#//The fam got a new puppy (he's a menace and I love him) but he's only a little over two months old. So he's a troublemaking handful.

[kingspuppet]

Life's been a little hectic so being on here has taken a major backseat. :') Sorry for those that are waiting on things (IC and OOC). My activity is probably gonna continue to be super sporadic and random for a bit. So thanks everyone for being super patient with me. 🩵

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

The Bad Guy (2)

Bucky x fem!Reader

The Fallen Soldier

Theme: It’s a good day in New York City for Bucky Barnes, who seems to feel right at home till his morning is disrupted by a bad guy. Maybe New York isn’t the same place after all. Now he has teamed up with the Bad Guy to fight the good fight. But this Bad Guy is bringing things on his surface he never knew he had

Chapter warnings: swearing. so much swearing. dumb assholes.

A/N: @writing-prompt-s​  once gave a prompt last year that stuck with me…I don’t remember the exact wordings but it had something to do with the reader/writer being the villain having a crush on the hero, always finding excuses (or crimes) to meet them. One day they are getting their ass beat and you decide to jump in and save the day. This one is same but with a liiiiiiiitle twist

Word Count: I get one good day and look at me taking out a chapter after another. What is the reason behind this good mood? Spending time with fam? Posting ITA? Them sexy sexy reactions? Good sleep? Meds? Maybe all of them!!

MASTERLIST in bio, love. Tags are open

The mansion up the hill overlooking those city lights was packed with people in their expensive swimwear right and left. Butts were swinging to loud beats, crystal glasses filled with alcohol and unwanted drugs clinked around the six thousand square feet of area. Skinny babes and naked dudes smoked and snorted by the pool while some made out in the pool, around the tennis court upstairs in the balcony; basically any place they could find. Guards stood by the openings in the front and back- well, definitely away from the booze-redden crowd running horny for those black-clad abs and standing there in silence and sharp observation- making sure no intruders or unwanted objects entered the place.

People coming in and wobbling out threw greetings at a slick-looking man sitting on the rooftop making some colourful drinks with the drugs in a sophisticated palette kept on a clear glass coffee table right next to where the multiple not!y/h/c girls- five to be specific- sat surrounding him. None of these ladies looked above twenty-five. But everyone looked like they were all up over that golden-haired broad jaw guy- who could have a name like Chad or Hunter- just for the pills.

“Looky here chicks,” his deep voice with a crustiness to it announced with the cocktail glasses raised for his company to take, “this is how you get to feel a new high. One of these and you will have the night of your life. Uh...scratch that, the second-best night of your life because later on, I’m going to fuck each one of you raw.”

The women hooted while forcing to keep those smiles when he looked away, clearly uncomfortable with that man. One of them was trying her best not to sneeze from all that heavy cologne he was wearing.

“How long do we have to do this Katie? I better be paid well for this,” the not!y/h/c sitting at the other end whispered to her girlfriend.

“I don’t know Samantha,” Katie muttered through her teeth that were all smiles for the man, “just keep going till he tires himself out.”

“Ugh, I have to submit my thesis tomorrow. I hate this guy! Fucking him was not a part of our deal. I wanna go home before I kill this man!” she grunted to her teeth before doing a one-eighty on her expression when he raised his glass at her and winked with his tongue out and wiggling. Samantha wanted to cry but she kept telling herself she was doing it for her tuition fee.

Downstairs, in the driveway, a woman dressed in a golden shimmy dress under a chinchilla fur overcoat and Impera Louboutin walked towards the entrance. Her red acrylic nails played with her hair while the other handheld an LV bag. Those cat-like movements stopped only when the bodyguards stopped her at the door. “Identification,” the grey-eyed Caucasian questioned.

This not!y/h/c wore red-rimmed groupie shades tinted black even in the night. Her lips red, and so were those huge danglers that clinked whenever her head moved or even tilted. She peeked over her shades at the boys and their toys stopping her from going in. The boys saw golden lenses checking them out and waited patiently for her to say something.

Sighing, she raised her bag and gestured the men to look into it.

The boys looked at the bag and then each other. “What’s in it?”

She dropped her head back and groaned lightly. “My identification,” she answered, almost singing it like a stereotypical white teen tired of the drama surrounding her.

The boys opened the zip and raised their brows at the stuff they saw inside. Leather whip, handcuffs, feather, candles, cable ties, ropes, anal beads and strap ons.

Trying to keep a straight face, they zipped the bag back up and handed it back to her before opening the door. “He’s on the rooftop.”

The woman smirked with those wet red lips at them. While walking in with those swishing hips, she grazed that bulge in the pants of the one standing to her right, making him flinch before going back to his position- but not without a smile on that seemingly uncrackable face.

The woman’s smile disappeared the moment she entered the room, her lips turning into the hues of disgust till she found a glass tumbler filled with scotch and dunked her hand in it till she was sure she had got everything off. Wiping it clean with a napkin, she moved through the crowd of stoned youngsters roaming about half-naked, dancing to Sasha Sloan’s ‘At Least I Look Cool’. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey from next to two girls making out in the kitchen, she walked out towards the poolside, howling like a wolf to blend in. Within no time, everyone else there howled like her, getting more into the spirit.

“Haha..oh you all are such fucked up dolts,” she muttered under her breath, dancing her way to the stairs leading to the rooftop.

The wind was adding to the pep in her steps, her skin loving the cold waves over all that makeup. There were two guards standing as security at two ends, looking down at the party. Rest of the crowd was those college girls dressed as elite strippers trying to hog the man’s attention as much as they. All except Katie.

“Ooh, what do we have here,” the man whistled at the woman entering the scene with the sexy saunter.

“Hi Hunter,” she sang in a low, almost sweet poison laden voice, keeping the bag down on the coffee table, “I’m your birthday present. From your best bud.”

The fur coat was dropped down to reveal the gold sequin dress held tight around her with only two thin straps going around her shoulder. All eyes went to the smooth hairless baby-like skin shining under those dim lights around them. Tattoos covered the arms and the back- intricate works inked in black, some phrases etched in Kanji on one arm while some not so popular gangster signs on the other. The back seemed to carry the face of some strange creatures along with Kanji scripting the borders.

The shades were thrown away to reveal her face to Hunter, who was already feeling the tightness in his pants. “So, Hunter-” she opened the bag to take out the rope, making that bad boy’s pupil dilate in excitement- “what’s it gonna be. Full public display or a private show?”

“Everybody out!” He was already shouting, flailing hands at security to walk away. “What the fuck you lookin’ at,” he yelled at the girls, making them jump and scrammed.

“Oh thank God,” Katie said under her breath.

“You’re welcome,” the woman threw in her direction, making Katie feel her lungs tighten at the suggestive wink she got from her before she ran down the stairs.

Hunter jumped up and down the couch in anticipation, grunting at the woman. “Come on, you crazy bitch. Come to daddy.”

The women smirked at Hunter, walking across the table to close the distance between the two of them, opening the cork to the whiskey with her teeth and spitting it away somewhere in the dark. “Open your mouth,” she ordered.

A slap echoed through the air when he didn’t obey. His grunts of pleasure followed next and before you know it, he was looking up at her like a needy puppy. The whiskey went down his tongue, burning his tongue and throat till he had to shut his mouth and spill it out.

“Open up!”

And he did. Again. Once she was satisfied, she threw the bottle away. Some sort of ruckus could be heard downstairs but Hunter didn’t care. His guys could handle it.

The rope came next. Wrapped around his neck and gradually tied securely with a knot. The excitement in Hunter’s pants was already showing. The more she tightened the rope, the more he shivered with pleasure.

“You have been very naughty, Hunter. Very, very naughty.”

Hunter nodded in submission. “Yes. Oh God, yes. I have been so naughty. Punish me, you cunt. Slap the bad outta me,” he growled.

She yanked the rope towards herself, nearly making him fall on the concrete floor. “Follow me on your fours, you bad dog.”

And he did. His hands and knees were scraped by the rugged tiles underneath but he did not care. Soon both of them were at the edge, the glass railing looking down at the lit-up pool.

“Get on the other side of the glass,” she commanded.

“What?”

Even with those golden lenses that were clearly fake, she looked menacing. Without uttering another word- to not get on her bad side because she had his balls in her hands- Hunter pulled up his leg to move on the other side, right on the edge.

“Good boy,” she purred and lifted a corner of her lip. Wrapping the rope around her arm, she got out of her Louboutins, feeling a lot more relaxed than before. “Now,” she sighed while cracking the knots in her neck, “let’s get started.”

Hunter never saw her foot coming to kick him right in his gut, pushing him back, nearly making him miss his footing, his instincts grabbing at the rope within seconds while a high pitched scream left his lungs that got mistaken for another howl wave downstairs.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He yelled at her. Unfortunately for him, no one downstairs could listen to his cries over the loud music reverberating throughout the house. The security was nowhere to be seen downstairs. Just a bunch of drunk bastards enjoying the booze and drugs.

“Where’s your boss?” she asked with a dead expression. No emotions reached her eyes as she held Hunter’s life in her hand her one foot resting on the glass while she watched the man cry tears of desperation.

“Where. Is. Your. Boss?”

“I ain’t telling you shi-”

Her fingers loosened the hold on the rope, making him scream and cry huge tears. “HE’S COMING TO TOWN THIS THURSDAY. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON’T LET ME FALL. PLEASE I’LL GIVE YOU MONEY. I’LL GIVE YOU DRUGS. DON’T LET ME FALL OH MY GOD!!!”

“How many girls did you sell in your life, Hunter?”

He shook his head, hanging onto the roop around his neck with his dear life. “No, please no,” he whimpered repeatedly to the point all you could hear were squeals. After some time they were gone too.

“How many?”

“I...I *hic* I didn’t c-count af-after three hundred. I’m sorry. Please let me go.”

“Hmm,” she twitched her jaw while wrapping the rope around her arm again, reducing the distancing between them.

Hunter seemed to find his breaths back, his face swollen with all the crying and yelling. “Was your boss gonna buy the painting that was supposed to be stolen from the gallery?”

Hunter nodded. Those damn tears still didn’t stop. But now the tears were not the only thing leaking from his body.

“Do you know what I hate more than my periods?”

He didn’t ask. He was just trying not to puke his guts out.

“I hate the scums who get rich off other’s bodies. Do you know who that includes? Hmm? You do? You.”

The punch landed on his throat and the rope was dropped. Like a theatrical representation of Adagio for Violin and Orchestra in E major by Mozart, Hunter kept falling down, his hands still flailing in the air to catch hold of something, anything while she looked at the view till she was sure he was down in the pool, splashing the water everywhere. People hurled cheers and salutes while that man tried to catch hold of his senses for his life. She turned away, picked up her shoes, her fur, and her bag, and walked towards the open fireplace to dump the latter into the fire pit. The fire ate it up like a beast hungry for more. Walking away, she jumped over the railing to land on the edge of the estate, strutting straight into the forest barefoot, not stopping till a familiar SUV was visible at the road down the hill amongst multiple high-end cars parked in front of the mansion. The lights turned on the moment she came into view. The door was unlocked for her to climb in and sit in the front on the passenger side.

A security personnel ran by the car. “Hunter’s been attacked! Some bitch threw him off the roof. Code blue! Code blue! Everybody on the grounds now!” his walkie talkie crackled as he ran towards the mansion.

“This is NOT how we’re supposed to work!”

The street lights revealed the new handsome face and those black luscious hair on the driver’s side. Those blue eyes were clearly not impressed by your work, those hands already working around the wheel to make the engine come to life and get the hell out of here.

James Buchanan Barnes rode the car out like nobody’s business in the darkness of the night with one incredible ‘bitch who killed a man from the mafia’.

“Yeah, I brought my stealth suit for nothing,” Scott called out from the back.

The smile on those red lips broadened. With a yank of the hands, the luscious curls came off- revealing them to be a wig all this time- exposing the one who carried out the information extraction.

It was you. You were the ‘bitch’.

The lenses came off too. So did the acrylics.

“I’m just getting started, my darlings,” you stated.

“You should not have gone in alone. And what was this, a disguise?” He asked, pointed at everything that was not you.

“This, my guy-” you peeled off the false nose and cheek paddings- “was my way of cheating face recognition. You should try it sometimes too, Sergeant Barnes. You could’ve really used it when you killed those important faces in New York.”

Bucky was left speechless at the reveal. “Oh sweetheart, I do my homework. Just ‘cause I’m not on the other side with those so-called heroes I won’t do my research?”

“You must’ve been quite the college student,” Scott quipped.

“Top ten of my class,” you acknowledged, doing a hi-five with him without looking.

“I have to say, Barnes, I am disappointed that I didn’t get to see the Winter Soldier. Maybe on our next mission?”

Bucky could see from the corner of his eyes your tongue licking your lips in anticipation while checking him out without any filter. He could feel his hands tighten on the steering wheel. That gaze did something to him. Every. Single. Time.

“The Winter Soldier’s dead,” he commented, “along with all the evil he did,”

“Hmm,” you pouted, looking ahead at the road, “too bad. Would’ve have loved to take him on a ride. Summer in the streets-” you clicked your tongue- “winter in the sheets.”

“...I’m gonna put my earphones on,” Scott muttered and slid into his seat, away from whatever was going on between the two of you.

Bucky adjusted himself where he sat. “Wh-ahem- what are those tattoos on your...uhh skin?”

“Oh, these?” you were easily distracted, “these are just temporary inks. This one is my favourite opening from the anime Naruto. This is the name of the guy I had a crush on from the same anime. On my back are names of all the fav characters from One Piece with what I think is their Patronus.”

Silence.

She is a nerd. Bucky’s inner voice whacked him in the head. Speak for yourself, number one fan of Captain America.

“Now back to you,” you continued, “Mr back from the dead and evil.”

Come, on Buck! You are a ladies man! You should be all up in her business by now. What is wrong with you?!

“It’s okay,” your voice broke his anxious thoughts, “we won’t do anything against your will. I’m all for consent.”

You rested your cheek on the headrest while continuing to stare at him. “There is nothing sexier than having permission to do all the things you want me to do,” you declared softly.

And just like the teasing notes of the violin, the former winter soldier felt himself falling for the villain once again.