☽✧ witchywithwhiskey's fics ✧☾

molly ✧ she/her ✧ 30s ✧ sideblog for @whiskey-bitch ✧ 18+ only!!

[witchywithwhiskey]

witchywithwhiskey's rules and masterlist

about me: molly ◦ 30s ◦ she/her rules: ✧ you must be 18 or older to interact with my blog ✧ ageless and blank blogs will be blocked ✧ none of my works should be copied, translated or reposted in any way ✧ don't send asks/dms with nsfw gifs, vids or links unless you've asked me first important notes: ✧ i don't do taglists. do not ask to be added to a taglist ✧ i don't take requests ✧ do not ask for a part 2 (or some variation) ✧ i write for chris evans, sebastian stan and henry cavil characters. and whatever else i want. but no rpf links: ao3 ◦ main blog

you'll find full content warnings and summaries on each fic. some works contain dark themes and elements such as dubcon and noncon, so proceed with caution. you're responsible for your own media consumption!

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[witchywithwhiskey]

kiss me softly

pairing: best friend!bucky barnes x female reader

summary: you're distracted during movie night with your best friend, and when he convinces you to tell him what's on your mind, it leads to so much more...

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, pwp, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, tit play/nipple sucking, dry humping, dirty talk, some degradation, some objectification, referenced dumbification, vaguely referenced free use, praise kink, begging, teasing, kissing (so much kissing), Bucky's a lil possessive, pet names (doll, pet, baby), aftercare, friends to lovers

word count: 4.7k

a/n: how many times have i written a bucky barnes friends to lovers fic on a couch? SO many times! and will i write it again? probably!!! anyway, here's my contribution for week 2 of @buckybarnesevents's Hot Bucky Summer! i didn't use allllll the prompts but i still had a lot of fun writing this one, so i hope y'all enjoy it ♡

prompt: “Did I give you permission?” | [Cock Cage | Orgasm Delay/Denial | Master/Pet Roleplay]

Hot Bucky Summer 2025 masterlist

“That’s a mean frown ya got over there, doll.”

Bucky Barnes’ comment broke you from your thoughts, and you blinked, realizing you’d been staring unseeingly at the TV in your living room. Shaking yourself lightly, you glanced over to the other side of the couch, where your best friend was lounging comfortably for your movie night. 

Even with the vaguely concerned expression on his face, Bucky looked far too good in a plain black t-shirt and a simple pair of gray sweatpants. You’d always known your best friend was handsome, but there was something about seeing him sprawled out on your couch, taking up so much space in your home, it had you feeling a certain type of way…

“Do you not like the movie I chose?”

You startled slightly at Bucky’s question, and abandoned the trail your thoughts had been wandering down. They wouldn’t lead anywhere good. Bucky was your best friend, not some guy to scratch an itch that you could probably just ignore.

“No, no,” you assured him, looking back at the TV. He’d put on some 90s action movie that you normally would’ve enjoyed, but you’d seen it so many times, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from getting distracted. “I’m just thinking,” you said on an exhale, rearranging yourself on the couch so your legs were tucked underneath you. 

“Must be serious to have you frowning like that,” Bucky teased, shifting his body so he was facing you, ignoring the movie as it played on, even though it was one of his favorites. “C’mon, doll, tell your best friend what’s troubling you—it’s what I’m here for.”

Bucky flashed a charming grin your way, and you couldn’t help but melt a little. Your best friend always had that effect on you. He could convince you to do anything he wanted with just some sweet words and that dazzling smile.

Thankfully, Bucky didn’t use his superpowers for evil—just for a little bit of trouble. Like that time he’d talked you into getting some finance guy at a bar in Tribeca to buy you extra drinks so Bucky could drink for free too. 

The guy hadn’t been very happy when he learned he’d been bankrolling you and your best friend for the night, but you’d ditched him and the bar before a fight could break out. You and Bucky had collapsed against each other on the subway ride home to Brooklyn, laughing together, your breaths mingling until you didn’t know where yours ended and your best friend’s began…

Wrenching yourself out of that memory, you forced yourself to focus on Bucky. 

“I just…” you began and trailed off, suddenly realizing how pathetic you were going to sound when you gave voice to what you’d been thinking about. Chewing on your lip, you wondered if there was a way to phrase it so you didn’t sound quite so pitiful.

When inspiration failed to strike, your helpless gaze met Bucky’s eyes across the couch. He ducked his head and looked at you from under his lashes, giving you an encouraging nod.

“I won’t judge you, doll, you know that,” he said, his voice low and rumbly in a way that made your stomach flip and a little tingle to flutter between your thighs. His expression was so open and sincere, you squirmed, ignoring your body’s reaction.

“I know,” you said, nodding, and letting your gaze drop to your fingers in your lap. “It’s just a little silly.” You tried to laugh, but it came out strained. Your fingers picked at your nails—a nervous habit your best friend had pointed out to you years ago. 

Bucky scooted across the couch, until he was close enough to place one of his warm hands over yours, stopping your nervous fidgeting. 

You knew you were being ridiculous. You knew Bucky wouldn’t judge you, you didn’t know why you were so nervous about talking to him. So you told yourself to be brave. You took a deep breath and looked at your best friend, meeting his bright blue eyes. 

“I was thinking about…kissing.”

Your words hung in the air for a moment, then two. Then Bucky cocked his head to the side and a little line formed between his brows, his expressions morphing into confusion. Before he could ask his question, though, you rushed on, suddenly eager to get it all out once you’d started. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve been kissed,” you explained, your voice breathless from the flood of words spilling from your mouth. “And I was thinking about how nice it would be for someone to take my face in their hands and just…kiss me softly—kiss me like they mean it.”

The whisper of your words trailed off, leaving the muted sounds of the movie and the city beyond your living room to press down on your shoulders. At some point, you’d dropped your gaze again to your lap, where your hands had turned over, fingers slotting between Bucky’s. As you watched, his hand gave yours a little squeeze.

You didn’t see Bucky move, but you heard him. You heard the couch creak and the rustle of fabric as he slid across the cushions until his gray cotton-clad thigh was pressed against your bare knees. 

Just like Bucky, you’d dressed comfortably for movie night, wearing a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt that might’ve belonged to him once. But you’d commandeered it so long ago, you thought of it as yours. 

“Is that what you want?” Bucky asked, his voice even lower and rumblier, sending the butterflies in your stomach spiraling. 

The fingers of his other hand were gentle when they slid against your jaw, tipping your face toward him. Your best friend’s blue eyes looked practically electric in the dim light of the room, and there was something, something like hunger, wading deep in their depths. The emotion called to something deep inside you.

“Do you want me to kiss you, pet?”

That nickname—the one Bucky only used when you were half asleep, snuggled up close, your heads huddled together, your limbs entwined while you lay in bed or on the couch after a long night of watching movies or drinking at the bar—sent a warm flush through your body. 

You hadn’t been thinking about Bucky when you’d been thinking about someone kissing you, but in a matter of moments, it had become all you could think about. Suddenly, you were all too aware of your best friend.

His breaths were coming a little faster, and his blue eyes had darkened, his pupils blowing wide as his gaze searched your face. You could smell the faint hint of salt and butter on his lips from the popcorn you’d eaten earlier, and you could see every grain of the dark stubble shifting on his clenching jaw.

There was a hesitance, a nervousness, you rarely, if ever, saw in your best friend, and it made your breath hitch in your throat. He wanted this. He wanted it as badly as you did, and knowing that made you brave.

“Please, Bucky,” you begged on a whisper, meeting his gaze with your own, your eyes wide and pleading. You leaned into his touch, his thumb stroking your cheek rhythmically. 

For a moment that seemed to last forever, Bucky stared into your eyes, as if searching your soul for any reason to pause. When he found none, the edge of his mouth curled in a smile.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” he rumbled in a teasing tone that had your heart fluttering in your chest. 

Then Bucky leaned forward, and you did the same, until your breaths mingled and you could feel the warmth of him on your lips. 

Your mouths met in a tentative brush, so soft you would’ve thought you imagined it if it wasn’t for the shock of electricity that zipped down your spine. You tilted your face, searching for more, and Bucky’s lips met yours again in another cautious kiss. 

Heat bloomed in your body, unfurling in your chest and taking root low in your belly, your racing pulse thrumming between your thighs. It was a slow-building pleasure, but then, all of a sudden, you were ravenous for more. You pressed closer, fingers curling around Bucky’s shoulders, tongue flicking experimentally against his upper lip.

He groaned like he was in the greatest pain, but then his hands were wrapping around your waist, spanning your ribcage, and he was hauling you closer. His mouth covered yours and he deepened the kiss, giving you exactly what you needed without you having to ask.

Bucky devoured you, his lips moving against yours in a greedy push and pull that had you moaning wantonly into his mouth. When your lips parted, his tongue plunged inside, taking control of the kiss while his fingers tightened on your body. 

Your best friend held you like you were priceless, and kissed you like you were inescapable. Bucky kissed you like he’d been waiting years—decades—to get his mouth on you, and you’d only needed to ask. 

It was dizzying, overwhelming and wonderful in the best way. You kissed him back with all the pent up yearning that had been locked away in your heart, consuming him just as much as he was you.

Only when your lungs were burning for air did you wrench your lips from Bucky’s with a gasp. Over your desperate, panting breaths, you heard him growl, his hands cupping your face as he kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Did I give you permission to pull away, pet?”

The possessiveness in Bucky’s tone made you melt, and a whimper of desire slipped from your lips. You’d never seen this side of your best friend, but it made you nearly feral for more. 

“Bucky,” you whined his name pitifully. Your fingers were clinging to his t-shirt and trying to tug him closer on the couch, but you were already as close as you could possibly be while you sat next to each other. 

At your desperate whimpering, Bucky softened, a smile flirting around the edges of his mouth. “C’mere, pet,” he purred, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. 

Then your best friend was manhandling you into his lap, arranging you so your legs straddled his thighs. Your ass was perched over his groin, where you could feel a thick bulge pressing into the center of your body, making heat cascade down your spine as wetness dripped from your slit.

“Oh god, Bucky,” you mewled, rolling your hips instinctively and grinding against his cock through your clothes. “Did you—did you get this hard from kissing me?” you whispered, stumbling over your words but forcing them out because you needed to know the answer.

“Yeah, baby,” Bucky rumbled, affection in his tone as his hands dove beneath your oversized t-shirt to skate up and down your spine. You felt electric heat burst everywhere he touched. “My best friend’s sweet kisses made me this hard.” 

He lifted his hips, digging his bulge into your soft mound, dragging a helpless moan from your lips. He pressed his grin into the underside of your jaw.

“You feel so good, pet,” he murmured into your skin, like he was confessing a secret. “Your mouth is a dream that’s haunted me for years, and now that I’ve had a taste, there’s no going back for me. You’ve wrecked me, baby, and I need so much more of you.”

With one hand cupping your jaw, Bucky dragged your mouth back to his and he kissed you like a starving man—like he’d been lost in a desert for days and you were his first sip of water. 

You kissed him just as greedily, launching yourself off the ledge the two of you had been dangling from for years, neither one wanting to be the first one to jump. But now he had, and you were happy to follow him in his freefall, knowing he’d catch you and hold you safely in his arms.

When you needed air, Bucky’s mouth trailed down your jaw to your neck, his lips finding your thumping pulse and sucking on your skin until you were whining. While you gasped for breath, he found every spot on your neck that made you hotter and needier, until you were squirming your hips impatiently on his lap.

“I need more, too, Bucky,” you huffed, spreading your legs wider over his thighs so that you could press down more firmly on your best friend’s cock. You fingers sank into his soft brown hair, holding his face to your neck while you rolled your hips in a dizzying frenzy. “Are you gonna do anything about it?”

Bucky stilled beneath you, and it was only then that you realized what you’d said. You sucked in a surprised breath, not sure where that boldness had come from—though you suspected it had something to do with the fact that you felt safe and comfortable enough with your best friend to freely speak your frustrated mind.

Leaning back, you caught sight of Bucky’s face, his eyes meeting yours as humor and lust roiled in their blue depths, like he was eager to meet your challenge. He wore a dark and hungry smirk, and his hands tightened where they held you, pulling you close until your chest was pressed tight to his. 

“Does my pretty little pet need my cock?” Bucky asked, his tone agonizingly condescending, and making you drip so much you began to worry you’d leave a wet spot on his gray sweatpants. But then he distracted you with more filthy words. “D’you need your best friend to fuck that achy, greedy pussy between your soft thighs, huh?”

“Jesus, Buck,” you gasped, a little surprised to find out your best friend had such a filthy mouth. 

But you didn’t hate it—far from it. You wanted more, you wanted him to fuck you and talk you through it, so you went on, hoping that if you were vocal, he’d keep talking dirty to you. 

“Y-yes, I need you, need you to fuck me, Bucky, please!”

Not needing to be asked twice, Bucky flipped you down onto your back on the couch, taking care to make sure you didn’t knock your head against anything but the pillows. Then his hands were manhandling your legs together, dragging your sleep shorts and panties over your hips and off in one swift movement. 

While he reached behind his back and yanked his t-shirt off, you pulled yours over your head, discarding it and your bra as quickly as you could manage. Once free, your hands immediately went to your tits, groping your soft flesh and rolling your nipples between your fingers as you stared up at the muscular chest of your best friend. 

Bucky’s big body pushed between your thighs, which you spread eagerly for him, your knees hugging his ribs while he shoved his sweatpants down. When his cock bounced free, you gasped softly at the sight of him—so thick and hard and perfect. 

For a moment, the two of you paused, like you’d both just realized you were naked in front of each other for the first time. Your gaze roamed hungrily over Bucky’s body, appreciating the breadth of his shoulders, the slight taper of his waist, the soft trail of hair leading down to his hard cock. 

The moment dragged on for so long, you managed to tear your eyes away from your best friend’s cock to look at his face. Bucky’s handsome face was slack with desire, his darkened blue eyes roving over your body with the same kind of awe you’d felt when looking at him.

His gaze lingered on your chest, watching your fingers idly play with your nipples. You squeezed your tits harder, making yourself gasp and arch up off the couch. Bucky’s cock gave an answering twitch and he grabbed it in one fist, pumping himself slowly while he marveled at you.

It felt good to be the object of your best friend’s lust, but you could feel your pussy leaking and pulsing, begging to be filled. You decided Bucky could watch you all he wanted—but later, after he’d fucked you.

“Buck, please, I need your cock,” you whined, your hands leaving your body to reach for him. Your fingers curled around his shoulders and you dragged him down on top of you, his knuckles brushing against your soft mound and making you moan.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, before capturing your lips in a kiss. 

His mouth was hot and demanding, his kiss slow and drugging, stealing your breath until your head was spinning. When he pulled away, it was only to speak more filth against your lips. 

“Your tits are so pretty, pet,” he murmured, using his thumb to press his cock between your soaked folds, dragging his shaft through your lower lips to make himself slick with your juices. “Can’t wait to suck on ‘em while my dick’s buried in your cunt. Wanna hear your pretty whines while I suck your tits and you clench around my fat cock.”

“Fuck, Bucky,” you huffed, fingers carding through his hair and dragging him to your mouth for a messy kiss. 

“What, ya like it when I talk dirty, baby?” Bucky asked teasingly when he pulled away. There was a ridiculously charming grin on his face, like he already knew the answer to his question. Which, of course, he did. 

You couldn’t help but shake your head in amusement, your lips curving in a smile. “I love it,” you mumbled, pulling him in for another deep kiss before finishing your thought. “Love hearing all the filthy things you wanna do to your best friend.”

Bucky groaned, his cock throbbing against your pussy, and then he was pulling his hips back until the tip was notched at your hole. He paused, lifting up enough for his eyes to search yours.

In that moment, neither of you needed words. The hunger and desire and need swirling through your body was reflected in Bucky’s dark blue gaze, and though your lips parted to beg him to finally slide inside, all you had to do was nod. 

Bucky thrust forward slowly, carefully, and yet you still gasped when the head of his cock pushed inside your tight hole. It had been a while since you’d had anyone or anything inside you, and even though Bucky wasn’t intimidatingly big, you still felt the stretch of your body accommodating him.

“Y’alright, pet?” he murmured against your cheek, his scruff tickling your skin, his mouth never straying far from yours. 

“Yeah, just—just go slow,” you whispered back, fingers hooked around his shoulders, nails digging into his warm muscles.

“You tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, alright?” he rumbled in a stern voice that had the butterflies fluttering in your belly again. He pulled back enough to give you a serious look. “I want you to enjoy this.”

The corner of your mouth kicked up in a half smile and you pulled him down for yet another kiss. Even though your lips were swollen from kisses, you didn’t think you’d ever get enough from Bucky, especially the ones where you were both smiling too much to brush your lips against each other’s.

He pushed forward, using your distraction to slide a little deeper. You tensed at the stretch of feeling him fill you more, waiting for the pain—but nothing came. Bucky’s hands soothed over your bare skin, using his words to distract you again.

“I want you to want to do this again, baby, because I already know that I will—I’m gonna wanna fuck you again and again and again, until you’re nothing more than a dumb, mindless pet who’s drunk on my cock, your cunt squeezing me tight every time I make you come. Wanna drain my balls in your pretty pussy until you’re overflowing with me.”

A moan slipped from your lips at Bucky’s words, you cunt clenching tight around the tip of his cock. Instinctively, you spread your thighs wider around your best friend’s body, allowing him to sink even deeper into your cunt, until he was buried halfway to the hilt.

“I want that, Bucky,” you whispered against his scruffy cheek, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging on him until you could see his face. “I want you to fuck me dumb, make me your pretty little fuck toy—want you to fuck me whenever and wherever you want. Wanna be your perfect fuck pet.”

“Fuuuck, you’re so fucking perfect, baby,” Bucky groaned, pushing the rest of his cock into your pussy as slowly as he could bear, the self-restraint evident in every tense muscle of his body. “You’re such a perfect, pretty fuck pet—fuck, you feel good.”

The words were stolen straight from your lips, because it was Bucky who felt good. It was Bucky who felt so hot and hard and perfect inside you, filling you up enough to feel the stretch without hurting you. 

Unable to stop yourself, you wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him tight inside you while you buried your face in his neck and moaned. He grunted, feeling your pussy gripping and squeezing and sucking on his cock. Every slight movement sent pulses of pleasure through your body.

“You feel so good inside me, Buck,” you murmured, tilting your face until it was pressed into his scruffy jaw. “God, your cock is just—so good.”

At your words, you could feel the slight tremors wracking Bucky’s body as he held himself still, fighting against his instincts to give you the chance to adjust to the feeling of him filling you up. But that’s not what you wanted. You wanted more, you wanted him to fuck you. 

“Need more now,” you whimpered, rocking your hips and urging him to move, but he remained still above you.

“Gimme a minute,” he huffed, kissing you to distract you. 

Despite his best efforts, your hips kept rolling lazily beneath his heavy body, so he lowered his weight until you were pinned beneath him and all you could do was whine into his mouth. He huffed a self-deprecating laugh.

“If ya keep doing that, ‘m gonna empty my balls in your cunt sooner than I planned, pet,” he warned, though there was an edge of a smile in his warm, teasing tone.

A giggle erupted from your lips even as your inner walls clenched tight around Bucky’s cock, your body liking his words more than you probably should’ve. But seeing Bucky struggle to keep his composure while he was buried inside you made you want to be a menace to your best friend. 

“You gonna turn me into your cumdump, Buck?” you teased, dragging the blunt edges of your teeth down his neck, feeling his cock twitch inside your tight channel. “You gonna fill me up until I’m leaking your come all down my thighs—you gonna fuck it back into me, huh?”

Bucky’s head dropped to your shoulder with a pained groan and he pulled his hips back, pushing against the tight hold your legs had on him before snapping forward. He started fucking you in short, punishing thrusts that had you moaning mindlessly as his cock pounded into you.

“Christ, your dirty mouth is even worse than mine, pet,” he growled, but there was an edge of exhilarated laughter in his tone that made it clear he wasn’t mad about it. Instead, he lifted his head and flashed you an impish grin, before ducking down to your chest.

When Bucky’s lips wrapped around your nipple and he sucked hard on your tightened peak, you cried out. Your back bowed off the couch, shoving your tits into your best friend’s face while your fingers clutched his head to your chest. 

“Oh my god, Bucky!” you gasped, the words devolving into an obscene moan. You squirmed beneath his bigger body while he chuckled at the helpless sounds you made.

Bucky was everywhere, his mouth sucking greedily on your tits, hands groping the soft curves of your hips, his cock spearing into your cunt over and over again in hard, brutal thrusts. It was too much, and yet not enough. 

Your legs tightened around Bucky, ankles hooking around the backs of his thighs to try to hold him inside you as you met his every thrust. Pleasure was winding tighter in your lower belly, and you were desperately chasing your release, your fingers tugging uselessly on your best friend’s hair as you whined.

“Please, Bucky, please, please, please,” you chanted, until he finally rose up and met your lips in a furious kiss. “I need more, I need—” Your words cut off on a gasp when Bucky drove his cock into you so hard and so deep, you felt the tip brush against the very end of you.

“I know exactly what you need, pet,” he growled, that possessiveness back in his tone that sent your heart careening in your chest. “You just be a good little slut and take your boyfriend’s cock like a perfect fuck pet.”

He picked up his pace, fucking you into the soft cushions of the couch like a man possessed. His hard body loomed over you, his muscles shifting gloriously beneath his skin everywhere you touched, and even as his chest heaved, he kissed you. His mouth devoured yours, greedily drinking down every sound of your pleasure.

It wasn’t long before you were on the edge of your release, your cries growing higher pitched and more desperate as your body fluttered around his pounding cock. Bucky murmured encouragement into your lips, his hips grinding against your soft cunt, the base of his cock rubbing your clit until you were lost to the pleasure.

You came with a shrill scream, every muscle in your body clenching so tight that you dragged Bucky over the edge right after you. Your best friend buried his face in your chest, sucking idly on your soft tits and grunting his pleasure. 

His hips kept thrusting wildly, spilling rope after rope of his seed deep in your pussy as your body clenched around him. You moaned unabashedly, basking in wave after wave of pleasure as they washed over you.

For long, endless moments, your bodies writhed together, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from each other as your mouths kissed messily. 

Finally, when you were both spent, Bucky collapsed on top of you, crushing you with his weight for one blissful moment before he rolled to the side. His hands were gentle on your body as he rearranged you so that one of your legs was thrown over his hip, keeping his softening cock buried in your pussy.

“Kiss me softly, baby,” Bucky murmured against your lips, echoing your earlier words with a smile curving his mouth. There was a teasing edge to his tone, but you didn’t get the sense he was making fun of you, just being playful with you the way he always was.

It made your heart clench to think that nothing truly had to change between you and Bucky even after you’d given in to the mutual desire you felt. 

He was still your best friend, and now the two of you could become something more—together. You hadn’t missed the way he’d called himself your boyfriend in the heat of the moment, but that was a conversation for later.

So you huffed a little laugh at his teasing and kissed Bucky. You kissed him as softly as you could manage while you both caught your breath. 

It was different, more decadent, both of you taking your time to learn the other. It was like you both knew you had plenty of time—the rest of your lives—to discover everything there was to know about each other. Everything you didn’t already know.

For the rest of your movie night, you and your best friend, Bucky Barnes, took turns kissing each other softly, and fucking each other hard. Eventually, you fell asleep together, entwined on the couch, both wearing smiles on your kiss-swollen lips.

Hot Bucky Summer 2025 masterlist

[spiderwebbedhearts]

I really need a best friend like this rn 🔥

[witchywithwhiskey]

mhm 🙂‍↕️ thank you for reading!! ♡♡♡

[witchywithwhiskey]

trucker king (part 4)

pairing: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader

summary: you wake up alone for the first time since meeting your trucker, and it leads to an unexpected revelation about your relationship.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), brief dubcon, smut, piv sex, brief painful sex, unprotected sex, creampie, anal sex (f receiving), oral sex (m receiving), sex toy, double penetration with a sex toy, rough sex, sadism/masochism, choking, breathplay, dacryphilia, painplay, face slapping, spitting/spit swallowing, finger sucking, biting, rough body play, rough breast/nipple play, brief food play, multiple orgasms, cock warming, pillow humping, scent kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, heavy degradation, some praise, pet names (sweetheart, baby, kiddo), possessive sex, possessive behavior, aftercare, controlling behavior, referenced abduction, referenced sex as payment, stockholm syndrome, a mean hot man—please please please let me know if i forgot to tag something!!!

word count: 14.2k

a/n: its been so long since i started writing this installment that i don't remember where the idea came from, but i think i wanted at least one more chapter about Ari and reader's relationship before the big finale where he takes her to see his friends. truthfully, i just don't want to finish this series because i love them so much, but i do think they needed to take this step before the ending. and i SWEAR the next update will be the finale (and the one where reader gets used by Lloyd and Curtis 🤭). anyway, i hope you enjoy this filth—with some surprisingly emotional relationship development!!

trucker king masterlist

Warm, dappled, late morning sunlight fell across your bare legs, which were twisted in well-worn sheets that felt like butter against your body. A deep, satisfied ache throbbed in your core while the rest of your limbs were loose and relaxed.

It was the perfect way to wake up, in your opinion, drifting lazily into the real world from the depths of sleep with a smile on your face, and a bone-deep knowledge that you were right where you belonged. 

But, somewhere between sleeping and waking, you realized something: Something wasn’t right in your near-perfect world. Something was…missing.

Heaving a disgruntled little sigh, your hands went searching through the soft, tangled sheets and mussed blankets of the oversized bed, looking for the familiar warmth and weight of your trucker. But your seeking fingers came up empty, and the corners of your mouth tipped down into an unhappy frown when you realized what that meant. 

Ari Levinson wasn’t where he was supposed to be—he wasn’t in bed with you.

You huffed a frustrated sound as you rolled onto Ari’s side of the bed, burying your face in one of his pillows and inhaled the musky, masculine scent that was all him. Your hands were still searching in vain for your trucker, because you had to be sure he wasn’t there, but refused to open your eyes just yet.

Another discontented noise slipped from your lips, muffled by the pillow, as you reached for him only to find nothing but cold sheets and empty air. The bed you shared with Ari at his cozy bungalow by the sea was large, especially compared to the bunk in his truck, but you knew before you raised your head and cracked an eye open that he wasn’t there. 

For a moment, you were overwhelmed with yearning to be back in the cab of his truck, where there wasn’t as much space and Ari was always within reach. You’d taken it for granted that your trucker was always so afraid of you leaving that he never left you alone for long. 

If there was one major difference about being in Ari’s home after he’d completed the long-haul route where he’d found you, it was the sheer amount of space the bungalow afforded. Even glancing around the modest-sized bedroom, which the two of you kept relatively neat despite all the clothes and things you’d begun to acquire since Ari brought you home, it seemed like more space than either of you really needed.

Closing your eyes again, sleep still tugging at the edges of your consciousness, you strained your ears for any sign of your trucker moving around in the bathroom attached to the bedroom, or the living room or kitchen beyond. But there was only silence, nothing to indicate where Ari was. 

All of a sudden, a terrifying thought occurred to you: Was Ari…gone? Had he left you? 

An inexplicable fear clenched in your stomach as you turned over, rolling toward the windows that overlooked the small backyard attached to Ari’s house. His pickup truck—the one he drove when he wasn’t steering a big rig around the country—wasn’t in the driveway or the detached garage. 

The lazy weight of sleep cleared from your mind and body, quickly being replaced by panic and anxiety. Instinctively, your fingers lifted to your neck, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you felt one of your collars still circling your neck. 

The chain was thin and delicate against your skin, but deceptively strong, unable to be broken without serious strength or tools. The heart-shaped pendant engraved with ‘Baby’ on the front, and ‘Property of Ari Levinson’ on the back, still rested in the hollow of your throat.

The collar looked like a normal necklace, but it had a locking mechanism that only Ari could unfasten. No one else could take it off—including you—and it was still on, which you took as a good sign. 

Surely, if Ari had decided to leave you, he would’ve unlocked your collar first. Right?

Despite the reassurance you felt from the collar around your neck, a sense of unease still settled low in your stomach, making it churn. Something was off. 

Ari very rarely left you alone, and when he did, he always chained you up first. In fact, the only time he’d gone out without you was when he’d taken the cab of his rig to be inspected by the company he worked for. 

Before he’d left, Ari had looped your thick black leather collar around your throat and attached it to a chain tied to his bed, with enough slack for you to go to the bathroom if you needed. He’d left you with food and water and made the trek to the company’s inspection location on his own, since bringing you would’ve raised too many questions.

It was the longest the two of you had been apart since he’d picked you up off the side of the road—and you’d missed your trucker while he’d been gone. You’d happily accepted the collar and the chain and waited for him to return, because you’d known he would. 

You knew how it would sound to someone else if you ever told anyone—you knew it was more than a little messed up, the lengths to which Ari went to make sure you stayed with him. But you’d asked for the collar, you’d consented to being locked up and chained to his bed while he was gone.

After a lifetime spent begging people to love you—even people like your parents, who were supposed to love you unconditionally—and clinging on to men who barely tolerated your existence until they finally got sick of you and dumped you from their lives (literally, in the case of your most recent ex), being with Ari was exactly what you needed. 

It was what you wanted—a man who didn’t notice how needy or clingy you were because he was too busy clinging to you. He needed you just as much as you needed him, and he was so afraid of you leaving him that you never had to worry about him leaving you. 

Even after all your time together, Ari was still worried you’d run. He was trying to get better about trusting you, and believing you actually wanted to stay with him, but it was taking time. Thankfully, you had plenty of patience, and a deep desire to prove you were nothing like the people who’d left you—or the ones who’d left him. 

As far as you could tell, it had been going well. Since he’d brought you home, Ari had been getting better about letting you out of his sight. Sometimes he’d leave you to read in bed while he watched TV in the living room, or let you shower on your own while he cooked in the kitchen. 

But those were small steps. Leaving you home alone without a chain keeping you there… You had to wonder if Ari had forgotten to chain you up.  

But it was hard to believe Ari would forget such a thing. He wasn’t the type of man who’d care about waking you up to put your leather collar on, and he was possessive enough that it bordered on obsession. You couldn’t wrap your mind around the thought of your trucker forgetting to chain you up before leaving you on your own. 

There was only one other explanation you could think of: It must’ve been a test. And if it was a test, it meant you could ace it—and you could show Ari that he could trust you enough to be there when he got back.

Still, you were curious about how much freedom he’d given you. You didn’t think your trucker would actually let you leave, and you were half-convinced he was hiding just outside the front door or around the corner in his truck, waiting for you to run. 

You decided to poke around and find the limits of the false freedom Ari had given you. 

Throwing on one of Ari’s flannel shirts, you padded through the bedroom door into the open plan living room and kitchen at the front of the house. Biting back a smile, you darted to the front door and quietly undid the bolt, then grabbed the handle. 

Yanking the door open, you half expected Ari to be on the other side, waiting to pounce and haul you back inside. But when you whipped it open, prepared to surprise him and jump into your trucker’s thick arms, there was no one. Just the front porch of the bungalow, with its swinging bench and the many plants you’d accumulated since Ari brought you home. 

A fissure of disappointment wormed through your gut, and your heart panged with longing—not for the world outside the bungalow, but for your trucker. It had been a long while since you’d woken up alone, since before he’d picked you up off the side of the road and didn’t let you go, and you decided, right then, you didn’t care for it. 

Tentatively, still sure Ari was lying in wait for you, you stepped outside into the warm, spring sunlight. The chill of morning was still clinging to the smooth wooden boards beneath your bare feet, but the sun and the sultry breeze off the sea were ensuring it would be a beautiful day. 

You took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of salt wafting in from the ocean, and let a smile settle on your lips. You really loved the place Ari called home, and you were glad you got to be there with him—that he’d let you make it your home as well. 

Stooping down, you checked on some of your plants, still thinking Ari was probably watching you and waiting for you to run. But when he didn’t show, you shrugged to yourself. With one last look around the neighborhood, which had long since woken and settled into their day, you headed back inside. 

You locked the front door behind you and skipped back to the bedroom, more than happy to wait for your trucker to return from the comfort of his bed. There was still a fissure of unease in your gut, telling you something was off, but you chalked it up to the unfamiliarity of waking up without Ari.

Shedding the flannel shirt you’d donned to go outside, you dove back into bed naked, the soft sheets tangling around your bare body. Your face found Ari’s pillow instinctively, and you breathed in deeply, inhaling the delicious, familiar scent of his musk. The thick smell went straight to your head, making your thoughts a little fuzzy while desire bloomed in your core.

Ari was, generally, cleaner while you’d been at his house and he could avail himself of his private bathroom, as opposed to when you were on the road and he didn’t get a chance to shower as often. But frankly, you missed the pungent, spicy scent of his sweat, the way his smell permeated every inch of the truck cab, surrounding you and seeping into your skin until you smelled like him, too.

You took another deep whiff of his pillow, where his scent was embedded deep into the fabric. A heavenly warmth flooded your body, settling between your bare thighs, wetness gathering at your slit. All from the mere scent of your trucker. It was pathetic, how turned on you were from Ari’s smell, but you couldn’t help it—and you needed more.

You whimpered into his pillow, your lips parting and drool beginning to drip from the corner of your mouth as you inhaled his smell again and again. Need rolled through you like a freight train, your body reacting instinctively to Ari’s scent and preparing yourself for his cock in your cunt.

But he was gone, and you didn’t know when he was coming back. You didn’t know how long his test would last, how long he’d give you to run away only for him to catch you. But you were determined to be ready and waiting for your reward when he inevitably returned and found you still in his bed. 

Your pitiful whimpers devolved into needy whines the more you huffed Ari’s scent. It wasn’t long before your hips were rocking in a humping motion, though there was only air and the thin bedsheets for you thrust against. Neither were the thick cock of your trucker, and it made your mind even fuzzier with a desperate yearning for him.

Needing more friction, you rolled onto your front and dug your knees into the mattress. You shoved a pillow between your thighs that also smelled like Ari, and pressed your dripping slit down on the seam. You didn’t care if you made a mess of the pillow, it was the closest you could get to what you really needed.

You squeezed the pillow between your thighs and humped helplessly against it, grinding your greedy pussy on its softness so that every thrust of your hips rubbed your clit against the seam along the side. All the while, you kept your face shoved into Ari’s other pillow, inhaling his scent like you were getting high off it.

The delicious friction of humping Ari’s pillow was enough to keep you turned on, but the plush softness was too yielding for you to get off. So all you could do was chase your pleasure even as it remained constantly out of reach. You were writhing like a mindless thing while you waited for your trucker to return.

That was how Ari found you—with your ass in the air, hips humping his pillow, your face planted his other pillow while you moaned and drooled over the scent of his musk. 

You didn’t notice your trucker at first, and you didn’t know how long he stood at the edge of the bed watching you, but when he spoke, his rumbling, familiar voice brought you out of the delicious daze you’d fallen into. 

“Well, what do we have here?” Ari asked, a predatory grin in his deep voice. 

You turned your head toward the sound of him, finding your trucker towering over your naked body, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, a bulge already standing proudly in the front of his pants. He looked like a king—a god—and you were more than happy to be on your knees in front of him.

“I couldn’t leave you for an hour without you humping my pillow like a bitch in heat, huh, cock whore?” Ari teased, a cruel kind of mischief glinting sharply in his blue eyes. 

That look sent a shiver of need racing down your spine, but you barely had a chance to let out a pitiful whine before Ari’s hand was wrapping around the front of your throat, just below your chin, and he was lifting your head from his pillow. 

He manhandled your body into the position he wanted, sitting you up on your haunches, wringing a moan from your throat when the seam of the pillow rubbed against your sensitive clit. You watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, noticing the moment his gaze fell to your neck.

Something like panic flashed in Ari’s eyes before they filled with rage, his gaze narrowing on the hollow of your throat.

“Baby, where’s your leather collar?” he asked in a growl, his voice lower and more dangerous than you’d ever heard it. “Where’s your chain?”

It was taking every single one of your braincells to resist the urge to paw at his cock through his jeans and beg him to fuck you, so all you could do was blink innocently up at your trucker, your lust-filled mind unable to understand why he was asking those questions. Surely, he knew where your collar and chain were.  

“What d’you mean, daddy?” you asked. “I woke up like this.”

Emotions flitted across Ari’s face, almost too fast for you to understand them, but you recognized suspicion and anger. Then there was something that looked a lot like a tentative kind of hope—before it bled back into fury. 

“You woke up like this,” Ari echoed, each word bitten off like he was using his teeth to tear through stone. 

It was only then that his expression—stormier than you’d seen it in all your time with your trucker—and the tenor of his voice finally broke through the haze of desire that had still been filling your head. 

You blinked rapidly, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Absentmindedly, your fingers brushed the pendant in the hollow of your throat, beneath where Ari’s hand still circled your neck. 

“I thought…” you trailed off, coming to the realization that it hadn’t been intentional. Ari hadn’t been testing you. He’d genuinely forgotten to chain you up before he’d left. 

But that didn’t make sense. He was terrified of you leaving him, of that you were absolutely sure. He’d never forget to make sure you couldn’t leave him. Unless…

Your breath caught in your throat and you hardly dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, Ari had begun to trust you. That somewhere, deep in his subconscious, he’d known he could leave you at home without chaining you up because he could trust you to still be there when he got back. 

“It wasn’t a test?” you asked, your voice so full of hope it threatened to burst like a bubble in your face. 

Ari’s jaw ticked with the force of him grinding his teeth, and he used the hand around your throat to tow you closer, his gaze unreadable as it roved over your face. His fingers dug into the sides of your neck, and for a moment, you saw something wild in Ari’s blue eyes, something that made excitement zip up your spine.

“Did you go outside, baby?” Ari rumbled, a dangerous undercurrent in his voice, a slight tremor in his words. “Be honest—be honest with me right now.”

It spoke to how unsteady your trucker must’ve been feeling that he needed to urge you to be honest. But he didn’t have to worry, you’d never even considered lying to him, especially not when you were so sure you were so close to earning a shred of his trust.

“Just to the porch,” you said, staring deep into Ari’s eyes. “Just to see if you were there.” You paused, remembering the disappointment you’d felt when he hadn’t been there, waiting for you. “I didn’t like waking up alone.”

Ari stared at you for a long, long moment. You held yourself perfectly still, your heart beating a quick, steady rhythm in your chest while you let him look his fill. You had nothing to hide from your trucker—he was your man, your king. Yours. And you were his.

And you were certain, down to your very bones, that he was right on the precipice of finally believing you weren’t going to leave him. You held that hope close to your heart and held your breath, imploring him silently to trust you.

“You didn’t run,” Ari forced out finally, his voice rough and gravelly as an unpaved road. “You coulda run, but you didn’t.” For the first time since he’d noticed your collar and the lack of a chain affixing you to the bed, Ari let his eyes wander down the rest of your body.

His gaze flared and heated as it roved over your naked form, lingering on the way your plush thighs were straddling one of his pillows. The corner of his mouth tipped up in a small smirk when he focused in on your pussy, pressed against the seam of the pillow, an obscene wet spot visible between your thighs. 

“You didn’t leave—you got back into my bed and started humping my pillow,” Ari rumbled, a strange tenor in his tone, like he wasn’t sure if he believed the words he was speaking, even as he saw the truth of them right before his eyes. “Did you…miss me, baby?” 

Ari’s gaze flicked back up to yours, and the smile he gave you was devastating. Not just because he was so handsome—it was, after all, the same smile that had lured into into his truck all those weeks ago—but because you knew him well enough to see the insecurity buried deep in the depths of his blue eyes. He didn’t believe you could miss him.

It occurred to you then that you’d never told Ari you missed him. Granted, he didn’t often give you an opportunity to miss him, but even after the trip he’d taken to get his rig inspected, you’d been too distracted by his return to tell him how you’d felt while he’d been gone. 

You softened at his question, a sweet smile tugging at the edges of your lips. Your hands reached for him, not out of habit but because you wanted to touch him, your fingers curling in the cotton of his well-worn t-shirt. You pulled him even closer to the edge of the bed, his thighs pressing against the mattress. 

It was all too easy and enjoyable to kiss your trucker, to press your lips against his and smile as his thick beard tickled your cheeks. Ari’s mouth was soft and yielding beneath yours, and you took the opportunity to flick your tongue teasingly against the seam of his lips, grinning when he rumbled a hungry growl deep in his chest.

“I like you, Ari,” you murmured against his mouth before pulling back and staring deep into his eyes, willing him to hear you—to believe you. “And yes, I missed you. I didn’t like waking up alone,” you repeated what you’d said earlier, your fingers tangling tighter in his shirt. “I didn’t like waking up without you.”

For the first time since you’d met him, Ari seemed at a loss for words. He was quiet, watching you while his mind worked, and you were close enough that you could see the emotions flitting across his gaze—anger and disbelief giving way to something tentative and fragile.

Ari’s hand flexed around your throat, fingers digging into the sides of your neck so deeply, you went a little lightheaded, swaying closer to your trucker’s broad body. He used your closeness to sweep a palm down your spine and grab your ass hard enough to make you yelp, your tits pressing against his firm chest as he hauled you closer.

Then his mouth descended on yours and he was claiming you with a kiss. There was a feral kind of possessiveness in the way Ari’s lips devoured yours, the way his teeth sank into the soft, plump flesh or your lower lip, and the way his tongue swept into your mouth, plunging deep like he was determined to lick your soul out from your throat. 

Ari’s kiss was an assault on your senses, immediately overwhelming, and it was all you could do to let your body succumb to the sensations, giving your body to your trucker just as much as you’d already given him your heart. 

He claimed and he claimed and he claimed your mouth until your head was dizzy from a lack of air, and even then, Ari didn’t stop until you were squirming desperately in his arms. Finally, he wrenched his lips from yours, leaving you both gasping for air, your trucker’s broad chest heaving in time with yours where you were crushed against his body.

“You missed getting woken up with my cock in your cunt, didn’t you, you filthy little slut?” Ari cooed meanly, pushing you back so he could grin at the kiss-drunk look on your face while he slapped your ass. “Show me how much you missed me, cock whore. Show me with that depraved little mouth of yours.”

His command was your only warning before Ari shoved you down to the bed, tipping your face up so it was level with his groin. Your nose nudged the bulge in his jeans, and you felt his cock twitch in response, making you smile and nuzzle deeper into his lap.

You weren’t surprised by the shift in your trucker’s mood, or by the fact that he was steering you both back to much more familiar territory rather than confronting the implications of what you’d said—or what he’d done by forgetting to chain you up before he’d gone out. Ari wasn’t the type of man to talk about his feelings, but that didn’t mean something wasn’t shifting between you two.

Ari was finally starting to trust you, to believe that you weren’t going to leave him. You were sure of it. You just had to be patient while he came to terms with it. And if that meant sucking his cock instead of talking more? Well, it wasn’t like you didn’t love having Ari’s cock down your throat. 

You let the conversation go and pressed your face against Ari’s bulge, kissing and licking his hardness through his jeans, moaning when you inhaled the familiar scent of him straight from the source. Your fingers fumbled with the button and fly of his jeans, not bothering to pull your face away because you couldn’t bear to move. 

Besides, you knew Ari would give you a hand when he was good and ready. So you focused most of your attention on worshipping his cock through his jeans, running your tongue along the thick length of him through the rough denim, mouthing and sucking on the tip until the fabric was drenched in your spit. 

Eventually, Ari grew tired of you whining for his cock and fumbling with his fly, and he took over. He made quick work of undoing his jeans for you, shoving them down his thick thighs until his massive cock bounced free—right into your face. 

The long, girthy length bumped your nose and you purred happily, kissing the base of his cock and flicking your tongue out to lap at his balls. Then you craned your neck up to look at your trucker, his cock laying across your cheek as a sultry smile spread across your face. 

“I missed your cock sooo much, daddy,” you purred, giving Ari what he wanted—what he needed. You pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses along the line of his shaft while smiling up at your trucker. “Missed waking up to your fat cock splitting open my tight cunt, missed creaming all over your big dick first thing in the morning.” 

You cut off your own gushing words by taking Ari’s flushed tip into your mouth and sucking him deep into your throat. The tension that had begun to bleed from his body while you spoke drained entirely as you bobbed your mouth on his cock. You gave him a sloppy blowjob, drool filling your mouth and leaking from the corners to make a mess of your chin.

Ari’s broad shoulders were relaxed and his big hands were holding your face while his head dropped back, a pleased groan tumbling from his lips as his hips shunted forward, forcing his cock deeper into your throat. You gagged, making wet gluk-gluk-gluk sounds as he fucked your throat, trying to loosen and let him deeper as your hips humped idly against the pillow still stuck between your thighs. 

“Such a hungry little cock whore,” Ari rumbled, his voice rolling over you like the crashing waves of the near-distant ocean, sending pleasure down your spine and making you moan around his big cock. “Good slut, take daddy’s cock deep into that filthy mouth—lemme fuck your throat like it’s a pussy.”

Your trucker’s hips thrust forward and he buried his cock all the way to the base in your mouth, using his grip to hold you down while you choked and gagged and tried to get used to the thick girth of him. All the while, Ari groaned his pleasure, enjoying the way your throat clenched around his cock, until finally you managed to relax your muscles.

When you blinked tears from your eyes, you looked up and found your trucker grinning almost affectionately down at you, his eyes glittering like the bright sunshine off the blue water of the sea. His thumb brushed a tear from your cheek, then pushed it into the corner of your mouth beside his thick cock, feeding you your salty tears while he chuckled at the way his thumb distorted your face. 

“Are you thirsty, too, kiddo?” Ari cooed condescendingly, barely waiting for you to even think about nodding before he was moving. 

Pulling his cock from your mouth with an obscene wet sound, Ari lifted your head away from his groin, giving you a half-hearted glare when you whimpered pathetically at the loss of his heavy weight on your tongue. His hand wrapped around the underside of your chin, fingers digging into your cheeks as a slow, cruel grin curled his mouth.

“Open up, baby, and stick out your tongue for daddy.”

Obediently, you did as Ari commanded, opening your mouth wide and pushing your tongue out eagerly, waiting for what you knew was to come. You watched as Ari gathered saliva on his tongue, your hips wiggling excitedly while he pursed his lips. You stared up at your trucker with pleading eyes. 

Ari’s warm spit hit your tongue and you swallowed it with a pleased smile and a happy humming sound. “Thank you, daddy,” you murmured, your voice husky from how roughly he’d fucked your throat. Then you opened your mouth again and stuck out your tongue, just like your trucker had trained you. 

It made Ari chuckle, and the delicious rumble of it sent a shower of pleasure cascading down your body to settle heavily between your thighs, where your pussy clenched around nothing. A whine worked its way up your throat, and you squirmed in Ari’s hold, not able to ask for what you wanted with your mouth open and tongue out. 

“Still thirsty, sweetheart?” he asked in that patronizing tone you loved so much. 

You nodded your head as best you could with his hand still gripping your chin, but it was enough to make him grin and chuckle condescendingly at your eagerness. “That’s my good slut,” he purred, shifting his hand and pursing his lips, spitting on you again.

Instead of landing on your tongue, though, the glob of spit landed on your cheek, making you flinch a little. Blinking in surprise, opened your mouth wider and stared up at Ari, holding your pose even with his spit on your cheek.

“Oops, baby, I missed,” Ari cooed, his tone so unrepentant that you knew it hadn’t been a mistake. When he gathered more saliva on his tongue and spit on you again, you managed not to flinch even as he missed for a second time. “Fuck, I keep missing—guess I’ll just have to feed it to you, huh?”

Ari held your throat firmly in his grip while using the fingers of his other hand to gather up the spit on your cheek. Without warning, he shoved two of his fingers deep into your mouth, feeding you his spit while you choked and gagged on him. 

More tears sprang to your eyes as he pushed the tips of his thick fingers against the back of your throat, making you struggle and squirm in his grip. But Ari was unrelenting, his blue eyes sparkling with humor as he pulled his fingers free, scooped up the rest of his spit and thrust back into your mouth. 

“That’s it, kiddo, take daddy’s fingers deep in that pretty little throat,” Ari muttered, his gaze bright and intense as he watched you try hard to take his fingers. “Choke on them just like you gag on my big daddy dick.”

Warmth rushed through your body at his filthy, degrading words, and you loved it. You loved the way he treated, you the way he talked to you, and you wanted to be good for him, to do as he said. So you steeled yourself, learning Ari’s rhythm and starting to meet his thrusting fingers with a forward bob of your head.

Ari laughed when he realized what you were doing, the pleased sound washing over you as deliciously as any praise, and the corners of your mouth tipped up in a smile while drool and spit and tears streamed down your face. 

You were a mess, but you knew your trucker loved defiling your face and body, so you didn’t make any move to wipe yourself clean. Your hands stayed curled in his t-shirt, clinging to your trucker while he had his fun with you.

“That’s my girl,” Ari purred, pulling his fingers from your mouth and laughing huskily as you sucked in air. His hand squeezed around your throat until your gaze met his. “I take such good care of you, don’t I, kiddo?” he asked, a wolfish smile spreading across his handsome face.

For some reason, Ari’s question struck a chord deep in your heart, and your breath caught in your throat. You weren’t sure if there was a deeper meaning to his question, or if you were just reading into it too much, but it didn’t feel like simple dirty talk anymore. Without thinking, you let the truth spill from your lips.

“Yes, you do, daddy. You know exactly how to take care of me,” you said in a rush, the words nearly tripping over themselves in their eagerness to tumble off your tongue. “You’re everything I need, you’re everything I want—you’re everything to me, Ari.”

It was the closest you’d ever come to saying how you truly felt about your trucker, and as soon as the words were out of your mouth, you went completely still, horror washing through your heart that you might’ve read the situation and his mood wrong. Your eyes went wide, like you couldn’t believe what you’d just admitted, and waited for Ari to react. 

Everything in your gut told you he was going to dump you, that you’d pushed him too far and he was going to retreat into himself and do what everyone had always done to you—leave. As the seconds ticked on, with Ari’s unreadable blue eyes raking over your face, you were more and more certain he was going to pull away and leave you all alone.

“Fuck, I need to be inside you,” Ari muttered, something deep inside your trucker snapping. 

Between one breath and the next, he was using his hand around your neck to shove you backward onto the bed, his big body chasing you down and climbing onto the mattress to cover you.

It wasn’t graceful, the way Ari bullied his hips between your thighs, and it wasn’t gentle, the way he shoved his cock into your cunt without preparation. A startled cry burst from your lips, but your trucker didn’t stop, pulling his hips back and plunging into your pussy again.

It felt like he was splitting you open with his thick girth, but you relished the sting because it meant Ari wasn’t leaving. Instead, he was pushing deeper and deeper into your body, like he planned to stake his claim on your heart, and build a home between your ribs. 

“Ari, please,” you whined, clawing at the t-shirt he still wore until he paused long enough to tear it off over his head. Then you pulled him back down on top of you, so his big body was crushing yours into the mussed blankets of the bed. “I need more—I need it all, daddy. I need you, please.”

You pressed your face into Ari’s beard just under his jaw so you could whimper your desperate pleas and keening sounds straight into the pulse thrumming beneath his skin. Your ankles hooked around the backs of his thighs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, clinging to your trucker for dear life as he worked his cock deeper into your body.

“That’s fucking right,” Ari growled, pulling his hips back until only the tip of his cock remained inside you, then his hips drove forward, impaling you completely with one brutal thrust on his final word. 

You screamed your pleasure into Ari’s beard, the cry feeling like it was torn from your throat. Already, you were shaking and overwhelmed with the delicious mix of pleasure and pain only your trucker offered, but he didn’t give you even a moment to acclimate before he started fucking you, words spilling from his lips.

“You fucking need me, don’t you, baby?” Ari seethed, biting his words out through gritted teeth while he fucked you in hard, merciless strokes, making you feel every inch of his thick length as it pounded into your helpless, greedy pussy. “You need me and only me—and you’ll never fucking leave me, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Ari’s words were a condescending sneer, but you knew your trucker well enough to hear the need beneath his tone. He was just as scared of you leaving him as you were of him leaving you. He needed reassurance that you weren’t going to abandon him, and you were more than happy to give it.

“Yes, yes, Ari, I’ll never leave you—I need you,” you cried, tears streaming from your eyes as emotion and pleasure swirled dangerously in your belly. “I need you, daddy, I need you. Oh god, I need…”

You trailed off as a wailing sob of pleasure worked its way up your throat, spilling from your parted lips. You buried your face deeper into Ari’s beard, trying to muffle your pathetic sounds, even as they spurred your trucker on, his hips snapping furiously between your thighs. 

“Come, cock whore,” Ari commanded, fucking you hard into the mattress. “Show daddy what a perfect little slut you are, kiddo, and come all over my big, fat dick.” 

He was everywhere—his broad body covering yours, hips snapping between your thighs to bury his thick cock deep in your pussy, hitting a spot that had your breath hitching on a scream. He wrapped himself around you, his biceps bulging deliciously next to your head as he held you in the cage of his arms. 

Ari pounded into you harder, one of his hands finding your throat and squeezing the sides until you could barely breathe. His teeth nipped at your neck, the sting of pain adding a delicious edge to the pleasure, before he was growling words in your ear that would ruin you. 

“Come for me, baby,” Ari cooed meanly. “While I split this cunt open in the way only I can, so you’ll never forget that you fucking need me.”

With a strangled scream, you came undone, your very being unravelling at the unguarded emotion in Ari’s words and the perfect way his cock filled you, fucked you. Pleasure washed over you and through you, shaking you down to your soul while you came apart on Ari’s cock. 

Black crept into your vision, and you didn’t even care, your mind too focused on the bliss spiralling through your body. But before you could pass out, Ari relented, a grunt spilling from his lips as he buried his face in your neck, sucking on your pulse point hard enough that your pussy clasped weakly around his cock.

Ari’s hips stuttered in their rhythm before he pressed himself deep in your cunt, but you didn’t feel the twitching throb of his release filling you. He squeezed you tight in his arms, a slight tremble wracking his body like he was exerting a great deal of effort.

As you came back to yourself, you noticed your trucker was still obscenely hard inside you. You felt strangely hollow without his come leaking out around his cock. A thread of unease worked down your spine, and you lifted shaking fingers to tangle in his hair. 

“Ari…?” you asked, your voice small and anxious in a way you hadn’t heard it since you’d gotten into his truck. You hated how uncertain and vulnerable you sounded, but in all your time with your trucker, you couldn’t think of any time when he hadn’t come inside you.

Before you could wonder what you’d done wrong, Ari lifted up enough so he could meet your gaze with his dark blue eyes. He shot you a depraved little smirk, something almost affectionate in the way his eyes crinkled at the edges. 

“You did good, baby,” he murmured charmingly, even as a little bit of condescension crept into his tone. “But I’m not done with you yet.” 

His praise soothed the anxiety curdling in your belly, and you were so preoccupied by your relief, it took you a moment to understand his words. You didn’t think you imagined the perverted glint in his gaze, and an echoing smile tugged at the edges of your mouth.

Ari pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “I got something for you while I was out,” he explained, still remaining vague. “Something to prepare you for when I take you to meet my friends.”

That statement piqued your curiosity, and you brightened at the idea of a present. While living with Ari, he’d made sure you wanted for nothing important, and got you little gifts sometimes. But it was rare for him to get you something for a reason so mysterious, and it made you excited to see what it could be. 

“What is it?” you asked, your voice still a little breathless from your release—and from your eagerness to see what he’d gotten you.

Extricating himself from your body, and ignoring the low moan that slipped from your lips when he pulled his still-hard cock from your sensitive pussy, Ari stood from the bed. He shed what remained of his clothes, and grabbed a paper bag from where he’d dropped it just inside the bedroom door.

You lifted your head, but couldn’t make out what was in the bag. To your surprise, Ari didn’t immediately rejoin you on the bed. Instead, he stalked into the bathroom, as if on a mission, leaving you to wonder what on Earth he was doing. 

For a moment, you were distracted by the sight of Ari’s naked body. 

After so much time on the road, when you only got to see bits and parts of his body—his bare chest with its thick coat of hair that felt delicious against your tightened nipples, or his tree-trunk thighs with their muscles flexing beneath your fingertips when he fucked your throat—it still felt like a treat to see his whole bare form so often.

And you were positively gluttonous for it. Your gaze raked down Ari’s body, appreciating the broad cut of his shoulders, every golden inch of his skin, every thick thatch of hair, every ridge and vein of his fat cock as it bobbed between his thighs, every sinew and muscle moving as he walked to the bathroom. 

As he disappeared through the doorway, you got a good look at Ari’s ass, and you nearly whimpered at the sight of it. Wildly, you had the impulse to bite it, your core clenching and a sultry smile spreading across your face at the idea of what your trucker might do in retaliation. Whatever it was, you knew it’d be deliciously depraved…

Those thoughts kept you occupied while Ari busied himself in the bathroom, doing whatever it was he was doing. Distantly, you heard plastic tearing open and running water, but couldn’t fathom what it meant, not when you were imagining your trucker marking your ass in his own, filthy way.

You were so distracted by your fantasies, you almost missed Ari emerging from the bathroom. Once you noticed his appearance, you smiled at your trucker, your gaze sliding curiously to his hands. When you saw what Ari was holding, your eyes widened in surprise and your breath caught in your throat on a soft gasp.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” Ari rumbled in response to the expression on your face, a sadistic smirk tugging at his mouth. “It’ll fit.”

Your gaze flicked between Ari’s ruthlessly handsome face and the positively massive dildo in his hands, not so sure he was right about that. Sure, your trucker had a big cock, and you’d even taken his fist before, but the silicone cock he was holding looked even more intimidating.

“On your knees.”

It didn’t surprise you that Ari wasn’t giving you a chance to wrap your mind around the idea of taking such a large toy for him, but still, you were too distracted to follow his command immediately. Impatient for your obedience, your trucker stepped closer to the bed, grabbed your ankles and flipped you onto your stomach. 

You let Ari manhandle you into position while your thoughts remained caught on the huge dildo he held. Even without your eyes on it, you could still picture it. It was the thickest, fatest cock you’d ever seen—almost unnaturally so. 

It was the kind of cock that could split you open, stretch you beyond belief, ruin you for anyone but Ari…

Somehow, that thought made your pussy pulse with renewed desire, more wetness gathering in your already messy slit and coating your already drenched folds. Your thighs were sticky from your earlier release, but already your body craved more. 

Suddenly, you didn’t care if that included the fake dick Ari had gotten you, even if it was going to take some work to take it into your body. Your inner muscles clenched around nothing, begging to be filled—begging to be ruined by Ari’s cock and the toy he’d gotten for you.

As he arranged your body so that you were head down, ass up on the mussed sheets of the bed, you wondered which of your holes he intended to use the dildo on. Your body squirmed a little in excitement, your hips swaying slightly side to side as your heart beat excitedly in your chest. 

Once you were in position, you heard the sheets rustling behind you, the slight creak of the mattress’s bedsprings, and craned your head to look over your shoulder to see what Ari was doing. You watched his large body climb onto the bed, moving as swiftly and gracefully as a predator as he got behind you.

Your trucker was wearing an evil smirk on his handsome face, which only deepened when he caught you looking. He laid the thick shaft of the sex toy in the valley of your ass cheeks, letting you feel the weight and girth of it while he grabbed your hips and positioned himself.

His knees dug into the mattress on the outside of yours, forcing you to press your thighs together. You knew the position would make you feel tighter for him, and make his cock and the dildo feel even bigger inside your body. Your belly swooped with another surge of excitement, your desire dripping from your slit and making a mess of your thighs.

“What’s the occasion for the present, daddy?” you asked breathlessly, trying to distract yourself so you didn’t whine for Ari to fuck you already. “It’s not my birthday,” you said saucily, lowering your upper body down to the bed, arching your spine and presenting your ass for your trucker. 

“There’s no occasion, sweetheart, it’s to prepare you,” Ari reminded you, a depraved kind of humor in his tone. He gave your ass an affectionate smack, nearly dislodging the dildo from where it lay.

You only had time to giggle at the feel of your ass jiggling before Ari swiped the toy cock and shoved it deep into your pussy. Your laugh cut off in a scream, the thick intrusion of the dildo filling you up so suddenly, it punched the sound from your lungs. 

In all your time with your trucker, you’d gotten used to  Ari thrusting his big cock into your tight hole, but it felt different with the dildo. The feeling wasn’t necessarily unpleasant—you were plenty wet enough to take the thick toy, and it felt good to be stretched—but you still would’ve preferred to have your trucker’s cock inside you than the silicone dildo.

“Hnghh, daddy,” you gasped when you were able to suck in some air and breathe around the fake cock filling your cunt. 

It wasn’t like Ari to give you time to adjust, and sure enough, your trucker began fucking you in short, deep thrusts with the toy. But you were still curious about why he was using the dildo and not his own cock—why he hadn’t come inside you. 

“Prepare me for what?” you asked, dredging the words from the depths of your mind as you tried to continue the conversation.

Ari didn’t answer you right away, focusing instead on fucking you harder and faster with the silicone cock. You melted into the bed, basking in the pleasure the toy offered and letting loud moans spill uninhibited from your lips. You were halfway to mindless when he finally spoke, ignoring your question.

“Look at you, cock whore, you really were made for this—made for taking cock and enjoying it,” he rumbled, something close to awe in his tone. He pounded into you with the dildo, and you were so wet, your pussy was making obscene squelching sounds that had Ari chuckling. “Tell me, baby, d’you like this toy cock better than mine?” 

There was a low, dangerous warning in the teasing way Ari asked the question, and your cunt clasped reflexively around the dildo, trying to suck it deeper into your body. Ari obliged, pushing the fake cock into your hole until it hit the end of you, then he bullied your cervix with it, adding a delicious edge of pain to your pleasure.

“No, never,” you cried into the sheets, drool dripping from your parted lips and tears leaking from your eyes. “Yours is the best dick I’ll ever have,” you gushed, the truth spilling easily from your mouth while your body took everything your trucker had to give. “I love your cock, daddy, I love it so much—nothing will ever compare. It’s all I ever want for the rest of my life.”

Ari laughed, the sound mocking and a little bit affectionate, sending pulses of warmth straight to your pussy and heart. He slowed the pounding of the toy cock, changing the pace to deep, long thrusts that had you gasping and making the most pornographic sounds that had ever come from your lips.

“There’s something wrong with you, baby, if you love my dirty, filthy trucker cock that much,” he teased in a patronizing tone that made you clench even harder around the fake cock. 

Without warning, Ari brought his hand down on your ass in a sharp spank, but it wasn’t punishing—it was a reward, one that he repeated on the other cheek, slapping you hard enough for the sound to reverberate around the room. It made you moan so loud, you almost didn’t hear his next words.

“There’s something wrong with you if I’m what you want.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest and you whipped your head around to look at Ari over your shoulder. His dark blue eyes were fathomless as he stared into your face, a challenge in his expression. You realized, suddenly, that he expected you to fight him, to tell him there wasn’t anything wrong with either of you—and you knew that he knew it would be lie.

Instead, you told him the truth.

“There is something wrong with me, Ari,” you told him seriously, no hint of a joke in your tone. “And you’re a sick, perverted man for taking advantage of it—but I’m exactly where I want to be.” You folded your hands on top of each other and lay your cheek on them, giving Ari your most wicked smirk. “So do your worst, daddy. I can take it.”

With a feral sound, Ari fell on top of you, grabbing your face and pulling you into a wild, unrestrained kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth and taking possession. 

He kissed you as violently as he fucked you, pouring so much emotion into your mouth that it made your head spin. He was hungry, ravenous, and it was all you could do to meet him with your own desire and passion.

Finally, Ari pulled away and sucked in a deep breath, leaving you gasping. He patted your cheek patronizingly, more than a little fondness in the gesture. 

“That’s my girl,” he growled against your mouth, nipping at your kiss-swollen lower lip before finally sitting back on his haunches. “Now, let’s hope you got this toy cock nice and slick, sweetheart, because I forgot to grab some lube while I was out.”

You knew your trucker well enough to know when he wasn’t telling the truth, and in that moment, you knew he hadn’t forgotten anything. He’d planned to use the dildo on your ass no matter how slick it was, and that depraved realization had you moaning low in your throat, the sound ratcheting higher into a whine when Ari pulled the toy cock from your pussy.

You barely had time to mourn the thick fullness in your cunt before the rounded head of the fake cock was pressing against the tight rosebud of your ass. You were no stranger to having Ari fuck your ass, and your body relaxed on instinct to make his entrance easier on both of you.

“Be a good slut and let me in, cock whore,” Ari urged, pushing the dildo into your ass. When the tip popped past the ring of muscle, you groaned obscenely, your body twitching at the thick intrusion. “Good girl, relax—I wanna see your ass take your new toy to the root.”

Little by little, your body yielded to the dildo. You let out a long, loud moan as Ari filled you with inch after thick, rigid inch of the fake cock. You panted while it slipped deeper and deeper, until the flared base finally pressed to your asscheeks. 

When the dildo was fully buried in your ass, you let out an exhale of relief, feeling proud of yourself for taking everything Ari had given you. You felt so full, even as your pussy clenched weakly, your desire dripping down your thighs and making them sticky with your lust. 

But still, you knew Ari wasn’t done. If he’d wanted to fuck your ass, he could’ve used his own cock. Your mind flicked back to what he’d told you earlier, about how he was trying to prepare you for something. 

Suddenly, you had an inkling of what might be coming—especially with your trip to visit his friends looming so close on the horizon. Your theory was confirmed when Ari sat up on his knees and lined up his cock with your pussy. You only had time to suck in an excited breath and angle your hips higher before he began pushing inside.

“Fuck, kiddo, you feel so fucking tight like this,” Ari growled, his palms grabbing big handfuls of your ass, his thumbs holding the dildo deep in your hole. “Your cunt’s choking my cock—it’s fucking heaven,” he said, his words almost slurred with pleasure. 

Ari used his grip on your body to pull you further onto his hard, thick length, wringing a pathetic whine from your lips while he groaned his pleasure loudly. It was right on the edge of too much, your ass stuffed full and his fat cock pushing deeper and deeper, filling you beyond what you thought possible.

“Maybe I should always fuck you like this, cock whore,” Ari rumbled, a hint of teasing in his tone. “Fake cock buried in one hole to make you tighter for me—or maybe I’ll fuck you with both in one hole and fucking ruin you. Gape you so wide you won’t be able to feel a single cock anymore.”

A desperate, helpless whine caught in your throat at his words, at the unbelievable stretch of being filled with two cocks and trying to imagine both in one hole. “Ari—oh my god, Ari,” was all you could manage as your mind was overwhelmed with sensation.

You felt your trucker everywhere—his cock drilling deeper into your cunt, his hands holding your hips like he never planned to let go, his scent invading your lungs from the sheets pressed against your cheek. It felt like he was damn near imprinted on your soul with how thoroughly he was possessing you. You’d never felt such exquisite ecstasy.

When Ari was finally fully buried to the root inside your pussy, he dug one of his arms underneath your chest, his palm skimming up the valley between your tits to wrap around your throat. Using his grip on your neck, Ari hauled you up, sitting back on his haunches so you were seated on his cock.

The position had his hard length and the dildo thrusting another inch deeper into your cunt and ass, his pelvis holding the toy plugged in your hole. You cried out, the pain-edged pleasure almost too much, making you squirm between Ari’s thick thighs at the impossible fullness you felt. 

But your trucker simply banded his other arm around your waist, holding you pinned right where he wanted you, impaled on his cock and the toy he’d gotten for this exact reason. All you could do was pant through the mind-boggling sensation of being stuffed so full, your cunt dripping indecently as pleasure burned through your blood.

“Look at you, taking two cocks in your holes,” Ari cooed in your ear, his big hand wrapped around your throat like a collar. “You’re such a dirty, slutty cock whore, baby,” he hummed, rolling his hips and fucking you in one, long, languid movement that made it feel like he was thrusting impossibly deeper into your body.

“Ari, it’s t-too much,” you cried. You’d lost control of yourself under the onslaught of pleasure, your hips wiggling, body writhing, fighting to get away from the overwhelmingly fullness between your thighs. You were in serious danger of blacking out from the devastating euphoria.

A deep, rumbling chuckle sounded in Ari’s chest, teasing down your spine. Then, your trucker slapped your tits meanly, his fingers catching cruelly on your nipples. 

Vicious zaps of pain joined the storm of pleasure raging in your body and you screamed, your shoulders pitching forward only for you to be forced back against Ari’s unyielding chest. The ruthless pain brought you crashing back down to earth and you were more aware than ever of Ari, of his cock and the toy inside you, and you succumbed to him.

“Nothing’s too much for you, cock whore,” Ari growled in your ear, a glimmer of pride in his words that was almost hidden beneath the roughness of his tone. “Besides, this is a fucking kindness.” He rolled his hips again, his fingers squeezing around your throat and choking you savagely while he used his other hand to abuse your tits. 

You were helpless in Ari’s arms, and it felt glorious giving the entirety of yourself over to your trucker. You were his toy to use, and it made you feel good to be used, to be the filthy, depraved cock whore he called you. You were never happier than when your trucker let loose and truly did as he pleased with you, just like he was in that moment.

So overcome by your pleasure, you nearly missed Ari’s next words, but somehow they penetrated the lustful haze in your head.

“Next week, we’ll be paying my friends a visit, and I’ll pay them for their services by letting them do damn near anything they want to you,” Ari rumbled, punctuating his words with rough thrusts of his hips, fucking you deeper with his cock and pushing the dildo in your ass. “And if I know my friends, they’re going to get creative about how they fuck you.”

Your mouth was open, helpless whines and desperate moans spilling from your lips uninhibited. You couldn’t control the sounds coming from your mouth, just like you couldn’t control the way your body shivered and your cunt clenched hard at Ari’s threatening words. And he wasn’t done.

“They might split your cunt and ass open on their cocks, sweetheart, and they’ll care even less than I do about whether it’s too much for you,” Ari ground out, using his hand around your throat to tip your head back so he could meet your gaze out of the corner of your eye. “You should thank me, baby, for preparing you with my cock and your new toy so they don’t tear you apart.”

“Thank you, daddy. Thank you, daddy. Thank you, daddy,” you babbled, sobbing your pleasure, your tongue loosened by the sheer amount of delicious delirium surging through your body. “You’re so good to me, daddy, making me feel soooo good—I’ll do anything for you. I’ll do anything you say, Ari. Anything.”

That declaration, wrenched from deepest part of your heart, seemed to surprise Ari. 

He slowed his brutal thrusts and pressed a finger to your jaw so he could look at your face more fully. He searched your expression, and you knew your devotion to him was plain as day by the way his eyes darkened in response. Depraved possessiveness twisted his features into something even more devilishly attractive.

“Anything?” Ari asked mockingly, a new edge in his voice. “What if I told you to leave, baby? What if I told you to leave me and never come back?”

You felt those questions like a punch to the sternum, stealing the breath from your lungs as your heart cracked in half. Panic like you’d never known before flooded your chest, tears springing to your eyes, and you couldn’t help the way your body fought against his hold. 

But Ari’s arms tightened around you, nearly crushing you with his strength, and it finally calmed you enough to realize your trucker wasn’t trying to poke at your insecurities. He was laying his own vulnerabilities bare for you to see, and you knew your answer would make or break your relationship. 

Reaching up, you cupped your handsome trucker’s face in your hand, your fingers threading through his beard until your nails could scratch lightly at his jaw. Normally, he might’ve leaned into your touch, but his eyes were fixed too intensely on your face, waiting too anxiously for your answer.

“If you told me to leave,” you said slowly, picking your words carefully, “I’d leave, and you’d never see me again, Ari.” You smiled sadly at your trucker, showing him the tenderest, most scarred part of your heart. “I’ve been with men who didn’t want me before—I’ve clung to them until they forced me to leave them.” 

Your heart thumped heavily in your chest, remembering the man who’d tossed you out of his car on the side of the road. He hadn’t cared about you. He’d thrown you away like trash. And even though it had led to you meeting Ari, it still stung to know you would’ve given everything to a man who never would’ve appreciated you.

“I won’t make that mistake again, I can’t,” you murmured, your voice breaking on your last word as tears streaked down your cheeks. Ari didn’t wipe them away, instead he looked at them hungrily, like they fed something deep and dark in his soul. “I won’t ever leave you—unless you tell me to.”

Ari’s chest was heaving like he’d run a marathon, his breaths sawing in and out of his mouth and brushing against your cheek. For the first time since you’d met him, he looked too stunned for words. You took the opportunity of his silence to drive your point home.

“I am yours,” you vowed, pulling your fingers from his beard and trailing down to the pendant around your neck, the one that listed your name as Baby and defined you as property of Ari Levinson on the back. “For the rest of my life, I belong to you, Ari—or until you don’t want me anymore.”

That final comment seemed to snap Ari from the daze he’d been trapped in, and his hand shifted from your throat to wrap under your chin, gripping you ferociously as his eyes bored into yours with their intensity.

“I’ll never stop wanting you.” The words felt ripped from the very depths of Ari’s soul, his voice almost animalistic in its rawness. “You’re in my head, you’re in my fucking skin—baby, you live in the black hole where my heart used to be.”

Ari pressed his forehead to yours, and though the angle was awkward, you’d never felt more connected to your trucker. Your breathing synchronized, and it felt like even your hearts began beating in tune with each other. For a moment, Ari simply held you, like he was gathering himself, and you were struck speechless by how undone he was.

“You are mine, and I’m never fucking letting you go,” Ari rumbled, his voice sounding like the roar of the ocean during a storm. “I’ll never tell you to leave me. Do you understand me, baby?” 

“Yes, Ari,” you said on a sigh of relief. 

It was on the tip of your tongue to tell your trucker you loved him, but in your heart of hearts, you knew he wasn’t ready to hear it yet. So you held the words behind your lips and dragged Ari’s mouth to yours, giving him a filthy, messy kiss, conveying all the emotions that were too big for words.

When you broke the kiss, you pressed your forehead to his and, for a moment, the two of you held each other as tight as possible. You couldn’t tell Ari you loved him yet, but you knew it was true, and you were certain he’d love you as well, if he didn’t already. The thought made you smile.

Then, Ari was shoving you forward onto the bed, one of his hands curling around your throat while the other palm slid over your face, two fingers thrusting into your mouth and making you gag on them. He choked you and fucked you, making a mess of your face while you drooled around his fingers, muffled moans spilling from your mouth.

It wasn’t long before you could feel Ari’s cock twitching in your cunt, a sign that he was getting close. You were stretched so tight around him and the dildo, you could feel every throb of his hard length, could imagine every drop of his precum leaking into your hole. 

“Rub your clit for me, cock whore,” Ari rasped meanly in your ear, shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth and making you gag loudly, only to squeeze his other hand tighter around your throat, wringing the dumbest, most obscene sounds from your lips. “Come on your daddy’s cock, kiddo.”

With how Ari had your head bent back, his hand gripping your face, the position was awkward for you, but the command from your trucker was one you especially wanted to follow. So you braced yourself on one arm and reached under your body, straining until your fingers found the puffy little bundle of nerves. 

You rubbed your clit just the way Ari would—harshly, mercilessly—and even though your fingers weren’t as big or as rough as his, the delicious torture had you clenching even tighter around your trucker’s cock and the dildo in your ass. 

He groaned, changing the pace of his thrusts to be long and hard, hitting that spot deep inside you that had your moans hitching higher into helpless whimpers. He drilled into you, chasing his release, and it was all you could do to rub your clit and chase it with him.

“That’s it, baby,” Ari growled roughly, bringing his head close to your ear so he could nip at the lobe before spilling even more filth into your head. “Come on the cock that made you into the dirty, perfect slut you’ve become since meeting me.”

With a choked, muffled scream, you shattered apart into a thousand glittering pieces of pleasure, nearly blacking out from the lack of air and overwhelming euphoria. You hung suspended in the endless moment of bliss, pleasure pusling through every nerve in your body.

Your muscles clenched down hard on the toy in your ass, and your cunt strangled Ari’s cock, dragging him over the edge after you. He came with a rough shout, burying his face in your shoulder, his teeth sinking into your skin as he bit his mark into you, no doubt leaving bruises in the shape of his mouth behind on your body.

Together, you writhed through your releases, wanton moans and whines spilling from your lips while Ari growled a litany of mean praise into your skin, telling you what a perfect cock whore you were for him, doing such a good job milking the seed from his balls while your ass was stuffed full of your new toy.

Finally, when you felt entirely wrung out, Ari let you slump to the bed, a boneless heap of sated pleasure. Your trucker was surprisingly gentle as he pulled the silicone dick from your ass, and somewhat less careful when he slipped his own softening cock from your cunt. 

He ambled to the bathroom, giving you a perfect view of his broad back, thick thighs and perfect ass, making you smile dazedly at the delicious picture he painted. 

Once he was out of view, you heard the sink running and assumed he was washing the dildo. When he returned, Ari deposited the fake cock on the bedside table, then flopped down beside you, his chest still heaving slightly as he caught his breath. 

Instinctively, you scooted closer, curling into his side, throwing one leg over his thigh, neither of you caring about the mess when you pressed your well-used pussy to his hip. If anything, it made Ari rumble a happy sound, his arms curling around your body, and grabbing a possessive handful of your ass while he held you close.

“Tell me something,” you began, amusement and exhaustion clear in your voice. “Did you really want to prepare me for your friends, or did you just hate the idea that they might get to DP me first?”

Ari grumbled for a moment, and you thought he wouldn’t respond, though you were reasonably sure you knew what his answer would be. But your trucker surprised you by hauling you closer, until the entire length of your body was pressed against the side of his larger, stronger form.

“You’re mine, baby,” he growled against your temple, determination clear in his tone. “I’m gonna have fun watching those fuckers I call friends use you, but they don’t get to do anything to you I haven’t done already.” 

A delighted shiver raced down your spine at the perverted kind of possessiveness in you trucker’s voice and you lifted your head enough to meet his gaze. A smirk curled the edge of your mouth, a depraved challenge in your expression. 

“Didn’t you say something about how creative they are?” you asked, a teasing lilt to your words. As you watched your trucker’s face, his expression darkened. “You might need to work a little harder to make sure they don’t come up with something you haven’t thought of.”

In a second, Ari rolled you onto your back and pinned you to the bed with his massive form. He wrapped one big hand around your neck, catching on the delicate collar still circling the base of your throat. He paused, his blue eyes flaring, and an obsessive, possessive emotion flitting across his gaze. 

The fingers of his other hand slipped beneath the pendant on your collar, touch the words there—‘Property of Ari Levinson’. He traced the letters like he needed the reminder that you were his, that you weren’t going anywhere.

A soft, affectionate smile curled the corners of your lips as you stared up adoringly at your trucker, patiently watching him work through whatever he needed to work through. Your fingers curled around his ribs, your thighs bracketing his hips and urging him closer, until his hardening cock pressed against your damp, swollen pussy. 

After another moment, Ari’s eyes refocused on you and his mouth spread into a wicked smirk. He let go of the chain around your neck and reached for the dildo on the bedside table.

“If you think I can’t get creative, cock whore,” he began, pressing the tip of silicone dick to your lips until you opened and let him shove it into your mouth. It was so big, you gagged immediately, making Ari laugh meanly. “Then you don’t know me very well.”

Even though his words were a taunt, there was an underlying insecurity in Ari’s voice that you couldn’t let go unaddressed. Turning your head, you managed to spit the dildo out of your mouth and you reached for Ari, your fingers curling in his beard and bringing him close so you could look him dead in your eyes. 

“I know exactly who you are, Ari Levinson,” you told him, conviction ringing true in your words. “I know who you are, and I’m happy to belong to you.” 

You paused for a moment, letting what you’d said sink in. Ari’s eyes were almost unreadable, his expression a mask of stone, but the longer your words hung in the air between you, the more you saw that stone crack. There was a glimmer of something in your trucker’s eyes, something bone-deep and steady, something close to belief or trust. 

It made your heart soar, thumping happily against your ribs, and you offered your trucker a soft smile. Your fingers threaded through his beard, nails raking lightly at the skin beneath. You brought him down for a gentle kiss—gentler than any kiss you’d ever shared—before your mouth curved into a small, devious smirk.

“And I know you’re going to fuck my holes every which way with that dildo and your cock,” you murmured into his mouth, bringing you back to safer territory. You didn’t need a response to your declaration, just for him to hear you. “And I can’t fucking wait for you to ruin me before taking me to see your friends.”

At that, Ari chuckled, the deep, delicious sound rolling over your lips and down your spine, making your pussy clench weakly around nothing. His cock gave an answering twitch and he pushed his shaft deeper into your slick folds, right against your puffy, swollen clit and dripping hole. 

“You’re right, baby, you know me so well,” Ari purred, a pleased tone in his voice, as he grabbed the dildo and shoved it back into your mouth, fucking you shallowly with the silicone length. “I’m gonna demolish all your holes with my cock and your new toy so you’ll be ready to take good care of Lloyd and Curtis.” 

Your trucker’s eyes sparkled with something dark and possessive as he watched your mouth take the fake dick. He pushed it deeper with every stroke, enjoying the way you struggled and gagged around it. Tears streamed from your eyes down your temples, and drool coated your chin, but you finally took the dildo deep into your throat. 

“Good slut,” Ari cooed, brushing a kiss to your messy cheek before rumbling in your ear. “You’re gonna be a good toy for my friends next week, and you’re gonna make sure it’s worth their while to help us out, isn’t that right, cock whore?”

Ari lifted up so he could look you in the eye while you nodded awkwardly, and mumbled your sweetest, “Yes, daddy,” around the silicone dick in your mouth. Ari patted your cheek patronizingly, like you were nothing more than an obedient child and not a grown woman who adored him like he was your king—which only made your pussy leak more between your thighs.

“That’s a good girl, baby,” Ari rumbled, only a little bit of condescension in his tone. He wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing it so you could feel your muscles clenching harder around the dildo. “Keep that dick in your mouth, sweetheart, while I destroy your pussy with my cock.”

With an eager nod, you pressed your fingers to the base of the dildo, keeping it buried in your mouth and throat while Ari focused on lining up his cock with your pussy. He pushed in with one ruthless thrust, making you scream as he filled your oversensitive hole. 

The sound of your pain-edged pleasure was muffled around the toy in your mouth, but it only spurred your trucker on to wring even more noises out of you. Ari laughed at your silly, helpless sounds, fucking you harder and rougher while you choked on the fake cock, his grip around your throat making sure you never forgot it was there. 

For the rest of the afternoon, Ari’s cock and the fake dick filled your holes in every combination your trucker could think of, devastating your ass, mouth and pussy until he was satisfied. 

When the two of you finally gave in to exhaustion, it was with Ari’s cock wedged deep in your pussy, the dildo pressed between your tits and snuggled to your chest like a stuffie. His palm pressed the pendant on your collar into the hollow of your throat, and you knew you’d wake up with the words on the back—‘Property of Ari Levinson’—imprinted into your skin. 

Even in sleep, your trucker staked his claim on your body, possessing you in every way possible—and you couldn’t have been happier. He was finally starting to trust you, and you held tight to that knowledge, falling asleep with a contented smile on your lips.

The next evening, after recovering from your afternoon marathon of fucking, the two of you were in the living room watching TV. You were curled up in Ari’s lap while he sat in the recliner, his hand gripping your bare thigh possessively beneath the hem of the sundress you wore. Ari’s other hand played idly with the delicate chain of the collar around your neck. 

Even after accidentally forgetting to chain you up when he’d gone out to get the dildo, he hadn’t swapped the collar out for one of the others, which you took as a good sign. In fact, he seemed to take great pleasure in tracing the edges of the engraving on the back, the one that read ‘Property of Ari Levinson’, which was what he was doing.

For the moment, you were content. 

You were still a little sore, but Ari had been feeding you well to help you recover, and you were still mostly full from dinner. But when you heard the song of an ice cream truck driving slowly down the street, your head perked up from Ari’s shoulder and you glanced outside. 

The setting sun cast the oceanside neighborhood in golden yellows and warm oranges, and you could already see some of the other residents poking their heads out, responding to the call of the ice cream truck on the spring evening. A child ran toward the sidewalk, happy parents trailing behind, a couple dollar bills clenched tight in his fist.

“Ooh, ice cream,” you said, looking to Ari with your eyes wide and eager. “Can we get some ice cream, daddy?” you asked sweetly, only a little bit of mischief in your happy smile.

Ari huffed a sigh like he was put out, but you saw the corner of his mouth flicker and knew he was amused by your antics. He patted your thigh before grabbing your hips and helping you to stand.

“My wallet’s in the bedroom,” he said, giving your ass a little smack through your sundress. “Go grab it, kiddo.”

With a nod and a giggle, you scampered off to do as he said, plucking the leather wallet off the bedside table beside where Ari normally slept, and returned to your trucker. He grabbed a twenty dollar bill from inside and handed it to you before crowding you toward the door.

At the front door, you paused and looked over your shoulder, checking with Ari before opening it. When gave a quick nod, you turned back and undid the locks on the door before opening it and stepping out onto the porch. 

Ari had been following you so closely, you’d assumed he was right behind you as you padded barefoot across the porch and began to descend the steps. But your shoulders were cold, Ari’s warmth nowhere to be found, and you froze, looking back.

Your trucker lingered in the door, arms crossed over his broad, bare chest as he leaned against the frame. His eyes were dark in the dimming light of sunset, and though you thought his mouth looked a little tight, he didn’t look angry or worried you might run. 

When you stopped and waited for him, he gestured for you to go ahead without him.

Your heart thudded happily in your chest when you realized what Ari was doing—he was trusting you to go outside alone. Granted, he was watching you from the porch, and with the ice cream truck parked by the sidewalk in front of his house, you’d never leave Ari’s sight. 

But it was still a big deal. In all the time you’d been with Ari, he’d never let you go outside unaccompanied. He’d always been with you, his hand holding yours, or his palm pressed against your lower back, or the back of your neck. And if he had to leave you alone, it was only because you were collared and chained up in his truck or to his bed—except, of course, the time he forgot.

So you knew it was a huge step for Ari to intentionally let you go to the ice cream truck by yourself, and you were more than eager to show your trucker he could trust you. 

A smile flickered around the edges of your mouth and you turned, walking determinedly down the rest of the porch steps and across the grass front lawn toward the crowd swarming the ice cream truck. You were intent on showing Ari that he could always trust you to come back.

You waited in line behind a few kids and their parents, glancing back every few seconds to make sure Ari was still there—and he was, standing sentinel, watching you. It warmed your heart to know he was close by, none of the unease you’d felt that morning in your gut. You felt safe under your trucker’s watch, and you were happy to have him in your life.

Finally, it was your turn to order and you got two ice cream cones, paying with Ari’s money, then skipped back to the house, a bounce in your step. You launched yourself at Ari as soon as you hit the top step of the porch, and he caught you easily while you giggled triumphantly.

Your mouth found his in a bruising, possessive kiss, both of you claiming each other. It was apparently filthy enough for one of the older kids still waiting in line at the ice cream truck to shout, “Get a room!”

A surprised laugh burst from your lips while Ari shot the kid one of his darkest glares. Some of the other kids screamed and laughed, high on sugar, as they played in the lingering light. The warmth of the spring day was slowly slipping away, but everyone was happy—including you and your trucker.

Ari tugged you into the house and once you were safely out of view of the neighborhood, he tossed the change you’d given him on the kitchen island. Then he pulled off your dress, undid the fly of his jeans, and pulled you down to straddle him in his recliner chair. He settled his hands on your hips and impaled you on his cock while you held onto the cones in your hands.

The two of you ate your ice cream like that, not caring if it dripped down your chest or down his, taking turns cleaning each other up. When your ice cream cones were gone, Ari captured your mouth in a delicious, devastating kiss, and began to fuck you, bouncing your hips on his lap and dragging the most obscene sounds from your lips.

Your trucker’s hand wrapped around the front of your throat, just above the collar that designated you as his property, and he held you close while he filled you with his cock, and eventually his come.

Once you both came, you collapsed against Ari’s chest and let him use your body to keep his cock warm, reveling in feeling of being your trucker’s perfect little fuck toy. You were his cock whore, his baby, and he was your trucker, your king. 

Even if your relationship didn’t have the most conventional of beginnings, with Ari finally starting to trust that you weren’t going to leave him, you were beginning to build the foundation of something real, something that would last for the rest of your lives.

You only needed to go see his friends—Lloyd Hansen and Curtis Everett—to get what you needed for the rest of your new life with Ari Levinson to truly begin.

trucker king masterlist

thank you for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!! ♡

[dontbescaredtosingalong]

🫣

[witchywithwhiskey]

hehe thank you for reading!! ♡♡

[witchywithwhiskey]

Molly, darlin’, I’d fist fight for some Jack Abbot + Power Outage for your Winter Bacchanal 🥺

when the heat comes back on

pairing: father's friend!dr. jack abbot x female reader

summary: when the power goes out in pittsburgh, your father's friend comes to your rescue, and keeps you warm through the night.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, brief dry humping, fingering (f receiving), implied age gap (reader's age isn't mentioned, just that Jack's older), dirty talk, praise kink, bit of possessiveness, pet names (bunny, sweetheart), aftercare, lots of snuggling, fast burn

word count: 3.2k

a/n: ahhh JJ thank you for sending in this prompt!! i was so glad to get to write something for our beloved Jack Abbot. i had this idea because of course Jack would be prepared for a power outage in the middle of a snow storm, and of course he'd show up like a knight in shining armor for a reader who's decidedly not prepared 😅 and then smut ensues! anyway, i hope you enjoy what i came up with—thanks for playing my blizzard bacchanal game ♡

You were cold. You were cold and miserable. You were cold and miserable...and more than a little bit scared. 

Huddled on your couch in your dark apartment, wearing four layers of clothes and three blankets, you wondered bleakly how you were going to make it through the night. You didn’t know the first thing about surviving a power outage in the middle of a snow storm. 

Without anything to distract you, anxious thoughts swirled around in your head: What if something happened to you? What if you froze to death in your apartment? You were a single adult living alone, how long would it be before anyone discovered your body? 

All of a sudden, you regretted being shy around your neighbors and not dedicating the time to making friends when you'd moved to Pittsburgh over the summer. The only soul in the whole city who knew you were there—aside from your coworkers—was Dr. Jack Abbot.

He was an old army friend of your father's, and the only person you or anyone in your family knew in Pittsburgh. So when you’d arrived in the city, you’d reached out and met for coffee. He’d made it clear that if you ever needed anything, you could call him.

But he was so much older than you, and he was busy with his job as an ER attending, so you hadn’t wanted to bother him with something as silly as needing a friend. Still, he checked in from time to time, making sure you were well. 

If your phone wasn’t dead, you might’ve texted Jack about losing power. He would know what to do—he wouldn’t let you freeze to death in your apartment.

A loud banging on the front door dragged you forcefully out of your morose thoughts with a surprised start. For a second, you blinked dazedly on the door, but when the banging began anew, you quickly unearthed yourself from your pile of blankets and darted across the living room to open the door.

Somehow, Dr. Jack Abbot was on the other side, your knight in shining snow gear. 

You blinked incredulously at him, wondering dazedly if you'd somehow conjured him from thin air in your own desperation. Or maybe you'd fallen asleep and were dreaming. 

You tried to pinch yourself but it was too difficult through your many layers of clothes. So you resigned yourself to trying to act normal in front of your father’s very capable, and very handsome, friend who had clearly showed up to save you.

"Dr. Abbot—hi." You couldn’t hide your surprise, but it didn’t seem to phase Jack.

Instead of responding right away, he glanced over your shoulder, his eyes doing a quick sweep of your living room as if he was assessing the scene. 

You'd tacked up blankets to cover your windows and keep the cold air out, and closed all the doors to trap the heat in your living room. You’d also lit a few emergency candles he'd recommended you to buy before a storm last fall, but you were trying to conserve them since you didn’t know how long the power would be out. 

"Can I come in?" Jack asked when his attention returned to you. His voice was low and raspy, and it had been so long since you heard it that you forgot how it affected you, sending a little shiver of interest down your spine.

Your shoulders trembled, and you were briefly thankful for the cold because it meant you could chalk up the movement to the chill in your apartment rather than your little crush on your father’s friend. 

Shaking the cobwebs from your head, you stepped aside and opened the door wider. “Yeah, come in, please,” you said, welcoming Jack into your modest little home, where you’d barely begun decorating.

Jack ambled into living room, and it was only then that you noticed the big bag he carried. As you watched him, he kneeled down with a slight wince—you remembered belatedly that he had a prosthetic—and started to unpack it. 

"I brought you some portable space heaters, and a small generator to charge your phone," Jack said, explaining how they worked, and unloading another, smaller bag full of brand new batteries. “I got worried when you didn’t text me back, figured this was why.” 

Something warm and fuzzy squirmed in your chest at the thought of Jack worrying over you. It was…nice that he cared enough to check on you in person and bring over all the essentials you should’ve thought to buy before the historic storm hit Pittsburgh.

“Thank you, Jack,” you murmured softly, still standing by the front door. 

He grunted in acknowledgement and continued setting up the space heaters and generator, demonstrating how they worked and explaining to you how to best conserve the power. 

When he was done, he stood and turned toward you, and you were struck all over again by just how handsome and capable he was. His hazel eyes were sharp, but warm, so that you never felt judged by the older man. And he was sporting some delicious looking scruff on his jaw, enough to make you wonder what it’d feel like against your cheek.

"If you need anything else, you call me, alright?" Jack said, drawing you back into the moment, his voice gentle but firm. 

You nodded dumbly, not knowing what else to say. Then, before you could think better of it, you flung yourself at Jack, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his shoulder. It was difficult to hug him tight through all your layers of clothes and his snow gear, but you clung to him as tightly as you could.

Jack stiffened when you hugged him, like he didn’t know how to react, but after a moment, he relaxed and looped his arms around your waist. He hugged you back and let out a soft sigh, like he needed the embrace just as much as you did.

Suddenly, you couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving. Even though he’d only been in your apartment for a few minutes, you didn’t want to be alone with your thoughts and the cold and the darkness again.

"Will you stay?" you asked before you could talk yourself out of it. Your voice was small and quiet, muffled by the fabric of his coat that your face was buried in, but you were proud of yourself for asking. 

Jack tensed, his arms squeezing you momentarily tighter before loosening until you thought he might let you go. You held on to him tighter. “You’re sure you want me to stay?" he asked uncertainly.

"I...I don't want to be alone," you admitted, lifting your head from his shoulder so he could see the honesty in your eyes. "Please."

Jack tightened his arms around you and said, "Okay." He held you for another moment longer before gently pulling away. The two of you made your way over to your couch, where you pushed your blankets aside enough for him to sit. 

He shed his coat and lay it over the arm of the couch before sitting down heavily. Reaching down to his leg, he massaged the place where his leg must’ve met his prosthetic before giving you with a sheepish look. You urged him to get comfortable while you darted into the kitchen to make some tea. Thankfully the gas stove was still working.

When you returned with two steaming mugs of tea, Jack had pulled off his boots and his prosthetic, and he was leaned back against the couch cushions, resting his eyes. You made a sound to let him know you were there, then passed him a mug before sitting down beside him.

The space heaters were beginning to warm the room, but it was still frigid and you clutched your mug tightly as you chatted with Jack, catching him up on your life since last you’d seen each other. He shared some stories from the ER, and before you knew it, your mug was empty. 

You set it down on the coffee table and scooted closer to Jack. “I’m still cold,” you explained, gesturing to the smaller space between your bodies. “Do you mind if I…?” 

Jack gave a surprised little rumble, but he set his empty mug aside and lifted his arm. “No, I don’t mind—c’mere.” 

Immediately, you cuddled into his side, tucking your thickest blanket around your shoulders while you snuggled deeper into him. His arm curled around your back and you sighed happily, your head resting on his shoulder.

Closing your eyes you basked in the warmth Jack radiated, like he was your own personal space heater. It had been so long since you’d been really, truly warm and you snuggled closer. Nosing beneath the collar of his sweatshirt, you pressed your face to the warm, weathered skin of his neck, reveling in the delicious heat you found there.

"Cold nose, cold nose," Jack murmured, squirming a little, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he tugged you closer, wrapping his other arm around your waist, and pulling you tighter against his body.

You mumbled a mostly unrepentant “Sorry" into his skin and shifted your face so your nose was buried deeper into the crook of his neck. He smelled so good—like fresh wintry air and soap—and he was so warm, you couldn’t help but try to soak up more of his heat.

"You trying to burrow beneath my clothes like a bunny?" Jack teased, huffing an almost incredulous laugh.

"You're just so warm," you whined softly, feeling heat rise to your cheeks at how pathetic you sounded, but still not wanting to pull away.

Jack made a sound, deep in his chest, like he was pleased, but then he was pulling away, even as you grumbled discontentedly.

"Hang on," Jack said, extricating himself from you and leaning forward. He reached behind his back and yanked his sweatshirt up over his head, leaving him in a thin, white undershirt.

When he leaned back, you dove into him, wrapping yourself around his torso and tugging him closer. You managed to lose your balance somehow, and accidentally yanked him down on top of you. 

You ended up with you stretched out on the couch, Jack laying on top of you like your own personal weighted, heated blanket—with even more blankets on top of you both.

"Is this okay?" Jack asked softly in your ear, shifting to the side so his weight wasn't crushing you. The movement trapped you between his body and the back of the couch, which was exactly where you wanted to be, so you sighed blissfuly.

"So good," you murmured, a little drunk on the heat after feeling cold for so long. Your hands skimmed down Jack's sides and slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, pressing into his warm skin.

"Jesus, bunny," Jack cursed, his body jerking above yours, his knee slipping between your legs. "Warn a guy next time,” he muttered, but didn’t sound angry.

"Sorry, Jack," you mumbled, turning your head and giving him your best apologetic look. "I just haven't felt this warm all day."

Jack's expression softened at your admission. "I'm sorry I didn't come by sooner, sweetheart. I was checking in at the hospital." His hand cupped your face, thumb stroking over your still chilly skin. 

"S'ok, you're here now," you said, nuzzling into his calloused hand. You looked up at him hovering over you with big eyes and Jack sucked in a sharp breath.

The room crackled with an electric kind of tension and, all over again, you were struck by how attractive Jack Abbot was. If you were honest with yourself, you’d had a crush on the older man since you first met him for coffee all those months ago, and you’d tried to keep your distance because you were sure he’d never think of you in that way.

But the way Jack's eyes were darkening, his gaze dropping down to your lips, it became suddenly clear that if he didn’t think of you like that before, he certainly did now. He looked like a man who wanted to kiss you—and you so badly wanted him to kiss you.

"Don't look at me like that, bunny," Jack rasped, his voice lower and more gravelly than you'd ever heard it, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. 

You really loved his voice. 

"Like what?" you asked all innocently, even though you had a pretty good idea of how you were looking at him. So you turned it right around on him. "You stop looking at me like that, Jack.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but Jack’s eyes darkened even further, the pupil blowing wide and blotting out the warm brown of his irises. He let out a frustrated little growl, glancing down at your mouth again, and you clutched him tighter, begging him wordlessly to put you both out of your misery. 

"Fuck it," Jack bit out, his self-control finally snapping. Then his mouth was on yours and he was kissing you like a man starved for sustenance and the only place he could get it was from your lips. 

You moaned at the rasp of his stubble against our skin and pulled him closer, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. When he accepted your offer and slipped his tongue past your lips, you welcomed him happily, swallowing his groan as he took possession of your mouth.

The kiss grew heated at a dizzying pace, your body beginning to writhe beneath his as your need bloomed hotter and brighter in your core. Hooking one knee over his hip, you ground against his thick thigh between your legs, your kiss growing messy and frantic.

However, there were too many layers of clothes between your heated core and the hard muscle of his thigh, and you pulled away with a frustrated whine.

"Jack!"

"Shh, don't worry, bunny, I got you," he murmured, kissing your cheek and jaw. His hand slipped beneath the layers of leggings and sweatpants you wore, his fingers pushing into your panties and finding your slick heat. "Fuck, is this all for me, sweetheart?"

"Y-yes, Jack, all for you," you mewled, your hips bucking up into his touch, a loud moan falling from your lips when he circled your slippery clit. "Oh my god, I need—please!"

"I know, I know, bunny, I'm gonna take good care of you," Jack promised, sliding a finger into your tight channel. He pumped inside you a few times in the tight confines of your panties, before adding a second, then a third. "Too much?"

"No no no that's sooo good," you moaned, grabbing Jack's face and kissing him hungrily while he fucked you with his fingers. You rocked your hips, bearing down on the feeling of him buried inside you.

"That's it, be a good bunny and hump my hand," Jack groaned against your lips, meeting your hips thrust for thrust with his fingers. "Christ, you feel so good sweetheart, so wet and warm—fuck, we shouldn't be doing this."

You could hear the glimmer of guilt in his voice and a spike of panic threaded through your heart. You clung to him with your entire body, hands clutching his face, thigh hooked high on his hip, your pussy squeezing his fingers. He couldn’t pull away—he couldn’t.

"Don't stop, Jack, don't you dare stop," you cried, your pleasure winding tight in your body. “Please!”

He made a rough sound, low in his throat, but he didn’t stop. When your eyes met his, the possessiveness in his gaze stole the breath from your lungs and sent you hurtling toward your release.

“You like getting finger-fucked by an old man, bunny?” Jack asked, his eyes hot and intent on your face, like his question wasn’t simple dirty talk and your answer meant something to him.

Your skin was damp with a thin layer of sweat, and you were close, but you answered him the only way you knew how—with the truth. “Nooo, I like getting finger-fucked by you, Jack,” you told him, staring deep into his eyes as you panted harder for him.

Something flashed in Jack’s eyes, something vulnerable, and you pulled him close for a ravaging kiss. As his lips devoured yours, he changed the angle of his hand so the flesh of his palm was grinding against your clit. Your tore away from him, to cry out.

"Oh god, right there—please, please, please, Jack!”

"Good girl, cum all over my fingers, bunny, give it to me," he growled against your cheek, his scruff rasping over your soft skin. It was all too much, too good, you were lost. 

You came on Jack’s hand with a sharp cry, your spine arching up off the couch and your fingers digging into the soft, silver curls at the nape of his neck. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, and Jack helped you ride them, grinding his palm against your clit as stars burst behind your eyes.

When you finally came down from the peak of your release, Jack eased his hand from your panties and brought his fingers to his mouth. He licked your wetness from his skin, groaning in delight, and you suddenly had the urge to shove him down between your thighs, so he could taste you straight from the source. 

Jack’s eyes found yours, and you could tell by the way the corner of his mouth flickered into a smirk that he had an idea of what you were thinking. His expression promised he’d be getting his mouth on your pussy sometime soon. 

But then your shoulders trembled as the chill of your apartment snaked its way beneath the fort of blankets you’d build on the couch, and Jack’s expression shifted to concern. He gathered you up in his arms, pulling the blankets higher over your bodies and rearranged you until your back was to his chest, his hard cock nestled against your ass.

"What about you?" you asked in a soft voice, wiggling your ass experimentally. It was toasty warm beneath the blankets, and you wouldn’t have minded if he wanted some help taking care of his arousal. 

But Jack just groaned like he was being tortured and tucked you tighter against his body. "Don't worry about me, sweetheart, just get some sleep,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to your cheek before settling his head on the pillow behind yours.

“What about later?” you asked, refusing to let the subject lie. A part of you worried that once you fell asleep, Jack would disappear—or once you woke up, he’d insist you pretend like nothing ever happened between the two of you. And you couldn’t bear it. “Jack?”

“When the heat comes back on,” Jack rumbled, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. “You can have anything you want, bunny. Anything. Including my cock.”

His low, raspy voice was thick with promise, and it soothed the fear that had burrowed deep in your heart. You let out a soft, contented sigh and finally settled into his arms, letting Jack’s heat keep you warm. 

You were no longer cold, miserable or scared. You were happy, and excited for the power to be restored so that you could finally have all of Dr. Jack Abbot to yourself. You fell asleep thinking about all the things you’d do when the heat came back on.

thanks for reading!! reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡♡

[ms-indifferwnt]

I love bunny as a nickname fuckkkkk

[witchywithwhiskey]

yess it just works so well! thank you for reading ♡♡

[witchywithwhiskey]

witchywithwhiskey's bucky barnes masterlist

you'll find full content warnings and summaries on each fic. some works contain dark themes and elements such as dubcon and noncon, so proceed with caution. you're responsible for your own media consumption!

key: 💖 molly's favorites ◦ ⭐️ over 1k notes ◦ 🌟 over 3k notes ◦ 💫 over 5k notes

bucky barnes

the heat of him [smut] congressman bucky, boss au

baking spooky sprinkle cookies with your clingy orc best friend [smut] orc au, friends to lovers

feel like home [smut] ficlet, sleepy sex

more than spite [smut] ficlet, ex-boyfriend's best friend part 2

sparring match [smut] ficlet, new avengers au

more than revenge [smut] ficlet, ex-boyfriend's best friend

bad memories [smut] ficlet, ex-boyfriend's dad

as slow as i like [smut] ficlet, bdsm, established relationship

hold on to forever [smut] brother's best friend

on the clock [smut] monster au, ceo au, portal sex

my man is a stalker [smut] stalker au, dubcon, bondage

a beautiful, perfect summer day [smut] friends to lovers

let me hear you [smut] post-thunderbolts, established relationship

a long damn day [smut] cowboy au, brat/brat taming

a king and his queen [smut] mafia au, arranged marriage

don't play with love potions [smut] sex pollen, enemies to lovers

post-mission ritual [smut] post-thunderbolts, established relationship

hungry like a wolf [smut] lumberjack au, established relationship

something brutal and beautiful [smut] omegaverse au, age gap

kiss me softly [smut] friends to lovers

what good girls get after movie night [smut] avengers tower au, secret relationship

can't get enough [smut] thunderbolts* era, established relationship

the mistletoe tradition [fluff] office au, age gap romance

just want you for my own [fluff] husband au, established relationship

to save me from tears [smut] dark au, basement wife au

a halloween trick and a halloween treat [smut, fluff] cat shifter au

slasher [smut, dark] horror movie villain au

for so long as you live [smut] mafia au

bucky's birthday wish [fluff] avengers tower au, bucky's birthday

property of j.b.barnes [smut] ex-stepdad, sugar daddy ceo au ⭐️💖

aren’t you glad you read the latin? [smut] demon au 🌟

just a little biting, a little torture between friends [smut] friends to lovers 🌟

scary stories…and a little something more [smut] frenemies to lovers 🌟

the love that we shared in september [fluff] moodboard + ficlet

do you remember… forever [smut] fae au 💖

all the apple cider and no more haunted houses [smut] enemies to lovers 💫💖

a stranger arrives [smut] lotr au, stalker au

extended editions [smut] friends to lovers 🌟💖

five minutes [smut] ceo!bucky ⭐️

careful what you beg for [smut] incubus au ⭐️

pucker up, buttercup [fluff] grumpy/sunshine, strangers to lovers ⭐️💖

safe and sound part 1 [fluff] part 2 [smut] dad's best friend 🌟💖

no more losers [smut] roommates au, enemies to lovers ⭐️

cherry blossoms must be magic [fluff] developing relationship, avengers tower ⭐️

your white wolf [smut, dark romance] mob au ⭐️💖

something to cry about [smut] established bdsm relationship 💖

find sunshine in the rain [fluff] farmer au

because it's your birthday [smut, fluff] established relationship ⭐️

more than safe [fluff] 'who did this to you', hurt/comfort ⭐️

a rock star and a gentleman [fluff] rock star au

it's just a kiss [smut] friends to lovers ⭐️

for your own good [smut] sex pollen, avengers tower ⭐️💖

pretty little doll [dark romance] stalker au, dark ⭐️

the forever third wheels [fluff] friends to lovers ⭐️

hearts beating the same rhythm [smut] established relationship

the last first kiss [fluff] emotional hurt/comfort 💫💖

like a daisy in darkness [smut] professor au

dancing on the edge of danger [smut] soulmate au, winter solider

until his last breath [fluff] best friend au, emotional hurt/comfort 🌟

as close as two people could be [smut] established relationship, wedding night

a wolf in man's clothing [dark-ish fluff] mafia au 🌟

braid my hair, honey〈tumblr exclusive〉 [smut, fluff] established relationship

only for him 〈deleted scene〉 [smut] brother's best friend

steve rogers & bucky barnes

the life of a thief part 1 [eventual smut] mafia au

knocked up by the mafia enforcers on halloween night [smut] mafia au

in the woods with a couple of masked men [smut] halloween fic

furniture assembling drabbles [fluff] neighbor steve rogers, roommate bucky barnes

a monster, a captain and a soldier [smut] monster!reader, avengers tower ⭐️

know how to share [fluff, pre-smut] love triangle ish, flirting, banter ⭐️💖

multiple characters including bucky barnes

ova with ceo ari, dbf bucky and dark steve [smut] drabble follow ups to always keep my heart safe, safe and sound and and all was lost

bucky barnes series masterlists

room for one more [smut, fluff] movie star au (mmf with steve rogers)

ONGOING: you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend [smut] toxic situationship, soft!dark bucky barnes

ONGOING: tempting fate [smut, fluff] father's business rival ceo bucky barnes

ONGOING: see you next shift series [smut, angst, fluff] coffeeshop au, bucky barnes, eventual steve rogers

COMPLETE: you belong to me, i belong to you [smut] dark bucky barnes

bucky barnes collections and challenge masterlists

LOTR-verse universe [smut, fluff, angst] lord of the rings au, multiple characters

halloween fics [smut, fluff, angst] multiple characters

30 day writing trope challenge masterlist [smut, fluff, angst] multiple characters

[onyx8514]

Ugh, just so many old favorites from ao3, reblogging to keep track 🫶🏻

[witchywithwhiskey]

ahh thank you!! ♡♡♡

[witchywithwhiskey]

the life of a thief ⟨part 1⟩

part 1 ⟡ part 2 (coming soon!)

pairing: mafia enforcer!steve rogers x female reader x mafia boss!bucky barnes

summary: you've spent weeks conning the boss of the brooklyn mafia, but when you're steps away from stealing the Blue Diamond of Alqualondë for your employer, you're caught by the boss's most trusted enforcer. then, things take a turn for the worse when you realize you weren't conning the mob boss—he was luring you into his trap.

warnings: mature content, eventual 18+ content (minors dni!!!), sexual tension (resolved in part 2), almost kiss, teasing touches, possessive touches, attempted sexual coercion, enemies to (eventual) lovers, bit of a cliffhanger ending

word count: 3.0k

a/n: i had an idea for @thezombieprostitute's Let's Plan A Heist challenge while i was working on my chef Jack Abbot fic but i didn't want to start it until i finished that fic. then by the time i got around to writing it, i realized the challenge was almost over. so! i've split what was supposed to be a one-shot into two parts, and this is the first part. part 1 is mostly setup/sexual tension while the next part will be mostly smut, and i'm going to work on it next, so it should be posted soon-ish! thank you Zombie for hosting such a fun challenge, and i hope everyone enjoys reading about our tricksy little thief!!

prompts used: mansion, party/celebration, you were hired, long con, solo, rival

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

In the life of a thief—the life you’d chosen, mostly willingly—it was important that nothing rattled you. You had to keep your cool in any situation you found yourself in, or else you could end up dead. It was a skill you’d honed over the years and it meant you could be held at gunpoint and not even break a sweat. 

But those words, said by that voice, sent a shiver of unease down your spine like nothing you’d ever felt before. A guilty grimace contorted your face before you could stop it, and you could only thank the universe that the man the voice belonged to was behind you, so he had no way of seeing it.

Taking a breath and reaching for the calmness that seemed to exist in endless reserves on all your other jobs, you steeled yourself. You schooled your features into an expression that was much more innocent before you turned around and faced the source of that voice.

Steve Rogers cut an intimidating figure, clad in a tailored suit that exquisitely highlighted his tall stature and broad shoulders. His narrow waist and thick, muscular thighs looked like a million bucks in a simple black suit with a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, giving you a tantalizing tease of all that golden skin he had under his clothes…

You nipped that thought right in the bud, focusing your gaze on Steve’s face—his stupidly handsome face—which was contorted into a cold, furious scowl. You couldn’t help but notice that even that expression looked good on him, and you had to force yourself to concentrate on the problem at hand.

Because the frown on Steve’s face wasn’t the one he typically wore in your presence. No, this particularly charming glower was because he’d discovered you in the secret, locked room in his boss’s Brooklyn mansion. The one that housed the mafia boss’s private collection of art, jewels, and other priceless valuables in a cramped maze that looked like an elegant version of a museum’s storage room.

It was a room that you absolutely, one hundred percent, shouldn’t be in. 

But not everything in that room was priceless. The Blue Diamond of Alqualondë would fetch your employer a cool $5.8 million on the black market. All you had to do was retrieve it, steal it away from the mansion and put it in your employer’s hands. Then you’d get the $1 million you were promised…and your debts would be forgiven. Finally.

Giving your head a subtle, impatient shake, you reminded yourself that you didn’t have time to ruminate on the mess you were in. It didn’t matter that you’d been forced to get close enough to a mafia boss to be invited to one of the exclusive parties at his mansion—or that you’d enjoyed your time with the Brooklyn mob boss more than you should’ved.

You had to focus on the problem in front of you. Namely the fiercely protective and extremely dangerous mafia enforcer standing between you and your freedom.

“Would you believe,” you began, sauntering toward Steve and putting a little extra sway in your hips. The gown you wore hugged your curves lovingly, a slit up the side offering teasing views of your bare thigh. It was meant to be a distraction of a dress and it was doing its job. “That I got lost while looking for the bathroom?”

A little zip of satisfaction shot straight down your spine when Steve’s cold, blue eyes dipped briefly to your body, raking quickly over your chest, your hips, your legs, like he couldn’t help himself. But the excitement you felt at getting the man’s attention fizzled when his gaze returned to your face, harder than before.

But you wouldn’t—couldn’t—be deterred. It was imperative that you distract Steve and get him out of the room so you could sneak back later and steal the Blue Diamond of Alqualondë from his boss’s collection. How exactly you’d do that when the enforcer who already didn’t trust you, would be on higher alert? That was a problem for later you.

All you could do was deal with one problem at a time. So you moved closer to the big, intimdating man and slunk into his personal space, placing a hand over the breast pocket of his jacket while you fluttered your lashes at him. 

“This place is just so big and confusing,” you murmured demurely, trying to play the role of damsel in distress while you surreptitiously searched his jacket for something, anything to help you get free. 

But aside from a couple guns in shoulder holsters, all you found were the hard muscles Steve hid beneath his tailored suit. You forced yourself to ignore the twist of attraction in your belly, the melting warmth that sang in your blood, and urged you to do something stupid, something too fucking reckless, even for you. 

It became easier when Steve’s lithe fingers wrapped around your wrist and he stopped your wandering hand in its tracks. He gave you a tight warning squeeze before letting his hands fall and stuffing them in his pockets, making a show of how little of a threat he thought you posed.

“From anyone else, I might believe that excuse,” Steve rumbled, staring down his nose at you. His eyes were like two chips of ice, sending even more cold anxiety down your spine, and it was only your years of practice that kept you from wilting under his angry stare. “But not from you, sweetheart.”

It disturbed you how much you liked hearing Steve call you by that pet name, even if his tone was dripping with disdain as he said it. In your head, you reached for the calm that typically came so easily when you were working a job, but you found it was rapidly depleting. 

There was something about Steve Rogers that left you feeling stripped bare and defenseless, and it took much more effort than usual to gather your charm and clever tactics around you like protective armor. Giving an indignant, offended huff of a laugh, you swatted Steve’s chest like you were old friends.

“You’re so mean to me, Stevie,” you whined in your sweetest, most ingratiating voice, batting your eyes at the scowling enforcer. “I’m just a little lost,” you said, pouting up at him with your most pathetic expression.

At the same time, you pressed closer, your tits brushing against his chest, sending sparks of pleasure rioting in your belly, your nipples tightening beneath the thin, slinky fabric of your dress. It took everything in you to hold back a shiver as desire ran rampant in your body, making you feel hot and achy.

“Cut the shit, sweetheart,” Steve snapped, his anger bleeding over into his tone in a way that made his voice hard and unrelenting. It got you thinking about other things of his that would feel hard and unrelenting and could help soothe the ache between your thighs…

“This room is kept locked, so try again,” Steve growled, leaning in until he was looming above you, using that stupid heigh to his advantage. 

However, the movement also pressed you closer to him, your tits brushing his chest and making your breath hitch as your nipples rubbed against him again. Steve’s eyes dropped to your tits, which were heaving in the low neckline of your dress, in danger of spilling out. 

A sound, like a choked off, hungry growl, rumbled in Steve’s chest, and the air in the room crackled with unresolved tension. It went straight to your head, that sound, and you could feel your brain melting a little at how much pure, undiluted lust was etched into Steve’s handsome face.

For a moment, between one breath and the next, you thought Steve Rogers might kiss you. You were already sagging in relief at the thought, your body sinking deeper into him, your hands pressed flat against the lapels of his jacket, ready to grab him and haul him even closer. 

You knew the kiss would be good. It would be devastating for the both of you, and your body lit up with the anticipation… but the kiss never came.

With a violent jerk of his head, Steve wrenched his gaze from your mouth, where he’d been staring at your lips like they were the answer to all his life’s problems, and he looked past your shoulder, deep into the maze of the room. He swallowed thickly, put some space between your bodies and finally looked back at you. 

When he did, his expression was guarded, and all the lust that had filled his face had been buried deep within the span of a few seconds. All that remained was the distrust that had haunted his blue eyes since you first appeared in his boss’s life. 

“Now, answer me, sweetheart,” Steve rumbled, his voice going infinitesimally softer on the pet name before he continued on. “What were you doing in here?”

The sudden shift in Steve’s mood was effective in waking you up from the lust spell you’d fallen into, and you realized you had one last card to play in an effort to get out of your disastrous situation. It was a long shot—Steve was so loyal to his boss, that it was unlikely he’d betray him for anything—but you had to try.

So you pressed your soft body more deliberately against the hard, unyielding bulk of Steve’s form, taking care to keep your wits about you as you danced your fingers along the line of his jacket. You let your fingertips trace the buttons of his white dress shirt, down to his abdomen, feeling the muscles of his stomach spasm at your touch. 

Steve’s face remained a stony, unforgiving mask as you teased your nails along the hem of his pants, toying with the leather of his belt. You sucked in a breath for courage, emboldened by the bulge brushing against your hip and looked at the handsome mafia enforcer from under your lashes.

“What’ll it take to make you leave and forget you ever saw me in here?” you asked silkily, pushing up onto your tiptoes so you could murmur in Steve’s ear, your breath ghosting tantalizingly against his bearded jaw. “I promise to make it worth your while, sir.” 

You were pressed so close to Steve that you felt his body go rigid at the honorific, his breath rushing out of him like you’d knocked the air out of his lungs. A pleased smirk teased the corners of your lips and you took his reaction as a sign to press your advantage, brushing your hand lower until your fingertips teased along the hard ridge of his cock in his pants.

But before you could cup his bulge through his clothes, Steve’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling it none too gently away from his lap. He yanked so hard on your arm that it put you off balance, and if it wasn’t for Steve’s other hand settling on your hip, his palm a possessive, heated touch, you might’ve tumbled back onto your ass.

“You’re delusional if you thought that would work on me, sweetheart,” Steve growled, the barest hint of teasing in the pet name as it rolled off his tongue.

A shiver skated down your spine, one you weren’t able to temper, and you felt more than saw Steve’s smirk. Using his grip on your wrist and your hip, he drew you closer, and—damn him—your stomach swooped when you felt the hard length of his cock press against your belly. 

It was all you could do to breathe normally and not pant over the hot mafia enforcer like a dog in heat. But that had its downsides, too, because Steve smelled good. Expensive cologne mixed with something dangerous, like gunpowder, and god help you, but you thought you could get high off his scent. 

You were so close to huffing Steve’s scent like a desperate hussy when his hand around your wrist squeezed, making you blink the lust from your gaze and look up at him. A smirk teased around the edges of his mouth and he looked so fucking devastatingly handsome, you wanted to kick him—or kiss him. 

“Tell me what you were doing in here,” Steve rumbled, looming over you once more in a clear attempt to intimidate you into answering. “And who you’re working for. Be honest, be honest—if you’re honest, we might go easy on you.”

At the reference to your employer, your spine went ramrod straight, and panic flooded your mind. You were so distracted by the thought of who’d hired you that you didn’t notice the way Steve’s eyes flicked briefly over your shoulder. Nor did you notice his use of “we” when it was only him in the room. 

As far as you were aware at least.

In the life of a thief, these were the kinds of rookie mistakes that could get you caught, could get you killed. Unfortunately for you, you were too scared of your employer and too off-balance by the closeness of the mafia enforcer, to even realize you’d made such amateur errors. 

You thought you were still in control of the situation, so you huffed an indignant sound and tossed your head, giving the appearance that you were offended by Steve’s words and the implied accusation. 

Tipping your head back, you managed to look down your nose at the taller man as you scrambled for another way out of the room so you could return later for the diamond you’d been hired to steal. It took only a moment for your clever mind to come up with something, even if it wasn’t your best work.

“Your boss told me to meet him here,” you said, latching onto the first excuse you could think of that you hadn’t tried already. It didn’t matter, in your mind, that it probably wouldn’t work. It had to work because you couldn’t disappoint your employer. It wasn’t an option. “He said he wanted to show me something, but I think he just wanted to get me alone.”

It felt stiff and fake, even to you, as you winked at Steve, but using his boss’s attraction to you was your last-ditch effort to get the enforcer to let you go. You just needed his grip to ease up long enough for him to check in with his boss so that you could use the distraction to escape. 

However, you hadn’t accounted for the universe—and the mafia boss and his most trusted enforcer—to be working so expertly against you. 

That time, you did notice when Steve’s gaze moved from your face to something over your shoulder, something deeper in the maze of the mansion’s secret room. Anxiety flooded your body and no matter how much you tried to remain calm, you could feel yourself beginning to panic.

“Is that right?” Steve asked, and despite all your instincts telling you that he wasn’t speaking to you, you opened your mouth to answer him. But he went on before you could. “Did you ask her to meet you here—did you give her your key?”

Your stomach was sinking down to your knees, which were in danger of wobbling as panic consumed your chest, making your heart hammer against your ribs like a bird trying to escape its cage. Your mouth was dry, and for once in your life, you were too stunned to speak. 

You could only watch in horror as Steve’s gaze—cold, blue and knowing—returned to your face, even as he continued speaking to someone else. You had a sneaking suspicion that you already knew who that someone else would turn out to be.

“Or did she pilfer it and sneak in here like the dirty little thief that she is?”

“That depends,” came a voice from behind you—one that was warm and filled with humor, even as it held a dangerous edge. One that you recognized.

It was the voice that belonged to the man of the house, the one you’d spent the past weeks cozying up to so you could steal from him. The one you’d secretly begun to like, along with his loyal enforcer, though that was a secret you planned to take to your grave. Unfortunately, it seemed tha might happen sooner rather than later.

“Does it count as stealing if I let her lift it off me so I could see what she’d do with it?”

Bucky Barnes sauntered into you line of view, shooting you a devastatingly charming grin that made you feel like your panties wanted to melt right off your body. You’d worked hard to ignore your attraction to the Brooklyn mafia boss, but in that moment, you couldn’t deny the way your body responded to him.

With his broad shoulders, bright eyes and towering stature, Bucky was one of the handsomest men you’d ever met. He was hot enough to give Steve a run for his money, and he had the charisma to wield those good looks like a dangerous weapon. You thought you’d been impervious to his hotness and his charms, but in that moment, you realized you weren’t.

Still, it wasn’t until Bucky slid in behind you, curving his big hands possessively around your waist, and caging you in between him and Steve that you realized just how much trouble you were in. Because the whole time you’d been thinking you were conning the head of the Brooklyn mafia and his right-hand man, they had clearly been three steps ahead of you. 

And now you were caught in their trap—literally. You were caught between their big, strong bodies, with nowhere to go and no tricks left up your sleeve. All you had left was to see what they’d do, and hope you could escape with your life, if not with the score that could save you from your employer’s wrath.

The life of a thief wasn’t for the weak, and it was a good thing you were made of stronger stuff than most. You just had to keep your head in the game and not get distracted by Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, and maybe, just maybe, you could still win your freedom.

But too bad for you, that might be easier said than done…

thank you for reading, part 2 is coming soon!! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! ♡♡♡

[malum-af-cth]

MOLLLLLLLLYYYYYYYYYY.

[witchywithwhiskey]

hahahah 😅 thank you for reading!! ♡♡♡

[mickimoo1409]

Reading Recs

Here are my reading recommendations for this week! I've been on holiday so have had lots of time to read some incredible fics.

If you have read anything you think I'll enjoy please let me know. I mostly stick to the big 3, Evans, Stan and Hiddleston but will also read other characters.

Most of these fics are 18+, warnings are on each post.

Access My Masterlist Here

Bucky Barnes

Twisted in bedsheets by @sunday-bug (FWB Bucky x Reader)

Put that down by @danysdaughter (LoserBF Bucky x Reader)

Raw and Older by @winteryn (BF's dad Bucky x Reader)

House cat homewrecker by @pleasantlycrazyworld (BF Bucky x Reader)

I feel it turning into an addiction - full mini series by @sinner-as-saint (Dark Biker Bucky x Reader)

Bucky barnes vs 1 annotated romance novel by @metal-armed-muse (Bucky x Reader)

Last call by @navybrat817 (Soft Dark Bucky x Reader)

Apologise by @jamesbbcrnes (Mob Boss Bucky x Reader)

Misdirection by @azriona (Bucky x Reader)

Other Sebastian Stan Characters

All that glitters - Full Series by @serzhantkris (Lance Tucker x Reader)

Bad by @late-to-the-party-81 (Nick Fowler x Reader)

Special Assignment by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor (Dark Nick Fowler x Reader)

Town gossip by @sunday-bug (Lee Bodecker x Reader)

Good time by @societyfolklore (Lee Bodecker x Reader)

Steve Rogers

Oh home, Let me come home by @paperweight91 (Alpha Steve x Omega Reader)

Dog house by @lunexiax (Steve x Agent Reader)

Life of a thief by @witchywithwhiskey (Enforcer Steve x Reader x Mob Boss Bucky)

Prove it by @silver-pieces (Stucky x Reader)

Netflix and chill by @blowingbarnes (Bf Steve x Reader)

Other Chris Evans Characters

Step by step by @onsunnyside (Stepdad Ari Levinson x Reader x Stepdads BF Lloyd hansen)

Petes Place Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 by @lilacevans (Pete Brenner x Reader / Ari Levinson x Reader)

Just one morning after by @buckets-and-trees (Tattoo Artist Andy Barber x Reader)

Patience wearing thin by @venigrantrogers (Andy Barber x Reader)

Secret Ingredient Part 1 and Part 2 by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor (Mob Baker Steve x Reader)

Babe and Mine by @late-to-the-party-81 (Mob Curtis Everett x Reader)

Joy by @late-to-the-party-81 (Ari Levinson x Reader)

Other Characters

Toxic Ex Tony by @definitelynotaginger (ExBF Tony Stark x Reader)

[witchywithwhiskey]

thank you for including my fic!! ♡♡♡

[oxalaia-quilombensis]

my favorite fics :)

I've been on a liking spree so that I could put this list together of all of the best fics of Shawn's characters I've been reading lately. This list is in no way comprehensive but I've done my very best to put everything I've been loving on it

It is also 100% smut

JACK ABBOT

quarantined by @itslowkeyatthenightshift you and your attending butt heads—and it’s no secret around the ED that Dr. Jack Abbot is harder on you than the other residents. He pushes you further, critiques you sharper, expects more—and you’re done with it. Just as you’re about to go to Dr. Robby to request a switch to days and finally put some distance between you and him, your patient—and his patient—tests positive for COVID-19. Suddenly, you’re both exposed, and with hospital protocol leaving no room for argument, you have no choice but to quarantine together.

do you want the kitchen tour? by @witchywithwhiskey when your already bad date takes a turn for the worse, the head chef of the restaurant comes to see what he can do to help. when he offers to give you a tour of the kitchen, you jump at the chance to escape, and your bad night turns into something else entirely.

behind closed doors by @andrewmiinyard you took over jack and robby's spare room a few months ago and now you and jack are constantly at each other's throats. robby has finally had enough and he's hoping some forced proximity will do the trick. seems like it works a little too well.

temperature control by @mrshatosy Jack Abbott was supposed to find a safer hobby. He wasn’t prepared to find you.

you have no idea by @geminiwritten even after swapping from nights to days, you just can’t seem to escape the inconveniently attractive night shift attending. then a ptmc night out, a sparkly dress, and a not-so-innocent game of never have i ever leads to dr. jack abbot making sure you can never utter the words “never have i ever finished during sex” ever again

the art of mutual benefit by @softundermoonlight “I will pay for your coffee,” you add quickly, stepping forward and leaning into his space. He keeps shaking his head, so, in a moment of pure madness, and lacking better ideas, you just say: “I’ll go down on you.”

gentleman's instinct by @sun-snatcher Sometimes you're reminded how merciless Abbot can be. You indulge in it.

semper fi by @hirukochan Jack Abbot finds himself feeling oddly protective over the new night shift attending. He tells himself it's natural. You were the young widow of a Marine, a military spouse who brought the greatest sacrifice for her country - your husband. He watched you push on with gritted teeth, haunted by your own demons and trauma, all for the little girl depending on you. It was only natural. Any serviceman would feel an obligation towards your well-being. Any serviceman would want to know you were safe... happy... So how come, he can't help but feel like he is stealing another man's life?

ANDREW CODY

bambi series by @miasvelvetvoid One secret changes everything. As the Cody family’s carefully buried truths come to light, you find yourself caught between running from the people you love and fighting for them. In the end, loving Pope Cody doesn’t just change your life, it changes the entire family.

here is my hand that will not harm you by @erwinsvow against better judgement, you send a letter to a man at folsom with very sad eyes. against even better judgement, you send letters every week for years until he stops replying one day. and against everything you know, when he shows up at your door, you invite him inside.

sweetheart by @pearlessance Everyone knows that Pope Cody's girlfriend is a real sweetheart. What they don't know is that, behind closed doors, you're a real fuckin' freak, too.

late shift by @in-ky Being the Cody’s on-call emergency nurse isn’t easy. A dislocated shoulder turns into late night gunshot wounds and before you know it, you’re part of the family. After a rough night, Pope needs some TLC. And who else can help him if not his favorite nurse? You’re the only one who can stitch him up, physically and emotionally.

break me down and I'll call you mine by @flowersforbucky other than the men he brings home on occasion, you’re the only person who knows that deran cody is gay. when your best friend becomes anxious that people are growing suspicious of his sexuality, you suggest telling people that the two of you are dating. everything is going perfectly…until his brother is released from prison and you start feeling things that you haven’t felt in years.

fate. by @andrewmiinyard the three times you decided to flirt with pope cody and the one time you decided to take it one step further.

crush by @pittrabbit the aftermath of overhearing that conversation between pope and baz

worthy by @stellamarielu you tell andrew you want to start a new life with him— away from the chaos of his family, and he agrees with another future promise on his mind

found out by @love-quinn as his favourite waitress at the only diner in town that’ll still serve him, you’re pope’s girl. doesn’t matter if you have a boyfriend, everybody in town knows you belong to andrew cody. especially your poor neighbours on the other side of your apartment’s paper thin wall. you’d usually try and be more considerate of the noise, but with your boyfriend in the trunk of his car, pope needs everybody to hear exactly what he was doing on the night of the third. for alibi purposes.

TITUS DANFORTH

the hunt and the vow by @sargeant-bxrnes you broke up with titus danforth this morning. by nightfall you’re running through his family’s forest with a seven-minute head start and one rule: if he catches you before sunrise, you marry him.

the devil's favorite by @hirukochan In all the years Titus had been alive, no woman had ever captured his attention like you did. Titus could not explain it, he just knew, from the second he first met you, he needed you like air. And he'd move heaven and hell if necessary to get you. Not his father, not yours, not the Lawyer, Mr Le Bail or his demons he had watching over you could ever stop him.

the lottery by @thatcorporategirlie You return to the estate after learning Chester has fallen ill, and learn that the beginning of a new game is about to unfold.

mrs. danforth by @rr-after-dark  As Titus Danforth's sugar baby, you don't know much of his secretive, wealthy lifestyle. But when he accidentally gets you pregnant with a potential Danforth heir, it's decided that you'll be joining the family. There's no manual as you're plunged into their world of extravagance and violence.

hazard pay by @spikedfearn The Danforth estate was built to swallow screams, and tonight you’re the one cleaning up what the hunt leaves behind. When Titus Danforth arrives bleeding, furious, and far too aware of your hands on him, the private medical room becomes its own kind of trap.

please let me know if any of the links aren't working. I want to make sure everyone gets credited for their amazing work :)

[witchywithwhiskey]

thank you for reading and including my fic!! ♡♡♡

[veltana]

"You think you’re in control here? That’s cute." (Bucky Barnes)

"Everyone knew except me." + "Were you trying to spare me, or yourself?" (Bucky Barnes)

"You think you’re in control here? That’s cute." + "You're mine now. Say it." (Steve Rogers)

"That’s what I am to you: a big pillow with soft boobies that you can rest your head on?" (Bucky Barnes)

"Just… don't look at me like I've already become a stranger." (Curtis Everett)

“Don’t tempt me.” (Lloyd Hansen)

whose your favorite nurse on the Pitt?

praise kink + teaching you how to write (Steve Rogers)

match a babe to... a romcom movie plot!

You’re an omega who is going into heat for the first time in years (Curtis Everett)

"Were you trying to spare me, or yourself?" (Steve Rogers)

Coming back home to find green hair dye splotches on the bathroom tiles (Andy Barber)

“This is exactly what you wanted, and we both know it.” (Andy Barber)

“Don’t tempt me.” (Lloyd Hansen)

Shared Desires Bucky and Steve or Such a Bad Day Ari and Jake?

"You know you talk in your sleep, right?" (Dr Robby)

"Don't tempt me." (Bucky Barnes)

[witchywithwhiskey]

on the clock

pairings: werewolf!CEO!Bucky Barnes x human!assistant!female reader

summary: feeling unfulfilled by your job, you sign up to become a member of the Pleasure Portal network, which allows you to have sex with monsters around the world for money. then, when you connect with an anonymous monster on a boring summer day at the office, it leads to an afternoon delight—and something more.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, unspecified age gap, monsterfucking and teratophilia, werewolf/human sex, knotting, sex work/reader becomes a sex worker, portal sex, piv sex, very rough sex, unprotected sex, anonymous sex, multiple creampies, come inflation, cockwarming, orgasm control/delay, multiple orgasms, big cock, size kink, free use, some objectification, dirty talk, sexting, praise kink, light verbal degradation, bdsm undertones, sir kink, pet names (sweetling, sweet girl), aftercare, feelings

word count: 10.2k

a/n: for week 12 of @buckybarnesevents's Hot Bucky Summer event, i had a pretty good idea of the premise for this fic (and it's based loosely on this post) but i had y'all vote to help decide some of the specifics, like Bucky being a werewolf. since the other two options were so close, i worked them both in 🤭 this ended up being way longer than i expected, but i'm really excited about this particular magical universe, and i hope y'all love it as much as i do!! please enjoy some werewolf CEO Bucky!!! ♡

prompt: "You can’t be real." | [Fantasy Character | Monsterfucking | Dreaming/Daydreaming]

Hot Bucky Summer 2025 masterlist

You didn’t need the money. Not really. 

All your bills were easily covered by your job. You worked 60 hours a week as the senior executive assistant to Bucky Barnes, who, in his early 40s, was the first werewolf to ever become CEO of a Fortune 500 company. 

The role paid well enough that you’d been able to buy your dream apartment in Park Slope, Brooklyn, and still have money leftover for savings and fun things like vacations and going out to brunch. 

So you really didn’t need any extra money from a side hustle, because your career was plenty lucrative. But, frankly, your job as Bucky Barnes’ senior EA was boring.

Over the course of your career, you’d worked hard to rise up the ranks of assistants, taking on new roles at different companies until you’d made it to the top of the ladder. But you found yourself in the odd position of having nowhere else to go, and little to do. 

As Mr. Barnes’ senior EA, your job was to oversee the rest of the CEO’s assistants. At any given time, he had half a dozen, all of whom managed his schedule, fetched his dry-cleaning, and did everything else the busy werewolf didn’t have time to do.

However, after the brief transition period when you first stepped into your role and made some changes so that the fleet of assistants ran more efficiently, and everything was delegated to the others, there was little left for you to do.

All that was expected of you was to sit at your desk in the sparsely decorated antechamber outside Mr. Barnes’ office, with its towering, thick wooden doors that were often closed, leaving you entirely alone. Occasionally, you’d have to greet any visitors who’d arrive for an in-person meeting, but that was rare.

Most days, no one came to Mr. Barnes’ office, since the werewolf preferred virtual meetings and phone calls to in-person sit-downs. So you spent long, arduous days alone at your desk while your boss worked and the fleet of assistants scurried around doing his bidding, which was relayed through you.

It left you with a lot of free time—free time that you spent trying to keep busy, and trying not to daydream about your handsome werewolf boss. 

It had been against your better judgement that your foolish heart had caught feelings for Bucky Barnes, but it turned out you had a soft spot for werewolves with icy blue eyes, sharp canine teeth, and expensive suits. It didn’t help that he had a dry sense of humor and a brusque, no-nonsense way of conducting business that you respected.

Still, you maintained a professional demeanor at work, not allowing your feelings for your boss to show when you greeted him in the morning or spoke to him about his schedule. But if you were honest with yourself, your little crush on the werewolf was the reason you didn’t look for another job.

You’d fallen into a routine of monotony, broken up only by the brief, thrilling moments when you interacted with Bucky Barnes. You didn’t even realize you were looking for something to escape the vicious circle your life had become until it was right in front of your face.

It was on one particularly dreary afternoon when you took the first step down a path that would change everything. 

Cold rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the antechamber outside Mr. Barnes’ office, obscuring the view of New York City’s Central Park that lay at the feet of the company’s high-rise in Manhattan. You felt like a princess trapped in a tower, held above and apart from the rest of the world, bitterly alone. 

To remind yourself that you weren’t the last person in the world, living among the gray clouds, you found yourself scrolling through your social media feed, eagerly watching the little windows into other peoples’ lives. 

It was then that you came across a video from a woman who made her living as a “spicy accountant.” Unlike some of the others you’d seen on the app, though, she made her money through something called Pleasure Portal. 

You watched in rapt attention as the woman in the video explained what it was—a network created by the company’s warlock CEO using proprietary portal technology that connected those with willing holes with clients willing to pay to use those holes, even if they were entire continents apart. 

According to the woman, all transactions were completely anonymous and conducted through the app, though there were options for leaving tips and favorable reviews. To ensure everyone’s safety, there was an application process that included health and background checks verified by the Pleasure Portal company. 

And the best part, at least to you, was that it was open to everyone—human and monsters alike.

That had been the most enticing selling point for you, because even if you didn’t need the money, Pleasure Portal offered a safe and anonymous way for you to explore what it would be like to be with a monster, something you’d only ever fantasized about before.

Although you’d developed a crush on him, Bucky Barnes wasn’t the first monster you’d daydreamed about. 

Over the years, you’d wondered endlessly about what it would feel like to be split open by a minotaur, to be put under a lust spell by a warlock, to be tied so intimately by a werewolf’s knot…

You’d been breathless with excitement as you applied to be part of the Pleasure Portal network right then, on that dreary afternoon. You kept oscillating between feeling like it was a dream, too good to be true, and giddy excitement as you filed your paperwork, and gave proof that you tested negative for STIs and were on birth control.

It took surprisingly little time to be approved, the app on your phone unlocking your profile while you were sent the portal device.

As soon as you got the notification that the package had been delivered, in the middle of the afternoon on a hot, summer day, you left your desk, giving Mr. Barnes a ridiculous excuse about needing to go home early to feed your neighbor’s cat. 

Once at you made it back to your apartment in Park Slope, you tore into the box with as much care as you could muster, your eyes widening and lips parting with wonder when you finally got your hands on the portal device.

It was as small as a matchbook and, according to the instructions, should be affixed to your skin above, below or beside the hole you wished to connect to the network. The magic in the device could then be activated only from your app, which required face ID, and it could be shut off using the app or by voicing the safe word you registered with the service.

The app was how you connected with potential Pleasure Patrons, filling out your profile with interests and limits, and setting yourself as available whenever you were open to clients. Anyone looking to use your services as a Pleasure Pocket could send a request, and you had the option to approve or deny based on their profile, which revealed their first name, age and species, and how much money they were offering. 

Although you were almost too excited to read through all the instructions on the portal device and fill out your profile, you forced yourself to pay attention and get through it as quickly and methodically as possible so you could finally get started.

It wasn’t long before you were attaching the device to your mound, just above your pussy, and setting yourself as available on the app. Your profile specified that you were particularly open to monsters—and you were delighted to discover they were all too eager to use your services.

From that night on, you became an active Pleasure Pocket on the Pleasure Portal network. 

At first, you consigned yourself to only using it when you were at home, letting monsters from all over the world rail you while you made dinner or took a shower or lay on your couch watching TV. But work was so boring, and you really didn’t have much to do, so what was the harm in wearing it to the office?

It was breathlessly thrilling to wear the Pleasure Portal device at your desk, alone in the antechamber outside Mr. Barnes’ office, feeling all manner of monster cock fill you while you were on the clock. It got to a point where even if you weren’t stuffed full of cock, you were daydreaming about it. Your idle thoughts constantly wandered back to your favorite Patrons.

The day everything truly changed, was a day like any other.

It was a beautiful sunny afternoon in New York City, the golden summer sun glinting off buildings and giving you a perfect view of Central Park with all its gorgeous green foliage. And it was another boring day at your desk, with nothing for you to do since the assistants were self-sufficient and Bucky was busy behind his closed office doors. 

At that point, you’d been part of the Pleasure Portal network for a few months, and your mind kept straying back to one of your recent clients, a minotaur that had used you the previous week. 

Your fingers toyed idly with the buttons of your silk blouse, which was tucked into a tight black pencil skirt. You bit your lip as you remembered the feeling of the minotaur’s impressive length filling you up for hours one morning, his stamina lasting for what seemed like an eon.

He’d used you for so long, and fucked you so relentlessly, you’d nearly passed out at your desk. It had been glorious.

Once he was done with you, the minotaur had left you a generous tip “for monopolizing your morning,” as well as a favorable review: “5/5 stars, tightest pussy I’ve had in a long time. Would fuck again.”

It was the last part of his review that still stuck with you a week later, and had you daydreaming that he would, in fact, fuck you again. You didn’t often accept repeat clients, but for the minotaur, you’d make an exception. He’d pleasured you well enough that you could see yourself enjoying another session with him.

Unbidden, your thoughts veered sharply away from your minotaur client. Instead, icy blue eyes, sharp canine teeth, and a broad chest clad in an expensive suit flashed through your mind. You tried desperately to halt your thoughts before they could venture further down that path, but your imagination couldn’t be stopped.

Your fantasy shifted, and before you could rein in your mind, you were thinking about being stretched open on a thick werewolf cock while you sat in your boss’s lap. The base of his length, where his knot would inflate, would nudge against your clit and remind you that once he came, you’d be unable to separate. 

Your bodies would be tied together in such an intimate way that couldn’t be ignored. You’d be connected in the most primal, physical way possible…

With a sigh, you blinked the tantalizing image from your mind and returned your focus to the gorgeous sight of the summer sun shining brightly down on New York City, glinting off the water of the lake in Central Park and shimmering off the windows of the other skyscrapers in midtown Manhattan. 

You willed your heart to slow and your breathing to even out in an effort to temper the heat that had begun building in your core. When your fantasy had shifted to Bucky, your slit had flooded with desire, and you could feel the sticky evidence in your panties when you crossed one leg over the other. 

Truthfully, you’d hoped that joining the Pleasure Portal network would distract you from your crush on your boss, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Letting all manner of monsters use your hole was fun, but it was all anonymous, and it lacked the true connection you thought you could only find in real life. 

And, to be perfectly honest, you weren’t interested in finding a true connection with anyone other than Bucky. Even the minotaur from the previous week paled in comparison to your boss. Though he’d been a good lover and had tipped well, you didn’t want anything more from him than a few more orgasms. 

You were, unfortunately, still hung up on the older werewolf CEO with the icy blue eyes that sent shivers down your spine and the devastatingly handsome face. You wanted the monster who sat in his office just a few dozen feet away from your desk, but might as well have been a whole world away with the thick wooden doors and his inability to see you as anything more than his EA.

A soft chime from your phone pulled you from that train of thought and you picked up the device. A small smile stole across your face when you saw a Pleasure Portal notification: A new Patron was requesting a session!

Eager for something to distract you from your thoughts of Bucky Barnes, you quickly opened up the app and scanned the request.

James, 42, werewolf, was asking for an immediate session, and he was willing to pay an exorbitant amount of money—so much that even your eyes widened at the number of zeros. It was more than you made in an entire week as a senior EA, and all for a few hours of being this monster’s Pleasure Pocket. 

Still, you couldn’t lie and tell yourself the money was really what swayed you. It was this potential client’s profile, particularly the part where he noted he was a werewolf. 

After daydreaming about Bucky, you were feeling more than a little needy. And even though fucking this werewolf named James wouldn’t be the same as finally getting the attention you desired from your boss, you couldn’t deny yourself. You wanted a knot, and if you couldn’t have the one you really wanted, you’d take anything you could get.

So, without any more thought, you hit the button on the app that accepted James’s offer.

As soon as the Pleasure Portal app registered your acceptance, you felt the device hum to life on the mound of your pussy. Delightful tingles erupted in a circle around your hole, the magical current of the portal coming to life and teasing your skin.

You gave a little shiver of anticipation as you leaned back in your expensive, ergonomic desk chair. You closed your eyes, and waited for James to begin using his side of the open portal, arousal already gathering between your thighs as you thought about being used by the anonymous Patron.

Less than a minute later, you felt the pointed tip of the werewolf’s cock nudging carefully against your entrance. The first feel of him made your breath catch in your throat.

James felt big, even just the tip of him spreading your lower lips as he pushed against your entrance. He seemed to be taking it slow, testing out your readiness, being careful not to hurt you with one rough thrust.

When you realized how big he was and the care he was taking with you, your pussy flooded with arousal. It was enough to make your hole slick and ready for his massive cock.

It occurred to you that James might be the biggest monster you’d ever taken, and you were eager to find out if you were right about that. In your chest, your heart raced, but the rest of you remained still as you waited with a breathless excitement for James to feed you more of his cock.

Your prediction was confirmed a moment later when James pressed deeper, the narrow tip of his cock giving way to a thick girth that had you gasping for air and clutching the edge of your desk. Your nails dug into the unyielding wood as your pussy clamped down hard on the werewolf’s penetrating length. 

A soft chime came from your phone, and you picked it up to find James had sent a text through Pleasure Portal’s in-app messaging system. Some clients tried to use it for dirty talk, but more often than not, their attempts at seducing you with words had the opposite effect so you usually ignored them. 

However, James’s message was different. 

Fuck, you’re tight. Even for a human. 

The werewolf sounded grumpy, almost resentful of your pussy, like he could barely believe anyone, even a human, could be so tight. It was a far cry from the effusive flattery most other Patrons tried to woo you with, but the honesty of it charmed you. 

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, and your thumbs moved quickly as you typed out a response that you hoped would elicit more delightful grumpiness from the older werewolf. 

Fucked many humans, have you?

The self-satisfied grin on your face slipped when James pushed further into your hole, your mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ and your eyes going wide as your body stretched to accomodate his monster cock. 

He was so big and overwhelming, the velvet-wrapped steel of his girth rubbing deliciously against your inner walls while he pressed deeper, that you momentarily forgot about your phone and it fell with a dull thunk to your desk.

When he was still only partway inside your pussy, James paused, as if giving you time to adjust—and giving himself a moment to send an answer to your question. 

My fair share. How many werewolves have you had?

Picking up your phone to read the message, you huffed a dry laugh at James’s blunt question. It wasn’t really his business—though he must’ve seen on your profile that you had a few positive reviews from past werewolf Patrons—but you found you didn’t mind the intrusive question.

For some reason, you felt a connection to James that had always been lacking in your previous clients, werewolf and other monsters alike. You knew it was likely just because he reminded you of the boss you were crushing on and would never have, but you couldn’t help indulging yourself and gave James an honest response.

A few. None as big as you, though.

The werewolf must’ve shunted his hips forward, burying his cock impossibly deeper in your pussy. The sudden surge of pleasure made you forget yourself, and a desperate squeal slipped from your lips before you could clap a hand over your mouth to muffle the sound.

God, he was so big, the stretch of him burning pleasantly through your core. Your pussy throbbed around the thick girth of his shaft, which was buried so deep, you swore you could feel him in your belly. Pressing a palm to your lower stomach, you stared down at your lap in awe when you could feel the thick steel of him inside your body even while you sat alone in your desk chair. 

The magic of the Pleasure Portal was wild—and you loved it. 

You loved sitting at your desk, in your office above the clouds, stuffed full of werewolf cock where anyone could walk in—where even Bucky could walk in—and talk to you like nothing was out of the ordinary. He’d never know you were full of cock, unless your face gave you away.

That thought made your pussy drip around James’s thick cock, making the slide of his hard length easier as he slipped even deeper. Your moan at the feeling was muffled behind the palm of your hand and you bent over, letting your forehead fall against the cool wood of your desk while you basked in the sensation of being filled so deliciously. 

Even with your thighs trapped tight together by your pencil skirt, the new position opened your body up, and made it easier for James to hilt his monstrous cock in your tight hole. In seconds, he was buried to the base, filling you up more than you even thought possible.

It was all you could do to stifle your blissed-out moans and desperate whimpers in your hand, not wanting to draw your boss’s attention and end your exquisite torment as you writhed in pleasure on James’s cock.

I’m sure you say that to all the monsters on this app.

It took a moment for you to wade through the haze filling your head and grab your phone to read James’s message. 

When you did, you let out an unladylike snort. It was so perfectly grumpy that it made you want to be playful with the older werewolf, an urge you didn’t often care enough about your Patrons to muster.

Gotta earn those tips somehow 🤪

James must’ve let out a low growl at that response, because you could feel the vibration reverberate through his cock where it was buried inside you. 

A soft, pitiful mewl slipped from your lips, and you dropped your head back to your desk with a thunk, your eyes sliding closed as overwhelming pleasure washed through you. 

You’re trouble.

The chime of your phone had you lifting your head back up, your eyes popping open, and you couldn’t bite back the smile at the warm grumpiness of James’s response. 

Something about those two words had your heart doing flips in your chest and the long-dormant butterflies in your stomach taking flight. 

Your inner walls were stretched so perfectly around his hard length, you could practically feel the thrum of his blood pumping in his shaft, and he could feel every throb of your pussy. Your pussy fluttered around the werewolf’s thick cock, and you could feel him twitch in reply. 

It was as if your bodies were conversing in a language all their own.

It was so intimate, the physical connection between you and this anonymous werewolf named James, that you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to your boss. You wondered if he would be as big, if he’d fill you up as good—if you’d be able to feel every vein and ridge in his cock. 

You wondered if Bucky would be able to make you smile and laugh the way James had. 

And as soon as you had that thought, you realized how unfair you were being to James. It wasn’t his fault you couldn’t get over this ridiculous crush on your boss, and you started to feel bad for thinking about another monster while he was inside you.

So you pushed all thoughts of Bucky aside and refocused on James, picking up your phone to type out another playful response, hoping to get another grumpy reply.

Trouble with a tight pussy, though, right? 😉

Yeah, sweetling, you’ve got a very tight pussy. Feels like you’re strangling my dick.

You huffed a laugh at the vaguely violent description of your pussy, enjoying the blunt way the grumpy werewolf spoke. And if your heart fluttered even more at the sweet nickname and naked praise in James’s message, you ignored the blossoming emotion in your chest. 

The only thing worse than harboring a crush on your unattainable boss was developing a crush on one of your anonymous Pleasure Patrons. That way lay only heartbreak, of that you were certain. So you tried to rein in the feelings developing in your heart.

When you tried to type out another playful message and remain detached, though, your fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, sending a text that was perhaps a little too honest. 

Thank you, sir ☺️ I want to please you.

James’s cock jumped inside you, drawing a low, obscene moan from your lips before you could bite it back, your eyes going hazy as pleasure throbbed through your body. 

Distractedly, you wondered which part of your message had elicited that response from James—whether it was you calling him ‘sir’ or your honest desire to please him. Or perhaps it was both.

Before you could muster up the courage to ask, his next message came through, and your mouth curved into a pleased smile when it answered your unspoken questions.

Keep calling me that and you’ll earn a very generous tip, sweetling. 

A pleased smile bloomed across your face as you read James’s message. You tried to tell yourself it was in response to the prospect of the tip he was offering, and not the sweet nickname, but you weren’t fooling yourself. 

You tried to think of a more playful, detached response, but before you could come up with anything, another message came in.

I have a call soon, I just need some quick stress relief beforehand, but I’ll double your tip every time you cum on my cock.

You breathed a sigh of relief before you could stop yourself, happy to have a break from your flirty exchange with the werewolf to talk about the logistics of your session. Still, you couldn’t stop your pussy from fluttering around James’s cock at his blunt, filthy words. 

He filled you so well, it was almost hard to think, and you blamed your needy distraction for the almost desperate tone of the response you sent him. 

Use me, sir, and I’ll do my best to take it 🫡 That’s what I’m here for.

James didn’t need any more encouragement than that. You could feel the way he groaned at your words, the low rumbling of pleasure reverberating through your sensitive inner walls, and making you gush with even more wetness, like your pussy was drooling for the werewolf cock stuffed deep in your hole to fuck you.

Then he was doing just that, using his side of the Pleasure Portal to fuck you hard and fast, pounding into your pussy like you were nothing more than a fleshlight made solely for his pleasure. It was brutal, ruthless, perfect, the way his cock filled your tight hole, the pointed tip bullying your cervix with every merciless thrust.

All you could do was take it, pleasure swarming through your body and overwhelming your mind, until you were little more than the werewolf’s toy, your body hunched at your desk, your face buried in the crook of your arm to muffle your sounds of enjoyment while you took everything he offered. 

Your inner walls were stretched thin around James’s cock, and though the drag of his thick girth felt devastatingly good, it wasn’t enough to make you cum. With trembling fingers, you slipped your hand beneath your pencil skirt, not caring how high up your thighs you pushed the material, just intent about reaching the juncture of your thighs.

It took only a brief brush of your fingers against your clothed clit to set you off. 

Your mouth fell open and you pressed your blunt teeth into your arm through the silk of your blouse, a high-pitched whine falling from your lips as the pleasure in your body exploded and you were carried away in the relentless rhythm of James’s cock pounding into your cunt.

Your panting breath was loud in your ears, but you could’ve sworn you heard a faint groan as your pussy milked the werewolf’s cock, your inner walls clamping down so hard on his thick length, you felt him twitch deep inside you. 

But you brushed off the sound as a figment of your imagination. It must’ve been your mind playing tricks on you, born of a desire to hear your partner when you were alone in your pleasure, with only your gasps and moans as company. You ached to press against James’s sturdy body, to hear his voice, to feel more than his cock…

Thankfully, a soft chime from your phone dragged you back from the sudden rush of loneliness that filled your heart and threatened to consume all your enjoyment like a black hole. 

Good girl. Cum on this fat werewolf cock like the perfect little slut you are, sweetling.

“Oh fuck,” you whispered to yourself, your eyes sliding closed as another shiver of pleasure skated down your spine at his words and his pumping cock. Already, tension was coiling tight in your core again, and you were rocketing toward another release.

You’d never gotten off to the dirty talk your Patrons had sent in the past, but James’s words did something to you no other monster had managed—they made your pussy gush and flutter. They made you moan, the sounds low and lewd as they bounced off the bare walls of the office antechamber. 

James’s message was the ideal mix of praise and degradation. It tapped into your desires so perfectly, you wondered distractedly if he was also a wizard or a mind-reader. 

And then you realized he hadn’t stopped his ruthless pounding even when he’d been texting you, which meant he was fucking his half of the portal with one hand while typing his filthy messages to you with the other.

It all unraveled something in you, and you scrabbled for your phone on the desk, your fingers clumsy and trembling as you typed out a response, desperate for James to know what he was doing to you. You wanted him to know how good he was making you feel. 

You feel so so good inside my tight cunt, sir. Your fat werewolf cock is splitting me open, breaking me apart. Feels sooo good. 

The act of typing out those words made the tension in your body wind tighter, and just as you hit send, you realized you were on the precipice of another release. Quickly, you sent another message without waiting for a response. 

I’m gonna cum again.

Your fingers, which you’d pulled from beneath your skirt so you could text with two hands, slipped back beneath the tight fabric. They squirmed between your plush thighs, which were already pushing the pencil skirt’s seams to they’re limits, and tugged your panties to the side to rub your clit. 

You were careening toward your second release in just a few seconds, your breaths coming in sharp, desperate pants, and your heart pounding in your chest. You could even hear the faint, obscene wet sound of James’s cock pounding into your gushing pussy. 

But all of it fell away when you heard the chime of another message.

Rub your pretty pearl, sweetling, and cum again on this thick werewolf cock. Show me what a good slut you can be for me, use that tight cunt to milk my fat cock. 

Obediently, your fingertips pressed harder to your clit and you rubbed it roughly, matching the rhythm of James’s fucking, until you were shoved over the edge again. Your entire body seized, every muscle in your body going taut, as the tension in your core wound tight and then, suddenly, snapped. 

Dropping your phone to your desk, you shoved half your fist in your mouth to muffle the high-pitched scream that clawed up your throat and wanted to burst free. 

You couldn’t tell how much noise you were making, but you hoped it wasn’t enough to get Bucky’s attention, because you were lost to the bliss James offered. You were a hopeless, pitiful puddle of pleasure in your ergonomic chair—and you never wanted it to end.

While you were in the throes of your release, you thought you heard another groan, deeper and filthier than the one earlier, a sound that matched the way James’s cock kicked deep in your cunt, like he was on the verge of losing himself in your body. 

But that thought drifted away in the current of pleasure that was carrying you along, dissolving as soon as it had appeared, leaving you to revel in your release. 

Distantly, you heard your phone go off, and you reached for it blindly, gasping for breath as you struggled to open your eyes and read the text.

That’s a good girl, cumming so perfectly for me. You have such a slutty hole, sweetling, cumming all over my werewolf cock and clutching at me like you’re begging for more. Do you want another one, my sweet girl?

A soft, sharp whine slipped from your lips and you had to bite down hard on your plush lower lip to stifle the sound. Even still, it ricocheted off the bare walls in the antechamber, and you hoped the thick wood of Bucky’s office doors muffled it. 

But you barely paid your boss any mind, fingers trembling with need and excitement as you typed out a response to James with one hand.

Yes, please, sir. Please make me cum again, I wanna cum all over your big werewolf cock. You fill me up so so good. I wanna bounce on your huge, perfect cock and take every inch of your fat knot, sir. Please!

James’s reply came back so quickly, even you were stunned with how fast it appeared. All he said was: 

Fuck. You can’t be real.

You had little time to marvel over those words, and the way they made your heart flutter dangerously in your chest, because in the next breath James was pounding into you even harder. 

He used your cunt as his own personal pleasure portal, fucking you like you were the stress relief he deserved, shoving his entire length deep inside your pussy. The narrow tip of his cock battered against your cervix, pushing into it a little more each time, giving every thrust a sharp edge of pain that made the pleasure even more exquisitely devastating.

It was all too good, too perfect, your mind splintering as the world around you fell away entirely. You were no longer the senior EA to werewolf CEO Bucky Barnes, you were a Pleasure Pocket made to be used by every manner of monster for their pleasure. 

No, not just any monster—you were made specifically for James, 42, werewolf. You were his personal sex toy, his pocket pussy, his fuck hole. And all you could do was take it—take his cock, take the brutal pounding he offered, and the bliss that came with it, and let him take his pleasure in your body.

You imagined James on the other end of the magical portal, holding the cylindrical fleshlight-like device in his big hands and yanking it down on his impossibly thick cock. You pictured him fucking the portal toy—and, by extension, your cunt—with everything he had, sweat beading on his face, the muscles in his broad body shifting beneath his fur and skin.

Before you could stop it, the image in your mind shifted, the generic figure of a werewolf morphing into something more familiar, something resembling the daydream you’d had earlier. 

In your mind’s eye, James became Bucky. 

You could so easily picture the way Bucky’s bright blue eyes would flash with hunger and darken with lust as he pounded into your tight cunt, the emotions churning like the sky during a summer thunderstorm. 

It was far too easy to imagine the way his sharp canine teeth would glint in the lights of the office as he bore down on your body, his expensive suit only undone enough to free his cock, the gush of your pussy making a mess of the front of his slacks as he split you open with every thrust.

His inhuman muscles would strain the seams of his suit, making them cling to the bulge of his biceps and the flexing of his thighs as he fucked you on his desk. You’d be entirely at his mercy, which was exactly where you wanted to be more than anywhere else in the world—even with James.

A pang in your chest dragged you out of your fantasy, and you remembered the werewolf who was actually fucking you. You felt a little bit bad for daydreaming about Bucky when you were with James, especially since the latter had quickly become your favorite Patron. But, you reasoned, what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

So you sank deeper into your daydream about your boss, imagining it was Bucky fucking you instead of some random stranger on the other end of the Pleasure Portal. 

The combination of James’s perfect cock and your imagination’s perfect picture of Bucky was too much for your mind and body to take. The werewolf was fucking you too hard and too fast, and you were breathless from the pleasure, unable to stop yourself from speeding toward a devastating release. 

You held on for as long as you could, but James seemed intent on making you cum again before his call began. And the werewolf confirmed as much when your phone chimed with another message.

Do it. Cum on my cock, sweetling. Be a good girl and give it to me so I can fill you up with my knot and stuff your tight pussy full of cum. Then you can sit pretty on my fat werewolf cock like a perfect little knot slut while I take this call.

Those filthy words were all you needed to push you over the edge. 

A breathy, high-pitched cry escaped your lips before you could stop it, but you were too far gone to care. Pleasure overwhelmed you, blackness creeping into the edge of your consciousness as your body shivered and shook with the force of your release.

All the while, your pussy was clamped down on James’s thick cock as he kept fucking you, like your body was begging for his cum. His hard length vibrated with a groan you could’ve sworn you could hear. You swayed perilously in your chair, your eyes closed and your entire being focused on the cock bringing you so much pleasure.

The werewolf lasted only a few more moments, his thrusts turning wild and erratic as he rutted into your too-tight cunt. Then he was shoving his cock deep in your hole, his knot inflating and stretching the edge of your hole a second before his big cock twitched inside you, spilling his cum in your plugged pussy.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sudden stretch of James’s knot, and though there was a brief moment when you worried he might be too big for you to take, your body was loose and relaxed enough from your three orgasms that it adjusted. You were left with a feeling of being blissfully full.

It felt so good, in fact, that you leaned back in your chair with a sigh of contentment. Your fingers trapped between your thighs stroked your clit and your pussy pulsed with one more release. 

Pleasure shivered down your spine as you came again, and your inner walls fluttered weakly around James’s cock, sucking him deeper while his shaft throbbed and he filled you with cum.

Did you just cum for a fourth time, just on my knot?

You dragged your hand from beneath your skirt to grab your phone when it chimed. A sated smile curled the corners of your lips as you read James’s message, your pussy fluttering with happiness. 

The smile bloomed into a full-blown grin when you typed out your response, going for playful but ending up sending something entirely too honest. Again.

Yes, sir 🥴 I wouldn’t have thought of myself as a knot slut, but I think you’ve converted me. 

Haha

James’s dry response had a pleased sense of pride filling your chest. It was the first time he’d shown any kind of emotion outside of his dirty talk, and your heart squeezed, even as you told yourself nothing good could come of the little crush you were developing on your Pleasure Portal client. 

Before you could spiral about how you felt about James, though, another text from the werewolf came through your phone. 

Time for you to rest, sweetling. Be a good girl and keep my cock warm while I take this call. If you’re patient, I’ll use you again and double your tip.

You smiled at James’s message. Of course you could be patient and good, especially for him. You shifted in your seat, trying to get comfortable and accustomed to the feeling of fullness in your core.

It was a little strange, the feeling of James’s thick cock and full knot inside you, mainly because you were still alone at your desk, high above the New York City skyline, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, you thought you might be able to get very used to sitting on a werewolf’s knot, and even enjoy it very much. 

But you would’ve rather been able to do so in the presence of the werewolf whose knot you were tied to.

A pang of loneliness pierced your heart, and you thought of the werewolf whose knot you really wanted to be tied to, but you quickly pushed it away. Instead of thinking about your boss, you focused on the throbbing pulse between your thighs where you were tied to the anonymous werewolf.

Thank you, sir. Knock ‘em dead 😘

As soon as you sent the message, you wanted to take it back. Blowing a kiss felt too…romantic, too intimate for a Pleasure Pocket and their Patron. But the little note had already popped up confirming James had seen it. He didn’t respond, though, and you had to assume his call had started.

You tried to distract yourself by checking on your own work. 

The fleet of assistants were all busy with their tasks, and according to Bucky’s schedule, he was in a meeting for the next couple hours. 

It was a relief to know your boss wouldn’t be interrupting your session with James, and you wondered distractedly if they might happen to be on the same call. But then you snorted and shook your head at the ridiculous thought. Not every werewolf knew each other, you chastised yourself, and it was small-minded to think otherwise.

It was just a coincidence that James was in a call at the same time that Bucky was in a virtual meeting. 

Satisfied that there wasn’t any work to be done, you got comfortable in your chair, and closed your eyes against the bright summer sun filtering in through the windows of the antechamber. You allowed your mind to drift and daydream to your heart’s content.

You wondered what James looked like—what color his eyes were; what shape his canine teeth were, if he left them sharp or had filed them to be blunter and more socially acceptable. You wondered if he was broad-shouldered, like Bucky, or lithe and slim like other werewolves you’d seen.

All the while, you tried to ignore the building restlessness in your body. 

You should’ve been plenty sated after James gave you four orgasms in such a short period of time, but the constant fullness of his cock in your cunt and his knot stretching the rim of your hole was enough to make you needy again.

Still, you remembered James’s last command, and you did your best to sit still, be patient and not bother him. It wasn’t that you cared much about the tip he’d offered, you just wanted to be good for him. 

After a while, James’s knot deflated enough that he could’ve pulled free and ended the sessions, but he kept his cock lodged inside you. His cum was slowly seeping out around his thick girth, soaking your panties and creating a sticky mess between your thighs. 

Unfortunately, that only turned you on more, your renewed desire mixing with the copious amount of James’s cum, and it wasn’t long before you couldn’t stop squirming in your seat. Unable to stop yourself, you slid a hand beneath your skirt, already bunched up around your thighs, and rubbed your clit teasingly.

The touch was enough to make your pussy pulse around James’s cock, and you felt his thick length kick in response. He’d softened a little since unloading his cum in your pussy, but you felt him start to harden again.

A second later, your phone chimed. 

Sweetling.

A shiver of desire slid down your spine at the warning in James’s tone, even through text. 

You knew the message was meant to stop you from distracting him during his call, but you couldn’t help yourself. You stroked your clit, delighting in the feeling of your pussy throbbing and his cock twitching deep in your tight hole, growing to fill you again. 

With one hand, you typed out a reply.

I tried to be good, sir, but I’m just a silly knot slut who needs you to fill me up with your fat werewolf cock again until you’re pumping my tight cunt full of your cum and tying me to your cock with your knot 🤪

James’s response came back a few seconds later.

I knew you’d be trouble.

You gave a soft snort at his words, and though it was difficult to discern someone’s tone over text, you got the impression James’s comment was said with warmth. 

Before you could analyze it any more, the werewolf’s cock began to move inside you. He fucked you in slow, shallow strokes that gave you only a fraction of the friction you needed to get close to cumming again. 

You expected him to pick up speed, but he went on like that for long, torturous minutes, until a pitiful whine was building in the back of your throat and you were scrabbling for your phone. 

In just a few minutes, James had reduced you to a desperate mess, your hips squirming restlessly in your chair, your body uselessly trying to fuck yourself on his cock.

Please, sir. Please fuck me, use my tight pussy to make your cock feel good. You’re tormenting me. I can’t get off like this. Please!

Writhing in your chair, you unbuttoned your blouse down to your bra, brazenly groping your tits and plucking at your nipples while you tried to give yourself the stimulation James seemed determined to withhold.

His next reply seemed to take forever. 

Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you decided to be a naughty knot slut instead of a good, patient girl like I asked.

A frustrated sound wrenched free from your lips and you abandoned your tits to drop your hand between your thighs. You rubbed your clit madly, intent on eking out a release despite James’s torture. 

James must’ve felt the way your pussy spasmed and fluttered around his cock as your pleasure ramped up, because another message came through.

If you cum, you won’t get any of the tip you’ve earned.

Your mouth twisted in a snarl and you rolled your eyes. Of course every man or monster using Pleasure Portal assumed you could be controlled with money. They all assumed that was the only thing you were after. 

You’d never been more grateful for Mr. Barnes’ generous salary than in that moment, because it meant you could care more about your release than James’s threat.

You kept rubbing your clit, rocking your hips on your seat until the ergonomic chair began to squeak. You were desperately clawing your way to the peak of your pleasure, and though you could already tell it wouldn’t be anywhere near the heights you’d reached earlier with James, it would at least take the edge off. 

But then the werewolf’s next message made your fingers go still. 

If you cum, I won’t use your pussy again. 

Your whole body shuddered in protest at the idea of not feeling James’s cock pounding into your cunt again, and a tiny growl slipped from your lips. 

It took a great deal of effort, but you pulled your hand from between your thighs and typed out a reply.

Fine.

You couldn’t help but tack on another message, anger, desire and frustration swirling through your body and making you feel far too comfortable with your client.

You’re a mean werewolf.

Faint vibrations reverberated through James’s cock and you thought he’d chuckled at your message, though you couldn’t be sure. Even more frustration surged, and for the first time since you started using the Pleasure Portal, you wished you were actually with your client. 

You wanted to see James’s reactions, you wanted to hear his voice and feel his strong body beneath yours while his cock filled you up…

That’s ‘You’re a mean werewolf, sir’ to you. 

James’s message brought your attention back to him and, despite yourself, you giggled at his ridiculous joke. Some of the frustration had drained from you as you eased back from the edge of your release, and you were ready to forgive him. 

But before you could, he sent another text.

Don’t worry, sweetling, my call’s almost over. Then I’ll use you the way you want. 

With a happy grin, you settled back into your chair and waited patiently, keeping the werewolf’s cock nice and warm in your dripping pussy. You kept your thoughts on easy things like your plans for the next weekend as you watched the sun slowly descend on New York City, the shadows growing long as they stretched across Central Park.

True to his word, James’s call ended not too long after his last message. You knew the moment it was over because he started fucking you hard and fast again, so suddenly you cried out, careless about whether your boss could overhear you. 

Thankfully, those thick wooden doors to Bucky’s office must’ve swallowed the sounds you made. You shoved your hand under your skirt, rubbing your clit, desperate to reach the crescendo he’d denied you during his call. 

Cum on my cock, sweetling. Gimme all your sweet cream while I fill you up with so much cum, your belly will be bloated, stuffed full with my seed and knot.

As soon as you read James’s message, you were lost to the pleasure of his words and his cock, and your fingers on your clit.

You muffled a piercing scream in the palm of your hand as you came, your mind flooding with pleasure and your pussy clamping down possessively on James’s cock while he rutted into you. You were so far gone in your bliss, you thought you heard a roar over the rush of blood in your ears, but you didn’t think it could be real.

Then all thoughts were pushed from your mind and you could only focus on your own clenching body, the warm waves of bliss surging through your limbs as James’s knot inflated and tied you together. His cock twitched as his cum spilled inside you, filling you beyond what you thought possible. 

You looked down at your belly, watching it swell slightly; your eyes widened, and your pussy gave an excited pulse. The sight was so obscene, you couldn’t help your response, but the werewolf on the other end of the portal didn’t seem to mind.

James’s cock kicked and reverberated like he’d groaned or chuckled, and you softened, relaxing into your seat as you enjoyed the aftershocks of your release. All the while, you lightly stroked your ever-so-slightly distended belly with a sense of pleased satisfaction. 

While you floated in your post-orgasm haze, your phone chimed with a sound like a cash register. Lazily, you picked it up, knowing it wasn’t a text, and read the screen.

Your jaw dropped and your whole body clenched in surprise at the amount of money James had tipped. His cock twitched as if in response in your cunt and you pressed your palm to your lower belly, as if to calm him, while you blinked a few times.

Still, the absurd number remained on your phone’s screen. 

You earned it, sweetling. 

The message popped up in the app and you clicked on it, navigating to your exchange with James. Your fingers were clumsy as you typed out a reply.

Thank you, sir. You’ve been so incredibly generous.

You chewed on your lip, thumbs hovering over the screen as you wondered if you should say more. 

You didn’t want James to think your session was all about the money, but was that a ridiculous thought? Maybe it was all about the money to him. He was using an anonymous sex portal app, after all. Not looking for someone to form a connection with.

But it still seemed like there was something more between you two, right? You felt more comfortable with him than you had any other client, like you knew him already somehow…

Before you could agonize over your exchange with James any more, a new message from the older werewolf came in. 

You were the best stress relief and cockwarmer, sweetling, and I enjoyed our afternoon together. I hope you’ll accept me as a Patron again.

James’s words settled the anxiety brewing in your chest and you let out a sigh of relief. You knew it didn’t mean he’d ever want more than you offered on Pleasure Portal, but at least he wanted to be with you again. It was as simple as that, you didn’t need to overcomplicate it.

He wanted to have another session with you—and you wanted that as well. So you told him as much. 

I had a good time, too. You’re welcome to use me any time you want, sir ☺️

The two of you chatted about unimportant things until James’s knot deflated, and he instructed you to drink plenty of water and have a nutritious snack. You promised him you would and bid him goodbye before ending the session.

Glancing at the time on your phone, you suddenly realized how late it had gotten and you pushed yourself up to your feet.

All the blood rushed to your head and you swayed for a moment, blinking spots from your eyes. Remembering James’s words, you gulped down some water from your reusable water bottle and grabbed a snack from your desk along with a spare set of clothes you kept on hand for messy Pleasure Portal sessions.

In the bathroom, you changed and cleaned yourself up, glad that Bucky was already in his office when you got to your desk that morning so he wouldn’t notice you were wearing something different if you ran into him.

Though that was a big if.

Your heart sank a little at the reminder of your unrequited crush on your boss, but hope filled you again when you thought of your newest Pleasure Patron. It might be another silly crush on an unattainable man, but at least James seemed interested in you.

By the time you made it back to the antechamber outside Bucky’s office, it was time for you to gather your things and head home. 

You were bent over your desk, your hips straining at the seams of the slightly smaller pencil skirt you’d thrown on, having forgotten it had shrunk a little in the wash, when a door opened behind you. You jumped and straightened up, nearly dropping your water bottle and spilling it all over your desk. 

“Oh! Mr. Barnes,” you said, spinning to find your boss towering in the doorway of his office, broad shoulders filling the space. “Heading home early?” you asked in a bright, professional tone, trying to hide the breathlessness from your voice. 

It wasn’t often that you saw your boss. He was always in meetings or coming or going from his office so that you only got cursory glances of the large werewolf. But he was paused for once, and you took a moment to look him over.

He had a mop of dark brown hair, worn just a little bit shaggy so no one could ever accuse him of trying to pass as anything but a werewolf. His blue eyes were bright and sharp in the late afternoon light, and you could see just a hint of his canine teeth as he offered a charming smile.

That expression on Bucky’s face nearly bowled you over. Your eyes skimmed quickly over his broad shoulders, trim waist and thick thighs before returning to the handsame face of the werewolf that haunted your daydreams. He looked every bit the important CEO, but there was also a looseness in his body you’d never seen before.

“I am,” Bucky said, his blunt words drawing you back to the moment. He held a hand out in a gesture for you to precede him to the elevators beyond the antechamber outside his office. “Let me walk you out.”

The offer was so surprising, all you could do was murmur, “Oh, thank you,” before scurrying in front of him. As you began to walk, you felt James’s cum begin to leak from your pussy and you moved faster.

Your belly wasn’t bloated anymore, and you’d cleaned yourself up as well as you could in the bathroom, but your Patron had filled you with so much cum, you expected you’d be leaking for the rest of the day, if not into the morning. 

You hoped desperately that your boss couldn’t smell it, because if he did, you wouldn’t have any explanation if he decided to question why you smelled like another werewolf’s cum when you were meant to be working at your desk outside his office.

When you came to a stop at the elevator bank, Bucky gently laid a hand on the small of your back and leaned around you to press the button. Thankfully, he didn’t show any signs of smelling James on you, and you exhaled a silent sigh of relief. 

The two of you made idle chatter while you waited for the elevator—you asked him how his afternoon meeting had gone and the edge of Bucky’s mouth fluttered like he was holding back a smirk while he told you it went very well. He said he’d gotten everything he wanted. 

Then he asked how your afternoon had gone, and you’d stumbled out a response about being very productive, all while more of James’s cum leaked from your cunt. 

As  you talked, you got the sense that Bucky was in a better mood than usual. He was certainly more talkative and open with you than was typical for the older werewolf CEO. He was polite, of course, but he mostly left you alone to do your job, only communicating via email.

But that particular afternoon, he seemed…happier. His icy blue eyes were warm, crinkling at the sides whenever he chuckled, and his smile was quicker, easier somehow. 

Impossibly, it made Bucky Barnes even more attractive to you. 

He was hot as the brusque and busy werewolf CEO, but this side of him, which was charming and warm, was even hotter. You could feel your heart unfurling in your chest, your feelings for your boss not only returning, but blossoming into something you didn’t know if you’d ever recover from.

When the elevator finally arrived, it was empty, and you gave yourself a subtle shake as you stepped in, reminding yourself that your boss was off-limits and likely didn’t see you as a potential partner. 

Bucky followed you, pressing the button for the lobby and turning to you as if to continue your conversation. But just then, the door whooshed closed and you were alone in a small, enclosed space with your boss—your werewolf boss. 

You were already looking at him, anticipating what he’d been about to say, so you were able to watch the change in his demeanor as it happened. 

Bucky’s nostrils flared, and his shoulders stiffened, his bright blue eyes darkening with something you could only describe as hunger. His gaze raked over your face, and his chest expanded as he took a deep breath, his thick muscles testing the limits of his suit. 

You watched as recognition dawned in his sharp, icy eyes, and if your mind wasn’t so sluggish after your afternoon of orgasms, you might’ve understood what was going on, what he was realizing. 

As it was, you still hadn’t caught up with the shift in Bucky. You stared at him in confusion as he stepped quickly to the side, his thick finger pressing the emergency stop button on the elevator. It shuddered to a halt between floors, leaving you alone with your boss.

Slowly, Bucky turned to you, his eyes flashing with lust and his teeth bared so that you could see the light glinting off his canine teeth. He prowled toward you slowly, like he was trying not to spook you. 

All you felt was intrigued, a thrill of excitement shooting through your body as you allowed Bucky to back you into the corner of the elevator until his chest was a hair’s breadth away from yours. Your chest was heaving in your blouse with excited, panting breaths, and your head was tilted back, watching Bucky’s face closely.

The purr that came from the werewolf CEO was so low and dark, you hardly recognized it as belonging to your boss, even as the sound went straight between your thighs. Your pussy thrummed eagerly in response, like it knew something you didn’t—like it recognized him in a way you didn’t understand yet. 

“Tell me, sweetling,” Bucky Barnes rasped, staring deep into your eyes as his big hand settled possessively on your hip. You swayed into him, watching his pink mouth framed by dark, gray-streaked stubble as he voiced the question that would change everything. “Why do you smell like my cum?”

thank you for reading!! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

as a reminder of my blog's rules, please do not comment/reblog only to request a part 2! specific questions and comments about the fic, the characters, and the larger universe are entirely welcome!! i just ask that you please engage with my story rather than simply demanding more!!

Hot Bucky Summer 2025 masterlist

[malum-af-cth]

What am i up to? Oh nothing much. Just thinking about this fic during my work day….. 🤤🤭

[witchywithwhiskey]

hahahah as you should! 🤣 thank you thank you for reblogging!! ♡♡♡

[saiyanprincessswanie]

SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Week 301 & 302

I want to apologize to my followers that it’s been 3 weeks since I put out a list. Between losing 3 people in my life to death and health issues I just didn’t have time. Hopefully I’m back again and can stay consistent. With that said…

Hello everyone and welcome to my recommended reading list! I hope you will find something you will enjoy on this weeks list.

Thank you to everyone who enjoys my lists and reblogs them. Your support means the world to me. Thank you again to those who recommended fanfics or tagged me.

💜 This week, I read 30 fanfics—absolutely amazing fanfics. It has been so much fun for me, and I hope you enjoy my reading lists.

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community. 💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

For my Masterlist Click HERE.

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Header by @fictional-affairs

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr. Likes are nice but Reblogs are golden.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

The Ultimate Risk - Part 1 - (Bucky x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Thankful Throne - (Thor x Reader) - @societyfolklore

Dishes and Desire - (Bucky x Reader) - @societyfolklore

Mission Possible - (Thor x Reader) - @castielscaplan

Talkin' Bout My Girl - (Bucky x POC!) - @castielscaplan

Hello, My Old Heart - (Stucky x Reader) - @castielscaplan

Sir Everett (Snippet) - @thezombieprostitute

Cherry Bomb (Snippet) - @thezombieprostitute

Lumberjack in Love - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

JJS Day 2 - (Bucky x Reader) - @thenameswinter99

bucky uses his strength on you - (bucky x reader) - @love-stucky

Never Moved On From Each Other » (Frank x Reader) - @sergeantbarnessdoll

Communication is absolutely useless - (Steve & Groot) - @nekoannie-chan

We will always take care of you - (Stucky x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Chosen (2) - (Bucky x Reader) - @holylulusworld

High Stakes - (Bucky x Reader) - @castielscaplan

Date 4 - Lee Bodecker - @mickimoo1409

Happy Birthday Bucky - (Bucky x Reader) - @mickimoo1409

the beast inside - (Curtis x Reader) - @witchywithwhiskey

Just Everything - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Let Me Do the Work - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

The Way You Do - (Destroyer!Chris x Reader) - @societyfolklore

Brooklyn Bouncers - (Stucky x Reader) - @mercurial-chuckles

The Contract - Chp 5 - (Bucky x Reader) - @mickimoo1409

First & Last - Part 2 - (Bucky x Reader) - @sunday-bug

Last Call - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

1st June - JOY - (Bucky x Reader) - @daydreamgoddess14

Nonsense - (Wade W x GN!Reader) - @tarithenurse

Good Girl Tonight - (Steve x Reader) - @societyfolklore

Joy - (Ari x Reader) - @late-to-the-party-81

[witchywithwhiskey]

thank you for including my fic!! ♡♡♡

[witchywithwhiskey]

Hi hi! ‘matching pajamas’ with Curtis, if it sparks your inspiration, please!❤️

the beast inside

pairing: boyfriend!curtis everett x female reader

summary: you convince your boyfriend to wear matching pajamas, and even though he's reluctant at first, he comes around to it—with some help from you.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, oral sex (m receiving), cock worship, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, choking, light orgasm control, light dacryphilia, light degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names (doe, baby), aftercare, established relationship

word count: 2.0k

a/n: thank you for sending in this prompt, Stormy!! it inspired some fun and filthy smut with grumpy boyfriend Curtis (who might actually be my favorite version of Curtis??). i just have to imagine that he'd be so grumpy about wearing a onesie, even if it's for his girl, but of course, she proves to him how fun it can be 😈 anyway, i hope you enjoy what i came up with—thanks for playing my blizzard bacchanal game ♡

"I look ridiculous."

The growled statement came from your boyfriend, Curtis Everett, who'd just stepped out of the bedroom the two of you shared wearing a red and black buffalo plaid onesie. 

It matched the one you wore exactly, but, in your opinion, it suited him much better. 

The flannel fabric pulled tight across his broad shoulders, the sleeves hugging his biceps and broad chest so deliciously, you started drooling a little bit. And that was before your gaze trailed down to his thick, tree-trunk thighs that were testing the limits of the pajamas—not to mention the far-too-enticing bulge nestled between his legs.

Somehow, the onesie made him look even bigger and burlier, like the big, handsome beefcake you always knew your man was.

"No, you don't," you said honestly, rising from the couch and padding over. You stopped right in front of Curtis, pressing a hand to his broad, beefy chest and brushing a kiss to his cheek above his beard. "You look hot,” you murmured in his ear, letting your voice go husky with desire.

"No, you look hot," Curtis muttered, grabbing your ass in his big hands and hauling you into his strong arms. "Don't think I didn't notice the flap in the back, doe—you better believe I'll be fucking you bent over on the couch before the night's through."

With a breathy giggle, you pressed your soft curves flush against the hard lines of his body, feeling his cock thicken and grow between you until he was hot and hard against your stomach. Smirking, you rubbed yourself against Curtis shamelessly, feeling his hard length twitch with need. 

"Mm, don't threaten me with a good time, bear," you purred before giving him a deep, lingering kiss. 

Heat built between the two of you as the kiss went on for a small age. Curtis groaned when he slipped his tongue into your hot mouth, his hands groping your ass shamelessly while you rubbed your body enticingly against his. Already, you were as wet for him as he was hard for you—and you were eager for more.

Before you could decide what exactly you wanted to do with your man, though, Curtis pulled away with a growl of frustration, his pale face flushed pink. He yanked at the collar of his pajamas, swearing. "Jesus, do these things have to be so warm, I feel like 'm suffocating."

His words gave you an idea and you jumped into action, tugging at the zipper beneath his chin. “Here, let me help you with that.”

Oh so slowly, you bared his broad, hairy chest for your hungry eyes. There was so much pale skin and dark hair, so much soft flesh and hard muscle, that you felt your desire dripping down your thighs. But still, you kept going, revealing more and more of your boyfriend’s body.

When you lowered yourself to your knees, Curtis finally seemed to catch on to what you had planned and his eyes darkened, his hands falling to your head. He held you like you were something precious, his fingers brushing reverently over your cheeks and chin as he stared down into your upturned face.

“You had this planned all along, didn’t you, doe?” Curtis teased, his voice low and gruff like an animal’s growl. “Get me all hot ’n bothered, then suck me off so I won’t change out of this fucking onesie.”

You tugged his zipper the rest of the way down, then reached inside the warm flannel to pull out his thick cock. He was already leaking precum and you ducked your head forward to lick it up like it was a dripping ice cream cone, reveling in the low groan Curtis let out.

"Maybe," you teased right back, pressing a kiss to the underside of his hard length and closing your eyes as you breathed him in. You loved the smell of him, warm and musky and all Curtis. When you opened your eyes again, they were glassy and unfocused as you looked up at your man. "Is it working?"

“Fuck, better than it should be," Curtis confessed, his head hanging low and his eyes going impossibly dark as he watched you press kisses all over his cock. “Jesus, just look at you, doe, so pretty on your knees for me.” His fingers shook slightly as he stroked your cheeks affectionately, making you smile. 

For the moment, Curtis was content to leave you to your own devices. He simply watched you with that dark, hungry gaze of his while you worshipped his cock with your lips and tongue, getting him nice and wet with your spit and kisses. 

His sounds of pleasure were music to your ears, and you were eager for more, so you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock and took him into the tight heat of your mouth. Curtis moaned, low in his throat, his fingers flexing against the sides of your face as he fought to let you remain in control.

You worked his cock deep into you throat, bobbing on the shaft and taking him just a little bit more with every inhale. After a few moments of this, your nose finally brushed the hair at the base of Curtis’s cock, and the edges of your mouth curved upward in a pleased smile. 

Looking up at your man, you found Curtis nearly undone above you, chest heaving with heavy breaths, his eyes dark with a feral kind of lust. His handsome face was twisted into an expression of pure desire, and you felt his fingers tremble that much harder against your cheeks as he kept his control on a tight leash. 

But you were ready for that tether to snap. You wanted your bear of a man to let loose and take what he needed from your mouth, so you braced your hands on his thick thighs and peered up at him with wide eyes. Then you hummed, the vibrations of your throat making Curtis’s cock twitch violently in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he cursed viciously. "Want me to fuck that pretty throat, doe?" he rumbled, brushing a tear from your cheek that had fallen from the corner of your eye. 

Even though he was practically shaking with need, Curtis waited until you nodded your head as best you could before he finally gave in to the beast inside him.

In a split second, Curtis grabbed your head in a firm grip, bracing you between his hands while he pulled his hips back, until only the tip of his cock remained on your tongue. Then he shunted forward, burying his thick cock back in your throat with one brutal thrust, his balls slapping against your chin, which was already coated in drool.

“That’s it, fucking take it, doe. Take my cock deep in that tight throat,” Curtis growled, pounding into your mouth with a ruthless strength, making you gag as tears streamed down your cheeks. “Choke on it, baby, choke on my fat cock.”

Since he had such a good grip on your head, there was nothing for you to do but take his cock as he skull-fucked you—and you fucking loved it. You knew you that if you pinched his thigh, he would’ve stopped immediately, but you were happy right where you were. 

There was something so glorious about seing Curtis Everett completely unleashed.

It made your own slick desire drip from your cunt, and you moaned around Curtis’s pounding cock, drawing a grunt from the big man, who fucked your mouth harder.

“You’re so pretty crying on my cock, doe, y’know that?” he cooed down at you, his voice a deliciously patronizing growl as he rubbed your tears and spit into your skin. “Such a pretty, slutty little mess.”

You moaned, long and low, around Curtis’s thick cock, and he rumbled a pleased sound low in his chest. It felt so good to let him use you that your hips began rocking, humping the open air between your spread thighs, trying desperately to rub your clit on the seam of the pajamas with no luck. 

“Shit, fuck,” Curtis cursed, catching what you were doing at his feet, his eyes growing sharp and intent on your body as his mouth twisted into a snarl. “Your throat feels good, doe, but do you know what I really want?”

A second later, Curtis pulled his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, and then he was hauling you up from your knees and tossing you onto the couch. 

You bounced once, gurgling a gasp as you tried to catch your breath, your head hazy with pleasure, before Curtis was grabbing your hips and flipping you over onto your hands and knees. Your cheek pressed against the couch cushions while he ripped open the flap covering your bare ass. 

Without anymore warning, Curtis shoved the full length of his cock into your needy, dripping cunt, and you pressed your face into the cushions and screamed your pleasure. The stretch of his girth in your tight hole, the hot, heavy weight of him inside your slick hole—it was glorious.

"Fuuuuck, that's good,” Curtis groaned, pulling his hips back and slamming forward, wrenching another cry from your parted lips. 

You turned your face to the side, panting with pleasure as he began to ramp up his thrusts, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass filling the room.

"Sooo good," you agreed in a slurred, blissed out voice. 

You were right where you wanted to be, ass up and head down, your cheek pressed against the couch cushions so you could watch over your shoulder as your man rutted into you like a beast. 

His teeth bared in a feral grin, Curtis curled his big body around yours, his chest to your back, and wrapped his hand around your throat, tucking your head against his shoulder. Then he set a brutal pace, fucking you hard and fast, his hips clapping against your ass in a cacophony of pleasure.

It wasn’t long before you right on the precipice of your release, your entire body wound tight, only needing another little push to send you crashing over the edge. 

"Cum on my cock, doe, give it to me,” Curtis growled in your ear, choking you with his big hand. “I want to feel you cumming all over my dick before I fill you up." His other hand slipped between your thighs and rubbed your clit over your matching pajamas. "Fucking cum for me."

The dam of your pleasure burst and you came with a choked scream, pleasure crashing over your body violently, making you shudder and shake and weep in his arms. It was all you could do to cling to your man as you weathered the storm of ecstasy as you came.

Curtis followed you over the edge a moment later, pumping you full of his cum while your pussy sucked him deeper, milking him dry. He fucked you through your releases, brushing sweet kisses to your cheeks, his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle softly, your throat feeling raw and ravaged.

Once both of you were spent, Curtis gently pulled free from your body and closed the flap of your pajamas, ducking down to press a kiss to the base of your spine—a promise of another round later in the evening. Then he tucked his cock away and zipped himself up to his belly.

Your legs were still shaking when Curtis pulled you into his lap and cuddled you tight, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. You threaded your fingers through his beard and held him close, kissing your man until your lungs were aching for air.

“Told you matching pajamas would be fun, bear,” you murmured huskily when you finally pulled away, looking up into Curtis’s handsome face with a pleased smile on your lips.

Curtis Everett had the grace to admit when you were right, and he nodded solemnly. “I’ll wear matching pajamas any time you want, doe,” he promised, stealing a quick kiss before he tucked your head under his chin and held you tight. “Especially if it always ends like this.”

thanks for reading!! reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡♡

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Curtis really was a beast in this and I absolutely loved every smutty moment of it. This big man can have me any day of the week 🥵🤭🫠

[witchywithwhiskey]

yesssss i'm so glad you enjoyed!! boyfriend!Curtis is a beast and we love him for it 😌

thank you for reading!! ♡♡♡

[witchywithwhiskey]

the life of a thief ⟨part 1⟩

part 1 ⟡ part 2 (coming soon!)

pairing: mafia enforcer!steve rogers x female reader x mafia boss!bucky barnes

summary: you've spent weeks conning the boss of the brooklyn mafia, but when you're steps away from stealing the Blue Diamond of Alqualondë for your employer, you're caught by the boss's most trusted enforcer. then, things take a turn for the worse when you realize you weren't conning the mob boss—he was luring you into his trap.

warnings: mature content, eventual 18+ content (minors dni!!!), sexual tension (resolved in part 2), almost kiss, teasing touches, possessive touches, attempted sexual coercion, enemies to (eventual) lovers, bit of a cliffhanger ending

word count: 3.0k

a/n: i had an idea for @thezombieprostitute's Let's Plan A Heist challenge while i was working on my chef Jack Abbot fic but i didn't want to start it until i finished that fic. then by the time i got around to writing it, i realized the challenge was almost over. so! i've split what was supposed to be a one-shot into two parts, and this is the first part. part 1 is mostly setup/sexual tension while the next part will be mostly smut, and i'm going to work on it next, so it should be posted soon-ish! thank you Zombie for hosting such a fun challenge, and i hope everyone enjoys reading about our tricksy little thief!!

prompts used: mansion, party/celebration, you were hired, long con, solo, rival

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

In the life of a thief—the life you’d chosen, mostly willingly—it was important that nothing rattled you. You had to keep your cool in any situation you found yourself in, or else you could end up dead. It was a skill you’d honed over the years and it meant you could be held at gunpoint and not even break a sweat. 

But those words, said by that voice, sent a shiver of unease down your spine like nothing you’d ever felt before. A guilty grimace contorted your face before you could stop it, and you could only thank the universe that the man the voice belonged to was behind you, so he had no way of seeing it.

Taking a breath and reaching for the calmness that seemed to exist in endless reserves on all your other jobs, you steeled yourself. You schooled your features into an expression that was much more innocent before you turned around and faced the source of that voice.

Steve Rogers cut an intimidating figure, clad in a tailored suit that exquisitely highlighted his tall stature and broad shoulders. His narrow waist and thick, muscular thighs looked like a million bucks in a simple black suit with a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, giving you a tantalizing tease of all that golden skin he had under his clothes…

You nipped that thought right in the bud, focusing your gaze on Steve’s face—his stupidly handsome face—which was contorted into a cold, furious scowl. You couldn’t help but notice that even that expression looked good on him, and you had to force yourself to concentrate on the problem at hand.

Because the frown on Steve’s face wasn’t the one he typically wore in your presence. No, this particularly charming glower was because he’d discovered you in the secret, locked room in his boss’s Brooklyn mansion. The one that housed the mafia boss’s private collection of art, jewels, and other priceless valuables in a cramped maze that looked like an elegant version of a museum’s storage room.

It was a room that you absolutely, one hundred percent, shouldn’t be in. 

But not everything in that room was priceless. The Blue Diamond of Alqualondë would fetch your employer a cool $5.8 million on the black market. All you had to do was retrieve it, steal it away from the mansion and put it in your employer’s hands. Then you’d get the $1 million you were promised…and your debts would be forgiven. Finally.

Giving your head a subtle, impatient shake, you reminded yourself that you didn’t have time to ruminate on the mess you were in. It didn’t matter that you’d been forced to get close enough to a mafia boss to be invited to one of the exclusive parties at his mansion—or that you’d enjoyed your time with the Brooklyn mob boss more than you should’ved.

You had to focus on the problem in front of you. Namely the fiercely protective and extremely dangerous mafia enforcer standing between you and your freedom.

“Would you believe,” you began, sauntering toward Steve and putting a little extra sway in your hips. The gown you wore hugged your curves lovingly, a slit up the side offering teasing views of your bare thigh. It was meant to be a distraction of a dress and it was doing its job. “That I got lost while looking for the bathroom?”

A little zip of satisfaction shot straight down your spine when Steve’s cold, blue eyes dipped briefly to your body, raking quickly over your chest, your hips, your legs, like he couldn’t help himself. But the excitement you felt at getting the man’s attention fizzled when his gaze returned to your face, harder than before.

But you wouldn’t—couldn’t—be deterred. It was imperative that you distract Steve and get him out of the room so you could sneak back later and steal the Blue Diamond of Alqualondë from his boss’s collection. How exactly you’d do that when the enforcer who already didn’t trust you, would be on higher alert? That was a problem for later you.

All you could do was deal with one problem at a time. So you moved closer to the big, intimdating man and slunk into his personal space, placing a hand over the breast pocket of his jacket while you fluttered your lashes at him. 

“This place is just so big and confusing,” you murmured demurely, trying to play the role of damsel in distress while you surreptitiously searched his jacket for something, anything to help you get free. 

But aside from a couple guns in shoulder holsters, all you found were the hard muscles Steve hid beneath his tailored suit. You forced yourself to ignore the twist of attraction in your belly, the melting warmth that sang in your blood, and urged you to do something stupid, something too fucking reckless, even for you. 

It became easier when Steve’s lithe fingers wrapped around your wrist and he stopped your wandering hand in its tracks. He gave you a tight warning squeeze before letting his hands fall and stuffing them in his pockets, making a show of how little of a threat he thought you posed.

“From anyone else, I might believe that excuse,” Steve rumbled, staring down his nose at you. His eyes were like two chips of ice, sending even more cold anxiety down your spine, and it was only your years of practice that kept you from wilting under his angry stare. “But not from you, sweetheart.”

It disturbed you how much you liked hearing Steve call you by that pet name, even if his tone was dripping with disdain as he said it. In your head, you reached for the calm that typically came so easily when you were working a job, but you found it was rapidly depleting. 

There was something about Steve Rogers that left you feeling stripped bare and defenseless, and it took much more effort than usual to gather your charm and clever tactics around you like protective armor. Giving an indignant, offended huff of a laugh, you swatted Steve’s chest like you were old friends.

“You’re so mean to me, Stevie,” you whined in your sweetest, most ingratiating voice, batting your eyes at the scowling enforcer. “I’m just a little lost,” you said, pouting up at him with your most pathetic expression.

At the same time, you pressed closer, your tits brushing against his chest, sending sparks of pleasure rioting in your belly, your nipples tightening beneath the thin, slinky fabric of your dress. It took everything in you to hold back a shiver as desire ran rampant in your body, making you feel hot and achy.

“Cut the shit, sweetheart,” Steve snapped, his anger bleeding over into his tone in a way that made his voice hard and unrelenting. It got you thinking about other things of his that would feel hard and unrelenting and could help soothe the ache between your thighs…

“This room is kept locked, so try again,” Steve growled, leaning in until he was looming above you, using that stupid heigh to his advantage. 

However, the movement also pressed you closer to him, your tits brushing his chest and making your breath hitch as your nipples rubbed against him again. Steve’s eyes dropped to your tits, which were heaving in the low neckline of your dress, in danger of spilling out. 

A sound, like a choked off, hungry growl, rumbled in Steve’s chest, and the air in the room crackled with unresolved tension. It went straight to your head, that sound, and you could feel your brain melting a little at how much pure, undiluted lust was etched into Steve’s handsome face.

For a moment, between one breath and the next, you thought Steve Rogers might kiss you. You were already sagging in relief at the thought, your body sinking deeper into him, your hands pressed flat against the lapels of his jacket, ready to grab him and haul him even closer. 

You knew the kiss would be good. It would be devastating for the both of you, and your body lit up with the anticipation… but the kiss never came.

With a violent jerk of his head, Steve wrenched his gaze from your mouth, where he’d been staring at your lips like they were the answer to all his life’s problems, and he looked past your shoulder, deep into the maze of the room. He swallowed thickly, put some space between your bodies and finally looked back at you. 

When he did, his expression was guarded, and all the lust that had filled his face had been buried deep within the span of a few seconds. All that remained was the distrust that had haunted his blue eyes since you first appeared in his boss’s life. 

“Now, answer me, sweetheart,” Steve rumbled, his voice going infinitesimally softer on the pet name before he continued on. “What were you doing in here?”

The sudden shift in Steve’s mood was effective in waking you up from the lust spell you’d fallen into, and you realized you had one last card to play in an effort to get out of your disastrous situation. It was a long shot—Steve was so loyal to his boss, that it was unlikely he’d betray him for anything—but you had to try.

So you pressed your soft body more deliberately against the hard, unyielding bulk of Steve’s form, taking care to keep your wits about you as you danced your fingers along the line of his jacket. You let your fingertips trace the buttons of his white dress shirt, down to his abdomen, feeling the muscles of his stomach spasm at your touch. 

Steve’s face remained a stony, unforgiving mask as you teased your nails along the hem of his pants, toying with the leather of his belt. You sucked in a breath for courage, emboldened by the bulge brushing against your hip and looked at the handsome mafia enforcer from under your lashes.

“What’ll it take to make you leave and forget you ever saw me in here?” you asked silkily, pushing up onto your tiptoes so you could murmur in Steve’s ear, your breath ghosting tantalizingly against his bearded jaw. “I promise to make it worth your while, sir.” 

You were pressed so close to Steve that you felt his body go rigid at the honorific, his breath rushing out of him like you’d knocked the air out of his lungs. A pleased smirk teased the corners of your lips and you took his reaction as a sign to press your advantage, brushing your hand lower until your fingertips teased along the hard ridge of his cock in his pants.

But before you could cup his bulge through his clothes, Steve’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling it none too gently away from his lap. He yanked so hard on your arm that it put you off balance, and if it wasn’t for Steve’s other hand settling on your hip, his palm a possessive, heated touch, you might’ve tumbled back onto your ass.

“You’re delusional if you thought that would work on me, sweetheart,” Steve growled, the barest hint of teasing in the pet name as it rolled off his tongue.

A shiver skated down your spine, one you weren’t able to temper, and you felt more than saw Steve’s smirk. Using his grip on your wrist and your hip, he drew you closer, and—damn him—your stomach swooped when you felt the hard length of his cock press against your belly. 

It was all you could do to breathe normally and not pant over the hot mafia enforcer like a dog in heat. But that had its downsides, too, because Steve smelled good. Expensive cologne mixed with something dangerous, like gunpowder, and god help you, but you thought you could get high off his scent. 

You were so close to huffing Steve’s scent like a desperate hussy when his hand around your wrist squeezed, making you blink the lust from your gaze and look up at him. A smirk teased around the edges of his mouth and he looked so fucking devastatingly handsome, you wanted to kick him—or kiss him. 

“Tell me what you were doing in here,” Steve rumbled, looming over you once more in a clear attempt to intimidate you into answering. “And who you’re working for. Be honest, be honest—if you’re honest, we might go easy on you.”

At the reference to your employer, your spine went ramrod straight, and panic flooded your mind. You were so distracted by the thought of who’d hired you that you didn’t notice the way Steve’s eyes flicked briefly over your shoulder. Nor did you notice his use of “we” when it was only him in the room. 

As far as you were aware at least.

In the life of a thief, these were the kinds of rookie mistakes that could get you caught, could get you killed. Unfortunately for you, you were too scared of your employer and too off-balance by the closeness of the mafia enforcer, to even realize you’d made such amateur errors. 

You thought you were still in control of the situation, so you huffed an indignant sound and tossed your head, giving the appearance that you were offended by Steve’s words and the implied accusation. 

Tipping your head back, you managed to look down your nose at the taller man as you scrambled for another way out of the room so you could return later for the diamond you’d been hired to steal. It took only a moment for your clever mind to come up with something, even if it wasn’t your best work.

“Your boss told me to meet him here,” you said, latching onto the first excuse you could think of that you hadn’t tried already. It didn’t matter, in your mind, that it probably wouldn’t work. It had to work because you couldn’t disappoint your employer. It wasn’t an option. “He said he wanted to show me something, but I think he just wanted to get me alone.”

It felt stiff and fake, even to you, as you winked at Steve, but using his boss’s attraction to you was your last-ditch effort to get the enforcer to let you go. You just needed his grip to ease up long enough for him to check in with his boss so that you could use the distraction to escape. 

However, you hadn’t accounted for the universe—and the mafia boss and his most trusted enforcer—to be working so expertly against you. 

That time, you did notice when Steve’s gaze moved from your face to something over your shoulder, something deeper in the maze of the mansion’s secret room. Anxiety flooded your body and no matter how much you tried to remain calm, you could feel yourself beginning to panic.

“Is that right?” Steve asked, and despite all your instincts telling you that he wasn’t speaking to you, you opened your mouth to answer him. But he went on before you could. “Did you ask her to meet you here—did you give her your key?”

Your stomach was sinking down to your knees, which were in danger of wobbling as panic consumed your chest, making your heart hammer against your ribs like a bird trying to escape its cage. Your mouth was dry, and for once in your life, you were too stunned to speak. 

You could only watch in horror as Steve’s gaze—cold, blue and knowing—returned to your face, even as he continued speaking to someone else. You had a sneaking suspicion that you already knew who that someone else would turn out to be.

“Or did she pilfer it and sneak in here like the dirty little thief that she is?”

“That depends,” came a voice from behind you—one that was warm and filled with humor, even as it held a dangerous edge. One that you recognized.

It was the voice that belonged to the man of the house, the one you’d spent the past weeks cozying up to so you could steal from him. The one you’d secretly begun to like, along with his loyal enforcer, though that was a secret you planned to take to your grave. Unfortunately, it seemed tha might happen sooner rather than later.

“Does it count as stealing if I let her lift it off me so I could see what she’d do with it?”

Bucky Barnes sauntered into you line of view, shooting you a devastatingly charming grin that made you feel like your panties wanted to melt right off your body. You’d worked hard to ignore your attraction to the Brooklyn mafia boss, but in that moment, you couldn’t deny the way your body responded to him.

With his broad shoulders, bright eyes and towering stature, Bucky was one of the handsomest men you’d ever met. He was hot enough to give Steve a run for his money, and he had the charisma to wield those good looks like a dangerous weapon. You thought you’d been impervious to his hotness and his charms, but in that moment, you realized you weren’t.

Still, it wasn’t until Bucky slid in behind you, curving his big hands possessively around your waist, and caging you in between him and Steve that you realized just how much trouble you were in. Because the whole time you’d been thinking you were conning the head of the Brooklyn mafia and his right-hand man, they had clearly been three steps ahead of you. 

And now you were caught in their trap—literally. You were caught between their big, strong bodies, with nowhere to go and no tricks left up your sleeve. All you had left was to see what they’d do, and hope you could escape with your life, if not with the score that could save you from your employer’s wrath.

The life of a thief wasn’t for the weak, and it was a good thing you were made of stronger stuff than most. You just had to keep your head in the game and not get distracted by Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, and maybe, just maybe, you could still win your freedom.

But too bad for you, that might be easier said than done…

thank you for reading, part 2 is coming soon!! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! ♡♡♡

[epiphanyrogers]

omg i loved loved LOVED this!!! the chemistry you built between reader and steve had me absolutely biting my pinky the whole way through

AND THEN BUCKY JUST APPEARING AND RUINING READER’S LAST CHANCR OF GETTING OUT OF THERE….

like nobody come and save me i’m exactly where i want to be fr 😵‍💫

in particular these two bits had me giggling away ahhhhhh their chemistry is just so so SO good!!

“From anyone else, I might believe that excuse,” Steve rumbled, staring down his nose at you. His eyes were like two chips of ice, sending even more cold anxiety down your spine, and it was only your years of practice that kept you from wilting under his angry stare. “But not from you, sweetheart.”

“What’ll it take to make you leave and forget you ever saw me in here?” you asked silkily, pushing up onto your tiptoes so you could murmur in Steve’s ear, your breath ghosting tantalizingly against his bearded jaw. “I promise to make it worth your while, sir.” 

like him not falling for it but still being attracted to reader, and reader playing the game but also it isn’t really a game because her body is reacting to him anyway… oh yes 🫪🤤

this was absolutely scrumptious and i’m so excited for part two!! <33

[witchywithwhiskey]

ahh thank you so much!!! i really loved writing the dynamic between Steve and reader, and then adding Bucky into the mix was so FUN. sometimes writing the tension leading up to the smut is even more enjoyable than the actual smut 🤭

so glad you enjoyed! thank you for reading! ♡♡♡

[witchywithwhiskey]

the life of a thief ⟨part 1⟩

part 1 ⟡ part 2 (coming soon!)

pairing: mafia enforcer!steve rogers x female reader x mafia boss!bucky barnes

summary: you've spent weeks conning the boss of the brooklyn mafia, but when you're steps away from stealing the Blue Diamond of Alqualondë for your employer, you're caught by the boss's most trusted enforcer. then, things take a turn for the worse when you realize you weren't conning the mob boss—he was luring you into his trap.

warnings: mature content, eventual 18+ content (minors dni!!!), sexual tension (resolved in part 2), almost kiss, teasing touches, possessive touches, attempted sexual coercion, enemies to (eventual) lovers, bit of a cliffhanger ending

word count: 3.0k

a/n: i had an idea for @thezombieprostitute's Let's Plan A Heist challenge while i was working on my chef Jack Abbot fic but i didn't want to start it until i finished that fic. then by the time i got around to writing it, i realized the challenge was almost over. so! i've split what was supposed to be a one-shot into two parts, and this is the first part. part 1 is mostly setup/sexual tension while the next part will be mostly smut, and i'm going to work on it next, so it should be posted soon-ish! thank you Zombie for hosting such a fun challenge, and i hope everyone enjoys reading about our tricksy little thief!!

prompts used: mansion, party/celebration, you were hired, long con, solo, rival

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

In the life of a thief—the life you’d chosen, mostly willingly—it was important that nothing rattled you. You had to keep your cool in any situation you found yourself in, or else you could end up dead. It was a skill you’d honed over the years and it meant you could be held at gunpoint and not even break a sweat. 

But those words, said by that voice, sent a shiver of unease down your spine like nothing you’d ever felt before. A guilty grimace contorted your face before you could stop it, and you could only thank the universe that the man the voice belonged to was behind you, so he had no way of seeing it.

Taking a breath and reaching for the calmness that seemed to exist in endless reserves on all your other jobs, you steeled yourself. You schooled your features into an expression that was much more innocent before you turned around and faced the source of that voice.

Steve Rogers cut an intimidating figure, clad in a tailored suit that exquisitely highlighted his tall stature and broad shoulders. His narrow waist and thick, muscular thighs looked like a million bucks in a simple black suit with a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, giving you a tantalizing tease of all that golden skin he had under his clothes…

You nipped that thought right in the bud, focusing your gaze on Steve’s face—his stupidly handsome face—which was contorted into a cold, furious scowl. You couldn’t help but notice that even that expression looked good on him, and you had to force yourself to concentrate on the problem at hand.

Because the frown on Steve’s face wasn’t the one he typically wore in your presence. No, this particularly charming glower was because he’d discovered you in the secret, locked room in his boss’s Brooklyn mansion. The one that housed the mafia boss’s private collection of art, jewels, and other priceless valuables in a cramped maze that looked like an elegant version of a museum’s storage room.

It was a room that you absolutely, one hundred percent, shouldn’t be in. 

But not everything in that room was priceless. The Blue Diamond of Alqualondë would fetch your employer a cool $5.8 million on the black market. All you had to do was retrieve it, steal it away from the mansion and put it in your employer’s hands. Then you’d get the $1 million you were promised…and your debts would be forgiven. Finally.

Giving your head a subtle, impatient shake, you reminded yourself that you didn’t have time to ruminate on the mess you were in. It didn’t matter that you’d been forced to get close enough to a mafia boss to be invited to one of the exclusive parties at his mansion—or that you’d enjoyed your time with the Brooklyn mob boss more than you should’ved.

You had to focus on the problem in front of you. Namely the fiercely protective and extremely dangerous mafia enforcer standing between you and your freedom.

“Would you believe,” you began, sauntering toward Steve and putting a little extra sway in your hips. The gown you wore hugged your curves lovingly, a slit up the side offering teasing views of your bare thigh. It was meant to be a distraction of a dress and it was doing its job. “That I got lost while looking for the bathroom?”

A little zip of satisfaction shot straight down your spine when Steve’s cold, blue eyes dipped briefly to your body, raking quickly over your chest, your hips, your legs, like he couldn’t help himself. But the excitement you felt at getting the man’s attention fizzled when his gaze returned to your face, harder than before.

But you wouldn’t—couldn’t—be deterred. It was imperative that you distract Steve and get him out of the room so you could sneak back later and steal the Blue Diamond of Alqualondë from his boss’s collection. How exactly you’d do that when the enforcer who already didn’t trust you, would be on higher alert? That was a problem for later you.

All you could do was deal with one problem at a time. So you moved closer to the big, intimdating man and slunk into his personal space, placing a hand over the breast pocket of his jacket while you fluttered your lashes at him. 

“This place is just so big and confusing,” you murmured demurely, trying to play the role of damsel in distress while you surreptitiously searched his jacket for something, anything to help you get free. 

But aside from a couple guns in shoulder holsters, all you found were the hard muscles Steve hid beneath his tailored suit. You forced yourself to ignore the twist of attraction in your belly, the melting warmth that sang in your blood, and urged you to do something stupid, something too fucking reckless, even for you. 

It became easier when Steve’s lithe fingers wrapped around your wrist and he stopped your wandering hand in its tracks. He gave you a tight warning squeeze before letting his hands fall and stuffing them in his pockets, making a show of how little of a threat he thought you posed.

“From anyone else, I might believe that excuse,” Steve rumbled, staring down his nose at you. His eyes were like two chips of ice, sending even more cold anxiety down your spine, and it was only your years of practice that kept you from wilting under his angry stare. “But not from you, sweetheart.”

It disturbed you how much you liked hearing Steve call you by that pet name, even if his tone was dripping with disdain as he said it. In your head, you reached for the calm that typically came so easily when you were working a job, but you found it was rapidly depleting. 

There was something about Steve Rogers that left you feeling stripped bare and defenseless, and it took much more effort than usual to gather your charm and clever tactics around you like protective armor. Giving an indignant, offended huff of a laugh, you swatted Steve’s chest like you were old friends.

“You’re so mean to me, Stevie,” you whined in your sweetest, most ingratiating voice, batting your eyes at the scowling enforcer. “I’m just a little lost,” you said, pouting up at him with your most pathetic expression.

At the same time, you pressed closer, your tits brushing against his chest, sending sparks of pleasure rioting in your belly, your nipples tightening beneath the thin, slinky fabric of your dress. It took everything in you to hold back a shiver as desire ran rampant in your body, making you feel hot and achy.

“Cut the shit, sweetheart,” Steve snapped, his anger bleeding over into his tone in a way that made his voice hard and unrelenting. It got you thinking about other things of his that would feel hard and unrelenting and could help soothe the ache between your thighs…

“This room is kept locked, so try again,” Steve growled, leaning in until he was looming above you, using that stupid heigh to his advantage. 

However, the movement also pressed you closer to him, your tits brushing his chest and making your breath hitch as your nipples rubbed against him again. Steve’s eyes dropped to your tits, which were heaving in the low neckline of your dress, in danger of spilling out. 

A sound, like a choked off, hungry growl, rumbled in Steve’s chest, and the air in the room crackled with unresolved tension. It went straight to your head, that sound, and you could feel your brain melting a little at how much pure, undiluted lust was etched into Steve’s handsome face.

For a moment, between one breath and the next, you thought Steve Rogers might kiss you. You were already sagging in relief at the thought, your body sinking deeper into him, your hands pressed flat against the lapels of his jacket, ready to grab him and haul him even closer. 

You knew the kiss would be good. It would be devastating for the both of you, and your body lit up with the anticipation… but the kiss never came.

With a violent jerk of his head, Steve wrenched his gaze from your mouth, where he’d been staring at your lips like they were the answer to all his life’s problems, and he looked past your shoulder, deep into the maze of the room. He swallowed thickly, put some space between your bodies and finally looked back at you. 

When he did, his expression was guarded, and all the lust that had filled his face had been buried deep within the span of a few seconds. All that remained was the distrust that had haunted his blue eyes since you first appeared in his boss’s life. 

“Now, answer me, sweetheart,” Steve rumbled, his voice going infinitesimally softer on the pet name before he continued on. “What were you doing in here?”

The sudden shift in Steve’s mood was effective in waking you up from the lust spell you’d fallen into, and you realized you had one last card to play in an effort to get out of your disastrous situation. It was a long shot—Steve was so loyal to his boss, that it was unlikely he’d betray him for anything—but you had to try.

So you pressed your soft body more deliberately against the hard, unyielding bulk of Steve’s form, taking care to keep your wits about you as you danced your fingers along the line of his jacket. You let your fingertips trace the buttons of his white dress shirt, down to his abdomen, feeling the muscles of his stomach spasm at your touch. 

Steve’s face remained a stony, unforgiving mask as you teased your nails along the hem of his pants, toying with the leather of his belt. You sucked in a breath for courage, emboldened by the bulge brushing against your hip and looked at the handsome mafia enforcer from under your lashes.

“What’ll it take to make you leave and forget you ever saw me in here?” you asked silkily, pushing up onto your tiptoes so you could murmur in Steve’s ear, your breath ghosting tantalizingly against his bearded jaw. “I promise to make it worth your while, sir.” 

You were pressed so close to Steve that you felt his body go rigid at the honorific, his breath rushing out of him like you’d knocked the air out of his lungs. A pleased smirk teased the corners of your lips and you took his reaction as a sign to press your advantage, brushing your hand lower until your fingertips teased along the hard ridge of his cock in his pants.

But before you could cup his bulge through his clothes, Steve’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling it none too gently away from his lap. He yanked so hard on your arm that it put you off balance, and if it wasn’t for Steve’s other hand settling on your hip, his palm a possessive, heated touch, you might’ve tumbled back onto your ass.

“You’re delusional if you thought that would work on me, sweetheart,” Steve growled, the barest hint of teasing in the pet name as it rolled off his tongue.

A shiver skated down your spine, one you weren’t able to temper, and you felt more than saw Steve’s smirk. Using his grip on your wrist and your hip, he drew you closer, and—damn him—your stomach swooped when you felt the hard length of his cock press against your belly. 

It was all you could do to breathe normally and not pant over the hot mafia enforcer like a dog in heat. But that had its downsides, too, because Steve smelled good. Expensive cologne mixed with something dangerous, like gunpowder, and god help you, but you thought you could get high off his scent. 

You were so close to huffing Steve’s scent like a desperate hussy when his hand around your wrist squeezed, making you blink the lust from your gaze and look up at him. A smirk teased around the edges of his mouth and he looked so fucking devastatingly handsome, you wanted to kick him—or kiss him. 

“Tell me what you were doing in here,” Steve rumbled, looming over you once more in a clear attempt to intimidate you into answering. “And who you’re working for. Be honest, be honest—if you’re honest, we might go easy on you.”

At the reference to your employer, your spine went ramrod straight, and panic flooded your mind. You were so distracted by the thought of who’d hired you that you didn’t notice the way Steve’s eyes flicked briefly over your shoulder. Nor did you notice his use of “we” when it was only him in the room. 

As far as you were aware at least.

In the life of a thief, these were the kinds of rookie mistakes that could get you caught, could get you killed. Unfortunately for you, you were too scared of your employer and too off-balance by the closeness of the mafia enforcer, to even realize you’d made such amateur errors. 

You thought you were still in control of the situation, so you huffed an indignant sound and tossed your head, giving the appearance that you were offended by Steve’s words and the implied accusation. 

Tipping your head back, you managed to look down your nose at the taller man as you scrambled for another way out of the room so you could return later for the diamond you’d been hired to steal. It took only a moment for your clever mind to come up with something, even if it wasn’t your best work.

“Your boss told me to meet him here,” you said, latching onto the first excuse you could think of that you hadn’t tried already. It didn’t matter, in your mind, that it probably wouldn’t work. It had to work because you couldn’t disappoint your employer. It wasn’t an option. “He said he wanted to show me something, but I think he just wanted to get me alone.”

It felt stiff and fake, even to you, as you winked at Steve, but using his boss’s attraction to you was your last-ditch effort to get the enforcer to let you go. You just needed his grip to ease up long enough for him to check in with his boss so that you could use the distraction to escape. 

However, you hadn’t accounted for the universe—and the mafia boss and his most trusted enforcer—to be working so expertly against you. 

That time, you did notice when Steve’s gaze moved from your face to something over your shoulder, something deeper in the maze of the mansion’s secret room. Anxiety flooded your body and no matter how much you tried to remain calm, you could feel yourself beginning to panic.

“Is that right?” Steve asked, and despite all your instincts telling you that he wasn’t speaking to you, you opened your mouth to answer him. But he went on before you could. “Did you ask her to meet you here—did you give her your key?”

Your stomach was sinking down to your knees, which were in danger of wobbling as panic consumed your chest, making your heart hammer against your ribs like a bird trying to escape its cage. Your mouth was dry, and for once in your life, you were too stunned to speak. 

You could only watch in horror as Steve’s gaze—cold, blue and knowing—returned to your face, even as he continued speaking to someone else. You had a sneaking suspicion that you already knew who that someone else would turn out to be.

“Or did she pilfer it and sneak in here like the dirty little thief that she is?”

“That depends,” came a voice from behind you—one that was warm and filled with humor, even as it held a dangerous edge. One that you recognized.

It was the voice that belonged to the man of the house, the one you’d spent the past weeks cozying up to so you could steal from him. The one you’d secretly begun to like, along with his loyal enforcer, though that was a secret you planned to take to your grave. Unfortunately, it seemed tha might happen sooner rather than later.

“Does it count as stealing if I let her lift it off me so I could see what she’d do with it?”

Bucky Barnes sauntered into you line of view, shooting you a devastatingly charming grin that made you feel like your panties wanted to melt right off your body. You’d worked hard to ignore your attraction to the Brooklyn mafia boss, but in that moment, you couldn’t deny the way your body responded to him.

With his broad shoulders, bright eyes and towering stature, Bucky was one of the handsomest men you’d ever met. He was hot enough to give Steve a run for his money, and he had the charisma to wield those good looks like a dangerous weapon. You thought you’d been impervious to his hotness and his charms, but in that moment, you realized you weren’t.

Still, it wasn’t until Bucky slid in behind you, curving his big hands possessively around your waist, and caging you in between him and Steve that you realized just how much trouble you were in. Because the whole time you’d been thinking you were conning the head of the Brooklyn mafia and his right-hand man, they had clearly been three steps ahead of you. 

And now you were caught in their trap—literally. You were caught between their big, strong bodies, with nowhere to go and no tricks left up your sleeve. All you had left was to see what they’d do, and hope you could escape with your life, if not with the score that could save you from your employer’s wrath.

The life of a thief wasn’t for the weak, and it was a good thing you were made of stronger stuff than most. You just had to keep your head in the game and not get distracted by Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, and maybe, just maybe, you could still win your freedom.

But too bad for you, that might be easier said than done…

thank you for reading, part 2 is coming soon!! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! ♡♡♡

[biteofcherry]

Would Steve believe I sneaked in hoping he would find me and get all handsy with me? And use that growly, mean voice? 🤭

Ahh, but I actually love how scarily smart and two steps ahead Bucky and Steve are. Intelligent men, who have hard dicks but don't think with them are so hot 🥵

And now we're trapped between a hard and a hard place...

[witchywithwhiskey]

hahah i don't think Steve would believe that, but i'm sure you'd have fun riling him up some more 😈 and yes! what i love about this mafia Bucky and Steve is that they're just so competent—much more competent than reader gave them credit for, but it all works out in the end 🤭

thank you for reading, Eva!! ♡♡♡

[witchywithwhiskey]

the life of a thief ⟨part 1⟩

part 1 ⟡ part 2 (coming soon!)

pairing: mafia enforcer!steve rogers x female reader x mafia boss!bucky barnes

summary: you've spent weeks conning the boss of the brooklyn mafia, but when you're steps away from stealing the Blue Diamond of Alqualondë for your employer, you're caught by the boss's most trusted enforcer. then, things take a turn for the worse when you realize you weren't conning the mob boss—he was luring you into his trap.

warnings: mature content, eventual 18+ content (minors dni!!!), sexual tension (resolved in part 2), almost kiss, teasing touches, possessive touches, attempted sexual coercion, enemies to (eventual) lovers, bit of a cliffhanger ending

word count: 3.0k

a/n: i had an idea for @thezombieprostitute's Let's Plan A Heist challenge while i was working on my chef Jack Abbot fic but i didn't want to start it until i finished that fic. then by the time i got around to writing it, i realized the challenge was almost over. so! i've split what was supposed to be a one-shot into two parts, and this is the first part. part 1 is mostly setup/sexual tension while the next part will be mostly smut, and i'm going to work on it next, so it should be posted soon-ish! thank you Zombie for hosting such a fun challenge, and i hope everyone enjoys reading about our tricksy little thief!!

prompts used: mansion, party/celebration, you were hired, long con, solo, rival

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

In the life of a thief—the life you’d chosen, mostly willingly—it was important that nothing rattled you. You had to keep your cool in any situation you found yourself in, or else you could end up dead. It was a skill you’d honed over the years and it meant you could be held at gunpoint and not even break a sweat. 

But those words, said by that voice, sent a shiver of unease down your spine like nothing you’d ever felt before. A guilty grimace contorted your face before you could stop it, and you could only thank the universe that the man the voice belonged to was behind you, so he had no way of seeing it.

Taking a breath and reaching for the calmness that seemed to exist in endless reserves on all your other jobs, you steeled yourself. You schooled your features into an expression that was much more innocent before you turned around and faced the source of that voice.

Steve Rogers cut an intimidating figure, clad in a tailored suit that exquisitely highlighted his tall stature and broad shoulders. His narrow waist and thick, muscular thighs looked like a million bucks in a simple black suit with a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, giving you a tantalizing tease of all that golden skin he had under his clothes…

You nipped that thought right in the bud, focusing your gaze on Steve’s face—his stupidly handsome face—which was contorted into a cold, furious scowl. You couldn’t help but notice that even that expression looked good on him, and you had to force yourself to concentrate on the problem at hand.

Because the frown on Steve’s face wasn’t the one he typically wore in your presence. No, this particularly charming glower was because he’d discovered you in the secret, locked room in his boss’s Brooklyn mansion. The one that housed the mafia boss’s private collection of art, jewels, and other priceless valuables in a cramped maze that looked like an elegant version of a museum’s storage room.

It was a room that you absolutely, one hundred percent, shouldn’t be in. 

But not everything in that room was priceless. The Blue Diamond of Alqualondë would fetch your employer a cool $5.8 million on the black market. All you had to do was retrieve it, steal it away from the mansion and put it in your employer’s hands. Then you’d get the $1 million you were promised…and your debts would be forgiven. Finally.

Giving your head a subtle, impatient shake, you reminded yourself that you didn’t have time to ruminate on the mess you were in. It didn’t matter that you’d been forced to get close enough to a mafia boss to be invited to one of the exclusive parties at his mansion—or that you’d enjoyed your time with the Brooklyn mob boss more than you should’ved.

You had to focus on the problem in front of you. Namely the fiercely protective and extremely dangerous mafia enforcer standing between you and your freedom.

“Would you believe,” you began, sauntering toward Steve and putting a little extra sway in your hips. The gown you wore hugged your curves lovingly, a slit up the side offering teasing views of your bare thigh. It was meant to be a distraction of a dress and it was doing its job. “That I got lost while looking for the bathroom?”

A little zip of satisfaction shot straight down your spine when Steve’s cold, blue eyes dipped briefly to your body, raking quickly over your chest, your hips, your legs, like he couldn’t help himself. But the excitement you felt at getting the man’s attention fizzled when his gaze returned to your face, harder than before.

But you wouldn’t—couldn’t—be deterred. It was imperative that you distract Steve and get him out of the room so you could sneak back later and steal the Blue Diamond of Alqualondë from his boss’s collection. How exactly you’d do that when the enforcer who already didn’t trust you, would be on higher alert? That was a problem for later you.

All you could do was deal with one problem at a time. So you moved closer to the big, intimdating man and slunk into his personal space, placing a hand over the breast pocket of his jacket while you fluttered your lashes at him. 

“This place is just so big and confusing,” you murmured demurely, trying to play the role of damsel in distress while you surreptitiously searched his jacket for something, anything to help you get free. 

But aside from a couple guns in shoulder holsters, all you found were the hard muscles Steve hid beneath his tailored suit. You forced yourself to ignore the twist of attraction in your belly, the melting warmth that sang in your blood, and urged you to do something stupid, something too fucking reckless, even for you. 

It became easier when Steve’s lithe fingers wrapped around your wrist and he stopped your wandering hand in its tracks. He gave you a tight warning squeeze before letting his hands fall and stuffing them in his pockets, making a show of how little of a threat he thought you posed.

“From anyone else, I might believe that excuse,” Steve rumbled, staring down his nose at you. His eyes were like two chips of ice, sending even more cold anxiety down your spine, and it was only your years of practice that kept you from wilting under his angry stare. “But not from you, sweetheart.”

It disturbed you how much you liked hearing Steve call you by that pet name, even if his tone was dripping with disdain as he said it. In your head, you reached for the calm that typically came so easily when you were working a job, but you found it was rapidly depleting. 

There was something about Steve Rogers that left you feeling stripped bare and defenseless, and it took much more effort than usual to gather your charm and clever tactics around you like protective armor. Giving an indignant, offended huff of a laugh, you swatted Steve’s chest like you were old friends.

“You’re so mean to me, Stevie,” you whined in your sweetest, most ingratiating voice, batting your eyes at the scowling enforcer. “I’m just a little lost,” you said, pouting up at him with your most pathetic expression.

At the same time, you pressed closer, your tits brushing against his chest, sending sparks of pleasure rioting in your belly, your nipples tightening beneath the thin, slinky fabric of your dress. It took everything in you to hold back a shiver as desire ran rampant in your body, making you feel hot and achy.

“Cut the shit, sweetheart,” Steve snapped, his anger bleeding over into his tone in a way that made his voice hard and unrelenting. It got you thinking about other things of his that would feel hard and unrelenting and could help soothe the ache between your thighs…

“This room is kept locked, so try again,” Steve growled, leaning in until he was looming above you, using that stupid heigh to his advantage. 

However, the movement also pressed you closer to him, your tits brushing his chest and making your breath hitch as your nipples rubbed against him again. Steve’s eyes dropped to your tits, which were heaving in the low neckline of your dress, in danger of spilling out. 

A sound, like a choked off, hungry growl, rumbled in Steve’s chest, and the air in the room crackled with unresolved tension. It went straight to your head, that sound, and you could feel your brain melting a little at how much pure, undiluted lust was etched into Steve’s handsome face.

For a moment, between one breath and the next, you thought Steve Rogers might kiss you. You were already sagging in relief at the thought, your body sinking deeper into him, your hands pressed flat against the lapels of his jacket, ready to grab him and haul him even closer. 

You knew the kiss would be good. It would be devastating for the both of you, and your body lit up with the anticipation… but the kiss never came.

With a violent jerk of his head, Steve wrenched his gaze from your mouth, where he’d been staring at your lips like they were the answer to all his life’s problems, and he looked past your shoulder, deep into the maze of the room. He swallowed thickly, put some space between your bodies and finally looked back at you. 

When he did, his expression was guarded, and all the lust that had filled his face had been buried deep within the span of a few seconds. All that remained was the distrust that had haunted his blue eyes since you first appeared in his boss’s life. 

“Now, answer me, sweetheart,” Steve rumbled, his voice going infinitesimally softer on the pet name before he continued on. “What were you doing in here?”

The sudden shift in Steve’s mood was effective in waking you up from the lust spell you’d fallen into, and you realized you had one last card to play in an effort to get out of your disastrous situation. It was a long shot—Steve was so loyal to his boss, that it was unlikely he’d betray him for anything—but you had to try.

So you pressed your soft body more deliberately against the hard, unyielding bulk of Steve’s form, taking care to keep your wits about you as you danced your fingers along the line of his jacket. You let your fingertips trace the buttons of his white dress shirt, down to his abdomen, feeling the muscles of his stomach spasm at your touch. 

Steve’s face remained a stony, unforgiving mask as you teased your nails along the hem of his pants, toying with the leather of his belt. You sucked in a breath for courage, emboldened by the bulge brushing against your hip and looked at the handsome mafia enforcer from under your lashes.

“What’ll it take to make you leave and forget you ever saw me in here?” you asked silkily, pushing up onto your tiptoes so you could murmur in Steve’s ear, your breath ghosting tantalizingly against his bearded jaw. “I promise to make it worth your while, sir.” 

You were pressed so close to Steve that you felt his body go rigid at the honorific, his breath rushing out of him like you’d knocked the air out of his lungs. A pleased smirk teased the corners of your lips and you took his reaction as a sign to press your advantage, brushing your hand lower until your fingertips teased along the hard ridge of his cock in his pants.

But before you could cup his bulge through his clothes, Steve’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling it none too gently away from his lap. He yanked so hard on your arm that it put you off balance, and if it wasn’t for Steve’s other hand settling on your hip, his palm a possessive, heated touch, you might’ve tumbled back onto your ass.

“You’re delusional if you thought that would work on me, sweetheart,” Steve growled, the barest hint of teasing in the pet name as it rolled off his tongue.

A shiver skated down your spine, one you weren’t able to temper, and you felt more than saw Steve’s smirk. Using his grip on your wrist and your hip, he drew you closer, and—damn him—your stomach swooped when you felt the hard length of his cock press against your belly. 

It was all you could do to breathe normally and not pant over the hot mafia enforcer like a dog in heat. But that had its downsides, too, because Steve smelled good. Expensive cologne mixed with something dangerous, like gunpowder, and god help you, but you thought you could get high off his scent. 

You were so close to huffing Steve’s scent like a desperate hussy when his hand around your wrist squeezed, making you blink the lust from your gaze and look up at him. A smirk teased around the edges of his mouth and he looked so fucking devastatingly handsome, you wanted to kick him—or kiss him. 

“Tell me what you were doing in here,” Steve rumbled, looming over you once more in a clear attempt to intimidate you into answering. “And who you’re working for. Be honest, be honest—if you’re honest, we might go easy on you.”

At the reference to your employer, your spine went ramrod straight, and panic flooded your mind. You were so distracted by the thought of who’d hired you that you didn’t notice the way Steve’s eyes flicked briefly over your shoulder. Nor did you notice his use of “we” when it was only him in the room. 

As far as you were aware at least.

In the life of a thief, these were the kinds of rookie mistakes that could get you caught, could get you killed. Unfortunately for you, you were too scared of your employer and too off-balance by the closeness of the mafia enforcer, to even realize you’d made such amateur errors. 

You thought you were still in control of the situation, so you huffed an indignant sound and tossed your head, giving the appearance that you were offended by Steve’s words and the implied accusation. 

Tipping your head back, you managed to look down your nose at the taller man as you scrambled for another way out of the room so you could return later for the diamond you’d been hired to steal. It took only a moment for your clever mind to come up with something, even if it wasn’t your best work.

“Your boss told me to meet him here,” you said, latching onto the first excuse you could think of that you hadn’t tried already. It didn’t matter, in your mind, that it probably wouldn’t work. It had to work because you couldn’t disappoint your employer. It wasn’t an option. “He said he wanted to show me something, but I think he just wanted to get me alone.”

It felt stiff and fake, even to you, as you winked at Steve, but using his boss’s attraction to you was your last-ditch effort to get the enforcer to let you go. You just needed his grip to ease up long enough for him to check in with his boss so that you could use the distraction to escape. 

However, you hadn’t accounted for the universe—and the mafia boss and his most trusted enforcer—to be working so expertly against you. 

That time, you did notice when Steve’s gaze moved from your face to something over your shoulder, something deeper in the maze of the mansion’s secret room. Anxiety flooded your body and no matter how much you tried to remain calm, you could feel yourself beginning to panic.

“Is that right?” Steve asked, and despite all your instincts telling you that he wasn’t speaking to you, you opened your mouth to answer him. But he went on before you could. “Did you ask her to meet you here—did you give her your key?”

Your stomach was sinking down to your knees, which were in danger of wobbling as panic consumed your chest, making your heart hammer against your ribs like a bird trying to escape its cage. Your mouth was dry, and for once in your life, you were too stunned to speak. 

You could only watch in horror as Steve’s gaze—cold, blue and knowing—returned to your face, even as he continued speaking to someone else. You had a sneaking suspicion that you already knew who that someone else would turn out to be.

“Or did she pilfer it and sneak in here like the dirty little thief that she is?”

“That depends,” came a voice from behind you—one that was warm and filled with humor, even as it held a dangerous edge. One that you recognized.

It was the voice that belonged to the man of the house, the one you’d spent the past weeks cozying up to so you could steal from him. The one you’d secretly begun to like, along with his loyal enforcer, though that was a secret you planned to take to your grave. Unfortunately, it seemed tha might happen sooner rather than later.

“Does it count as stealing if I let her lift it off me so I could see what she’d do with it?”

Bucky Barnes sauntered into you line of view, shooting you a devastatingly charming grin that made you feel like your panties wanted to melt right off your body. You’d worked hard to ignore your attraction to the Brooklyn mafia boss, but in that moment, you couldn’t deny the way your body responded to him.

With his broad shoulders, bright eyes and towering stature, Bucky was one of the handsomest men you’d ever met. He was hot enough to give Steve a run for his money, and he had the charisma to wield those good looks like a dangerous weapon. You thought you’d been impervious to his hotness and his charms, but in that moment, you realized you weren’t.

Still, it wasn’t until Bucky slid in behind you, curving his big hands possessively around your waist, and caging you in between him and Steve that you realized just how much trouble you were in. Because the whole time you’d been thinking you were conning the head of the Brooklyn mafia and his right-hand man, they had clearly been three steps ahead of you. 

And now you were caught in their trap—literally. You were caught between their big, strong bodies, with nowhere to go and no tricks left up your sleeve. All you had left was to see what they’d do, and hope you could escape with your life, if not with the score that could save you from your employer’s wrath.

The life of a thief wasn’t for the weak, and it was a good thing you were made of stronger stuff than most. You just had to keep your head in the game and not get distracted by Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, and maybe, just maybe, you could still win your freedom.

But too bad for you, that might be easier said than done…

thank you for reading, part 2 is coming soon!! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! ♡♡♡

[asreadbyaj]

The way I would’ve fake passed out so hard once Bucky came up behind her 😭

Just a sack of potatoes dropping so quickly that they’d better catch me before I bump my head and claim to have amnesia or before I end up on my knees for….other reasons 🤭😏

[witchywithwhiskey]

🤣 y'know i'm not sure either trick would work on Bucky or Steve, but they'd respect the effort hahah

thank you for reading!! ♡♡♡

[witchywithwhiskey]

the life of a thief ⟨part 1⟩

part 1 ⟡ part 2 (coming soon!)

pairing: mafia enforcer!steve rogers x female reader x mafia boss!bucky barnes

summary: you've spent weeks conning the boss of the brooklyn mafia, but when you're steps away from stealing the Blue Diamond of Alqualondë for your employer, you're caught by the boss's most trusted enforcer. then, things take a turn for the worse when you realize you weren't conning the mob boss—he was luring you into his trap.

warnings: mature content, eventual 18+ content (minors dni!!!), sexual tension (resolved in part 2), almost kiss, teasing touches, possessive touches, attempted sexual coercion, enemies to (eventual) lovers, bit of a cliffhanger ending

word count: 3.0k

a/n: i had an idea for @thezombieprostitute's Let's Plan A Heist challenge while i was working on my chef Jack Abbot fic but i didn't want to start it until i finished that fic. then by the time i got around to writing it, i realized the challenge was almost over. so! i've split what was supposed to be a one-shot into two parts, and this is the first part. part 1 is mostly setup/sexual tension while the next part will be mostly smut, and i'm going to work on it next, so it should be posted soon-ish! thank you Zombie for hosting such a fun challenge, and i hope everyone enjoys reading about our tricksy little thief!!

prompts used: mansion, party/celebration, you were hired, long con, solo, rival

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

In the life of a thief—the life you’d chosen, mostly willingly—it was important that nothing rattled you. You had to keep your cool in any situation you found yourself in, or else you could end up dead. It was a skill you’d honed over the years and it meant you could be held at gunpoint and not even break a sweat. 

But those words, said by that voice, sent a shiver of unease down your spine like nothing you’d ever felt before. A guilty grimace contorted your face before you could stop it, and you could only thank the universe that the man the voice belonged to was behind you, so he had no way of seeing it.

Taking a breath and reaching for the calmness that seemed to exist in endless reserves on all your other jobs, you steeled yourself. You schooled your features into an expression that was much more innocent before you turned around and faced the source of that voice.

Steve Rogers cut an intimidating figure, clad in a tailored suit that exquisitely highlighted his tall stature and broad shoulders. His narrow waist and thick, muscular thighs looked like a million bucks in a simple black suit with a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, giving you a tantalizing tease of all that golden skin he had under his clothes…

You nipped that thought right in the bud, focusing your gaze on Steve’s face—his stupidly handsome face—which was contorted into a cold, furious scowl. You couldn’t help but notice that even that expression looked good on him, and you had to force yourself to concentrate on the problem at hand.

Because the frown on Steve’s face wasn’t the one he typically wore in your presence. No, this particularly charming glower was because he’d discovered you in the secret, locked room in his boss’s Brooklyn mansion. The one that housed the mafia boss’s private collection of art, jewels, and other priceless valuables in a cramped maze that looked like an elegant version of a museum’s storage room.

It was a room that you absolutely, one hundred percent, shouldn’t be in. 

But not everything in that room was priceless. The Blue Diamond of Alqualondë would fetch your employer a cool $5.8 million on the black market. All you had to do was retrieve it, steal it away from the mansion and put it in your employer’s hands. Then you’d get the $1 million you were promised…and your debts would be forgiven. Finally.

Giving your head a subtle, impatient shake, you reminded yourself that you didn’t have time to ruminate on the mess you were in. It didn’t matter that you’d been forced to get close enough to a mafia boss to be invited to one of the exclusive parties at his mansion—or that you’d enjoyed your time with the Brooklyn mob boss more than you should’ved.

You had to focus on the problem in front of you. Namely the fiercely protective and extremely dangerous mafia enforcer standing between you and your freedom.

“Would you believe,” you began, sauntering toward Steve and putting a little extra sway in your hips. The gown you wore hugged your curves lovingly, a slit up the side offering teasing views of your bare thigh. It was meant to be a distraction of a dress and it was doing its job. “That I got lost while looking for the bathroom?”

A little zip of satisfaction shot straight down your spine when Steve’s cold, blue eyes dipped briefly to your body, raking quickly over your chest, your hips, your legs, like he couldn’t help himself. But the excitement you felt at getting the man’s attention fizzled when his gaze returned to your face, harder than before.

But you wouldn’t—couldn’t—be deterred. It was imperative that you distract Steve and get him out of the room so you could sneak back later and steal the Blue Diamond of Alqualondë from his boss’s collection. How exactly you’d do that when the enforcer who already didn’t trust you, would be on higher alert? That was a problem for later you.

All you could do was deal with one problem at a time. So you moved closer to the big, intimdating man and slunk into his personal space, placing a hand over the breast pocket of his jacket while you fluttered your lashes at him. 

“This place is just so big and confusing,” you murmured demurely, trying to play the role of damsel in distress while you surreptitiously searched his jacket for something, anything to help you get free. 

But aside from a couple guns in shoulder holsters, all you found were the hard muscles Steve hid beneath his tailored suit. You forced yourself to ignore the twist of attraction in your belly, the melting warmth that sang in your blood, and urged you to do something stupid, something too fucking reckless, even for you. 

It became easier when Steve’s lithe fingers wrapped around your wrist and he stopped your wandering hand in its tracks. He gave you a tight warning squeeze before letting his hands fall and stuffing them in his pockets, making a show of how little of a threat he thought you posed.

“From anyone else, I might believe that excuse,” Steve rumbled, staring down his nose at you. His eyes were like two chips of ice, sending even more cold anxiety down your spine, and it was only your years of practice that kept you from wilting under his angry stare. “But not from you, sweetheart.”

It disturbed you how much you liked hearing Steve call you by that pet name, even if his tone was dripping with disdain as he said it. In your head, you reached for the calm that typically came so easily when you were working a job, but you found it was rapidly depleting. 

There was something about Steve Rogers that left you feeling stripped bare and defenseless, and it took much more effort than usual to gather your charm and clever tactics around you like protective armor. Giving an indignant, offended huff of a laugh, you swatted Steve’s chest like you were old friends.

“You’re so mean to me, Stevie,” you whined in your sweetest, most ingratiating voice, batting your eyes at the scowling enforcer. “I’m just a little lost,” you said, pouting up at him with your most pathetic expression.

At the same time, you pressed closer, your tits brushing against his chest, sending sparks of pleasure rioting in your belly, your nipples tightening beneath the thin, slinky fabric of your dress. It took everything in you to hold back a shiver as desire ran rampant in your body, making you feel hot and achy.

“Cut the shit, sweetheart,” Steve snapped, his anger bleeding over into his tone in a way that made his voice hard and unrelenting. It got you thinking about other things of his that would feel hard and unrelenting and could help soothe the ache between your thighs…

“This room is kept locked, so try again,” Steve growled, leaning in until he was looming above you, using that stupid heigh to his advantage. 

However, the movement also pressed you closer to him, your tits brushing his chest and making your breath hitch as your nipples rubbed against him again. Steve’s eyes dropped to your tits, which were heaving in the low neckline of your dress, in danger of spilling out. 

A sound, like a choked off, hungry growl, rumbled in Steve’s chest, and the air in the room crackled with unresolved tension. It went straight to your head, that sound, and you could feel your brain melting a little at how much pure, undiluted lust was etched into Steve’s handsome face.

For a moment, between one breath and the next, you thought Steve Rogers might kiss you. You were already sagging in relief at the thought, your body sinking deeper into him, your hands pressed flat against the lapels of his jacket, ready to grab him and haul him even closer. 

You knew the kiss would be good. It would be devastating for the both of you, and your body lit up with the anticipation… but the kiss never came.

With a violent jerk of his head, Steve wrenched his gaze from your mouth, where he’d been staring at your lips like they were the answer to all his life’s problems, and he looked past your shoulder, deep into the maze of the room. He swallowed thickly, put some space between your bodies and finally looked back at you. 

When he did, his expression was guarded, and all the lust that had filled his face had been buried deep within the span of a few seconds. All that remained was the distrust that had haunted his blue eyes since you first appeared in his boss’s life. 

“Now, answer me, sweetheart,” Steve rumbled, his voice going infinitesimally softer on the pet name before he continued on. “What were you doing in here?”

The sudden shift in Steve’s mood was effective in waking you up from the lust spell you’d fallen into, and you realized you had one last card to play in an effort to get out of your disastrous situation. It was a long shot—Steve was so loyal to his boss, that it was unlikely he’d betray him for anything—but you had to try.

So you pressed your soft body more deliberately against the hard, unyielding bulk of Steve’s form, taking care to keep your wits about you as you danced your fingers along the line of his jacket. You let your fingertips trace the buttons of his white dress shirt, down to his abdomen, feeling the muscles of his stomach spasm at your touch. 

Steve’s face remained a stony, unforgiving mask as you teased your nails along the hem of his pants, toying with the leather of his belt. You sucked in a breath for courage, emboldened by the bulge brushing against your hip and looked at the handsome mafia enforcer from under your lashes.

“What’ll it take to make you leave and forget you ever saw me in here?” you asked silkily, pushing up onto your tiptoes so you could murmur in Steve’s ear, your breath ghosting tantalizingly against his bearded jaw. “I promise to make it worth your while, sir.” 

You were pressed so close to Steve that you felt his body go rigid at the honorific, his breath rushing out of him like you’d knocked the air out of his lungs. A pleased smirk teased the corners of your lips and you took his reaction as a sign to press your advantage, brushing your hand lower until your fingertips teased along the hard ridge of his cock in his pants.

But before you could cup his bulge through his clothes, Steve’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling it none too gently away from his lap. He yanked so hard on your arm that it put you off balance, and if it wasn’t for Steve’s other hand settling on your hip, his palm a possessive, heated touch, you might’ve tumbled back onto your ass.

“You’re delusional if you thought that would work on me, sweetheart,” Steve growled, the barest hint of teasing in the pet name as it rolled off his tongue.

A shiver skated down your spine, one you weren’t able to temper, and you felt more than saw Steve’s smirk. Using his grip on your wrist and your hip, he drew you closer, and—damn him—your stomach swooped when you felt the hard length of his cock press against your belly. 

It was all you could do to breathe normally and not pant over the hot mafia enforcer like a dog in heat. But that had its downsides, too, because Steve smelled good. Expensive cologne mixed with something dangerous, like gunpowder, and god help you, but you thought you could get high off his scent. 

You were so close to huffing Steve’s scent like a desperate hussy when his hand around your wrist squeezed, making you blink the lust from your gaze and look up at him. A smirk teased around the edges of his mouth and he looked so fucking devastatingly handsome, you wanted to kick him—or kiss him. 

“Tell me what you were doing in here,” Steve rumbled, looming over you once more in a clear attempt to intimidate you into answering. “And who you’re working for. Be honest, be honest—if you’re honest, we might go easy on you.”

At the reference to your employer, your spine went ramrod straight, and panic flooded your mind. You were so distracted by the thought of who’d hired you that you didn’t notice the way Steve’s eyes flicked briefly over your shoulder. Nor did you notice his use of “we” when it was only him in the room. 

As far as you were aware at least.

In the life of a thief, these were the kinds of rookie mistakes that could get you caught, could get you killed. Unfortunately for you, you were too scared of your employer and too off-balance by the closeness of the mafia enforcer, to even realize you’d made such amateur errors. 

You thought you were still in control of the situation, so you huffed an indignant sound and tossed your head, giving the appearance that you were offended by Steve’s words and the implied accusation. 

Tipping your head back, you managed to look down your nose at the taller man as you scrambled for another way out of the room so you could return later for the diamond you’d been hired to steal. It took only a moment for your clever mind to come up with something, even if it wasn’t your best work.

“Your boss told me to meet him here,” you said, latching onto the first excuse you could think of that you hadn’t tried already. It didn’t matter, in your mind, that it probably wouldn’t work. It had to work because you couldn’t disappoint your employer. It wasn’t an option. “He said he wanted to show me something, but I think he just wanted to get me alone.”

It felt stiff and fake, even to you, as you winked at Steve, but using his boss’s attraction to you was your last-ditch effort to get the enforcer to let you go. You just needed his grip to ease up long enough for him to check in with his boss so that you could use the distraction to escape. 

However, you hadn’t accounted for the universe—and the mafia boss and his most trusted enforcer—to be working so expertly against you. 

That time, you did notice when Steve’s gaze moved from your face to something over your shoulder, something deeper in the maze of the mansion’s secret room. Anxiety flooded your body and no matter how much you tried to remain calm, you could feel yourself beginning to panic.

“Is that right?” Steve asked, and despite all your instincts telling you that he wasn’t speaking to you, you opened your mouth to answer him. But he went on before you could. “Did you ask her to meet you here—did you give her your key?”

Your stomach was sinking down to your knees, which were in danger of wobbling as panic consumed your chest, making your heart hammer against your ribs like a bird trying to escape its cage. Your mouth was dry, and for once in your life, you were too stunned to speak. 

You could only watch in horror as Steve’s gaze—cold, blue and knowing—returned to your face, even as he continued speaking to someone else. You had a sneaking suspicion that you already knew who that someone else would turn out to be.

“Or did she pilfer it and sneak in here like the dirty little thief that she is?”

“That depends,” came a voice from behind you—one that was warm and filled with humor, even as it held a dangerous edge. One that you recognized.

It was the voice that belonged to the man of the house, the one you’d spent the past weeks cozying up to so you could steal from him. The one you’d secretly begun to like, along with his loyal enforcer, though that was a secret you planned to take to your grave. Unfortunately, it seemed tha might happen sooner rather than later.

“Does it count as stealing if I let her lift it off me so I could see what she’d do with it?”

Bucky Barnes sauntered into you line of view, shooting you a devastatingly charming grin that made you feel like your panties wanted to melt right off your body. You’d worked hard to ignore your attraction to the Brooklyn mafia boss, but in that moment, you couldn’t deny the way your body responded to him.

With his broad shoulders, bright eyes and towering stature, Bucky was one of the handsomest men you’d ever met. He was hot enough to give Steve a run for his money, and he had the charisma to wield those good looks like a dangerous weapon. You thought you’d been impervious to his hotness and his charms, but in that moment, you realized you weren’t.

Still, it wasn’t until Bucky slid in behind you, curving his big hands possessively around your waist, and caging you in between him and Steve that you realized just how much trouble you were in. Because the whole time you’d been thinking you were conning the head of the Brooklyn mafia and his right-hand man, they had clearly been three steps ahead of you. 

And now you were caught in their trap—literally. You were caught between their big, strong bodies, with nowhere to go and no tricks left up your sleeve. All you had left was to see what they’d do, and hope you could escape with your life, if not with the score that could save you from your employer’s wrath.

The life of a thief wasn’t for the weak, and it was a good thing you were made of stronger stuff than most. You just had to keep your head in the game and not get distracted by Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, and maybe, just maybe, you could still win your freedom.

But too bad for you, that might be easier said than done…

thank you for reading, part 2 is coming soon!! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! ♡♡♡

[mickimoo1409]

Yes! Amazing! Can't wait for more!

[witchywithwhiskey]

thank you!! ♡♡

[witchywithwhiskey]

the life of a thief ⟨part 1⟩

part 1 ⟡ part 2 (coming soon!)

pairing: mafia enforcer!steve rogers x female reader x mafia boss!bucky barnes

summary: you've spent weeks conning the boss of the brooklyn mafia, but when you're steps away from stealing the Blue Diamond of Alqualondë for your employer, you're caught by the boss's most trusted enforcer. then, things take a turn for the worse when you realize you weren't conning the mob boss—he was luring you into his trap.

warnings: mature content, eventual 18+ content (minors dni!!!), sexual tension (resolved in part 2), almost kiss, teasing touches, possessive touches, attempted sexual coercion, enemies to (eventual) lovers, bit of a cliffhanger ending

word count: 3.0k

a/n: i had an idea for @thezombieprostitute's Let's Plan A Heist challenge while i was working on my chef Jack Abbot fic but i didn't want to start it until i finished that fic. then by the time i got around to writing it, i realized the challenge was almost over. so! i've split what was supposed to be a one-shot into two parts, and this is the first part. part 1 is mostly setup/sexual tension while the next part will be mostly smut, and i'm going to work on it next, so it should be posted soon-ish! thank you Zombie for hosting such a fun challenge, and i hope everyone enjoys reading about our tricksy little thief!!

prompts used: mansion, party/celebration, you were hired, long con, solo, rival

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

In the life of a thief—the life you’d chosen, mostly willingly—it was important that nothing rattled you. You had to keep your cool in any situation you found yourself in, or else you could end up dead. It was a skill you’d honed over the years and it meant you could be held at gunpoint and not even break a sweat. 

But those words, said by that voice, sent a shiver of unease down your spine like nothing you’d ever felt before. A guilty grimace contorted your face before you could stop it, and you could only thank the universe that the man the voice belonged to was behind you, so he had no way of seeing it.

Taking a breath and reaching for the calmness that seemed to exist in endless reserves on all your other jobs, you steeled yourself. You schooled your features into an expression that was much more innocent before you turned around and faced the source of that voice.

Steve Rogers cut an intimidating figure, clad in a tailored suit that exquisitely highlighted his tall stature and broad shoulders. His narrow waist and thick, muscular thighs looked like a million bucks in a simple black suit with a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, giving you a tantalizing tease of all that golden skin he had under his clothes…

You nipped that thought right in the bud, focusing your gaze on Steve’s face—his stupidly handsome face—which was contorted into a cold, furious scowl. You couldn’t help but notice that even that expression looked good on him, and you had to force yourself to concentrate on the problem at hand.

Because the frown on Steve’s face wasn’t the one he typically wore in your presence. No, this particularly charming glower was because he’d discovered you in the secret, locked room in his boss’s Brooklyn mansion. The one that housed the mafia boss’s private collection of art, jewels, and other priceless valuables in a cramped maze that looked like an elegant version of a museum’s storage room.

It was a room that you absolutely, one hundred percent, shouldn’t be in. 

But not everything in that room was priceless. The Blue Diamond of Alqualondë would fetch your employer a cool $5.8 million on the black market. All you had to do was retrieve it, steal it away from the mansion and put it in your employer’s hands. Then you’d get the $1 million you were promised…and your debts would be forgiven. Finally.

Giving your head a subtle, impatient shake, you reminded yourself that you didn’t have time to ruminate on the mess you were in. It didn’t matter that you’d been forced to get close enough to a mafia boss to be invited to one of the exclusive parties at his mansion—or that you’d enjoyed your time with the Brooklyn mob boss more than you should’ved.

You had to focus on the problem in front of you. Namely the fiercely protective and extremely dangerous mafia enforcer standing between you and your freedom.

“Would you believe,” you began, sauntering toward Steve and putting a little extra sway in your hips. The gown you wore hugged your curves lovingly, a slit up the side offering teasing views of your bare thigh. It was meant to be a distraction of a dress and it was doing its job. “That I got lost while looking for the bathroom?”

A little zip of satisfaction shot straight down your spine when Steve’s cold, blue eyes dipped briefly to your body, raking quickly over your chest, your hips, your legs, like he couldn’t help himself. But the excitement you felt at getting the man’s attention fizzled when his gaze returned to your face, harder than before.

But you wouldn’t—couldn’t—be deterred. It was imperative that you distract Steve and get him out of the room so you could sneak back later and steal the Blue Diamond of Alqualondë from his boss’s collection. How exactly you’d do that when the enforcer who already didn’t trust you, would be on higher alert? That was a problem for later you.

All you could do was deal with one problem at a time. So you moved closer to the big, intimdating man and slunk into his personal space, placing a hand over the breast pocket of his jacket while you fluttered your lashes at him. 

“This place is just so big and confusing,” you murmured demurely, trying to play the role of damsel in distress while you surreptitiously searched his jacket for something, anything to help you get free. 

But aside from a couple guns in shoulder holsters, all you found were the hard muscles Steve hid beneath his tailored suit. You forced yourself to ignore the twist of attraction in your belly, the melting warmth that sang in your blood, and urged you to do something stupid, something too fucking reckless, even for you. 

It became easier when Steve’s lithe fingers wrapped around your wrist and he stopped your wandering hand in its tracks. He gave you a tight warning squeeze before letting his hands fall and stuffing them in his pockets, making a show of how little of a threat he thought you posed.

“From anyone else, I might believe that excuse,” Steve rumbled, staring down his nose at you. His eyes were like two chips of ice, sending even more cold anxiety down your spine, and it was only your years of practice that kept you from wilting under his angry stare. “But not from you, sweetheart.”

It disturbed you how much you liked hearing Steve call you by that pet name, even if his tone was dripping with disdain as he said it. In your head, you reached for the calm that typically came so easily when you were working a job, but you found it was rapidly depleting. 

There was something about Steve Rogers that left you feeling stripped bare and defenseless, and it took much more effort than usual to gather your charm and clever tactics around you like protective armor. Giving an indignant, offended huff of a laugh, you swatted Steve’s chest like you were old friends.

“You’re so mean to me, Stevie,” you whined in your sweetest, most ingratiating voice, batting your eyes at the scowling enforcer. “I’m just a little lost,” you said, pouting up at him with your most pathetic expression.

At the same time, you pressed closer, your tits brushing against his chest, sending sparks of pleasure rioting in your belly, your nipples tightening beneath the thin, slinky fabric of your dress. It took everything in you to hold back a shiver as desire ran rampant in your body, making you feel hot and achy.

“Cut the shit, sweetheart,” Steve snapped, his anger bleeding over into his tone in a way that made his voice hard and unrelenting. It got you thinking about other things of his that would feel hard and unrelenting and could help soothe the ache between your thighs…

“This room is kept locked, so try again,” Steve growled, leaning in until he was looming above you, using that stupid heigh to his advantage. 

However, the movement also pressed you closer to him, your tits brushing his chest and making your breath hitch as your nipples rubbed against him again. Steve’s eyes dropped to your tits, which were heaving in the low neckline of your dress, in danger of spilling out. 

A sound, like a choked off, hungry growl, rumbled in Steve’s chest, and the air in the room crackled with unresolved tension. It went straight to your head, that sound, and you could feel your brain melting a little at how much pure, undiluted lust was etched into Steve’s handsome face.

For a moment, between one breath and the next, you thought Steve Rogers might kiss you. You were already sagging in relief at the thought, your body sinking deeper into him, your hands pressed flat against the lapels of his jacket, ready to grab him and haul him even closer. 

You knew the kiss would be good. It would be devastating for the both of you, and your body lit up with the anticipation… but the kiss never came.

With a violent jerk of his head, Steve wrenched his gaze from your mouth, where he’d been staring at your lips like they were the answer to all his life’s problems, and he looked past your shoulder, deep into the maze of the room. He swallowed thickly, put some space between your bodies and finally looked back at you. 

When he did, his expression was guarded, and all the lust that had filled his face had been buried deep within the span of a few seconds. All that remained was the distrust that had haunted his blue eyes since you first appeared in his boss’s life. 

“Now, answer me, sweetheart,” Steve rumbled, his voice going infinitesimally softer on the pet name before he continued on. “What were you doing in here?”

The sudden shift in Steve’s mood was effective in waking you up from the lust spell you’d fallen into, and you realized you had one last card to play in an effort to get out of your disastrous situation. It was a long shot—Steve was so loyal to his boss, that it was unlikely he’d betray him for anything—but you had to try.

So you pressed your soft body more deliberately against the hard, unyielding bulk of Steve’s form, taking care to keep your wits about you as you danced your fingers along the line of his jacket. You let your fingertips trace the buttons of his white dress shirt, down to his abdomen, feeling the muscles of his stomach spasm at your touch. 

Steve’s face remained a stony, unforgiving mask as you teased your nails along the hem of his pants, toying with the leather of his belt. You sucked in a breath for courage, emboldened by the bulge brushing against your hip and looked at the handsome mafia enforcer from under your lashes.

“What’ll it take to make you leave and forget you ever saw me in here?” you asked silkily, pushing up onto your tiptoes so you could murmur in Steve’s ear, your breath ghosting tantalizingly against his bearded jaw. “I promise to make it worth your while, sir.” 

You were pressed so close to Steve that you felt his body go rigid at the honorific, his breath rushing out of him like you’d knocked the air out of his lungs. A pleased smirk teased the corners of your lips and you took his reaction as a sign to press your advantage, brushing your hand lower until your fingertips teased along the hard ridge of his cock in his pants.

But before you could cup his bulge through his clothes, Steve’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling it none too gently away from his lap. He yanked so hard on your arm that it put you off balance, and if it wasn’t for Steve’s other hand settling on your hip, his palm a possessive, heated touch, you might’ve tumbled back onto your ass.

“You’re delusional if you thought that would work on me, sweetheart,” Steve growled, the barest hint of teasing in the pet name as it rolled off his tongue.

A shiver skated down your spine, one you weren’t able to temper, and you felt more than saw Steve’s smirk. Using his grip on your wrist and your hip, he drew you closer, and—damn him—your stomach swooped when you felt the hard length of his cock press against your belly. 

It was all you could do to breathe normally and not pant over the hot mafia enforcer like a dog in heat. But that had its downsides, too, because Steve smelled good. Expensive cologne mixed with something dangerous, like gunpowder, and god help you, but you thought you could get high off his scent. 

You were so close to huffing Steve’s scent like a desperate hussy when his hand around your wrist squeezed, making you blink the lust from your gaze and look up at him. A smirk teased around the edges of his mouth and he looked so fucking devastatingly handsome, you wanted to kick him—or kiss him. 

“Tell me what you were doing in here,” Steve rumbled, looming over you once more in a clear attempt to intimidate you into answering. “And who you’re working for. Be honest, be honest—if you’re honest, we might go easy on you.”

At the reference to your employer, your spine went ramrod straight, and panic flooded your mind. You were so distracted by the thought of who’d hired you that you didn’t notice the way Steve’s eyes flicked briefly over your shoulder. Nor did you notice his use of “we” when it was only him in the room. 

As far as you were aware at least.

In the life of a thief, these were the kinds of rookie mistakes that could get you caught, could get you killed. Unfortunately for you, you were too scared of your employer and too off-balance by the closeness of the mafia enforcer, to even realize you’d made such amateur errors. 

You thought you were still in control of the situation, so you huffed an indignant sound and tossed your head, giving the appearance that you were offended by Steve’s words and the implied accusation. 

Tipping your head back, you managed to look down your nose at the taller man as you scrambled for another way out of the room so you could return later for the diamond you’d been hired to steal. It took only a moment for your clever mind to come up with something, even if it wasn’t your best work.

“Your boss told me to meet him here,” you said, latching onto the first excuse you could think of that you hadn’t tried already. It didn’t matter, in your mind, that it probably wouldn’t work. It had to work because you couldn’t disappoint your employer. It wasn’t an option. “He said he wanted to show me something, but I think he just wanted to get me alone.”

It felt stiff and fake, even to you, as you winked at Steve, but using his boss’s attraction to you was your last-ditch effort to get the enforcer to let you go. You just needed his grip to ease up long enough for him to check in with his boss so that you could use the distraction to escape. 

However, you hadn’t accounted for the universe—and the mafia boss and his most trusted enforcer—to be working so expertly against you. 

That time, you did notice when Steve’s gaze moved from your face to something over your shoulder, something deeper in the maze of the mansion’s secret room. Anxiety flooded your body and no matter how much you tried to remain calm, you could feel yourself beginning to panic.

“Is that right?” Steve asked, and despite all your instincts telling you that he wasn’t speaking to you, you opened your mouth to answer him. But he went on before you could. “Did you ask her to meet you here—did you give her your key?”

Your stomach was sinking down to your knees, which were in danger of wobbling as panic consumed your chest, making your heart hammer against your ribs like a bird trying to escape its cage. Your mouth was dry, and for once in your life, you were too stunned to speak. 

You could only watch in horror as Steve’s gaze—cold, blue and knowing—returned to your face, even as he continued speaking to someone else. You had a sneaking suspicion that you already knew who that someone else would turn out to be.

“Or did she pilfer it and sneak in here like the dirty little thief that she is?”

“That depends,” came a voice from behind you—one that was warm and filled with humor, even as it held a dangerous edge. One that you recognized.

It was the voice that belonged to the man of the house, the one you’d spent the past weeks cozying up to so you could steal from him. The one you’d secretly begun to like, along with his loyal enforcer, though that was a secret you planned to take to your grave. Unfortunately, it seemed tha might happen sooner rather than later.

“Does it count as stealing if I let her lift it off me so I could see what she’d do with it?”

Bucky Barnes sauntered into you line of view, shooting you a devastatingly charming grin that made you feel like your panties wanted to melt right off your body. You’d worked hard to ignore your attraction to the Brooklyn mafia boss, but in that moment, you couldn’t deny the way your body responded to him.

With his broad shoulders, bright eyes and towering stature, Bucky was one of the handsomest men you’d ever met. He was hot enough to give Steve a run for his money, and he had the charisma to wield those good looks like a dangerous weapon. You thought you’d been impervious to his hotness and his charms, but in that moment, you realized you weren’t.

Still, it wasn’t until Bucky slid in behind you, curving his big hands possessively around your waist, and caging you in between him and Steve that you realized just how much trouble you were in. Because the whole time you’d been thinking you were conning the head of the Brooklyn mafia and his right-hand man, they had clearly been three steps ahead of you. 

And now you were caught in their trap—literally. You were caught between their big, strong bodies, with nowhere to go and no tricks left up your sleeve. All you had left was to see what they’d do, and hope you could escape with your life, if not with the score that could save you from your employer’s wrath.

The life of a thief wasn’t for the weak, and it was a good thing you were made of stronger stuff than most. You just had to keep your head in the game and not get distracted by Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, and maybe, just maybe, you could still win your freedom.

But too bad for you, that might be easier said than done…

thank you for reading, part 2 is coming soon!! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! ♡♡♡

[starwolfies]

IM SAT. the tension was sooooo goooood i’m actually sat and ready for this trio 🤤

[witchywithwhiskey]

ahh thank you!! ♡♡