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#mafia bucky barnes x fem!reader
queers-gambit · 1 month
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Adore Her, Dior Her
prompt: ( requested ) what good is having all that money if he can't spend it on the woman he loves?
pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
word count: 4.3k+
warnings: author foams at the mouth for Mafia AUs, overwhelming fluff, cursing, not edited.
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"That's the one. That's one we should get!"
"You've said that about the past three dresses, Buck!" You groaned, smoothing your hands over the skirt. "We need to narrow this down, okay? The wedding's in a month!"
"Why did we even agree to go?"
You glared, "'Cause we love my brother and we're supporting him."
"But she's just so - "
"Jen. Her name's Jen."
Bucky nodded, leaning back on the cushioned chair, "Well, Jen's just wrong for him. Literally the definition of toxic."
"Does it count if they're toxic together? To each other?" You sighed, standing on the pedestal and turning to look in the three mirrors beside the dressing room.
"Of course it does," he stood, buttoning his suit jacket out of habit. He approached you, head cocking as he looked your body up and down to get the full view of the gown you tried on. "You're really okay letting him marry her? Turn this way a bit, baby, lemme see the front."
You scoffed, but took his offered hand and twisted on the small platform towards him, "You were there at Christmas, he doesn't listen to reason. So, if Daniel's convinced Jen's for him, as his sister, my only job is be supportive."
"They literally abuse each other," he pointed out.
"Well, he's not changing his mind. Okay? It's been three years, he won't budge, whenever someone brings up them breaking up, he goes into hiding - so, I don't know what else I can do," your hands slapped your thighs when you shrugged, "except just be there for him. Now, focus, please, help me narrow a dress down."
He shook his head as you turned to face the mirrors again, "Actually, you know what? I don't think anything in this store is for us."
The attendant perked up and scurried over, rushing, "Oh, well, we have a much larger selection in the back, Mr. Barnes - "
"That won't be necessary, Barbra, thank you, though," he nodded. "Doll," his hand planted on your waist, head over your shoulder as you still looked yourself over in the mirrors, "go get changed, I know where we need to go."
"Bucky, no, there's plenty of options here," you argued, twisting on the wee little pedestal to face him again. "We don't need to drop a stack on a dress - "
"You let me worry about the price tag," he smirked, leaning in to peck your cheek. "Just go change, pretty girl, c'mon. Step-to!"
You offered Barbra, the attendant, an apologetic smile as you shuffled back into the changing room; quickly stripping from the dress. When you exited in your street clothes, Bucky was tipping the aged woman for her effort in gathering your options, but the moment he saw you, his hand was extending to hold yours tightly.
"What was wrong with that store?" You asked when you stepped onto the noisy and busy street to approach the sleek, tinted car Bucky drove for day-to-day errands.
"We're not shopping at David's fucking Bridal."
"You literally drove us here," you laughed.
"Yeah, and then I had a much better idea," he smirked at you, unlocking the car and opening your passenger door. "C'mon, princess, just gotta trust me."
"Last time you said that - "
"That wasn't my fault," he groaned, cheeks flaring red in embarrassment. When you opened your mouth to retort, he rushed, "Aht, nope, don't say shit. C'mon, I'm taking you somewhere special so get that pretty ass in the car."
He grinned when you laughed and did as bid, feet safely inside when he closed the door after you were settled. Bucky easily jogged around the back of his car, New York busy this time of year as traffic flew past on the street and forced Buck slow. He dropped into the driver's seat, sniffling slightly.
"Reminds me," Bucky smirked as he pulled onto the street, "how would you feel about us going to Aspen this winter?"
You sighed, "Why?"
"You wanna stay in New York for Christmas?"
"Well, yeah! It's so magical."
"Okay, so, we can go over New Years?"
You sighed, "You know, we don't have to go anywhere..."
"Sweetheart," he cleared his throat, "I actually have some business in Aspen, this will just help determine when I schedule the meetings for."
"Oh," you nodded slowly.
He sighed, "I know my job isn't orthodox, but business is business, right, sugar?”
"No, yeah, yeah, I get it. It sounds kinda nice, maybe we can go skiing."
"You know how to ski?"
"No, but I'm sure someone in Aspen could help teach me."
Bucky grinned. The drive was full of easy conversation, neither you nor Bucky dwelling on his business dealings, always feeling as if it was taboo given his station in the Mafia. So when he pulled up in front of a designer store, you gawked. "Now, if we can't find something here - "
"Um, absolutely not," you laughed. "Bucky, I can't even afford to walk into a place like that!"
"Good thing I'm paying," he smirked. He assisted you out of the car, tossing his keys to one of his security guards who had been following in a separate, tinted vehicle. When you both entered the dimly lit store, you were blown away by the gorgeous minimalist design; warm lighting, open floor space, and racks of different clothing options.
"Ah, Mr. Barnes! Hello, hello, hello!" A new attendant greeted with more enthusiasm than you would've greeted any of your clients, approaching you two. She shook your boyfriend's hand vigorously, "To what do we owe this pleasure?"
Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, "Looking for a dress to wear to a wedding."
She offered you a forced smile, telling your boyfriend swiftly with her teeth on full display, "You came to the right spot!"
"See?" Bucky smirked at you. "All right, Valeria, what's first?"
Valeria waved you both onward to a private changing room, offering complimentary sparkling waters, coffees, teas - even offering to go retrieve anything you two would want from the Starbucks down the block. Valeria took your measurements and dress size, making idle chit-chat with Bucky and making it obvious he was a regular in the store, then scurrying off to collect an armful of options.
"This is - wow," you nodded in impression, petting the material of the display dresses hung along the wall.
"Like it?"
"It's growing on me," you eased with a small shrug, hearing Bucky chuckle and for his phone to chime. You perused the place as he became glued to the little device, sat in front of the dressing rooms.
Valeria returned with another attendant carrying coffees. "Right this way, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria directed you into a changing room, missing the giddy look you sent Bucky over your shoulder at being called his wife. "All right, so," she sighed, hanging up the dresses she selected, "I think these are modest enough for a wedding, but still glamorous to turn a few heads."
You hummed, "They're kinda short, don't know if that's the energy I want to be giving off at my brother's wedding."
"They'll fit differently once on but we can always accommodate," she assured, pulling one from the hanger. "Here we go," she assisted you, zipping you in and looking you over. "Oh, it's just darling on you! Look at that, not a single hair outta place, right?"
You giggled lightly, "It's certainly pretty."
"Shall we show Mr. Barnes?"
You nodded, following her out to reveal Bucky sitting on a plush loveseat, sipping his coffee. His eyes widened when he saw you, nodding, "Oh, yeah. This is what I'm talking about."
"Hush, we're only buying one."
His eyes rolled, "I'll buy the whole damn store if I want."
"You don't own it already? Hm," you teased, perking your brows.
"Keep sayin' shit, I'll cut a check right now - "
"Bucky," you tisked, moving to the runway mirrors. "It's a little tight, isn't it?"
"It's snug," Valeria agreed. "Is there a color scheme for the wedding?"
"Um," you paused, "I'm not sure - I just know it's in winter, like, in a month."
"Maybe a pretty powder blue?" She looked to Bucky, who nodded. "Or how about a pale green? Like an olive tone?"
"She looks gorgeous in anything," Bucky smirked from behind you, taking another pull of his coffee.
"What about that brown number?" You asked, ignoring the way his compliments made you feel like the only girl he's ever seen in the world.
"You have a very good eye, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria nodded. She asked her coworker to go find your size, taking you back into the dressing room. You narrowed down the options without changing again, not wanting anything black or dark since it was a wedding and not a funeral. Though, you knew Bucky would disagree.
You showed your boyfriend a pretty little green dress, but he shook his head. "I thought the black was nice," he told you.
"I'm not wearing black to a wedding," you laughed lightly. "It screams bad luck to me, don't you think?"
"Think it's more of a statement, sayin' the entire event is a sham and they shouldn't be doing this," Bucky snickered, the other attendant, Laura, returning with a pretty brown dress. "That satin?" He asked, rubbing the material when it was presented to you both.
"It's very fashionable now," Laura nodded, "and it's not too dark."
"Since when is it a rule to not wear dark colors to a wedding? I miss the memo?" Buck leaned back to his seat.
All three women offered him a small look, you chuckling under your breath before Valeria was leading you back into the changing room. "If I may, Mrs?" She spoke softly, "I've known Mr. Barnes for a number of years but he's never brought anyone into the store. Then, one day, he tells me he needs a new suit because the 'girl of his dreams' had agreed to a date, and every time since then?" She smiled softly at you, "He's sang your praises. I'm very honored you're trusting me with helping you today."
"Oh," you blinked in shock, giggling nervously, "well, thank you very much, Valeria, now I know why his suits are always top of the line." She waved you off, making you add, "And for the record, I'm not Mrs. Barnes, guess that'd be his mother, wouldn't it?"
"Oh," her eyes widened, gasping softly, "oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I just - he talks so highly about you - "
"No, it's okay, it's okay," you rushed, patting her arm. "I actually kind of like it..."
She hummed, zipping you into another dress, "You know, he's the reason my girl and I are together."
"Really? How'd that happen?"
Valeria chuckled, "He's very bold, your man. We were getting coffee one day, discussing his wardrobe for a business trip he had in Hong Kong, when my lady walked in. I went all silly and stupid, and Mr. Barnes just," she shook her head with a fond smile, "brazenly asked her out for me, in front of the whole shop."
"Oh, Jesus, yeah - sounds like him."
"Well, luckily, it worked, else I don't think he would've come back for my assistance. I was so embarrassed, you have no idea, but my lady - Charlie - thought it was charming and cute. Mr. Barnes hasn't let me live it down since. Says he demands an invite to the wedding." She met your eyes through the mirror, offering, "And I'd be really happy to give him a plus one, hmm?"
"You're so sweet," you whispered, turning to survey the dress. You spent the better part of three hours there, trying on dress after dress, nitpicking almost everything as you just weren't sure what to wear. Bucky wasn't much help, he just approved everything.
So, it was up to Valeria and Laura to help you; bringing out iPads and design books, trying to piece something together that best fit your comfort and the vibe of the wedding. You didn't want to look like a walking money bag since your family wasn't by any means wealthy, thinking it would be a slap to their faces since your boyfriend could spend his money without ever thinking about it. You didn't want to give your family any reason to talk behind your back.
"I like the brown satin," Laura offered softly, looking you over in the mirror. "But the blue is just wow, it really looks like it was made for you, doesn't it?"
"Yes, but I think the green compliments her eyes more," Valeria cocked her head in thought. "Are you wearing your hair up or down?"
"Up," you answered, trying to mimic the look by pulling your locks off your shoulders, "with thin jewelry, I think."
"Diamonds?"
"Pearls, if I can find a dress that looks nice with it," you smiled, seeing Bucky's reflection in the mirror watching you with a soft smile on his face; head titled in thought before his phone chimed again and warranted his attention. "Maybe we could try the pink dress?" You looked to the two women for an opinion.
"No," Valeria shook her head, "it washes you out. And pink in winter? Oh, sweetie, I'd lose my job if I let you leave here with that. Guess that means you'll have to come back in the spring, right?"
You grinned in response as Laura chimed in, "The green's actually really nice, but the brown looks much better with your body type." Then she turned to Bucky, prompting, "Mr. Barnes? Final decision - which dress?"
Bucky paused, musing, "Lemme see them all again, get one last taste. It's between the green and brown numbers?"
"Or the blue," Valeria nodded. "C'mon, sweetie," she offered her hand to help you off the wee runway you were perched on in front of the magnificent mirrors.
"You look sensational in them all, doll, how the hell am I supposed to choose just one?" Bucky teased, his canines on display from the broad grin that stretched his lips.
"You'll find a way," you answered.
"Awh, telling me Mr. Big-Tough-Manly-Business-Man who makes impossible decisions everyday can't choose a simple piece of fashion?" Valeria tacked on.
"You guys can't pick either!" He laughed, "And you do a helluva lot more shopping than I do!"
Laura, Valeria, and you paused to exchange looks, you pointing at Bucky and relenting in a drawl, "Touché."
When you were escorted back into the dressing room, Laura waiting outside the door for your privacy with Valeria, Bucky sat back on the plush loveseat and extended his one arm over the back of the seating. He smirked to himself, shaking his head as if in disbelief - but he was. Bucky was in disbelief.
How did a rugged Mob boss find himself here? Watching his girl like a private fashion show?
His whole life, all he knew was turmoil, pain, drama, and fear. He knew he would inherit his father's well-built organization after he passed and knew what this life would entail; having no preconceived notions about a quiet life. He knew he would have to be tougher than tough, adaptable, intelligent, and confident in his role as the head of the 3-6 Brooklyn Mob. Knowing the idea of a family was farfetched, knowing he'd never know the simple pleasures in life, that he would constantly be on the move - in-able to form real, sentimental, emotional connections. He knew, in this life, he'd remain alone for everyone's best interest and safety, indulging in a series of flings and one-off relationships that couldn't haunt him.
Yet they did. These encounters reminded Bucky how alone, how stranded, how isolated, how different he was. Instead of satisfying an unquenchable thirst, these fleeting partners became heavy anchors to Bucky's reality and reminded him that there was no such thing as love - nor was there any room or logic.
And then... He met you. Bucky's lips silently spread in a grin as he remembered meeting you at a bakery; purchasing the last slice of coconut cream pie to your absolute chagrin. He thought you were gorgeous, something ethereal and unobtainable; authentic, raw, and unfiltered - things his one night stands could never measure up to. So, he offered you the slice of pie if it meant giving him your number as currency.
After that, it was impossible for Bucky to consider ever being alone again because you were the sun; center of the universe that drew everyone into your orbit. He was smitten, content, excited to date you, turned on by the fact you had no idea who he was - a rare occurrence in the city. You were pure as fresh snow; sweet, kind, affectionate, attentive, and borderline overly empathetic.
Bucky knew he was in love with you after only a few weeks when he had shown up at your apartment, dripping in blood. You didn't panic like he feared you would, just checked up and down the hallway before yanking him into your home. You cleaned him up, tending to wounds, offering a safe space for him to relax in; making mindless conversation to help distract him from the pain he endured.
And now? Now, Bucky was sat in Dior, giving his opinion on your wedding guest dress; wondering how he allowed himself to get to this point of being domestic. Bucky wasn't a man to give his opinion on dresses, what color nail polish you should use, to send fresh bouquets of flowers every other week. Yet here he was, sipping too-expensive coffee, deciding between brown, green, and blue dresses that he never would've batted an eye at.
However, that was just the domino effect you caused in his life. You were sweeter than apple pie, becoming Bucky's one tether to reality that saved him from losing himself in this dark, criminal mindset he adopted. You didn't know it, but you had transformed Bucky from a brooding asshole into a boyfriend; someone you were proud to claim and never hid from - never shied away from. He admired the way you came to terms with his job, knowing it was a hard pill to swallow and yet noting the way you just accepted him as he was.
Bucky realized in that moment that he adored this new aspect of life after thinking it was impossible to obtain. He adored sitting here, offering opinions on dresses, his security left outside instead of hovering over him like a brutal reminder he was seedy. He loved having you to come home to, he loved being part of your mundane world - a person who went to weddings, who drank Starbucks, who asked her boyfriend his opinion about how she looked in dresses. Who thought bouquets of flowers were romantic, who baked him homemade cakes for his birthday, who worked overtime in order to afford his Christmas or birthday presents, who walked to the takeout place instead of paying for delivery.
All that you are, Bucky adored deeply; falling in love with you each and every single day. All he wanted to do was protect you, share his life with you, even pick out outfits for weddings you would attend. He knew if any of the men in his organization knew the extent of his affection, they'd surely weaponize it against him... Or at the very least, tease him relentlessly. Yet he never cared, knowing you wanted to be loved out loud instead of hidden away in a storage closet; but did care if it meant his enemies could use you to get to him. It was a risk, an occupation hazard for loved ones to become targets, but that only made Bucky so much more protective of you.
Laura glanced at Bucky and saw the fond smile soften to let his teeth trap his bottom lip, smiling at the Mob boss looking soft, content, smitten being there. She knew most boyfriends would never put this much effort into helping their girlfriends in the fashion department, thinking he must've been truly in love to look so at-ease. Plus his enthusiasm through the entire ordeal assured her that Bucky was genuinely enjoying himself.
Once again, you slipped into the blue dress and showed Bucky. He hummed and snapped a photo, asking you to turn this way and that. Then you tried the green dress, him taking another photo, and finally, you changed into the brown satin dress, facing Bucky for his final verdict.
Bucky hummed in contemplation, swiping through the photos. "You know what?" He asked, looking at you with a grin. "You look delectable in everything, I can't decide - so, let's just get them all."
"Bucky, no - "
"We'll take all three, Valeria, please," Bucky interrupted you.
You waited until the attendants left you alone with a knowing look shot in your direction to ring up the desired purchases, hip cocking and hands to your hips. With an underlying exasperation, you questioned, "What the hell, Buck?"
He grinned and stood, again, buttoning his suit jacket, "C'mon, princess, this is fun, right? Being spoiled?." His arms wrapped around your waist, looking down at you as if you hung the very sun that sucked him into your orbit. "What's the point of all my money if I can't spend it on you? Huh?"
"You can save it for a rainy day?"
He shrugged, "Not necessary."
"Maybe pay to send some underprivileged kids to go to college?"
"Well, there's a thought," your boyfriend mused, "but I already do that through the Stark Foundation. I sponsor a few scholarships."
"Okay, well, buying all three still doesn't help me decide what to wear," you chuckled, you mimicked his action and wrapped your arms tightly around the base of his ribs. Due to his height, your head had to tip backwards to meet his eyes with a small smile.
You could look at this gorgeous man all day, everyday if God ever permitted such an act. Why wasn't dating a paid activity? You'd be the top earner with the way you were absolutely enthralled with all Bucky Barnes was. And what an honor it was to earn his mutual adoration.
"We'll figure it out at home. Gotta get you moving in the material to make an honest judgement," he offered softly. "But you look gorgeous in all of them, baby, seriously. Like, drop dead gorgeous that makes every girl brim with jealousy. Shit, doll, you're gonna run the risk of outshining the bride."
You sighed, "Look, Buck, I appreciate what you're doing, but three designer dresses? Where the hell am I ever gonna wear them? What kinda event calls for overpriced fashion statements?"
Buck eased with a soft expression, "Guess I'll just have to take you out so you can put them all to good use, huh?"
"That's not a solution!"
"Is to me," he let a hand drift to roughly palm the meat of your ass cheek over the brown satin; another symptom of him being whipped, his comfort over public displays of affection. "Seriously, doll, how the hell did I get so lucky?"
"Hmm?"
"Just look at you, my girl," he chuckled lightly, "radiant in anything you put on. It's almost unfair, makes me wonder what I did so right to have someone like you I can call my own. I can't wait to show you off in those dresses, just look so Goddamn tantalizing. I mean, damn, baby, I'm gonna have to fight off men with my gun and the jealous women with a stick."
"You do realize we're already dating, you don't have to lay it on so thick."
"And you do realize being with you makes me the luckiest bastard in the city, right? Least I can do is spoil you, I've already got everything else I've ever wanted."
Your heart swelled at his words, sighing gently as your chin rested on his chest to keep your head tilted. Softly, you admitted, "I don't think you're the lucky one, pretty sure the honor's mine. I couldn't ask for anything more in a man - in a partner. I'm so fucking in love with you, Bucky, it honestly doesn't make sense."
He nodded, asking, "Know what else doesn't make sense?"
"What's that?"
"You refusing those dresses, I mean, c'mon!" He laughed, you groaning and releasing your hold; making his tighten to prevent you from escaping. "Those dresses look phenomenal on you, you really gonna reject my gift? C'mon, you know the rules, doll, if you adore her, you Dior her." You were ready to retort, but Bucky smiled, "For the record, I think you should wear the blue dress to the wedding."
"Blue it is," you smiled, lifting onto your toes and hooking a hand around the back of his neck to meet his lips in a scratchy kiss. "Thank you so much, baby," you whispered, feeling his lips spread against yours before he brought you back in for a much-more passionate kiss. "Hm!" You hummed, pulling away to scold, "But no more, all right? You spend too much money on me - I mean, who the hell needs three designer dresses?"
"You do," he whispered, "you deserve all of this, sugar, and I'll do what I can t'spoil you the way you should be. Might as well get used to it, I got no plans on stopping."
Your eyes rolled in good faith, excusing yourself, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Lemme get changed and we can - "
"Nah," he shook his head, petting the skin of your back exposed from the brown satin dress with his fingertips, "know what? Stay in the dress, I wanna take you out and show you off."
Your lips found his in a breath-sucking kiss, trying to convey your appreciation and giddiness over never having been spoiled like this in your entire life - feeling grateful, refreshed, and privileged for a man like Bucky in your life. Whatever greater force there was in this world, you thanked repeatedly for choosing you to love this man and for this man to love you. There was no telling what you did to deserve him, but blessed be those heavenly powers.
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requesting rules and masterlist
MCU masterlist
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vxntagedior · 1 year
Text
protector
summary | the moment bucky fell in love with you
pairing | mob!bucky barnes x fem!reader
warning | angst, arranged marriage, age gap, insecurity, violence, fluff ending
word count | 1.5k
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You didn’t know anyone in that room. Staying flanked to Bucky’s side, letting him parade you around the room as he talked with the other men he did business with. It wasn’t no secret about what Bucky did, it was how you married him. 
Being the only child, and along with being a girl, your father wanted someone to pass down his business to, though offering it to you first, declining immediately because you couldn’t be a part of the mob, Bucky was next pick. 
Bucky came from his own lineage, his own family wealth, already the boss of his family business and now the head of yours. After getting married, you moved into his family estate, far from your father and mother, but having the little words of encouragement from your mother made it a little better. 
“If he ever hurts you physically or mentally, his reputation be damned, I’ll get you out of there.”
Bucky was the opposite of what you expected, he was respectful towards you since the wedding, making sure to put your comfort first even though your marriage was purely transactional. 
Your parents' relationship was the same, but your mother grew to love your father, and the way he worshiped her made her safe. You wanted that one day with Bucky. 
Giving a small smile to all the people you passed, there were a few men murmuring to each other about your relationship, some of the women glaring at you, all the same looks you received once you were married. 
It wasn’t no secret Bucky was handsome, powerful and wealthy, the whole package to women in the room, and they were envious, a little jealous. 
Bucky’s arm was around your waist, squeezing you occasionally, reminding you that he was still looking out for you. Coming up to a group of men, Bucky slid his hand away from you, shaking the hand of everyone. 
“And you all know my wife.” He smiled, reattaching his arm. Smiling behind your champagne glass, you just nodded, glancing over each other before your eyes widened. 
Brock Rumlow. 
Brock was originally supposed to marry you, but once your father heard about what he had done to a business partner's daughter, he cut ties with him. You remembered Brock in your father’s office, the two of them yelling back and forth, hiding behind a pillar, seeing him storm out the estate. 
Looking out of the corner of his eye, Bucky noticed how you tensed you quickly, looking down at the ground, keeping that in his head, he whisked the two of you away. 
“What’s wrong?” His voice was rough, turning so he could fully look at you. 
“It’s nothing.” You shook your head, not wanting to ruin his night. Bucky just looked at you, but you kept up your wall, “It’s fine, I just thought I saw something.”
Bucky knew you were lying but he wasn’t going to demand you to tell him, just nodding, “You tell me anything if somethings wrong, I don’t care.”
You just nodded, agreeing with him. 
Sitting down for dinner, happy that the two of you had a table to yourselves, but seeing as everyone was looking at the two of you, mostly you, waiting for your next move, like they were waiting for you to do something wrong. 
“Don’t worry about them.” Bucky whispered, “They’re just envious of you.”
That made you calm down a little bit, finishing up your dinner, making your way towards the stage. 
Watching Bucky walk up, you smiled, clapping loudly for him. Standing on the edge of the room, you stayed out of eyesight from everyone, well almost everyone. 
Brock had been watching you since the moment you walked in with Bucky. He knew it was you that messed up the arrangement, watching as Bucky came in at the 11th hour, taking all of it from him. 
“Well, well, finally alone Mrs. Barnes.” Tensing up at his voice, you tried to get away from Brock, not being past enough, him grabbing onto your upper arm dragging you away. 
“Let me go!, stop!” You tried to yell but it seemed like Bucky’s speech was ending, and as everyone started to clap, it canceled out your plea for help.
“Shut up, you bitch!” He shoved you against the wall, cornering you. Turning your face away from him, your arm starting to bruise, tears starting to cascade down your cheeks. “You ruined my life!”
“What?” You didn’t understand what he had been saying. Scoffing, Brock brought his hand to your face, smacking you across the face. Letting out a gasp, your hand instantly came up to your cheek, cradling. 
“BUCKY!” You tried to yell, some sound coming out before Brock covered your mouth. You knew what he was capable of, your eyes wide, pleading for him to let you go. 
“You know,” He smirked, his other hand slowly creeping up your leg, “I always wanted something from Barnes, his fortune, but I think I got a better prize tonight.”
Before anything could go further, Bucky had been looking for you since he was on stage, remembering where you were standing, seeing how you were gone. Scanning the room again, he saw how Brock was also gone, assuming the worst. 
Ending his speech early, he darted off the stage, making his way towards the back of the gala, hearing you call for him.
“BUCKY!” 
Eyes wide, Bucky followed the sound of your voice, running down one of the empty hallways, seeing you at the end of it. Seeing red, Bucky stormed towards Brock, shoving him off you, slamming him into the wall. 
“You piece of shit.” He spit at him, his forearm pressing against neck, Brock gasping for air, “You think you come here and mess with my wife.”
“C’mon Barnes, she was asking for it.” He smirked. Bucky’s eyes hardened, stepping away from Brock, before swinging a punch to his face. 
You gasped, your hands covering your mouth, not knowing what to do, if you should pull Bucky off him or go call for help, both a bad idea.
Standing there helpless, you watched as Bucky punched Brock til the point he was unconscious. 
Standing up, wiping the blood from his nose, Bucky turned back to you, seeing the two bruises on you. 
“Are you bleeding?” His hands were soft on your cheek, caressing the bruise carefully, not wanting to hurt you anymore. 
“No.” You whispered, “But it hurts a lot.”
Saying nothing more, Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulder, bringing you to the car, forgetting about the gala all together. 
“We can’t leave.” You protested. 
“Your hurt, nothing is more important.” He stated, leaving no room for you to argue. Letting you hold his hand the entire way home, your thumb slightly moved over his bruised knuckles, touching it softly like he did when he held your cheek. 
Driving in the estate, barely bringing the car into park, Bucky was already out the door, coming to your side, bringing you into the bathroom. 
Pulling out the first aid and medical equipment he had, setting you up on the bathroom counter, Bucky rummaged through it all. 
“Nothing’s gonna make it go away.” You whispered, not wanting to get him mad, “It’ll go away on its own eventually.”
You didn’t know what caused it, but watching him freeze, his head still looking down, you heard him let out a sob. 
“Bucky.” You said cautiously. Looking up at you, tears now in his eyes, Bucky couldn’t help but apologize. 
“I’m sorry.” He choked, “I’m so sorry.”
Wrapping his arms around you, Bucky cried onto your dress, his head pressed against your chest. Not really knowing what to do, you slowly cradled his head in your arms, running your hair through his hair. 
“It’s okay.” You whispered, pulling him away from you, wiping away his tears. “I never told you about it and you were protecting me, that’s all I could ever do for you.”
It was like a lightbulb in both of your heads had clicked, looking into his eyes, before looking down at his lips before looking up at him again. Bucky seemed to have the same idea, slowly leaning in. 
The kiss was soft, your hands still on his face, slowly moving your lips in sync with his. Pulling away, you rested your forehead onto his, smiling softly. That kiss was the first one since you were married and had been better than you imagined. 
Letting out a watery laugh, Bucky stood between your legs, his hands on your waist. “I wanted to do that for so long.”
“Really.” You whispered, you always thought Bucky never really thought about a romantic relationship with you. 
“And I know that we haven’t really been a married couple, and I didn’t want to pressure you into anything, letting you take the first steps. I know that I wasn’t your first choice, but I promise you, I will always make sure you’re okay, you are my number 1 priority, I didn’t marry you for your father’s chair, I married you because I knew that I could see a family with you.”
Smiling, you caressed his cheek, sighing softly. “I love you.”
Bucky always believed that he didn’t have a heart, he didn’t have any love in his body, never imagining he’d be married let alone being married to one of the most wonderful women he had ever met. 
“I love you too, my love, with my whole being.”
fin.
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marnle · 1 year
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My sweet, sweet Dove - Mafia!Bucky x Fem!reader
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Summary - Bucky Barnes finds the peace he so rightfully craves in his best friend, the worlds upon his shoulders, yet his lust for you lives on through his darkest of days.
Warnings - smutttt, juicy af, mentions of violence, slight alcohol consumption, grinding etc.
A/n - Hi all, my requests are open! I’ve never really published my works before, so this is all new to me, but feel free to drop a request, and I’d love to see what I can do! :)
Enjoy, safe reading! <3
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You sauntered into the kitchen, it was incredibly dark, yet a small lamp situated in the corner illuminated the majority of the room, drowning it in a blanket of rusty amber. You grabbed a small glass and walked towards the sink, filling it with cold water, it swirled around the glass as though it were a prisoner, fighting against its confines. You propped yourself up on the marble countertop, it was icy underneath you, a considerable difference to the heat that burned underneath your skin and through your veins. The deep, angered and somewhat laboured voices that previously echoed through the halls had silenced. They’d swirled through the walls, up the stairs, and burst through the windows too. Bucky had informed you that he was working late, you’d understood what he’d meant, yet the scale of debate that evidently had occurred left you feeling drained - and you hadn’t even been in the room.
Bucky was one of your closest friends, your main confidant in the times you needed him most. So when you informed him that you had nowhere to stay, he practically offered his whole life to you, and you took it with his blue eyes piercing what felt like your soul. So you resided in his main estate where he conducted his official work, his official business meetings, you knew he was dirty, and downright inequitable, but his loyalty was unlike any other, your friendship was unlike any other, and you owed him the world and more.
So as you sipped your water, and pondered the evident lack of sleep that laced your features, you didn’t hear his office door finally open after hours, or the trudge of his tired feet upon the dark wooden floor approaching, the leather of their seams making the slightest of noises.
His black silk tie sat loosely around his neck, his mountainous shoulders were tightly winded practically up to his ears, the top buttons of his previously pristine shirt were undone, and said shirt was hanging messily out of his slacks, of which sat loosely on his hips, his brunette hair was unkempt, almost spikey as the last of the gel he’d previously put in began to finally wear away.
“Doll? You alright?” He asked, snapping you out of your trance, he moved opposite to you and plopped himself shakily down on the floor with a large sigh, leaning against the kitchen cupboards behind him, his head thrown back in a show of exhaustion.
You simply hummed.
“Why are you still up?” He queried, running his large hand through his hair, absolutely destroying any remnants of orderliness it previously had maintained. Glaring at the girl in front of him almost alarmingly.
“Couldn’t sleep is all.” You replied, taking another small sip from your glass before handing it downwards towards Bucky. He accepted it, and pulled out a metallic flask, pouring a brown liquid into the mix, swirling it, then drinking it. It burned the back of his throat and warmed him from the inside out. He looked at you curiously, his oceanic eyes bore into yours in order to gauge a reaction. It was silent as you returned his eye contact, you were sure you could hear a pin drop.
“Well, hand it over.” you laughed nervously, taking a gulp of the alcoholic beverage. It also burned your throat, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust. You could hear the deep rumble of Bucky's laughter in the background, it sounded angelic to your ears.
“Bad night?” You asked, anxiously pinching the skin of your fingers as you awaited his reply, not wanting him to ever suffer at the slightest. You observed the way his jaw slightly clenched and went slack, how he breathed slightly faster at such, and slowly regained his composure not a moment after.
“Something like that Doll.” he replied, letting out yet another sigh. In complete honesty, the meeting was a mess, his business partner had backed out of a paramount deal, meaning he’d have to find a backup as soon as possible, something that wasn’t likely. This left him open to financial attacks elsewhere. He’d even lost his temper, covering his golden signet ring that sat dormant on his finger in a layer of carmine; the ring you twirled when you felt anxious. His business partner had messed up his ring, his new enemy had messed up your ring, and Bucky had made sure he paid for it.
“Is there something I could do to make you feel any better?”.
He subtly nodded, allowing his stoic exterior only to fall in your presence, something that exhausted him beyond words.
He kneeled and shuffled towards you whilst you sat upon the counter, arms open, knowing exactly what he needed. He pushed his head into your stomach, breathing in your scent, roses and fresh linen, it made him feel safe. His was sandalwood, it engulfed your scenes and knocked the wind out of your chest, just like it always did.
You placed your hand upon his head, stroking your fingers through his hair as you felt the tension leave his large body, you leaned down and placed a small kiss on the crown of his head.
This caused him to gaze up at you, a longing in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, and you were sure yours mirrored them as such.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You whispered at a barely audible level, you could feel his warm breath against your skin.
“Like what?” he replied, his voice breathy and almost desperate.
Your hands moved down from his hair towards his chin, cupping his face as though he was the last living being on earth. Your eyes fluttered between his lips and his eyes, the room was spinning, the air was thick.
“Like this.” you whispered before slowly bringing his face to yours, and placing your smooth lips over his own.
Bucky felt as though his world had stopped, his heart was erratically beating, his head didn’t feel as though it was his own, his body wasn’t his own. The tension had been snapped just as quickly as it arised, and Bucky felt as though he was on cloud nine, there and then he decided that the feel of your lips against his own was the singular most effective high he’d ever encountered, it was a high he was now addicted to, and one he’d never ever let go.
He stilled in your grasp, causing you to pull away.
“Bucky, I’m so sorry.” You muttered, a wave of red covered your cheeks, horrified at what you’d just done. Yet before your brain could sabotage you further, and convince you otherwise, Bucky slammed his lips onto yours, grasping the back of your neck in his large hands. He groaned at the taste of you, a sweetness he’d only ever imagined.
He pushed into your mouth, your teeth collided in a show of desperation and finally requited lust. You slid your hand into his brown hair once again, yet under completely different circumstances.
You grasped his hair, pulling him off of your lips, it made him groan.
“Tell me you don’t want this, tell me you don't Bucky.”
“You know I can’t.”
He picked you up, wrapping his large arms around your torso, his fingers pushed under your shirt, drawing circles upon your skin, skin of which felt as though it were a juvenile flame of the sun.
You tucked your face into the crevice of his neck, his scent was the strongest it had ever been, it blinded you, and you loved it. You dragged your lips across his neck, biting and nipping at whatever skin you could, making his groans rougher, whinier.
He’d walked you both into the living room where he dropped backwards onto the couch, you in his arms. You were sitting in his lap, he was so extremely hard under you that you couldn’t help but tease.
You slowly rolled your hips, the friction causing you both to moan in unison, in pleasure. He grasped your body as though you were his life line, and even though he hadn’t said as such, you both knew it was true for the both of you.
You continued to grind against him, you moved against each other as though you were made for each other. Your moans were beautiful, they made him lose his mind, his great intelligent mind reduced to nothing simply by your presence alone. His hands grabbed your hips for a moment, your face was directly in front of his, you inhaled his breath as though it were your last.
“Doll, I can’t last long like this.” He moaned, more like a whine, in an attempt to keep his composure.
“I bet.” you replied, causing his mouth to fall even further open in a state of disbelief, allowing you to sink your teeth into his lip, stealing even more of his sacred breath away.
Instead of slowing down you sped up, with Bucky’s hands gripping your waist so tightly, you were sure his touch was to be ingrained upon your soul. He ran his hand down towards where you longed for him most, and cupped your pussy, pushing his palm into your clit, causing you to let out a moan that echoed off of the walls, a moan he was sure he’d never forget. He ran his other hand up your body towards your nipple, and twirled it between his fingers, swapping between the two, making you feel as though you were atop of the world. The sight of you was enough for him to come right there, yet he’d only ever imagined this moment, and wanted, no, needed to drag it out for as long as possible, as long as he humanely could.
“Come on baby, let go for me.” He purred, gazing into your eyes as yours fought to stay open.
“Shh, that’s my Doll, let go love.” And you did, your body arched into his grasp, he pushed his palm even further into your clit as you came, creating such delicious pressure, you thought you were going to burst. You wrapped your arms around his body, engulfing him and curling into him to fit his form as though you were perfectly moulded to him as he came too, groaning and bucking his hips whilst his stomach and glistening abs contracted over and over again, he’d entirely lost control, the lust he felt wasn’t matched by another soul.
Your sweaty bodies sat wrapped around each other, breathy whimpers left the both of you as you fought your natural instincts to breathe. Bucky grasped your face, and silently laughed as he brought his lips to yours once again.
“My sweet, sweet Dove, how you’ve had me forever.”
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Fanx 4 reading bros :)
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lonewolfwriting89 · 11 months
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ON MY KNEES
Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Oral.
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His broad shoulders were pinning you to the wall, your bodies pressed up so close that you might have been one body mass. You felt Bucky take your arms and place them around his neck before taking the kiss deeper as his tongue slid in, caressing yours.
The sensations were too wonderful to resist. You knew you were going to lose it, lose all control. And the funny thing was, you wanted to lose it, wanted to forget all that you’d seen and been through in one night.
So you kissed him back, pressing your lips firmly against his, revelling in the low growl that emanated from the base of his throat. Your hands were no longer pliant but around his neck now, clutching, tugging, pulling at his dark hair, wanting him to do more than just kiss you.
Bucky’s hands ran up the length of your sides, caressing the newly exposed skin with his calloused fingertips and knuckles. Goosebumps broke out on the surface of your skin as his teases sent spirals of desire coursing through your body. You arched your back, bringing your firm breasts into contact with the clothed heat of his chest and he groaned, the need to feel your naked body against his reducing his strong body to tremors.
The shirt that you wore became a distant memory as he tore it off you, letting it slip to the carpeted ground around you both. His hands then moved to knead the sides of your breasts, deliberately avoiding the curve and peak of them. You whimpered, a silent plea for him to touch you, tease you, ruin you.
But he took his time as he led you into another kiss, this one more delicious than the first as he plundered your mouth. You gripped his upper arm, your nails leaving crescent indentations on his rough skin, almost desperate now for his touch.
Bucky’s fingers teased the underside of your breasts and you writhed, the need to feel his flesh overwhelming you. Your fingers tore at his expensive dark shirt and he threw it to the floor in one quick jerk.
Oh God, you thought. He was so beautiful; all dark beauty rolled into a toned solid mass. And he wanted to ravish you. It seemed to slip your mind that he was the head of the mafia. Or maybe, it didn't really matter.
His hands strayed over the waistband of your panties and you moaned, wanting the little triangle of material out of the way. You put your hands over his, helping him with the task of discarding your underwear. As you stepped out of them, he went to his knees, still holding you up by the hips. You felt your core soak, seeing this devilishly powerful man on his knees… for you.
The first touch of his tongue against the wetness of your pussy made you clutch desperately at his shoulders. He was teasing you with tentative licks over your core, lingering around the area where you needed him most.
You tilted your head back onto the wall as you felt his tongue position itself to lap at you in long, deliberate strokes around your drenched slit. Your clit was so swollen that you could feel the throb of it sending bolts of electrifying pleasure throughout your body. You thrust your hips into his sinful mouth and he took you fully, devouring you.
“Oh fuck”, you breathed as you felt an orgasm nearing. His tongue was travelling in broad strokes along the length of your pussy. Up and down it went until in one brief change in rhythm, it went plunging in, into the depth of your sweetness.
“Oh god!”, you screamed as you felt something tighten inside you. All the undiluted pleasure seemed to centre at your core deliciously before expanding and rupturing at a voltage that was too much for your body to handle.
You sobbed Bucky’s name, a high keening sound that tore from your throat as you held onto him as he took you flying, beyond yourself, beyond stars. Your screams slowly turned into mewls as the remaining shudders racked your body-- a body that was now too weak to stay aloft. A body that now belonged to him.
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stuckymonkey · 8 months
Text
Stolen
Mafia Bucky Au
Pairing - mafia!bucky x fem!reader
Summary - y/n lived an ordinary life as a surgical resident in New York. Her father left when she was young, and her mother recently passed away. Bucky was promised by her father to get his firstborn daughter, unfortunately for y/n, that fits her description perfectly. Kind of enemies to lovers.
Warnings - violence, angst, being taken against will/kidnapping, mentions of death, stitches and medical things, mentions of suicide, mild cursing
Word count - 3.5k
a/n - i was feeling some angst, let me know what you think! feedback is always appreciated!
masterlist bucky masterlist
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"Clamp" Joe said from across to table to one of the scrub nurses. "Lap pads" I said. We were doing a coronary artery bypass graft on a six year old patient. Five hours in and Lena was doing really well. She had maintained stability the entire time, making recovery look good for her.
I was about to irrigate when the door to the OR burst open. Me and Joe didn't look up, too focused on finishing Lena's cabg, starting to close up her heart with delicate sutures. "Y/n Y/L/N?" a low masculine voice boomed out. My head shot up to meet Joe's eyes, silently asking what to do. Her eyes were almost as wide as mine.
That voice belonged to James Barnes, head of the Brooklyn mafia. They had access to anywhere and everywhere in Brooklyn, no questions asked.
After having a silent conversation, we both opted to go back to Lena's heart. The voice boomed again, this time louder and much closer. "Y/n, scrub out." Joe whispered. I couldn't scrub out. Not now. Not while it was just me and Joe with a few scrub nurses. She couldn't close alone. "No." I kept suturing, almost to the point where we could start to close up entirely. "What?!" her head jerked up "I said no. You can't close on your own. Lena has been my patient for six months. I know everything about her, and her family. I am finishing this surgery with you and I will be there when they see their baby girl for the first time in six hours." I clipped the last suture, ready to close up her chest. "Y/n, I think you should listen to Joe and scrub out."
I suddenly felt cold metal pressed to my temple. "Put the tools down Y/L/N. I'm not afraid to pull this trigger." I heard the click of a bullet sliding into place at the end of his threat. I was shaking with tears running down my cheeks at this point. "I'm sorry," I said to Joe, it was obvious that I was crying. Through blurry eyes, I saw a tear slide down her cheek too.
What was going to happen to Lena? And her family? What would Joe tell them? I stepped back from the table and let Mike, my favourite nurse, help me take off my gown and relieve my trembling hands from my sterile blue gloves.
Even if I wanted to, I couldn't go back to that table. By pressing a gun to my head, James had broken the sterile field. "Well done," James spoke lowly into my ear. I hadn't noticed when, but his hand was wrapped securely around my arm. He led me away from the table, out of the OR and into the hallway where he stood in front of the elevator. The entire time my sobs never ceased and neither did the grip he had on my arm.
He let go before we left the elevator. Outside, many of what were probably his men waited for us. They lined the hallways. I felt like a sheep being herded by big, powerful, scary wolves. Tears were still running down my face as I made eye contact with my Chief of Surgery and Resident Chief. I had grown close with them over the years, and now they were watching me be escorted out of the hospital.
They knew what this meant. I was taken. The mafia had me now. Tears ran down their faces, and the faces of my coworkers who I loved like family. I tried to keep my head up to let them know I would be okay, but I couldn't help the way my shoulder shook from my sobs.
James helped me into a black car. In the front seat was a blonde, with a driver who had dark skin and short hair. I didn't try to hide the fact that I wanted to be anywhere but here. I felt exhausted, more emotionally than mentally.
"Where are we going?" I asked. "Home." James said, adjusting the cuff of his dress shirt. "I hate you, James Barnes." I said, defeat laced in my tone. "Please, call me Bucky." he said. He sounded sad. That bastard. How did he have the nerve to be sad when he is the one who chose to steal me out of my OR. "What are you going to do when I kill myself?" I asked. "You won't kill yourself." the driver spoke up. "Sam-" the blonde said in a nervous and warning tone.
"She won't." he said, looking at the blonde. "You're y/n y/l/n. You're a surgeon." he said, looking at me through the rearview mirror. Everyone's attention was on him as he refocused on the road. "You saved my sister's life, Sarah Wilson. Pancreatic cancer. Four hours after being in your OR she was cancer free. We were told to start planning her funeral. I was signing paperwork to legally adopt my nephews, but you saved her life." he looked into the rearview mirror at me again. "Thank you."
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We arrived at "home". During the long ride to the outskirts of Brooklyn, I learned that the blonde's name is Steve. He and Sam were Bucky's seconds in command. Steve helped with the dirty stuff like interrogations, and dealing with orders and shipments of weapons. Sam helped as well but he was also really good at chauffeuring Bucky wherever he needed to go.
There was a very very long gravel driveway leading up to Bucky's huge mansion. It was pretty, I had to admit. Nice dark brick with ivy, a beautiful garden that I bet Steve helped out with, and a peaceful fountain in the center of the drive. I noticed more fountains in the garden area. We had passed tall black iron gates on the way in, giving me an eerie feeling of what the interior of the mansion would be like. Probably dark and scary.
Boy, was I wrong. The inside was beautiful. White marble stairs, golden curtains and natural light everywhere. It felt soft and safe, while still looking professional and wealthy. I was scared to touch anything, it all looked so clean and like everything was in its place.
Bucky dismissed Sam and Steve, leading me up the stairs and to the right of the hall. We walked for quite a bit before he turned into a room. "This is yours. You are to sleep here and I will have all of your stuff here in the next two weeks." He turned to face me, "My office is down the hall to the left, first hall to your right. My room is down the hall to the right, first room on your left hand side. If you need anything, ask me, Sam or Steve. Nobody else lives here but the four of us." he sounded so calm and collected. Did he steal people often?
"I don't live here." I corrected him. The quirk in his eyebrow let me know I shouldn't have spoken. I didn't care. It couldn't get any worse than this. "You do live here. You will not leave this property until you ask me for permission and you have been assigned an escort." "I do not live here! You do not own me, and I am going home. I have to go to work, and I will not stay here." I clenched my jaw, waiting for him to say something.
"Y/n, you live here. Your father promised me his first born daughter just before your mother got pregnant. He was a horrible man, you knew that. Your mother never knew about the deal. You are mine and you will not be leaving. Are we clear?" I hated how the tone of his voice made me clench my thighs together, but I hated even more how he was speaking to me and how he thought he could just keep me here.
"No! I will not stay here! You stole me out of my OR while I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A SURGERY! An open heart surgery. A poor young girl's life was in my hands, Bucky!!!! You could have killed her!! She was INNOCENT!! I hate you. She could have died. Her parents have been in and out of hospitals with her for six years!! Six years, Bucky! She is six years old and her whole life has been within the walls of hospitals and I had a chance to change that. You could have ruined her life and I hate you." I was so angry, tears were running down my face again. I felt warm and exhausted. The urge to just sleep and hope this was a really really bad dream came over me. "Get out." I spat through my teeth, daring him to challenge my order.
He almost looked pitiful as he left my room and closed the door behind him.
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The bed was uncomfortable, and I had none of my own possessions. Bucky had come in later to apologize, which fell on deaf ears. He had thankfully given me one of his shirts and some sweatpants before he went back to his office. The sheets on the bed were scratchy, and his pants were too warm.
At around 2 a.m, after no luck at sleeping, I slipped out of my room and headed towards his office, just like he had directed. I figured he would be there, being a surgeon I know what it's like to stay up late to get work done, especially if you're stressed. Which I assume he was after kidnapping someone.
I opened the door slowly to reveal Bucky. His jacket was discarded and a few of the buttons on his shirt were undone. "What are you doing here?" He asked after looking up at me. I felt his gaze rake over my body, now only clad in his shirt and a pair of my underwear. "I need your help," I said calmly. I was desperate after only a few hours with this man. I felt pathetic.
Bucky's eyebrow quirked, encouraging me to continue. "My dog, Joe is probably watching her. I wouldn't know because you took my phone, but that's what I'm assuming." he looked intrigued, with his head tilted to the side and his hands still instead of typing. "If Joe isn't watching her, she only has enough food and water for one day, unless she drinks out of the toilet bowl, but I don't really want her to do that, not that it isn't clean! But she's a big dog and-" "y/n." His cold voice stopped me right in my tracks. Shit. This is probably where he refuses to help me get my dog.
"Please," my eyes began to water at the thought of her at home, all alone, wondering where I went, and then possibly starving to death without anyone to take care of her. "She's my best friend, and I promise she won't be any trouble, I'll pay for everything, I'll even pay a rent fee or something! I just really need my dog back." I think he could see my lip wobble because that look of pity from earlier came back.
"I used to have a dog," his voice surprised me just as much as his words. I looked up at him inquisitively, "She was a Great Dane named Nala. I get it. I'll arrange to pick her up tomorrow, and some of your things later in the week." "Thank you." I whispered before turning to leave his office.
"What's her name?" I heard just before I reached the door. "Hazel," I smiled at the memory of her. "She's an Irish wolf hound." I said sheepishly. at my confession, he smiled. "Goodnight y/n." "Goodnight Bucky."
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It's been a week since we got Hazel, and Bucky has seemed kinder and kinder every day. It was probably just because Hazel was such a good dog, but a part of me hoped I helped to make him happier too. When I brought it up to Steve and Sam they had both agreed it wasn't just my dog.
Another night rolled around and I still didn't have anything else of my own. I had been sharing clothes with all three of the men, including underwear. The night was the worst time for me, always leaving me frustrated at my inability to get comfortable enough to sleep. Hazel had no problems, sleeping soundly at the foot of my bed just like she would at home. Or my old house? Was this place really my home?
At 1 a.m, when I hadn't heard any movement in a while I snuck out to Bucky's bedroom where I knew he wouldn't be. He was still in his office working, I knew because I hadn't heard him walk to his room, something he doesn't usually do until at least 3 a.m. Hazel had decided to follow me, making this a bit harder to get away with when being followed by a huge Irish wolfhound.
Slowly, I opened the door to his bedroom. It was gorgeous. He had an abundance of pillows, a soft blanket at the end of his bed and thick creamy coloured duvet. Dark wood furniture decorated the room, complemented by dark curtains and hunter green walls. The place was gorgeous and very well decorated. I moved closer to his bed and found an extra soft blanket under the duvet. I slid it out and draped it over Hazel's back so my hands could hold other stuff. I grabbed a body length grey pillow, deciding he wouldn't miss it for one night.
Before he came to his room, we scurried back to my bed as quietly as possible, Hazel not dropping the blanket once.
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"That's the best she's slept in weeks, boss." I could hear voices outside of my bedroom. Steve. The curtains were closed, so it was still nice and dark in my room, then another voice spoke, "Really? She hasn't been sleeping well this whole time?". Bucky. "No, she tosses and turns all night. Honestly, I would too if I didn't have anything of my own.". Sam. "She likes your pillow though." Steve commented.
I didn't want to get up yet but I didn't want to be watched either. I slowly opened my eyes and lifted my head to see the three men in my doorway. Steve and Sam smiled before walking away with waves directed at me. I waved back before focusing my gaze on Bucky.
"I see you like my stuff." he smirked, slowly making his way towards my bed. Hazel jumped off to go find food, her bowls had been placed in the kitchen. "You know, it's wrong to steal sweetheart." Bucky was looking down at me now, his hands in the pockets of his neat dress pants. "You left me with no other choice," I said without much confidence.
"I don't have any of my things, and these sheets are god awful and scratchy." "Maybe I just like seeing you in my clothes," he hummed. A warm blush coated my cheeks as he leaned closer. "You're kinda cute sweetheart." At this point I could smell his minty breath, and feel it as well. "Give me my stuff, and you'll get yours back." I suggested before flopping down on my bed and pulling the covers over me, specifically the blanket I stole right off of his own bed.
He laughed before tugging at the blanket to reveal me clinging to his body sized pillow like a koala. I refused to meet his gaze, instead keeping my eyes closed. "I can't sleep unless I'm comfortable." I stated.
"I get that. We'll have Steve pick your stuff up, but you can keep the pillow." he winked.
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That afternoon, Bucky had sat down and had lunch with me. He made eggs, bacon and fluffy toast. I helped a little, making us tea and setting the plates at the black marble island.
"So, I was thinking, you can start working remotely until they absolutely need you back at the hospital." his eyes met mine, waiting for a reaction. I was excited, but I tried not to show it too much since I really shouldn't have been taken from the hospital in the first place. "Then, once I'm sure it's safe, you can go back."
"Safe?" How did my safety play into this decision? I was confused, I was always safe at the hospital, save for the occasional confused patient. "Y/n, your father had a lot of enemies, quite a few of them are associated with other mafias, none as well built or known as my own. He promised you to me in hopes that peace could be made, but he betrayed several of his promises and upset more people than he could handle. Because they can't get to your father, they might get to you next."
"Fine. But I need to get to the hospital sooner rather than later. I have a million patients and I've missed so many rounds. For all I know, Lena could be out of the hospital by now. I haven't had contact with anyone for weeks." I sighed, to which he frowned at. "I know, and I do feel bad but I also care about your safety."
I blushed at his admittance, not used to being romantically cared for. Over the days that turned into weeks, we had grown to like each other. Maybe this arrangement would end up working after all.
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"Fuck."
Bucky had given me a space to work within his office, so that's where I was when I heard a string of curses and muffled groans near midnight. The door suddenly swung open, revealing a bloody and battered Bucky.
"James?" I asked. "Hey -shit- y/n/n." He clutched his right arm to his abdomen. There was so much blood from so many different places. "It looks like you need my help," I sassed, getting up to help him settle down on the leather couch. His "yeah" was cut off by a groan. "I need to take your shirt off, okay?" Concern was surely painted on my face as I saw his blood soaked jacket.
"At least buy me dinner first," he laughed. "Ha ha. I'm glad you're in a decent mood," I said while starting to unbutton his white work shirt. I rolled up the sleeves of his black Henley that I was borrowing. He had three major wounds: one on his cheek, one on his right arm and one located on his lower abdomen.
"This is going to hurt," I warned, getting the first aid kit from across the room and preparing the peroxide. He hissed as I poured it over every wound, dabbing them after with gauze. "You're doing great," I tried to smile sympathetically while remaining focused.
"I'm going to stitch your face first, okay?" I asked, getting the supplies ready. "I don't need stitches." he countered. "Bucky, this wound is deep and it's not going to stop bleeding until I close it. You need stitches." "Doll, I'm fine, just leave it."
"Right! Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I forgot that you had a medical degree." I said sarcastically. He blushed in return and stayed still while I started to stitch his cheek.
A part of me wanted to make a jab about being out of practice, due to being kidnapped from the hospital, but I held back. Bucky was a good man and we were starting to bond and get along way better than I had ever anticipated. I learned that he had a sister, Steve had been his best friend since highschool, and he had inherited the mafia from his father.
James was a man who loved dogs, and making sure the ones he loved were safe, from his best friend all the way down to Anne, the maid and housekeeper. Another hiss pulled me from my thoughts. "Sorry," I winced. "Almost done."
"Thank you" he said after I patched each site with gauze and polysporin. "Anytime." "I guess we make more sense than I thought." he said as we sipped coffee in the kitchen. "How so?" I laughed. "A surgeon and a mafia boss. I could use you doll." He smiled. I tilted my head to the side in mock offense. " 's that all I am to you? A good pair of hands to tend to your messes, Mr. Barnes?" I asked. "No no no! I just mean that we make sense, you know?" I smiled at him over my mug. "I know."
He started leaning closer to me, to the point where I could feel his breath on my lips. Bucky's eyes met mine over the small table, his flesh hand coming up to cup my cheek, the other resting its cooler touch on my neck, pulling me in. I never fought once, instantly kissing him back when I felt his lips meet mine.
I sighed into the kiss, letting him hold my face and tip it back. His tongue caressed my lower lip before bringing it into his mouth, sucking on it tenderly. My hand moved to cover his flesh one, leaning into his touch slightly. He inhaled me as he pulled back. I felt my face flush and go warm and his hungry gaze, as if I was his prey and he wanted to devour me whole. "Bucky," I panted.
He smirked devilishly. "You like that, doll?" I nodded dumbly at his question. Bucky's eyes creased at the corners when he smiled, tilting his head down to look at me. "I like you," I whispered. He leaned closer, "I like you too, printessa."
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Over the weeks, I had started sharing Bucky's room with him. I had an abundance of plush blankets and soft pillows to cuddle with. He had started coming to bed earlier, and I have started back at the hospital. Joe and my other friends missed me while I was away, and I can guarantee that I missed them just as much, if not more. My Resident Chief and Chief of Surgery both cried when they saw me walk back into the hospital lobby, happy and unharmed.
Life was good again, and I finally felt peace.
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neonovember · 25 days
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Deceit
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Mafia!au x Steve Rogers
CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.
divider by @firefly-graphics​ !
Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)
@tinkerbelle67 @patzammit @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory@nomadstucky @nessie2183 @shamelessfangirl-3 @namelesssav @marvel-phoenix @euphoric-goddess @roseeatta @abschaffer2 @louderfortheback @stupendouslovegardener @wandamaximoff-simp @thedonswife13 @hpsimpspot @samsgirl93​ @cynic-spirit
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Bucky is quiet the ride over, dark steel greys surveying the road eagerly, like he was waiting for someone, or something to give him a reason to jump out and spill blood. 
The wheel wains in his grip, and his dark hair falls over in waves, pushed back behind his ears and smelling of pine nut and mint. There's a hint of a smile on his face, he knows you're watching him.
You avert your gaze quickly, looking towards the mountain trees on either side of the asphalt road ahead.
The relief you had thought would fill you as Bucky pulls into the potholed road of your apartment is blank, and your chest fills vacant without the heat of it. Your mind is restless, and the entire ride over had given you ample time to think over everything that had happened earlier. 
You had folded and unfolded every piece of information Bucky had told you about Steve and all it had done was make you feel like you were intruding, like you were given privy to something you had no right knowing. Like peeking through the cracks under closed doors as a child listening in on their parents.
Where your street had once been busy with loitering huddles of gaunt faced men, a quiet murmur settles over the ground floor of your apartment complex, all the way up to the hallway to your place. 
And as you pass by a few stragglers who blanch when Bucky shifts his hard gaze towards them, stuttering over their own feet and rushing back to their alleyways, you have an inclination that it was all Steves doing.
His reach was absolute.
You didn’t know what to feel, you’ve known displacement for too long. 
Separating from your betrothed, separated from the life you had been half folded into, separating from the very syllabus of your name. 
The spaces between the letters get further and further as the years go by. Until you can hardly remember if your namesake is really yours, just a frightening sound that came out of your husband's mouth.
This is different though. Until now, your instinct has always been right. And yet, when you think of Steve? When you try to find footing in your gut it comes up wobbly and unsure.
Was he something more than he let on? Did he only uncover pieces of himself for his own benefit? 
Bucky had told you he had lost his own wife, and young too. Forced to be exposed to the brutality of the world before he could even get a chance to indulge in youthful recklessness. 
You feel a sense of empathy for him, but also, also surprise. It isn’t the murder, or your own husbands doing that causes a slight slip of your heart. The truth is much more foolish instead.
There was a time Steve was ready to forsake this entire life, live forever looking over his shoulder, turn back on tradition that was as deep as marrow, all for love.
You could laugh if you had remembered what that felt like. The thought outright unnerves you. Steve? The gluttonous leader who held sanctions of New York with an iron fist? 
It drives a pit in your stomach when you think too hard about what it means. 
There’s a fiery jealousy that swarms you, you had never understood the wielding power that love carried all your life. It was a feeling, just like any other was it not? 
Yet it had men like Steve falling to his knees!
And all that swarms your mind is how it’s so unfair, that you’ve never experienced such a thing. That you may never will. Forced to succumb to the life that was only half yours, down a path so far the ground had changed beneath you.
What did it feel like to give in? To show all your misgivings with unabashed apprehension? To let yourself, all of it, to another person?
Anything close to a love like that had come from the faded memories of your father, his warmth and deep gritted protectiveness over you. And that had been stripped from you quicker that you were able to forsake it.
You suppose that wasn't meant to be dealt in your cards, which you had come to understand were drawn years ago. You lie to yourself, but during some nights the aching desire to feel something, to taste the deep gripping love that had caused even Steve to lose focus explodes deep in your gut. 
Your longing for connection was something you hid well, and god didn’t you get awfully good at hiding these years? Fit yourself in nooks and crannies that were too small, smoothed out your jagged edges to click into the puzzle pieces.
And yet, the empathy you had silently shared, the intimate conversation you had had with Steve in your mind is stamped out with swiftness as Bucky walks you to your door.
That was then, now Steve had made it perfectly clear where he stood. The cool indifference and hardening this life caused had stolen any shine or hope that Steve may have held those years ago. Everything he did now was calculated, for the betterment of broadening his kingdom. 
He might as well have died along with her.
Bucky leans against the hallway, eyes surveying the decrepit halls lit by overexerted linoleum lights. You hesitate a moment, before popping your keys into your door, twisting it this way and that to get it to open.
You flinched as the door opened wide, almost like you were expecting someone to be standing right behind it, waiting for your arrival before pouncing. You’re a child, waiting for the ghoul in the closet to jump out.
Yet all that is there is the same peeling walls of your small entryway and some shoes and a coat strewn to the side in your haste to get to the diner early those days before. 
You’d much prefer the monster.
Days, it had only been days, so why did it feel like a lifetime since you stepped foot into your home? 
You don’t know what you were expecting, for your apartment to change when you had been kept away from it unceremoniously? For someone to have cleaned out the dishes lying in the sink, and ruffle the pillows lying on your old sofa? 
You had craved mundanity for so long, craved consistently at a time where you didn’t know which face of your husband you would meet those days. 
When the monster living underneath your husband's skin would jump out.
But now, you crave something more. It simmers right under your skin, deep within your chest and its shadowy fingers flutter over every inch of you.
Your apprehension is evident by the way Bucky shifts his way towards you stuttering frame.
“Hey, I wouldn't be so keen on coming home to this place either. Those carpets don’t look that inviting" Bucky replies, there is a sight lilt in his voice as he drags his eyes across your depressing furnishing.
You cut your eyes towards him, narrowing your lids.
“Not everyone lives in an exorbitant palace you know” You gruffly reply, shuffling into your door in a way that was more spite than eagerness.
Bucky breaks out in a grin that takes up half his face, his hand stuffed into his suit pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.
“Talking like a woman who hasn’t done just that half her life” Bucky replies, cocking his head to the side.
Oh right, your husband's estate that took up half of the city. One that was never, and would never be in your name.
You drop your handbag onto one of the hooks attached to the hallway, turning towards Bucky with a sigh.
“That’s different” You reply evenly
“Oh yeah? How so?” Bucky murmurs, eyes shining with a smile
“I was never welcomed in that home- house. God it would never be a home no matter how many architects and designers dressed it up. You think I escaped ‘cause it was my safe haven?” You cock your head to the side and Bucky’s face evens out. The smile adorning his features morphs back into his face as a look passes through his eyes.
“You don’t have to worry about that with Steve-”
“Oh yeah? Because he is the most upfront person to talk to. Right. This place, as depressing as it looks, is solely mine. It’s the only thing I have on this goddamn earth that hasn't been mauled and changed with my husband's fingers. Or the life he leads. You might not understand it, how important that is but-”
“I do. Trust me” Bucky replies, cutting you with and he offers you a nod that was more understanding than half the world's he promised to you.
Can I? You wonder thoughtfully. Was this just a part of some elaborate plan that Rumlow had clued you on? You were everywhere all at once, topsy turvy and turned inside out. This was the life you had to live now.
“Good” You say instead, wringing your fingers as Bucky’s phone begins to buzz from his pants pocket.
You wait for him to reach for it immediately, but he doesn't, just remains quiet as he taps his foot against the hardwood floor. There seemed to be a look of understanding that passed between you when he had racked his fist against the wall adjacent to your door. 
The blues of his eyes twinkled under the sun peeking through the hallway window, and you didn’t realize it then but it was trust that shined in his eyes. Like the words he had shared with you warranted the same secrecy he held with the other men he worked with. 
You had paid in flesh and blood for your silence, what more was another pound?
The ring runs through, and the silence soon returns between you both.
“I’m not going to the mouth off to half of Brooklyn that their most influential business man likes painting” You reply with a murmur, eyes darting left and right as if neighbors were listening in. Enough of them had watched you walk to your apartment door, eyes strained on Bucky and his shoes that shine too bright. Faces that had never even said hello had craned their necks as you passed, of course. Whispers of inquisition under their breath.
“I know you won’t” Bucky replies instantly. “Just- let him explain the rest of it, yeah? ‘S only fair you hear it from him” 
“Fair?” You raise your eyebrows, “You’re talking about fairness now? Bullshit. If you were guided by some moral compass I wouldn't have been forced into this, you wouldn't even be in this life” You snark unconsciously.
Where does this all come from? You hadn't even raised an eyebrow at your husband, and now you were bad mouthing a man with a gun poking through his waistband. You look down, staring at the unusual stain in the hallway carpet you never quite knew what was. The anxiety and timidness you were used to coming back tenfold.
Bucky doesn't retaliate, just looks towards you with a feather-like smirk.
“I was wrong about you, y’know?” Bucky whispers, leaning in as if he were divulging in a secret he couldn't let be spoken in the open air.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re everything like Steve.” Bucky replies thoughtfully, a far away look taking over his dark features. 
He’s miles away, reminiscing about parts of Steve that had been left in the dark. He looks younger than, when you notice the way his eyebrows scrunch and his locks fall flat over his face. 
But it's enveloped back into Bucky in a second, a sad smile replacing his grin.
“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call” 
Giving you one last nod, he turns back towards the hallway entrance and it takes you a few moments before you realise.
“But I don't have your number!” You call out, leaning out your door
His brown locks shift as he turns back to you
“You sure about that?” A raise of his eyebrows at the ping of your phone, waving you with two fingers.
You don't have to pull it out to know it's him. And you can't help but let out a chuckle before turning back and shutting the door firmly.
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You find yourself accompanying your time scrubbing down the floorboard and yellowed walls of your home, filling your hours since Bucky had left with meager tasks. It helps you think, concentrating on little chores around the house so you don't have to think about the thoughts that rattled loudly in your mind.
It’s still well into the morning, and as the sun filters through your drapes you lean back on your heels nodding accomplished at the glint of the shining floors. The walls were an impassive yellow, never yielding no matter what cleaning products you threw at them, but beyond the old entryway carpet the apartment was lined with pristine hardwood floors that shined with a little elbow grease.
Not that shitty huh Bucky?
Wiping the sweat that had grown increasingly uncomfortable above your brow, you make way to your small enclosed kitchenette, swiping a cup from the drying rack before you watch the water fill to its glass edge. You gulp half of it down, before your much needed break is interrupted by the faint buzzing of your phone emitted from somewhere in the living room.
You forage for it quickly, searching till you find it wedged between the cracks of your couch. You pause for a moment, considering whether it might be Bucky, or Steve calling but as you see the vibrating screen of your manager's face you slide the receiver across the screen.
You brace yourself for the inevitable screech of her voice, you haven't been to work in days, an irregular for you considering the mountain of bills that left your bank account squandered each month. You needed this job, and now Steve hand upended your life, you fear it’ll slip through your fingers.
Manager calls, you pick up, she’s very quiet and apprehensive and is all sweet in a a way you remember she never had been before. She’s almost scared to talk to you, asking about a shift you could cover and you say yea without thinking. You need a distraction. Even if Steve had made it clear you no longer needed to worry about work.
“Hello?” You reply, eyebrows furrowing at the beat of silence that fills the space usually used up by ** loud un yielding demands.
“Y/N? Hey, how are you doing” Replies carefully, as if choosing her words.
“What?” You blurt out
You can’t help the confusion that puzzles your voice, who was this person? In the months you had spent working at that dead end job not once has she ever asked how you were. Not when you had spent half your break with your head in your toilet the first few months you had escaped. A cat on edge, nerves frazzled by even the slightest heavy stamp of a dress shoe.
What had changed?
You don’t have to kid yourself, you know the answer deep down. Him, it always goddamn is.
“Sorry, uhm I’m been doing good” You reply “I apologise for kind of just disappearing on you and the Diner”
“Oh that? That’s totally fine, once your friends cleared that up” 8 gulped, the sharp exhale of breath filling the receiver at the mention of this friend of yours.
“Friend?” You reply
“Don’t worry about it, I’m glad your doing alright. Uh-, so uhm ’s sister dropped her kids off at 4am last night at hers, she cant her shift. And * got SAT prep. Can you fill in if possible it’s totally okay if you can’t, I needed to stay back a few anyway-”
“Sure” 
You needed the distraction, you felt stifled in the walls of your apartment. It wasn’t meant to be a prison, and yet the only time you felt truly free now was when you slammed the door behind you.
“-oh, Oh thank you! Thank you so much. If you could come in at 12, it’s just the afternoon shift. And if you need to leave for whatever reason it’s totally fine you don’t even have to tell me-“
“Mare?
“Yes?”
“Relax. I miss the diner and it’s crappy linoleum lights anyways”
Mare snorts into the receiver “The teams missing you too”
After passing a few more instructions on the wave of Russian tourists coming through Brooklyn this time of year you let your phone clatter onto the coffee table.
Sure, your manager could be a pain in the ass but being passive aggressive didn’t warrant a mob leader holding you at gunpoint.
You wonder what Steve had said to her to cause her to be this shaken up, she was the most stubborn woman you’ve ever met. It couldn’t have been easy to have her yield, at least not without some sort of real threat.
Especially in New York.
You rifle through your bag before grabbing your work uniform. The musty smell of old oil and grease makes you throw it haphazardly into the laundry basket before reaching for a clean shirt.
You try to look presentable, washing your face with the bathroom tap that never not juts out cold water. You avoid your reflection when you pay your face dry, which is interestingly enough, hard to do since it’s well..your face.
Drawing the wisps of coils that spring free you pull your hair back into a bun. You don’t bother with makeup, it never quite sat right on your face when you did it. Reaching for your bag and throwing your phone and the rest of your miscellaneous, you hurry down the steps of your apartment complex. 
Popping in your earphones as you step into the train carriage, you memorise the dock and pull of the train ride till you feel your stop. Your music swims through your veins, and you breathe it in before opening your eyes to the tram doors opening.
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flordeamatista · 1 year
Text
𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲'𝘀 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗔 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳
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pairing:  DBF!Mafia Bucky Barnes x Mafia!Princess Reader
concept: The truth is you wanted him even if it might shake the world, but in the end, he is your world and you are his queen.
word count: 1k
warnings: poetic fluff with cute themes, poetic love-making, fing—ering, semi-public love-balcony love, kisses, hair pulling, age gap, secret relationship,- nickname--( Princess) Lupul alb= white wolf in Romanian
a/n: just a cute daydream because he looked so dilf.
the cute gif and moodboard made by me
lovely beta: @writing-for-marvel thank you for letting me scream with you
line divider: @s-tarksintern
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Masterlist
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The lines on his skin where your lips rested still evoke a feeling of breathlessness, a spark of the flame that he ignited in you that night.
Whispery murmurs of the night breeze flicker along the pure white curtains as they catch the gleaming moonlight of the night. You can actually see your heels dancing on the marble floor, as you look at your reflection on the floor. 
Your eyes are drawn to the pictures adorning the walls of the mansion's study room. As you are leaving the ballroom to get some fresh air, you’re curious about who the man of the house is. 
Your eyes catch sight of him in his striking portrait, with cerulean eyes fiercely peering into the dark shades. 
You have never seen anyone else quite like him. 
A man in satin and a shiny suit, his hair gelled back, a man in power, a mafia dilf.
Lupul alb
“Fucking him will be a dream, but he seems a bit cocky for my taste.” You hold onto your champagne glass as you draw closer to his portrait.
Heavy steps are heard resonating through the room until they become loud enough to be clearly heard. As you turn around, you see a powerful man in a tux staring at you smolderingly. 
“Here, Princess, have a taste. But, if I taste you, no one will be able to have you but me, the cocky man." a voice behind echo.
Your mouth suddenly dries up. 
His close proximity causes your heart to race. The weight of his stare makes you shudder.
Dropping his sapphire eyes to meet yours, you hesitate to breathe as your body voluntarily moves towards him as if under the sway of the wolf himself, his tight grip tingling your skin. "Is that enough cockiness for you or do I have to ask you what you are doing in my office away from the party?"
Rather than run the world, let's be skin to skin. 
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The mafia princess of another territory knows you should stop, even if you are in the arms of a mafia king you desire.
You feel at peace even though it is so dangerous and risky. 
While you are pressed against his balcony, one hand is beneath your dress and the other is between your legs, pressing deeply into your body. Your dress falls down from your right shoulder. 
 The grunts and growls from Bucky with each thrust make you forget that anyone at the party can see you being fucked out. 
His fingers wrap around your wrists, holding them in place as he sloppily kisses your neck and leaves his marks all over. 
Each touch sets you on fire as his kisses fill your skin. The more kisses you receive, the more desperate it becomes to be touched. 
There is a tickling sensation on your skin as his golden bracelet tickles you. He has locked you down for him alone.
When he first saw you in your father's office, you were so innocent and pure. Because of how shy you were, you could not even look at him. The most significant deal in his life was to have access to your sweet body and hear your moans for him alone.
“Shhh, princess, you don't want to get caught with the big bad wolf, do you?”, he bites you on your neck roughly and groans. "I'm going to show everyone that you are mine right here and now." His hips thrust into you slowly.
The moment he saw you in his bed, it was as if your soft sounds, your moans, drew him in even deeper as he craved your innocence, and he kept coming back for more.
It was as if your ragged breath spread clouds over the dark night as you breathed in a silent moan at the full moon and savored each thrust and kiss. 
Feeling intoxicated by his intense sensation, you clutch his dark chestnut hair and shift your hips with his. 
"You're becoming a brat, Princess, and I can fuck the brat out of you." You can feel the heat of his mouth covering yours before he kisses you roughly.
Your eyes rolls to the back of your head as he pulls your chin to blow down on your neck. 
While you are trembling, your heart pounding, and softly screaming his name, a tingle of pleasure sweeps through your body. Your climax is ignited as you hear the stars of the night engulf in pleasure. 
As his trust, he wanted to take hold of every part of you.
Your life depends on it, so you scream loudly so everyone can so everyone can hear who the man making your every wish come true is.
Your heart desires him.
The two of you deserve each other.
Bucky is always called a cold, calculated proud man by the people who see him.
You sigh breathlessly as he caresses your cheek. His thumb rubs over your soft lips. 
In his eyes, you do not see cruelty, but you see eyes that have changed you completely. 
The truth is you wanted him even if it might shake the world, but in the end, he is your world and you are his queen.
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georgiapeach30513 · 1 year
Text
I’m Your Whore
Summary: who deserves to be called the White Wolf
Pairings: Geralt of Rivia X Reader X Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers
Rating: explicit
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, PIV sex, unprotected sex, threesome, rough sex, sucking, sex with an audience, creampie, hair pulling, D/s dynamics, cuckolding, spit roast, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 2.1K
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
Geralt Masterlist
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“We’re here ma’am,” Pietro looks at you through the rear view mirror, and you wait for your bodyguard to open the door. Upon looking away, Pietro gives a quick wink to the giant at your side.
Geralt leans over to you, whispering a quick, “Are you sure you want to do have this meeting in your condition?” You roll your eyes and push the man out of the car.
“Go on, White Wolf. I will not have you telling me what it is that I need to do,” Geralt loved your sass. It was a bit unpredictable at times, and he hopes that you are of clear mind during your meeting with Steve and his own White Wolf.
He gets out, holding the door open for you, and extends his hand. Waiting for you to take a few steps forward, and he begins following you. Your head high as you walk through the halls of Steve’s estate. Your heels clicking down the way, alerting Steve of your arrival, and he peeks his head out of his office.
“Nice of you to join me,” the blonde man gives you a nod as he holds his hand out for you to follow him into the room. You greet his own guard Bucky with a nod, and wait on Geralt to pull out your chair before he takes the place behind you. His hands crossed in front of him. Geralt gives a quick smile to Bucky, and turns his gaze down to look at your lap.
“Steve, what is the meaning of this?” You cock up a perfectly arched eyebrow watching as he takes his place at the other end of the table. Bringing your fingers onto the table, your French manicure taps on the lavish wood, but he still sits there quietly.
His ringed fingers rub over his lips, pursing them in thought, “Steven? I haven’t got all day.”
“It appears that we have a dilemma?”
“Oh?” You turn your head to look at him, “And what is our dilemma?”
“Do you not find it curious that both our guards have the same nickname?” You lean back into your chair, and shake your head. When he continues to sit silently, you tap on Geralt’s hand, and he scoots your chair back. Standing up with his assistance, Steve’s slams a fist on the table, “Sit down.”
You sit quickly, glaring at him. Daring him to say another word, “I proposed a way to determine who should keep their name,” you sigh, taking a deep breath, annoyed that Steve was wasting your time. “Why don’t they see who can make you cum faster?”
“Steve!”
“What?” He chuckles, “Are you trying to say that you haven’t look at either of these men and imagined what they would feel like buried in between your thighs? You keep Geralt on a short leash, while you eye Bucky every time you’re in his presence. Try and deny it, Darling. You are curious.”
“Is this why you gave me an out to this meeting?” You turn around to look at your White Wolf, and he nods with a smirk. “The three of you just casually discuss my cunt?”
“Yes,” Steve tells you, spinning around a few of his rings. “It’s not everyday we see a strong woman with so much power. Sometimes it’s nice to see the face she makes at her most vulnerable?”
“And when is that, Steve?”
“Right before climax. You let your walls down as your cunt clenches down on a fat cock. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head, while you’re taken to another plane of existence. Just pleasure. Pure, unadulterated, sinful, pleasure. Seeing how both men want to keep their nickname, you will be the judge on who is in fact the White Wolf? Look at it as becoming their She Wolf. One will rise in ranks, while the other will be reborn. Are you not going to take me up on my offer? I’m giving you a gift.”
Steve’s eyes darken as he watches you. Your eyes coast down Bucky’s front, before you look back at Steve, “And where do you propose that this takes place?”
Steve snaps his fingers, and Geralt lifts your body up, sitting you down on the table, before he steps in between your thighs. Pushing them so wide that your skirt rips. Gasping up at him, and Bucky crawls on the table behind you.
“You’re wanting to watch?” You look back nervously at Steve, but he was already making himself comfortable in a chair, perfect to view you being taken apart by the large men. Bucky’s mouth attaches to your neck, and he leaves a trail of goosebumps with every open mouth kiss he presses onto you. Sucking bruises into your skin, while Geralt’s fingers make shapes on your thigh. Slowly making their way up higher.
“Why would I not want to? I need to see which one brings out the prettiest sounds in your voice,” he stands up, walking behind Geralt. Getting right in his ear, while his lust blown eyes stare down at you, “Here’s your chance White Wolf. Fuck her.”
“Geralt,” you say his name quickly, but then his body rolls, and you feel his bulge at your core.
“What do you say, Darling? You up for the challenge?”
“Yes,” you whimper out, and Bucky lays you flat on the table. His mouth moving your own. Kissing you upside down, while his fingers rip off your blouse. The different feeling of his flesh hand and metal hand kneading your tits has you moaning into his mouth.
Geralt rips off your panties, and spreads your legs out wide. Whistling at just how wet you were, and it was all for them. His hands grab at the back of your knees, and he brings them down by your side. Making your legs go in the same direction as your head, and Bucky finally lifts up. Watching Geralt take his thick cock out, and slaps it against your clit, creating strings of his precum and your arousal.
Pushing his thick cock in your entrance, he quickly pushes all the way in, before pulling out just as fast. Leaving you whining at the violent stretch and added loss of him. Panting, and Bucky lifts you up, and forces your head to look at your spread cunt. “Watch him this time,” he coos into your ear.
Geralt slides into your warmth slowly this time. Wanting you to feel every inch of his cock. Every ridge of his length hugged by your cunt tightly. And when he bottoms out, your wide eyes look up at him. Bucky’s hand presses onto your stomach, and you look over at Steve, “What is it?”
“Oh, he’s in her stomach. You see that,” he moves his hand, bringing your own to the bump on your belly. “You feel it?” Geralt pulls himself out slowly. Achingly slow, and you watch the bulge disappear. And then he pounds into your heat with fury, and you feel it balloon back up. “You like that? You like how deep he is?”
“Uh-huh,” your fingers grip onto his wide waist, and you give him a little nod. “Wanna feel you more, White Wolf.”
Geralt grunts, and starts rutting into you. Overpowering your body, while you become a complete mess. “Steve,” you call out his name, eyes glancing over at him. He was enjoying the show. Taking a slow drink of his bourbon, while his hand palms himself. “Steve!”
“Does your White Wolf make you feel full?” You nod your head, gasping when Geralt’s tip edges at your cervix. “He is a big boy. Thick and veiny, just how you like it, huh? You gonna be a whore for Geralt?” You shake your head no, because while you enjoyed this, you didn’t want to be a whore for him.
“Would you hurry up,” Bucky pleads, giving your nipples a hard pinch. “I wanna see how much her hole is gaping when your finished with her.”
Geralt, a man of few words, picks up his pace. Rolling his pelvis deep into your cunt. He was a genius. Hitting every one of your spots, and your eyes go hazy as euphoria pulses through your body. Your velvet walls clench tight around him, and he grunts, struggling to pull himself out. You had him in a vice grip. Taking every inch of him.
“She’s been gripping me tight,” he grunts out. Gritting his teeth, he slams into you one more time before his spunk paints your heated walls.
“Move,” Bucky demands, getting himself onto the floor. He twists your body to lay on your stomach. Gripping your hair at the root, he lifts your head to look at Steve, “Want him to see what a mess I can make you.”
His movements were smooth as he pushes into you. His own little whimper rings into your ears, and you weren’t prepared for how soaking wet his pretty sounds were going to make you. A fresh flood of slick coats your walls. And he moans again. Starting to rut into you vigorously.
Hips pounding onto your ass, and he starts nibbling at your shoulder. Smirking up at Steve when his hand wraps around your body, and he starts making tight circles on your bundle of nerves. Bucky lets go of your hair, and your head droops down. Your mouth dry at all the sounds you’ve made, but there was one that Steve wasn’t ready to hear.
“Bucky,” you choke out as pleasure overtakes you.
Steve stands up, and is over to you in two strides. Gripping at your cheeks, lifting your face up to look at him, “Now, I thought I told you I was giving you a gift. These two men may be fucking you dumb, but I’m the only one that should be on your mind. If I hear you say, moan, scream, or even fucking mumble one of their names again, I will fuck you so hard you’ll be walking funny for a week. Don’t test me, Princess. You said I owned this pussy, and I will let anyone fuck her, and you’ll like it, but only your husband’s name echos off those pretty lips. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” you pant out. Your voice was hoarse already, and your head bounces around with Bucky’s motions. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“You’re forgiven,” Steve was so fucking hard. He was refusing to pull his cock out. His thick hand just rubs over his tighten pants, and you drool at how calm he was.
Flat on your stomach, while you look over to your husband, Bucky props himself up on his fists. He pistons hard into your abused snatch, and you let out a loud drawn out moan. Everyone in the house can hear you. Could hear the table legs scratch the floor with every hard pound into you that Bucky makes. Your pussy makes loud squelching sounds. It reverberates off the wall, and all three men are mesmerized by how much you could take.
Geralt walks over to lift your chin up, and you realize that he had crawled onto the table. Your face right in between his thighs, “You’re not too dumb to suck on my fat cock, are you?”
“N-n-no,” Bucky doesn’t slow with your whimpers. In fact it just makes him slam into your harder. Using his thrusts to bob you over Geralt’s cock. Bucky doesn’t even care that your cunt is clenching down on him again. He looks up at his best friend with a smirk. Flicking his head over to Steve, who stands up.
Bucky makes sure to pull his cock almost completely out of you. Letting your husband watch as your cream coats Bucky’s member. Your slick covers his cock as it glistens in the lighting.
“Yep, this is a perfect way to occupy your mouth. So who gets to keep the White Wolf?”
Pulling his cock out of you, Geralt slaps you across the face, asking who again, pulling his dick out of your mouth to slap across your cheeks. “Both. Both,” you whimper out again. Looking up at Steve who finally fists his cock slowly. “Both!” You scream out as Bucky slams into your cunt one last time before he spurts deep into your core, and you moan out Steve’s name.
“Alright, gentleman. Stay if you wish, but looks like we’re going to have to do this again. At least until she chooses” he walks over to you, and pushes Bucky out of the way. “Stay if you must, but now, I’m going to be the one to fuck my wife. Even if she is a bit incoherent now. You can handle a few more orgasms, right?”
You give him a nod as he lines himself up. Taking a deep breath before he barrels into your warmth, “I’ll let you know when you can play again boys,” Steve always controlled the situation. Always. “And you my darling wife. You take cock like the best girl. It’s like you were made to be my whore, huh?”
“Yes, sir. I’m your whore.”
Masterlist
@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @infatuatedjanes @missusbarnes-rogers @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @peaches1958 @thedarkplume @rebekahdawkins @seitmai @harrysthiccthighss @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @smile1318
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sunflowersoldat · 7 months
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Blood In The Water Master List
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Main Master List
Series Summary: Spin-off to All is Fair. Mob syndicates are yours and your partner's specialty. They don't call you the Sharks for nothing. There is blood in the water in New York City, not only is know Mob affiliate Steve Rogers missing, but the two other Mob bosses died in a huge shootout last year. It is up to you and your partner to uncover the truth, but not all is as it seems.
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Series Warnings: 18+! Mentions of blood and violence, bad language words, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, death, trauma, please follow the warnings for each chapter. There are chapters with brutal and dark themes, please read at your own discretion, warnings will be before each chapter!
Pairing: Mob!Buckyx FBI Agent!reader
Chapters are in chronological order.
Ch. 1
Ch. 2
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queers-gambit · 7 months
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Clingy Baby collection masterlist
a collection of varying muses labeling Reader as "clingy".
got another idea for being clingy? lemme hear it! requests CLOSED
requesting rules and masterlist
mostly hurt and comfort, some angst some sequels are being fleshed out
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God's Plan
your boyfriend carries the worst parts of his job home, bringing to life one of your deepest-seeded insecurities. >>> or when a fight breaks out with your boyfriend, you're called clingy to your face.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader
word count: 3.1k+
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
🎭 drama 🥺 hurt 🚫 no REAL comfort 🙊 general language and content warning 🍄 toxic relationship
read here
part two: Two to Tango
the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.
word count: 5.4k+
🎭 drama ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💔 small angst 🧸 small fluff ☠️ discussion of deceased family member 🙊 general language and content warning 💣 relationship angst 🔏 barely edited
read here
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Curiosity Killed The Cat
few weeks after rescuing you from a kidnapper, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become. >>> or you overhear your boyfriend call you clingy to his friends.
pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
word count: 5.1k+
fandom masterlist: Marvel
🎭 drama ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 🦋 modern AU 💸 mafia AU 🙊 general language and content warning 🥊 brief depiction of physical violence and / or aggression 🫠 description of self-destruction 🔏 barely edited
read here
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You Might Think It's Foolish
meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time creates anxiety, so, you stick to his side. at dinner, his mother calls out your clinginess - and Aemond doesn't defend you. >>> or when someone else calls you clingy and he doesn't defend you / agrees with them.
pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x female!reader
word count: 3.1k+
fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon
🎭 drama 💔 angst 🥺 hurt 🚫 no comfort 💣 relationship angst 🐝 stand alone 🙊 general language and content warning 🐍 toxic family 🍄 toxic relationship...? 🔏 barely edited
read here
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Not All That Glitters is Gold
during your engagement dinner, you learn from your fiancé's niece that he hold choice words about you. >>> or when you find out he's been talking behind your back; calling you clingy. it comes to light during a public outing.
pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader
word count: 3.1k+
fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon
🎭 drama 💔 angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💣 relationship angst ⏳ AU timeline 🙊 general language and content warning 🔏 barely edited
read here
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Save Me From Myself
in a moment of unparalleled anger, you learn what Joel really thinks of you.
request: Can i request joel miller for the clingy baby series!! Maybe they were traveling together w ellie and she clings to him bc he always kept her safe until he calls her clingy one day.
pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader
word count: 1.9k+
fandom masterlist: The Last of Us
⚠️ mild spoilers 🙊 general language warning 🥺 hurt 🚫 no comfort 💔 mild angst ❗️ short fic!
read here
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requesting rules and masterlist
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adoreyouusugar · 1 year
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I’m trying to remember who is was but it was a mafia boss Bucky fic and he is like trying to get with his chef / baker and he kissed her and she’s like “ holy shit I need to bake a cake “
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m4tthewmurd0ck · 2 years
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a very small sneak peek at something i’m working on inspired by my thoughts that were way too long when @sweetdreamsbuck​ asked for all the fluff and thoughts! i think i’m actually incapable of thinking up just cute short scenarios. my mind instantly turns even the smallest thought into a full story, oops? nobody ask me what the word count is already at because as usual, i have no self control asdhgasfbjas;v this is just the very beginning of how you meet!
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     When you met one James Buchanan Barnes, you didn’t think much of the situation. You hadn’t yet heard the stories, the rumors that seemed to follow everywhere he went. He was a man that was feared by most, and for good reason. But to you on that first day, he was just a man. A very attractive man, yes, but you pushed those thoughts aside.
Of course, he noticed you right away. Sat outside of a little cafe, a book in one hand while you used the other to sip whatever was in your cup. You were new in town. You had to be because he definitely would’ve remembered seeing you before. He had to learn your name. 
Luckily for him, you were a bit clumsy and tended to not pay as much attention to your surroundings as you probably should’ve. When you got up to go return the cup to the employees, you bumped into him as he was walking by. And luckily for you both, you’d consumed the whole thing. Well, almost. When a few drops splashed onto his suit that you guessed cost more than you paid monthly for rent, your eyes went wide as you immediately began to apologize. 
“It’s alright doll,” he chuckled, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket (because of course he has one), dabbing at the drops. “It’s a dark suit, see? Already gone. Can I buy you another cup?”
You just spilled the last of your drink on this man. And he was… offering to buy you another?
“Oh—umm, thank you but it’s alright. I don’t think I should have any more caffeine anyway. I really am sorry for bumping into you like that.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m Bucky, by the way.”
The men standing about 15 feet away, glanced at you, then at each other. They were his private security, and spent practically all day every day with him. He never introduced himself as Bucky, to anyone. That was reserved for close friends, those in his inner circle. 
You smiled as you told him your name, and you felt your nerves slowly disappear.
Bucky’s nerves on the other hand, had quite the opposite reaction, especially when you smiled at him for the first time. Oh boy, he was in trouble.
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stuckymonkey · 9 months
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Masterlist
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Welcome aboard ⚓🦜
Minors DNI, but you are responsible for your own media consumption.
Requests and asks are welcome! I will try to write them as best and as fast as I can!
about the authour
Angst 🩵 Fluff🍓 Smut🐓
✿ᴗ⁠✧ᴗ⁠✷ᴗ⁠✯⁠ᴗ⁠✯ᴗ⁠✷ᴗ⁠✧ᴗ✿ᴗ✯⁠ᴗ⁠✯
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bucky barnes
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sebastian stan
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natasha romanoff
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buckynat x reader
stucky
stucky x reader
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steve rogers
sam wilson
chris evans
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kinktober week 1
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neonovember · 1 year
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Redwood Oak’s
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Mafia!au x Steve Rogers
CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 
summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.
divider by @firefly-graphics​ !
Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)
@tinkerbelle67 @patzammit @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory@nomadstucky @nessie2183 @shamelessfangirl-3 @namelesssav @marvel-phoenix @euphoric-goddess @roseeatta @abschaffer2 @louderfortheback @stupendouslovegardener @wandamaximoff-simp @thedonswife13 @hpsimpspot @samsgirl93​ @cynic-spirit
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Steve's words echo loudly in your skull like a ball being knocked around your head, turning your brain to mush. The warmth of Steve's breath that had gripped you like a vice had dissipated the second the both of you had entered the expansive room of Steve's Office.
You don't see it, but Steve clenches his jaw in tight restraint to stop himself from putting a hole in Rumlow’s head and instead envelopes himself into the stone-faced demeanor he had learnt to form the moment he stepped up to the throne destined for him.
But god, did that horrified look on yourself tear Steve from the inside out. What had he done to you? It screamed betrayal in Steve's mind, that you not only had been hurt but by one of his own men. The man who had sworn to protect you had lied. And for Steve, his word was as good as its weight in fucking gold.
Steve had to play it level headed, the heavy weight of his father's presence was always near, but it seemed to cloud his vision at this moment,
“Don’t do nuthin stupid, think, just stop for a second and think”
Steve didn't want to think, he wanted to delve deep into the darkened desire within him that preened at the idea of Rumlows blood dripping between his clenched fists. Steve’s desire for violence shocked him a little, he could feel his fist shaking under his grip, like they had a mind of their own.
Steve wasn't a violent man, he was sensible, it didn’t matter if the entire city of New York believed he was cruel, because he knew every action had a means, it wasn't just to spill blood and crack skin. Steve’s entire enterprise was never built on appearances, despite the world it lives in, nothing Steve did didn't have an objective reason. He thought that would be a light of mercy before the spray of blood would coat his button-up.
But now, there didn't seem to be any reason to wait and sit, in the end, it all seemed sensible. Any threat of danger to your life needed to be eliminated, and returned with such a display of cruelty that no one would try it again. There was a gnawing feeling, however, at the recesses and edges of Steve's mind, the kind that screamed at him to see what was truly happening.
“Look”, and Steve learnt to listen.
There was something more to Rumlow than just scaring you, something more sinister, it echoed deep within Steve and the reminder of the cruel world beneath the gravel ground was as clear as ever. Steve had to find out because now he felt that your safety was his responsibility, an obligation he felt every bone within him scream to fulfil.
“Bucky” Steve calls the brown-haired man dressed down in a black suit, the outline of a holster poking through the waist of his jacket.
Bucky murmurs something into Sam's ear, before making his way towards Steve, his gaze shifting between you and the tall blonde standing a few spaces behind you.
“Need something from me, Steve?” Bucky says, making an effort to keep his gaze towards Steve, despite Steve's gaze being situated on you.
“Take our friend here to get something to eat, and then use one of my cars to get her home”. Steve murmurs, almost discreetly so only the three of you can hear.
You noticeably fidget at the mention of going home, it wasn't that you didn't want to, you did, by all accounts, but you didn't know what you would open the door to when you did end up back at the decrepit apartment complex you loved. Your apartment wasn't necessarily known for being the most well-secured, but you figured your neighbours would at least tell you if someone had broken in and trashed the place.
Steve moves towards Bucky, turning his body to face away from your wandering gaze
“Take one of my unmarked cars, it seems we’ve got a fuckin rat in our very own house” Steve whispered into Bucky’s ear, causing Bucky to turn his head to face Steve. A look passes between the both of them, their eyes conversing in a way words never could, in a way that told you they had been brothers long before this entire world fell upon their shoulders.
“Well go on then” Steve’s deep voice whispers into your ear, you can taste the heat of his hand pressing onto your waist, as you feel the outline of his revolver press into the small of your back.
“Don’t think I won’t hurt my men to protect you, I’ll kill him if I have to” Steve murmurs, he doesn’t have to say his name, but your mind has been repeating it enough to know who he's talking about, and your heart skips a beat in surprise, air catches your lungs and you have to swallow back the strange feeling brewing in your stomach before following Bucky’s pointed gaze out the office doors, several dozen eyes watching your every step.
The squeak of Bucky’s dress shoes and the click of your pump loafers follow each other down the carpet and painting-lined hallways. You sneak glances through half-open doors and you're met with similar pictures, women and men dressed in black and white staff uniform cleaning and dusting away priceless antiques, ruffling pillows and beds that were never going to be slept in, and folding the endless crisp white shirts Steve wore.
You pass a hallway that looks different to the rest, darker somehow like it was sacred. You don't see any of the endless staff coming out of any of the rooms too, and the millions of questions it springs forth have your eyes squinting to see past the 2 main opening doors.
Bucky turns a corner quickly, and without realising you bump into his back, the rock-hard muscle acting like a brick to cushion your fall. You can’t help but let out a loud yelp, before Bucky turns and catches you from falling flat on your face.
You look up at him clearly flustered, and Bucky gazes down at you in interest, he begins to murmur something but thinks better of it, and slowly lets go of his grip on your waist.
Coughing, he straightens his suit, before motioning forward
“We’re here”
“Hmh? Where is here-” You say
“Oh”
You look towards the expansive dining room, fitted with leather couches surrounding a cast stone fireplace connected to a brick stone kitchen, an iridescent chandelier hangs from the tall ceilings, looking as if diamonds were dripping from above, and the halo of a sparkle glints over the both of you and you can't help but gaze in awe.
“Gorgeous isn't it?” Bucky says, and you glance at him watching the way the chandelier cuts the sunlight so it breaks across the dining room.
It was beautiful, despite being in a room that was in a house of violence, it was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.
“Bucky? I thought you already emptied out my kitchen” Calls a voice from the kitchen
Bucky turns towards the voice, a smile for the first time appears on his face and he walks up with you trailing behind.
“You’re still here? I thought Steve gave you the rest of the week off?” Bucky says, and as you walk past the expansive dining room you see a woman dressed in a dirty apron, wiping down a pristine marble countertop that Bucky leans on.
Pots and pans hang from high above the centre block, glinting in a perfect steel arrangement, long panned windows filter light in from the manicured lawns and an array of shelves and creme cabinets line the kitchen. A double burner oven is situated against a grey stone wall, and low-hanging lantern lights are hung from above. David would have loved cooking in this kitchen, that is all you can fathom as you gaze across the opulent space.
You are too fazed to take notice of the conversation happening beside you, until the kind woman looks towards you, cocking her head, her hazel eyes gaze you up and down, taking notice of your strange attire.
“And who is this?”
“One of Steve’s friends came here to get her something to eat but if you're leaving, just know your kitchen is in great hands” Bucky smirks towards the woman, who shakes her head reverently.
“Oh absolutely not, he burnt soup once, goddamn soup!” The woman scolds, a frightened expression taking over her face as she widens her eyes at you.
You can't help but let out a giggle, she was nice, this woman, dark auburn hair braided into a fishtail cascades down her back, her cheeks full as her big brown eyes smile at you.
“Hey!, it was one of those artisan ones alright, screw me for trying to follow a recipe online” Bucky replies, rolling his eyes at the woman as he tries to argue his side to you
“It’s soup Bucky, you put it in a pot and let it heat up” You reply, shaking your head, the woman looks up at you swiftly, a look comes over her face and she nods.
“By your clothing, I can see you are a curator of the kitchen as well?” The woman replies
You look up at her surprised, “Oh no, I’m,-I’m just a waitress”
“Well does the waitress have a name?” She replies
You hadn't had to introduce yourself for much of your life, your name and entire identity stolen and curated by your husband until he was the one introducing you, and now, the sound of your voice feels foreign on your tongue.
“A pretty name for a pretty lady, my name’s Katerina, but just because you're a friend of a friend you can call me Kat. So what would ya like darling?” She says
“Oh, no” You take notice of the recently wiped down and cleaned tabletops
“It’s alright, you've already cleaned up everything and I'm not that hungry, besides Bucky promised to show me around the Manor '' You reply, wiping a hand down to iron out the wrinkles in your work shirt.
“I did?” Bucky replies, and you turn your head, pleading with him to go along with it
“Oh yeah, um, I’ve got to get my Vitamin D you know” Bucky coughs, wincing as he digs his hands into his dress pants.
Kat looks between the both of you, a knowing smile on her face as she nods,
“Oh, I know you'll be here a while.'' She replies, before you both bid your goodbyes and head out through the French doors and onto the stone steps of the entryway of the Manor.
“You really made me lie in front of Kat? What do you think this is? You know I don’t answer to you, and Steve told me to make sure you eat something, especially since last night-” Bucky scolds, before cutting himself off at the mention of your embarrassing
“You know about last night?” You mumble, the burn of embarrassment crawls up your chest as Bucky shifts his gaze to you in guilt
“Parts alright? It was late at night when Steve found you at that bar and it was getting..I just knew I had never seen Steve so, so..” Bucky trails over, shifting his gaze from your eyes.
“So what?” You reply, Bucky was about to tell you something about Steve, specifically last night and every inch of you wanted to know what it was.
“Forget about it” Bucky replies, and you shake your head defiantly.
“No, no I won’t, ever since that day Steve walked into my diner, I’ve been doing this blindfolded dance, spinning around the truth but never being told anything” You reply, challenging Bucky.
Bucky pulls his tongue from his cheek, eyes trailing the manicured garden of the front lawn before looking down at you.
“He was silent. He didn’t say anything the entire ride back, just motionless. And I know Steve has that stone face going on, but honestly? It was like he was thinking, plotting something in that mind of his, and he didn't stop until you were taken to your room and tucked in, hell he didn't stop until we both walked into those office doors”.
You look down at your hands, twirling the old copper band around your index. Thinking? Thinking? You didn't have a clue how to read Steve, let alone know what he could be thinking of all things.
“What does that even mean?” You reply
“It means Steve is deeper in this than he thinks he is,” Bucky replies.
You catch your tongue before you reply with what automatically pops into your head,
If Steve was in this knee-deep, you were entirely swallowed.
Your eyes catch a light shining from the corner of your peripheral vision, over the wall overgrown with ivy.
“I wasn’t lying before,” You say
“Hmph?” Bucky asks, clocking his eyebrow
“Take me there” You reply, pointing towards the wall towards the back of the Manor.
“You mean the abandoned garden?” Bucky scoffs, shaking his head
“If it’s abandoned then no one will know we’re there, right?” You argue
Bucky narrows his eyes, but reluctantly agrees, walking down the steps in long strides as you run after him to catch up.
You both walk along the expansive gravel driveway, the piercing gaze of Steve from the office window above follows the both of you as you venture through the spiny trail that leads to the garden hidden beyond the large hanging evergreen trees that grew along all over the grounds.
Almost losing your balance once or twice, you finally make it through the overgrown foliage, following the stone trail that soon crumbled into the dark dirt floor. Bucky steps over a broken step, before unlatching some kind of bolt and shoving a rotten gate open, breaking the vines that had once grown on the wood.
You walk through the opened gate, Bucky following close behind, and the shrubbery opens up to a clearing. Large evergreen trees like the ones near the Manor surround the open land, however, a different kind of tree stands sky high, and you can’t stop yourself from walking up to one, and feeling the maroon bark rough against your fingers.
You close your eyes and it comes to you,
Redwood oaks.
Times when you would think hard enough, the silhouette of skyscraping trunks, and deep green leaves would cloud your vision, and when you lean your head forward you can almost smell your past. It is beautiful and strange and it hurts just as much. You can’t find yourself anymore, you've resigned yourself to that, but these thousand-year-old trees make you feel more connected than ever.
You want to climb into it and let it consume you. Sleep until you woke up and you knew who you were. It’s strange, the tree reminds you of Steve somehow, like you've been here with him before and it's hitting you like deja vu.
Something has gifted between the both of you, between you and Bucky too, you noticed it today when he spoke to you rather than through you. He didn't have that unsure expression anymore like he didn't fully trust you, and you don't know whether it was because of Steve or because of last night.
The clearing is almost a hill, and you can see fields of honey-coloured wheat and grass cascade into hills as you look beyond the tall trees. You can make out the backbones of where some sort of wooden shelter or structure once stood, now all that was left was a pile of rotting wood and leaves.
“Why is this place abandoned,” You say, it was gorgeous and let in the sun in just the right way for it to be reflected from the trees and shower the clearing with a honey glow, but it was hidden. And all hidden things were hidden for a reason.
“Don't know, it's been in Steve's family for generations, rented out to a couple people and then sold to a family in the mafia. Until Steve bought it back, it seems like this used to be where some sort of sheltered seating area once stood” Bucky replies, digging his shoe into the dirt.
“Yeah well it seems like someone’s put it to good use” You reply, noticing a small hardwood sculpting table fitted next to a workbench, a small but well-built wooden gazebo shelters the workspace, and you want to step forward but something tells you that place is sacred.
A sound comes out of Bucky and when you turn your head, he looks towards the gazebo like he knows who it belongs to. It hits you that he probably does, being the eyes that see all in the place anyway.
“This place yours or something?” You reply, and Bucky looks towards you in surprise like he forget you were there.
“Hmp? No, not me necessarily, but I think I know who” Bucky murmurs, his eyes trailing back to Manor fixating on Steve's office and you have to swallow the laugh that erupts at the assumption.
“Steve? If Steve was to have a hideout behind his Manor it would be for a guillotine, not an easel” You reply.  
You look towards the Manor and even though your vision only catches the pitched roof peeking through the dark pine trees you don’t doubt by the feeling crawling up your arm that Steve is watching you too.
“Steve, he's done something but, he's- he's a good man” Bucky replies, turning a rock onto its smooth side between his hands
“Oh yeah? Just like my husband is? I’m starting to figure out good men don’t need to say they're good men” You retort
Bucky shakes his head, turning the rock between his hands before tossing it into the shrubbery.
“You’re husband, he's done things you can't even imagine, he is the farthest from Steve, he's the farthest that Steve could ever be” Bucky replies with a heated tone.
For some reason that statement sent a burn down your stomach, in some sick way, you felt it was your responsibility to protect your husband's honour and name in front of Bucky, but it disappears when you realise you're the one who had run across the country to escape the very man Bucky loathes.
“I know the things he's done alright? I’m not that oblivious”
“I’m sure you aren't, Steve wouldn't go through all this trouble for someone who isn't..smart. But what you know about your husband is only what he's allowed you to see, in this life, there's so much that goes between looks and eyes,”
“Steve, it's this life that's changed him, changed all of us, swallowed him up until we couldn't even recognise each other. God I wish you could have seen him before, he was so carefree, ran like the wind couldn't even catch him. Your husband, evil like that is born in you, encoded into your DNA until you know nothing else" Bucky replies
“How do you expect me to believe that about him if you leave me in the dark all this time? You say Steve is a good man, well then tell me how” You reply
Bucky grinds his teeth, his jaw working as he weighs the metaphorical pros and cons of letting you in, and telling you things you he doesn't doubt Steve hasn’t. It was strange, Bucky felt it was wrong for you to be in this agreement with Steve so blindly, Steve had told him he wanted to protect you, but how can he say that when you don't even know what he's protecting you from?
With a gruff sigh, Bucky turns his neck to face you, delving into one of the main, if not the entire reason Steve is the way he is, and of course it had to be connected to you.
“About a decade or so ago, Steve was in love with a woman, she was everything to him, his breath, his bones, his love, she owned it all. Now it was about the time when Steve was ordained to take over from his father, it was a tradition since the Rogers planted their foot in the underworld, and it was once Steve's father did not take it lightly. Taking over meant your entire life would be dedicated to this throne, you would live, breathe and eat business, and for Steve, what he lived for was her.” Bucky shifts so that his gaze moves from the Manor. And like he's ashamed to be telling you this, to let the stark demeanour of Steve crack.
Bucky chuckles in the sort of way that wasn’t out of humour, your eyes strain as you peer at him, watching him scratch his jaw and tussle his brown locs free from their curls.
“Steve’s father could sense his weakness before it even started, I guess he thought Steve would realise what was at stake, the responsibilities that he had to honour as part of this family. That week before his coronation, Steve refused his father in front of an entire dining room of men. He refused to let go of her in exchange for his marriage to the throne. Told all of them that he was going to marry her and run off. And I still don't know if it was a show of discipline or plain evil, but Steve never got that chance” Bucky says.
“What do you mean?” You reply, your confused expression turning grim as you notice the bleak look on Bucky's face.
“She was- she was murdered that very next morning” Bucky replies, his eyes returning to you, as you whip your head back to stare at him in horror.
“Your husband, was paid by Steve’s father to murder his fiance” Bucky replies after a beat, your breath leaves your chest as you stare at him in disbelief, hands grasping the edges of your apron as you wait for the punchline, and Bucky stares at you in anguish as you realise there isn't.
You don't know what sounds leave your mouth, just the look of Bucky’s face tears you away from his gaze and the tears glide down your neck. You don’t bother to wipe them, you don't doubt there is more anguish to come, more revelations that will have your head spinning, more secrets that were kept from you.
“Hey, hey, look at me” Bucky replies
“I can’t, I didn’t tell you this for nothing alright? I can’t have you leaving here teary-eyed, you told me you were strong yeah? So be strong. Your husband is a murdering psychopath, he has been since he was a teenager, this mercenary job was done to get his foot in this business, and now you're all muddled up in it too. And Steve, he doesn’t want what happened to her to happen to you” Bucky replies, squeezing your arm to shake you back to the present.
“But why? Why would Steve’s father do that?” You reply
Bucky stares off into the curving hills of wheat and grass, shaking his head before replying
“It was Steve’s obligation, it had been since he was conceived, Steve's father thought he gave him a life free of responsibilities while growing up in that town, he didn't think that recklessness would follow him to Brooklyn”.
“Town? What town” You ask, and this time Bucky avoids your gaze, whispering incoherent obscenities under his breath
“That is something only Steve can tell you, me and Steve grew up together in Brooklyn during our teenage years. That place was something from before even that, before even me”. Bucky replies
You nod as you stare at the river that swirled across the Manor grounds, the shock of your husband's role in Steve’s becoming the invisible stone-faced don he was now didn't fully hit you yet. It was like you were numb, forced to put on a brave face in front of Bucky, who had trusted you enough to tell you about Steve.
Steve.
The man who you had believed conned his way into your life, and tricked you into a deal you didn't agree to now seemed different to you, you can’t fathom how a man like that, a man so instilled in the traditions of this world once defied it. Steve had once been so in love he was ready to disown his father's own expectations of him, and yet in the end it had gotten her killed, and it had left him seated on the very throne he despised.
“We should probably head back, lord knows what Steve would say if he knew you were still here” Bucky replies, pulling out a cigarette from his suit breast pocket, and flicking open a metallic silver lighter encrusted with the Rogers family heirloom.
The amber light that ignites the bud elicits a strange feeling that litters goosebumps across your body, it reminds you of a burning photograph, left to ashes and soot. You can smell the stench of it too, and Bucky watches you carefully as he clasps the lighter back into his pocket, nodding to the trail you had just come from.
Your mind is too preoccupied to remember walking back to the Manor, or even sliding into the car door Bucky had opened for you. Your mind circled back and forth between the answers Bucky had muttered under the sweet wisp of the morning breeze and the millions of questions that were met with the same silence and face of neutrality that Steve wore.
There was so much that you didn’t know, it hadn't hit you before, but it was so frighteningly obvious now. You were still the same foolishly naive girl that you had been 10 years ago, except this time, if Bucky had been right, you weren't being robbed of your entire autonomy.
You couldn't deny that since you had arrived in Brooklyn, you felt a strange pull that led you to Steve, you felt it the first time he walked into the diner, and although it was crowded by fear then, you can feel it in all its entirety now. For some strange reason, you hoped what Rumlow had said was just another thread of lies he had made you unravel, you hoped to god for Steve’s sake that all it was, was a childish attempt at getting out of babysitting.
You had steered your mind clear from falling down the rabbit hole of what else it could be, and the sinking feeling that begins to unfurl in your stomach now has you pinching yourself awake,  and forcing yourself to stare through the tinted car windows. You watch the blur of the pine trees crowding the curving roads and Bucky’s incessant tapping of the steering wheel over-stimulate your senses, resting your head on the window.
Perhaps Steve knew a thing or two about betrayal, and from the same man that had made you run halfway across the country.
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holylulusworld · 1 year
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Bedroom adventures (2)
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Summary: Now that you let Bucky take you home. What will happen?
Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x fem!Reader
Warnings: language, smut, unprotected sex, hand around throat, implied oral sex (fem rec), possessive Bucky
A/N: So, you all voted for Bucky and Mafia Bucky in my polls. Here we go with Mafia Bucky.
<< Part 1
Rooms masterlist
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You didn’t expect less than luxuriousness from Bucky’s bedroom. Not that you saw much of the interior of his luxury master bedroom.
You barely had the chance to get a good look at the black double bed standing in the room as Bucky was all over you again.
He runs his metal hand up and down your side, waking goosebumps on his wake.
“Fuck, this cunt is luring me in again,” he purrs against your skin. His lips travel up and down your belly, tongue teasing your belly button. 
His lips, those dangerous but soft pillows work their way up your body until he can wrap them around one nipple.
“Bucky.”
“Say my name,” he purrs against your plush flesh. “It sounds like a melody to me when you say my name.”
You watch Bucky slowly crawl up your body to roughly claim your mouth. All tongue and teeth, but gentler than at the bathroom stall. He’s a bit softer now, less rough. A stark contrast to the raging hard-on he’s pressing against your thigh.
Bucky is like a man possessed when it comes to you, or rather your pussy. He spent the better part of an hour with his face between your legs. Now your legs feel like jelly and your poor clit is still drumming.
All you are capable of at this moment is to watch the gorgeous man you just met settle between your legs. “She didn’t do a thing,” you purr as you rake your nails over his chest to leave your marks on him too. “But if you think she’s guilty, punish her, Sir.”
He kneels between your spread legs. Bucky runs his hands over your trembling thighs. He just admires your naked body for a moment. Bucky smirks as you shudder under his gaze.  
“I will so punish your naughty cunt,” he grunts as his hand shoots toward your throat. You gasp as his metal fingers curl around your neck. “Don’t be scared, doll.”
He smirks as he tightens your hold on your neck. That fucker enjoys you look up at him with wide eyes. “I won’t hurt you, baby doll,” he softly presses his lips to yours. “Only if you ask me to do so.”
“B-ucky,” you breathlessly moan. “Please.”
“Don’t you want me to fuck you, doll?” he still hasn’t asked for your name, though. Maybe he doesn’t want to get too…intimate with you. “Say what you want.”
“Please fuck me,” you whimper against his lips. “Please, Sir.”
“You will always get what you want,” Bucky makes a promise he intends to keep. “Name it, and it’s yours.”
“Right now,” pursing your lips you look Bucky up and down. Your eyes land on his prominent erection and it’s all you can think about, “I want your dick. It looks ready to go, Sir.”
“Fasten your seat belts,” you laugh at his playful tone. “Come and get some, baby doll.”
“Come and get some,” you challenge as he hovers over you to brush his lips over yours. He wiggles his hips to nudge at your entrance. “Fuck me like it’s the last time you can fuck a woman.”
“Don’t tempt me, doll,” Bucky snaps his hips forward to split you open again. He groans as your velvet walls welcome him home. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
He holds himself on his forearms and presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply. 
“You’re a smooth talker, huh?” 
Bucky takes his time. 
He rocks his hips slowly, to drag his thick cock against your walls. You’re already on the edge, close to soaking his sheets when he grips your chin with his metal hand.
The one you will ask him about later. If you get the chance. You don’t know if he will send you home after he fucked you again.
“Look at me,” he groans. “Don’t look away. I want you to watch me fuck you…” 
You watch him. 
You claw at his back when you fall apart.
You cry his name.
You fall asleep in his arms.
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“I need to get up and go to work,” you yawn as the first rays of light fall on your face. “Bucky, did you hear me?” 
You wiggle in his arms.
“Just a little longer,” he wraps his arms even tighter around your body. “Or the rest of the week.” Bucky purrs in your ear. “You promised to spend the rest of the week with me.”
“You were serious?” 
He chuckles in your neck. “Yes. I was serious, doll. Now, will you stay?”
“If I lose my job…you’ll get me a new one. Right? A better one…”
“Promised.”
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“Listen, she won’t be coming back to work for you,” Bucky barks into the phone. “If you bug her ever again, I’ll pay you a visit.”
“What are you doing, Buck?” Steve watches his friend and partner angrily yell at someone. “Buck?”
Bucky hands up the phone before he looks at his friend. “Her boss called. I made sure he knows my girl won’t come back.”
“She won’t like this one bit, Buck.”
“He’s an asshole. You know that,” Bucky mutters. “I only try to protect her. Tucker likes to grope the women working for him. I won’t let him do this to her.”
“You just met that woman,” Steve sighs deeply as Bucky walks toward the kitchen. “Why did you call me again?”
“I need you to find out everything about her.”
“Why don’t you ask her?”
“I want to do this right. We met just two days ago but we clicked. She’s the one,” Bucky smirks. “I just know it. Help me here.”
“Do you at least know her name?”
“Y/N,” the mobster tuts. “A beautiful name…isn’t it?”
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Tags in reblog.
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alexsmirrorball · 2 years
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Cheack out my work if you're interested🧡
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