#dark mob bucky

[buckyalpine]

Mob Bucky x virgin reader

18+

Mob Bucky x virgin reader 

If you’re wondering how bad my procrastination is, I started this in November. Anyway, I forgot to add some lines from a different fic here. There’s no plot here, literally just a scene I imagined. Please read the warnings. 

Warnings: dub con, degrading, virginity taking, innocence kink, mentions of blood, horny, feral Bucky is a warning, porn and little plot. Honestly, no plot. 

-

He knew he wanted you from the moment he saw you. Cute little sun dresses, beautiful eyes, your perfect lips, every single one of your delicate features making him crave to have you. He didn’t know what to do with himself the day he found out you were a virgin; you said it so quietly he would have missed it if you weren’t curled up on his lap. 

“My sweet innocent baby” He cooed, trying his best to contain his erection, desperate to fill you. “No ones ever touched you?” 

N-no” You shook your head keeping it buried against his neck while your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You were told to wait until marriage to do anything so you did exactly as you were told. It hadn't been a problem up until now, your heart rate beating faster, squeezing your thighs together to make that feeling go away. He was intoxicating; rough fingers tracing over your smooth skin, skimming up to the hem of your dress.

“I-I can’t” You shook your head when he nearly reached your panties, his hand coming to tilt your face up to meet his eyes. 

“Why not, darling”

“We’re-um-” You fumbled with your fingers, choking on your words "We’re not married” 

“Is that all baby?” Bucky chuckled, kissing your cheek, “You know it doesn’t count if I just touch you sweets, would that be okay?” 

You swallowed thickly, knowing it was a bad idea to give into his temptations, the words of your mother and father screaming at you to behave yourself, that were omitting a grave sin, giving into lust-

“O-okay” 

-

“It’ll be more comfortable this way, darling” He reassured you as he spread you out on his large bed, all your clothes torn off while he stripped the last of his boxers before crawling beside you. Your eyes flicked down to his thick length, your stomach clenching as it bobbed between his legs while he settled himself. 

“You can look baby, you don’t have to touch if you don’t want to” His husky voice sent shivers down your spine when he caught you struggling to look away, your eyes now fully trained on the way a stick liquid was beading from the tip of his cock. He gently parted your thighs, moving to kneel in between them, the pads of his fingers brushing over your clit making you squeak in surprise at the feeling. 

“Just your fingers?” You looked at him nervously with doe eyes as he gave you a wolfish grin. 

“Just my fingers love, you’re not doing anything wrong” He rubbed the side of your thigh comfortingly while he coated his fingers in your slick, pressing the middle one into your entrance. “Still such a good girl” 

You gasped at the gentle stretch, gripping onto the sheets when he slowly added another, pumping in and out of your pussy, groaning at the way your thighs parted further to give him better access. 

“Look at this little button” Bucky whispered, rubbing deliberate circles around your clit, watching the way you started to fall apart when he crooked his fingers, fingering you faster. Your moans were music to his ears, his other hand pulling your lip away from your teeth to keep you from silencing yourself. “C’mon, I know you feel it princess, you can cum pretty girl” 

“I-I’m gonna-Bucky-Please!-” The squelching sounds of your sopping cunt got louder as you came closer and closer to the edge, blinding pleasure finally pushing you off as you convulsed around his fingers. “Oh God!” 

“That’s it baby” Bucky slowed down, gently pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, smirking when you cracked your eyes open again, sweat making your skin glisten. He was still kneeling in front of you, precum dribbling down his shaft, his balls achingly full while you shyly peered up at him through your lashes.

He was gorgeous. 

Gorgeous enough you’d want to-

No. 

As if he could read your mind. Bucky took your hand in his, placing your palm on his cock, nearly growling at how soft you felt compared to his rough hand wen he touched himself. 

“You can touch baby, you’re still my good girl” Bucky’s voice was breathless as you hesitantly wrapped your hand around his velvety shaft, stroking his heavy cock. He kept his hand over yours, jerking himself into your fist while his eyes raked up and down your body. 

“Let me touch you darling” He nearly fell forward when your thumb swiped over his slit, “Just let me rub it on you baby, it doesn’t count sweets, you don’t have to worry” 

“Are-are you sure?”

“Of course baby” 

He promised again while you bit your li hesitation before giving him a shaky nod. Bucky groaned, slotting himself between you legs, pumping his cock before rubbing it between you folds, his swollen tip leaking all over your already soaked pussy. 

“So soft bunny” He growled, throbbing when his tip caught against your entrance before rubbing against your clit again, “Feels s’good” 

“Bucky” You moaned in his ear as he started to hump against your pussy, slotting his cock snugly between your folds, his cockhead bumping against your clit with each thrust. “Bucky please” 

You weren’t sure what you were begging for, the feeling of him slipping up and down against you between the grunts and groans he made each time made your belly clench, your eyes growing wide when he was pressed against your entrance again, 

“Bucky-Bucky we can’t-” You looked at him with frantic eyes, his heavy body now fully resting on top of you while he continued to tease his cock, softly pressing against you.  

“That’s not what you call me love, you know better” Bucky had tested the waters earlier, loving how flustered and shy you got when he insisted you call him by something else, making you even more needy for him. 

 “But-were not married daddy” You whimpered, feeling the blunt tip of his cock starting to press against your entrance while he hummed with approval. 

“I won’t move love, just-just let me put the tip in, alright? Just the tip darling” He barely waited for your permission, breaching your hole as soon as you nodded, the sharp sting making you cry out in pain. 

“DADDY!, DADDY s’too much!” You shook your head as he kept pushing in more, stretching as if he were trying to split you in half. 

“I won’t fuck you, just wanna feel it” He gasped as soon as he was fully sheathed in you, your tight walls choking his cock. “Oh fuck angel, you’re so tight, make room for my cock baby, c’mon, let daddy fuck you baby” 

“It’s too big, it hurts” You cried out, squirming and withering on the bed, your legs squeezing and tensing around him while he brought his hand to wipe your tears, pushing away the strange of hair that clung to your forehead. 

“But you feel so good love, you gonna let daddy take your virginity baby?” 

“I-but-we-”

Bucky cooed at your stammering while staying fully buried in your cunt, precum already leaking. He pulled his hips back before thrusting forward making you squeal, his eyes locked with your as he started to fuck you. 

“Stop daddy!” Your nails clawed at his back pleasure, pain, shame, guilt, lust, one too many emotions flowing through you as he moved faster, his muscles tensing, rippling down his body. “Slow down, please!” 

“But you’re making daddy feel so good baby” Bucky groaned, lost in his own world, feral over how tight you were, how you pleaded for him to slow down, his cock was too much for your tiny pussy to take. He loved the way you hiccupped and choked sobs, your greedy virgin cunt sucking him right back in each time he pulled out.  

He was sure he could smell the light scent of iron in the air, looking down at where the both of you were connected, his shaft covered in your creamy slick. Spots of red stained his white sheets, but that only seemed to spur him on more, growling and pounding you harder. 

“Oh sweet girl, did I stretch you too much?” 

“It-hurts” You whimpered, clinging onto him, biting down on his shoulder to keep from crying, you wanted to be so good for him but you could feel the pain radiating through your body, shame melting into pleasure as he drove his cock in deeper. He could feel his length swell, his balls starting to pull tight against his body when you bit down harder, the pain making him throb. 

“Gonna let daddy put his seed in you princess? Hmm? We’re not even married darling, are you gonna let my cock bust in you?” It was so wrong, all of it was so wrong but you were too far gone, too deep, your foggy brain caving, giving into everything you’d always wanted. 

“Yes daddy yes!” Your thighs trembled, squeezing tightly around his waist as the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbed against your clit. Spots clouded around your vision as you clenched around his cock making it hard for him to move, your second orgasm ready to wash over you. 

“That’s a good slut, taking all of her daddy’s dick and letting him making a mess in her” He let out a dark chuckle as his hand came up to wrap around your throat, softly squeezing the sides. 

“M’m-not a slut” Your whimper turned into a guttural moan as he pounded you with everything he had, the bed shaking, his balls slapping your ass. “Ah-AHh fuck!!” 

“Oh but you are baby, all naked and spread out on my bed, fuck princess, m’gonna give it to you so hard, m’gonna cum so fucking hard, shit-FUCCKK” Bucky roared, as bursts of cum streamed out of his cock, the feeling of his seed making you feel warm inside. “You’re milking my cock you slut, gonna milk my fuckin’ dry the way you’re choking me, go on and milk me sweets, take it all” 

You cried out as you came around his cock, emptying him for all he was worth. He wrapped his arms around you, keeping himself warm while you nearly passed out from pleasure, shuddering in his hold. He smirked at your fucked out state, pushing his hips up making you whimper, cuddling into his chest. 

“Rest darling, daddy isn’t finish yet”  

[buckets-and-trees]

SALT (Bucky x Reader)

Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: mostly-dark!mob!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: 2.8k  Summary: True achievement in the restaurant industry requires a relentless drive. No compromises. You've risen through the ranks, and when your mentor retires, you're rightly given the mantle of executive chef at Devour. On your night of ascension, the dining room is packed, and among the guests is someone equally as relentless to get what he wants.

Content Warnings: imbalanced power dynamics, bribery, workplace manipulation, NON/DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit language, risk of being caught, food play, knife play, nipple/breast play, vaginal fingering, forced orgasm, edging, unprotected vaginal intercourse, non-graphic cream pie (not the food kind)

Additional Notes: Written for @the-slumberparty's April Mob AU challenge. Using dark prompt #23 (bolded in the dialogue).

tagging some peeps who showed interest in the preview for this little thing: @sidepartskinnyjeans @vonalyn @winterslove1917

“You’re not serious, Stanley.”

“I am.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Sure. Whatever. I don’t have time for customer meet and greets during a normal service, let alone tonight of all nights.”

“You will do it,” Stanley insisted, “because it’s James Barnes and he’s got more money and influence than any god. He owns the mob scene in this town.”

When your maître d’ didn’t say anything more, you turned to truly look at him. 

You frowned but set down your pan with a huff. “Fine. Charlie, take over while I apparently go make an appearance.”

“Table twenty-seven,” Stanley said, handing you a clean dish towel, which you pressed against your forehead, cheeks, and neck as you headed for the door that led from kitchen to dining area, tossing the towel in the laundry bin under one of the counters. 

You pushed past the kitchen doors and walked through the dining room towards table twenty-seven, one of the handful booths and tables nestled in small alcoves that offered a little more privacy for VIP reservations, set off on a small dais with walls of green plants strategically placed to create ambience while sectioning off the area from curious eyes and a plethora of potential phone cameras. 

There were five individuals seated around the table, but he drew your attention first as you approached. He clocked your progress before any of his companions, and when he looked up, his stare fixed on you with such intensity that you took a brief pause before your next step, which he clearly noted, and the corner of his mouth ticked up in the slightest smirk. It made your blood heat with irritation, but you focused on remaining calm and professional as you stepped up to the table. 

“This was an exquisite meal, Chef,” he said, drawing the attention of his companions to you immediately.

“Thank you,” you replied. 

“Sam here hasn’t been able to shut up about it since the first course came out,” a blonde man sitting to his right said. 

“And you haven’t left even a crumb on your plate through any course, Steve,” he chided back good naturedly. 

Each of them had a girl tucked in next to them, but not the man with dark hair and steel blue eyes you still found it difficult to look away from who had to be the infamous James. His friends and their companions continued to rave for another minute or two about different parts of the meal’s courses. You expected them to be closer to the age of your parents, not much nearer yours. 

“Well, thank you again,” you finally said. “We’re pleased to have you dining at our restaurant tonight. Devour is a dream for all of us on the staff. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the kitchen to oversee final preparations for the dessert course.”

“I’m eager for what’s to come next, Chef,” he said, looking you up and down, his eyes darkening. You’d delivered the overture for your exit, but he somehow made it clear it was only with his approval that you would leave in that moment. 

Twenty minutes later, you sprinkled a touch of flaky salt over the ribbon of whiskey-laced caramel drizzled over the chocolate mousse, Charlie adorned it with a perfect rosette of the Chantilly cream, and you slid the final plate across to Stanley, who put it on the final tray and sent the waiter on his way. 

“That’s service, everyone!” you announced, and some of the staff clapped and whooped. 

You smiled, truly satisfied. Charlie bumped elbows with you, and when you turned your head to look at him, you couldn’t help the genuine smile bursting across your face. 

“Truly a triumph for you taking over,” Stanley said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You’ve more than earned your new title as the executive chef of Devour and this kitch–“

He was cut off as there was a burst of activity at the doors coming in from the dining room. “Everyone, clear the kitchen! Out the back, please,” came a booming voice that you’d heard speak much more congenially earlier in the dining room. It was clear this man was used to giving orders and having them followed without question. 

“Excuse me,” Stanley turned to look, but on seeing who was sweeping in and ushering his staff out before him, but his tone shifted when he saw who was giving the orders – now guarded but polite, “Oh, Mr. Rogers.”

“And if I could have a word with you in particular,” Steve said, addressing Stanley and nodding towards the back. 

“Of course,” he responded.

You and Stanley exchanged a glance, and you began clearing out with the rest, but Steve put a hand on your shoulder. “Not you,” he said a little more quietly. “You stay here.”

You frowned and tilted your head as you looked up at him. He only smirked at you. 

“The rest of you, keep it moving, let’s go!”

You chewed on your bottom lip and let your hand drop to the silver surface of the counter where your fingers immediately began to drum impatiently. After a moment you turned to look over at the door to the dining room, and your breath hitched. 

He was there, leaning up against the door frame, blue eyes fixed on you. 

His face was unreadable, and so you tried to keep your face blank as well as he stalked toward you, coming around the plating area and to your side of the counter. 

“What is this, Mr. Barnes?”

“I’m buying this restaurant. Steve’s arranging everything with Stanley right now.”

Your brow furrowed.

“I own this kitchen, and I own you, Chef.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he put two fingers to your lips. 

“I’m tripling your salary,” he said as he stepped right into your space, backing you up against the counter, only a breath of space between you. 

Your heart was racing for too many reasons – anger, incredulity, but also a thrill of arousal. You wanted to refuse him, but he also drew you in, and you could not deny that. You knew he was dangerous, you were infuriated by his audacity, and yet…

“You can’t turn down an offer like that,” he continued, “especially not after the years of hard work I know you put in for the executive chef apron in this kitchen. Our stories are not so different in that way. You earned this. You won’t walk away.” 

“I can–“

“But you won’t,” he cut over you. You glowered, but he ignored your slow burning anger and instead reached around behind your back to tug at the ties of your apron. Then his voice dropped down an octave as he spoke again, “Don’t fight me. You will give yourself to me.”

“I won’t.” You cocked your chin up.

“You will,” he insisted. He pulled the black apron away from your body and tossed it onto the counter behind you.

“You will give yourself to me now.” He pushed forward, pinning you to the counter with his pelvis. You tried to suppress a shaky exhale, feeling his erection pressing into you.  “Soon you will warm my bed,” he bent his head down to ghost a kiss at your temple, then another on your cheek, before he moved his mouth further down and murmured his next threat down the column of your throat, “and I promise it won’t be long until you will beg for me to take you apart without any coercion.”

When his tongue darted out over the sensitive spot just under your jaw, a whimper escaped from your chest before you could stop it, and you felt him smile against your skin. 

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Please, anyone could catch us.”

He chuckled. “Sam and Steve are preventing that,” he said, pulling away just enough to start unbuttoning your black chef’s jacket. “But,” he continued, “if you make too much noise, you’ll confirm that we’re doing anything more than talking.” 

Once he had finished with all the buttons, he pushed the coat open. Your eyes were still closed until you felt the cool edge of a knife on your sternum, and your eyes burst open again, fear and adrenaline rushing through your body, but luckily he wasn’t looking at your face, focused instead on your chest where his metal fingers skimmed lightly over the bared skin for just a moment before they gripped the fabric of your black camisole and bra while his other hand tore his knife down in a swift movement, splitting your undergarments down the middle, putting your chest on full display for his hungry eyes. He pushed the clothing out of the way fully only over your left shoulder. 

He lifted his gaze to meet your eyes again. “Dessert was exquisite, but it didn’t satisfy what I wanted.”

He reached for a nearby saucepan, which still had a ladle in it, and smiled as he gave it a stir. You watched as he took a scoop of the caramel sauce and poured a little over the round swell of your breast. It was warm, and started to slowly spread, but not enough to drip and make a mess. You imagined in his line of work, he knew how to be precise, not leave anything extra to clean up. He set the pan back down on the counter, and then reached for something else, returning with a pinch of the flaky salt that he then sprinkled over the caramel. 

For a moment he merely admired his handiwork. then his warm hand came up to cup the underside of your breast, and then his mouth descended to lap up the salted caramel from your tender flesh. Heat bloomed across your chest and straight to your head and your core, his ministrations eliciting a low moan from you. He hummed in approval, then took your nipple into his mouth. Your nipples were always very sensitive, and he was not careful with his attention there, sucking, nipping, and licking until you whimpered and tried to push him away. He kept mouthing painfully at your nipple another moment longer. 

He leaned back for a moment to look own at you, scrutinizing your face. You were not sure what he saw there, truthfully you didn’t know how to feel and what front to put up, but whatever he assessed didn’t deter him. 

He lifted one hand to your neck and then trailed the back of his fingers down your sternum, between your breasts, over your stomach, a light touch that wasn’t rushed, knowing he could draw a shiver of anticipation from you with the purposeful action. He unbuttoned your pants, and as he slipped his hand into your panties and cupped your mound, he leaned in close to your ear and softly said, “You earned this, too, Chef.”

His fingers sought your folds. “And you are wet for me.” You didn’t need to see his face to imagine the satisfaction that must be there – it was evident in his tone. His breath was hot on the shell of your ear. “Close like this,” he whispered, “I’ll still hear even the small pretty noises I’m going to draw from you with my fingers in your cunt.”

And even though you were expecting it – dreading it? – you gasped when he quickly thrust two fingers inside you, knuckles deep, and moved them expertly in and out of your tight heat, questing and quickly finding the sensitive spongy spot on the front of your pelvic wall. You bit your lip to keep keening as quiet as you could, and your arms gripped his biceps, looking for an anchor to reality. He played your pussy quickly, nimble and knowing fingers familiarizing themselves too easily with your body for your comfort. 

His thumb went to work expertly drawing tight circles over your clit, still thrusting his fingers inside you, and the additional stimulation forced you into an intense orgasm you didn’t want to give him, burrowing your face into his neck to smother your small cry of ecstasy. 

You didn’t want to see his face – undoubtedly haughty knowing he’s pleased you despite you wanting to refuse him the satisfaction – and in this you are spared at least for the moment as without pretense he abruptly spins you around and tugs your pants and underwear down your thighs. You heard the quick unbuckling of his belt and unzipping of his pants as he freed his hard length. You had only a second to brace yourself against the countertop as he gripped your hip with one hand and used his other to guide his tip to your thoroughly slick and ready opening. One full and quick thrust had him fully sheathed inside you, punching the air from your lungs. He leaned forward against your back, his mouth close to your ear again. “Feel me in there? Stretching you to the limit.” 

He rolled his hips ever so slightly, slowly, and your head fell back against his shoulder.

“Yes, Chef. Just like that.”

He pulled his hips back, then gave another slow and powerful drive into your cunt. “Feel as smooth and velvety around my cock as that caramel sauce was on my tongue.” While one hand remained on your hip, as he began to pick up the pace with his thrusts his other hand brushed up your spine, then moved around to grasp your breast, the one he’d overstimulated just a few minutes before. You whimpered and tried to jerk away, but you’re met with his strong chest up against your back. He chuckled and then began to tweak and roll the nipple between his fingers. 

You tried to pull his hand away, still whimpering. 

“I intend to leave you feeling me for days from this, Chef,” he growls in your ear. His thrusts become rougher, faster, slamming into you over and over again. Your hands pulled at his wrist torturing your nipple, but your strength was nothing to his, and soon tears were spilling down your cheeks. When an audible sob escaped your throat, he finally relented and released your breast, but then he gripped your hips with both hands, showing no mercy for your pussy as he chased his own pleasure. 

Without the pain, your body focused only on the pleasure mounting in your core now. This felt good. He felt good. His cock filled you exquisitely. You tried to rock your hips just slightly to where you know he’d hit that pleasurable spot in you again, but he controlled the movement and forced you to stay at the angle he wanted. 

“This one is for me, Chef, not you,” he grunted. 

Still, you pant together, lungs heaving, and you’re hurtling toward another orgasm. His hips stutter for a moment, and with a groan he releases his spend inside you, slowing his movements. 

You couldn’t hold back a needy whine as he pulled out of you. You looked over your shoulder at him incredulously, edged to the very moment before but then denied your second release. 

He paused after tucking his softening cock back into his boxer briefs and gripped your chin, demanding an abrasive kiss from your lips. “When you come apart on my cock, I want to watch your beautiful face and hear you beg for me.”

Years in the kitchen have taught you to hold back your words when there’s even a shade of uncertainty, and you are uncertain if you will give him what he wants or not, because you can’t deny that your body absolutely wants him, and part of your spirit does, too. Relentless power recognizing another like its own, and you hate that you’re more than a little intrigued. You don’t want to just give him what he wants, but a tiny sliver of you whispers that you shouldn’t cut off your nose just to spite him. 

You pulled up your pants while you heard him zip and buckle his own pants again. One he had tucked in his shirt, again with swift precision, he turned you back around to face him. He reached for your apron, wiped his hands, then set it back on the counter. He didn’t mess with your torn shirt and bra other than to adjust them well enough so he could close your chef coat and button that back up over your chest. 

He gazed right into your eyes again, brushing his thumb over your lips, parting them slightly, then pushing them closed again. 

“I’ll be back for more soon,” he finally said, then walked away without another word. 

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

LINK TO PART TWO: FAT

[flordeamatista]

𝗕𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗧𝗼 𝗬𝗼𝘂

pairing: dark mob!bucky barnes x stewardess!reader

concept: Like clouds dancing in the air giving the setting sun a reason to live, that is how you came into his life. 

word count: 2k

warnings: possessive Bucky, dark Bucky, dubcon/noncon (to be safe on the kidnapp-ing, drug—ing), desire,lust, p— in-—v, mile high club, man—ipulation mature themes, edging, fingering, nickname ──(Princess, Sweetheart)

a/n: Written for @the-slumberparty April Mob AU Challenge. In the midst of my muse going off and on, I finally received the muse to finish this story from the writing fairies to submit it on the last day.

The prompt: “If it wasn’t meant to be, you wouldn’t fit me so perfectly.”

lovely beta:@lunarbuck & @targaryenvampireslayer

line divider by @s-tarksintern ──the cute gif/moodboard made by me

Masterlist

Despite the distance, I can still sense you. 

What a waste of time. 

You feel your heart sink as you realize you have been stood up. You try to distract yourself by focusing on the flickering candlelight on the table and taking a deep breath.

It's as if the radiant flame is a reminder of your feelings for him, a reminder that won't go away no matter how difficult the situation gets.

His deep crimson eyes, burning intensely, ran wild during lustful nights and burned so hard every day you were with him. 

This light was visible only to you. 

His possessiveness and jealousy, however, were like melting wax into molten tears of your fears as you fled. That night, when you left him, it ached for you, but you knew it was time to leave. You left, never looking back, never feeling his piercing light again. His hold on you was more than physical; it was as if he treated you as if you were his property and wanted whatever he thought best for you, regardless of what you wanted. 

You are finally free. 

Fresh air is the most beneficial thing for you. You have to venture into a new atmosphere, experience a new life, and encounter a new man.

Recharge from him and getting a fresh beginning.

The waiter comes with a drink. 

"On the house. He doesn't deserve you for standing you up."

You had the feeling that the restaurant staff were watching you and were sorry your date had not arrived. You’d been holding on to the idea that he was stuck at work for almost two hours but after sitting at the table alone and stupid, you’re giving up hope.

You quickly down the drink, hoping it will give you some relief from the humiliation and arduous wait. 

 “So much for romance,” you mutter into the glass. 

"Maybe your man is nearby," the waiter says softly in fear as you stare at him in confusion.

 Your attention is drawn to the door as he points to it. 

A stone wall surrounds you, and suddenly, the air is thick as syrup.

It feels like your body is drained, your arms and hands are heavy, and every movement feels like a struggle, as you grasp the table, feeling numb. There he stands, him, with a bouquet of roses in his hand. A smirk escapes his lips as fire returns to the room. 

But you keep seeing blurry figures, hoarse voices, and the sensation that your body is swallowing. The room looks like a slow-moving carnivorous scene. Air around you feels heavy and thick, as if it is tightly wrapped around you, suffocating you.

As if your body is turning to stone, you feel helpless, but a touch brings a sliver of reality when blue ocean eyes and “You can’t be taking free drinks from a stranger, Sweetheart. Just sleep and it will be okay.” Fingers stroke your cheek and you keep your eyes open. 

“There is no escape.” He kisses you on the forehead, and you see darkness. 

Your eyes only belong to him and he looks forward to seeing them again

It is only when you see his shadows and feel the beating of your heart that you know where you were.

Though you want to run, you return to him by the hand of the universe. In his hands.

A smirk appears on his face. “Hello, Lovebug. Our paths cross again. I want to know why you ran from me. Nobody, not even you, runs from me." His deep voice carries anger while his eyes focus on you.

“Where am I?” 

You see him stare down at you and tap his glass of Scotch, but you realize you are not at his house but on his private jet. In the midst of the peaceful flight across the clouds, you can sense the jet moving peacefully. 

But you are next to the darkest cloud of the world.

There is only one dark king in the world of mobs, Bucky Barnes. 

You can feel yourself being pulled into darkness, unsure of what the future holds. “Fuck you.” You take his glass and throw it across the plane.

You slap him hard across the face, causing his head to snap to the side. The sound of the slap echoes throughout the small plane. 

His eyes suddenly sparkle with rage as he pushes you back against the jet's cabin.

 As you stare at his lips, he licks them.

 This is the end for you, and you know it. 

His touch is electrifying, and he seems to sense it. With an inviting smirk, he leans in closer, leaving you with no doubt as to his intentions. 

He will make sure your words are moans for his name with a single touch

He reaches down and pulls up your dress, then slowly runs to your underwear. His fingers glide through your pussy. You can feel your heart beating faster as his touch enthralls you, as he brings you to the edge of pleasure. His eyes are dark and lustful, and he whispers, "I know she's ready for more. Let's make her happy, the king is home." Keeping his thumb firmly pressed against your most intimate area, he rubs it back and forth rhythmically, and you surrender to his words and the touch of his fingers.

He slides two thick fingers deep into your pussy, and you whimper. "Don't tell me you don't want me," he growls, leans in and bites your bottom lip, as his other hand grips your throat, fingers pumping you hard.

He aggressively takes your lips. His body shakes and he collapses onto you, exhausted. His breath is hot in your ear as he whispers your name. His tongue slides through your mouth as your whole body melts against him. He breaks the kiss and he looks down at you with a satisfied smirk. 

His body is trembling, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. 

His hard body presses against yours while he moans.

He adds another finger to your pussy and your eyes roll back. His touch sends electric pleasure waves through your body. His growl echoes the intensity of those feelings coursing through your body. "I will give you more so you know you are mine." His fingers send you over the edge, your moans growing louder in the room. 

Biting your lip and trying to stay upright, you roll your eyes back in your head. 

Like clouds dancing in the air giving the setting sun a reason to live, that is how you came into his life. 

The stewardess of his private jet bandaged the shallow cut on his arm in silence when he won a fight and was on his way home. A sense of hope and possibility was brought by your unexpected arrival. He was given a glass of bourbon by you to ease the pain, but all he wanted was to feel the touch of your hands on his skin to soothe the wound. The sun shined through the plane that day as you flew in the air, he kissed you on the lips to claim you as his. 

The world was in his hands in every aspect, and even the air obeyed him, so there was no place for him to hide. Even though you attempted to run from the lifestyle, his hands were visible on your skin every second of the day and you were his.

In this moment when you know he is tracing what is his, you want him to trace more. 

Your body moans at his touch.

You are left utterly frustrated when he suddenly draws his fingers from you. 

You want to scream, but the sound never escapes your lips. He is playing a game, and you are on the verge of losing badly. Your breathing is heavy, and your eyes sting with tears yet to fall. In this moment, you feel trapped by overwhelming sensations and powerlessness. 

A soft whispered apology graced your lips. "I didn't mean to leave you. I needed air."

With his back to you, Bucky smirks in response to your unease, none of which he wants you to feel. Taking off his suit jacket, he turns to you as he removes his tie, unbuttons his shirt, and slowly rolls up his sleeves.

"Come here," he whispers softly. 

You stand, weighing your options, knowing you have none, since he is always a step ahead, forcing you to bend your knees to him. There is nowhere to hide or scream. He seems unimpressed after you take a few steps to ease up under his obedience.

“Come here now,” he says harshly. He is not backing down, and his tone makes it clear that you have no choice but to obey his order. It is unusual for him to repeat himself, and his eyes are burning. 

You obey, not wanting to anger him further. He sneers as you walk over, your heart beating wildly. He grabs your arm and pulls you closer, his breath hot on your face.

"I'm going to give you two options, baby," he growls. "You can take my cock, or you can cry while I make you take it."

Bucky has everything in his life, from power to his girl.

He ignites my flame once again with his words

Your pussy takes him in as he grinds his hips against you. His breathing becomes heavier as he takes you in. Every movement is torture and ecstasy simultaneously. His gaze is locked on you and he moves closer to deepening the connection between you and him. He feels like there's no one else in this world, but the two of you. He has been under his spell since the moment he laid eyes on you.

"Don't you need me, Princess?" he whispers softly, grabbing your jaw. But you can’t answer. "Answer me, baby," he says in a low, growling voice as he thrusts inside you slowly. "Or I will not let you come all fucking night!"

Your body burns and you know he will keep his promise, making your suffering even worse. You are his to take. You whisper, "I need it," into the air.

“Yes,” he growls again as your flesh yields. "You are..." He tightens his fingers around yours as he grinds against you. "Mine." He thrust faster and harder. In. Out. Faster. Stronger. The thrill of his body thumping into you was apparent in every thrust. 

"If it wasn't meant to be, you wouldn't fit me so perfectly. Look at our movement as one, darling." His breathing is heavy and ragged as he pushes himself in deeper, claiming every inch of your body. 

His words, touch, and excited expression make you lose your breath. 

He whispers darkly, "Your pussy is so happy to see me." His movements are precise and calculated, and you arch your back and wrap your legs around him to push him closer with each thrust.

You can feel the pleasure building up as your orgasm is quickly approaching. Finally, you reach the peak as you tremble and moan.

Your freedom from him slips away from you. 

Once again, you have crossed a dangerous, fine line, as Bucky said, you have nowhere to run. You have no choice but to take on the consequences of your actions. You watch the clouds move across the sky as you move with him in rhythm, knowing that no land can hide you.

Your voice echoes his name, and they remain until the end of time

[sarahowritesostucky]

Happy Little Family

📖"Taking Back What's His"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6170

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"

2. Taking Back What's His

(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuring—he’s pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.

When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, it’s the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. It’s nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You haven’t experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.

Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago. 

“Oh, kotenok, You haven’t been fucking anybody.” 

You’re still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear James’ pleased chuckle from where he’s getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. “Hey Sweetheart. Feeling good?” 

You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you aren’t happy, that this state he’s fucked you into isn’t real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little “no" that makes James laugh.

“Come here.” He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure you’re steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. “You good?”

“M’fine.” He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. You’re not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything that’s going on, can still remember June. “Please,” you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. “Let me give her to Hilde.”

James rolls his eyes. “Right, right. Your friend across the street.”

“Please James?” You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. “She’ll be safe there.”

Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. “Sure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.”

You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that he’s not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isn’t stupid, you’ll give him that.

In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that she’ll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, it’s blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, you’re able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isn’t scared. 

It’s when you’re crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.

You stop moving long enough that James notices. “What’re you doing? Come on.”

You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. “I … have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,” you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, who’s squinting at your tits.

“Bottle?” He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.

“Yes. Asshole. I won’t exactly be around to feed her, now will I?” 

His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. “Right. Well go on, then.” 

You move for the hallway, realize he’s not following you, and turn back in confusion. He’s beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m waiting right here until you come back upstairs,” he says, his message clear. 

Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. You’re useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. “No games.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs. 

It’s pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasn’t followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.

Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. June’s still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone ‘beep’ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer. 

Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no no— 

“Looking for this?” 

You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.

His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. “I have to say, Doll, I’m impressed. I would’ve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?” He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. “Jesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didn’t you?” His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand he’s holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.

Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but you’re frozen. Bolting now wouldn’t even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it, vorishka?”[little thief]

He’s taunting you with your own failure, and you can’t stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. “James,” you plead, “I didn’t—”

“Shh sh sh. None of that, now.”  He’s speaking softly, sweetly, but he’s furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. “So what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?”

“N-no.”

“Ah. Right. You’re smarter than that. You would’ve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"

You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. “You can’t hold that against me,” you say, trying to defend yourself.

He nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can’t blame you for that.” Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “But do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?” Your face pinches in fear, sure that you’re about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. “The fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and I’ve never even fucking seen her.” 

Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s mine?” 

“James,”

“All this time!” he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. “You kept her from me! What gives you the right?” 

“I—I didn’t—”

He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. “Nothing, is the answer you’re looking for. You had no right to do that.” 

You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. “James, wait …”

He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you you’re about to die. “Say goodbye, mamochka,” he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger. 

It’s a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know you’re about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. It’s an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth would’ve been. “Don’t hurt her,” you gasp.

His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger. 

… Nothing happens, but you’re bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you haven’t been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like you’re about to faint, which is apparently what he’s waiting for. 

He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. “What the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?” 

You step back again when he moves. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, don’t,” he whispers, mocking you. “Don’t what? Don’t take back what’s mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didn’t get to see grow or come into this world?” Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesn’t miss it, the bastard. “Yeah,” he says darkly. “You robbed me of that. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry.”  He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. “I’ll be putting another one in you real soon.”

You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens. 

“Woah-ho, easy there.” He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though you’re nothing but a tantruming child. “Stop being so dramatic.”

You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as you’re hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. “Mmph!” you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but it’s less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. “Mmph!”  

James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Shhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. It’s all over.” 

“Nngh!”

“Just take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everything’ll be alright, I promise. Just relax.” You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your body’s going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, “or our daughter.”

The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.

And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,” he says. “Welcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.

You sit up straighter in the seat where you’d been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:

James—He found you. 

June—She's not there.

"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"

You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room you’re in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabin—Shit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye. 

Bucky’s eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,” he says, still watching you in concern. “Get her a bottle of water."

“Sure thing, boss.”

And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.

They've got June.

Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little ‘meep’ of a sound. “Steve!” you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that you’ve spoken directly to him. He’s not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and it’s like seeing a wild animal right next to your baby—dangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on June’s body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that she’s asleep. “I-is she okay?” you ask, heart in your throat. 

Steve’s eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. “She’s fine.” 

Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. “He’s going to put her down. There’s a crib in the back. She’ll be fine,” he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. “You and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.”

“I thought we did that back in my bedroom,” you snap.

“You still want the water?” Steve asks.

“That’s okay.” Bucky keeps his eyes on you. “I’ll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.” 

Steve nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Wait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?” You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you. 

“She’ll be fine,” Bucky assures you. “Just sit back and relax. We won’t be in the air for too long.”

You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James won’t hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. There’s a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.

… Only, James was never any of those things.

“This is your plane?” you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.

James smirks. “What? You thought I’d kidnap you and then fly commercial?” 

You purse your lips at his joke. “I guess not.” You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that you’re already on a plane with him. You’ll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get to—

“Stop it,” James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. He’s giving you a stern look. “You barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now we’ve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.” He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me again, omegechka.”

“I’m not?” you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what he’s planning for your punishment. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m just taking back what’s mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?” You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. “That’s okay. You’ll see it eventually. This isn’t a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you would’ve seen it before, and we wouldn’t have to be going through this right now.” He raises his drink to you in a little salute. “You, me, and pchelka? We’re going to be a family.”

You don’t refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly could’ve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. You’re only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you don’t protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago you’d been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you weren’t. One minute you’re sure you’re about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, he’s got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss. 

“I had a whole renovation done for her,” he tells you. “Pchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.”

You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You don’t care if he’s bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. It’s no place for a child. “What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. “That word: chelk—? You keep using it. You can’t just rename my daughter.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. “Pchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.”

“Oh … Right.” You love that set. It’d been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.

“And she’s my daughter too,” James says tightly.

You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. It’s silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. “Her name is June,” you offer quietly.

His face draws tight with emotion that’s impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. “You made me think you’d lost it,” he eventually whispers. “How could you do that to me?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry.” 

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I found you.”

“I saw you kill people, James!” you cry. “I saw who you really are. I couldn’t stay. Not after that.”

His mouth ticks up at the corners. “Oh, Sweetheart. You’ve got no idea who I am, or what I’ve done for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. “Do you even remember where we met?” 

You frown. “Of course.” You’d met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party you’d been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired ‘pretty girls’. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And you’d fallen for it, hook line and sinker. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he says disdainfully. “Don’t know how lucky you really are. I saved you.”

You scoff. “You’re no different from those boat guys. You think you’re so special, God’s gift to omegas, I get it.”

“No,” he grits. “You really don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christ’s sake!”

“Right, right. The men you saw me kill,” he says, referencing the scene you’d walked in on just before you’d faked your miscarriage and fled. “You were eavesdropping outside the door, weren’t you, Little thief?”

You jut your chin out. “Yes. So what?” 

“You know, I’d always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.” 

“What?”

He laughs under his breath—at your expense, you suspect. “Who exactly do you think they were?”

“Your business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.”

James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.

“What?” you snap. “You’re gonna deny it?”

“I’m not denying anything. But I killed them for you.”

“Oh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.” 

Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadn’t ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to “on business” every few days. It’d taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.

Sitting in front of you now, he doesn’t deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. “I don’t want that in my life,” you hiss. “Arms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.”

His eyes flash. “They don’t call it that, you know. It’s called the ‘skin trade’.”

“I don’t care.”

He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. “Right,” he snaps, like you’re an idiot. “You’re so fucking naïve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that I’m the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it could’ve been for you.”

“You threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!”

Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. “I knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,” he says, making your breath catch. 

“How?”

He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, “I put that baby in you, moya omegya. She’s a part of me. You think I wouldn’t be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesn’t know the scent of his own flesh and blood?”

You tense, fighting not to shrink away. “You’re making that up.”

He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. “Sweetheart,” he purrs, “I may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.” He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. “I found you by your scent,” he whispers. “Sniffed you out.”

You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isn’t anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect he’s had on you. “I wouldn’t have sold her anyway,” he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. “I want you to know that. I don’t participate in the skin trade.”

You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You don’t know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. “But you’re aware of it,” you say. “You know it happens, and you don’t do anything to stop it.”

His jaw works in frustration. “I’ve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.”

“Well, aren't you a hero.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I’ve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they don’t take kindly to being stolen from.”

“I can imagine.”

“No,” he mutters into his drink. “You really can’t.”

There’s something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. “... How much?” you ask.

“What?” His eyes darken when he figures out what you’re asking. “No.”

“Tell me.”

“It depends,” he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."

Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. “Well what about me? How much would I go for?”

“Kotenok,” he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little, 

“Come on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You can’t even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?” 

He probably knows you’re trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. “Well,” he drawls, “you just had a baby. So that’s less right there.” Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. “You’re the one who asked,” he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like it’s hurting him to consider you this way. “Most people want their omegas untouched,” he says quietly. “Especially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. It’s an instinctual thing for us. We’re very driven to possess. We don’t like to share.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter.

His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. “You’dve been a couple million, back when we first met.”

Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. “But … I wasn’t even a virgin.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.” He leers at you. “Not that there aren’t some who’ll pay a little extra to pop a girl’s cherry. But that’s not the main thing they’re looking for, when they buy.” 

You scowl. “Right. So I guess I’m damaged goods now."

“Oh no, mamochka,” he says seriously. “You’ve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say I’m more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. “You’re not for sale, and you never will be. You’re mine.”

You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you can’t keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like you’re his most prized possession. With any other man you’d just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. There’s always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. It’s the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what it’ll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you mumble quietly. “Where is it?” 

“Just down there.” He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.

You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re walking away.

“Don’t take too long in there, kotenok,” he purrs from back in his seat. “Or I’ll have to come in after you.”

In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like you’re looking at another person, someone you don’t know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. June’s been sleeping through the night for months, but it’s been a hell of a day.

You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much you’ve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. You’ve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. It’s been awful, and lonely, and you’ve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him. 

You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.

Oh.

You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. It’s James’ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen. 

Why does this have to be happening?! You’ve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before he—

A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. “Doll?”

You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. “Honey,” he mourns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?” 

You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isn’t blocking. “Leave me alone!” you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. “Leave me alone!” you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isn’t suffused with James’ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that you’ve started.

He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says.

“Just leave me alone,” you whine miserably. “Go away!”

“Shh sh sh.” He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. “It’s okay,” he murmurs between kisses. He doesn’t try to get you to stop crying, or ask you what’s wrong. He seems to know exactly why you’re breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. “S’okay, s’okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you now. It’s all gonna be okay. Shhh.”

At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you can’t seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isn’t there. 

“You feeling a little better?” he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.

You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. “I’m fine,” you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. “Just got a little sad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”

You hate how he says it, because it’s obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much she’s missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you it’s okay and that you’re allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, you’re just grateful that he isn’t rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You don’t fight to get away from him.

The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once you’ve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. It’s a gesture of comfort. He’s not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that you’re facing away from him. 

The plane shifts noticeably, and James’ hand pauses on your hip. “Pilot said we’re landing soon,” he murmurs. “Should probably go and get pchelka up.”

You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already he’s got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. “Pchelka,” you whisper, trying out the word. 

“Yeah.” He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. “Little bee. Come on. Let’s go.”

You don’t think about how it’s far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until you’re back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. “This isn’t Russia,” you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but you’ve only been in the air for a few hours at most. “James?” you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. “Where are we?” you breathe.

James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. “Home,” he says. “We’re home.”

A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!💖Sarah

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[buckrecs]

2023 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 3

masterlist | ✨- fav fics | status - completed

All of them are COMPLETE Series.

1. Galavano by @ichorai

Bucky x Reader

a series that follows the hero galvano through the events of the mcu!

2. Time (D)rift by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Dark!Bucky x Reader Apocalypse AU

The end has come and gone as you keep waiting for your own.

3. Uncontrollable by @fictional-affairs

Bucky x Widow!Reader

The year is 1992. The Winter Soldier is under HYDRA’s control, and the Red Widow is under Dreykov’s control, but when they find out their organizations are working together to have them kill each other, they decide to make a deal.

4. The Lake House by @rustytricycle

Dark!Bucky x Dark!Reader

You decide to spend the summer before Freshman year of college with two of your girlfriends at one of their parents’ lake house. It turns out that Captain America and his two best friends are staying next door. Bucky thinks you might be his perfect girl. But are you too perfect?

5. turn a blind eye by @sergeantxrogers

Bucky x Reader

The Winter Soldier was cold. Brutal. Unflinching. A machine formulated to comply. Bucky Barnes was the sun warming your skin, your happy pill. Loving him was like bittersweet liquor, sickeningly sweet when you sip, harsh and burning when you swallow.

6. Rooftop Sessions by @forever-rogue

Bucky x Therapist!Reader

Y/N is a therapist that works with war veterans that ends up meeting a mysterious stranger who asks for her help.

7. it’s all fun and games, until you catch feelings by @prettyyoungtragedy

Bucky x Reader

You’re pining after Steve and Bucky is pining after Nat, what better way to distract yourself from those two perfect humans than to distract yourselves with each other?! Fuck buddies it is then.

8. oh my delightful heart by @prettyyoungtragedy

Sequel to it’s all fun and games

Bucky Barnes is the sweetest dumbest most adoring boyfriend any girl could ever ask for... 

9. Follow My Lead by @ciarawritesmarvel ✨

Bucky x Reader

You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.

10. The Maid of Mr. Barnes by @disasterofastory

Mob!Bucky x Reader

You get a job as Mr. Barnes's maid. You heard about the notorious gangster, but since you desperately need money and a place to live, you are not in a position to be picky.

11. Guiding Light by @wkemeup ✨

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra. While you struggle to stay alive and hold your sanity, Bucky begins to lose himself to a darkness and gives into the soldier because he doesn’t know how to breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can.

12. Home | Better by @softlyspector ✨

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Bucky comes home from his second tour overseas, after a long time away from the reader.

13. Mad For You by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Nat hosts a costume masquerade. Bucky meets the Alice to his Hatter. Shenanigans ensue. 

14. Sanguis Sanguinis Mei by @captainscanadian

Vampire!Bucky x Vampire!Reader

It took Bucky Barnes two centuries with the blood of his blood to realize how much he loved her. This is their story. 

15. Another World by @sinner-as-saint

Alien!Bucky x Reader

In a futuristic world - a millennium from now, you and your team rescue and care for stranded and hurt otherworldly beings; who are held captive and kept on Earth against their wills. You save them from the bad guys who exploit them. You help them adjust to your planet’s life, and give them their freedom back. Then one day, while on a rescue mission, you come across a human-like extraterrestrial being; in a cryogenic chamber, with a missing arm. And nothing is ever the same again…

16. Picking Up The Pieces by @gogolucky13

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Bucky chooses to stay in his tumultuous relationship knowing you’ll be there to pick up the pieces, until finally you’re not.

17. Knight In Rusty Armor by @revengingbarnes ✨

Knight!Alpha!Bucky x Queen!Omega!Reader

For the sake of politics and to get rid of you, their omega daughter, the King and Queen of England marry you off to the King of France. Settling into an unfamiliar monarchy is a tedious process all by itself, but a new problem arises soon after your arrival at your new home. One of the Knights turns out to be your true mate. Your Alpha. The one you are meant to be with. But you’re mated to someone else. And that someone else is the King of France.

18. The Escaped Bride by @marvelouslytrekking

Pirate!Bucky x Reader

Being forced to marry someone was not something you wanted, but when it turns out that it is to your best friend, who you secretly loved, things weren’t so bad. Unfortunately, good things don’t seem to last and when the worst happens, you refuse to sit around and be miserable. Will you find true love again, or will your life be turned upside down?

19. Plot Twist by @winterarmyy

Mafia!Bucky x Reader

An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.

20. The Road Goes Ever On and On by @rocketrhap3000 ✨

Bucky x Single Mom!Reader

Life as a single mother of a three year old certainly has its struggles. But when a sweet stranger makes his way into you and your little boy’s life, a one of a kind connection sparks.

21. you’re my desire by @marvelouslizzie & @notafunkiller

40s!Bucky x Reader

Your best friend drags you out on a double date. You were supposed to be Steve Rogers’ date but plans change pretty quickly and you end up in Bucky Barnes’ arms.

22. Death Do Us Part by @sgtjbuccky ✨

God Of Death!Bucky x Mortal!Reader

For centuries, the God of Death had known two things about mortals. One, they were his job, his to collect when their days came to an end, and two, they were obnoxiously odd beings. Their purpose ceased to make sense to him. Never did he understand why they created a life for themselves, why they loved, why they loved other mortals when they knew that none of it would last forever. It was nothing but sheer stupidity, but that was until he met you. A mortal unlike any other. A mortal that would make him question everything. A mortal that would teach the God of Death how to live.

23. Lost In Each Other by @majestyeverlasting ✨

Dad!Bucky x Mom!Reader

For Bucky, one of the best things to come home to is family. Especially after a day at work. So he's pleasantly surprised when you want to show him a new dress after dinner one night. And it just so happens that little Eden and Jamie find a way to work themselves into the equation. But it all makes for good fun and memories you will never forget.

24. Fight For Me by @littleseasiren

Bucky x Reader

After years in an abusive relationship, you finally get out. When the Avengers decide to raise awareness for your Battered Women's Home, you bump into Bucky Barnes, the hottest, most complicated man you've ever met. He thinks you're too good for him, but when your abusive ex reappears, Bucky knows he has to keep you safe - by any means necessary.

25. call me baby by @cherryrogers ✨

Biker!Bucky x Reader

Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker, and when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either — that was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

26. Static Verse by @theconstantsidekick ✨

Bucky x Enhanced!Reader

Tony Stark's sister's a fucking badass, codename—Static. Here's her story through the MCU.

27. Bygone by @borntobewondering

Bucky x Reader

You and Peter get sent back in time, and you fall in love with someone unexpected.

28. Clockwork by @aries-writingblog ✨

Bucky x Reader

Bucky has moved on. He’s found a place in the new world of the 21st Century. Found peace. But the past is always half a step behind him, waiting to snatch him backwards- like clockwork.

29. Deny the truth, set the world on fire by @lizatill

Bucky x Reader, Dark!Winter Soldier x Reader

He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember.

30. Carnations by @viollettes

Bucky x Reader College AU

It’s a simple concept: Students can buy flowers for each other at the carnation sale. Red flowers are for love, pink flowers are for friendship, and white flowers are for expressing secret admiration. A carnation fundraiser, an iota of possibility, and a longtime secret crush on your hot best friend - what could go wrong?

[highonmarvel]

Ribs (II)

Bucky Barnes: Mob!Bucky has you. 18+ only.

Part I: Ribs

content warnings here!

You have limited mobility in your left arm without having sharp pain shoot across your shoulder and, of course, damaged knee caps—Dr Banner replaced the shattered one, luckily your right knee only had flesh wounds, no damaged cartilage; you still needed a cane to walk, but three months later you could at least walk without the help of another person. Theee months.

How you had survived was more a curse than a blessing, you wished you’d just died on the spot.

Bucky hadn’t hurt you since, and if you didn’t know better, you might have assume he felt genuine remorse and guilt over his actions. He’d dragged you to the car and you assumed sedated you, because you next woke up in a hospital bed. He wasn’t even there when you opened your eyes. After everything he couldn’t even be bothered to fucking show up.

Dr Banner you wanted to believe was a good man who had just got caught up with Bucky’s line of work—you remember vaguely hearing Banner “owed him” and he was now his personal medic, patching him and his men up when things went awry. He had a sad look in his face when he noticed you gaining consciousness; he didn’t speak, you (physically) couldn’t, neither of you had to—he could sense the disappointment in you, that he was going to help cover up such a violent assault, so violent you couldn’t imagine Bucky had ever tortured one of his enemies this way—maybe he fucked them up, and fucked them up bad, but raping someone was beyond.

It took a few days for you to be able to be able to speak coherently and sit up on your own after initially waking up—not once did Bucky visit.

But Steve did.

Bucky was extremely strict with you not getting involved in his business, not talking to any men, including his own. You had seen Steve a few times, spent a little time with him as you waited for Bucky to wrap something up, and gathered he was Bucky’s right hand man, but you’d never really spoken to him, and you got the sense he was under strict orders not to speak to you.

His visits were short and from afar, but you caught him watching through the window a few times with the most somber expression: he knew this had gone too far.

One night, Dr Banner had left, the nurse slipped out for the second, and you caught Steve through the window, mouthed the words “Help me.”

His eyes widened, he looked down both sides of the corridor and you were sure he was going to rush in and do something, get you out, or even just speak to you, if not for encouragement at least some form of brief conversation outside of basic health questions with Dr Banner would have done—he could even have yelled at you, you just felt like you needed to speak to someone—but he didn’t; he shook his head and left.

Three weeks later you could go back “home,” they said—Bucky’s penthouse wasn’t home. It wasn’t a hospital you were in, it was one of Banner’s labs with a few hospital beds, the drive to the penthouse was less than ten minutes. Bucky hadn’t visited. You had expected to see him in the car, but when you were put in, it was a blond instead.

The door shut, the car started rolling, and Steve didn’t look at you.

“Steve,” you breathed, though you couldn’t reach towards him with your arm in a sling, “Please help me.”

He stared straight ahead, but you saw him gulp; you knew he was opposed to this, opposed enough to go against Bucky? You couldn’t even beg, plead for him to help, you were still a little fucked out on pain killers, but you had noted that day you could get him to help, even in just the slightest way. You could.

Steve pushed you in on a wheelchair, and when the elevator opened to reveal the lavish foyer, Bucky stood with a glass of scotch in hand and a small smile, a soft look in his blue eyes you never thought you’d see again.

He crouched down, eye level with you, “I’ll never hurt you again. Never.” And you had heard that before, you knew better than to believe him, but you just wanted this to be over, you forced yourself to believe him as tears spilt from his eyes, just enough to get through hell.

Even through the drugs, you could feel your ribs sting.

Three months now, and you went down for a glass of water in the middle of the night, not that you needed it, but you needed to get out of the bed you shared with a devil. He stirred, asked where you were going, he knew you had a glass right next to you, but you told him you just needed to stretch your legs more than anything, but only to the kitchen. To your surprise, he didn’t protest.

You hobbled down the stairs, cursing the winding steps as you made your way down, slowly.

Upon entering the kitchen,

“Steve.”

You say as you spot him leaning against the counter.

“You need to leave.”

Tears spring to your eyes. You knew it; you knew there was good in him; you knew he could do it.

You nod furiously as you take a step towards him.

There’s a sound, a loud sound, and a hole in Steve’s head, red seeping from his forehead, down his face, blank blue eyes staring back at you.

You can’t even scream, there’s a hand on your mouth instantly. Now you shake your head, struggling to breathe under the force of a palm pressed against your lips, heavily breathing through your nose, tears streaming down your face with such speed you’re momentarily worried you’ll run dry, dehydrated yourself and collapse on the kitchen floor.

Maybe this time he’ll kill you.

A knee connects with the back of your bad one and you fall forward onto your hands and knees, that splintering pain shooting through your legs again. You drop onto your stomach with a cry, reaching shaky hands down to hold your knees.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky coos as he crouches. He runs a hand down your cheek which you can’t even slap away, your own holding your legs as you breathe so shakily and heavily you’re near hyperventilating, body trembling.

“That wasn’t to hurt you, I just needed to get you down, okay? I didn’t hurt you, see?” he tries, tone gentle and assuring.

You manage to stretch your neck back to look up the room. You hadn’t even heard Steve’s body hit the ground, but there it lays, blue eyes once full of emotion devoid of it, and still staring back at you. Blood pools around him, staining the pristine white of the ostentatious kitchen.

Bucky places a hand on the back of your neck, bends your head forward to face him again.

“I don’t want to do this again,” he murmurs, eyes welling with tears, “I don’t want to hurt you again, but you can’t leave me, angel, you know that; it hurts both of us, and everyone around, see? Steve’s dead, my best friend, because of you; you killed my best friend.”

You don’t have the will to fight anymore; you’re broken, physically and mentally. You want to just nod, and you want to apologise, but you can’t through silent screams leaving your throat as you try to calm yourself from the hot, unbearable pain in your knees.

“And I still love you. I know you’re confused, but you love me too. Doll, you can do anything to me; scream, kick, try to kill me, if that’s what you want… but don’t ever leave me.”

His voice goes dark as he emphasises those last few words, so dangerously low you’re worried you’ll slip into that tone and keep falling in, and those words, more so the way he said them, will haunt you forever.

“That’s the one thing: don’t leave. I know it’s been difficult, but look at you still standing. Everything can be fine, you just have to stay. I can change, just don’t leave. I love you.”

It’s not love, nowhere near close, and you wish he’d never used that word and that he’d never use it again, it’s some fucked up need to possess, keep and own, to have and to hold, as an object, it’s like he just wants a doll—maybe that’s why he calls you that.

He places his gun aside, deliberately away from you, you can tell, and sits cross-legged next to you. His fingertips lightly graze your left shoulder. You wince through your other frantic efforts to adjust to your much more prominent pain, and he snatches his hand away, like you’re hot to the touch. Slowly, he brings his fingertips back, and though you jerk slightly, he doesn’t pull away. Calloused fingers graze where your shoulder had been popped out of place, and so gently he does it for a moment you forget he’s the one that caused it.

He presses down harder, and you cry out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispers, over and over like a prayer. You look up at him and see that sinister glint in his eyes, that thing that possesses him, that look you know better than well, that look engraved into your mind, so deep it’s an integral part of you, at this point.

That sadistic glint. He will never change; he can’t change. And you can’t escape.

✪

[buckgasms]

"Bunny and Clyde"

I have no excuse for this.

How do we feel about dark!mob!Bucky and dark!crazy!slut!bunny!reader???? Well we're about to find out. I'm really outing myself as a slut here but you already all know this so 🙊

But still.... Damn...

Warnings: mob boss Bucky, mob violence, rough sex, blackmail, pet name (bunny), choking, come play?

It was without a doubt that you were Bucky's favourite girl. You might not currently be his girl, but for sure he favoured you over anyone else at your job.

You were a dancer at Bucky's nightclub, a popular hangout for the rich and infamous in the city. Bucky was certainly one of those, the biggest and baddest in fact. He stopped by the club frequently, and when he did, he always made sure you danced for the biggest tippers and would reserve a seat on his lap for you when he wanted to entertain guests. He would press kisses to your shoulders and pinch and squeeze your soft skin when he talked to you.

That was the extent of it, but you wanted more. Much more. He was gorgeous, strong, powerful and he clearly adored you. So there was no way you were going to let him slip out of your hands for some other girl to sink her claws into. You didn't know how you were going to do it, but that man was going to be yours, whatever it took.

-------------------✨------------------

One evening you found yourself in Bucky's office. He was chatting to some mob type about a deal that had appeared to have gone wrong. Bucky was furious, evident by his leg tapping, bouncing you up and down in his lap and in the way he squeezed at your thighs. The action which had your pussy fluttering as the build of his anger and frustration made you desperate to help him.

Abruptly he motioned you to stand and he pressed a little kiss to your cheek. "Will you stay here and wait for me Bunny? I got some business to deal with..." You nodded and sat down in his comfy leather seat as the two men left the room. You were immediately bored and started spinning the chair and rifling through his desk drawers.

You found a couple of guns which didn't really surprise you, lots of cash and some papers. You also found a little usb stick and you picked it up, fiddling with it until you decided to stick it into the laptop that sat on Bucky's desk. Your heart pounded as you clicked through the files.

Endless evidence of Bucky's misdeeds flashed before your eyes. Nothing that really shocked you, but the fact he had pictures and documents just seemed mad to you. If anyone had this, they'd own Bucky forever.... That had your mind spinning.....

-------------------✨------------------

You decided not to wait in Bucky's office as he had asked and you moved through the club, round the back corridors until you found what you were looking for. The door to the 'Red Room'. No one was allowed in there without Bucky's strict permission, and you certainly didn't have that.

You inched closer to the door and heard the sound of fighting or more like a beating. There were sounds of talking and occasional grunts and you almost turned heel and ran, but you had a mission to finish and that kept you rooted to the spot. You shivered a little in the cold hallway, your skimpy dancers outfit not doing much to keep you warm. Suddenly the door you were creeping behind burst open. The burly guy from Bucky's office was glaring at you and behind him you saw some poor soul bruised and bloodied in a chair in the room.

"What the fuck?" You heard Bucky call out and the man grabbed your arm and dragged you into the room. Bucky's anger was evident and he ran a hand over his face. "Get him outta here" he said quietly and the burly man dragged the man out of the room and left you both standing there alone. You gave him a look over, you couldn't help but feel a rush of lust as you noticed the blood on his knuckles, the rolled up shirt sleeves, the sweat on his brow and the anger in his eyes.

"I didn't mean to interrupt" you offered with a faux innocence that did nothing to calm Bucky's temper. "What the fuck you playing at Bunny?" He spat and you walked towards him. "I could fucking kill you y'know" he raged, grabbing your throat and pressing you up against the wall but you just giggled. "Well that would be a terrible waste wouldn't it?"

Your attitude shocked him into slightly letting loose his grip on your throat but he kept his eyes fixed on you. "Plus, if you did, a copy of your naughty files would end up all over the news... And that would be so sad..." You held up his little usb and waved it in front of him. He narrowed his eyes and let go of you.

"What do you want Bunny?" You rolled your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Everything. I want you." He pressed you up against the wall again, and glared at you. "You're telling me, you're willing to risk me throwing you in the Hudson, to be my girlfriend?" You laughed again, fingers smoothing over his shoulders, your legs slotting between his. "Not girlfriend, you cheat on all your girlfriends..." You pouted and he smirked as you ground your heat down on his thigh. "I want to be your Bunny. You're only Bunny. Wanna be spoiled and fucked and make you happy all the time." He pressed his thigh harder and you gasped as the pressure sent pleasure shooting through your core. "Besides, everyone knows I'm your favourite girl, why not make it official?"

He moved in close, his lips brushing yours and you whimpered as he squeezed your throat tight. "Reckon you can handle it Bunny? Think you can manage everything I got to give you?" You captured his lips in a kiss and you nodded making him chuckle darkly, "I don't think you can Bun Bun."

You tugged at his shirt and mewled at him, "I can, I can take it, give it to me Bucky please?" With that he lifted you off the floor and carried you over to a little table and pushed your shivering body to lie down. "Such a stupid little Bunny, all this for some cock huh? Always knew I had a little slut sitting on my lap, didn't take much did it? Have you desperate for me to fuck ya? Think you're so fucking smart huh?" You whimpered and whined as he tore your pretty costume apart, exposing your body to him.

He spread your pussy lips apart and spat harshly on your cunt before using his cock to spread the wetness around. Your eyes widened at his size and you were about to protest when he pushed your chest so you were flat on your back again. "Bunny, you said you wanted everything. Don't be fucking ungrateful now you're getting it..." He sank in, stretching you painfully, making you cry out and claw at him. He stilled until you had adjusted, but he spent the time slapping and pinching your breasts, leaning down and biting at you, kissing you roughly and pinning your hands down on the hard surface.

Your whole body was on fire, everything you ever wanted in this moment. You wanted to laugh and cry all at once. Deciding to rile him even more you pulled him into a kiss, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood before rolling your hips. "Are you just gonna lie here panting on top of me, or are you gonna fuck me?" He barked out a laugh before gripping your throat again and starting to pound into your cunt with no mercy. You cried out and filled the dark room with your begs and pleas as he hit every spot in you perfectly.

"Fuck bunny, so fucking tight" he strained and tightened his grip on your throat until your face turned pink. "Taking me so goddam well... Jesus always knew you'd be a good girl for me..." He rubbed your clit with his thumb and you desperately gasped for air as pleasure streaked through your body, down to the tips of your toes. He growled as you squeezed him but he managed to hold himself in check. "Get on your fucking knees Bunny" he ordered and dragged you as you scrambled to kneel at his feet.

You grabbed his cock and helped him jerk it off over your pretty face, sucking at the sensitive head, making him groan as you licked him up and down until he pulled you away. He rubbed the come into your face and pushed some into your greedy mouth and you sucked hard on his fingers, happily swallowing them and letting him choke you a little with them. He looked at you and you grinned up at him, "told ya" you teased as you clung to his thigh and kissed his cock one more time.

"You tryna kill me Bunny?"

[navybrat817]

Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense

As you lovelies know, October is a time for tricks, treats, and more. While I don't have anything planned for Kinktober, I do have some nonsense in mind. Still with me?

Similar to my Naughty & Nice Nonsense, I plan to share various one-shots and ficlets throughout the month of October. Each pairing will be revealed on the day I post and shared on my sideblog, @navybrat817-sideblog. It may be dark, fluffy, smutty, or a combination of things. It may be 500 words or over 3k. It may incorporate an Autumn or a Halloween theme. Who knows? It's nonsense! 😂

In fact, I'm calling it Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! I'll be using that as a tag, so feel free to filter if you don't wish to see these fics. Moodboard and banner by yours truly. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics. Enjoy! 🧡

🎃 - 10/3 - Within You (Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Reader)

🎃 - 10/6 - Easy as Pie (Andy Barber x Reader)

🎃 - 10/9 - How Far Down (Mickey Henry x Reader)

🎃 - 10/12 - Rules and Chaos (Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

🎃 - 10/15 - The Red Woods (Lumberjack!Steve Rogers x Reader)

🎃 - 10/18 - Teacher's Pet (Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

🎃 - 10/21 - Hollow (Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

🎃 - 10/24 - See Through You (Dark!Nick Fowler x Reader)

🎃 - 10/27 - Jump Scare (Motocross!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

🎃 - 10/30 - Mission Report (Incubus!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Incubus!Steve Rogers)

Love and thanks to you lovelies for the support. 🧡

[hopingforevillove]

MOB!BUCKY

@sinner-as-saint

A Sweeter Place

Predestined

Hostage of Your Eyes

Love Made Me Crazy

Twilight Moments With You

Wreck My Plans

Purpose

I am Your Fall

Come Home

Night Hours

Yours to Wield

Into Your Arms

Ruin

Good to You

@kinanabinks

Adventures with his little Fairy

@buckgasms

Bunny and Clyde

The Bet

@bucky-barnes-diaries

Night & Mornings

His Most Prized Possession

@raysheart

Little lily

Come Home

@cryptidcasanova

My Devotion

R U Mine?

@wintersldr1

If you were mine

Tell me you’re mine

Taken

@chrisevansredbelt

Love and War

@christowhore

Eye for an Eye

@youlightmeupfinn

Handled

My keeper

Noises

Dance with Me

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Happy Couple 3

Part 1 Part 2

I wasn’t going to do it. I wasn’t! But here we are. I make no promise and am just following a whim.

Summary: Your father makes a deal to marry you to his top capo. (mob au)

Warnings: dark elements such a mob business and intimidation, spanking, threats. More to be added as they become relevant. You know what I write typically so you know what to expect.

Thank you all for the encouragement and I hope you enjoy.❤️

You choose a red satin halter dress and a pair of pointed Louboutins. The diamond studs gifted to you by your father on your sweet sixteen and a sparkly clutch finish the look, giving you the confidence to face Bucky. He’s always been slightly intimidating, all of your father’s men are scary given their line of work, but his charm adds another layer of fear.

Still, your father is your father. Bucky might have his blessing but he’s not familia yet. As you come down to the foyer, the click of your heels echoing in announcement of your descent, you find him admiring the portrait of you and your father propped up on a silver-trimmed table.

He shifts his feet to face you, his attention lingering on the frame for just a second. His blue eyes flit over and you see the twitch in the corners, the crow’s feet creasing handsomely. You get to the bottom and set your jaw.

“You said something about dinner.”

“Sweetheart,” he says breathlessly, “mmph, fuckin’ christ, look at you.”

“I hope you know I’m getting dessert. I always get dessert,” you lift your nose and strut past him.

“I love dessert,” he follows you, brushing by to open the door ahead of you. 

A waft of his cologne tickles your nose and you don’t look at him as you continue outside without pause. You sense his pursuit and move your hand behind you, batting him away with your clutch before he can clap your ass. You shoo him with the glittering bag and click your tongue.

“Ah!” You warn and spin on your heel, “you’re a traditional man, aren’t you?”

“Hm?” A dimple deepens in his cheek as he meets your glare with a placid grin.

“You said you’re a man of tradition. If we’re going to… be married,” you find the words hard to get out as they raise goosebumps along your skin, “then you’re going to have to slow down.”

“Slow down? What do ya mean, doll?” He reaches for you, gripping your hips as he steps close.

“This,” you touch his hand, circling two his thick fingers with all of yours, “save all that for the wedding night.”

He snorts, “you’re not serious? This isn’t 1950–”

“Oh, it isn’t? Right, then whatever my father told you is null and void, right? It’s the twenty-first century, a woman can make her own decisions.”

“Now, don’t you play with me,” he wiggles his hand free of your grasp, “we both know you’re not a virgin. Not flaunting that ass like you do.”

“Excuse me,” you gasp and put your hand to your chest, “are you questioning my virtue?”

“You are ridiculous.”

“I am?” You muse, “well, I hear there are lots of other fish in the sea. Mob wives are a dime a dozen.”

“But you aren’t, sweetheart,” he grabs you by the waist, firmly, pulling you towards him. His heat encases you as you stumble in your steep heels and push your hand and clutch to his chest, “fine, let’s be old fashioned. I’ll settle for a kiss.”

“We haven’t even gone to dinner yet.”

“You know, I don’t usually ask,” his voice turns rigid.

“Alright, fine,” you flutter your lashes as your eyes roll back, “a kiss.”

You pucker your lips and lean in. He does the same and you swivel your neck suddenly so his lips catch your cheek. You giggle and nudge him away, slipping free of him. He catches your wrist and pulls you back so stagger clumsily in your heels.

“That’s not what I asked for, sweetheart.”

“A kiss. You got a kiss.”

“Don’t,” he raises a finger as he grits his teeth, “I got a feeling your daddy didn’t give you enough spankings.”

“And yours didn’t give you enough hugs, huh?”

“Don’t think I won’t bend you over right here.”

“You wouldn’t dare–” You scoff and roll your eyes again.

Suddenly you’re spun around, off-balance in your stilettos. He twists your arm up behind you and grabs your neck with his other hand. You whimper as you stand on your toes, straining as the pressure aches in your shoulder. He pushes on you as you resist, clenching your jaw as you bite down on your anger.

“What the fuck are you–”

“You keep running that mouth,” he shoves so hard you can’t resist. You bend forward so you don’t topple completely. He pinches your neck as he lets go of your arm and trails his hand down your spine. “And I’m gonna keep teaching you lessons.”

He spreads his hand across your ass and you squirm. His fingertips reach the short hem of the dress and he pulls back, a rush of air before his palm lands. The impact stings and radiates down your thighs. You whine and reach back, trying to shield his next slap. He swats you away and gropes you meanly.

“Are you gonna be a good girl?”

“Let me go! How dare you?! My father–”

“Daddy knows the deal he made. He doesn’t need the details but I’ll be more than happy to tell him everything.”

“Get off! Now! You fucking old–”

He raises his hand and spanks you again. You yelp and teeter in your shoes, his nails digging into the sides of your neck.

“Ow, you fucker–”

“Clean up the mouth before I do,” he snarls as he kneads your ass, “old as I am, I’ll still snap you in two, doll.”

“You’re fucked–”

“Baby, this ain’t a negotiation, let’s get that straight because there’s no way you’re winning. So here’s what happens. I’m gonna give you one last tap, as a warning, and you’re gonna stand up, give me a kiss, and we’re going to have a nice dinner. You get your dessert and I get to watch you eat it. How’s that?”

You moan as his grip on your neck sends a pang up your skull and you touch his hand lightly, “alright, you’re hurting me.”

“I told you, I don’t wanna hurt you but I never said I would,” he slaps your ass again, as promised, and lets you go. 

His touch glosses down your arm as you stand and rub your neck. He pulls on your elbow until you turn to him and he presents his lips in an expectant pucker. You sigh and square your shoulders. You inch closer and bring your hands up to cradle his square jaw. You close your eyes and lean in until your mouth is on his.

He purrs as his hand settles on your hips and he kisses you back. His tongue flicks across your lips before you draw away, your cheeks hot and tingly. You arch your brow and look away, trying to appear frustrated rather than flustered.

“Can we go,” you sneer, “I’m hungry.”

[buckyalpine]

Practice

18+ 

Dark-ish Mob bucky barnes x virgin maid reader 

Warnings: Dub con, manipulation but make it sexy, possessiveness, jealously, SMUT, innocence kink, virginity taking, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, lactation kink, Dom Bucky and the tiniest appearance of sub Bucky. a smidgen of fluff? 

What have I done. Reader is very innocent, Bucky is a menace. A MENACE. (he really does like you though) This is so filthy, I’m sorry. So much pent up nastiness. Just filth right through. A lil fucked up. Just a lil. or a lot depending on your limits, the ending is meant to be happy okay? 

-

Bucky’s eyes were locked on you, watching you quietly dust a few shelves, the hem of your skirt riding up as you reached for a vase that rested on top of it. He had to adjust himself as you bent over to put away some books on the bottom of the shelf. Your sweet innocent cotton panties were on full display; the tiny maid dress did nothing to cover any of your modesty. 

Fuck, he loved that uniform. 

He cocked his head, as you nervously lingered around his office for a second longer instead of leaving immediately as you usually did. You carefully approached his desk, clinging onto your duster for dear life while Bucky sat back in his chair, simply nodding for you speak. 

“I-May I have the night off, sir?” You kept your eyes trained on your feet, not daring look up at him while he smirked to himself, enjoying how you bit your lip, fingers gripping the duster, anxiously waiting for his answer. 

Always so polite. 

“Hm, what for?” 

What did his pretty maid have to do, that was so important. 

“I-I have a date” You squeaked out, swallowing thickly as your mob moss wordlessly stared at you. 

Oh. 

“I see” His jaw clenched slightly, “with who” You blinked, picking up on the coldness of Bucky’s voice, shifting on your feet, now wishing you hadn’t said anything. 

“Um-John, sir” 

“Walker?” You nodded, while Bucky continued to glare at you, softening his gaze again. “Innocent thing like you...” He cocked an eyebrow, eyes raking up and down your body, “You think you’ll please him?” 

“P-please him?” You whispered, while Bucky smirked, making you more flustered. "I don’t understand, Mr. Barnes”

“I’m sure he’ll be expecting a lot kotenok, especially at the end of your night” 

“What will he expect?” Your voice was hardly a whisper, swallowing thickly at the way your stomach clenched over the pet name he had for you. You were genuinely confused over what he was referring to. 

“I’m sure he’ll want those pretty lips all over him princess” 

“Like kissing?” You asked innocently while Bucky let out a dark chuckle, shaking his head. 

“No doll, he’ll want more than that” 

“I’ve never done anything before” You look at him with doe eyes, meeting Bucky’s lust hungry ones, his length straining against the fabric of his pants. 

“Anything?” his cock grew harder, unable to contain the way he was throbbing, “You’re a virgin?” His cock started to leak the second you nodded. 

His innocent little doll, as sweet as she looked. 

No one had ever touched you before. 

No one else ever would. 

Your heart started to beat faster, feeling stickiness dampen your panties. Why did that always happen when you were near him. You glanced at the clock, realizing it’d be time for you to get ready soon. 

“May I go sir?” 

“You should practice then, hm?” He ignored your question, eyes boring into you, watching the way you squeezed your thighs together. “You wouldn't want to disappoint him”

You shook your head, you would never want to disappoint your date, you were surprised he even took an interest in you. Still, you weren’t sure...Bucky noted your hesitation, beckoning you to come closer, his legs spread while you stood in front of his chair.

“I-but John...” you couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy, wondering if it would be right to do anything with Bucky when someone else had asked you out.

“It’s okay princess, I can help you” His voice was soft, pulling your hand to stand between his legs “You’re not doing anything wrong, I just want you to feel comfortable when you go out with him” 

You nodded, feeling a little better while Bucky adjusted himself, his hand brushing over his boner. 

“You can practice on me, okay?” You felt the ache between your legs grow stronger, seeing his erection on full display, his cock nearly bursting out of his pants. “I’ll tell you what to do honey, don’t worry” 

Bucky undid the button of his pants, unzipping them, and tugging them down slightly, pulling his cock out of his briefs, stroking himself.

“Come here baby, get on your knees for me” 

You hesitantly kneeled in front of him, his thick dripping cock, inches away from your face, pearls of precum endlessly beading from the head of his swollen length. 

“You’ve never touched a cock, have you” He smirked when you shook your head, taking your hand in his and wrapping it around him. “I’ll show you how to stroke it” His fist wrapped around yours, his calloused rough hands were a stark difference compared to your smaller soft ones. “You feel how hard I am for you sweets? m’sure his cock will be nice and hard for you too” There was a slight taunt in his voice, never, he’d never let these perfect hands touch another man. 

He groaned at the feeling of how your skin felt, jerking his cock, guiding you to go up and down his length, from the base to the top, avoiding the tip on purpose. 

“It’s so sensitive here baby” He guided your hand to wrap around the tip of his cock, taking your thumb and brushing it over his slit. He hissed, feeling your soft fingers, moving moving you to massage the tip of his cock “Wrap your hand around and twist it when you touch me there, it feels so good” He let go of your hand, watching you do exactly what he showed you. 

“Good girl, doing such a good job princess” You preened at his praise, focused on quick long strokes from the base, squeezing gently around the head. “You learn fast, huh baby?” 

“Thank you sir” You whispered, your breath hitching when he ran his fingers through your hair. 

“You want to practice how to suck a cock kotenok?” You blinked, leaning closer between his legs while he tugged his pants down further to spread his thighs apart more. Your stomach flipped at his soft scent, his length slick with his arousal. He held his cock to your lips, gently bringing you closer. “Don’t be scared doll, it’s just me. You’re practicing remember?” 

You nodded, remembering Bucky wasn’t going to judge you though you couldn't help but feel nervous. 

“Taste me first sweet heart” Bucky bit his lip, hearing the softest moan slip past your lips when you swiped your tongue across the tip, licking off his precum. “See how wet you make my cock doll, that’s what happens when you’re doing such a good job, its gets so leaky” 

“Give me your hand sweets” He tugged your hand to push them between his legs, his heavy sack sitting in your palm “You feel how heavy they are baby, so full of cum. Rub them doll, just like that baby, play with them in those pretty hands” You were careful, your hands softly touching him, not wanting to hurt him accidently. Bucky nearly came on the spot, the vein on the side of his cock pulsing. 

“Ready princess?” He brought his length to your mouth, loving the way you hesitantly parted your lips slightly, letting him push just the tip. “Use that soft tongue baby, suckle on it, like you’re drinking from me, nurse on my cock baby, such a good girl, perfect warm wet mouth”

Bucky couldn’t help but lean back in his chair, admiring the way your mouth felt, your lips wrapped around the tip, sucking softly while your tongue swiped around the head.  

“Swirl your tongue around, that’s it, give me your other hand” He helped you jerk his cock while you continued to suck him, your other hand still toying with his balls, loving how warm and soft his skin felt. 

“Tug them baby, harder, tug my balls” Bucky groaned, feeling you squeeze them, “Wrap your hand tighter around my dick, c’mon princess, jerk me nice and hard while you suck” 

“Am I doing okay?” Your lips were swollen, glistening with his arousal, pulling off his cock with a pop, hoping you were making him feel good and not wasting his time. 

“You’re doing perfect princess, you ready to try something else now?” 

“Yes, sir” 

“Take a nice deep breath through your nose, you’re gonna take my whole cock in your mouth” You did as you were told as he guided your head to take his full length, making you gag as soon as his tip nudged down your throat. “There we go, here, hold onto me baby, that’ll make it easier” 

Your hands moved to grasp his thighs, your nails digging into his skin, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes. He groaned at the sting of your nails, the prickles of pain getting him off more. He pushed his cock in deeper, moaning when your nails dug into his skin, nearly breaking it.  

“Look at what a good job you’re going baby, got my cock so hard for you-fuck-” His teeth were gritted, rocking his hips off the chair, fucking your face. He grasped the back of your head, moving it up and down, his balls tightening, cum ready to blow from his cock.  “That’s it, that’s it, doing so good kotenok, don’t stop” 

“Be a good girl and suck my cock, there we go pretty girl” He couldn't hold off any longer, all his muscles tensed, his orgasm aching at the base of his cock. 

“FUCK” His movements stilled, spilling into your mouth with his warm cum, your tongue and throat coated with his seed. You didn’t think twice, swallowing every drop, pulling off his cock, letting his soaked softening length slap against his skin. He hissed, tucking his cock back in, buttoning his pants while you licked his salty heady taste off your lips. 

“Did you swallow princess” His thumb brushed your cheek, wondering why you didn’t hurry off to spit, the content dazed look on your face making his already sensitive dick twitch again. You nodded shyly, while Bucky groaned, grabbing you and smashing his lips onto yours, tasting himself on you. You whimpered against his lips, nervous with how your arousal had dripped onto your thighs, nothing made the ache go away. 

“What is it printsessa?” He smirked, his nose trailing up the column of your neck. You let out a shuddered breath, feeling his lips brush your skin. 

“I-I feel-” Your words were breathless, too shy to tell him your panties were soaked, the throbbing and aching between your legs was getting worse.

“Do you need something doll?” He cooed, pulling you up to your feet, and grasping your hips to straddle his thigh. You whimpered, feeling his thigh flex under you, the material of your panties rubbing your clit. You could feel your pussy throb, it was too much and not enough at the same time, you knew you needed something, more. 

“I need...” Your voice trailed off, your body stiff, holding yourself back form rubbing yourself on him to relieve the throbbing. 

“What do you need baby, did sucking my cock get your pussy all tingly and needy” His eyes were blown with lust, cupping your cheek, his thumb tugging down your lower lip. “It’s normal princess, you want me to make that feeling go away?” He whispered, smirking against your skin when you whined, your fingers digging into his shirt. 

“You don’t want to go on your date like this, huh doll, you want me to help you?” You nodded, burying your face in his neck, moaning when he firmly held your hips, guiding you to grind and rub yourself on his thigh. “That’s it, we’ll make that achy feeling go away baby” He moved you to press on him harder, ignoring the way his cock was hard again, feeling your slick dampen his pants. 

“How does that feel doll” 

“Feels-it feels good” You whimpered, panting against his skin, your body felt like it was on fire, you had never felt this much pleasure in your life and he wasn’t even touching you. You could feel yourself climb higher and higher, all the pent up pleasure looking for a way to release

“I-I’m-I-Sir, it feels good, it-I need more-” You cried out, while Bucky growled, rocking you back and forth faster; he could feel your body tense, the scent of your sweet arousal growing stronger. 

“You gonna cum baby? Is that little clit throbbing, you’re soaking me princess, let go, cum for me, be a good girl and cum” His words threw you off the edge, your nails digging into his shoulders, grinding on him, squeezing your thighs around his, moaning into his neck. Pleasure and warmth washed over you in waves, your body convulsing while Bucky held you close. 

“Feel better sweets?” He rubbed your back while you clung onto him, feeling limp, your mind was hazy, not wanting to leave his arms-

Wait-

No.

John. 

Your date. 

“Better” Your voice was small, standing on shaky legs as he helped you off his lap. You gasped when he held you in place, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. 

“Let’s see how you taste baby, let me show you how he should clean you up after”  He tugged your panties off, running a finger through your folds, gathering your slick and licking it clean, his eyes rolling back at the taste of your arousal.  As much as he wanted to bury his face in your needy cunt, that would have to wait until he had you spread on his bed. “Don’t let him waste a drop baby, it’s not nice to leave such a pretty doll soaked and messy after making her cum” He dipped his fingers back, gathering whatever you had to offer, greedily tasting you as if you were the sweetest taste in the world. 

“You taste perfect babydoll, go get ready so you’re not late” You were so flustered you didn’t notice him tuck your panties away in his pocket. “You remember everything I showed you, hm? How to use that pretty tongue, how to get a cock, nice hard and wet” He cooed, still not letting you go. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, some part of your body screaming to stay and practice more, you wanted to be a good girl and learn everything-

no. 

“We can practice more later baby, don’t worry” Bucky let go of your hand while you quickly ran off to your room to get ready “Enjoy yourself doll” Bucky smirked, digging into his pocket, puling his phone out. 

****

“What happened sweets” Bucky hid the smile on his face with concern seeing you in your perfect dress, still in your room, far past your date time. 

“He cancelled” You sat quietly at the edge of your bed, looking at your phone, the last message from him stating he wasn’t interesting in seeing you. It stung. He was the one that chased after you and you had bothered to spend time getting ready for him just to drop everything at the last minute. 

“I’m sorry princess, get some rest, you can have the morning off” He softly closed your door, smiling to himself,  sending Steve a quick thank you before going to his room. 

No one else would ever have you. 

Every since you had practiced with Bucky once, he had insisted you keep practicing so you wouldn't forget anything, always reminding you all this was just between you two and giving you new ways to toy with his cock using your mouth. Of course you didn’t mind, desperate to learn from him, let him teach you. You had gone back to him nearly every single night, craving his bittersweet taste on your tongue and humping and rubbing yourself to satisfaction right after. 

“I think we should try something else today” You gasped, as Bucky lifted you to wrap your legs around his waist; you’d just came all over his thigh, it was part of your nightly routine at this point. “Let me show you more princess” He stood up from his office chair with you wrapped around him, taking you to his room. He set you down on his bed, the large mattress firm with warm soft sheets. 

“Has anyone seen you naked before?” He knew the answer. And yet he loved being reminded that only his eyes got to see your nude body, “Don’t be shy baby, I won’t tell anyone I saw you like this. Take your clothes off” He whispered, nearly drooling as you took your uniform off with shaky hands, letting the dress pool around your ankles. “Here, let me help you” 

Your heart raced as he laid you down on his pillows, his hand snaking behind you back to unclasp your bra, throwing it somewhere across his room. He tugged your panties down, a string of your arousal still clinging to them. He willed himself not to bury his face into your soaked panties, and rub them all over his cock when he already had you spread out for him. 

“You have such a pretty pussy baby” He murmured, his eyes locked on your soaked swollen clit, already sensitive from your orgasm minutes ago. “So gorgeous” 

“It-it is?” You whispered, your face heating up, squeaking when he nipped your inner thigh, soothing the area again with his tongue. 

“It’s perfect princess” You could feel his warm breath against your folds, your thighs trembling to squeeze shut feeling exposed but he held your legs apart. He could see your needy entrance clenching, your clit throbbing but you were to shy to say anything, not even sure what to ask for. “You’re dripping, tell me what you want” 

You shook your head, biting your lip while he continued to tease your inner thighs, hoping he’d know what to do. 

“You want me to touch you here?” He kissed your folds, making you whimper but it wasn’t enough. “Maybe here?” He moved up further, dragging his tongue through your slick making you moan loudly, god he was so close, just a little- 

“Is it this baby” He flicked his tongue on your clit making you cry out, gripping onto his sheets. “Your sensitive little bud needs attention?” You nodded, your jaw slack when he started to lick and suck, gazing up at you from between your legs. 

“It’s-it’s so sensitive I-” You withered on the bed, it felt good, almost too good, his tongue and lips working magic, toying with your cunt. 

“I know baby, gotta get you used to the feeling, huh? I’ll take care of you sweets, make it easier for you, you’ll let me kiss this pretty clit everyday? Make it all better?” He let out a dark chuckle when you nodded, latching back onto your clit. He ate you out until you came all over his face, wasting no time to strip all his clothes off right after. 

“Gonna stretch you baby, you’ve never had a cock inside you before, let me show you how it feels?”

“Will it hurt sir?” You whispered, nervous while he stroked himself above you, you’d taken him in your mouth just fine but getting him inside you....

“Call me daddy” 

“Will-will it hurt daddy?”

“Daddy’s gonna go slow, okay?”

You nodded, spreading your legs open further for him, gasping when you felt his cockhead rub through your folds. 

“You like when I rub my cock on you?” 

“Feels good daddy” Your shaky hands came to grip onto his arms, nervous when he started to press the tip against your entrance.

“Breathe, breathe for daddy, gonna make you feel good sweet girl” He whispered, as he started to push his cock inside you, cooing and kissing you softly while you cried out, digging your nails into his skin from the stretch and sting. 

“Daddy, its too much!” 

“Shhhh, it’s because its your first time, open up for me kotenok” 

You whimpered under him, wrapping your legs and arms around his body, trying to find a way to ground yourself.  

“Gonna go slow baby, I know, your pussy is so tight, you need a fat cock to stretch you baby, trust me okay?”  As soon as he was fully sheathed inside you, he was more feral then ever. He kissed your temple as he started to rock his hips, struggling to keep his pace slow and gentle. 

No one else could have you. 

He was going to make you his one way or another. 

His cock nearly burst each time you cried out for him, the more you moaned the more he wanted you to be his. He didn’t want you to ever think about going out on a date with another man, not when you already had him. 

“You look so pretty wrapped around my cock malyshka“ 

There was one way he could keep you. His balls tightened against his body at the thought’, it was perfect. 

“M’gonna make you a mommy, m’gonna be your daddy, gonna get you nice and pregnant, keep you all just for me baby” 

“Daddy!” Your eyes shot open, your pussy clenching at his words, you sounded like a porn star when he started to pound into you faster. 

“I am your fuckin’ daddy. You’re all mine, m’the only man who’ll ever fucking touch you, touch this sweet pussy, taste it, fuck it, make love to it, you’re mine princess. You’re. Fucking. Mine” He pulled his cock out, flipping you over and shoving your face into the mattress. He slammed his cock back in, grunting, jack hammering his cock into you, loving the way you made a white creamy mess on his dick. 

Sweet baby was probably ovulating. Perfect. 

You cried out in pleasure, gripping onto his sheets as he railed you from behind, his hips snapping against your skin, fingers digging into your hips. Your mind was still reeling from his words, your mind racing. Some part of your body was screaming for him to fill you up but-

“Ready baby? Ready for daddy’s babies?” He growled, continuing to thrust into you as you collapsed onto the bed, feeling him even deeper at this angle. He brought his knees up slightly to position himself better, rutting and fucking you, keeping his cock deep inside you. 

“I-I can’t get pregnant now daddy” You whimpered, while he pulled out to let you lie down again, shoving his cock right back in. 

“Why not princess”  He continued to thrust into you, gently cupping your cheek, the blue in his eyes nearly non existent.

“I-m’not ready yet, can’t daddy” You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks, fuck you wanted this so bad but you still didn’t even have your own place, worried about money you had saved up-Bucky could see your mind racing over mundane issues. 

“Do you trust daddy angel?” You nodded sniffling, still moaning softly as he started to rock his hips faster again “I’ll take care of you malyshka, you don’t have to worry about anything” You felt conflicted but it didn’t matter, not when he was buried so deep in your warmth, his soft lips kissing you all over between sweet words. 

“You’re gonna live with me all the time, okay? M’gonna get you pregnant baby, you’re gonna be all mine. Wanna get you pregnant so badly princess, please? Just let me put a baby in you, I’ll take care of you so well, please pretty girl. Tell me you’re ready baby, tell me you want me babies”

“I-I want your babies daddy!” You moaned out, your body moved on its own, wrapping around him, your cunt clenching and fluttering, screaming for his cum. “Wan’ you to get me pregnant!”   

“FUCK Keep saying it baby, say you want my babies”

“I want daddy’s babies” 

“AGAIN” He snarled against your neck, your sweet begging making his cock swell and throb. He started to fuck you as hard as he could, chasing his high, desperate to knock you up. He’d fuck you as many times as he had to until it took. 

“FUCK Daddy PLEASE” 

“Gonna put my babies in you, can’t wait to see you pregnant baby, you’re gonna look so beautiful, so fucking full of me, you’re mine-fucking hell- you’re mine” 

“All yours!” You cried out, cumming and gushing all over his cock, your head thrown back on his pillows. Bucky roared against your neck, his hips stilling, pouring loads of his seed into your soaked cunt. It didn’t matter how many rounds it took. He was going to keep going until he saw your belly swell. 

A few months later 

“Y/n” You could hear him call you from the bedroom, huffing as you clambered off the couch, making your way upstairs. You were in nothing but one of his shirts, some of the buttons at the bottom undone to make room for your tummy. Bucky groaned as soon as you stepped into the room, he’d seen you like that plenty of times and yet still....

If it weren’t for possible prying eyes and other house keepers, he would have forbade you from wearing clothes at all. You waddled into his room, your growing belly protruding from under his shirt your pouty face just made him more feral than ever, every single primal urge desperate to take over. 

“Daddy’s hungry” He beckoned you to, setting his book down, biting his lip, pulling you to straddle his lap. He threw your top over your head leaving you bare except for your panties. 

“You’re gonna feed our baby so well” Bucky groaned, looking at your swelling breasts, your nipples pebbled and aching. 

“It’s sore” you whined when he traced over them, your body sensitive to the slightest touches. “Hurts, feels too heavy” 

“Maybe you should let me help you mama, practice now for when our little one comes. Get used to the feeling” He dipped his head down, taking a nipple into his mouth, suckling, groaning when he felt your sweet warmth start to flow. 

“You taste so good, sweetest milk ever baby” He greedily drank more from you, moaning and slurping every drop as if he had been starved. “Feeding daddy do good” He moaned, his hands rubbing over your swollen belly, you were so perfectly full of him, he wasn’t going to waste a second to get you pregnant again as soon as your little one was born. 

“You can’t drink this much after our baby is born James” 

James. Every since you had started calling him by his first name, Bucky didn’t know what to do with himself, it made his cock jump. 

“You gonna feed daddy too angel” He latched onto your other breast, continuing to suckle. “Because I get so hungry for you baby, n’you take care of me so well” 

You couldn't help but moan at his words, you loved how filthy and debauched he got for you. 

“You gonna let me drink from you whenever I want baby? Even when your sleeping? No more sleep shirts mama, wanna be able to drink your milk whenever I want” You were so lost in his filthy world, you didn’t notice he’d pulled his cock out, stroking himself while latched onto you. “Don’t care if your sleeping, wanna drink mommy’s warm milk whenever I want” 

Your pussy clenched around nothing, there was something about how desperate he was that that made you feel just as needy. 

“You want my milk baby?” You cooed, your eyes growing wide when you noticed he had his cock out, pink and leaking. 

“Want it bad baby” He pulled your panties to the side, bringing you down to warm his cock, while he continued to lap at you, there was no way he was going to ever leave you alone, he had to keep you pregnant forever. “Feed me like I’m your baby” 

Your hand’s naturally went to cradle his head to your breast, stroking his hair while he held you close, your firm tummy pressed against him, keeping his cock wet and warm. You cooed, stroking his cheeks, kissing his forehead, you’d do anything he asked, you loved being good for him. He hummed with approval, he loved when you practiced new things with him, his pretty sweet pregnant doll. 

“You learn so fast mama” 

Tags:

@glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen​  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots​  @goldylions​  @high-functioning-lokipath​ @morganemorganite-blog​  @kingfleury​   @peaches1958​   @spiderman-stilinski​   @peaceinourtime82​  @gublur​   @wintersmelodie​ @geeky-politics-46​   @lolawassad​  @almosttoopizza​   @a-poor-gryffindork​ @alternativeprincess​   @buckycallsmeaslut​    @kamaria-sweet-writes​  @charmedbysarge​    @xnorthstar3x​  @kryoee7​ @alina02​  @gh0stgurl​    @polishprincess999​ @jessybarnes​ @alltheficsiwant​ @chemtrails-club​  @eralen​

[buckets-and-trees]

DEVOUR: a Bucky x Reader short series

a short series centered around a mostly-dark mob boss Bucky Barnes and a female!Chef!Reader at a high end restaurant

True achievement in the restaurant industry requires a relentless drive. No compromises. You’ve risen through the ranks, and when your mentor retires, you’re rightly given the mantle of executive chef at Devour. On your night of ascension, the dining room is packed, and among the guests is notorious mob boss Bucky Barnes - someone equally as relentless in getting what he wants.

Content Warnings (detailed in the beginning of each part): imbalanced power dynamics, bribery, workplace manipulation, NON/DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit language, risk of being caught, food play, knife play, nipple/breast play, vaginal fingering, forced orgasm, edging, unprotected vaginal intercourse, cream pie

SERIES:

salt

fat

acid

heat - coming soon

EXTRAS:

→ Series Playlist

Drabbles: mint (a week or two after heat) custard (first winter holidays together) yeast (tbd point after the series)

Asks: wearing each other's things, comforting each other, and domestic life for you and Bucky

[awhhhflush]

The Meeting

Mob!Bucky x Reader x Steve Rogers (Massive warning - this fic is dark.)

I'd recommend listening to this for this chapter!

Warnings (apply to the whole series): drugging, mafia/gang activity, criminal activity, age gap (reader is over the age of 18), arson, death, murder, coercion/peer pressure (non-sexual), manipulation/brainwashing, parental issues (a.k.a daddy issues), abuse of power, sort of stockholm syndrome?

Summary: Left to your own devices whilst your mother joins socialite groups with the other rich moms in town and whilst your father deals with those business troubles he's been having, you decide to explore your surroundings, and make a new friend on the way.

Fine. Maybe a miniskirt and Mary Janes weren't the best fashion choice for exploring the woods down the street, but you were yet to have unpacked the entire contents of your wardrobe. It was the best you could do. Besides, it would hopefully make a nice impression on anybody who saw you. The outfit painted a sweet, innocent, girl-next-door picture of you that you rather enjoyed. The plaid skirt went nicely with the cardigan you wore, which was perfect for the autumn chill. You promised your parents you'd be home by lunchtime, and surprisingly enough, your father let you leave without assistance. That was probably his first mistake, unbeknownst to you.

As you stepped out of the house, the October breeze hit you like an avalanche, a shiver running down your spine instantly. The shiver was also impacted by the eye contact you made once more with the man across the street, however. Your hands immediately flew to your skirt, tugging it down as much as you could to avoid judgement, earning a chuckle from the man. Although he was rather far away, you still heard his laugh and it sent an unfamiliar warmth to your core. You shuddered at your own avidity. You both paused for a moment, neither of you wanting to be the first to break the gaze, until he turned on his heel and gave you one more glance before entering his own home. Relief relaxed your shoulders, and you let the huff of air you must have been holding in slip from your lips. You clutched your bag as your stomach began to ache with hunger. Maybe it would be nice to have a picnic date with yourself in the forest.

The walk to the grocery shop, which perched on a corner flooded with crates of flowers and fruits, was thankfully rather short. You picked up a punnet of berries and some cookies, receiving both lustful and judgemental looks from most of the other customers. The cashier, who just so happened to be a suited, well kept man, whom was insanely buff and broad, that owned the shop itself, simply watched you in curiosity. You smiled warmly at him and thanked him as you left, the bell on the top of the door frame dinging sharply as you stepped out. Peckish, you bit into a perfectly crimson strawberry as you made your way to the woods your father had driven past on your way to the house. The juice of the berry stained your lips as you chewed and hummed contently. It was delicious.

The leaves under your feet crunched faintly, crisp and warm toned. The forest was riddled with overgrown greenery which had now grown limp and dry, but it was beautiful all the same. Ivy creeped up the trees, embracing them tightly. The grass was somehow short amidst the dying leaves and bushes. The trees cast a shadow over the entire forest. The place had a simple yet eerie beauty to it. Perhaps you could visit here more often. You found a tree, twisted and distorted, its trunk reaching out the the ground among the thorns and nettles. You settled upon the trunk, leaning against the upward twist of it. It was a perfect place to sit and relax. This place only got better.

You'd just dug into your berry mix as you heard a deep grunt sound before you. Your gaze snapped up, meeting the intense eyes of the man across the street. Your body immediately tensed under his watch. "We must stop meeting like this," he chuckled, the same sound from earlier reverberating through his chest, which was, much like the shop keeper's, exceptionally broad and muscular, his sweater fitted just enough to outline the muscles perfectly. You smiled softly, still nervous as his eyes burned into you. He held his hand out to you, offering it as a greeting. You shook it lightly, your small hand enclosing around his in a way that made his eyes darken. You didn't notice, though. You were too busy trying not to melt under his gaze. The man was incredibly attractive - it wasn't your fault that he flustered you so much. His dark hair was gelled lightly, stray and short curls framing his face. His eyes were a vibrant and deep blue, somehow radiating an alluring darkness despite their brightness in colour. He towered over you, and you were sure he would even if you weren't sat down. His shoulders were wide and his arms were large and rugged. His jaw was defined and sharp, brushed with faint stubble which was strangely attractive. Whilst it made him look older, it made him all the more handsome. His lips were plump and pink, in a constant state of soft smiling toward you. Between his brows was a crease, similar to the kind that frustration or anger would bring. But he wasn't angry or frustrated - at least you didn't think he was. Despite the time you felt you had spent scanning the man's features, seconds had not yet even passed. He seemed to freeze time. "I'm James," he breathed, "but my friends call me Bucky," and a smirk tugged at his lips.

"How does James turn into Bucky?" You giggled, playful confusion washing over your features. He hummed a laugh, leaning nearer to you. "When you become a friend." He purred. Your smile dropped, now replaced with a blank and flustered stare, heat rising in your cheeks. Bucky could've sworn his pants got tighter as he watched the blush erupt in the apples of your cheeks. You shook your head softly, the smile returning to your lips as you composed yourself and steadied your breathing, eyes bearing into his. "I mean where did the name come from." You simpered. "My last name's Buchanan," he explained, his eyes flickering between each of yours. The moment was oddly intense, sending warm shivers through you. Your stomach broke out in frenzied butterflies. "Oh," you breathed, and with that, a content silence settled upon the both of you. After a few seconds, Bucky broke the silence. "I was just about to go on a stroll," He said smoothly, his eyes shining with mischief. "Care to join me?" And his hand brushed against yours once more.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Comfortable silence had lingered for long enough, and Bucky wanted to hear your voice again. The leaves crunched beneath your feet as you walked, but Bucky's deep voice broke through the haze that nature's ambience has lured you into. "So, where'd you move from?" He asked, turning to peer at you as you did the same. "Leesville," you muttered, nostalgia washing over you. You'd never had the most exciting social life, but Leesville had still been your childhood home. The look of gloom that clouded your expression made Bucky's hand move on it's own. He reached towards your face, hand cupping your jaw as his thumb swiped over your lips. "Strawberry juice," he mumbled softly in response to your look of surprise. Once again, the blush he had reacted so extremely to before sprung back to life, an almost inaudible groan sounding from his throat instinctively. You blinked at him, the same blank expression settling on your face, your lips parting as you exhaled shakily. You couldn't wrap your head around how easily this man was effecting you, this stranger, this new friend.

The two of you spoke and walked until the sky began to darken, when the realisation that lunchtime had long passed hit you. A small gasp left your lips, as you spun to face Bucky. His eyebrow quirked in confusion, to which you yelped, "I was supposed to be back home for lunch!" You absentmindedly grasped his hand and began to rush back the way you came, before his hand tightened around yours, the realisation of your action falling over you. You quickly dropped your hand and continued speed walking until you passed the tree you had sat at. Huffing, and clutching your chest in exhaustion, you heard Bucky catch up with you, his strides long and steady. "I'll walk you home. Besides, you're a big girl, I'm sure your parents won't mind." He insisted. You just stared at him as he began to walk ahead of you, glancing back at you just how he had that morning, until your senses came back to you and the panic clouding your mind subsided. He was right. You were old enough to get home a whatever time you wanted - except, it was more so to do with your safety than your age.

Rounding the corner and approaching the both of your houses, Bucky cleared his throat. You looked at him expectantly, and your mouth hung slack when you processed what he had to say. "Would you like to have coffee with me tomorrow?" He'd asked. This man, this god-carved hunk, the most attractive man you'd admittedly ever seen, was asking you, a girl he'd only just met, a girl at least 10 years younger than him, out to coffee. You'd assumed he only walked with you out of politeness, because he'd bumped into you and introduced himself. You'd assumed he was only being courteous because you had just moved in. But no, he had walked with you because he, James Buchanan, wanted to walk with you. He, burly Bucky, wanted to spend time with you. It was his eyes, exploring yours in expectance, that bought you back from the depths of your thoughts. You gulped, unable to verbally accept his offer, and nodded. You were eager, don't be mistaken, but you'd never had any friends. You knew you were attractive, but to be thrown from your typical lonely state into a state of possible romance shook you. Bucky, leaving you just as he had greeted you, chuckled in response and shook his head at your obvious nervousness. "How does 11 work for you?" He asked, not even expecting a verbal answer anymore. You only nodded again, before quickly heading up your porch steps and into your strangely quiet home, leaving Bucky behind you, smirking, eyes dark and hooded.

Author's Note: Okay, I'm quite nervous to publish this... this is my first time allowing my writing to include outward sexuality. I'm hoping it isn't too cringey? This is also my first series! So I'm hoping it turns our nicely. Enjoy!!

Taglist: (comment to be added.) @chemtrails-club

[sarahowritesostucky]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, non-con, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", mating, breeding, hate to strong affection, yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the alpha who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

Masterlist

Daddy's Home (Series teaser)

Episode 1: A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat: Just like Her Mommy

Episode 2: Taking Back What's His

Episode 3: The Lap of Luxury

Episode 4: Motherhood Suits You

Episode 5: Should've Done this Years Ago

Epilogue: A Storybook Romance Once Again

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" shlyukha = "slut" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" milashka = "cutie patootie" malen'kiy = "little one"  malyshka = "little girl" pchelka = "little bee"

@cjand10, @violetwinterwidow01, @ppbhquinn, @myfavbuckyfics, @liannafae, @sadsackssss, @timidquindim, @dakotali, @rayofdawnworld, @wintrsoldrluvr, @lindasweetie

[flordeamatista]

Mob AU! Bucky sweeps into your life like a whirlwind. And for a small town girl like you, this tornado of a romance is nothing short of awe inspiring. Money, cars—anything you want is yours, you have only but to name it. And so of course when Bucky asks if you’ll be his, his girl, and one day his wife, you say yes, and move right in.

😈

Lover of Passion

pairing: soft dark!Mob!Bucky Barnes x dark!Reader

concept: Bucky lusts after you, and you crave the chance to feel more of your own desire.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: soft dark reader and soft dark bucky, manipulation, twisted love, desire, lust, greed, main character death, soft poetic smut- nickname:trandafirul meu (my rose)

a/n: This is for @boxofbonesfic The Monkey's Paw 7k challenge! Congratulations, love. You are such a beautiful loving light on this Tumblr world.

lovely betas: Thank you for making sure this makes sense @s-tarksintern and @purpleshallot

Masterlist

A soft summer breeze softly ruffles the petals as the sky casts a shimmering ray on the flower. The red rose stretches its neck and slowly opens its eyes, and the calm sunlight just smiles at it. A compassionate gesture fills the garden with the aroma of flowers. 

The grey sky is visible from high above the ground. 

In the distance, the sun is rising, the colors are melting, and the clouds are hurriedly clearing to make way for the glowing disc.

You see how the rose spins and how each petal represents the layers of power of living in his world as his queen. Out of all the women in the world, he picks you. In his chaotic garden of danger, you are his rose.

Standing in your garden's wet grass, you are barefoot. You wish to cherish the moment. Closing your eyes you try to hear the dawn chorus of birds. Your ears are filled with sweetness. 

Your love for him makes you want to weave his veins with yours.

He has given you this sense of freedom and safety. Your Bucky.

You feel a burning desire for him since you first met him. That red desire, it embodies how much power he holds over you. It is the power of a man, a mafia god. 

Bucky is the man for you. He is the one who shaped you into the person you are now. The one who transformed you from a naive small-town girl to the virtuous possessor of everything, that you are today. 

To have your body free for his use and care for his feelings is all you need to do. At night, the intimacy of the shared room is accompanied by moans. Each and every moan that he makes in that room as he touches every inch of your body. 

It is in my heart that you are mine, but who is yours?

Bucky is a ruthless man in the world he lives in. 

At first, you appeared to be a crimson rose in that park's garden, ready to be worn down by his love. Bucky destroys, and he has no concept of love. Until you appeared as though you were a beam of sunshine. He saw how the red dress wrapped around all of your curves like a scarlet bow. His gaze was drawn to you as a frail, innocent girl, oblivious to the world around her.

His first day with you is still fresh on his mind. It was that night that he claimed every part of your body for himself.

In the azure night, his dark blue eyes were fixed on the road ahead, rushing through the town's charcoal night streets. 

Every decision he made was calculated, from the moment he met you to the moment you fell into his arms. You thought you had made a decision when in fact the decision was already made for you. He had to be loved. A decision he had made as desired. 

The exquisite touch will ruin you. The romantic innocence from which you once drank has been robbed. The dark blush of his lust led you to sin.  He loves you and desires to be with you.

There is passion and journey and the buried flesh of the unconscious, and the only victim is you.

He meticulously created this red love by hand. He created you in his love, with your sweet spirit and your beautiful smile. Your lips glimmer with lust, your voice soothes, and your touch subdue. 

It was difficult to resist the shiver of joy at his devouring gaze when you cast a couple of glances his way. His jaw clenched and his eyes were fixed in your direction.

A pair of hands that are both thick, callous, and tender at the same time. The trail that’s left behind was engulfed in flames. Leaving you completely burnt for him. As his fingertips caressed the inside of your thigh, he took and relished its tenderness.

That night was the first time Bucky made you his. And that night you learned a much familiar truth. One that brings you simmering comfort now.

The flower growing over your heart reaches out to him when you have nothing else on your mind but for him.

Each room of the mansion is covered in the jam color of roses. Every morning, he'll leave you a note telling you what to do. Live this lucid life thinking you had all the freedom in the world, but all freedom belongs to him. It was only to him that you gave. He came and took. You crave for something else than becoming a mob boss's wife.

“Take your clothes off for me, trandafirul meu.” 

As you go back, your devious smirk comes on your face, your lustrous eyes never leaving him as you comply with his instructions. You're used to being able to please Bucky. 

His expression is hungry and voracious as if he is going to swallow you. Embraced by something that is far greater than simple seductive passion.

A quiet, pleased moan escapes his lips as he reaches for his enormous bulge, tugging himself out of the dark black slacks seams. When he sees you undress, he strokes his cock slowly and appreciatively, sliding his bottom lip between his teeth.

Bucky isn't surprised when you take your time. Hands stroking slowly and seductively across your flesh. 

“How do you want me, tonight?”

You whisper a hot groan into his ear as you press him onto the bed, your lips seductively caressing his earlobe for a brief second before drawing back. You brush your lips over his before putting a lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth, your gaze fixated on his as the words he allows send shivers down your spine.

It nearly seems like love the way you glide your fingertips down his skin. When you offer yourself to him, your arms wrap around him like chains, clinging to his flesh like lovers do. How you trace lazy patterns on his flesh, how you unintentionally gravitate towards him.

And you, don't waste any time. 

You end the night with his cock in your pussy and the fragrance of you on him. And he sees bricks of blood - red hues in the atmosphere, as well as bouquets in the air. He sees love transferring him to a changing area.

He has so many unspoken wishes. When he touches you, the roots of your flower grow deeper into your heart; when you kiss him, his eyelids close.

As you caress his skin in such a gentle way, there seems to almost be an element of love in it for him. Almost.

Observing the roses from the vantage point of the raindrops, it looks as if the petals are being caressed. The roses cling to love; everyone yearns for it. You clung onto love. 

When you first fell in love, love had an entirely different meaning, but now power is all you want. Your true love.

You lay your forehead on his and breathe in his power as if it were more vital than oxygen. You give him a kiss. Partly because you can't waste an opportunity. Partly because you can't stop yourself, and partly because you believe Bucky deserves more kisses in his life. 

This red dress brought you a world, and Bucky was a dread soul when you both first met. 

You had planned the entire encounter in order to take over his life. He rots in your garden's spirit, becoming the fuel that allows the roses to thrive.

The petals fall from your hand into the soil. You step on a crimson splash, and the brown dirt eats it up. 

You remember when his face was a stoned lust red, his blue eyes were filled with drops of his favorite color, and his mouth was wet and open. It was the first time you fell in love with his greed. Not him.

Power's greed.

He created this universe with you, and you ruin him for the sake of your own lust. 

Gently, without compromising your position, you make him kneel before you. It never occurred to the gardeners that they needed a mob body in the garden to bring beauty to the roses.

I admire my world and the garden admires your love.

[gaysindistress]

As Good a Reason - seven

pairing: ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️ x reader

summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?

warnings: ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️, cursing, blood, more character deaths, smutty moments but not full spice

word count: 2.6k

Tag list @kandis-mom @casa-boiardi @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @cakesandtom @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @vonalyn @emerald-writes

a/n: AHHHH HERE'S THE FINAL PART OF AS GOOD A REASON!!!! I know I went MIA for a minute but I'm back. I started a new job and moved states so it's been an absolutely crazy week for me. Going forward, I'm going to be slower with updating and fics will probably only come out once a week. I've been focusing on editing Divine Violence and catching up on my reading stack (my poor kindle is overloaded) but I promise I won't forget about all of you on tumblr <3 <3 <3

six | series masterlist

Victoria is silent during the drive, keeping her stare ahead and out the front window without so much as a single glance to her sister or brother. Y/N keeps shooting glances at Niklaus for explanation but he offers nothing. 

“Vic,” she says softly, touching her sister’s shoulder and she flinches at the touch, “Vic what’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer at first but the second time that her sister asks, she briefly looks back at her and whispers something. 

“What did you say?”

Clearing her throat, she says the unthinkable, “Brock made me do it.”

“What did he make you do?” Niklaus says as he leans towards the front seat. 

“I didn’t have a choice. He….he said if I loved him, I would do it.”

Steve glances over in concern from the driver’s seat, “What is she going on about?”

“I know just as much as you,” Y/N scoffs before turning to her sister, “Vic what did he make you do?” “He said that if I was a good daughter, I would do it,” she mumbles to herself as she pulls something from under her loose sweatshirt. Steve looks over at her again and slams on the breaks in efforts to stop her from pulling out the weapon. The sudden stop sends everyone flying forward as well the knife Victoria had started to pull out. Steve snatches it up before she can with one hand and has a gun pointed at with the other. The car behind them, the one that Sam and James are in, slams to a halt as well as the two men clamor out. 

“What the fuck?” James hisses when he approaches the driver’s side. He narrows his eyes at everyone inside the car and lets out a disappointed sigh when he sees the knife and a shaking Victoria. 

“I expected more of you, Victoria Marie,” he scolds her as if she is a child and nods to Sam and Steve. Sam rips the backseat door open and pulls the other two triplets out as Steve hands him the knife. 

“What are you doing?” Niklaus sneers at Sam and James but neither of them answer. Y/N tries her hand at getting an answer but again gets nothing aside from a stern look from James. Steve exits the vehicle next as the two are dragged back to the second car. He grabs hold of Y/N who fights him tooth and nail to get out of his hold but it’s useless. 

As they’re shoved into the car, they hear a gunshot. Both gasp and let out cries of anger, rage, pain, sadness, anything at all that they’ve felt in the last six years. James joins them in the car, cleaning the barrel of Steve’s gun off on his pant leg. He says nothing as Sam drives off. 

The car where Victoria should be in is starting to smoke as flames try to lick up the sides. Y/N looks at him in horror but no reaction. 

Two Rumlows gone in the span of two hours. 

Who is next?

Five days pass before Y/N leaves her room. 

She guarded the door with any piece of furniture she could find and refused to open it unless absolutely necessary. Niklaus, of course, had been the only expectation however he too rarely left his room. 

That was until Steve pounded on their doors, demanding that they be downstairs in 15 minutes for a reunion dinner. Y/N scoffs at the idea of having a reunion dinner when all her and her brother want to do is grieve. 

Another pound on the door brings her attention back and she takes a sharp breath in before opening it. A black box sits on the ground in front of the door and it takes everything in her to not stomp on the fragile lid. She picks it up and tosses it onto her bed, staring at it as she sits on the floor. It’s similar to the box she got that first night days ago. 

Weeks ago. 

Months ago?

Honestly at this point, Y/N couldn’t remember how long it had been since she was dragged back to this hell hole of a city and had her life turned upside down. All she knows is that the grip that James had on her is growing tighter everyday. It’s becoming suffocating, squeezing out any breath that she tries to take and that box on her bed is a physical reminder of the hand that’s always wrapped around her throat. 

She climbs to her feet and hesitantly takes a seat next to the box, contemplating whether or not she should let the hand control her even more. A thought crosses her mind, one that chills her to the bone. 

What would James do to Klaus?

Her fingers quickly flick open the box and the lid slides back to reveal a gold necklace sitting on black tissue paper. She lets out a deep sigh at the theatrics that James puts into everything that he does. Picking up the necklace, Y/N scoffs as she looks it over. Of course, he would ask…command her to wear a necklace with his name on it. 

However as her fingers pick it up, they catch on the paper to show a bundle of black gleaming fabric. She pulls the paper back even more and takes out the dress he’s also silently demanding that she wears. It’s a mid length square neck dress that will no doubt show off everything she wants to hide from men like James. 

Sneering at both disgusting gifts, she throws them back into the box and shoves it off her bed. It clatters to the floor as she stares at it in anger, a deep feral anger that needs to be released. This anger accepts only one payment though and that is blood. More specifically that of the White Wolf’s. 

Only the sounds of clanking silverware and the occasional conversation between James and his men. Niklaus and Y/N stayed silent from the moment they saw each other in the hall. He glared at the dress and necklace she wore and she wanted desperately to tell him it was all a facade but she couldn’t without tipping off the men around them. She could see the palpable anger in his eyes, the hurt that flashed when he read the name that claimed her throat. She tried to convey with her eyes that it would all end tonight but he looked away too quickly and went back to eating. 

The dining room is much like the rest of the house, black and devoid of any emotion. She wants to make a remark about it mirroring the inside of the owner’s heart but one quick glance to the head of the table keeps it locked behind her painted lips. 

James, ever the regal mafia leader, is leaning back in his chair as he watches over his subjects. Surprisingly he’s only wearing a half buttoned black short sleeve and black slacks. Y/N pretends to trail her eyes over the tanned skin that is on display and when she lands on his face, there is a smirk welcoming her heated gaze. He takes a swallow of his favored amber liquid without breaking eye contact with her. A shiver of disgust wants to wash over her body but she suppresses it as Sam speaks. He drones on about whatever useless business he and Steve dealt with today, no doubt so insignificant that if Klaus or Y/N tried to use it against them, it would do nothing. She knew this routine well; dangle pieces of information before their enemies in efforts to get them to strike. Brock had done it time and time again to the point that the remaining Triplets knew it well. Well enough to not take the bait. 

Dinner slowly comes to an end as servants take away the empty places, leaving all of the guests to glare at each other. Y/N’s fingers tap lightly on the steak knife that remains, drawing attention to it and Steve motions for it to be taken away. James chuckles under his breath as he watches the interaction but says nothing. Y/N smirks on the inside but puts on a face of frustration. 

Both her and the White Wolf knew that if she was going to try something, she wouldn’t have been so obvious as to grab a steak knife. No, James knows that it’s a distraction but he wants to watch her plan unfold before stopping her. 

His sharp eyes meet hers again and they pin her to her seat. She sees his mouth move but she can’t hear the words that come out. She guesses that he dismissed everyone from the way that everyone clears out of the room , leaving them alone. Niklaus shoots her a glance before Sam pushes him out and she gives her brother a small nod. 

I’ll be okay.

Niklaus doesn’t fight Sam because he knows that she will be but it does little to calm the rising fear. He nods back. 

Be careful. 

She smiles at him, covering her sinister plan with sibling love. 

Once the door is closed and they are finally alone, Y/N settles her gaze back on James who had been watching the interaction. He sits his glass on the arm of his chair as he looks her over. A twinkle of something positively feral flashes in his eye when he takes in the necklace and dress she is wearing. 

“I figured it better to comply,” she offers as she takes a sip of her wine. 

“Comply?” he questions, “You make it sound like I’m a tyrant.”

“You’re far worse.”

James lets out a deep laugh that’s more animal like than human, “If I were then your brother’s head would’ve been served for dinner.”

Y/N takes another slow sip of her wine to hide her seething anger at the suggestion. 

“And then I would’ve taken you in front of the others.”

She turns to narrow her eyes at him, “What if I said no?”

“You won’t have.”

“How can you be so sure?” The glass of his cup clinks on the table as he sits it on the table before him, “Look at what you’re wearing. I’d say that is a pretty good indication that you wouldn’t say that to me.”

She rolls her eyes at him and sits her own glass on the table. Taking a deep breath, she prepares herself for her next move. Before James can say another vile thing, she quickly stands and walks to the head of the table. Perching herself on the table just beside him, Y/N gently pushes at the arm of James’ chair. Taking the hint, he moves back an inch and takes her by the hips to pull her in front of him. She had only been this close to him a handful of times but every time it’s just as terrifying as the last. His cold attitude extends to the air that circles him and now her. His scent of leather, guns, and blood engulf her and caress the sides of her face as he watches her every move. 

In another life, she knew that she would’ve fallen for him. She could see the charm and confidence that he would use on her to get her into bed. She could see the way that he would shower her with gifts to the point where she would have to beg him to stop. She could see how he would laugh when he kissed up her neck, claiming that she would never have enough and would never stop giving her the world. 

However now with the predatory look in his eye, she’s not sure that he would ever be the James that she pictured in her head. This man, the White Wolf, is the image of pure evil down to the way that he lazily smiles up at her, a dark look swimming in his equally darkening eyes. 

“Don’t pull anything stupid, little snake,” he murmurs to her as he drinks in the way his name lays on her breasts. 

“Who said I was going to do anything?” she murmurs back as she leans down into his space.

“I know that look.” 

She bats her lashes at him, fiending innocence and he laughs again, that deep rumble in his chest squeezing the air from her lungs. His right hand makes a slow climb up her arm as she leans down and finds its place on her throat, just above where his name sits on its golden chain. His thumb rubs her jaw, tipping her face down by her chin so he can look at her better. His tongue swipes his bottom lip as he appreciates the red painted on hers. 

“We both know you’re not some stupid innocent doll,” he whispers to her, “You’re my little snake, clever and deadly.”

“Are you my White Wolf then?”

James smirks at her question and draws her closer, “That depends.”

“On?”

“If you plan to keep trying to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she whispers against his lips before kissing him. His soft lips move against hers in a slow but domineering way, control every slide and move they make. The hand around her neck slips into her loose hair while his other hand pulls her by the hips onto his lap and slips up on her lower back. Under her, she can feel the hardness forming in his pants and she stifled a moan at the feeling of him moving against her. One of her hands tangles into her hair, pulling at it so his head falls back and she descends upon his neck. 

Y/N leaves wet kisses on his jaw and down his neck as they move against each other, gasps and moans leaving both of them. In their desperation to devour each other, James didn’t notice that her other hand was nowhere to be felt on his body nor did he see the flash of silver in the fire light. 

“Fuck,” he chokes out when that flash of silver hides a place in between his sixth and seventh rib. Y/N quickly pulls the small dinner knife out and plunges back into the same area. The shock of her attack and the pain that is growing hot in his side stop him from pushing her off or defending himself in other ways. 

She pulls away, still sitting on top of him with the bloody knife in her hand and gives him a small smile. He breathlessly chuckles at the sight, “Wouldn’t dream of it?”

“It’s not a dream anymore,” she offers with a small shrug. 

James drops his hands from her body as she slides off and lets her knife on the table just out of his reach. The attack on his spleen will cause him to bleed out slowly enough that he will feel every moment of it but fast enough that there would be nothing anyone could do to help him. They both know it and he wants to laugh again at the situation but the pain prevents him from doing so. 

“Why?” he asks, almost too quiet for her to hear but she does. She pauses at the door to answer him. 

“Spite.”