mdemontespan1667

[mdemontespan1667]

What wickedly perfect blasphemy 🖤

Lead Us Not Into Temptation

Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON, mentions of prostitution, mentions of infidelity

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies 

summary: turning your life around is easier said than done when you tempt the very man meant to lead you to salvation.

♱

“Bless me, father, for I have sinned…”

The familiar words tumbled from your lips, and your gaze remained on your lap, eyes following your finger as you traced patterns into the solid black skirt on your frame. It kissed your ankle as you shifted your feet, and the reminder of the long fabric had you swallowing down less than gentle thoughts. You slowly reached up to touch the collar of your shirt, eyes briefly falling closed as you cleared your throat.

You’d spent hours agonizing over how you’d leave the house…

“It has been seven days since my last confession. These are my sins.”

Like clockwork, you listed the time you cursed for some accident or another and the time you took the Lord’s name in vain and the brief impure thought about that attractive man you’d seen in the grocery store. Every week, it was the same. Sins that you yourself would never have considered as such months ago that you were now hyper aware of. They climbed out of your throat seamlessly, remembering every single one until only one was left.

The silence between you and the man just on the other side of that wall stretched—a familiar occurrence—and you took your lip between your teeth. You could taste blood as you worried it, swallowing it down before clearing your throat again. You smoothed your hand over your skirt, and you furiously blinked, struggling to blink away the tears that had started to collect. As you sat in silence, you wondered why you were trying so hard to impress people that had already written you off?

“I’ve had…some hateful thoughts as well.”

You struggled to get the words out, always struck by just how emotional this made you. You looked up towards the ceiling, eyes roaming, and you hadn’t even realized that your breathing had started to pick up until he spoke.

Father Mayhew.

“Take your time,” he gently encouraged. “Speak when you are ready.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard those words, recalling your first ever confessional and how you’d cried. It was as embarrassing now as it was then, but it was necessary. You were determined to live differently now—to be different, now.

“Although I have abandoned my former life and…occupation…” you thought you heard him shift. “...I feel as if I will never truly be forgiven for it.”

You swiped your tongue between your lips.

“...will never be accepted.”

You recalled the eyes that often found their way to you during mass—the judgment, the disdain, the way in which some stared at you as if they didn’t know how to place you. 

Every sunday it was the same. You’d wake up and agonize over how to present yourself in a place as holy as this. You’d fret that this skirt was too short and that dress was too tight. You’d fiddle with your hair for far too long and every lipstick you wiped off would stain your lips a little more than the last. You were constantly at a crossroad, torn between wanting to look nice for church and concerned about looking like…well…a whore.

You struggled to swallow.

“I see the way they look at me,” you eventually whispered, staring at nothing. “I can’t hear what they whisper, but I know it’s about me.”

You touched your throat, hating how tight it felt.

“It’s…discouraging.”

You didn’t want to use that word, but it was the only word that was appropriate. It made you sad, and you often wondered why you kept returning to a place that made you sad. Surely a church wasn’t necessary to ‘find God’...right? You didn’t think so, but you had wanted to start somewhere, and considering that none of your friends even owned a bible, they had been of no help. Stepping foot into a place that had only ever served to be ominous and oppressive in your eyes was the most terrifying thing you’d ever done.

…but then you had laid eyes on Father Mayhew.

He’d been the only one in the church at the time, and you would never forget the curious glint in his dark gaze. You’d had no doubt that he could see you were scared and unsure and in an environment you were wholly unused to. You’d appreciated the gentle way in which he talked to you, guiding you towards a pew in the front as you asked him questions that some people had answers to their entire lives. He hadn’t treated you like you were stupid, but more importantly, he hadn’t treated you like you didn’t belong.

You were willing to bet that he hadn’t even known about you then.

Although, months later, you were willing to bet that he did now…even though you’d never told him.

“Humans are flawed,” his smooth voice reached your ears through the wall. “We all fall short—even the most devout of us—and we find ourselves falling prey to the temptation of judgment…pride…lust…”

You intently listened. After all, he’d never said these words to you before, always giving you some speech about God’s love trumping all.

“I have no doubt that it is trying, but I am sure you will come to give them grace for their sins just as they will give you grace for yours. We are all God’s children striving to lead a life in his image…”

His voice lowered at that, and you frowned slightly, looking towards the wall and thinking to yourself that he almost seemed to be talking to himself now.

“He wants his children to love one another, a feat that is not without difficulty I’m sure you know…” that actually made you hold back a chuckle. “...but God’s love is powerful and he always grants forgiveness to those who genuinely yearn and ask for it.”

At that, you did smile.

You told him that you were truly sorry for your sins, and he told you to say ten Hail Mary’s, and you stepped out of the confessional feeling better than you did thirty minutes ago. You didn’t know how long the feeling would last though, and so you wanted to hold onto it for as long as you could, but you knew from experience that was easier said than done.

You touched the crucifix around your neck as you stepped out of your building.

It had once belonged to your mother, and despite how long she’d been gone and how down on your luck you’d been ever since, you could never quite find it in you to pawn it. It was real gold—probably the only real piece of jewelry you ever owned—but you just couldn’t do it, and you supposed that you were never meant to. Despite the many years you’d lived life as the complete opposite of a God fearing woman…it felt right sitting just below your collarbone.

Even if many would not agree.

You were no stranger to several men in this town—and the ones who often passed through on their truck routes—but that had not stopped you from seeking solace and guidance from a place you’d never stepped foot into in your life. You couldn’t lie and say it didn’t feel…strange to be in the same building as some of the men you’d serviced before, their wives and children at their side as they furiously avoided making eye contact with you. It felt even worse to watch the way the women would congregate together after church, excluding you all the while talking about you.

It felt somewhat pathetic for your only ally in the place to be the priest.

Although you sometimes wondered how true that was these days. You’d never once confessed that you used to be a prostitute—although the kids called it sex work these days—but you weren’t stupid. As godly and devout as they claimed to be, you knew that the church was filled with gossip and there was no telling who’d let it slip to the dark haired man. You knew when he knew though…

…because he looked at you different.

It wasn’t a bad different—thank God for that—but just…different, and while it wasn’t necessarily bad, you still didn’t think you liked it. Confession—being anonymous—never allowed for you to tell him your name, and considering you’d only ever spoken to him once outside of confession months ago, you didn’t know if he ever knew it was you he was talking to. You didn’t know if he knew that the woman he spoke so gently with each week and listened to cry on the other side of some window was the same woman who often shrunk under his heavy gaze as he looked down on his congregation.

You never felt like he was judging you, no, but you also never felt like he was looking at you as he did that first day, a gentle curiosity in his eyes. He wasn’t your friend—far from it in fact—but he felt like the closest thing you had to one in this church, and so you often forced yourself to find excuses for it. He watches you because he wants to make sure you’re settling in okay. He watches you to observe how other members of the church are treating you. He watches you because he’s wondering if you’ll ever come to confession, convincing yourself that he’s never recognized your voice all this time.

That is why he watches you, you told yourself.

No other reason. 

“You always come to pray at least three times a week…”

The familiar voice startled you as you stood, hand lowering as you’d just finished signing the cross. Your hand was still on your chest as you turned to face him, a small smile on your lips as he stood directly in the center of the aisle. You hadn’t even heard him make a single sound, and you wondered how long he’d been standing there.

He slowly returned your smile with one of his own, although it was smaller, and the silent way in which he stared at you reminded you that he’d said something to you. 

“Yes,” you finally said, moving away from the altar. “It helps with…um…really everything.”

He blinked at you, and you noticed that a strand of his hair was threatening to go rogue. He always looked so neat and perfect that it was hard to miss. Father Mayhew was handsome—if anyone had seen enough men to know it was you—but he was handsome in a way that you would categorize as flawless. Divine even. In a way that was untouchable and only meant to be admired in the most innocent of appreciation. 

He slowly nodded at your response, and you didn’t miss the way he studied you—dark eyes drinking you in and taking note of every stylistic choice you’d made today.

“You know, I think I might see your face far more than those who have been coming here for years,” he lightly told you, a slight laugh on his lips.

You laughed with him, only offering him a shrug.

“I’m still new. I’m sure it just seems that way because you aren’t used to seeing me.”

He started to shake his head before you could even finish talking, and you watched him move closer.

“No,” he murmured—so low you almost didn't hear him. “I think you are perhaps my most…devout congregant.”

He touched your crucifix as he said this, dark eyes tracing the shape of it, and he was so close that you could smell his cologne. You blinked at the scent, finding it strange to know that he wore cologne. It shouldn’t be strange, you supposed, but you realized then that you didn’t quite view priests—view him—as human. As normal…

His eyes lifted then to finally connect with yours, and a crooked smile danced along his pink lips.

“It’s admirable,” he whispered. “More of my congregation could stand to follow your lead.”

You couldn’t ignore the way your chest bloomed at those words, almost hating how much validation you wanted from this place. Validation that you were a good person…you weren’t who you used to be…that you were worthy of something more, you didn’t know. It just felt relieving to hear such a compliment from Father Mayhew when no one else in the church would even give you a chance.

“Thank you, Father,” you quietly replied to him. “That means a lot to me.”

You watched him slowly inhale as he dropped his hand, and he seemed even slower to step out of your way. When you walked past him, you could feel his gaze on you—always watching—and you smiled when he called out to you, telling you that he looked forward to seeing you on Sunday.

No one was more sad than you when you had to disappoint him.

An unexpected cold had you bedridden for days, and while you knew that an illness was a perfectly valid excuse to miss church, you couldn’t swallow down the disappointment. You hadn’t missed a single Sunday since you first started going, and you thought to yourself that the first thing you’d do when you returned was explain your absence to Father Mayhew.

You had never anticipated him showing up at your door to get it himself.

No one ever knocked on your door these days, so the sound had taken you by surprise. Your friends—while supportive of the direction your life had taken—didn’t quite understand it and so you didn’t see them as often, and as for anyone else… Well, there wasn’t anyone else who would come knocking on your door. You didn’t do that anymore so no customers were going to be greeting you on the other side with their money in their hand and an eager grin on their lips, and you doubted any of the women in town would want to sit down for a chat anytime soon.

Your shock at Father Mayhew’s presence was all over your face.

“Father,” you stated, the lilt in your voice hinting at your surprise.

He looked just as you were used to seeing him—clerical collar still on, not a hair out of place, and a hint of a smile on those pink lips. You stood there gaping at him for all of five seconds before it struck you how rude you were probably being.

“I…I’m so sorry. Um…come in,” you told him, stepping out of the way and widening the gap in the doorway.

He didn’t respond nor move right away, looking past you into your small house with a look in his gaze that you couldn’t name. If he were anyone else, you might worry that he was judging where you lived. You watched his jaw briefly tighten, a noticeable strain in his face, and it only just occurred to you that maybe this wasn’t appropriate? Although you were positive you’d heard of priests and pastors visiting the sick before, and while you certainly weren’t on your deathbed, you didn’t see why this would be different.

Before you could say another word though, his foot crossed the threshold, and you closed the door behind him.

“I do apologize for the unexpected visit,” he said to you, gazing around before his eyes landed on you again. “...but when I noticed that mass was absent of a face I’d grown to look forward to, I became concerned.”

You couldn’t stop your smile at his words

“Oh,” you softly said. “Well, there’s no need to be concerned. It’s just a small cold that will be gone in a day or two.”

You watched him exhale at that, nodding to himself, and you studied him, surprised to see that he looked genuinely relieved at that.

“I’m glad to hear that’s all it is…”

At that, your brows furrowed, and you watched him slowly walk about your living room.

“I had feared that some of your fellow church goers had scared you off.”

Your lips parted at his words, and he turned and looked at you.

“They often fall into the temptation of judgment, after all…”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you didn’t know how to react with the knowledge that he knew it was you who came to see him once a week. You’d only spoken to him face to face twice, and you swallowed, looking away.

“I thought it would be a shame if they scared you off,” he confessed, and you noted that he was closer now. “I wondered what I would have to do to convince you to come back. Drag you, perhaps.”

You gave a soft laugh at that, although he didn’t join you, and it awkwardly faded. He stared at you in silence for what felt like a long time, and just when you were considering asking him if he wanted anything to drink, he reached out to touch the crucifix around your neck again.

“So devout,” he quietly said to himself. “It almost makes me ashamed…”

At that, you gave a heavy laugh, wondering how you could ever shame a priest.

“Why?”

“...because I see why they flocked to your door…money in hand.”

His gaze lifted as he said that, and you were still as you both just stared at each other. His words made you blink, and you were suddenly very aware of his hand practically on you. You couldn’t stop the slight frown that fell over your face, and for the first time in months—since you first stepped foot into that church—you felt…wrong.

“I see why their eyes trace every inch of you when you’re not looking…as if to relive the memory of what you felt like—tasted like.”

You finally took a step back, hand coming up to cover your necklace as if protecting it from his touch.

“What memories they must have of you…”

You wrapped your other arm around yourself, mind whirling to reconcile the man before you with the same man who’d always been so welcoming and gentle. Not once did you ever think he judged you for your past, and you supposed that you were right, but not once did you ever think he also might…

You hadn’t done that in over a year, but had it really escaped you so quickly that a seemingly devout man was still…a man?

“Father, I think you should-.”

“I don’t say any of this to offend you,” he interrupted, tilting his head. “I say it because I fight the urge to touch you every time you’re in my presence.”

You moved by him to make your way to the door, but like an ever present shadow you only just noticed, he was close behind.

“You can cover up as much as you’d like—wear skirts down to your ankle and shirts up to your chin…” his hand on the door halted your movements. 

You felt his chest just barely grazing your back, and his lips followed suit, the softness of them brushing against your ear as he spoke. That familiar cologne invaded your senses.

“...but none of it can hide the temptation you pose by merely existing.”

You shrunk away from him at that, tears in your eyes as he verbalized the same fears you had every time you walked into the building. You flinched when his lips touched the back of your neck, heart dropping to your stomach, but you reached for the door handle anyway.

“Father, I’d like you to leave-.”

Your words were cut off by your own sharp scream, taken aback by the feel of his fingers harshly pressing into the skin of your throat. His hand rested on the back of your neck, and you pressed your hand to the door when his lips grazed your cheek.

“They’re all like rabid dogs…just waiting to pounce,” he mused against your skin, sliding between you and the door and forcing you further into your house with every step. “Just waiting for you to give up this charade and go back to taking their money for a quick fuck.”

You blinked, and a few tears escaped.

“...but they don’t know you like I know you.”

He grinned against your cheek, and you winced as he lightly nipped at the skin there.

“They don’t know that you come to church at least thrice a week to light candles and pray…”

You were full on sobbing now, and you could feel the cool metal of his ring against the back of your neck.

“They don’t know that you never miss your weekly confession, telling me every time you so much as say the Lord’s name in vain.”

His free hand was reaching for the buttons of your shirt, popping them open one by one, and you gasped when his fingers finally met skin. He dipped his head, mouth finding the skin of your shoulder and collarbone interesting before his hand searched for your wrist.

“They don’t know that you are the most pious woman to walk through those doors,” he purred, pressing gentle kisses to the inside of your wrist. “...and that I just want to ruin you for it.”

When his hand dipped between your legs, you were quick to try and stop him, still wincing at the tight grip on the back of your neck. Father Mayhew made a noise of disapproval, and your hand faltered when he harshly bit your shoulder.

“We are…and always will be…sinners…”

Once his fingers were inside of you, it was like the point of no return. You found it funny that he likened the men in church to that of rabid dogs when he himself was behaving like the very thing he used to insult them. When your knees buckled, he followed—one arm around you and holding you in place while the fingers on his other hand curved into you.

Every thrust of his fingers made you wetter—embarrassingly so—and when he pulled your head back, he forced a kiss onto your lips. He swallowed down your whimpers and noises of protest, a moan escaping him as he tasted the inside of your mouth. With him so close to you, you could feel the muscles and contours of his frame beneath his clothes, and you were forced to recognize your predicament and his strength and what that meant for you.

When you were face to face with him again, his hair was nowhere near as neat as it was when he first walked through your door. His pink lips were swollen and reddened from kissing you and dragging over your skin. Your pajama top had long been discarded, the bottoms long ripped and pulled off of you. Father Mayhew’s—Charlie—clerical collar was long gone, his shirt pulled open and hanging off of him.

You recalled the way your mouth had parted into an ‘O’ shape when the head of his cock finally dipped into you, stretching you with every inch and making your heart momentarily stop. His hand covered a breast, the feel of his ring cooling that singular part of your skin, the rest of you so overheated. His other hand was wrapped around your throat, and you clawed at his hand as he fucked you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud in your tiny home, the only sound to rival it being his harsh grunts and your strained voice. Any fight that you’d put up had been quickly squashed down, shown in the harshest manner just how strong your priest was. You hated how good it felt, hated that you didn’t want this but was now forced to enjoy it. Nevermind the fact that you hadn’t enjoyed sex for the act itself in years…

…but of all people to find yourself in this predicament with.

Father Mayhew’s hands never stayed in one place for long. He seemed determined to touch every part of you he could get his hands on, lips tasting the saltiness of your skin. Sweat clung to your frame and his, his fingers sliding over you as he kneaded your thighs and your waist and your chest. Every time you reminded yourself how wrong this was, he’d push his cock into you to the hilt, and you’d involuntarily throw your head back.

You could feel your crucifix pressing into your skin, and your eyes watered.

“I must admit that I was—am—jealous,” he dragged out, voice hoarse and throaty and wholly unlike how you were used to hearing him. “Your devotion to God inspires an envy within me that I never knew existed.”

You took note of the scars on his back underneath your fingers.

“...a desire to have you completely devoted to me,” he bit out, covering your lips with his own. “You so desperately desire forgiveness and acceptance…and all the things you didn’t think you were worthy of having.”

He harshly thrust into you, making you gasp.

“...and I can give that to you,” he whispered into the kiss.

The power behind his thrusts had you scratching at both his back and the floor, eyes squeezing shut at the way his fingers dug into your skin. It was like he was both holding you to him and trying to prevent you from ever walking away. Your chest arched up into his as you gasped, choked whimpers climbing out of your throat with every push of his hips. He growled against your skin as his lips traveled to your neck, the sound almost demonic to your ears.

When you came around him—your first orgasm in over a year—you couldn’t swallow down the noise it forced out of you. You could feel blood beneath your nails and a slickness on the inside of your thighs, but all the while Father Mayhew didn’t stop.

With one hand pressed against the floor, he pushed himself up to look down at you. His free hand slid up your sweaty frame, coming up to wrap around the crucifix that rested against your skin. He tightened his hold around it, and he pulled on it, forcing you to lift your head and meet him halfway for a kiss.

“I want you just as eager to get on your knees for me…”

[mdemontespan1667]

After 6 surgeries, one fusion, 3 titanium buttons, two slings, and 5 tunnels, for the first time since Jan 2023, I don't have any further surgeries scheduled on my thumb!

[mdemontespan1667]

Probably should not have read this at my desk 🖤

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤!𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑𝟒𝟏𝟖

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧-𝐜𝐨𝐧/𝐃𝐮𝐛-𝐜𝐨𝐧. 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐏 𝐢𝐧 𝐕 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥. 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠). 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐯𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦. 𝐂𝐮𝐦 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔!

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬 @stargazingfangirl18 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞. 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐛𝐡 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭! 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. 𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

You’re smiling as you leave work in a hurry, your boyfriend of a year had just called you, almost frantic with excitement, 

“Come home, Y/N, I’m taking you away for the weekend, it’s a surprise though so don’t ask me questions.”

Obviously you were excited, Lloyd had been so depressed recently, this was going to be a great get away for the both of you, it was just what you needed. Your dreams of a cozy cabin and lots of sex died when you opened the door to a nightmare, however.

“See, the problem is, Y/N, that your boy here owed me a lot of money, and because he can’t get it, he offered me you.”

Your shoulders are screaming in pain from where your arms are wrenched behind your back, and your throat hurts from where Steve Rogers goon was holding you against him. It hadn’t made sense at first, your couch was cream, not red… the shirt Lloyd was wearing when you left hours earlier had been a pristine white, not this splotchy burgundy colour…

By the time your brain had processed that what you were looking at was blood, and that Lloyd’s face was swollen and bruised, it was too late. Hands had seized you, one levelled a slap at your face that cut your scream off and sent your ears ringing, and you came face to face with the man that now held Lloyd’s life in his hands. 

“Me?”

“Yeah… Well, technically I made him offer you as collateral,” Steve motioned to his thug to let you go and they did, leaving you to fall against Steve who pulled you against him, before taking a seat on your spare seat and pulling you into his lap. You struggle briefly, but Steve just nods his head at yet another thug, and Lloyd yelps in pain when they hit him again, “another move from you, sweetheart, and I’ll cut his fingers off, okay?”

You go still, and Steve laughs, 

“Yeah, anyway, long story short, your boy here owed me ten grand. I was going to take him out back and shoot him, then come here and take whatever I could, but this lucky guy was smart enough to have a picture of you on his phone. One look and I was a goner. I said to him that I would forgive his debt if he gave me you, and well…”

Lloyd groaned when another kick was levelled at his ribs.

“This dumbass thought he could get you away from me and avoid paying me my money, so here we are. You, sweetheart, belong to me now, and Lloyd is going to get free swimming lessons in the Hudson.”

“Wait-!”

It was too late, Lloyd was heaved to his feet, and dragged out of the door. You tried to get up to run to him, but Steve just held you back, 

“Get your beauty sleep, sweetheart, I’ll be back in the morning for you.”

They leave, and you cry yourself to sleep, only to wake to the noise of your front door opening, and Steve walking in like he owned the place with a crew of men behind him, 

“So I own this place now, Y/N,” you blink at that, but he ignores you, “I got it for a bargain, don’t worry, I won’t add it to your tab. The locks are being changed, and I got the spare. You’re going to be working for me now, you’ll start at my club tonight, so you’re coming with me to get something hot to wear, my guys are going to clean up and make this place presentable again,”

“I don’t-”

“I didn’t ask, come on,” Steve takes your wrist and tugs you forward, swatting your ass lightly, then keeps his palm there for a moment, “Lloyd had good taste, damn…” you pull away, a complaint on your lips, but it doesn’t come out, not when Steve drapes his arm over your shoulders like it belongs there, and not when he takes you to his car, a beautiful gun metal grey machine, and slides in the backseat next to you. His palm is warm on your knee, firm enough you don’t try to move away. His blue eyes meet yours as the car pulls away, “Don’t look so scared, I won’t bite. Well, unless you ask, of course,” his palm travels a little higher on your leg, and you shift in the leather seat, 

“Where’s Lloyd?”

“I’m sitting here thinking about how hot you’ll look in this designer dress I got picked out for you, and you’re wondering about your ex? Wow, talk about grateful,” He still doesn’t take his hand away though, instead it drifts higher, 

“He’s not my ex-”

“Well, he is an ex person, so unless you’re into dead guys…” Steve shrugs, finally removing his hand from your leg as you shake your head in disbelief, “Come on now, you didn’t think I was lying about the Hudson, did you? The man got what he deserved. Only a coward uses his girl as a way to get out of a debt.”

A tear drops from your eye as the car slows down in front of Bloomingdales, “What did I do to deserve this?”

“Sweetheart, you’re getting a shopping spree, a cushy job, and free rent. This is the kind of life pretty women like you cream yourselves over, no responsibility, no worries, just living the good life with a big bad protector looking over your shoulder,” Steve brings his hand to your cheek, gently wiping the tear away and tilting your face so he can meet your eyes, “you should be thanking me.”

“You killed my boyfriend.”

“He had it coming. Now,” Steve leaves you when the door is opened, and holds his hand out for you. You quickly wipe at your face, and take his hand with your own trembling one, “good girl. Let’s make you presentable.”

“So what work will I be doing?” You’re in a large dressing room, surrounded by beautiful designer dresses and shoes. Your hand picked makeup and skin care had already been packed up and sent to your apartment, now Steve wanted to see what outfits looked good on you. You weren’t trembling anymore, I’m fact you’d almost been lulled into some sense of security as you’d been guided through the department store.

You still didn’t know exactly what it was that Steve did, just that he was rich - incredibly so - and that he owned at least one club he wanted you to work at. You’d been terrified that this “club” was a euphemism for sex work, but listening to him talk to the personal shoppers and managers, it really did seem like a legitimate private club. There were strippers and drugs and very high end escorts of course, but that’s not what he wanted you to do. You were pulling the straps of the beautifully made dress over your shoulders when you finally asked the question about your new job, Steve on the other side of the curtain,

“Front of house, hostess, kind of gig.”

“Like showing people to their tables?”

“Pretty much. You have the kind of face that will keep people coming back to spend their money.”

You ignored the compliment, turning to look at yourself in the mirror instead, “I’ve never done that before.”

“Doesn’t matter. I want you there where I can see you.” 

The way he said those words sent a shiver through you, you’d let your guard down and forgotten that this man was an admitted murderer, “I’m not going to run anywhere,”

“I know that, sweetheart,” the menace in his voice had disappeared, he even sounded warm, “what dress are you wearing?”

“Oh, umm-”

“Come out here and show me,” You stared at the shadow shaped like Steve through the curtain, and stepped back when it moved. He was imposing even when you couldn’t see him, “is it that strappy one?”

“Y-yes-”

“Are you wearing panties? You’re going to have to give them to me if you are, sweetheart. I don’t want you wearing them anymore, I should’ve told you that before we left, that’s my bad,”

“What?! You can’t just- oh!” You step back rapidly, your back hits the mirror behind you as Steve flings the curtain to one side and pushes through into the cubicle. It’s a private space for the wealthy so it wasn’t small, but he made the space shrink around you until all you saw was him in front of you, blue eyes blazing,

“Did you just tell me what I can’t do?”

“I d-didn’t-”

“Hand over your underwear, now. Good girl,” you shimmy your panties down your legs, heart pounding, face burning, eyes stinging with tears you refuse to shed. Steve takes the underwear and calmly pockets them, a smirk playing dangerously on his face as he places his hands on your shoulders and toys with the straps of the dress, “now let’s go over the rules, shall we?”

You nod, it’s the only movement you’re capable of at that moment.

“You live in my apartment, you spend my money, and you work at my club-”

“I didn’t-”

“So you owe me, but you already knew that, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Steve carefully pushes the strap on your left shoulder down so it hangs on your upper arm, “I was given you in good faith by that gambling asshole, and I intend to have you for a long time coming. You’re in my bed, under my care, and under my protection, which means I can pick out what you can wear, and what you can’t, including your panties, is that understood?”

“B-but-”

Steve ignores you and tugs down the next strap on your right shoulder, his eyes are firmly on your cleavage, heaving with your panting. Fear, lust, hatred, anger, a chaos of emotions seized you more firmly than chains could’ve done, and you’re helpless as Steve pulls both straps down further, firmly enough that the dress pools at your waist.

“I want access to you, at all times, so if I want you in my office, your tits in my hands, or my cock in your mouth whilst I’m on a phone call or doing paperwork or even talking with my men, you come running, understood?” You barely feel it, but you see how your body reacts when his index finger traces gently over your nipple, “You’re a responsive thing, aren’t you, sweetheart? I wonder if you’re wet yet…”

Your legs push together at his murmur, and he chuckles. Your eyes close when you feel the fabric of the skirt being pulled up, cool air tickles at the top of your thighs,

“Look at me, sweetheart. Now.”

You open your eyes on a gasp, your palms sting from how hard you’re clenching your fists, nails digging in hard enough to hurt… but you can’t bring yourself to stop him as he pulls the skirt high enough that you’re exposed from the waist down,

“Open your legs for me,” he holds eye contact as you haltingly do as he asks, but he tuts and shakes his head, “wider. There. Good girl.” Your legs are now open shoulder width apart, and still he doesn’t look down, or move away from you. Your chest brushes against his, breathing in the same air, scented heavily by his cologne. It’s overwhelming… intoxicating…

“I want to know I can find you, pull you into a corner, and do this whenever I want,” Steve pushes his right hand between your legs and strokes carefully over your cunt, his own eyes fluttering closed when yours do, “God, you’re soft down here. Perfect.” He cups you, and before you can even think to protest, his middle finger slides inside you easily, “You’re soaking. And you’re tight, Lloyd must’ve had a tiny little cock- hey!” 

You’d tried to jerk away when Lloyd’s name was brought up, your movement halted when Steve grabs you by the neck and holds you still as he pushes his index finger inside you as well, 

“Didn’t I say you belong to me now, sweetheart? Repeat it after me. I. Belong. To. Steve.”

A groan comes from you instead when his thumb touches your clit, going in little circles that drive you crazy… but then they stop, and you force the words from your throat,

“I belong to you, Steve,”

“My tight little cunt, my tight little ass, my pretty tits and my perfect mouth… all belong to Steve. Say it.” You repeat what he instructs, a tear falls from your eye which Steve wipes away, “Don’t cry, sweetheart, I know it’s a lot, but you’ll love being with me. I knew it from the moment I saw you…” Steve pulls his fingers out then, leaving you whining but he ignores you, instead he goes to his knees and uses his thumbs to open you wide to his gaze, “So fucking pretty. You’re going to be a tight fit for my cock, but I’ll go slow, I promise.” He places a quick kiss to your clit, his tongue cold fire as he dips it inside your entrance to get a taste of you.

It’s like you’re caught in a trap as he stands up, unable to move as he opens his pants methodically, his eyes still firmly on your cunt. He pulls his cock out but you force yourself to look away, meeting his blue eyes instead. He smirks as he closes the final few inches between you, and takes your left leg and hooks it around his waist, “I’m not gonna wear protection when I fuck you. I want to feel every inch of you gripping me like a vice, morning noon and night,” His hand goes back to your throat as he starts to push inside, “look at me when I fuck you, sweetheart, I want to see how hard I ruin you in your eyes,”

His grip tightens slowly as he bottoms out, then releases as he pulls back, tightens as he thrusts again…

You’re caught in his gaze as he slowly fucks you, almost lost to everything until you hear the door to the dressing room open and hear the heels of your personal shopper on the marble floor, 

“Mr Rogers?”

You freeze completely, but Steve just smirks, “Hey Bridget, just helping my girl with her straps, we’ll be out soon,” his hand leaves your throat long enough so he can hold a finger to his lips in a ‘shhh’ gesture, then he quickly sticks his thumb in his mouth, sucking it until it’s wet before bringing it back down between your bodies and pressing against your clit. You jerk against the wall at the sensation, a squeak leaving your lips, but Steve talks over you, 

“I think we’ll take everything, Bridget, Y/N is going to wear this dress out of here so ring it up too, okay?”

“Absolutely, Mr Rogers-” Steve thrusts twice inside you, the sensation drowns out what the nice lady says next, but you hear her words falter, “is- is everything okay?”

“Fantastic. This… dress… it’s just real tight,” Steve circles your clit relentlessly, and your eyes flutter close for a moment, sensation taking over, but Steve stops suddenly and you open your eyes up on a gasp, “we’re okay here, Bridget, I just need to get this… dress… under my control.”

There was a pause. Steve still quietly fucks you, almost absentmindedly, a steady pace that drives you insane, your clits torture is resumed, and he holds your gaze, a silent threat not needed to be spoken that if you make a sound he’ll punish you. You can almost hear Bridget dithering. It must be obvious that you’re having sex in here, but if she says anything there’s every chance that Steve will just carry on anyway, he’ll leave with no consequences, without the shopping undoubtedly worth thousands, and Bridget won’t make any commission.

Finally, Bridget coughs, and you hear her leaving, the door to the dressing room closing firmly. The silence is deafening for two heartbeats, and then Steve pulls out, 

“Turn around, put your palms on the wall, and stick your ass out for me,” you do it because why fight it at this point, your life is now his within the space of less than twenty four hours, you don’t even flinch when you feel Steve pull your cheeks apart, or when his index finger grazes lightly over your asshole, “you’re pretty back here too, I’ll have to take a night off soon so I can prep you to fuck back there,” he pulls your hips towards him and pushes back inside on a grunt, your mouth drops open on a silent gasp. It’s not really pleasure, but it’s not quite painful either as he fills you back to the brim and ruts into you furiously, chasing his release. Your own pleasure comes and goes in waves, but before you can reach it Steve pulls out, spins you around and pushes you roughly to your knees, 

“Open your mouth,” You do as you’re told, and you just manage to take a breath before he pushes himself past your lips and attempts to fill your throat, “swallow what I give you, go on, good girl…” You try to, he tastes sweeter than Lloyd did, but you gag and some of Steve’s spend dribbles from your mouth to land on your chest. Steve stands over you as you recover from your coughing fit, a smirk on his face as he zips back up and runs a hand through his now dishevelled hair, 

“You better not have got any on that dress. Stand up.” You do so on shaking legs, meeting his eyes quickly before dropping your gaze again. You can feel his cum on your neck and at the top of your breasts, hoping against hope that none landed on the expensive dress… Steve hums, his fingers gently catch what you’d spilled and bring it down to your nipples, rolling them between his fingers and rubbing it into your skin until you’re dry again, “Now you’re going to smell like me all day. I don’t want you showering until after your shift.” Steve pulls your dress back down, and lifts the straps back over your arms as he talks, “And if you ever choke on what I give you again, I’ll spank your ass raw, do you understand me?”

You nod silently, and then gasp when you’re spun around roughly, your dress is pulled up again, and Steve lands two hard smacks against your ass. You almost cry out, more in shock than any real pain, but he pulls you back against him, his left hand wrapping immediately around your throat and making you look at him, 

“When I ask you a question, you answer with ‘yes, sir’. No nodding quietly, and no sass, or next time I’ll use my belt. Now, let’s try again. Do you understand the instructions I just gave you?”

You glare for half a second, but you nod, whispering the words that Steve wanted to hear, and he smiled, his grip loosened to a caress, “Good girl.”

You tug the dress down again, only slightly wincing as the material goes over the stinging flesh of your ass, and allow Steve to take your hand and lead you out of the dressing room and back into the store. You know you look exactly how you feel, thoroughly fucked and despondent, but no one will meet your eyes so you’re able to ignore them. The air is cold on your skin when Steve finally leads you out of the store and to the car that waited for you both, he held the door open for you and once again followed you into the back seat. The windows are tinted, but you can see the city lights beyond the dark screen, your eyes fixated on all that pretty twinkling, even when Steve pulled you to his side and angled your face to his for a kiss. You responded without thinking, you were trapped in a moving car with a man who’d just fucked you in a public space and threatened you with a belt, what else could you do?

“I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart, I promise.”

You smile as well as you could with his arms holding you tight to his side, your mind already occupied with thoughts of how you could escape him.

[mdemontespan1667]

I can't put into coherent words how much I love 🖤 this. Thank you for remembering me in your tags. It's always an absolute pleasure reading your writing .

Rightfully His…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 3028

Summary: You thought your husband was a kindhearted, gentleman who was deeply in love with you. When you catch your husband murdering someone in cold blood you freak out and run away from him. Bucky is in search of you and is determined to find you. Will he kill you or will he claim what is rightfully his?

Warnings: Smut, teasing, rough sex, choking, possessive, mention of killing the reader a few times, pet name (sweetheart), brief violence mentioned & minor character killed.

A/N 1: Thank you to my beta readers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo 💜 (any mistakes in spelling & grammar are my own. I wrote this on my phone)

A/N 2: divider by @whimsicalrogers & header by me.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

It’s been two and a half weeks since you ran away from him. The life you thought you wanted with Bucky was a huge shame. You thought James “Bucky” Barnes was this kind-hearted businessman who swept you off your feet. He was a gentleman, ambitious, caring, protective, and the love of your life. Whatever you wanted, Bucky made sure you had it. It wasn’t about the money and lifestyle though it was how he treated you. He would worship the ground you walked on if you let him. This man was deeply in love with you and you with him.

Now, it turns out he’s a mobster who kills people for a living. Five years of marriage down the drain because you weren’t supposed to be home yet. You had walked in on Bucky interrogating a man strapped to a chair and begging for his life. That life was cut short in front of you as you let out a scream. Bucky looked up at you with both anger and regret in his eyes. He tried to talk to you but you were scared of him and slept in one of the spare bedrooms. Fearful he might kill you next for what you saw. Not wanting to risk it the next day you left. 

You had taken money from your bank account, passport, and clothes and fled your home. Going from bus to bus you traveled as far as you could from him and decided to stay in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Keeping your head down you rented out a motel room. You kept to yourself and hardly ever left the room. This was a temporary plan as you tried to figure out how to leave the country. Anywhere in the world was better than here. 

Where would you go? Could you move on from this marriage knowing who your husband was? What if he tried to find you? The stress got to you as you ran to the toilet to throw up your lunch. Flushing the toilet you go to the sink to brush your teeth. Your mouth is now minty fresh as you ponder the one question that keeps haunting you. Would he kill you if he ever found you? 

Your hands clenched around the sink as you took in your reflection in the mirror. The bags under your eyes show that you haven’t slept much since heading out on your own. Looking away from the mirror you head into the small room and sit on the bed. Your heart mourns for what could have been between you and Bucky. Now that future is no longer a dream for you.

There was a knock at your door that sent fear down your spine. Could it be him? You shake your head at the thought. There is no way he found you in this little town. Again the knock rang out in your room and you slowly made your way to the door. Looking through the peephole you see a woman holding towels. You open it slowly and are greeted by a friendly voice. 

“I have fresh towels for you hun. I know it’s been a few days since you switched them out.” She reached out to give them to you and politely you took them.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” you mumbled. 

“If you need anything hun you just call down to the front desk and we will get it for you.” The lady turned around and started to push her cart to the next room.

You closed the door and set the towels down on the towel rack in the bathroom. A knock on your door rang out again and you wondered what she wanted now. Huffing you walked to the door and opened it up. There in front of you was your husband, Bucky. He placed a finger to your mouth to shush you. His deep blue eyes stared into your soul as he smiled at you.

“Hello, my beautiful wife. Happy to see me?” He chuckled as you stared at him in shock.

Bucky started to push his way into the room and shut the door. You wanted to scream for help but it died on your tongue. You walked backward until your legs hit the bed and you sat down, tears falling from your eyes. This couldn’t be real. How did he find you?

Bucky took in your features and sighed. He knew you were tired from running for the last two-plus weeks. He could tell you were scared of him and that didn’t help what he was feeling inside. Bucky wanted to yell at you and curse you for leaving him. But he knew you were too frail to take his anger. So he kneeled in front of you and grabbed your hand. 

“Do you know why I’m here sweetheart?” 

Slowly you nodded your head. “T-To kill me?” The tears continued to fall from your eyes as he just stared at you. There was nowhere to run anymore. This was the end of the line for you. 

There was a long silence between you both before he said anything. “As tempting as that is, no, I’m not here to kill you sweetheart. I’m here to take you home with me.”

You looked at him confused by what he said. “But I thought… I mean I saw you kill someone. Don’t mobsters like to tie up loose ends and get rid of witnesses?”

Bucky couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips. “Most of the time, yes. But what you witnessed that’s on me for bringing my work home. Do you know why that man was murdered?”

You shook your head no. Did you even want to know at this point? The less you knew the better it was for you.

Wiping the tears that continued to fall from your eyes, Bucky leaned in to kiss your forehead. “That man wanted to kill you. The thought of you being taken from me forever sent me in a rage. You’re my wife and I love you with every breath I take. I tortured that man until I got him to squeal like the pig he was. His reasoning to kill you was to hurt me and the empire that I’ve built. But I vowed to protect you on our wedding day and it still holds true today. I would rather die than see you hurt on my watch. So please understand why I did it. It was all for you.”

His words started to make you feel sick again. Someone wanted you to die? But who? You were merely a housewife. However, that didn’t seem true anymore. You were the housewife of a mobster who ran an empire in New York. He not only loved you deeply but he also killed for you. Killed in the name of love. 

“Bucky, I don’t know what to say. This is all too much for me to take in. So you just regularly kill people who threaten me? Was this the only guy or have there been more?”

He took a deep breath and exhaled. “This wasn’t the first and probably won’t be the last. It’s the head of a rival mob that wants you dead. That’s why you need to come with me so I can protect you. Can’t you see I need you by my side? I’m asking you to trust me and follow me out of here before someone gets to you.”

“How can I trust you Bucky? You lied about your work all these years and pretended to be someone else. It’s like I don’t even know you. How do I know this isn’t a lie to get me to leave with you so you can kill me?”

Your breaths start to pick up as you start to hyperventilate. You could feel the familiar panic attack start to hit. This was not how you saw this playing out. Bucky helped you with your breathing exercises to slowly calm you down. 

Bucky looked at you seriously. “You can trust me 'cause I’m your husband. I only lied about my job but that was to protect you. I see now I should have been honest with you from the beginning. But you do know me, sweetheart. I’m still the same man that you married. Please stop thinking I’m going to kill you. That breaks my heart every time you bring it up.”

Bucky stands up now and helps you to your feet. “We need to leave now, please.” He all but begs you. 

Catching your breath you look for your bag on the table and start to gather all the clothes and items you brought with you. Within minutes you are packed and Bucky goes to the front door and opens it. His best friend and right-hand man, Steve, looks back at him.

“The coast is clear, boss. Though I’m getting word someone is on their way here now.” 

Bucky looks back at you with his hand outstretched. “Come on, let's go home.”

Hearing what Steve said had you holding Bucky’s hand and walking quickly out of the room. Within seconds you are in a black SUV and being whisked away to the private airport just outside of town. Your hand clenched against his as you reached the airport. There was a private jet waiting on the tarmac as you both walked hand in hand and got on the plane. Within moments the plane was in the sky and you were both heading back to New York.

Exhausted from an emotional standpoint you found yourself in Bucky’s lap on the plane with your head under his chin sleeping peacefully. Steve sat in a seat opposite him and smiled at his friend. “I hope you’re right about this boss.”

When the plane landed Bucky woke you up gently by kissing your temple. Your eyes blinked a few times as you stretched your arms over your head. Bucky grabbed your hand again and you both exited the plane where another SUV was waiting to take you home. Driving back home the SUV pulled up to your house on the outskirts of the city. Exiting the SUV you and Bucky walked up the steps and entered the front door. It was exactly how you left it.

“I’m going to head to the bedroom so I can soak in the tub before bed. Is that alright with you?” You questioned, taking your husband's form in.

“Yes, sweetheart, that’s fine with me. I will be up in a minute or two.”

As you climbed the stairs you headed toward the bedroom and shut the door.

Steve watched you both in silence and didn’t speak until you were out of sight. “Do you think it’s smart bringing her back? She could be a liability. Maybe you should have stuck with your original plan after she left.”

Bucky turned to his friend and backhanded him causing Steve’s face to whip to the side. “The decision has been made and she is home now. I can’t live without her. Maybe if you found love Steven you would understand my decision.”

Heading up the stairs Bucky starts to think things out. Truth is it didn’t take them the full two and a half weeks to find you. As soon as you left New York there was a tail on you. Bucky always made sure someone was watching you at all times. So the first day you stepped into that little town he was notified of your well-being. He gave you two weeks to decide what you wanted to do. Were you going to fly and have him chase you around the globe or were you going to come quietly back home to him? Thankfully, you chose right, and now he has you back in his life again. Plus with you going to learn to trust him again he wouldn’t have to kill you after all. Yes, he contemplated it when you first left but his dark heart was against it from the start. He did love you and couldn’t wait to start a family with you. Now that you know the truth he could make you his Queen.

Walking into the bedroom he closed the door behind him. He could see you in the tub from where he stood and licked his lips. You were always a temptress to him and made him weak in the knees. Bucky was gonna make you his tonight to be sure you were never leaving him again. Slowly he started to undress as he made his way to the bathroom. By the time he stood beside the tub, his cock was rock hard. You stared up at him with doe eyes and exhaled with how big and thick his cock was standing at attention. It was something that still had you aching for him, for that stretch between your legs. 

“Sit forward sweetheart so I can sit behind you. I want to help you relax.”

You did as he said and made room for him to sit down. The tub was huge and could sit you both comfortably. Once he got seated he pulled your back to his chest and kissed your shoulder. His hands started to wander your body as you started making soft noises of pleasure. Every gasp and hitched breath made him want to take you more. But for now, he knew you needed this first to relax your mind, body, and spirit. He caressed your breasts and pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. You arched against him moaning his name softly as his right hand descended your body and to his favorite spot between your legs. His fingers found your clit and started to rub it in slow circles making you whine cause you needed more pressure there. The more he teased you the more you whined against his shoulder. This is how he liked you, a moaning mess who begged for what she needed. 

“Please Bucky, I need you. I have to have you inside me.” Your hips moved to the way he was working you and suddenly he stopped, making you huff in frustration.

“I love it when you beg for me. If I’m going to take you it will be in our bed where I can fuck you like I hate you.” He growled out at you. 

Draining the tub both you and Bucky got out and quickly dried off. Heading to the bedroom Bucky grabbed you by the back of the neck and led you to the king-size bed. Reaching the bed he pushed you face down and grabbed your hips. Before you could say anything Bucky had thrusted his long, thick cock into you hard drawing out a pornographic moan from you. His pace was hard as he fucked you deeply. Your hands dig into the sheets as your husband takes you like a useless whore. His fingers dig harder into your hips as he groans above you.

“Take my cock. Every fucking inch of it.” He breathed out over and over. 

“Fuck, yes, Bucky. More…” you begged. 

Bucky’s left-hand moves to your clit and harshly starts rubbing it. In a matter of seconds, you are moaning his name loud for all to hear. Your walls clenching around him almost taking him over that hurdle but he quickly pulls out and flips you over to your back. He pushes you up the bed a little and re-enters you in one painful thrust. Your legs are around his trim waist while he is battering your pussy using you for his pleasure. His right-hand grabs your neck and starts choking you. Your hands fly up to his hand and try to alleviate the pressure on your neck.

“This pussy is mine. You are mine.” He growls out at you. “If you ever leave me again I swear no one will ever find your body. Do you understand me? Nod your pretty head if you understand.”

You frantically nod your head to the best of your ability. As Bucky pounds into your pussy over and over again. After a few punishing thrusts, Bucky feels your body tense around him as you silently scream your release this time taking Bucky with you.  Bucky lets your throat go as he cums with a roar painting your insides with his release.

You gasp for air while Bucky pulls out of you and collapses next to you on his side. The only sound in the room is you both panting in and out. Sex was always like this between you both, rough, hard, and exhilarating. But when he said no one would find your body if you ever left again made you nervous. Was he just saying things in the heat of the moment as usual? It had to have been ‘cause he promised never to hurt you. 

Bucky got up to clean himself off first then returned to the bedroom with a washcloth to clean you up. He was humming when you both crawled under the blankets to get ready for bed. You clung to his side as you rested your head on his chest. Bucky just wrapped you up in his arms and held you. 

“No one will ever mess with you ever again my love. For if they do they will feel the wrath of me pouring down upon them ten times over. You are my lover, my wife, my everything, and nothing will ever tear us apart again.”

“Yes, Bucky.” A part of you loved knowing he would always protect you. That he had the means to do so. The other part was terrified of what this man could do to not only his enemies but to you. Now you were too scared to leave his side ever again. 

You had drifted off to sleep as Bucky started to put a plan in place if you ever left him again. The house did have a nice basement that he could convert into a living area to lock you away from the world. He would never be without you again. I mean you’re rightfully his.

Updated taglist 2024

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@floralwsloki

@thelonelywitchandthelonelytides

@winterslove1917

[mdemontespan1667]

"Fuck you Walsh," you whispered.

Shane removed his "Sheriff's Dept" emblazoned baseball hat, tossing it casually on the couch.

"Good idea."

[mdemontespan1667]

Me: Hasn't written anything in 2 years

Me: Has a million ideas

Me: Starts writing DARK Shane Walsh pre-TWD.

Me: Spends hours looking up specific information for the tiniest details that have no bearing on the actual fic.

Me: Why are you like this 😭

[mdemontespan1667]

All up in my feels at work in the best way possible ❤️

Need You Now

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky thinks about the hurt he caused you as he is left with memories of happier times. Does he get a second chance at life with you?

Warning: Angst, sadness, drinking, hope?

Word Count: 1125

A/N: Thank you to my beta readers @pigwidgeonxo​ & @lfnr-blog-blog-blog​ & @music-culture-mythology (any mistakes on spelling & grammar are my own. Did this on my phone)

A/N 2: This used to be a Dean Winchester fic but since I write for Marvel only I'm switching this to a Bucky Barnes fic.

A/N 3: Song fic, Need You Now by Lady Antebellum. Lyrics in Bold.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere else besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts then it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

Bucky is such a fool. He let the one person he loves the most leave after an argument. He said a lot of hateful things to push you away and it seems that this time it might be for good. Why couldn’t he see that he deserved a life away from constantly going on missions? You’re willing to settle down with him and give him the normal life that he always dreamed of. Now he is haunted by pictures of you both together in happier times scattered everywhere. His phone is in his hand ready to dial your number but would you pick it up? Has he crossed your mind as you have with him? Screw it, he dials your number and lets it ring. But you don’t pick up. God, he was such a fool to let you go. 

Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor

Reaching for the phone 'cause I can't fight it anymore

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?

For me, it happens all the time

Bucky looks at the clock and sees that it’s a quarter after one in the morning. The feeling of loneliness swarms over him as he drinks his whiskey slowly. He thinks back to the sadness in your eyes when you ask him, “Are you sure you want this?” God, no he didn’t want this to end but he was too proud of a man to admit it. Looking at the locked screen on his phone he sees your smiling face. He wants to call again, though a part of him tells himself to let you go so you can be happy. Bucky doesn’t know what he’ll do without you but if this is what a broken heart feels like he never wants to feel it again. The other part of him is screaming that he needs you. He needs to see your smiling face, hear your laughter, and taste your lips. What he would give to have you come through that door again and tell him you can’t live without him. Though if he was honest he doesn’t know how he is going to live without you. Dialing your number again he silently prays that you will pick the phone up but it goes to voicemail. 

It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now

Said I wouldn't call but I've lost all control and I need you now

And I don't know how I can do without

I just need you now

Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door

Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?

For me, it happens all the time

Bucky pours another glass of whiskey as he thinks about the life you could have had together. You both had talked about having a family one day and getting that little house with a yard big enough for a dog. Yes, that was the life that could have been. But it’s all a distant memory now. He should have never allowed going on missions so much to be the deal breaker between you both. He deserves a chance at a normal life. Grabbing the glass of whiskey he downs it in one gulp. Bucky promised he wouldn’t call but fuck it. While he has the courage he quickly dials your number and listens while it rings. After the fifth time ringing, it goes to voicemail.  Dammit, he screwed up. He just hopes that you’re sleeping and not ignoring his call. Maybe he should try to sleep as he is feeling a little buzzed. Though how could he sleep knowing you won’t be there in the morning? As Bucky leans back on the couch he tells himself he would rather have these hurt feelings than feel empty inside. Unbeknownst to him, his finger dials your number again. 

It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now

Said I wouldn't call but I've lost all control and I need you now

And I don't know how I can do without

I just need you now

Guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all

It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now

And I said I wouldn't call but I'm a little drunk and I need you now

And I don't know how I can do without

I just need you now

Bucky shut his eyes for a few minutes and woke up to someone shaking him. He groans his disapproval and slowly opens his eyes. There you are staring at him with a sad smile on your face.

“Bucky, I saw you called me several times. Is everything okay?” You sound concerned as you ask him. He looks awful and smells heavily of whiskey. You notice the pictures of you both are scattered everywhere.

He looked over to the clock on the wall and it was just after three in the morning. You came over this late? “I’m fine, sweetheart. I was just drinking some whiskey. No need to worry about me.”

“Does this have anything to do with the argument we had?” You question him as you look at how much whiskey is missing from the bottle. 

He sighs. “No, yes, maybe. I just wanted you to know I didn’t mean anything that I said earlier. I don’t know what I would do without you in my life. I want the future we talked about. I want out of the Avengers if you still want to as well. Just say the word and it’s done.”

Tears spill down your cheeks as you nod your head. “I do want that but Bucky you hurt me. Saying you don’t want kids…”

“I was an idiot. I do want them with you. I want the house, the yard, everything. Just give me a chance to prove myself to you.”

A small smile flashes across your face. “Well, I hope you’re serious because Bucky I’m pregnant.”

Bucky sits up quickly and pulls you into his lap. He kisses you passionately, tongues slowly dancing together as you grip him harder against you. When he pulled away so you could both breathe he let out a chuckle. “I’m so freaking happy.” Finally, everything is going to be alright. You need each other and so both of you vow to never make drastic decisions again. Today is the beginning of your forever, just the three of you. 

***

@americasass81

@astheskycries

@awesomerextyphoon

@caffiend-queen

@caplanbuckybarnes

@denisemarieangelina

@fictional-affairs

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@get0verit

@hollybee8917

@joannie95

@jobean12-blog

@jtargaryen18

@jvanilly

@labella420

@lfnr-blog-blog-blog

@madscape

@mdemontespan1667

@missvelvetsstuff

@mrsmischief209

@mycrazyasslikestoread

@nekoannie-chan

@noellez-best-life23

@notyourtypicalrose

@patzammit

@princessofdarkwinter

@rayofdawnworld

@spectre-posts

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@talia-rumlow

@thefallenbibliophilequote

@what-is-your-plan-today

@wolfsmom1

[mdemontespan1667]

Reblogging this to read later cause, just like everything else @boxofbonesfic writes, it's going to be deliciously and delightfully DARK 🖤

Title: Tonality

Pairing: Prince!Geralt x Princess!Reader

Summary: “The white wolf wants you. He’ll have no other.” As you grieve the loss of your father, your mother marries the king. Whilst you struggle to acclimate to your new life, you begin to suspect the interest your new brother has in you is less than familial.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Darkfic, Step-cest, Medieval/GoT inspired AU, (Future)Smut, Dubcon/Noncon, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: “she doesn’t even go here”— i do now! i wanted to branch out a little bit, so…my this is my first Witcher fic, hopefully of many! i hope you all enjoy. mind the warnings, and please don’t hesitate to let me know if you feel i’ve missed a warning. enjoy! 😊🥰

“And should anyone find reason these two should not be joined, in the eyes of Gods and men?” The priest’s voice echoes loudly throughout the throne room, underscored by a silence so deep you are certain you would hear even the barest of whispers. There are no objections, of course, save for the ones you swallow yourself like bitter acid. You watch, your hands clasped respectfully as he takes your mother’s left hand and King Vesemir’s right, binding them together with crimson ribbon. 

“Then let them be bound.” 

Keep reading

[mdemontespan1667]

MASTERLIST

UPDATED 11/13/2022 18+ ONLY

CURTIS EVERETT

-WHERE YOU BELONG (DARK)

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

-NOT SO SILENT NIGHT (DARK)

STEVE ROGERS / BUCKY BARNES

-ANYTHING (DARK)

PART ONE

PART TWO

-RULES

BUCKY BARNES

-THE TIES THAT BIND

-WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN (AU)

-THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR WALKING

STEVE ROGERS

-CAPTIVE (DARK)(WIP)

PART ONE

PART TWO

-HELP ME

-THE GIFT

-THE ARGUMENT

-THE BET

-IN THE FLESH (DARK READER)

-ONE NIGHT (DARK)

-SOME OTHER NIGHT (DARK)

-STRONG ENOUGH (DARK)

-TWAS THE NIGHT (DARK)

-THE LESSON (DARK)

-MINE (DARK READER)

-THE TROUBLE WITH COYOTES (DARK)

GERALT

-HIS WICKED WAYS (DARK) (WIP)

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

LOKI

-DESTINY (DARK)

ROBERT PRONGE

-THE FLIP SIDE (DARK)

ANDY BARBER (COMING SOON)

-THE MISADVENTURES OF MRS ANDY BARBER (DARK)

WALTER MARSHALL

-HUNGER (DARK VAMPIRE AU)

PART ONE

PART TWO

LLOYD HANSEN

-A NIGHT TO REMEMBER

SHANE WALSH

-AND I FEEL FINE (MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE/TRUCKS AU)

CROSSOVERS

-BLIND SPOT (NIGHT HUNTER AU FEATURING WALTER MARSHALL, STEVE ROGERS, BUCKY BARNES AND READER)

THE LONG WALK (PART ONE-DARK) (1)

JANE DOE (2)

STUPID GIRL (SOFT DARK) (3) (COMING SOON)

[mdemontespan1667]

The tension is killing me

Every Breath You Take (3)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, secret admirer trope, voyeurism

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every Breath You take (2)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Daylight brings new excitement. 

Your breakfast tasted a little tastier. The air seems to be a little warmer. And the world looks brighter in general.

You smile when you enter the building to start your workday. It’s the first time you feel happy to be here. Something has changed. 

You can’t describe it, but there’s this feeling inside your chest making your heart flutter.

“Y/N, morning,” your colleague chirps and points at your desk. “There was a delivery for you this morning. I signed for you, sweetie.”

“A delivery?” You look at your desk, feeling your heart flutter even harder. There’s a huge bouquet of lilies of the valley and a Pusheen plush. “OH! How’d they know I love Pusheen? Aw, and it’s holding a tiny bear too.”

“I think you’ve got a secret admirer,” your colleague points at the card next to the flowers. “Uh-I had to read the card to know it’s for you.”

You frown. She had to sign for the delivery. If you wanted to, you could call her out, and tell her to not read the card but it’s too late, and you’re so happy someone sent you the flowers and the plush to get mad at her.

“They called themselves B.,” she grabs the card to read it for you. “For the loveliest doll I’ve ever seen. Yours, B.” She huffs as you snatch the card out of her hands to reread the lines. “How can he know that you love lilies of the valleys?”

“I don’t know,” you sniff at the flowers and sigh. “He’s a silent admirer. Maybe he knows me because he’s not a stranger. You know, someone I have known for years.”

“I bet he’s a creep,” she suddenly says. “You should be careful.”

You glare at her. “Why? He sent me flowers and a plush. This doesn’t mean my secret admirer is a creep. Sick creep sent you dick pics or shit. Not nice things.”

“Just tell this to yourself. You must be desperate to be happy about a stalker,” she snaps at you, suddenly not so friendly anymore.” While she turns on her heels you call her a bitch in your head.

“Sweet Pushie, look at you,” you grab the plush and nuzzle it. It smells like cologne, and you sigh. “You’re so stinking cute. No man buying you can be a bad guy.”

“Alpine, look,” Bucky excitedly watches you enter your apartment. You’re carrying the flowers in your hand and the plush is tugged under your arm. “She smiles, Alpine! Look! Mommy smiles.”

He grins at his cat. “I told you she’s going to love the flowers. Roses are boring. Our girl loves lilies of the valleys. Next time, I’ll get her daisies. She’s got some pressed in the big books in the back of her bookshelf.”

Alpine is not impressed. The furball gets comfortable on Bucky’s lap. He meows and goes back to sleep. He’s well-fed and tired.

Bucky watches you walk inside your bedroom to redress. He covers his eyes like a gentleman and waits for you to walk inside the living room to get comfortable on your couch. 

It doesn’t take long before you snuggle into your pillow and wrap a blanket around you. The new plush in your arms you watch your favorite new show.

“Hmm…” he dips his head to find out what you’re watching today. Of course, he hacked into your accounts too. Well, he paid someone to help him hack into your accounts. “The invitation. Sounds…frightening, doll. You shouldn’t watch this kind of movie while being alone.”

Bucky sits a little straight. “Alpine, we need to watch over our doll tonight. We don’t want her to be scared after she watches the movie.”

Tonight, you go to your bedroom, instead of falling asleep in the living room. 

You yawn and rub your eyes. After your movie marathon, you are rather tired and ready to fall asleep while walking.

You yawn and fall onto your bed, to snuggle with your new plush. It smells so good, and you don’t want to miss having it in your arms.

“She doesn’t take good care of herself,” Bucky whispers while covering you with a blanket. He runs his hand over your hair and sighs. 

Bucky had to put something in your water to make sure he could enter your apartment and take care of you at night. How he wishes he could stay and wrap you in his arms. But it’s too soon, and you’d only get scared.

Instead of giving in to his dreams, he refilled your fridge and put a glass of water on your nightstand. He even set your alarm to make sure you’ll make it in time for work.

“Sleep well, my sweet doll,” he kisses your temple and retreats. If he stays for a little longer he’ll be tempted to watch you sleep. “I must go now. If you need me, I’ll be there. You’ll always be safe.”

Bucky longingly looks at you for a moment. He smiles, knowing you will wake up, refreshed and happy. He’ll make sure of it…

The Winter Soldier to his enemies. Bucky to his friends.

No friends. No family. No life.

That was your secret admirer’s life until he found you. Now he has something to look forward to. He can pick you up from work, bring you home, and watch over you for the rest of the night.

Bucky even made plans for the future. He never had plans for the future since Hydra captured him. But now, with you in his life, he has a reason to make plans and to live.

Tags in reblog.

[mdemontespan1667]

Love the build up❤️

Every Breath You Take (2)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Bucky x Alpine (platonic)

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, bitchy boss, secret admirer trope, voyeurism, violence, threats

A/N: We start slowly to get to know them and their backstory. In this part, we will get to know Y/N better.

A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every Breath You take (1)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Bucky smirks when the man raises his hands in surrender. He tried to be a good man, but he couldn’t let anyone hurt you. This man threatened to fire you and called you a dumb bimbo.

“What have I done to you?” Your boss begs while facing a beyond angry super-soldier. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Bucky tilts his head and smirks behind his stocking mask. “You know what you did.” He growls and points the tip of his knife at the man’s chest. “The question is, do you regret your sins?”

“Sins?” He nervously shifts from one foot to the other. Your boss glances around his office, wondering if he can make it past his attacker and through the door. “I don’t know what you are talking about! Do you want money? I can pay you.”

“Money?” Bucky snorts. “People like you believe they get away with everything only because they are wealthy. I won’t let you get away with your sins. If you ever hurt her again, I’ll cut you open.”

Your boss is shaking in fear. His legs are about to give when Bucky wraps his metal hand around your boss’s throat. 

Bucky slams him into the wall and leans closer to inhale the fear waving off your boss’s body deeply. He presses the tip of his favorite knife into your boss’s chest, a warning to not mess with him. 

“If you ever even look at her the wrong way, I’ll come back and finish what I started today,” Bucky whispers in your boss’s ear. “Y/N Y/L/N is off limits. You hurt her, I hurt you. You yell at her; I’ll make your ears bleed. You touch her…well you don’t want to know what happens if you ever put your hands on my girl.”

“Y/N?” Your boss splutters. “She … I didn’t … it was …a misunderstanding. I was stressed and maybe I lost my countenance…I’m sorry. It will never happen again.”

“Good.”

Bucky drops his hand from your boss’s throat. He steps away and looks at the man messing with you up and down. “Don’t make me come back.”

“I won’t,” your boss sniffs. He tugs at his now wet pants, ashamed that Bucky scared him so much that he wet himself. 

“If you tell her about tonight, you will die. Y/N can never know,” Bucky points his knife at your boss. “This is your first and final warning.”

Before your boss can reply, Bucky is gone. Like a shadow, or a nightmare you wake from. Your boss sinks to his knees and starts to cry. 

“Morning,” you chirp as you walk inside the building. You greet the receptionist and smile as they wave back. “How are you today, Rodney?”

Rodney and you fall into an easy conversation. You giggle at something he said but freeze when your boss walks toward you and Rodney. He looks a little pale this morning and you wonder if he’s sick. 

“Good morning,” your boss nods at you and forces a smile on his face. He clears his throat and drops his gaze. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior over the last weeks. I was stressed, but this is no excuse for what I said.”

“Oh, I—” You’re taken aback by your boss's sudden change in demeanor. What has gotten into him? This is so unlike him, and you wonder what caused his behavioral changes. “I…I should head to my desk. Have a good day.”

“You accept my apologies, right?” He wrings his hands and pleadingly looks at you. Maybe someone reported him to HR, and he is trying to make amends now. “Please, I need to hear it.”

“We all make mistakes sometimes,” you hastily reply. “I accept your apologies, Sir. It was very nice of you to admit your mistake. Again, have a good day.”

You walk away to start the day. There is no time to analyze your boss’s behavior. Whatever made him change, it must’ve been traumatic. He looked scared when he looked at you.

Bucky smiles. “She looks happier today, Alpine,” he explains to his cat. “I think her boss got the message and apologized. Good for him. I’d hate to pay him another visit and to bring more knives.”

Alpine looks up at his owner and meows loudly. “I know,” Bucky sighs and pats the cat’s head. “I didn’t like hurting that man. Though, it had to be done. He would’ve hurt our girl again. I had to stop him.”

While you snuggle into your favorite blanket and switch the TV on, Bucky leans back in his armchair and sighs happily. The cameras he installed in your home make things so much easier for him.

He can watch you in every room via the monitors hanging on his walls. Well, in almost every room. James Buchanan Barnes is not a creep. He didn’t install a camera in your bathroom. 

“Do you think we should send her some flowers?” He wonders. “Or is it too soon?” Bucky rubs his chin. “No. Flowers are nice. She’ll be over the moon knowing that there is someone out there, admiring her beauty and grace.”

Alpine stretches and purrs. He presses his paws into Bucky’s thighs before lying back down. “Food was good, huh?” Bucky looks down at his cat. The white furball purrs loudly. “Your belly is full, and now we can watch our girl.”

You yawn. It’s getting late, but you are too tired to get up from the sofa. Rolling to your side you decide to sleep on your couch.

Your eyes flutter shut, and you snuggle into your favorite pillow. Sleep consumes you soon after, and you dream of a more interesting life than the one you are living at the moment.

The annoying sound of your alarm wakes you from your dream. You blink your eyes open and sigh. Just one more day and then it’s weekend.

As you sit up on your bed you frown. Last night you fell asleep on your couch. You’re sure you didn’t get up and walk inside your bedroom. 

But here you are, tugged in bed and there is even a glass of water on your nightstand. You usually forget to put a glass on the nightstand, and you didn’t set the alarm last night either.

How can this be? Did you sleepwalk? Maybe you were so tired you forgot that you went to bed last night.

You shrug. It’s time to get up and start a new day. There is no time to waste to find out how you got into your bed last night…  

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[mdemontespan1667]

Yup. It's good

Every Breath You take (1)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Bucky x Alpine (platonic)

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, bitchy boss, secret admirer trope, voyeurism

A/N: We start slowly to get to know them and their backstory. In this part, we will get to know Y/N better.

A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (Prologue)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

You’re chewing on your lower lip, humming at something your boss said. He’s boring as hell and so demanding. With his hands on his hips, he glares at your lunch as if he wants to turn it to ashes.

All you want to do is tell him to leave you alone during lunch break. You’re just too polite and nice to do so. 

He can bug you during work time, but not in the precious moments you use to catch up on the latest gossip on your phone. 

You were about to read about an affair Tony Stark had with an intern. Fake news, you’re fairly sure, but it’s still entertaining reading all the furious and stupid comments.

“Sure,” you nod and make a mental note, hopefully not forgetting about his next demand before you reach your desk to write it down. “Right after my lunch break.” You point out and give him a fake smile.

“You better hurry,” he snaps at you and storms off. “If not, you can look for a new job.”

He cannot fire you per se. Your boss is not as important as he thinks he is. One word to the HR and he can kiss his ass goodbye.

You’re just indifferent when it comes to your boss and his antics. You prefer to ignore his sometimes nasty comments.

The world is cold and unfriendly enough. You don’t want to be the kind of person adding more hatred to this world.

Bucky aimlessly strolls through the streets. He prepared everything for tonight, and now he’s a little lost because you are still at work.

It became his obsession to make sure you came home safely. He’d kill the time, window shopping or imagining how’d feel to hold your hand.

Time. Bucky needs more time to prepare himself to meet you for real. 

He wants your first date to be perfect. Therefore, he must watch you a little longer to get to know you better. – At least that’s how he justifies he’s following you like a shadow for the better of three weeks.

Bucky stops in front of your favorite bookstore, he looks out the window, wondering if he should buy you a book and gift it to you this week, or wait a little longer. 

He shakes his head. No. Bucky will start with the usual gift. Flowers. He saw you carry flowers inside your apartment over the last weeks more than once.

You love flowers, and he will find out which ones you love the most. Bucky doesn’t want to gift you the wrong flowers and disappoint you.

He already has a plan. According to your schedule – which he knows by heart – you will go to the little café close to your home. The perfect opportunity to sneak inside your apartment and get to know you even better.

Bucky will take any chance to make you see he’s more than his bad reputation. To the people out there he’s still the Winter Soldier. He doesn’t want you to think the same about him.

All he wants is to keep you safe and happy. Bucky’s new mission is the most important one he ever had. 

For today, he will wait patiently to follow you home, making sure you’re safe. There are many dangerous people out there, wanting to hurt or take advantage of a lovely person like you.

“Phew, home sweet home,” you sigh and plop down onto your sofa. You’re tired, and hungry and would kill to have someone to massage your shoulders. “What a shitty day.”

You hate to get back up, but you need a shower and search your fridge to find anything eatable. Your boss made sure you were working overtime, and you didn’t have the energy left to buy groceries.

Slowly getting back up, you sigh. You’d love to fall asleep right here on the couch, but it won’t do you any good.

Instead of sleeping, you walk out of the living room to have a shower. There’s still enough time left to watch your favorite show and eat leftovers from your fridge.

“She looks tired,” Bucky worriedly watches you with his binoculars when you walk back inside your living room. You yawn and rub your tired eyes. “She’s wearing cute pajamas, Alpine.”

Your secret admirer swoons. “Isn’t our girl beautiful?” He dips his head to look at Alpine sitting on his lap. The white cat meows and rubs his cheek into Bucky’s shirt. “She’ll be such a good mommy for you.”

Bucky pats Alpine’s head, gently murmuring the cat’s name. Alpine is his only companion, and he wants the cat to love you too.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers while lifting the binoculars to his eyes again, “she’s a wonderful and kind person. Y/N will love you too.”

Bucky inhales deeply as he presses your shirt to his nose. He’d love to take it with him, but for now, the top and panties he found under your bed must do. Bucky cannot risk taking more of your things right now.

In due time, he will take more of your things to bring them to the house he plans to buy for you and him. He’s already ahead of his plans, but Bucky never felt like this again. Not since Hydra turned him into a monster everyone still fears.

“Soon,” he hums and walks around your bedroom. Bucky takes his time, and even risks lying in your bed for a moment. He sniffs at your pillow, inhaling your scent deeply. 

Bucky sighs. He can’t risk leaving his scent on your sheets and must slip out of your bed too soon for his liking.

Time. He needs more time. Bucky tells himself all over again. He cannot risk scaring you off, or that you’ll be afraid of him.

He’s a protector, not a villain.

Bucky slowly walks out of your bedroom and inside your bathroom. He wants to know more about the products you like, and maybe sniff at your perfume too.

You’re still at work, and he has all the time in the world before he will pick you up from work and bring you home. In his mind. – He cannot turn up at your workplace and offer you a ride home. Not yet.

Bucky lurks around the corner to watch you walk out of the building. You’re angrily wiping your eyes and even cussing. Something you never did before.

“Who hurt you, doll?” He asks himself, and the person delivers the answer on a silver plate.

Your boss storms after you, calling you a dumb bimbo while throwing a tantrum like a man-child. 

Bucky squares his jaw. He clenches and unclenches his metal fist, ready to beat your boss into a bloody pulp.

No—not now. Not here. He will bring you home first and come back. Bucky will avenge you, and make sure your boss will never dare to raise his voice around you again.

Every Breath You Take (2)

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[mdemontespan1667]

This is gonna be good

Every breath you take (Prologue)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time

A/N: We start slow to get to know them and their backstory. In this part it's Bucky.

A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

James Buchanan Barnes lost so much in his life that he doesn’t even know how he keeps on going. 

He lost his family. 

He lost his life. 

He lost his arm.

He lost his freedom. 

He lost himself. 

He lost his best friend. Steve Rogers - the only person connecting his past with his present. The one promising him till the end of the line. Well, the line wasn’t very long he thinks ever so often.

He walks the streets in a place he doesn’t recognize anymore. In a world that is so different from the one he used to know.

Before Hydra everything was simple.

Now, strangers stare at him, whispering behind his back while others ignore him. 

Bucky is not the most social person. He mostly stays to himself. Who wants to befriend the former winter soldier anyway? 

In his opinion, it’s for the best to not even try. This doesn’t mean that he never feels lonely. He often strolls through town and watches people with their families.

Bucky wishes he could’ve someone by his side too. A woman who doesn’t judge him for his past, or for the issues he still has.

How does a super-soldier and former brainwashed killer find such a woman? 

No woman will ever let him protect and spoil her. That’s all he wants. Find a pretty doll to take care of.

“Coffee. Black,” Bucky gruffly tells the barista his order. All the different drinks on their menu confuse the super-soldier. Why drink an iced coffee with some crazy flavor if you can have the best drink in the world? Black coffee.

The barista smiles at him. Her cheeks dimple and she batts her long fake lashes when Bucky holds her gaze for a moment.

“Thanks,” he pays and tips her well. Bucky may be a lot of things, but he isn’t the kind of person who does not appreciate other people’s work.

“Have a good day,” the woman chirps when he turns around to leave the cafe. Bucky doesn’t react. He stops in his tracks as someone else catches his attention. 

“Doll,” Bucky gasps loudly. The woman passing the coffee shop by is the one he almost ran into last month. This must be fate. Right? 

He walks out of the coffee shop, to follow the woman. She’s greeting the elderly owner of the bookstore Bucky discovered a few weeks ago. 

The man immediately smiles and straightens his back. He makes a joke and calls her by her name. “Hello Y/N!” The man says and waves back.

“Y/N,” Bucky murmurs your name. “Wow…doll…” He’s taken aback. His heart sped up for a second seeing you again. Now that he has heard your voice, he wants it to be the only sound he’ll hear for the rest of his life.

He strolls past the bookstore and follows you along the street. Whenever you stop to look at the window display at the different stores you must pass by to reach your home, he stops too and pretends to be interested in the products he’ll never buy.

At the end of the street, Bucky tilts his head to watch you walk away. He’ll wait a little longer to follow you. The experienced super-soldier doesn’t want to draw attention toward him. He doesn't want to scare you off. All he wants is to get to know you better…

Right across the street. You live right across the street. 

Bucky’s heart did somersaults when he followed you to your home only to realize that you were living in the building across the street. 

He didn’t try to make friends or to get to know his neighbors. This way he missed that he could look inside your windows.

It’s five hours later that he’s sitting on a chair, in a dark room to watch you talk on the phone. You wrinkle your forehead and close your eyes.

“Hmm…I think she’s having a bad day, Alpine,” Bucky tells his cat while following your every move with his brand-new binoculars. “Maybe we should do something nice for her. Like finding out who made her sad…”

And just like that, Bucky has a new mission...

Every Breath You Take (1)

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[mdemontespan1667]

Northern Lights in the STL metro area

[mdemontespan1667]

Hail storm that lasted 45 minutes while I was at work.

[mdemontespan1667]

This series (just like every other series you've written) is pure perfection. I would've gladly paid 10x what I paid.

[mdemontespan1667]