and pointed to his knee once he rolled up his pant leg. “Right here.”
“Okay. Let’s take a look,” you nodded as Bucky joined you, crouching down on the other side of the boy. He looked worried, too. Minus the small scrape, he looked fine overall. “Poor little guy. Scrapes are no fun. But you know what? You’re a strong little boy.”
“I am?” he asked in a small voice.
“Yeah. Very strong,” Bucky agreed. "My girl wouldn't lie to you."
It was sweet how he spoke of you. “And you found all the animals, so you get a prize,” you smiled, showing him his paper where all of them were shaded. “You’re strong and smart,” you added, which brought a smile to his face, too.
“Timmy!” a woman shouted as she jogged out to the maze. “I told you not to run off. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” he replied, taking your hand so you could get him to his feet. “Hurts, but I’m strong and smart.”
Timmy’s mom bent down to inspect his knee herself before she gave you a relieved smile. “Thank you for helping him. How can I repay you?”
“That's not necessary. We're glad we could help,” you said, making sure he had his sheet. “You enjoy your prize and listen to your mom, okay?”
“Okay,” he nodded, waving as he went with his mom. “Thanks!”
“Cute little guy,” you smiled as Bucky slowly stood up. Your boyfriend had a few expressions that you were used to seeing, but you couldn’t read the current look he gave you. It was as if he was seeing you in a different light. “What?”
“Why haven't I knocked you up yet?"
You opened your mouth to say something, a feverish and unexpected heat moving through your body. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard what I said,” he said, his piercing gaze rooting you to the spot. “Just wondering why I haven't."
Though you knew Bucky was the man for you, the topic of kids hadn’t come up much. Partially because you hadn’t been together a year yet. Wouldn’t it be too soon to have a little one running around when you weren’t even engaged? Not that the two of you had to get married to have kids.
Maybe him seeing me comfort Timmy brought it to the front of his mind.
“I don’t know, Bucky. Why haven’t you knocked me up yet?” you teased. You almost shrank under his gaze a moment later when he didn’t laugh or crack a smile.
“Maybe I should. We can go home and get started right now,” he said. There was no hint of a joke in his tone. “This would be a fun place to bring our kids one day. Don't you think?"
“Why don’t we talk about it after the maze?”
He looked hurt for a split second and you almost assured you weren’t blowing him off. You wouldn't do that. It was merely a serious talk for another time. “Sure. After the maze,” he agreed, taking your hand as you made your way back over.
A chill ran down your spine when you walked through the entrance. It was strange. You weren’t afraid, especially since it wasn’t dark outside. So where did the unexpected chill come from?
“You okay?” Bucky asked, his voice a little rougher than usual as his grip tightened on your hand. Did he feel weird being in here, too? “I didn't freak you out, did I?”
“I'm fine and you didn't freak me out. You know you can tell me anything,” you replied, shaking it off the chill as the two of you began to walk through. The maze took up almost a third of the entire place, the stalks high enough that neither of you could see over them. “I think we should find the werewolf tracks first. Because they're one of your favorite animals.”
Before you could turn right down one of the paths, he brought his mouth close to your face. “That and I wouldn’t mind sinking my teeth in and leaving my mark on you.”
The breath rushed out of your lungs when you turned your head and caught the darkness in his eyes. His pupils were larger than normal as he stepped closer, almost backing you into the corn. “Is that right?”
“And you’ll let me,” he said, your heart racing as he leaned in. His kisses stole the breath from your lungs and your eyes slipped shut just before his lips touched yours. “Won’t you?”
“After we find the first set of tracks,” you whispered, pressing your hands to his chest so he’d back away.
He didn’t budge.
“Seriously, doll. Why haven’t I knocked you up yet?”
This again?
“I thought we were going to talk about that after we got out of here,” you reminded him, stepping to the side to go further down the path. “Where is this coming from anyway?”
“Been thinking about it for some time. I just haven’t said so,” he answered as he followed close behind. Was he afraid to say something before because it was too soon? That admitting it would scare you off? “Now that I'm talking about it, I can't stop.”
You were tempted to make a joke that there was something in his special cider sample making him talk. “You're serious about this?”
“You moved in with me. We love each other. I want a life with you. Of course, I'm serious.”
Glancing over your shoulder to find him watching you, you couldn’t help but smile. “I love you, too, Bucky,” you promised before you focused on the path again. You weren’t sure just how far the two of you had walked through. “But something like that is-”
You shrieked when Bucky spun you around by the shoulder, a wild look in his eyes before his mouth met yours in a persistent kiss. Compelling desire moved through you, but it didn’t matter how much you wanted him. The two of you were still in public. There were families around.
This wasn’t the time or place for this.
He broke the kiss before he shoved you almost painfully to your knees. He was never that forceful. “I’ll lose my mind if I’m not inside you.”
“Bucky, what the hell?!” you asked as he moved behind you and dropped to his knees, too. He yanked your pants and underwear down before you could stop him. Did you want to stop him? “We’re in a maze. What if someone catches us?”
He scoffed as he pushed you forward, forcing you to brace yourself with your hands. The cool breeze touched your exposed pussy, sending another chill down your spine. “You think I care if anyone catches us? I need you and they can’t stop me. They'll see that you're mine.”
The corn seemed to move in closer as you heard him unbuckle his belt, as if to give you some privacy. It had to be your mind playing tricks on you. “I'm already yours. Can you just slow down for a second?”
“I’m sorry, doll,” he swore, clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “I’m tired of waiting.”
Bucky sheathed you in one hard thrust, your cry smothered by his hand. You admitted to him once that he was the largest you’d ever had, which he both loved and hated. While it made him feel good that your ex-boyfriends weren’t as big as him, could never stretch you the way he could, he hated thinking of anyone else being inside you. He liked to remind you that no one else ever would be. And because of his size, he usually took great care in prepping you.
His need must’ve clouded him, the burn from the stretch more intense than usual.
“I’m sorry, doll. I don't know what's come over me. I can’t help myself,” he apologized again as if he sensed your discomfort, your cunt gripping his cock like a vice as you breathed through your nose. “But it’s okay. I’ll make you feel good. Just take me.”
You whined as he nearly pulled out completely and shoved himself back in as deep as he could go. That was your only warning before he set a steady pace, your hands fisting the dirt and your ears ringing as blood surged through your veins. It wasn’t long before your wetness coated his cock, the burn fading to pleasure from the friction. He fucked you before, but it was nothing like this. Bucky was like a man possessed. No, not even a man. More like a wild animal rutting into you, claiming you.
Where anyone could stumble along and find you.
“So soft. So warm,” he groaned, leaving sloppy kisses along your neck. “So fucking good.”
You tried to push yourself higher on your hands and knees for better support, but the force of his thrusts surged you forward. Removing his hand from your mouth, he placed it on the back of your neck as your cheek hit the dirt. The hold gave him leverage to fuck you deeper with your ass in the air. The soil felt cool in contrast to the hot palm against your skin.
“Better keep quiet,” he warned you, even as the angle sparked ecstasy within you. All you could do was bite your lip to try and keep the sounds in as much as possible. “Or do you want someone to catch me breeding you?”
“What?” you gasped, unable to lift your head as a new sensation hit you.
“You heard me,” he growled, draping himself over your back and maintaining his harsh pace as he breathed against your ear. “Gonna breed you. Gonna fucking drown your womb with my seed. ‘Cause you’re mine. All. Fucking. Mine.”
The sweet doting boyfriend you were used to was nowhere to be found as his cock wrecked your cunt. Was there something unexplainable causing him to act this way or had he been holding back? You would question him later. For now, you could only go limp as he fucked you into the dirt with vigor. And it felt good. You couldn't deny it.
“Gonna be so full of me. Fuck, you’ll look so beautiful carrying my baby,” he grunted, barely able to make out his words his thrusts increased in speed and strength. The slap of skin on skin filled the air and you almost had to cover your mouth yourself to stop your mewls. “Your belly round. Your tits nice and full. Might keep you knocked up so you remember who you belong to.”
The image of Bucky with his hand on your belly filled your mind, sending jolts of unexpected pleasure down to your toes. “I can’t take it, Bucky,” you gasped, even as you felt the tug of your building climax ready to snap. “It’s too much.”
With a deceptively soft kiss to your neck, followed by a small nuzzle, Bucky let out a deep moan. “You can take it. You always do ‘cause you’re mine. My good girl,” he rambled on as you whined, the wet slide of your pussy squeezing him tighter as you got closer. “Need to pump you full. Need your cunt to milk every drop from me. You want it. I know it. Come.”
You couldn’t hold on any longer, your fingers curling in the dirt again as you came with a cry. You were overwhelmed by the pure bliss, shocked at just how powerful your orgasm was. He hadn’t teased your clit, yet you gushed around him like he had. The squelching sound blended in with your whimpers as he fucked you through it.
Maybe you liked the idea of him breeding you more than you realized.
“That’s it, doll,” he groaned as he chased his release. “Take it. Every. Fucking. Drop.”
Bucky's rhythm faltered as his cock pulsed, spilling inside you with a growl. He kept his hips flush against yours as he breathed raggedly against your neck, keeping your bodies joined together for as long as he could. He didn’t move until he began to soften, making a whimper spill from your lips when he pulled out of you. His fingers quickly replaced his cock to keep his spend from sliding out of you.
“You okay, doll?” he asked, his voice still a touch of gruff mixed with softness. “I didn’t mean to be so rough.”
“Mmm,” was the only response you could give him.
It was like a switch had gone off as he helped you up, keeping you from collapsing as he got your underwear and pants up. He wiped as much of the dirt away with his hands as he could, softness in his eyes once again. Minus his disheveled hair, he looked fine. Like he hadn't just fucked you in the corn maze.
You two were lucky you hadn't gotten caught.
He hugged you as close as he could while you tried to make sense of his behavior. Whatever raging beast was inside him was satisfied for the time being. But what came over him?
Large hands framed your face as you tried to get your shaking under control. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” you mumbled.
“I’ll draw us a bath when we get home, okay? Get you cleaned up and make sure you aren't too sore,” he offered with a tender kiss to your lips. “After I throw out your birth control pills. You won’t need those anymore.”
So, how are we feeling? What do we think? Love and thanks for reading! 🧡
I think he'd go pretty far, nonnie! How about this?
Just a Dream
Pairing: Nick Fowler x Female Reader, Mention of Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: The stranger in your dreams seems familiar to you.
Word Count: Almost 1.1k
Warnings: No sexual content, but dubcon themes and manipulation (do not read if this upsets you), memory loss, Nick Fowler (he’s a warning, okay?).
A/N: This may become a thing if you lovelies are interested. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by @vase-of-lilies. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!
"Morning, Summer."
You groaned, but it didn't stop you from smiling. "Why do you call me that?"
"Because you're my warmth and my ray of light."
"That is SO cheesy," you giggled.
"I thought that was one of the things you loved about me."
A warm feeling spread in your chest as the handsome man in front of you placed his hand on your cheek. You were tempted to tuck some of the long, brown hair behind his ear. It was always so soft. "If you keep calling me Summer, I'm calling you Winter. It's only fair."
"Most people fear the winter," he whispered sadly, his metal fingers grazing your skin.
"I don't," you whispered, putting your hand over his. "Now go back to sleep, Winter. It's too early."
"You can call me whatever you want, but I don't want to go back to sleep," he swore as he leaned in, his steel blue eyes staring into yours. "And I'll give you a very good reason to stay awake..."
You opened your eyes before you felt the kiss on your mouth. Instead, you felt a pair of lips brush along your forehead. It pulled you further from the pleasant dream you just had… and away from your Winter.
Who is he? Do I know him?
You tilted your chin to look at the man holding you close. Instead of seeing long hair, you were greeted with the familiar short, dark hair that you often ran your fingers through. The steel blue eyes fresh in your mind didn't match the ocean blue staring intently into your own.
It somehow felt right and wrong all at once.
"Hey," Nick whispered, smiling as he wrapped his arms tighter around you. "Mmm. You're snuggly this morning. I like it."
"I can't help myself," you whispered back as you gazed at your husband.
You were lucky to have Nick Fowler in your life. Most days, you couldn't remember what things were like before he came along. It was like you fell in love with him overnight. The rest was… history. And it hurt your head some days to think too far back.
Your memory didn't used to be that bad.
And days like today when you had those dreams, things just felt off. It didn't make sense because you had no reason to question things. You had Nick. The two of you had a beautiful home together and a good life. He made you happy.
"I lost you, sweetheart."
You blinked quickly, as if to brush the feeling off. "Still waking up."
Nick touched your cheek, almost mimicking the action from your dream. His touch felt soothing, but the usual warmth you felt was missing. "You know I can tell when you're lying to me, right?"
You tried to look away, but it was difficult with him so close. "I'm fine. Just… a weird dream," you said nonchalantly.
"Tell me about it," he urged.
"It's hard to explain," you began because you knew he wouldn't let it go. "Have you ever had a dream that's so vivid it almost has to be real? That you couldn't possibly imagine the details? Like a place or a… person?"
Nick slowly shook his head. "No. I mean, I've had vivid dreams, but that's all they are. Dreams," he answered, his hand sliding to grip your chin. "Wait, did you dream about someone? Another man? Should I be jealous?"
You gently shoved his chest at his semi-teasing tone, his hand falling away. "No reason to be jealous. You're my one and only," you promised as you sat up.
But those steel blue eyes flashed in your mind at your words. An icy stare. Like winter.
"Like you're mine," he said as he sat up, too, and took your hand. "But you still didn't answer my question."
You weren't sure how to answer him. Yes, you dreamt of someone… but it hurt to remember and you didn't know why. "I dreamt about a man who called me Summer."
You glanced down where your hands were joined when you felt the tiniest squeeze, his wedding ring digging into your skin. "Summer?" he repeated, confusion in his tone. "I don't think I've heard anyone call you that."
"I don't suppose you've met anyone with a metal arm either," you teased, but there was a glimmer of hope as you looked at him.
Why am I longing for a dream?
His eyes narrowed as he regarded you, making you squirm slightly under his stare. "No, I haven't, but this dream man of yours sounds like a catch," he said softly enough that it almost masked the bitterness.
The look he continued to give you brought a wave of inexplicable guilt. You had no reason to feel bad. And you felt strangely protective of the man in the back of your mind. "Why are you upset?"
"Because the love of my life is dreaming about another man. Makes me wonder if I'm doing something wrong," he said, brushing his thumb along your hand.
Hearing that did make you feel bad. "You're not doing anything wrong. I love you," you promised. "It was just a dream."
So, why does Winter feel so real?
The corner of his lips tugged into a smile, making you relax as he brushed his nose against yours. "I love you, too. Like you said, it was just a dream. I have no reason to worry," he said with finality. "And I may not have a metal arm, but I know how to make my wife feel good," he added before he kissed you.
You let yourself get lost in the feel of him for a moment as he put his hand on the back of your head. You had to shake the dream off. Nick was real and you loved him. "Yes, you do. But I need to shower," you told him before you let yourself get carried away.
"I'll join you," he smirked, kissing the tip of your nose. "Just need to make a quick work call."
"Don't take too long," you said, pulling away and stretching as you stood up.
"Don't get started without me," he winked as you headed to the bathroom.
"Then hurry up," you smiled over your shoulder.
I can't dwell on a dream, right?
You didn't see the smile disappear from Nick's face as you shut the door, his lips set in a thin line as he grabbed his phone and waited for the sound of the water to drown out the possibility of you hearing him. "She's starting to remember. Fix it."
Pairing: Club Owner!Nick Fowler x Female Reader, Bouncer!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Nick Fowler x Female Reader x Bucky Barnes
Summary: Nick wants what Bucky has.
Word Count: Over 1.7k
Warnings: Dubcon (please do not read if this upsets you), explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), threesome, spitroasting, power dynamics, possessive behavior, jealousy, slight gun play, porn with some feels (it’s me), Nick Fowler and Bucky Barnes (they are warnings, okay?).
A/N: Nightclub AU! I know I have these two men in a couple of other fics, but I enjoy their dynamic. Beta read by the beautiful @sweeterthanthis who let me spitball this with her ( and @sgt-seabass, thank you, lovely), but any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by @its-just-may. Moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment if you feel inclined!
The beat from the music downstairs vibrated through the walls as Nick sat in his chair. The burn of the whiskey did little to soothe him as he finished his glass, his eyes fixated on your face as you shut your eyes. No, that wouldn’t do. He wanted you to look at him. Needed your gorgeous eyes on him, so you could see what was coming next.
Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky isn't a man to be crossed.
Word Count: Over 3.2k
Warnings: Brief explicit sexual content, swearing, violence, mentions of trafficking and dark themes, mob!Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?).
A/N: Expanding the world of A Price to Pay and I can't wait to share more. ❤️ Beta read by the beautiful @dreamlessinparis, but any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by @maysdigitalarts and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!
You didn't know who Bucky Barnes was when he came into your life, but you recognized a lethal man when you saw one. Dangerous, enticing, confident. The jawline for days and soft brown hair added to his allure. You smiled when he walked toward you, earning you a wicked smirk in return when you didn't flinch under his stare. You weren't a wilting flower.
Even if his piercing gaze was the most intimidating you had ever seen.
You were still entranced by his blue eyes as his large, powerful frame invaded your space. You hadn’t even noticed his left hand was metal until he wrapped it around your wrist. It had been a test to see how you'd react to his touch.
You took a step closer.
You passed.
"You shouldn't be here."
Those weren't the words you expected, the deep timbre of his voice rolling along your skin over the music. Your friend managed to get your name on the VIP list for the new club in town, but maybe you weren't welcome. You weren't, however, about to let this man throw you out. His suit was too sharp for a bouncer.
It didn't matter what job he had. You wanted him. When you wanted something, or someone, you stood your ground. And you wanted nothing more than to chase away the shadows in his eyes and replace them with fire.
"And where should I be? Your bed?”
Fingertips brushed against your throat before his thumb caressed your lips. A flicker of a flame ignited in his eyes when you sucked the digit into your mouth, watching the fire grow as you swirled your tongue around it. His grip tightened a fraction on your wrist. Could he feel how fast your heart was beating?
"Why don't we start with my lap, doll?"
Bucky didn't wait until you were back at his place to fuck you, pulling you into the lush office so you wouldn't be disturbed. Bracing your hands on his shoulders, your cries resonated in the room as you rode him. It wasn't the thrill of fucking a stranger that had you so aroused. It was him.
You were addicted from the start.
"Fuck, that's it. Take me. Keep my cock nice and wet."
His release trickled down your thighs when he took you to his car minutes later and you prayed he'd fuck you again soon. Two men who looked almost as intimidating as Bucky stood beside it, not sparing you a glance as the door opened. It wasn't smart to leave with him, but curiosity got the better of you.
"Who are you?"
"You really wanna know?"
Bucky told you he co-owned the club with his best friend, Steve Rogers, but didn't tell you the rest right away. You didn't hold that against him. He had to make sure you wouldn't be another fling, after all. Or a honey pot.
Trust is gained and loyalty is returned.
Many late nights and early mornings helped bring you closer together. You opened up to him, often falling asleep in his arms after deep conversations. It was something you hadn't done since your ex-boyfriend, Nick. You learned a lot about him, too. His dreams, hopes, even his fears.
He fell in love.
So did you.
"You're my world, doll."
You're my everything.
Love wasn't the problem. He was romantic, but didn't take you out often. When he did, it was completely private. No prying eyes. You hadn't met most of his friends nor any of his family. You wondered if he was ashamed of you.
You did let him fuck you raw the night you met.
For a brief time, you wondered if you were his dirty, little secret. But if you knew anything about Bucky, it was that he was loyal. He would never cheat on you.
You asked him one evening if he saw a future with you. If he did, something had to give. If he didn't, you could walk away. You wouldn't feel whole again if you left, but you'd do your best to be strong. The stricken look he gave you when you mentioned leaving broke your heart.
"I'm one of the most dangerous men in the city."
The man you fell in love with came from one of the most powerful mob families not just in the city, but in the world. The club was one of the many businesses he had his hands in, some that stretched as far away as Russia. He earned a reputation and respect, along with money and power.
With all of that came enemies.
It was one of the reasons why he tried to protect you in the beginning of your relationship. Desperation often led to people getting hurt or worse. If anything happened to you, he’d set the world on fire. Instead of running away when you learned who he was and what he did, which is what he expected, you stood by him.
"You're still a good man. I still love you."
Always.
Bucky kept you tied to the bed that night, leaving you dizzy with pleasure until you were nothing but a whimpering, writhing mess beneath him. The sheets were ruined, soaked with your juices and sweat as you lost count of how many orgasms he gave you. He admitted as he cleaned you up that he never would’ve let you go if you walked away. Fucked out and exhausted, you smiled.
“You’re stuck with me, James.”
He knew you meant business when you used his first name.
Unlike some of the spouses and lovers Bucky’s associates had, you requested to know at least the minimum ins and outs of his true business. He didn’t like that at first. Knowing too much was another way you could get hurt. He told you that as you argued, tying you to the bed again once he dragged you there.
“EVERYTHING I do is to protect you, doll. It’s too fucking dangerous for you to get involved!”
“How do you think I feel when you go out there every day? Let me help you!”
He tried to distract you with his cock, his pace brutal and deep enough to make you choke on your breath. It almost worked. Trembling with each thrust, you accepted his frenzy, but grew more determined to stay by his side in every aspect. It was an argument he wouldn't win.
"You're not backing down, are you?"
"No, but you'll keep me safe, Bucky. We'll keep each other safe."
"Then be my queen."
The wedding ceremony was small and intimate, which is what you both wanted. You fell in love even more when he said "I do", proud to take his last name. Steve swore he never saw him look so happy and warned you to never break his heart.
"You don't trust me, Steve?"
"I trust you. I also know he'd destroy the city if you ever hurt him. Or if he lets you get hurt."
Your home was well protected and bodyguards Bucky selected were willing to lay down their lives for you. To appease him, you didn't involve yourself in all of his dealings. There had to be some separation of business and pleasure. Anything that potentially hurt your husband though, you expected to be alerted.
Which was why you were at the meeting tonight.
You were the only woman in the room, your guards keeping an eye on the men at the table. They may have been Bucky's associates, but their job was to protect you above all else. You half expected to see Steve's new girl, only because he didn't want her out of his sight. Knowing him, he wanted to shield her from this part of his world. The girl already went through enough with her asshole ex.
She has a good man now, like I do.
"Wasn't expecting to see you tonight," Lance Tucker said, making a show of biting his lip as you brought a drink over to Bucky at the head of the table.
Your husband never liked the ex-athlete. Too arrogant and predatory. He had a good read on people and the clean-cut appearance didn't fool him. He only allowed him to be close to keep an eye on him.
"I asked her to be here," Bucky told him, offering his hand to help you sit in his lap. You wore a short, black dress to match his suit and didn't mind it riding up as you got comfortable. The men knew better than to look. "If anyone has a problem with that, say so."
"No, boss," the men said in unison.
"No problem at all," Lance grinned.
"Good," Bucky didn't smile back as his fingertips brushed along your neck and upper back. To anyone else, the gesture appeared to be one of possession. The truth was, having his hands on you in some way grounded him.
“I must say, Barnes” Lance began, leaning back in his chair as he stared at your chest. “I don’t know how you get anything done. If she were mine, I’d never let her off my cock.”
Bucky’s hand stilled for a moment on the back of your neck. The other men glanced at their boss, waiting with bated breath to see what he would do. Before he could open his mouth, you straightened your back and smiled.
“It’s too bad for you that I’m his and always will be.”
“Only here for eye candy?" Lance raised an eyebrow. "You sure you don’t mind letting me have a taste?”
“I’m not really good about sharing,” Bucky said with a harsh stare. "And my wife is much more than eye candy, so you better show her some respect."
“We don’t really need to beat around the bush, do we?” Steve interjected. He didn’t appreciate small talk during meetings like these. “I think you know why you’re here.”
Lance nodded. “I do. I had a feeling you’d call me.”
“So, you’re aware that one of the locations you moved to is right outside of my territory?” Bucky asked. “And you’ve been making a nice profit.”
Lance smirked, shrugging a little. “I was in debt. I saw the opportunity and I took it. Nothing wrong with that.”
“When it undermines my husband, there is something wrong with that,” you argued, though you didn’t raise your voice.
“I don’t recall asking for your opinion. So unless he plans to shove his cock in your mouth to shut you up-”
“Watch how you speak to my wife,” Bucky said in a low voice. You knew he was tempted to shoot him and be done with it. "I won't tell you again."
You placed a hand on his thigh to quell his anger. “As entertaining as that would be for all of you and fun for me,” you pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’m going to keep talking and you are going to listen.”
Lance crossed a leg over his knee as he leaned back in his chair, gesturing with his hand. “By all means.”
“Back to what I said about undermining my husband,” you began as everyone listened. Bucky hung on your every word, too, because he wouldn’t dare disrespect his queen. “Now, you operate just outside of his territory. Bold and a bit insulting, but you didn’t break any rules by doing so. I can respect that.”
“Glad you can give respect where it’s due,” he agreed.
“But you did break the rules when you began to poach girls from The Tower,” you told him, holding out your hand. Joaquin was there within seconds, handing you a folder.
Lance’s smirk stayed plastered on his face, but a flash of fear flickered before he could hide it. “People switch places all the time.”
“The girls were paid well and the clients were good to them, so you must have offered them something more. You may have even taken a couple against their will. Poaching them takes money out of the club, which takes money out of my husband’s pocket.”
“That’s not what-”
“Not to mention, one of the things Bucky and Steve pride themselves on is the safety of any person working in their clubs. That includes their dancers. They’re just trying to make a living and deserve respect like everyone else. And a few of those girls have gone missing.”
"The city's an expensive place to live. They probably took off."
"Or you sold them," you guessed, sliding the folder across the table. "Before you deny it, you might want to take a look in there."
You didn't have to tell the rest of the men what the pictures contained as Lance opened the folder, visibly getting pale as he flipped through it. There were photos of him and different girls, at multiple angles, going into the same building. The poor things never came out.
"You're selling those girls," Bucky stated, his voice laced with anger. No amount of coaxing or distracting would calm him down. Trafficking was an arena he refused to touch. Not with the kind of past his old friend, Natasha, had. "You son of a bitch."
"You're not smart enough to pull this off by yourself," Steve mused. He read his friend well and knew he was close to snapping. "And we know Ransom isn't working with you. Give us a name."
Lance shoved the folder away with a sneer. "Those photos don't prove shit."
"That isn't a name," Steve said.
"I guess it isn't."
You refrained from pinching the bridge of your nose. Bucky and Steve weren't men to be crossed. They had rules in place for a reason, but people still pushed.
"We're giving you a chance to do this the right way, which is more than what you deserve," Steve said as you rubbed Bucky's thigh. The muscles relaxed slightly under your palm, but he still felt too tense for your liking. "Otherwise, we can take you to the basement and sort this out."
"The basement? Wait a fucking minute!"
"Give us a name." Steve didn't like to repeat himself.
Neither did your husband.
"Didn't you poach your girl from Ransom? Yeah, we know all about that. Don't act like you're better than me," Lance snapped, panic filling his eyes when Steve reached for his gun. You didn't blame him. The situations weren't the same. "I can't give you a name! They'll kill me."
"They? Who are they?" Bucky demanded, pushing his chair back and gesturing for you to stand. He stood up after you, putting his body between you and Lance. Even though he was across the table, he was keeping you safe in case he tried anything. You also knew he was trying to deflect the attention away from Steve. "Answer. Me."
"Wait!" he pleaded, putting his hands up when your bodyguards grabbed his gun and took aim. "Don't shoot me. The girls are just for extra cash, but one of them is after your wife!"
All eyes were on you as the words echoed along the walls. "After me?" you asked.
Who would be dumb enough to go after me?
"He doesn't want to sell you. He wants to keep you. I heard one of the movers talk about it," Lance swallowed a little before he continued. "The guys are some kind of agents or ex-agents. CIA, FBI, I don't fucking know. This dude's obsessed from what I've heard."
You gripped Bucky's arm hard enough to make him glance back at you. "Is his name Nick?"
When the brunette refused to answer, Bucky gave one of the guards a single nod. You didn't wince when Lance got a hard punch to the mouth. You witnessed a lot worse.
"Fuck!" Lance spit a bit of blood on the table. "Yes! His fucking name is Nick! Nick Fowler. Don't fucking hit me again!"
You closed your eyes, guilt and a bit of fear flooding you. Nick, your ex-boyfriend, was a crooked CIA agent. You admittedly had a thing for dangerous men, but the difference between Bucky and Nick was that your husband didn't enjoy hurting people. Nick, however, would kill anyone to get ahead. He was furious when you broke it off, but you got as far away from him as you could. You never expected to see or hear from him again.
Did he target Bucky's girls because of me? Hurting me by hurting them?
"It's okay, doll," Bucky whispered. He knew all about your ex. You kept no secrets from your husband. "Nick hasn't been in the city. My men would have alerted me."
The unspoken threat of retaliation hung in the air, a warning to anyone who even thought of betraying him.
"He isn't here. He sent an 'associate'. Look, I got greedy. I'll stop poaching the girls. Just let me leave."
“Bucky,” you whispered, your nails grazing under his chin as you made him look at you. Touching him grounded you, too. “Did this man insult you?”
“He did.”
“Did he betray your trust?”
"He did," he repeated.
"Then do what you need to do," you told him.
I'll stand beside you.
“Lance, you gained a seat at this table and you repaid that favor by sticking your hand in my pocket. I can forgive that."
"I said-"
"You put innocent poor girls through hell for your own gain. I can't forgive that so easily."
Lance's jaw clenched when Steve pointed his gun at his head.
"And you knew this man planned to go after my wife," the frost in Bucky's voice made you shiver. "I demand payment."
"G-Give me a few days and I'll get your money for all the girls you lost," Lance offered.
Bucky tilted his head a fraction. "You can pay your debt in blood."
Steve aimed lower and fired, the silencer masking the sound, before Lance screamed. Blood seeped through his fingers as he gripped his shoulder, getting paler by the second. "Fucker! I hope he gets your new fucktoy, too!"
He cried out again when the guards yanked him up to pull him from the room. You knew they'd take him to the basement. After that comment, Steve might pay a personal visit.
It was nice knowing you, Lance.
"Have Natasha check the club. Make sure the girls are safe. Get us an update on Nick. We need to know who he's been talking to and what his next move is. And get what you can out of Lance," Steve ordered, his tone leaving no room to argue as the men got to work. His girl didn't work at the club, but you knew he'd check on her to be on the safe side.
Bucky would've given the order himself, but he was too preoccupied with you. The news frightened you more than you cared to admit. "I won't let him get you, doll. You hear me?" he asked, gripping your chin so you'd look into his eyes.
Where there used to be ice, there was fire.
"I hear you and I trust you," you whispered before he kissed you, the wedding band against your skin a reminder that you weren't alone.
The queen to his king.
No one, outside of Bucky's closest friend, ever put as much faith in him as you did. While he may have been a wolf to some, you were never his prey. You'd hunt beside him.
Even when Nick would try to take you away.
Let him try. Because if he lays a finger on me, Bucky will burn his world to the ground.
He's not stalking you, he's looking after you, baby
Oh, is he?
Follow You Home
Pairing: Soft!Bucky Barnes x Florist!Female Reader
Summary: Bucky just wants to see you smile when he visits you at the flower shop.
Word Count: Over 1.9k
Warnings: (S)talking, (c)reepy behavior, talk of (v)iolence and (d)eath, (s)exual thoughts, delusion, obsession, homeboy has issues (still love him), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Future fics for this AU will venture into (d)arker territory.
Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @rookthorne.
A/N: For @springdandelixn's Double-Trouble Sleepover (featuring flowers) and @darkficsyouneveraskedfor's Mini March Challenge ((s)talking, ribbon, plaid shirt). ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
A sense of serenity and calm washed over Bucky Barnes as he walked into the flower shop. The fragrance and colors almost overwhelmed him the first time he went in, but he learned to adjust. One of the only blessings of the trauma he experienced is that he could be extremely adaptable when the occasion called for it. Now he craved the sweet scent that surrounded him.
The way he craved you.
“Hi, Bucky,” you called from behind the counter. “Right on time.”
Like when he saw you the first time, he stared at you for far too long. He was still too intrigued to care if you caught him. Unlike most people around him, you never cowered under his gaze. You always greeted him with a smile which was enough to make his heart skip a beat.
Even if your smile didn’t reach your eyes today.
Still beautiful. Still mine.
“Thanks,” he said, taking a quick look around as he made his way to the counter where his flowers were waiting. “I brought you something.”
“Let me guess?” you asked, your smile still not as bright as normal. “A candy bar because I’m so sweet?”
Sweet enough to melt on my tongue.
“What gave it away?” he asked, handing it over with a small smile of his own. He could have set it on the counter, but he liked having an excuse for his fingers to brush against yours. “One day I might switch it up on you.”
“No, this is nice,” you said, sniffling. “Thank you.”
I’m reliable. Dependable.
Predictability had a way of putting some at ease. It communicated stability, safety, and security. He made sure you knew exactly what time he’d be at the shop and on which day. He always purchased the same flowers. Always brought the same wrapped candy after you commented one day that you craved it.
You'll crave me the way I crave you.
“Beautiful,” he said as he inspected the small bouquet and took a moment to steal a glance at you. Not that he needed to look over the arrangement. They were perfect every time, right down to the perfect ribbon bow to hold them together. “Mrs. Bradshaw will love them.”
Every week he bought a small bouquet of tulips for his elderly neighbor. She didn’t have many people to look out for her, so he checked in whenever he could. In some ways, she reminded him of Rebecca. Or at least what he thought Rebecca would be like if he got to see her grow up. Maybe it was why he felt the need to protect her.
He felt the need to protect you, too.
Just not from myself.
“It’s nice that you do that,” you said, ringing them up with another quiet sniffle.
“I don’t mean to pry, but is everything okay?” he asked, putting the change in the small bowl by the register.
“Just not a great day,” you tried to brush off.
“Bad customer? I don’t mind taking care of them. Just tell me who,” he offered.
A man screamed at you weeks ago over the cost of flowers for his wedding. You explained that he was receiving a discount and the price was agreed upon, but it wasn’t good enough for the jerk. You threw him out after he shattered one of your vases.
Bucky shattered one of his knees.
I’m not a bad man.
“No, it wasn’t a bad customer,” you said, your eyes misty as you reached for the candy bar and changed your mind.
"You can talk to me," he urged, placing his hand on yours long enough to provide comfort without being uncomfortable. "I'm your friend, right?"
I'm actually more than that.
"Yeah," you nodded, taking a deep breayhy. “You know my boyfriend?”
Bucky didn’t say anything for a moment. When his slight obsession with you began, he found out everything he could. While it didn't surprise him that you had a boyfriend, it disappointed him. Especially when he discovered that he was a decent man. Always friendly when he visited the shop. Even kept your place nice and tidy when he stopped by.
It was a feat Bucky didn't break every single one of his fingers for touching you.
“Yeah, I know of him.”
“He dumped me. Through a text,” you said as more tears welled up. “Just said we were through. No explanation. When I tried to call him, he blocked me."
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, his voice filled with sympathy as he grabbed a pack of tissues from his jacket pocket.
"My stuff was in a box this morning, waiting in front of my door," you went on. "I thought things were going great between us. Not too fast or too slow, but I guess I was wrong. Maybe he was seeing someone else."
"If he was, he's an idiot,” he said, itching to walk around the counter to hug you. It broke his heart to see you upset. “They can't see someone as perfect as you when they have you right in front of them.”
“I’m not perfect,” you argued, dabbing your eyes with the tissue. “Look at me. I’m crying in the middle of the shop.”
“You’re perfect to me,” he said.
In every way.
"Thanks, Bucky. You've always been very kind."
“It’s the other way around,” he said, clearing his throat. “And I appreciate it more than you know.”
Because of Bucky’s past, he did his best to blend in most days. As a man forced to do bad things against his will, the truth behind his actions didn’t matter to some. They had their minds made up about him and would never trust him because of what he did.
Do people feel better by making me a villain?
But one day, while he was out trying to make amends, he spotted you helping a homeless man on the sidewalk. He had seen him before. Most passed him without a second glance, but you crouched down and checked on him. You even gave him a bit of food you had on you and some money.
“I wish I could give you more, but that’s all I have,” you said.
The man nearly cried with gratitude. No one else cared, but you did. That was when you spotted Bucky looking your way. He could avoid being seen if he wished, but part of him wanted you to notice him. If you recognized him, in a good or bad way, you didn’t show it. You merely smiled, gave him a friendly nod, and walked on.
As if you hadn’t changed his life.
Bucky didn’t mean to follow you at first, but he had to make sure you got to wherever you were going safely. He didn't want anything bad to happen to you. Besides, a gaze between the two of you wasn't enough to leave him satisfied. Once he squashed his curiosity and made sure you were okay, he thought he’d leave you be.
He was wrong.
The second he walked into the shop and saw you again, he knew you had to be his.
“You’re caring and strong. You deserve kindness and respect,” he told you, wondering if the depths of his feelings showed in his eyes. “Someone who will love and cherish you for who you are.”
“I might cry again,” you smiled.
It reached your eyes this time.
“I’m just glad you’re smiling again,” he said. It would be beautiful to wake up to it each day. He was going to make that happen.
“Is it okay if I ask for a hug?”
“Sure,” he said, opening his arms.
You moved around the counter and leaned into him with a sigh. He smiled as he held you, feeling a warmth inside of him that he hadn’t felt since before he met you. He imagined many times how he’d make you shiver with need once he had his hands on you and it took strength not to stretch you out on the counter.
Just like it took him strength not to touch you in your home.
Watching wasn’t enough. It never was. He’d have you in his bed soon.
Where you belong.
“It’s probably for the best. I think he was stealing some of my panties,” you said against his shoulder before you gasped. “Oh, my god! I shouldn’t have told you that. I’m so sorry.”
Bucky loved the feel of your satin underwear around his cock. It was easy to imagine how wet they’d be against your pussy as he teased you. Not that you’d wear underwear much once he had you. Maybe he’d keep you in one of his Henley’s. Or a plaid shirt so he could rip it open. Or little sundresses so he could push them up around your hips.
So many options.
“Don’t be sorry,” he smiled when you kept your face hidden. “I’m glad you’re comfortable with me.”
As you should be.
“Thank you, Bucky,,” you said, lifting your head and gazing at him. "You're a good guy."
"I'm trying to be," he whispered, holding you a bit tighter before he let you go.
If anything, he'd be good to you.
"Here," you said as you pulled away and grabbed the largest red rose in the shop. “You should find someone special to give this to. I think they’d be very lucky.”
“Yeah, I think I will,” he said as a couple walked through the door. “I should let you help them. Is it okay if I see you tomorrow? Just in case you need a friend."
"I'd like that," you smiled.
"I'll see you later then," he smiled back.
“Bye. Thanks again."
Bucky left the rose next to the candy bar when you weren't looking and walked out the door with his tulips in hand. He’d have to explain to Mrs. Bradshaw that he’d be moving shortly. His new home was ready. A place outside of the city. Quiet. Secluded.
Perfect for the two of you.
Bucky was going to take great pleasure in the two of you christening every room of the place. He'd even fill the rooms with roses and other flowers to show how special you are. You deserved beauty in your home.
He frowned when he suddenly thought of your tears. Your now ex-boyfriend hadn't seen him coming. As much as part of him hated that he ever touched you, had been inside you, he didn't want to cause an innocent man pain. Not when his only crime was that he wanted you.
I just wanted you more.
He almost felt guilty for sending the text and blocking your number. He felt even worse when he remembered how the light left his eyes. That feeling went away when he boxed up your things. It had to be done.
No one would find the body.
Maybe I am a villain, but I'll be your hero, too.
Once Bucky saw you home safely tonight, he’d wait until after midnight to make his move. He did say he'd see you tomorrow. He’d show you how easy it is to break into your place undetected and bring you to your new home. A place where he could keep you safe from a world that didn’t deserve your kindness.
He didn’t have a choice or control over his life in years past, but he did now. He chose to take back control. To begin again.
Starting with you.
And who better to love and protect you than the former Winter Soldier?
You'll love your new home, right? Bucky thinks so. Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Pairing: BFD/DBF!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky is your friend's dad and your dad's friend and nothing more. Until he isn't.
Word Count: Over 6.2k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), semi-public sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, light Daddy kink, age gap (reader is in early 20's and Bucky late 40's), arguing, light violence, swearing, conflicted reader (everything is consensual!), everyone is a mess, Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?).
A/N: Woohoo! Stepped out of my comfort zone a bit on this and I'm so proud! Thank you to @sweeterthanthis , @dreamlessinparis , @buckyownsmylife, @targaryenvampireslayer , @christywantspizza , @sgt-seabass , @lookiamtrying for listening to me ramble about this. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you as well), but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
***Any soft!dark undertones are unintentional as everything is consensual.***
You met Bethany Barnes your freshman year of college. While some of the girls on your floor knew each other, you went off to university not knowing a soul and had to be assigned a roommate. Your nerves shot up when you walked into the shared room. Beth, as she preferred to be called, was intimidatingly beautiful. You hadn't met any supermodels, but she could've chosen that as her profession with her tall, slender build, long auburn hair, and sparkling blue eyes.
Your nervousness faded when she smiled and gave you a hug, after asking if it was okay.
"You're here!" she smiled more when she pulled away, looking over your shoulder at who you thought was your dad. "By the closet."
You weren't normally stunned silent by looking at a person, but that was what happened when you met James "Bucky" Barnes. With the beard and quiet confidence in which he carried himself, you would've mistaken him for a professor had it not been for the fact that he was in the dormitory. Call it instant attraction or lust, but you found yourself openly staring at the handsome man as he carried a box into the room. He gazed at you, too, or so you thought. Your mind may have been playing tricks on you.
"Dad, quit staring at my roommate. That's weird."
The needle on the record scratched. Her dad. You could see where she got her good looks. He was taller and broader, his hair dark brown instead of auburn, and eyes a deeper shade of blue. One of the hottest men to ever grace the earth, if anyone asked for your opinion.
It didn't matter how good looking he was. This was Beth's dad. It put him in the "look, but don't touch" column.
Your dad, Dave, appeared moments later and introduced himself. Bucky was kind enough to help him with the rest of your stuff and even offered to buy lunch. While he didn't look the least bit upset about leaving, it was clear your dad was having a tough time holding it together and even had tears in his eyes. You understood. It was the two of you for so long and now you were out the door.
Beth put a hand on his arm and gave him a small smile to ease his worries.
"Hey. Your daughter and I will look out for each other, okay? You have nothing to worry about. Plus, I think we're going to be good friends."
She was right.
To your surprise, you discovered that Beth only lived about an hour away from your hometown. Like you, Beth didn't know anyone, but she was friendly and welcoming. Definitely more outgoing than you would ever be. Her popularity grew quickly, but the two of you were there for each other like she promised. While you had lost your mother, hers took off when she was so young she couldn't even remember her face. Bucky did the best he could to raise her. Like your dad had done for you.
Maybe that was why they became such good friends, too.
The two of you traded off different weekends at each other's houses when you left campus and spent a few holidays together. You did a couple of summer trips with your dads doing their best not to be overbearing. Eventually Beth joined a sorority and moved into the chapter's house, so you no longer lived together. Bucky suggested that your dad move closer to his place when he decided to sell the house, that way everyone could still spend time together.
"You wouldn't mind, would you?" your dad asked at the time.
You didn't at the time. It still gave everyone a chance to hang out and your dad seemed to need it more than you. He admired Bucky for being self-made, having a nice house, and a good job. It was as if the man's confidence rubbed off on him. He began to dress better and get in shape. He mentioned possibly dating again, which you encouraged. Your dad deserved to be happy.
You couldn't have predicted it would all go to hell after graduation.
You nursed your wine as you sat at the bar, staring into the abyss of the liquid as you swirled it around. Maybe if you looked long enough, you'd forget about tonight. It should have been an evening of celebration for you. Nothing major, but it was something that meant the world to you.
"I think you need something stronger."
You stayed silent when you turned to your right, slightly surprised when you saw none other than Bucky take a seat beside you. The citrus scent of his cologne filled your nostrils when he moved his stool close enough that your knees touched. Up close, even with the dim bar lightning, you could see the gray hairs in his trimmed beard and perfectly coiffed brown hair. Of all the people you expected to see, he certainly wasn't one of them.
"What are you doing here?" you asked.
"I thought you could use a friend."
"Are we friends?" You asked softly.
Hurt flashed in his eyes, which filled you with guilt. "I thought we were."
You weren't sure if you would label Bucky as a friend, but you cared for the man. He had been good to you over the years, staying up with you and watching movies when you couldn't sleep or listening to you ramble on about your papers, internship, resume, while Beth pampered herself. He gave advice when you asked and listened when you only wanted to talk.
You didn't need to be rude to him.
"We are," you wanted to assure him and you felt a bit better when his shoulders relaxed. "How did you even know where to find me?"
"You rushed off before dinner started and you mentioned that you liked this place," he replied, like it was obvious. "We were supposed to be celebrating. We didn't get all dressed up for nothing," he teased, gesturing to himself and drawing your attention to his large body as you smiled a little.
Over the last few years, you got used to seeing different looks from him. Jeans and shirts tight enough to see the muscles underneath, sweatpants that hung low enough to let the imagination wander, swim trunks when you went on vacation, and even the occasional suit. He opted for a dark blue suit tonight that matched his eyes, but skipped the tie. It wasn't a look many could pull off and he did it with ease.
You blinked and shook your head, trying not to pay attention to how good he looked. Just because you were upset didn't mean you had a right to check him out. It was wrong to be attracted to him and you refused to acknowledge it. Mainly because he was one of your dad's best friends and one of your best friend's dads.
No, she's not my best friend. Not anymore.
“We even kind of match,” he smiled to himself.
You glanced down at your short, sleeveless dress. It wasn’t revealing or flashy, but you felt beautiful in it. The shade of blue was close to his suit. Part of you felt silly for dressing up for a simple dinner.
"I guess we do," you said softly, looking at your glass again.
“Surprised the boys aren’t lining up for a chance with you,” he said.
You snorted, thankful you didn’t take a sip of your wine. You would’ve spit it out. “The boys have never lined up for me, but it’s okay. I’m used to it.”
Boys usually talked to you to get closer to Beth.
“Their loss,” Bucky said sincerely as he held up a couple of fingers for the bartender.
“And we have nothing to celebrate,” you said, not wanting to dwell on your sad dating history.
"Bullshit," he said, ordering two shots of whiskey and setting some money on the counter once the bartender came over. "You got a job at Stark Industries. I'm proud of you."
Your cheeks heated at the praise. "Thank you," you said, sparing him a glance when he passed you a glass. "I already have a drink.”
“And I said it isn’t strong enough,” he hesitated as he picked up his own. “Beth said you weren’t much of a drinker. Not even on your 21st birthday. You were a good girl, weren’t you?”
You were conflicted as you listened. Did Bucky mean for that to be an innuendo? You chose to focus on Beth instead, and how angry you felt. How many nights did you hold her hair back while she puked?
“You're right. We should celebrate."
Bucky gave you a worried look as you picked up your drink.
Your cheeks ached from your wide smile. "To my dad and your daughter fucking each other. Cheers!"
You might as well address the elephant in the room since he wouldn't.
He frowned when you downed the shot, the burn spreading from the back of your throat to your chest. You half expected him to see a clench in his jaw or an embarrassed blush in his cheeks, but he merely threw his drink back and slammed the glass down when he finished. "You sure you don't want to do another toast? I don't think the entire bar heard you."
"Oh, I wouldn't want to make a scene. I did that already, remember?"
You hadn't seen Beth in months since you graduated. Neither of you landed dream jobs right away, but you did find temporary work to help cover the rent for your new place. You wanted to be independent and your dad supported you. But your friend hadn’t even seen your place.
Any time you reached out to meet up, she made an excuse why she couldn't join you or bailed at the last minute if she agreed. At first, you didn't take any offense. You figured she met a guy. She got like that sometimes over boys, but she had never gone that long without hanging out with you.
Maybe she had outgrown you after college.
Your dad sensed that you missed Beth and assured you that you'd see her soon. He planned a special dinner to celebrate you getting a job at Stark Industries. Beth promised she wouldn't miss it. You thought it was strange how easily she accepted your dad's invitation, but you discovered quickly that she wasn't there for you in the first place.
"Sweetie," your dad began as he slipped an arm around Beth's waist. "We have something we want to talk to you about. Beth and I are, well, we're seeing each other. Now I know that may be difficult to hear, especially since I haven't seen anyone serious since your mother, but…"
Your dad used to describe you as amicable and well-behaved when someone asked him about his daughter. No matter what life threw your way, you did your best to be friendly and stay out of trouble. It could have been before your mother was always kind and you did your best to follow in her footsteps. It often meant putting the needs of others before your own, but it never bothered you.
Until tonight.
Until you saw the ring on Beth's finger.
Beth, the girl who flashed boys from her sorority house window and blew off studying. The same girl who cried with you on the anniversary of your mom's death. She was going to marry your dad.
A slow moving storm began to swirl in your mind. You managed to hear your dad say that they began seeing each other the night of graduation and promised it wasn't sooner. It explained why Beth had blown you off all that time. They were trying to figure out how to tell you, but all they did was lie.
Outrage was a foreign feeling to you and you didn't know how to channel it. Were you supposed to scream? Cry? All you knew was that it clawed at your insides until it broke free.
Whatever you yelled was enough to make your dad step back in shock and Beth grab your arm to drag you outside. The porch light illuminated her enough to see the anger etched on her face. You didn't even recognize her.
"What the fuck? You've been fucking my dad?!" you yelled, snatching your arm back from her.
"Yeah, I'm fucking your dad!" she yelled back.
"How did this even happen?!" you demanded to know, immediately regretting asking a second later.
"After your graduation dinner, we were drinking and I said I always thought he was hot and-"
"God, stop!" you shrieked, covering your ears until her mouth stopped moving. "So, you two have been sneaking around behind my back and lying to me for months?!"
"We had to because we knew you'd lose your shit! I knew you wouldn’t be mature about this!"
You trembled as you took a step back. You weren't used to yelling or being yelled at. There were times that you and Beth bickered, but it was nothing like this.
And, of course, you'd lose your shit. What did she honestly expect? Was she the real reason your dad began to take better care of himself over the years?
"Why?" You asked almost timidly, a contrast to how you shouted moments ago. "I don't want to sound cliché, but you can have anyone you want. Why him?"
"Because I want him," she said unapologetically.
Beth, in the time you knew her, was never afraid to go after what or who she wanted. She also went all in with guys. She didn't believe in doing it half-ass. But your dad was far from her type, the opposite of the fuckboys she typically dated.
"My dad isn't one of those stupid boys who does lines of coke off your ass. He's a good man."
"I know he's a good man. That's why I'm marrying him," she snapped, holding up her hand for you to see the ring again. It was beautiful. If you had to guess, it was also expensive. "We just want your support."
You wondered what it would be like at times to have a stepmom. Whenever you envisioned it, your best friend never came to mind. Your dad had to be going through a midlife crisis. God, what would your mom say if she was alive? What did Bucky have to say?
"You're half his age!" you argued, the anger starting to surface again as you stepped forward and smacked her hand away. "What do you two possibly have in common?"
"A lot, actually," she said, clutching her hand against her chest. "You never had a problem with your dad and I hanging out in all the years we've been friends. And you wouldn't give a shit about his age if this was any other guy."
"But this isn't just any guy! This is my dad!" you argued, pleading with her to understand as your vision blurred. Didn’t she realize how awkward it was? What if they ended things? "And you're my best friend."
Beth bit her lip at the sight of your tears. "Your dad and I care about each other, okay? We deserve to be happy. And I care about you, too, but I'm not letting him go. I refuse to be like you."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you demanded when you watched the sympathy leave her eyes.
When backed into a corner, Beth lashed out like an animal. Anyone who got too close got hurt. Unlucky for you, you knew you were about to be on the receiving end of her wrath.
"You spent all four years of college studying and being nice instead of living. You only had fun when I made it happen. You hardly dated. You're lucky you even got laid at all," she said, digging into your insecurities. It was tough for guys to look at you when Beth stood beside you. It made you wonder how long she felt this way about you. "Deep down, you’re just a fucking coward. Unlike you, I have the balls to go after what I want, so that's what I did. You should find a pair and do the same."
Your hand connected with Beth's cheek before you could stop yourself. Like a scene out of a movie, your dad opened the door in time for him to witness the slap. But it wasn't his hand that gripped your shoulder to pull you away.
It was Bucky’s.
Your hand stung as Beth dissolved into tears in your dad's arms. He looked disappointed in you and said as much as you tried to say something. You waited for Bucky to snap at you for hitting his daughter, but he stayed eerily silent as he looked at your hand.
Did he hate you now?
"I'm sorry," you whispered, pulling away before he could say a word.
You ducked inside long enough to grab your purse and take off before any of them could stop you. It was a coward's way out. Maybe Beth was right about you, after all.
"You didn't cause a scene," Bucky said, ordering you both another drink. "That being said, I didn't hear most of the argument, but I did see you hit Beth."
You winced a little and rubbed your palm against your thigh. It was the first time you ever hit someone. "I'm sorry for slapping her."
"Don't be. She deserved it," he said under his breath.
You didn't expect him to say that.
"Your dad is worried, you know," he said, surprising you again. "Said you aren't answering his calls."
"No, I'm not. I don't know what to say to him," you admitted, finally taking out your phone to glance at it. You had missed calls and texts from your dad and Beth, but you refused to listen to the voicemails or look at the messages. "I don't get it."
"What do you not get?" He asked curiously when you finally took your drink.
"Them," you said, allowing the alcohol to burn your throat again. "I don't get them together. Beth isn't. Well, she's not…"
"Your mother?" he guessed.
You looked in your lap with a sigh.
"No, she isn't, but maybe that isn't a bad thing. She won't try to be your mom. Just a partner to your dad," he said. Was your dad someone who could ground her? Was she someone who could make him feel younger? "They're consenting adults. And your dad is lonely. Has been for years."
It sounded like he was trying to placate you, but something in his voice kept you from calling him out. You knew your dad was lonely. Beth said something similar about Bucky.
"I think Beth is bringing him out of his shell," Bucky gently added.
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve hardly seen them in months,” you mumbled.
“They should’ve made time for you,” he said, putting his hand over yours. You didn’t dwell on how nice his touch felt since he pulled away just as quickly. “I should have, too. I’ve missed seeing you around the place.”
It wasn’t his job to make time for you.
“You’ve missed me?” you questioned, warmth spreading in your face as he smiled. It was nice to hear that. “I’ve missed you, too.”
“Though I have a feeling you won't want to stop by as much now to see me.”
"If I don't, it has nothing to do with you," you said.
"Sure," he smiled a little.
You examined him with a critical eye, trying to decipher what was going on in his head. Wouldn't it be awkward for him, too? Where was his anger at the situation? Was he hiding it?
"Why are you not upset? She's your daughter."
He gave you a wistful smile and had his drink. A drop of liquid stayed on his lip and you were tempted to wipe it away. Or lick it away. You couldn't act on those urges, especially after the way you went off on Beth. It would be hypocritical.
"Just because I’m not letting it show doesn’t mean I’m not upset. Truth is, I can’t control what Beth does. She stopped listening to me a long time ago. And if I tried to force her to let Dave go, it would make her want him more," he explained, his jaw twitching. "I had a few choice words for him since he kept it from you."
"Wait," you swung in your chair and almost landed in his lap. His hands gripped your arms to steady you, but he didn't let go. "Because he kept it from me? Not you?"
Bucky gave you a single nod, making your heart crack.
"So you knew?" you asked, sadness bubbling up this time instead of anger.
"I did. I’m sorry."
Why would they tell Bucky and not you? Did they expect him to be more mature? Was he the lesser of the two evils or worse?
“How long have you known?” you asked, moving off the stool with his help. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”
“I’ve only known about their relationship for a couple of weeks,” he answered, trying to stop you when you put your phone in your bag. No wonder he wasn’t as upset. He had time to process the news. “Look, it wasn’t my place. You had enough on your mind with job interviews and I was-”
“You were what? Trying to protect me?”
“In a way, yeah,” he said, making you take a step back when he stood up. “I know how my daughter can be, but I didn’t expect them to pick your celebration dinner to tell you.”
“Tonight wasn’t about me,” you said with a bitter laugh. “It was never meant to be about me.”
Age gap and weirdness aside, you didn't want to say out loud that you felt pushed out. Your dad and Beth would be wrapped up in each other from now on. They already were. How would Beth be able to talk to you about romantic issues when those very issues involved your dad? Would your father make time for you? What if they decided to have a kid?
Were you wrong for thinking of yourself instead of being happy for them?
“Come here,” he whispered, embracing you in a comforting hug.
You were close to bursting into tears, shutting your eyes to keep them at bay. What were you supposed to do with the emotions you were feeling? And why did it feel so good to be in his arms?
“I don’t want to be mad at him,” you whispered.
“You won’t be mad at him forever. He’s your father,” he said, leaning in close so his lips brushed your ear. “But he isn’t your daddy, is he?”
Your eyes slowly opened at his words.
“You want me to be your daddy?”
You nearly stumbled back, your eyes wide as you looked at him. There was no playfulness in his gaze. Nothing to give away that it was a joke. You heard him wrong or imagined that because there was no way he would ask you that. Maybe those couple of shots got to you quicker than you thought.
“What did you say?” you asked.
“You heard what I said,” he said evenly.
You laughed as you backed away more. It had to be a joke and you weren’t in the mood for games. So why wasn’t he laughing with you?
“Whatever that was, I-I can’t process this right now. I need air. I need to go home.”
“You’ve been drinking,” Bucky pointed out as you began to walk to the side door. “I can take you. Let me take care of you.
“You’ve been drinking, too,” you said over your shoulder. “I’ll call a cab.”
“Wait!”
You pushed the door open and welcomed the cool air as you walked down the alley. It didn’t bother you since the alcohol warmed you a bit. It was dark, except for the glow of the neon lights. The perfect cover to hide your oncoming tears.
You turned around when you heard footsteps behind you, but didn’t speak when you saw Bucky a few feet away. What would you say to him? It was difficult to think with him watching you, the air thick with tension. The longer his gaze lingered on you, the harder it was to breathe. If he noticed your hand shaking when you wiped at your eyes, he didn't point it out.
Such a gentleman.
"You're not going home until you talk to me," he said, taking another step toward you.
"You can't keep me out here all night. There. I spoke to you."
"That isn't what I meant and you know it. You're pissed about everything, I get it, but don't act like I'm the bad guy here."
"You're not the good guy either," you snapped, pointing back at the bar. “What the hell was that in there? Asking to be my daddy?”
“You know how relieved Dave was that I didn’t beat the shit out of him over Beth? Or that I didn’t push him away as a friend? You know why I didn’t?” he asked, avoiding your question. “Because I’d be a fucking hypocrite.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’ve wanted you since I walked into your dorm room your freshman year.”
The air rushed out of your lungs. A man who is practically sex on legs wanted you. Someone off limits and you could never have.
“Beth never wanted a stepmom and the women I dated didn’t want a bratty daughter. I almost gave up on dating and then I saw you. You were right in front of me and I couldn’t have you because you were half my age and living with my daughter,” he explained.
You thought back over the years, searching for signs in the memories that he wanted you. The late, quiet nights together. His interests in your studies. How he used to joke with your dad that the reason you didn’t date much was because the boys weren’t good enough for you.
“Been almost five years and I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve tried to be good. What’s stopping us now?”
“I. That’s not. We.” Why couldn’t you form a coherent sentence? “You’re a good man and a good looking man, but you’re Beth’s dad.”
Bucky’s bitter laugh chilled you more than the cool air.
“So, you’re going to pretend that you don’t want me? That you haven’t wanted me all these years and I’ve just imagined the looks and want between us?” he demanded, every bit the confident man you grew used to seeing. “Say you don’t want me and we’ll forget this whole thing.”
You couldn’t say that.
“Say I do want you,” you said carefully. “We just can’t.”
You backed up when he strode forward and wrapped his hand around your wrist. The touch was gentler than you expected as he turned and backed you against the wall, your bag unceremoniously falling to the ground. You were forced to look at him when he gripped your chin, pressing his body closer to yours. His eyes flickered between your gaze and trembling mouth and you wondered if he heard how fast your heart pounded.
Were his eyes always such a dark shade of blue or did you ignore the lust hidden beneath the surface?
"Why can’t we, hmm?" he asked, firmly keeping your head in place when you tried to avert your gaze. "Is it because you’re scared? You don’t have to be.”
You were scared as hell. Bucky is a man. Experienced.
"Aren't you tired of being good? I know I am."
You thought back to Beth’s previous words. How she had the balls to go after what she wanted and you needed to do the same. What better time to start than now?
You pressed your lips against his and it didn’t take him long for his tongue to slip in, tasting the whiskey as he devoured you. He moaned when your hands moved down his torso, allowing you to divulge in the thing you both denied yourselves. Some twisted part of you mourned what you could’ve had for months had you simply stopped being a good girl.
Were you truly good to begin with?
The line of his hard cock pressed against you as he rocked his hips and kissed down your neck. “This isn’t how I pictured it, but I can’t fucking wait.”
“How did you picture it?” you whimpered, rolling your hips back against his.
“I’d rather show you later,” he whispered, lightly biting down. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but enough that pain and pleasure lingered. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”
He moved away enough to push your dress up around your hips, shocking you when he tore your panties off. Tucking the ruined fabric into his pants pocket, he slipped his hand back between your thighs. His fingers were cool against your slick folds and you shamelessly writhed, needing everything he was willing to give you.
“Did you touch yourself at night wishing I’d show up and fuck your pretty pussy until you cried for me? Hmm?” He said, kissing you again as you whined. The light scratch of his beard made you shiver as he nipped your bottom lip. “Tell me you want my cock.”
Your head spun at his demand. You weren’t a virgin, but the guys you had been with before weren’t big on dirty talk. Unless they talked about how amazing their cocks were.
They weren’t.
“I want your cock,” you whined against his lips, desperate for him.
You wanted him to fill you up until you were sore, aching, and forgot why you were so upset in the first place.
“I’ll give it to you,” he promised.
Your fingers twisted in his shirt when he slid his fingers into your wet slit. You couldn’t recall a time in your life you felt this hot and slick. And feeling one finger push inside, you were sure this was nothing more than an erotic, dirty dream.
“Fuck, you’re tight. And you’re gonna let me fuck you against this wall, aren’t you?” he asked as you nodded. “Dirty girl. My dirty girl now.”
His finger twisted as he added another and you nearly smacked your head against the wall, but his other hand came up to soften the blow. “Bucky,” you gasped.
“I don’t know if you really want my cock,” he teased, moving his long fingers deep. “Might need to hear it one more time.”
As if you weren’t practically riding the thick digits at this point and moaning in the dark alleyway, he really needed to hear you say it again? The squelching sound of your pussy wasn’t loud enough? But your body liked his teasing. Loved his demands.
“Please, I need your cock. Please, Bucky. Please.” you begged, almost sobbing when he took his fingers out.
“But you said we can't do this. Isn't that what you said?” he asked.
When you opened your mouth to answer, he pushed his wet fingers inside.
“Taste yourself and try to say you don't want me. I dare you,” he whispered, wiping some of the bittersweet juices on your tongue. His fingers slipped free as you gaped at him, watching as he licked the remainder with a groan. “Even sweeter than I imagined.”
The sound of him unbuckling his belt snapped you out of your stupor. “Bucky, I’m-”
“On the pill and clean. I know,” he cut you off as he took his cock out and stroked himself. “I need to fill you up, pretty girl. Need to make you mine, the way I should’ve a long time ago.”
You struggled to keep yourself upright as he guided himself between your legs, holding your hip steady when he pushed the head in. You weren’t nearly stretched enough to take him, but your greedy pussy didn’t care as he slipped in inch by inch. You moaned as he kept pushing until he was fully sheathed inside you. You had never felt so full and likely never would again.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours as your walls pulsed around him.
In the dark place in the back of your mind you kept locked away, you wondered how he looked and sounded when he was pleased. If he gasped when he came or if his eyes rolled back. You were going to find out though, weren’t you?
You cried out when he thrust, one hand moving up to grip his hair. The quick, hard motions felt as desperate as you did inside. You didn’t care if it was fast or dirty. You were tired of being clean. This wasn’t tender or making love. It wasn’t soft touches and kisses to your breasts or slowly building you up.
It was Bucky Barnes fucking you against an alley wall.
“Fuck, are you always this wet or is it just for me?” he asked in awe, pulling one of your legs around his hip to shove his cock in deeper. “Do I have to chase anyone else off?”
You didn’t hear the words as you cried out. It felt so good to be taken like this. The rage, hurt, confusion, all of it molded into ecstasy. You never wanted it to end.
A light smack to your thigh pulled you back to the present.
“Tell. Me. You’re. Mine.” The gravel in his voice grew with each punctuated thrust.
“I’m yours,” you moaned, helpless to the onslaught and uncaring of the implication in the moment.
Your response encouraged him to move faster, kissing you deeply with a groan. His thrusts became almost punishing, like he had to feel you let go so he could come. It wouldn’t take much more with your orgasm building the way it was. You’d be surprised if his cock wasn’t coated in your wetness once you came.
“I-I’m gonna…” you trailed off.
“I know, pretty girl,” he grunted, gripping your chin again. “Be good and come for Daddy.”
Your body seized up before you exploded with pleasure. You struggled to hold yourself up as you trembled with bliss, your vision going white from the intensity. It was so much at once and you thought you might sob from how good it felt.
“Good girl. My good fucking girl,” he encouraged as he fucked you through it, the obscene sounds drowning out your whimpers. He tipped over the edge after a few more thrusts, coating your wet walls. “Fuck, take it.”
He managed to hold you up as he finished, panting as his head fell back. Your grip on his jacket loosened as the reality of the situation sank in, like a bucket of cold water being washed over you. Why did pleasure have to be short lived?
You fucked Bucky. You let Bucky fuck you. How could you cross that line? Just because Beth and your dad had done so, why did you think you could?
God, what were you going to tell them? That you were the biggest hypocrite alive? That you were no better than they were?
What goes around, comes around.
“Hey,” he whispered when he lifted his head, both of you still breathing heavily. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“It’s not okay,” you whispered as he pulled out of you, your mixed release dripping down your thighs. You covered your face as he fixed your dress and himself. “Oh, my god.”
You flinched and dropped your hands when he pulled you away from the wall. His expression was unreadable as he shrugged his jacket off and slipped it over your shoulders. “It’s okay,” he said again.
“W-We can’t do that again,” you whispered as he bent down to retrieve your bag.
"Why not?" he asked, picking up some of the contents that fell out before he stood up.
"Because we can't," you said with no strength behind your words.
“We’re doing this again. You can’t avoid me or this,” he said, pointing between the two of you.
“Your daughter is marrying my dad. This whole thing is fucked up and-”
“And I said I'm tired of being good. I’m fucking tired of denying myself the chance to be happy,” he said firmly as he got in your face. “So are you. I know it."
You pulled the jacket tighter around you, not backing away as he stared at you. Did you shake from the sudden cold, your orgasm, or from the thought that he wasn’t about to let you go?
His gaze softened before he kissed your forehead. “Let’s get a cab and I’ll take you home. We can talk about it once you’ve rested.”
You let him take your hand, your feet moving on their own accord to follow him to the end of the alley. “I can get home on my own.”
You needed to be alone so you could figure out what to do about everything.
“You said you’re mine, didn’t you?” he said, smiling when you stopped. “And what kind of Daddy would I be if I didn’t take care of you?”
Would love to explore more of this new pairing. 😏 Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Welcome to my 2nd Bucky Barnes Masterlist, lovelies, and I hope you enjoy! Here you will find some of my darker fics. These may include triggers such as noncon, dubcon, violence, dark themes, etc. Please heed the warnings. Header and banner by @sgt-seabass and dividers by @firefly-graphics. Check them out!
Main Masterlist | 1st Bucky Barnes Masterlist
I have discontinued my tag list. Please follow my sideblog @navybrat817-sideblog and turn on notifications to see new fics! I will only post fics, writing ideas and updates there.
🔥 smut 💓 fluff 💔 angst 💞 AU 🛑 dark content 💙 Navy's faves
Mini-Series and Universes
Soldat and Sparrow Universe (Ongoing)
Your fire burns for the Winter Soldier. And one day, you’ll be free. Both of you.
Winter and Fire 🔥💙
Summary: You didn’t choose to be with Hydra. Neither did the Winter Soldier.
War and Peace 🔥
Summary: Your first mission together brings inner war...peace.
Soldat and Sparrow
Summary: No one touches his Sparrow.
Night and Day 🔥
Summary: Will you be another one of the Soldat’s lost memories?
Dark and Light
Summary: You learn the real reason why Hydra wants to keep you.
Black and White
Moon and Sun
Past and Future
The Pakhan and the Printsessa - Mob Newlyweds Universe (Ongoing) 💞
You’re married to Bucky Barnes, one of the most powerful men in the world. And all he wants is you.
Harmonious 🔥
Summary: You may think you’re a pawn in Bucky’s life, but you are his queen.
Hollow 🔥
Summary: Bucky touches on memories from the past and wants to start a new tradition with you.
Husband and Wife 🔥💙
Summary: Bucky has to have you before you get to your wedding reception.
Honeymoon Suite 🔥
Summary: Bucky takes a call during your honeymoon, but you should know that you always come first.
Home Again 🔥
Summary: Your husband opens up to you about his past as you fall more in love.
Honesty and Lies
Honor and Obey
Hope, Faith and Love
Vampire Mob AU (Ongoing)
Power and money mean nothing to the powerful vampire ruler if you’re aren’t by his side.
Around Your Throat 🔥
Summary: Bucky has the perfect accessory to go around your throat.
Lay Me Down 🔥💙
Summary: You look to the past and future on your last night as a human.
Disturbia - Dark Suburbia AU
You have a beautiful home and a loving partner. So, why does it feel like something is wrong with your neighborhood?
A Plum a Day 🔥🛑
Summary: You wake up beside Bucky, but you don't know how you got there.
Winter and Kisa - Mob AU 💞
The mobster doesn't care that you're an agent. He wants you to be his.
Give Me a Name
Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go.
Almost Like Home
Summary: Bucky told you his place would be your home one day. You see it firsthand with his closet.
Dark Club AU (Tagged as Turn It Up AU)
Hold You Tight 🔥🛑💞
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
There's Something in the Water - Coming Soon
One Shots and Imagines (over 1k)
*Some fics may get additional parts
Run Like Hell 🔥🛑
Summary: You weren’t supposed to see the Winter Soldier that day. So you ran. The Soldat loves a good chase though…and you’re not getting away from him that easily.
First and Last 🔥🛑 💞 (a/b/o)💙
Summary: Masquerading as Beta was an easy choice. Too bad Bucky Barnes had other plans for you.
You’re My Obsession 🔥🛑💙
Summary: You’re the light in Bucky’s darkness. And he doesn’t want to share you with anyone, including Steve.
Best Man 🛑
Summary: Bucky found the girl of his dreams and Steve couldn’t be happier.
Remind Me 🔥💙
Summary: The apocalyptic world is crumbling around you and you need a reminder of who you belong to.
Push and Pull (features Nick Fowler x Reader)🔥🛑💙💞 (Club)
Summary: Nick wants what Bucky has.
Prized Possession 🔥🛑 💞 (Librarian)
Summary: You’re Bucky’s rare treasure, his most prized possession.
A Debt to Pay 🔥💙💞 (Mob)
Summary: Bucky isn’t a man to be crossed.
What Goes Around 🔥💙 💞 (DBF/BFD)
Summary: Bucky is your friend's dad and your dad's friend and nothing more. Until he isn't.
Send Me an Angel 🔥🛑 💞 (Bartender)
Summary: Bucky thinks you’re an angel.
Follow You Home (Stalker)
Summary: Bucky just wants to see you smile when he visits you at the flower shop.
Two Sides of the Same Coin🔥 (Bucky and the Winter Soldier)
Summary: A night of passion awakens something beneath the surface of the man you love.
What Happens in Vegas 🔥🛑 💞 (Fae)
Summary: You get more than you bargained for when you decide to get married in Vegas.
Within You 🔥🛑
Summary: Bucky shows a different side of himself when you venture into a corn maze.
Ficlets (under 1k)
Read Between the Lines ~ (threat not by Bucky)
Summary: Things are left unsaid with Bucky during your recent mission.
Loyalty 🔥 (features Dark!Andy Barber x Reader)
Summary: Loyalty is something you’ve learned to both loathe and appreciate.
Collateral Damage 🔥🛑
Summary: You pay the price when the Avengers try to undo the snap.
Long Night
Summary: Bucky is waiting for you when you come back from a night out.
A Hero’s Reward 🔥 🛑
Summary: Bucky is a hero and every hero deserves a reward.
100 Word Drabbles
Secret Admirer
Secret Admirer - Part 2
Secret Admirer - Part 3
Secret Admirer - Part 4
Forced Bond 🔥🛑
Last Call 🔥🛑
His Sparrow 🔥🛑
Stalked
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky suggests staying in a hotel together before an undercover mission, which would be fine if you didn't have a massive crush on the super soldier.
Word Count: Almost 5k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, pining, flirting, slight possessive behavior, talk of undercover mission, "only one bed" trope, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: A combination of @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge and my Bucky Barnes Smut Menu, courtesy of @ellemj. "Only One Bed" Trope and the dialogue prompt in bold italics. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
The engagement ring on your finger suited you. Not large or overly flashy, the single diamond radiated a subtle sparkle. It was beautiful and a perfect fit, a representation of the unifying love of marriage. When you looked at it under the light, it was almost as if you could feel the love that Bucky had for you.
If only that were the case.
“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” You asked, taking a seat at the table across from Bucky.
“So we can practice and make sure we’re a convincing couple,” he replied.
You sighed as you glanced around the hotel room for the umpteenth time. A small sitting area, a dining and kitchen combination, a single bathroom, and a bedroom. When you pointed out that there was only one bed, Bucky reminded you of the expectation that the two of you had to sleep together while on assignment since you were going on a couple's retreat. Which wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have a crush on him, right?
Right.
You were completely enamored with Bucky Barnes, the handsome former assassin turned agent for the revamped SHIELD. Instacrush wasn't something you experienced often, so he took you by surprise. It was pathetic to fall for him so hard and quickly. It had to be some sort of karma or divine intervention that you were with him in a hotel room.
Just the two of you.
“You know,” he began, wetting his lips as he leaned back in his chair. You blinked, only because you didn't want him to call you out on staring. “You don't have to look so miserable to be here. Is my company that terrible?”
“What? No. Bucky, you aren't terrible company,” you promised, slumping a bit in your chair. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. “Just been a bit since I've been in a relationship and I’m kind of rusty.”
“You're talking to a guy who hasn't been on a real date since the 40s,” he deadpanned.
He had a point. Plus, from what you understood, Bucky wasn't exactly interested in dating anyone. Every time Steve or Natasha suggested he go on a date, he found a way to brush it off or change the subject.
Even if he was interested in dating, did he think of you as anything beyond a colleague?
Taking this assignment may have been a mistake.
“I’m just not sure I’m the right one for this job,” you said.
“You’re perfect for this job. Why would you think otherwise?”
You froze like a deer in headlights, even as his compliment warmed your heart. It meant a lot that he thought you would do the job well. But how were you supposed to answer that question? That you adored him and it would be torture to pretend to be with him for a week just to back to being coworkers after?
“We should practice,” you suggested instead of giving him an answer. The backstory wasn't overly elaborate, but you had to get it right.
He leaned forward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Did someone say something to make you think you wouldn't be good for this assignment?” He asked in a low voice. “Because I'll straighten them out.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from whimpering. The thought of him putting someone in their place to make you feel better was swoon-worthy. “No, Bucky. No one said anything. You're right. I’m good for this,” you said before you added, “We’re good together.”
You couldn't read the look he gave you and it became more difficult not to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back and clearing his throat. “So. We’re engaged. Going to a resort for a much needed vacation. We’ll have to mingle with some of the guests in between investigating the owner. One of the first questions will be how we met.”
With an exhale, you recited, “We met at a coffee shop. We both ordered the same drink.”
“An iced caramel macchiato,” he said.
“And we reached for the drink at the same time,” you smiled, making a show out of reaching for the glass on the table. “Our fingers touched first. Our eyes met second.”
“And I immediately asked you out,” he smiled.
Your heart swelled. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world when he smiled like that. “You did,” you said, trying to blink the longing from your eyes. “We went to dinner and talked a bit about ourselves. You told me you're a mechanic and I told you I’m a teacher. And once dinner was over, we went back to that same coffee shop and we shared an iced caramel macchiato.”
“Even proposed to you at the same shop,” he said, gesturing to your left hand. “But I actually got the ring after our first date because I knew I wanted you to be my girl,” he said with such conviction that you found it hard to breathe.
The way his eyes softened as he gazed at you, you found yourself believing him for a moment. You had to stay rooted in realism though. The point of the mission besides the actual mission was to act as if you two were crazy about each other.
Not that you had to do any acting on your part.
You cleared your throat and pulled your hand back from the glass. “If only that were true,” you said, absentmindedly twisting the ring around your finger. You weren't cynical about love, but this whole thing was a reminder that you were single and alone.
His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Heat crept up your neck. You shouldn't have said anything. “I mean, it just would've been nice if we met at a coffee shop,” you replied to avoid saying you wanted to be his girl.
“What’s wrong with how we met?” He asked, crossing his arms.
The metal arm gleamed under the light. You noticed that he had a tendency to wear long sleeves and gloves whenever he was in the building, but seeing him with his sleeve pushed up and missing glove? You would almost say he was comfortable around you.
Again, he had to play the part right.
You pulled yourself from your thoughts when he said your name, which sounded like it melted on his tongue. It made you press your thighs together. You needed to stay professional. “Do you not remember what happened or are you just being nice?” You asked.
Months ago, the day you met Bucky, Steve informed you that he planned to introduce you to him after he came back from a long assignment. Not only were you excited to meet one of his best friends and a great soldier, but you had wanted to make a good impression on him. What you did was make an ass out of yourself when you turned the corner only to smack right into the former Winter Soldier.
And splattered your beverage on both of you in the process.
Instacrush and a horrible impression on your part.
Bucky’s lips curled in a smile as your eyes widened. “You do remember,” you said, wadding up a nearby napkin and tossing it at his face, which he easily caught. “Oh, my God! That’s why you chose ‘coffee shop' for this, didn't you?”
You concentrated so much on getting the backstory right that it didn't occur to you that he was maybe poking fun at you. He wasn't the kind of guy that liked making others feel bad though. Tease you, sure. Outright make fun of you at the risk of hurting your feelings? He would never.
“Hey, I didn't choose how we met, but I also didn't object,” he said, raising his hands in surrender when you went to throw another napkin at him. “And I wouldn't forget meeting you, doll. You make a lasting impression.”
You wished you had done something to make him remember you besides spilling a drink on him. “I guess making an idiot out of myself is a lasting impression,” you teased.
Something dark flashed in his eyes, making your breath hitch. “That’s not what I meant. You didn't make an idiot out of yourself and I don't like you thinking that or talking down about yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, not used to someone getting so defensive at your self-depreciation. There was something sexy and heartwarming about it. “You were very nice about the whole incident.”
“You were nice, too,” he said, gesturing to his torso. “I mean, you offered to buy me a new shirt.”
“Because I spilled my drink on it! I felt bad,” you said.
“And when I said you didn't have to buy me a new shirt, you said, ‘Are you sure I can't pay for the dry cleaning at least, Sergeant Barnes?’” he said in a falsetto voice.
He chuckled when you rolled your eyes. “I don't sound like that, first of all, and I was being considerate,” you said. You couldn't believe he remembered your exact words. “And you just gave me that half confused smile of yours before I grabbed napkins for both of us to clean up.”
“You mean this?” He asked, his lips stretching in that familiar awkward grin.
“Yeah, that,” you giggled, your heart doing that funny flip that happened far too often around him.
In the beginning, whenever you smiled at him, he gave you that very look in return. Somewhere along the way, the uncomfortable glances on his end became genuine fondness. It didn't mean anything though.
Just an agent being kind to another agent.
Bucky stared at you as you continued to giggle at the memory. “I’m sorry. I just-”
“I love your laugh,” he said, almost making you choke on your own breath. Nothing like forgetting how to be a human and breathe. “And your smile.”
Maybe he had switched back into practice mode. “You do?” You asked, playing along as you smiled directly at him.
He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice thick as he unfolded his arms. “You know, you're one of the people that actually smiles at me. And you look me in the eye when you talk to me.”
“Why wouldn't I?”
“Because some people are still afraid of me,” he whispered.
Your heart sank. He was a good man. A hero wrongly painted as a villain. It wasn't fair what he went through and you had no reason to fear him.
Why couldn't everyone else see the good in him?
“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky,” you promised. And after what he went through, frightening people was the last thing he would do. “Never have been. Never will be.”
“Maybe you should be,” he muttered, some of the light leaving his eyes.
Your eyes narrowed as you tempered the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Seeing this vulnerable side of him also brought out your protective instinct. “Listen to me. You’re amazing and a good man, okay? And if I don't get to call myself an idiot for spilling a drink on you, then you don't get to say I should be scared of you, Sergeant Barnes,” you said with an air of finality.
He gave you an impressed smile. “Just like that? Because those are totally different things you're comparing.”
“Just like that,” you said, putting your hand on the table for him to take if he wished. “Do you trust that I'll have your back on this mission? Because I trust that you'll have mine no matter what.”
He stared at your upturned hand for a moment before he took it. “You're one of the only people I do trust,” he admitted.
His eyes bore into yours as you tried to find the words to respond. He wasn’t feeding you a line to make you feel good about yourself. Bucky Barnes trusted you.
“Then trust me when I say we got this,” you promised. You would look out for him and let him know that he hadn’t misplaced his trust in you.
“Why don't you have a boyfriend?” He asked suddenly.
The switch in topic jarred you, but he didn’t let go of your hand. “That’s. I’m. What? How is that relevant?”
It wasn't smooth, but it was better than blurting out that your hopeless crush on him was one of the major factors.
“I’m curious,” he shrugged.
“Oh. Well. My last boyfriend dumped me for being an agent. Seriously, he didn't like the fact that I could kick his ass if I wanted to,” you told him, squeezing his hand without meaning to. He didn’t object. “Which I wouldn't.”
“You could kick my ass if you wanted to,” he winked. Physically, Bucky was broad and strong. You weren’t sure you could take him in a real fight, but you could take him another way if he ever offered. “And your ex sounds like an asshole if he can’t stand beside and support an amazing woman.”
You smiled humorlessly. “Thanks, Bucky, but I’m not-”
“I swear to fuck if you talk down about yourself again, I will put you over my knee,” he threatened, his eyes darker than they were seconds ago.
You didn’t laugh as he stared at you. Neither did he. Your clothes suddenly felt too heavy, your body too warm. Licking your lips, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Is that a promise?”
Bucky pushed his chair back and pointed at his thigh, his eyes still on you. “Get over here and find out.”
Oh, fuck.
The sound of Bucky’s phone ringing snapped you both out of whatever spell you two were under. “Shit,” he muttered, taking his hand from yours. “It’s Steve. I better-”
“Yeah, you should answer that,” you said, almost knocking the chair over as you stood. “I think I'm going to call it a night.”
“Wait, what?” He asked, answering the phone. “Hold on, punk,” he said, covering the screen as he looked at you. “You’re going to bed now?”
Guilt settled in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. “Just going to lay down. I may not go to sleep right away. And we can practice more in the morning,” you replied. You just needed to step out of the room and take a breath.
He waited a beat before he nodded, the tension still lingering. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”
“Okay,” you nodded, leaving him alone so he could talk to Steve.
You splashed a bit of water on your face when you went to the bathroom to change. The assignment hadn’t started and you couldn’t keep your cool. With squinted eyes, you pointed at your reflection and mentally scolded yourself. Yes, you wanted Bucky Barnes and maybe, just maybe, some part of him wanted you. At least, he wanted you enough to put you over his knee.
You couldn't have him though. Could you? Mixing business with pleasure could lead to complications if you crossed that line, but it wasn’t like you’d break some major bylaw by being his girl.
Now wasn’t the time to think about that.
“Get your shit together,” you hissed, rushing through your nighttime routine and changing into your comfortable yet sexy nightgown.
Your eyes went to the bed when you left the bathroom. Just a regular hotel bed. Inviting, but not overly frilly. Large enough for the both of you, but small enough that you might end up in each other’s arms.
“It’s going to be a long night,” you muttered.
Sighing, you left a light on for Bucky to see and crawled into bed, shutting your eyes as he wrapped up his call with Steve. You tried to block out the sound of his footsteps as he made his way to the bathroom. Maybe his nighttime routine would take a bit longer than you thought and you could drift off and wake up to the sight of his beautiful eyes and-
The bed dipped as Bucky curled up behind you, your eyes opening when he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him. You were conscious of every shift in his body, every breath he took. How you could smell his lingering cologne as he pressed himself closer. How he ran warmer than you and you wanted him to heat you up even though you weren’t cold.
And that he wasn’t wearing a fucking shirt.
“I know you aren’t sleeping,” he whispered, his fingers brushing along the fabric that covered your skin. “Your heart’s beating too fast.”
He was right. It was about ready to burst through your chest. “Can’t sleep.”
“Why not?” He asked, helping you roll over so you were on your back. He didn’t remove his hand though. “Did my ‘threat’ make you uncomfortable?”
“No, it didn't,” you assured him, heat pooling between your legs that you couldn't prevent. “I wouldn't have continued with the banter if I was uncomfortable.”
“Just making sure,” he said. “I was only teasing.”
You huffed out a laugh in an effort to cover up the crushing feeling in your chest, your arousal fading to a dull ache. “Of course, you were,” you uttered. Teasing. Nothing more. “Good night, Bucky,” you said, turning your head away.
He brought a hand to your cheek and brought your face back toward him. How did his eyes look so blue in the faint light? “Don’t go to sleep yet, please.”
“Why not?”
“You rushed to bed and now you're shutting down. I clearly said or did something wrong,” he sighed, which made you feel bad. He hadn't done anything wrong in your eyes since it wasn’t his fault you wanted his teasing to mean something. “I need to fix it.”
“There’s nothing to fix because you didn't break anything,” you said, the ring heavy on the finger. “But can I ask for a favor?”
“Of course,” he whispered.
You didn’t dare search out his gaze when you said, “I may need reminders this week that you don't actually have feelings for me.”
A few seconds went by before he asked in a small voice, “What?”
You took a breath to compose yourself. The last thing you needed to do was get upset for no good reason. “We’re going to hold hands and cuddle and share a bed and be a couple, but you may need to give me a reality check now and again that you only see me as an agent. Okay?”
Maybe he’d ask Steve for a new partner in the morning.
“You think I only see you as an agent?” He asked, sighing when you nodded. “I used to be good at this.”
“Good at what?”
“Teasing. Flirting,” he answered, leaning in close. He stopped just before his lips touched yours. “Kissing.”
“Wait. You were flirting with me?” you said, not moving forward or back as you put a hand on his chest. His heart raced as fast as yours. And your brain couldn’t compute that implication that he wanted to kiss you. “You weren’t just practicing for the assignment?”
He huffed out a laugh this time. “You’re killing me, doll,” he whispered, closing the distance.
You imagined Bucky kissing you before, but didn’t think it would ever be so soft. His lips barely brushed against yours, but it felt like the beginning of something more. It tempted you like nothing else ever had. He must’ve felt it, too, since he deepened it. You melted. You surrendered.
You never stood a chance.
“So, you like me?” You asked when he pulled back a little to gaze at you. “I’m sorry. I just need to hear you say it because I really like you and have for months. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because we have a whole week together for this assignment and now you know and I don't want it to be weird.”
Your mind almost shut down when he gave you a full-blown smile and said, “Yeah, I like you. I thought it was obvious. I tried dropping little hints, talking about your smile and trusting you.” He chuckled almost shyly as his words sank in. “I took this assignment because of you.”
A moment passed before you giggled, happiness blooming in your chest. Bucky Barnes liked you. Wanted you. “Thank fuck,” you breathed, pulling him back down for another kiss.
He groaned, ravaging your mouth as he moved on top of you. His knee pushed your legs apart so he could settle between them, swallowing down your whimpers when he pressed his growing hardness against your pussy. He ground his hips, your panties soaked as his tongue tangled with yours. The man kissed you like he had something to prove.
Like he wanted to own you.
His muscles rippled as he leaned up and grasped the bottom of your nightie. The vision of him above you like this was now engraved in your mind. “If you want me to stop, I will.”
Sleeping with him was moving fast considering you just confessed your feelings for each other, but you didn't care. “Don't stop,” you whispered, quivering as he tugged the fabric over your head.
Your hands moved up to cover your chest before he gripped your wrists. “Are you trying to hide from me?” He questioned, his smirk playful in comparison to the uncertainty in his gaze.
You didn't want him doubting himself or your want for him for a second.
“Maybe? I mean, look at you and look at…”
You wouldn't knock on your looks since you were generally confident in your appearance, but the super soldier was an entirely different level of gorgeous. He towered over even the largest of agents, with the exception of Steve, and his dark lashes framing his steel eyes were enough to pull you under.
And who were you compared to him? Just another agent. Average.
“Don't,” he whispered, releasing a wrist so he could cup your breast. You arched your back and any uncertainty in his eyes before faded when a moan escaped your lips. “You're so fucking beautiful.”
The praise almost made your eyes water as he brought his head down, losing focus when he swept his tongue across your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, a wave from a sea of ecstasy crashing over you. Your heart thudded faster, addicted to the feel of his sinful mouth.
“You’re the reason I don't have a boyfriend,” you whined, your fingers twisting in his hair. Why did you say that?
He smirked against your skin before he reached down and tore your panties away. “I haven't gone on a date because of you.”
Your body throbbed with need as you met his gaze. “You're just saying that to get in my pants,” you joked.
His eyes raked down your body, stopping between your trembling thighs as he pushed his pants and underwear down. “If I had my way, I would've taken you out first,” he said, drawing a moan from you when he wrapped a hand around his thick cock. “But all I can think about right now is how loud you’ll say my name when I make you come.”
“Bucky,” you moaned, tempted to reach down and touch yourself to the sight of him.
“Louder than that,” he said smugly, rubbing the tip of his cock along your slick folds. “Fuck, I wanna take my time and explore you. Make you feel like a goddess. Treat you the way you deserve.”
It warmed your heart and sent another wave of desire through you knowing he wanted to take care of you. “I know you'll treat me well,” you smiled, opening your legs wider. “But for now, please, fuck me.”
He didn't ask about birth control, which you were on. You didn't ask about condoms. It didn't matter. You wanted to feel all of him.
You glanced down as he lined himself up, watching as he slowly eased into you. It was overwhelming as you took every inch, your mouth falling open with a moan. You floated in a cloud of lust, the sound of his groan reaching your ears.
“Look at me,” he ordered as he bottomed out.
Your eyes flew to his as he gripped your chin. The feel of him inside you, his eyes staring so intently into yours that he practically touched your soul. It was almost too much. And that was when he began to move, the weight of his body on top of yours as he fucked you in slow and deep thrusts. It was the kind of lovemaking that would make you crave more.
Crave him.
“Knew you'd take me well,” he grunted. You whined, the praise going straight to your core as you tightened around his thick cock. Your walls couldn't stop gripping him as he slid in and out. “Knew your pussy would be greedy for me. Won’t let me go.”
Your head fell back against the pillow, dizzy as he trapped your body under his. As he rolled his hips, you wondered if he’d let you ride him at some point. Maybe he’d fuck up into you as he brought your hips down. Or maybe he’d lay back and cup your breasts, let the weight bounce in his hands as you took all of him.
You’d take whatever he gave you.
The growing pleasure within you was like you were burning from the inside out, each movement from him stoking the flames. His low groans mixed with your whines, his thrusts increasing in speed when he brought his thumb to your clit. Your hand worked its way back into his hair as you cried out his name, your control slipping further and further away as he took over.
“Just like that,” he moaned. “Don’t hold back on me. Wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”
“Bucky, I'm gonna…” you trailed off, your orgasm building fast in your core and ready to burst.
“Come,” he finished for you, a filthy smirk on his face as he laced his fingers with yours.
One more thrust and you were gone, his name falling from your lips as you came. Your mouth stayed open as you spasmed, pleasure rushing from head to toe. You panted and didn't care if you'd ever properly breathe again. That was how good it felt.
“I’m close, doll,” he gritted, resembling a growl as he continued to fuck you and chase his release. “Gonna come inside you. Gonna own you.”
“Come inside me, Bucky,” you begged, watching through half-lidded eyes as his face contorted in ecstasy. It was such an erotic sight. “Please.”
He buried himself deep with a long moan as he filled you in hot, thick spurts, nuzzling his face in your neck when he finished. He said your name as he heavily breathed against your neck and it was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. You wrapped your arms around him when he stayed inside you, not at all bothered as your mixed release slowly trickled out.
You didn't want him to let you go.
“Well,” you huffed, a dopey smile on your face as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I don't think we’ll have a problem convincing people we care about each other.”
He chuckled, kissing your warm skin. “And we won't have a problem sharing a bed,” he said, keeping you close as you yawned. “Sleep, doll. I’ve got you.”
“I’ve got you, too,” you said, feeling him smile against you as you drifted off.
The delicious ache between your thighs was the second thing you noticed when you woke up. The first, of course, was Bucky’s arm and leg draped over you: warm, protective, perfect. He was still fast asleep, the blanket pooled around his waist, completely at ease with the world. You could get used to waking up like this.
You hesitated before you touched his cheek, not wanting to wake him as you kissed his forehead. You wished you had time to kiss every scar on his body and worship him the way he said he wanted to worship you. The two of you would have to leave the bed sooner or later. There was work to do.
“Mmm. Morning,” he said, his voice laced with sleep as he cracked an eye open.
“Morning,” you whispered, cuddling closer as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed over the ring. The motion made you brush against his crotch and you were close enough to hear the hitch in his breath. You did it again, keeping your gaze innocent as he opened his eyes more and groaned.
Yes, there was work to do, but it was still early.
“You’re still horny? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?” He teased.
“Yeah, I’m still horny,” you replied. Waking up next to him would arouse anyone. “Need you to fuck me again.”
“You won’t be able to walk if I fuck you again,” he smirked, rolling on top of you and digging his fingers into your waist.
“Should’ve known you’d be a cocky boyfriend,” you teased back, your heart thundering in your chest as he leaned down and skimmed kisses along your jaw. “Sorry, we didn’t put a label on this and there’s still stuff to figure out and the mission and-”
“Hey. Boyfriend, your man, whatever you want to call me, I’m yours,” he cut you off, his mouth drifting to your neck. “And I still owe you a date, got it? You’re my girl. You’re mine.”
“I'm yours,” you gasped when he nipped your skin hard enough to sting, his tongue soothing it after. You were his and he was yours. “So, we're a couple now? Just like that?” You smiled as he worked his way back to your lips.
Bucky answered you with a kiss. “Just like that.”
I struggled a bit with this one after having to scrap almost 2k and go in another direction, but I ended up falling in love with it. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader
Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him.
Word Count: Over 5.7k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.
“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”
“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”
“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”
“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”
“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”
You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.
“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.
You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.
You were more than happy to help.
“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.
You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.
But it wasn't that cut and dry.
“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.
You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.
He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.
That was where you came into the picture.
If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.
“You wanna be my angel?”
You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.
While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.
Unlike your last boyfriend.
As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.
Was it a recipe for disaster?
The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.
His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.
You had it bad.
“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”
Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.
Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.
“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.
He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”
You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.
“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.
“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.
“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.
Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.
He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.
It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.
“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.
He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.
He wouldn't budge on that rule.
“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.
His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.
Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.
You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.
Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.
“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”
His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Three months since we started this,” he answered.
You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.
A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”
Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?
“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”
You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.
And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.
He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”
“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”
He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.
“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”
Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.
You trusted him and he made you feel safe.
“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.
A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.
“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.
So were you.
It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.
You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.
He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.
Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.
“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”
A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”
“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."
“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”
He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.
“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.
“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.
“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”
“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.
He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.
“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”
“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”
Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.
“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”
You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.
“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”
“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.
And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.
Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.
“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”
Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.
“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”
You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”
In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.
He took you to heaven when he was inside you.
“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.
“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”
“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”
Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.
Flaws and all.
“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”
Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.
“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”
It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.
“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.
“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”
“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”
“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”
“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.
“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”
Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?
Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”
He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”
The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.
“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.
Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”
Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.
“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.
A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.
It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.
Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.
You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.
At least, that was what he told you.
You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?
Had you taken care of him?
Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.
“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.
“You okay?”
“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.
For now.
He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”
“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”
His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”
You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.
You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?
Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.
“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.
He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”
Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.
You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.
“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.
He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”
Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.
“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”
He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”
There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.
One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.
You wondered if Bucky told her about you.
“What’s there to like?” He asked.
You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”
“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.
“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.
Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.
Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.
“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.
It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.
And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.
Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?
“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”
“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”
You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.
That day changed your life.
“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”
“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”
There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.
In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.
Permanently.
I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
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