#mob boss nat!
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Tough looking Mob Boss Nat, Innocent looking Wanda in public...
But in private it's Subby mob boss Nat and Dom emo wanda hmmm.. just putting it out there 🏃🏻♀️💨
#weird combo but Okay#mob boss x bunny#trope#emo!wanda#mob boss!nat#natasha alianovna romanova#natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff#marvel#wandanat
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Protective mob boss wandanat mood board?
<3 mob boss wandanat <3
#moodboards!#wandanat#wanda x natasha#wanda x nat x reader#ilovewandanat#asks#witchy answers#letterbox 💌#mob boss!wandanat
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I MUST know about “burn towns get money”
HIIII! TY straight up? i forgot anyone might recognize this as a fantasy high reference sorry!!! this is not that!! the song is just constantly stuck in my head
it's actually just the whole world that holds the gta au ... you know, the au where sam gets caught up in the web of the infamous and deadly black widow via her right hand man, bucky! yeah, the chaotic one im obsessed with!!
what else to say about it at this point.. this wip specifically is all the other non-sam povs that have come out of my obsession with this little world.. so, nat & bucky bickering.. sam & scott's crew being lovable morons.. samriley flashbacks.. etcetera talking about wips!
#there's also... sooo much samscott..... i was reaaalllyyyyy... they were my song of the summer..#also i guess i should just call it a mob au...#calling nat a mob boss just feels insufficient is all#thanks for the ask!<3
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Mob!Nat will degrade her brat in front of her employees without remorse but if one of those employees dare to join in? 🔫🔫 No more employee
real
(with exceptions)
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Agent
© thewidowsledger 2025 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE
Pairings: Undercover Agent!Natasha Romanoff x Mob boss!Female Reader
Word count: 693
Tags | Warnings: None, is the sexual tension in the room with us (?)
Author's Note: This is not a fic, more like a drabble👉👈 I hate how so many good ideas are running in my mind when I am heart broken, so just let me spoil y'all as long as I can :))
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"Go home, get some rest."
Natasha lingers by the doorway, shifting uncomfortably. Her eyes darted around the room, and her clasped hands fidget behind her back.
"Nat." You called.
She sighs, leaning against the doorframe and stealing a glance out the window.
"Natasha." You called again, much firmer this time.
Ah, she's in shit now. She knows damn well she's in deep trouble when she hears her full name being used especially by you. "Sorry, boss, guess I'm…distracted."
"That much is obvious." You offer a brief smile from your desk, but it fades just as quickly. "What's wrong, Natasha?"
Oh well, the list goes on and on. Where to begin? First, she's an undercover agent walking a tightrope, knowing her bosses are ready to pull the plug on the operation. Second, she's not a very good agent, since she became too attached to her target, the woman she's been guarding for six months. Lastly, she's an agent, and she's wondering if she should be.
Not that the answer is to join organised crime, either. But she's probably not as…objective as she used to be.
"I'm not sure about tomorrow," she finally admits. She doesn't like lying to you.
"What makes you unsure?"
Tomorrow looms large. The brass is forcing her hand. Natasha already delayed delivering you to them three times, and tomorrow, in the middle of your biggest land trade in years, her fellow agents are going to storm the place. There will be chaos, and you're likely to get caught in the crossfire. And despite her divided loyalties, she knows she'll put her life on the line to protect you. Whether they will question her credibility if she's a traitor or not.
Well all because she's just the agent who fell for her target—the Romeo of the operation. She just hopes that the story doesn't end in tragedy.
"Are we sure the meeting place is secured?"
"You went with Bucky to secure it, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but—"
"You're nervous," you interrupt smoothly. Your smile is as polished as your satin night dress and the faint, fabricated English accent you wear like armor. Natasha knows it's a front—like her own.
"Can't help it," she shrugs, feigning nonchalance. Your heels click on the floor. The sound haunts her in her dreams.
"I know you can't." You almost sound like you're soothing her. "But try not to let it cloud your judgement."
She nods, brushing a speck off her jacket. It's the best she's ever dressed in her life, all thanks to you. Steve loves to tease her about it, especially the set of black shirt she's never ran out.
You blink as she catches your hand before you can pull away from her completely. "Natasha."
"You," she begins, breaking the strict rule against using names—real or fake—in the office. But you had told her your name yourself, and it's been etched into her mind ever since, like a treasure on a pedestal. "Just…think about tomorrow again."
She meets your gaze, both faces unreadable. Natasha's mastery of concealing emotions comes from years of training, while yours seems effortless. "You're concerned about me?"
She inhales, squeezing your hand tighter. Finally free to tell the truth, she says, "your safety is my top priority."
Something changes in those eyes of yours, but she can't quite tell what it is.
Natasha blinks as you lean in, pressing a light yet deliberate kiss to her cheek. She fights to keep her composure, knowing that you, the boss, rarely shows affection—mercy even less so. But her focus is entirely on calming the storm of butterflies in her stomach.
Oh idiot Romeo, indeed.
You lock eyes with her, your hand steady on her cheek. "We'll be fine," you say with unwavering confidence.
She holds your gaze, resisting the urge to hope for another kiss. Slowly, she lets go of your hand. "If you say so, boss."
You arch a brow. "Back to boss, is it?"
She felt a smirk but more like a smile tug at her lips. "Would you rather I call you something else?"
"Hm, mommy sounds good or perhaps mistress..." A sly smirk crept in your face. Then your hand glides down her chest, skimming over her leather jacket until it rests on the concealed weapon at her belt.
"You tell me, agent."
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff au#black widow
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Beloved Mine
Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)
Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x F!Reader
Summary: Sam sends out an SOS that Bucky isn't in the best mood, so you see him to ease his mind.
Sammy: SOS. he's in a bad mood!
You read over Sam's text and snort. You quickly type out a reply and start to change from your pjs to some appropriate clothing.
On your way to Bucky's, you stopped by his favorite bakery, grabbing his favorite baked goods as well as a wide variety for his people. You also grabbed him a coffee and a drink for you as well.
Sammy: He almost shot the new guy in the foot. Please tell me you're on your way.
You: ETA 10 minutes.
Sammy: THANK GOD.
You giggle and continue to drive to Bucky's family mansion. At the gate, the security guard takes one look at you and immediately lets you in. You give him a pastry in gratitude before driving up the long gravel driveway.
You park beside Sam's car and hop out. The man at the door nods at you, opening the door wide for you to step in. You also hand him a pastry with a smile.
You head towards the back of the house where you hear a familiar, loud distant voice.
The closer you get, the louder the voice. You push through some of the men spilling out of the room until you're inside.
"-HOW MANY FUCKING MEN DO I GOTTA LOSE TO-honey?"
All eyes land to you. You give a sheepish wave, "Hi, sorry, is this a bad time?" You know it is but you feign ignorance.
Bucky sighs, running his hand through his brunette locks, "Just finishing up a meeting."
"Oh, I can wait-"
"No, no. It's fine. Think they all had enough of my shouting," he waves his hand, "Leave, you fuckers!" most of the people scurry out in an instant, not wanting to wait and see if Bucky changes his mind. A small group stay behind, Bucky's closest friends and confidants: Sam, Joaquin, Yelena, and Nat.
You approach them, setting yours and Bucky's drinks in front of him. You open the pastry box in your hands and hold it out to the four, "Take your pick!"
"You're Heaven sent!" Sam exclaims as he grabs a donut and shoots you a wink. You give him a smirk and a nod.
Joaquin grabs a danish, practically stuffing the entire thing in his mouth.
"Did you eat today, Joaquin?"
He shakes his head as he continues to chew the danish. You lift the box higher, "Take as much as you want."
He gives you a grin as he grabs two more pastries and follows Sam out the door.
"Ladies?"
"I'm good," Nat says with a shake of her head in decline.
"Hell yeah, donuts!" Yelena exclaims as she grabs the glazed twists. She hums in delight as she takes a bite, "Thanks, Y/N!"
You chuckle, "You're welcome, Lena."
The two women look to Bucky to see if he needed anything else. Bucky sips his coffee and waves them off and the two file out the door, closing it behind them.
You turn back to Bucky, "Yours are at the bottom," you place the pastry box in front of him.
Bucky's eyes narrow at you, a hint of a smirk on his lips, "Who called you?"
"No one called me."
"So if I check your phone-"
"Technically, Sam texted me. He didn't call me."
Bucky scoffs and shakes his head, "Of course he did."
You walk over to the other side of his desk. He leans back in his chair and you sit on his arm rest, "Bad day?" You begin to run your fingers through his hair and he leans into your touch with a sigh, "Another shipment got intercepted. We lost some guys."
"'M sorry, baby."
"I'm getting real fucking tired of Hydra. And none of my people can find shit out! Anytime they snag one of their guys, they kill themselves before we get any answers. Fucking cowards."
You wrap your arms around Bucky's bulking frame, "You'll figure it out. You always do. Besides, I'm sure Lena and Nat have something cooking, right?"
"Supposedly, but they won't tell me what yet. They're trying to iron out the details."
"Just let them handle it in the meantime. Now, how about a treat?" you grab one of the pastries that you know he loves and he takes a bite. He moans at the taste and his shoulders drop in relief.
He washes it down with his coffee and he looks at you with shining blue eyes, "You really know how to make a guy feel loved, honey."
You giggle, and wipe some crumbs off his chubby cheeks, "Well, duh, I do love you," you peck his lips, "Ease up on everyone, will ya? I know things are tense, but they're all doing the best they can. You can't afford to lose more people."
He slowly nods, "You're right. Fuck, you know, maybe you should step down and take over, hm?"
You throw your head back and laugh, "Oh, please, I'd run your family into the ground! No one would listen to me-"
"Baby, a majority of my people listen to you already."
"...I don't know how to lead people or how the inner workings of all this," you gesture around you, "goes."
Bucky shrugs, "I can teach you. Besides," he takes your left hand, thumb grazing over the diamond ring on your finger, "you should start learning some things anyway."
"Let me just live in ignorant bliss until after the wedding, Barnes," you pat his plump cheeks and he grins at you, eyes soft and full of love.
#bucky x reader#chubby!bucky#bucky barnes x reader#bucky imagine#bucky barnes imagine#mob boss au#mob au#mafia au#marvel au
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Do You Trust Me?
Mob!Boss Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Word count: 1.1K
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Gunplay (unloaded weapon but reader is unaware), Knifeplay (blade against skin, no injury), Power dynamics and control, Consensual kink involving fear play, Explicit sexual content, Mob violence references
Authors notes: Mob Boss!Nat having the darkest kinks but being so soft with you is my new kink
You knew what you were getting into when you fell for the infamous Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff. The recently appointed head of the Russian Mob.
She showed up at the bar you work at and started flirting. You knew who she was; of course you did. Everyone knew the Empire that Alexi Shostakov built and his two adopted daughters that would take over.
You let her schmooze you up. She kept insisting on being at the bar, keeping her eye on you, talking to you about everything and nothing. She made the shifts fly by and walked you home when you insisted on walking instead of letting her drive you home at 3am.
You never felt scared with her; she always made you feel safe. When she asked you out the first time you actually laughed in her face. The guys at the bar paled as you laughed at the deadliest woman probably in the country.
“Oh you're serious Tasha.” You realize as she just stares at you and you see a hint of hurt in her eyes. You reach out, gently cupping a cheek of hers, brushing your thumb across her smooth, cool, pale skin. “I didn't mean to laugh. I thought it was a joke.”
“Why would I joke about that?” her brows furrowing together and you can tell she wants to pout.
“I'm sorry. I'd love to go on a date with you Tasha.” You feel butterflies in your stomach as she smiles with her perfect teeth and those green eyes that remind you of the perfect spring day in a meadow. Her eyes always calmed you, they were reassuring in a way that the outside appearance of Mob Boss was just that and there was more to her than what she showed the world. This was something only for you.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Tasha loved fucking you in missionary. Her reasoning was that she,
“Fuck I love that fucked out look detka. All because of me?”
She'd always say it. It was like she needed to before she was filling you up. Your eyes rolling back only makes her keep going.
Then one day when you think it's going to be the same thing she stops and pulls back.
“Y/N, I'd like to try something…well it's something I like, but it's pretty intense so if you say no it's totally fine.” she seems nervous and you reach out to reassure her.
You looked into her eyes, searching for what was making her uneasy. The glint in her eyes was more than just the lust you were used to seeing. It was something darker. More raw. You stroked her cheek, your hand steadying her. “Tell me what it is, Tasha. We can try it. You know I trust you.”
Her hesitation melted as your words sank in. With a breath, she nodded, then leaned down to kiss you again, but this time it was more forceful. More demanding. As her hand reached beside her, you felt something cool press against the side of your neck. A shiver ran down your spine as the sensation registered—metal, sharp but careful.
A blade.
Your breath caught, and instinct told you to pull back, to question, but the wave of arousal that followed overwhelmed any fear. Natasha’s cock pressed against your entrance, sliding in smoothly as her weight settled over you. The blade remained at your throat, just a whisper away from breaking the skin, but somehow it made you feel more alive, more connected to her than ever before.
“Is this okay, detka?” Natasha’s voice was low, vibrating with need, her eyes dark and hooded as she watched for any sign of discomfort.
You nodded, feeling a flood of arousal at the danger of it all. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, Tasha.”
She grinned, her lips brushing against your ear. “You’re so fucking perfect for me,” she murmured as she began to move, her thrusts slow and deliberate, letting the blade tease against your skin. “All of this—just for me.”
Her words sent you spiraling. She controlled everything about this moment—the pleasure, the danger, and you loved her even more for it.
Natasha’s thrusts slowed, her eyes locking onto yours with that same dangerous glint. You were completely wrapped in her presence, your body surrendering to the way she claimed you with every movement. But then, without warning, she shifted again.
You felt the blade lift from your throat, and for a moment, relief washed over you—but only for a second. The cold, hard sensation of metal returned, but this time, it wasn’t a blade. It was heavier. Solid.
A gun.
Your breath caught as Natasha pressed the barrel against the side of your head, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she leaned down to whisper in your ear.
"Don’t move," she said softly, her voice low, seductive, and filled with something dark that you had never heard before. "Unless you want to find out what happens."
A shiver ran down your spine as your body clenched around her, the fear mixing with arousal in a way you couldn’t explain. You were fully aware of who Natasha was, what she was capable of. And yet, you trusted her. Completely.
But right now, that trust felt like a game—a dangerous, thrilling game where she held all the cards.
“I don’t want to hurt you, detka," Natasha murmured, her hand firm around the grip of the gun as she slowly slid deeper inside of you. "But you’re going to be such a good girl for me, aren’t you?"
You whimpered, your body arching beneath her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. The weight of the gun against your temple felt like a warning, like a challenge, and even though your logical mind screamed that this was insane, your body betrayed you. You were turned on—desperately so.
"That's it, baby. Stay still," Natasha breathed, her thrusts picking up pace. Her forest green eyes bored into yours, filled with raw hunger and something darker. "Fuck, you feel so good."
The gun didn’t waver, staying pressed against your head as Natasha drove deeper into you. Her free hand gripped your thigh, holding you in place as she pushed you further into the mattress. The mixture of pleasure, danger, and control swirled in the air, intoxicating you both.
"Do you feel that?" Natasha’s voice was a breathless growl now, her hips snapping into you harder. "Knowing that I could end it all right now, but I won’t. You trust me with everything, don’t you?"
"Yes," you gasped, your voice trembling with pleasure, fear, and need all at once.
The truth was, you did. You trusted her with your body, your life, and your heart. Even now, with a gun pressed to your temple and her cock driving you toward the edge, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. She owned you in every way.
What you didn’t know was that the gun wasn’t even loaded. But Natasha didn’t tell you that. She liked the way you looked at her, the way your body trembled, caught between fear and pleasure.
She liked owning you completely.
#ley writes#ley writes one shots#leys kinktober writing#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x female#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x y/n#mob boss!natasha romanoff#mob boss!natasha#fem reader#fem!reader
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Knock You Down
Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. But when he meets you, he finds out that sometimes love comes around, and it knocks you down.
Word count: less than 2K
Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: This fic was in part inspired by Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run 🫠, and partially inspired by an old song by some problematic people, lol. This is the result. As usual, I am Basil Exposition, so this is broken into parts. Part II is already in the queue and will be posted on Friday, 10/11.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, Bucky the player, wild thoughts, kisses on the hand and the cheek. No sex!
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
-----
"Won't see it coming when it happens. But when it happens you're gonna feel it, let me tell you now."
Bucky always scoffed at Steve’s advice. He and Sam never understood his solitary bachelorhood and his one night stand lifestyle.
The truth was, he hadn’t met anyone who held his interest enough to warrant a second date, much less anything beyond one casual hookup. So, he never made promises that he couldn’t keep, and most women said they were down for that.
Even if they were lying to themselves.
At 42, James Buchanan Barnes was too dedicated to his business, ostensibly as an art dealer, for a serious relationship. The truth was that he dealt in many things, and that was why his business needed so much attention.
His life and everyone’s around him depended on it.
Bucky Barnes wasn’t going to get caught slipping.
In love or in business.
—---
The first time you met James Buchanan Barnes, on what you thought would be a random Monday afternoon, he appraised you in a way that shook you to the core, those ocean blue eyes looking into your soul. You felt as if he were evaluating a piece of art as he gazed at you across his desk.
You couldn’t know that he felt the exact same way.
His eyes never strayed from your face as he shook your hand, but he’d noticed every bit of you as you entered his gallery, Rebirth. You were more stunning than any piece of art that he’d ever curated in the space.
While nothing like his normal type, you made Bucky feel as if he’d been so wrong about so much in his life the moment you entered his orbit. He had to get to know you to find what he’d been missing.
This afternoon you were a sight to behold and serving body. Although you were covered from neck to shin in an elegant sheath dress, the high, wrapped waist was giving all of your bounteous curves up to whoever glanced at you. And you had heads turning.
Steve, Sam, and even Natasha craned their necks to watch you as you entered Bucky’s office. And he could have sworn that Nat’s neck was at a 90 degree angle as she watched you leave her desk just outside his door.
You were fine as hell.
Bucky was entranced by dreams of handling your curves and making you smile at him forever.
As Bucky dreamed, you admired the man in front of you. Tall, dark, and handsome, Barnes wasn’t a young man, but the gray in his beard and the crinkles around his eyes made him that much more attractive.
Even more attractive than in the paparazzi pics of him with various young models and actresses of the moment, waifs and ingénues with whom he was never photographed twice.
You just knew you were safe from any advances from him.
You thought.
“Enchanté, Ms. Y/LN. It is a pleasure to meet you."
Bucky lowered his head as he greeted you, a slight bow and extended his hand to his desk. You noticed the tattoo that started on his hand and seemed to go up his sleeve and went in the direction he pointed.
"You know, you are quite tenacious. I don’t take many meetings with potential buyers. But all of my people told me that I should.”
The silk of his voice, the unexpected tenor of it, and the way he took your hand made you shiver at the aura of experience that he gave off.
The word Daddy floated around in your mind for a moment until he invited you to sit.
You had to concentrate on the business at hand, that of negotiating for a piece of art for the Art and Culture Center in Brownsville, of which you were the director. The purchase was made possible by benefactors to commemorate a deceased Brownsville artist who became famous, then forgotten, during the Harlem Renaissance.
“You’ve made it past Ms. Romanoff, my gallerist, Mr. Wilson, my business manager, and Mr. Rogers, my gallery director, Ms. Y/LN. What makes you think that I’m going to give you a different answer? Letting that piece go for the price you’ve proposed is not a good business move.”
“You can’t afford to miss out on this opportunity, Mr. Barnes. Yes, you will be taking a loss on the artwork, but you will be on the ground floor of a major rediscovery. You will be known as one of the few who helped to resurrect the brilliance of the artist Howard Benson. You can be the Alice Walker to his Zora Neale Hurston.”
And that is when Bucky leaned back in his chair, astounded at your shrewd calculation.
“I love the way your mind works, Ms. Y/LN.”
You smiled and settled back into your chair, causing Bucky to shift in his chair. He wanted to be buried in you. He appraised and decided that he liked the pout that changed your lips almost as much as the smile that initially greeted him when he replied, “But that price is still unacceptable.”
You raised an adorable eyebrow at him and rose to the challenge that he lay at your feet ready to tangle with the inimitable James Barnes. The conversation stretched from early afternoon to dinner time, making you suspect that Barnes was drawing it out for some reason. You matched him, point for point, until it was dark. But he yielded no ground.
The conversation was intellectual foreplay: art history, sociology, american politics. And it was the most stimulated you’d been in a while.
You could do this all night.
Your phone buzzed and you looked down. There were several text messages and emails lighting up your screen. You’d been in deep with Barnes for hours. It was after 6 pm. It seemed like only minutes. You noticed that it was only you and Bucky left in the gallery and rose to excuse yourself, albeit reluctantly.
“Oh! I’m sorry to keep you so long. I’m sure that you must have plans.”
You’d done your research and you knew that there was probably someone little more than half Barnes’ age waiting for him. When you searched social media, there was a sighting or spotted every month or so of Bucky and a young, beautiful woman.
You reached for your coat, but Bucky was behind you in seconds, taking it from you and helping you put it on. You shivered at his breath at your throat and his hands on your collarbone as he draped the lapels over your neck. His deep chuckle made your stomach flip. He saw right through you.
“No one is waiting for me but my cat, Alpine. How about you, Ms. YLN? Anyone waiting for you in Brownsville?”
“Not tonight. No.”
Why in the world were you doing the sultry whisper thing? This man didn’t want you.
Did he?
You cleared your throat and you felt dizzy when you looked up and saw how close he was standing to you. Those eyes and the smile that graced his handsome face had you warm, but the way he licked his lips had you spiraling.
Bucky pushed down a mild sense of panic that someone might be expecting you some other night, but that was irrational. Competition never ever entered his mind when he talked to other women.
What was happening here?
“Well I would consider myself extremely fortunate and would be honored if we could continue this conversation over dinner.”
—-
The way James Barnes turned your meeting into a dinner date had your head spinning, but the wonderful conversation and easy, light hearted banter eased your mind. As soon as the first course was served at your table at dinner at Bohemian, he agreed to your initial price.
From there, once the terms were settled, the conversation turned to more personal questions, each of you sharing the stories of your life in your town, his childhood in Romania, your childhood in Brooklyn, and lots of funny stories.
At one point early in the night, Bucky stopped you from calling him Mr. Barnes.
“Please. Call me James. Or you could call me Bucky. My Friends call me Bucky. For my middle name, Buchanan. Bucky is short for Buchanan.”
Bucky found himself rambling. He had not been this nervous in a while.
You looked at him quizzically. At that moment, he would give you anything you were about to ask of him.
“Do you have a lot of friends? I mean, do a lot of people call you Bucky?“
Godamn, the husk in your voice, those lips, those eyes. Everything about you was about to set him on fire.
“I have a few who are in my close circle. Natasha, Steve, Sam. They and a very few others call me Bucky. Most people I speak with call me Mr. Barnes...”
You nodded slowly, licking your lips, making Bucky feel it in his cock.
“Then I will call you James.”
He got your subtle meaning. You wanted to be different.
And you were. So very different.
After almost five hours of the best conversation and laughter, he proposed another time for you two to meet before the week was up, on Friday. He had made it clear at dinner that now that business was concluded that he wanted to spend time with you.
Friday night would be a date, the second one at his insistence.
You debated that fact as his driver took you home, even up until he walked you to the door of your brownstone.
He leaned against your doorframe and checked you out as you retrieved your keys from your purse. When you turned and caught him looking, you gasped, causing him to straighten up and move toward you, eyes dilated.
“It will be our second date,” you conceded.
Bucky’s mouth curled into a smirk as he grabbed your hand and lifted it to his mouth. Your soul burned as he pressed his lips to your palm. It was like the hint of a drug in your veins and you wanted so much more.
“What made you change your mind?”
That voice. Did you have a voice kink? Good lord.
You flushed, both at the images that were racing through your mind, and at the arbitrary three date rule you’d made up a while ago. Why was that again?
You cleared your throat.
“Because of the way you are looking at me, James. And the fact that you just kissed me.”
“Is this a kiss?”
“Ummhmmmm.”
You hummed as Bucky raised his eyebrow and your hand again. This time, he brushed his lips against your wrist and inhaled the perfume lingering there. You were about to melt.
Bucky didn’t even know what he was doing. The next step in his mind was to open his mouth and consume you, but he opened his eyes and spied you looking at him in that way, and he knew he had to stop. He didn’t want this to be like all of his other conquests.
He straightened up, but didn’t let go of your hand, entangling your fingers together.
“You are correct, Y/N. In my mind, this is a date. I am interested in you, for more than just your taste in art. I hope that this is the first date of many.”
You were bowled over at his straightforwardness. It was not what you were used to. This was a man, not a boy in mens clothing.
“I appreciate your honesty, James.”
You went on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, your lips lingering on the black and grey stubble so close to his lips. You turned around, giving him a view of your backside as you opened your door.
“And your ambition.”
You gave him that smile again with a wink, and your “Goodnight, James,” floated up to him on cloud nine.
——-
Let me know if you liked it!
Part II here.
#falloween#falloween 24#kinktober#kinktober 24#ramp-it-up falloween ‘24#bucky barnes#Art dealer! Bucky Barnes#mob boss! Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x plus size reader#bucky barnes x black!reader
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Aftermath
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob!Bucky AU)
Word Count: 2,318
Summary: Bucky has kept you safe for as long as he's had you but the first time you don't follow his orders is definitey going to be the last.
Author's Note: These new pics are giving lots of mob/mafia vibes and I love it! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: some angst in the beginning and illusions to violence, mentions of a gun, Bucky is soft and there are lots of fluffy moments but he's pissed you didn't listen and he needs you.
You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing heavily when Nat doesn’t pick up the phone. She only called you two minutes ago. Right after she sent you a text telling you she needed to talk. Under any other circumstances you would never leave your perch at the bar. Never leave the safety of Bucky’s club and go against his orders.
However, your best friend needs you. She just had a bad break up and things are still rocky so any time she calls you were sure to be there for her. So here you are, standing on the sidewalk outside Bucky’s nightclub, phone pressed to your ear and your foot tapping rapidly against the concrete.
Bucky told you about the heavy tension building between him and a rival boss trying to impede on his territory. He told you that your safety was his first priority. That’s why you were with him at his club right now. He didn’t want you out of his sight.
But you were only just right outside the door…
You’ll try Nat one more time then go back inside and wait for Bucky like he asked.
The phone starts ringing and you hold your breath, hoping she’ll answer. Just as you hear her voice on the other end a car pulls up at the curb and with one glance the occupants have you swiftly turning on your heel and heading back toward the doors of the club.
“Nat,” you say quietly. “Are you ok?”
“I’m having a rough night,” she sighs. “I need your opinion on something.”
“Of course.”
You’re walking at a brisk clip, realizing that during your musings you had wandered farther from the door than you intended to.
Nat is still talking but the sound of your blood rushing through your ears starts to drown out any other sounds.
Four men get out of the car, none of which you recognize. You need to get inside quickly. One of them, carrying a baseball bat, twirls it lazily in his hand as he saunters closer, looking you over appreciatively.
Apprehension shoots up your spine, intuition guaranteeing that they’re here to start trouble.
“Nat I have to go. Call Bucky.”
She starts to reply but you hang up before she can, hoping she heard the trepidation in your voice and does as you asked.
Before you can reach the entrance, two of them lunge in front of you and block your progress.
“Where are you goin’ so fast beautiful?” One of the men asks.
“Excuse me,” you say.
A third man circles up behind you.
“Let me by,” you tell them.
The man holding the baseball bat ignores you.
“You belong to Barnes don’t you?”
Your suspicions are right. These are bad men and they are definitely looking to cause some trouble for your husband. And you.
You shrink back on purpose, appealing to their inflated arrogance and hoping they will underestimate you.
“Please. Just let me go.”
The man with the bat laughs as he runs the coarse wood along your bare calf.
“Think your man will miss you?”
Before the bat reaches your thigh you smack it away. Even though the attempt is most likely useless you’re hoping to pass more time. One of the men behind you snakes a hand around your elbow and yanks you toward him.
“Get in the fucking car baby,” he sneers. “It’s for your own good.”
The fourth man, still in the car, pushes open the back door and lets out a whistle.
“Come on gorgeous. I’ll keep you warm for Barnes.”
You take a deep breath as they propel you toward the car and only put up a small amount of resistance. As soon as you sense they are under the false impression that you’re coming willingly, the hand on your elbow weakens and you act.
With sharp and quick movements you reach for the baseball bat now dangling loosely from the leader’s hands and grab it, swinging it in a large arc to buy yourself some room.
Two of the men jump back, having been caught off guard, but it connects with the leader’s rib cage and he let’s out a vile curse, falling to his knees.
You back up as the other two men approach. Unfortunately, it’s in the direction away from the doors.
“He should have locked this one up,” the man closest to you laughs. “She’s full of fire.”
“And I’m going to enjoy that,” he leader says as he stands, still holding his ribs.
You bring the bat down hard as he lunges for you, but he dodges the weapon and barrels himself closer until he can wrap a strong arm around your waist.
The bat is ripped from your hands and your back is plastered against the man’s chest, his hand creeping up between your breasts to wrap around your throat.
He squeezes hard, tight enough to cut of your air and reflectively your fingers claw and try to pry his hand away.
You try to focus, getting ready to go limp and convince him you’re out cold, so you can somehow disable him.
Just as you’re about to put your plan into action the front door of the club flies open, hitting the side of the brick building with enough force to crack the metal.
Through your dimming eyesight, you can make out several men, including Bucky, before his ferocious growl of denial echoes through the air around you.
It startles the man choking you enough that he eases up on the pressure, allowing you to suck in precious oxygen.
Guns are drawn just before your knees hit the concrete and your stomach twists with renewed fear.
“Bucky,” you whisper, getting to your feet and stepping closer to him.
His haunted gaze makes you swallow hard and you can see the emotional battle written all over his handsome features. With his long finger poised on the trigger, he clearly wants to end the man who had his hands on you.
Without a word he tears his attention away from you, indicting your captor with a nod of his head.
“Steve.”
Steve, his own gun held in a tight grasp, moves in front of Bucky and toward the other man.
“He doesn’t go anywhere,” Bucky seethes.
The other two men from the rival group, still outside of the car, lower their weapons, watching with no emotion as Steve wrestles their leader to the ground with the gun to his head.
Finally, they let out a string of curses and hop back into the car, leaving their ‘friend’ behind as they peel away from the curb.
Bucky motions to Clint and Sam. “Follow them. This ends tonight.”
As Clint and Sam rush off to follow Bucky’s order he slowly saunters forward, the open collar of his shirt blowing wider in the light breeze.
He picks up the bat with a nonchalance that contradicts the tightness of his body and swings it deftly in his metal hand. When his fingers close around the handle you hear the wood crack under the pressure.
Bucky comes to a stop directly over the left-behind leader, and his gaze meets yours for a brief, heavy second, before he raises the bat high and brings it down with enough force to make you gasp.
Your heart races out of control, breathing shallow in your ears. The bat connects with the sidewalk next to the man’s head, sending shards of wood in every direction.
Your relief is short lived.
Bucky crouches down and looks the cowering man straight in his eyes.
“You. Are a dead man.”
Slowly and purposefully he rises to his feet and holds his hand out for you. You swallow the hard lump in your throat and place your fingers in his. In a split second you’re swept into his arms and tugged against his hard chest.
He drags you toward his car and tucks you into the passenger seat, buckling your belt and then slamming the door shut.
Through the closed window you can still hear him shout to Steve. “You know where to take him. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
The silence stretches long and thin through the car and you can almost feel Bucky’s rage. You open your mouth to speak but promptly shut it when you hear his huff of warning.
He hates the feeling of fear so instead he welcomes the anger, focusing on it, wishing it’s enough to block out the image of you being choked, your feet scraping at the ground and hands clawing at your neck.
If he dwells on it too long his whole word will collapse and he has to get you home. To safety.
At the reminder of what he saw as he walked out of the club, his grip tightens on the leather steering wheel, almost making the car swerve.
When he pulls up in front of your house he checks his surroundings before driving in through the gated driveway. He looks to you, a silent demand to wait, before he gets out of the car and does another sweep of the area.
Once he deems it safe he opens your door and helps you out of the car.
When you’re safely inside the house he leaves you standing just inside the door, inside the large and opulent foyer, as he flies around the nearby rooms and checks every window and lock.
Your gaze follows him the entire time, trying desperately to draw him in and away from the rage. He staunchly defies it and after he feels satisfied the house is safe he takes you by the arm and leads you toward your shared master bedroom.
He walks to the nightstand and opens the drawer, reaching deep into the back to retrieve a gun.
“Bucky, please. Will you just talk to me?”
He can feel you standing close.
“You will stay in this room, with the door locked, until I come back. Anyone tries to get in that isn’t me, you shoot them. Understand?”
When your silence becomes too much he turns to you, keeping his eyes steady as he pleads.
“Tell me you’ll listen. That you understand.”
You take a deep inhale but still don’t speak.
“I’m waiting for my answer doll.”
You move closer and everything inside him tenses up.
“Don’t,” you whisper.
You lay a hand on his chest, immediately making him tremble from head to toe. His eyes close defensively as your hand moves higher and sneaks under the open buttons of his shirt then to his neck and finally into his hair.
Your lips press to his neck.
“Please Bucky. Don’t leave me. Stay.”
He shakes his head, unable to speak and it only makes you drag your lips higher, along his jaw until they hover just above his mouth.
A groan leaves his parted lips before he can stop it.
“I’m scared. I need you.”
Your lips brush over his, once, twice. The hand in his hair runs smoothly along the back of his neck and then coasts over his broad shoulder and down his chest.
“I have to go doll.”
His words are gritted and tortured before his name leaves your lips in a soft whisper.
“Where are you going?” you ask.
“You know where I’m goin.’ Don’t make me say it.”
When he notices the glossiness of your eyes it strips him bare and he falls back a step, ready to fall to his knees for you.
“Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”
He’s shouting now.
“If I hadn’t gotten to you in time? One minute later, baby. One fucking minute!”
Your fingers tremble as you reach for him.
“I know, I…”
“You would have been gone. How can you expect me to survive that.”
He breaks off, not able to put the horrifying thought into more words.
“Fuck. I’m so mad at you doll. So mad. But all I can think about is how I need to be inside you. Need to feel you wrapped around me. Feel you everywhere.”
You tightly grasp the lapel of his jacket and drag him closer. He comes easily. Willingly.
“Bucky,” you whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just thought I’d be outside for a second. Nat needed me…I never thought…”
Every word you speak continues to topple the reinforced barrier of anger he’s built. The only thing keeping it standing is that there’s still some physical space between you both.
But then you take a step closer and curl your fingers in the hem of your dress to draw it up over your head, the whole time letting your knuckles and hands brush along his heaving chest and every ounce of his self-control vanishes.
His heated gaze rakes over you and his hands fist at his sides.
You press yourself against him and deliberately untuck his shirt, slipping your hands underneath the lush fabric and running your fingernails up his rigid stomach. His muscles contract beneath your fingers.
“I need you baby doll. So badly.”
You unhook your bra and drop it to the floor, tingles racing over your skin as his jaw grinds with his devouring stare. You lower your hand to palm and squeeze his straining arousal.
“You can have me now Bucky. Now and always.”
His expression softens long enough for you to catch the brightness in his eyes and then his mouth is on yours, his hands frenzied as they grasp and smooth over every inch of your bare skin. He never breaks the kiss as he walks you backward toward the bed, letting you gently fall to the soft mattress before he settles himself between your spread legs.
“I can’t touch all of you at once and it drives me crazy,” he whispers against your lips as his hand slides down between your legs. “I need everything, always.”
@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @lizette50 @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#mob!bucky#mob!bucky x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x female reader#mob!bucky barnes#bucky x reader#mob au#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader
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Starting Over: Chapter 4 - Build
Mob!Bucky x Female Reader
Series Masterlist
When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.
Me again! We’re back. Sorry I know I keep adding new parts but I’ve broken up the final chapter into two as it just keep going and this is a huge bumper one (sorry). I promise there genuinely will only be one more looool. Thanks again for all of your reblogs/comments/love for this story, it means a lot!!
💔
Lou had welcomed you back with open arms, fixing you up with a waitress job at the diner. Of course he had. Lou was like the father you’d never had. His love was one of the few constants in your life.
Mercifully, he didn’t ask you much about Bucky, didn’t chastise you for making a bad choice and getting involved with a mob boss. That wasn’t what Lou was about. He knew that ‘I told you so’ served no purpose, he knew that you were a big girl and there was nothing he could tell you that you didn’t already know yourself. So why bother? All that mattered was that you were here, and you needed him. He would always catch you when you fell.
Going back to waitressing didn’t feel like you’d taken a step back or that you’d somehow failed, if anything it was quite nice to see this former version of your life once more. And you’d missed chatting with the regulars, helping Lou with the accounts, occasionally fighting small fires (both metaphorical and very occasionally, literal). With Bucky you didn’t need to work, which was nice in one way, but you’d missed the structure and purpose your old job had given you. You previously had no interest in daily gossipy lunches with the other mob wives, and there was only so much shopping you could do.
“How did we ever cope without you?” Lou had asked one morning after you’d successfully chased and caught a dine and dasher, and saved hundreds of dollars on the power bill after negotiating a new contract. All before 10am.
You grinned, “I feel the same way about this place”.
You had moved in with Wanda, she had insisted - despite your protests. She and her boyfriend, Vis, gave you the spare room and said you could stay until you got back on your feet. It was small and full of all the extra stuff they couldn’t fit elsewhere in their apartment, but you didn’t care. You would’ve been happy with the couch, or a sleeping bag on the floor.
Nat was equally helpful, sorting you out by buying new clothes and shoes in your size and giving you some of the toiletries and make-up she didn’t use. She even cut and restyled your hair (‘because hair holds memories’, she told you) and took on whichever role you needed. Sometimes that was nights on her couch crying as she held you, other times it was hitting up the bars and trying to forget. She did it all. She had come and got you that morning at the hotel, after you sent her a frantic message from the rickety computer explaining what had happened. She told you she’d be there in 30 minutes…but ended up doing the trip in 20.
One afternoon a week or so later, Bucky’s men radioed him to let them know that there was a redhead in a Mercedes at the front gates demanding to speak to him. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’d sighed as he saw her familiar face on the security monitor and told them to let her in. He knew this day would come. He dismissed them, they didn’t need to be here for this.
Nat had parked up and casually exited the car, strolling across the patio as Bucky stood in the doorway and waited for the inevitable. She didn’t keep him waiting long, slugging him across the jaw with a sharp ‘thwack’ causing him to stagger back against the doorframe.
“Got it. Anything else to say?” he groaned.
She nodded and then kneed him hard in the groin, turning on her heel as she left him in a crumpled heap and ambled back to her car.
“I warned you this would happen if you hurt her”, she called out calmly without looking back.
“Always good to see you, Nat”, Bucky managed to eke out as she slammed the car door.
The generosity of them all was overwhelming, you knew how lucky you were. It’s often said that you don’t know who your true friends are until you fall on hard times, and your friends had proved themselves tenfold. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to repay their kindness.
💔
It had been about six weeks since the night at the hotel when he started coming to the diner. No goons or hangers-on, just him. Which was almost unheard of, given his position.
The first time was a Friday morning, around 9am. He sat in the corner booth, head buried in the menu.
“I can kick him out, hon’, I’m not scared of him”, Lou had snarled as he glared over at the man in the booth.
“It’s okay, Lou. I can handle him,” you told him gently, giving his arm a reassuring stroke.
You took a deep breath as you approached his table. You couldn’t see his face, just his hands, an eerie mirror of the first time you’d met.
“What can I get you?” you asked as you readied your pad and pen, your voice surprisingly even, in spite your stomach’s somersaults.
He lowered the menu slowly and you couldn’t deny it was good to see him again. His blue eyes shone, the former dusting of stubble over his chin and jawline now a fuller beard - just as tantalising as it had always been. A few strands of his hair had come away from the carefully styled gel, framing his face perfectly. Some of your former anger towards him bubbled away beneath the surface, but you couldn’t deny you had also missed him. You had loved him, after all.
The two of you shared a knowing smile.
“You know there are like…hundreds of other breakfast places in this city, right?” you teased, but half-serious.
“I do…but this is the only one that gets my eggs just right,” he grinned back.
“Mmm. I’ll pass your compliments onto the chef. You still want the usual?”
“Please”.
You scribbled down the familiar order onto the page. It felt strange to write it down again, it had been a long time since you’d done that for him.
“Are you going to behave?” you questioned, arms folded.
“Mostly”.
“You’d better. Lou will have your ass if you don’t” you scoffed.
“I don’t doubt it”.
“And Bucky, if you’re here to-” you began, your face betraying the pain that still lurked within you.
“I’m not”, he cut you off. “Just breakfast. I promise”.
You nodded, pressing your lips together with trepidation. The two of you watched the other for a few seconds.
“Well, okay, that’ll be right out”.
You turned and put his order into the kitchen. You didn’t have to look back to know he was watching.
“Here you go”.
You returned to the booth a little later, laying out the plates and re-filling his coffee, he thanked you and pulled a napkin from the dispenser.
“I like your new hair”, he said as he began to cut up his food, his eyes not leaving the table.
“Thanks. I like your new beard”.
“Thanks. Business going okay here?”
“Doing well. Yours?”
“Same old, same old…”
“And…Rumlow?” you asked, your throat catching a little as you said his name.
“Terminated” he replied coldly as he took a sip of coffee.
“Yes…I presumed so. HYDRA?”
“I finally cut off all of those heads”.
“I hope you mean metaphorically”.
“Mostly. The girls good? Vis?”
“All good. Steve? Sam?”
“Also good”.
“Good”.
“Good”.
“Well…good to catch up. Let me know if you need anything else. Enjoy”.
“Thanks”.
You waited for some big trick or reveal, but it never came. He ate his meal, drank another coffee refill, paid the bill, tipped, and left within the hour. Like any other customer. Lou was sceptical, and so were you – but there nothing to suggest it was anything else but breakfast…like he said.
And that’s how it was every Friday after that. He’d come in at 9am on the dot, sit in the same booth. Order the usual. You were always his waitress. Everything was the same, every week. The other regulars knew to avoid sitting at his table at that time. The other servers would barely bat an eyelid as he strolled in, taking for granted that you’d be along shortly to put his order in – even if he wasn’t in your section that morning. And it was…fine. He didn’t try and do anything more, didn’t ask you to meet anywhere or for a chance to talk. You initially thought it would be hard to see him again, but it was okay. Maybe a future where the two of you just pleasantly co-existed was possible.
The two of you would chat. Just small talk at first. Occasionally a joke. Even Lou would chat to him sometimes, he was still wary of Bucky but more open to him than he was previously. He certainly didn’t mind him spending money in his restaurant.
Weeks soon became months. Seasons changed. Still, he came in every week, rain or shine. Plates and plates of eggs eaten; endless coffee mugs refilled. He didn’t ever skip it, he was never sick, never seemed to take vacations. He showed up every time. Even if you weren’t there.
The small talk eventually evolved, so slowly you barely noticed it happen. You chatted more about the old times, memories started to feel fonder rather than sad reminders of what was lost. He told you anecdotes about Steve and Sam. You told him about Wanda and Vis, about Nat. You laughed uproariously one morning over the story of Sam’s disastrous vacation involving a mistaken suitcase and an overzealous TSA agent. It was nice to just sit and talk with him, just be with him. No expectations or obligations. You hadn’t forgiven him. You weren’t sure you ever could. But you had missed him. And seeing him for an hour every week, on your turf, just shooting the breeze – that was nice.
“So, you seeing anyone?” you asked one morning as you sat across from him in the booth and sipped your drink, your break coinciding with the end of his meal. You weren’t sure where it came from, but it popped out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop it. The curiosity was eating you alive. You seemed to talk about everything apart from his love life.
He firmly shook his head, “nope”.
You frowned. “Really? When was the last time you went on a date?”
“With you,” he replied in that no-nonsense tone of his.
You cocked your head, peering over at him in disbelief.
“But Bucky…”
“What? I’m not interested in anyone else”.
“But we’re not together. And it’s been months”.
“I know”, he replied stoically as he sipped his coffee. His eyes seemed to be studying you.
“And we’re not getting back together…”
“I know”.
“But…”
“But what?”
“I don’t know, but I-I don’t like this. It feels like a ploy, somehow. To push me into taking you back” you stammered, your finger dancing on the rim of your mug.
“It’s not. It’s just a fact. I didn’t even bring it up, you did”.
He was frustratingly calm and unperturbed, finishing his breakfast like this was just some casual conversation about the weather or a movie he’d seen.
“So…what, you’re never gonna date anyone again? Is that it?” you scowled.
He shrugged, “I never said that. It’s just not something I’m looking to do right now. Work is taking up most of my time. Plus, I’m in therapy, working through a few things. I’d rather be in a better place before I start dating again. Learn from my past mistakes”.
“Oh…” you responded in surprise, “well…that’s very mature of you. And is it…helpful?”
“Mmm, pretty eye opening,” he nodded as he took another sip of his coffee, “I’d recommend it to anyone,” he looked at you pointedly.
You felt the heat at your cheeks, perfectly aware that he was suggesting you do the same. And he was probably right. But you didn’t like the potential to appear vulnerable in front of him, so you merely shrugged and went back to rubbing your coffee cup. You were genuinely pleased for him…it was just unfortunate that your break-up was the catalyst. You felt a wave of grief roll through you.
You paused for just a beat, again unable to stop your word vomit.
“Are you gonna ask if I’m seeing anyone?”
“No”.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s none of my business. You can date whoever you want”, he shrugged, keeping his attention on his plate.
You frowned. “And you’re okay with that?”
“Yes. I just want you to be happy, doll”.
“Bullshit!” you scoffed, “you once picked a man up by his ankles and dipped his head in the toilet because he grabbed my ass at that party…”
“Well, that was deserved. And I didn’t flush it on him, so he got off easy…”
You pointed an accusatory finger at him across the table. “Buck…I know you. What’s your game, here?”
He sighed heavily, taking a long sip of his coffee before he spoke. His eyes finally moved up from his plate to meet yours. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just like being with you? In whatever form I can? That maybe I’m happy just getting this time with you every week, no matter what happens between us?”
“And that’s enough for you?” you asked incredulously.
He shifted in his seat, his tone suddenly very serious.
“Look, doll. I’m always going to love you. And I’m always going to be honest with you. If you turned around tomorrow and you told me you wanted to give things another shot – sure, I’d bite your hand off to accept. But I live in the real world. And I know you aren’t likely to forgive me for what I did, and that’s fine. I’ve accepted that. I’m just happy to have you in my life in some way, even if that’s just talking to you every Friday while I have my breakfast”.
You blinked back at him, unsure whether to take him at his word or if this was some manipulation tactic. The word ‘love’ echoed in your ears, and you had to shake it off that he said he still felt that way about you. Maybe this was all some trick. You knew you couldn’t trust him anymore.
But as you looked into his eyes, for a moment his sentiment felt…genuine. Real. Maybe he was telling the truth.
“Fine”, you sighed as you took a sip from your cup, “I get paid to be here either way…”
💔
A few more months passed, it had been nearly a year since the break-up. Bucky remained a weekly customer but nothing else. You’d finally moved out of Wanda’s into your own place – a shitty, cramped studio apartment was the best you could do on a waitress wage and tips – but it was yours. It had been such a long time since you’d had your own space, you loved every meagre inch.
You'd also started therapy, to help get your head around your childhood and abandonment issues - to help understand why you were always ready to run and expect everything to collapse. Bucky was right, it was valuable - if not hard going. But you knew it was helping, even though nothing could be 'fixed' overnight.
You still visited Wanda and Vis regularly. In fact, you were over there laughing with Wanda and making an early dinner when you got the call that Friday evening. She knew something terrible had happened from the way your face fell, your eyes widening with shock as you listened to the voice on the other end telling you whatever horror story it was. Seconds later you were rushing out of the front door and trying to wrangle on your coat and grab your bag, as she called out to you in a panic just steps behind.
“It was a massive heart attack,” the doctor had said as she eyed the clipboard in front of her. “He was lucky that a passerby on the street called an ambulance, if he’d been alone…he may not have been able to call himself, and if it had been too late…”
You had not been at the hospital long, sweating and panting in your rush to get down there. Your head fuzzy, unable to fully take in what you’d been told. The doctor was still talking, her voice an unidentifiable drone in your ears as you concentrated all your efforts on staying upright. You tugged off your coat, suddenly far too hot. The hospital felt like a furnace, suffocating and stifling. You were dizzy, everything felt blurred.
A couple of chairs sat a few feet away along the sterile-looking hallway, you plopped down into one and put your head in your hands.
“Can she see him?” Wanda asked the doctor, her hands patting your shoulders supportively.
“He’s stable, but the team are just doing some observations on him. Plus, he needs to rest, and might be feeling groggy after the meds. He’ll be out for a good while. It might take some time to be conscious and lucid again, so-”
“I’ll wait,” you said defiantly, the first time you’d spoken since you got there. “However long it takes”.
“Yes, I understand. And you’re his…friend?”
“Daughter,” you corrected. “I’m Lou’s daughter. Well…good as. He doesn’t have any other family. Neither of us do…”
The doctor nodded kindly, pointing out the coffee machine across the hall and leaving you to it.
💔
Wanda waited with you for a while, but she had a work event that night. She insisted she’d stay but you waved her off, telling her you’d check in with her later. She’d been planning that event for months. Lou would be mad at her for missing it, let alone over him. And you meant it, you didn’t want her missing it because of you.
So, she left. Leaving you by yourself in the hard chair with the plastic cup of lukewarm motor oil masquerading as coffee. Nat was out in the Bahamas with some hottie for the week, and you didn’t really want to bother Vis, so you sat quietly alone. You kept sane by reminding yourself that Lou was stable, and his prognosis looked good. He would be okay. He would. He’s made of strong stuff.
Another hour went by, and you couldn’t help your tears from falling as you began to work yourself up worrying, exacerbated by the fact you hadn’t eaten and had nobody around to stop you from spiralling. Wanda had sent a few texts, but you knew she was busy and didn’t need you distracting her. You just wished you had someone to talk to. Or not even talk to, just be with. You squeezed your phone in your hands as if willing the idea that someone would suddenly call you out of the blue. A friend you’d forgotten, a long-lost family member. But there was nobody.
Well, almost nobody.
You pulled your purse onto your lap and dug through, retrieving your wallet at the bottom. You opened it up and checked each card holder until you found what you were searching for, slightly worn and torn tucked behind the library card you barely used, but the details still clear as day.
JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES
Director of 107 Inc.
You had scooped up the card after he left it in the hotel room. It was a bit of a split decision, you’d nearly tossed it in the trash but changed your mind at the last second and jammed it into your wallet, not really thinking about why. You hadn’t looked at it since, you’d never transferred his number into your phone, or even spoken to him outside of Fridays at the diner. But he had become something of a friend over the last few months, and you were surprised to find yourself looking forward to seeing him every week. It was as if you’d gotten to know each other again from scratch, a slow-burn friendship grown over time – the complete opposite of your initial whirlwind relationship, where heat had won out over foundations. But now, you felt you knew him differently. It was funny how you get to know somebody without the chemistry and physical attraction fogging up your brain.
Was this stupid? Were you asking for trouble? But…it would be nice to talk to someone. Just a phone call, nothing more. You took a deep breath and punched the numbers into the keypad before you could talk yourself out of it.
“Hello?” came his gruff voice in your year after two rings.
You sat upright, surprised he had even answered at all – let alone so fast. You hadn’t really thought about what you were going to say.
“Hey, Buck, I…” you squeaked, unable to mask the emotion in your voice.
“Doll?” his voice immediately softened, “what is it? Are you okay?”
“Yeah…well, no, actually. I’m at Mount Sinai…uh…Lou-uh, Lou had a big heart attack and I’m at the hospital and hesreallysickandI-I…”
You sobbed, your words melting into one as the pain of saying them out loud hit home, “I’m sorry I…”
“Hey. It’s okay. Take a moment for me, alright? Take a deep breath doll…”
You closed your eyes, inhaling and exhaling, blowing the air out of your lips like he said. You did it a few times, feeling slightly better afterwards,
“Good, that’s good,” Bucky told you. “Are you by yourself? Are Wanda and Nat there with you?”
“No…Wanda is working, Nat’s away. It’s fine…I just…”
“I’m so sorry about Lou, doll”, he said tenderly. “Do you want me to come down there?”
“No…no…it’s okay…I just. I just wanna talk,” you replied, wiping your eyes with the palm of your hand.
“Yeah…yeah, we can do that. What shall we talk about?”
You sighed, “I don’t know. Anything. Anything that isn’t hospitals or heart attacks…or food. Because I haven’t eaten and I’m starving.”
“Alright. Hmm. Well…I had to break up a fight between Thor and Scott today, if that helps distract you…”
“What? But Thor is twice Scott’s size. That was mean of him…”
“No…Scott started it. Said Thor was mouthing off about something or other and it all blew up. Scott swung for him”.
“What?? Is he insane?” you practically shrieked, the beginnings of a giggle forming in your throat as you tried to imagine Scott trying to land a punch as Thor towered above him.
“I guess so. But they worked it out. Last time I saw them they were laughing, and Thor was swinging him from his shoulders”.
You laughed. A proper, deep belly laugh. It felt good. Cathartic. You could practically see some of the tension leave your body.
“Well, I’m glad they figured it out. What else did you do today, Buck?”
“Hm. Not a lot. Mostly work. I went to the park. Just to get some air. Went to that duck pond you like and sat on the bench for a while”.
You smiled, “I love that pond”.
“I know. Remember that time you nearly fell in trying to help that duckling trapped in the weeds?”
“I do. I remember that you had to catch me and I accidentally splashed pondwater on your suit as I stumbled…” you laughed fondly.
“Not the worst thing I’ve had my dry cleaner remove for me. And we got the duckling back to its mom, even if she was furious at us”.
“She tried to bite you…”
“She succeeded”.
You both chuckled for a moment as you reminisced, then it suddenly went quiet between you both. You held the phone tightly to your ear, unsure and a little lost for words. It felt odd to feel tongue-tied around Bucky, it had always been so easy to know what to say to him. Despite how easy it was to slip back into nostalgia just now, and your newfound friendship, there was still something of a gulf between the two of you. You had been apart for so long now.
“…thanks, Buck,” you whispered.
“Anytime, doll”.
💔
After you hung up with Bucky, a nurse came over and you shot up out of your chair with anticipation. She told you that Lou was doing well but was slowly coming around after a heavy sedative. He should be ready for visitors in another hour or so. You sighed heavily but nodded grimly, as long as Lou was alright – that was all that mattered.
You sank back into your faithful chair, pulling out your rapidly dying phone again and wishing you had the foresight to bring a charger when you left Wanda’s. Or some food, at least.
You continued your vigil in the unfeeling hospital hallway, a place that seemed to exist outside of time. But you had to admit, speaking to Bucky had raised your spirits a little. It reminded you of the old days, when he was an anchor in a storm, a calming presence when things were tough. Part of you had missed that.
You’d just closed your eyes a little while later when you heard someone call your name.
“Still hungry?”
Your eyes filled with tears as your head snapped to see who it was.
There stood Bucky dressed in his off-duty grey sweats, his unstyled hair flopping across his forehead. In his hand was a brown bag, you instantly recognised the brand of your favourite take-out place printed across the front. It smelled heavenly.
“Buck…?” you mumbled in shock, not quite believing he was there, “what…what are you doing here?”
He shrugged, “you said you were alone and hadn’t eaten. I know how you get when you’re anxious. Figured you could use this”.
It wasn’t clear if he meant the food or the company, but in that moment, you were grateful for both.
He sat in the chair next to yours and began to methodically remove the food tubs, placing them on your lap and opening the lids as he pulled out a fork and napkins.
“Hope you still like this one,” he said as he revealed your usual order.
“I do”, you replied, your voice small.
“Good. Dig in.”
You began to eat slowly, feeling strangely self-conscious about your audience. Fortunately, he pulled out a tub of his own which took the focus off you. The two of you sat side by side and ate in silence.
“Thanks for this, Bucky,” you mumbled between mouthfuls.
“Anytime. Any news on Lou?”
“Should be ready for visitors soon”.
“Well, that’s good. He’s a tough old bastard.”
You both finished your meals and Bucky got to work tidying up the empty containers and old napkins and depositing them in the trash. You thanked him as he sat back down.
“Hey…thanks again, that was really thoughtful - but really, you don’t have to stay,” you shrugged, “you probably have a busy night”.
He shook his head, “nope. I’m wide open”.
He stared straight ahead and leaned back, his bulk squeezing up against the armrests of the chair. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“What do you mean when you said, ‘I know how you get when you’re anxious?’” you asked him tentatively.
“Just…I know how you can spiral when you’re stressed. Figured you could use some company is all,” he casually as he moved his hair away from his face.
“T-thanks,” you responded, your throat dry, “I’m not really up to chatting much right now, though”.
He was nonchalant, “that’s fine”.
The two of you sat side by side, nothing said.
It was awkward at first, sharing this cold and sterile space with your ex, worries about Lou weighing you down. But then after some time…it was sort of…okay? He didn’t try to initiate any conversation; he didn’t show any signs of boredom – even though he must’ve been feeling it. Didn’t complain. Didn’t check his watch. He just sat and waited with you, his arms propped up casually on the armrests and his eyes trained on the wall in front of him. You were grateful that he’d heeded your request not to speak as you didn’t have the brain power to labour a conversation. You didn’t fully understand why, but him just physically being there was strangely comforting - as odd as that was to admit to yourself.
Eventually the nurse returned, her smile warm as she greeted you.
“Oh, you have a friend. Right on time, Lou is ready to see you now”.
You quickly got to your feet and dashed after her as she led you to Lou’s room. Bucky followed close behind.
Your heart sank when you finally saw him, covered in wires and tubes, his face suddenly much older than his years. You gasped, rushing over to his bedside.
“Hey, kiddo” he wheezed, a smile creeping over his face despite the obvious effort it required, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
“Oh God, Lou, I was so scared…I thought you’d…” you took his hand in yours, unable to say the words out loud as the tears started again.
You felt like you’d cave in on yourself from the anguish, but a steadying hand found its way to your shoulder from behind you. Bucky squeezed once, a small reminder of his presence, then pulled his hand away. It was grounding, helpful.
“Hey there hon, I’m doin’ okay”, Lou rasped as he weakly tried to grip your hand in return. “But I guess this is a good reminder to lay off the bacon, huh?” he chuckled before the effort caused him to wheeze.
You smiled faintly and patted his hand, careful to mind the IV by his fingers, “you gotta start taking better care of yourself, okay? No more greasy breakfasts at work…”
He nodded slowly, his eyes flickering over to Bucky behind you, “you brought company…”
“Oh, yeah”, you turned to gesture to Bucky, “he sat with me and brought me dinner while I waited”.
Lou nodded, a flash of something in his eyes you couldn’t place. “You takin’ care of her?”
Bucky nodded in return, “of course”.
Lou inhaled deeply, “well…alright, I’m glad she’s not been by herself”, he begrudgingly offered. “I wouldn’t want her out in the cold…so to speak” he said pointedly, a clear reference to that awful night one year before.
“Rest assured…that would never happen,” Bucky responded coolly. “But I understand your concern”.
You watched as the two men stared at each other, something resembling an understanding seemed to lay between them.
💔
You sat with Lou for as long as you could before the doctor shooed you and Bucky out, explaining Lou needed to rest. You promised you’d be back tomorrow.
“Oh hon…no. Don’t waste your time on an old man like me,” he teased playfully.
“Oh, stop that. You know I’m going to be here with balloons and grapes, the whole shebang…” you grinned, putting your coat on.
“Good to see you, Lou” Bucky chimed in as he shook Lou’s hand, “you’ll be fighting fit in no time”.
Unbeknownst to you as you were busy with your bag and coat, Lou used a finger to beckon Bucky to move closer. Bucky obliged, leaning forward so that Lou could speak to him. His words were hushed but clear.
“Hurt her again and I’ll beat the living shit out of you. Bad ticker or not. And I don’t care how many of your goons you set on me…”
Bucky raised an eyebrow, but his expression betrayed no emotion, “understood”.
You turned, smiling obliviously at Lou just as Bucky stood back up to full height and cleared his throat. They both smiled back.
“See you tomorrow, Lou”.
“See you, kiddo”.
You left the room with Bucky trailing behind. As a small sob escaped your throat, his hand pressed firmly against your back. A small reminder that he’d shown up for you. He was there.
💔
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Pretty Demon
Summary: Nat keeps pestering you about not sleeping with someone you went on a date with and when you stormed off in a huff Nat tried to go to Wanda to read your mind, instead Wanda said she’d speak with you, hopefully she’d make you feel better
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, talking about virginity, Nat being annoying and Wanda being sweet, demon Y/n is not the big bad demon she’s portrayed to be (she’s big and scary really, everyone should be scared of her)
A/n: I wrote this while waiting for the vet at work in like 40 minutes so any mistakes or anything blame on the horse trying to off himself 😂 he’s fine though don’t worry
****************************************************
“So why didn’t you want to sleep with her? She sounds great” you and Nat were sat on the couch watching some weird movie that neither of you were paying attention to really, just eating popcorn and talking nonsense
“I don’t know she just…I don’t think she’s my type” your mumbling intrigued Nat, were you nervous? She sat up staring at you “not your type? She was hot, tall, hot and really into you, like she really wanted you”
You shrugged “too desperate, I can’t sleep with someone like that I need someone who isn’t desperate”
Nat laughed out loud throwing popcorn at you “that makes no sense! Come on Y/n what’s really going on? Do demons need to be married or something? Need their blood as a sacrifice?”
You shoved your friend off the couch standing up “don’t be weird Nat I just didn’t want to sleep with her okay? No other issue, I’m going to my room okay?”
You stormed off out of the room ignoring Nat and shutting your door hard behind you falling onto your bed
Wanda was awoken from her after mission nap by Natasha barging into her room “Wanda I need you to read Y/n’s mind and tell me why she’s being so bitchy at the minute with me”
Wanda slowly sat up rubbing her eyes free from sleep “it’s inappropriate to read someone’s mind without their permission Natalia” she groaned
Nat rolled her eyes “okay but somethings wrong and she won’t tell me”
“Why don’t you ask her?” It was a good suggestion but Nat wasn’t looking for good suggestions she wanted a quick solution “if I wanted my head bitten off by the demon underground equivalent of a mob boss then yeah I’d ask her what’s wrong but I want to keep my head”
Wanda was too tired for any of this nonsense so she relented “fine I’ll go and talk to her and then maybe, just maybe I’ll peek into her mind and see what’s wrong okay?”
Nat grinned hugging the witch “perfect! Thanks Wands” she left the room and Wanda followed making her way down to your room where she knocked and waited for an answer “come in Wanda” you said from your bed
She opened the door seeing you face down on the bed not even attempting to move “how’d you know it was me?”
“Your perfume has always stayed the same, cinnamon and something rose smelling I can never guess but I know that’s your main scent pretty much” sitting up you faced the witch and gave her a small smile patting the space next to you for her to sit which she did
“So did Nat send you?”
“Yeah…yeah she did, she’s just worried-
You scoffed “she’s being nosy, she wants to know why I didn’t sleep with the girl I had a date with last night”
Wanda listened, okay so her powers were being used for gossip, great “sorry Y/n she said she was worried but I didn’t know it was her being nosy, do you want me to leave?” She began to get up but your hand held her wrist keeping her in place “no it’s okay I- I like having you here, you’re very calming”
She smiled grabbing a hold of your hand and holding it in her own “I didn’t know demons liked comfort”
You giggled “we all need a little comfort sometimes”
“I think I want to tell you what’s wrong” you said after a few minutes of silence
Wanda nodded “okay, you don’t have to you know but I promise to keep it a secret if you want”
You sighed “okay it’s silly but the reason I didn’t sleep with the girl is because I haven’t-haven’t ever been with a woman, I was burned at the stake at 26 and obviously in those times being gay was unheard of and you had to be married and I don’t like men so I didn’t want to marry them then they killed me so-
“Hey hey darling it’s okay breathe with me okay?” She started to breathe in and out to help you, you obviously didn’t breathe but it was still helping you to calm down “thank you” you whispered and Wanda smiled “you’re welcome”
Wanda waited for you to calm down and started again “so, you’re a virgin?” You sighed looking away from the witch but Wanda didn’t let you, she used her fingers to pull your face around and focus on her
“Don’t get all shy on me honey, you’re a very powerful demon you can talk about anything without embarrassment you know?”
“That’s the problem Wanda everyone thinks I’m this big bad demon who slaughters anything in sight and drinks their blood and takes their hearts as trophies, then you have the other side which is people thinking I have sex with every woman I see, I come back here and Tony is instantly asking me how many women I did which I think is a little disrespectful actually, women aren’t objects you know?”
Wanda thought you were adorable like this, she’d never seen you be so open and it warmed her heart “Wanda? Are you okay?”
She smiled “yeah I’m okay, thank you for telling me all this, I promise not to tell anyone if you don’t want me too”
“Thanks Wanda, yeah we’ll keep this between us for now, I don’t need anyone thinking I’m not cool or anything” you both laughed out loud and you started to feel better, Wanda really was great to talk too and a good listener.
“So” she started, placing a hand on your leg rubbing it softly “have you kissed someone before?”
You nodded “yeah I have, I like kissing women but anything more is a bit daunting like what do I do first? Where do I put my hands? Do I take her clothes off or does she do it instead? How do I know if she’s enjoying it, she could be faking it like women in porn do”
Wanda pulled you into a surprising hug holding you close “please don’t worry about any of that Y/n when the time comes you’ll be ready and you’ll know what to do okay? I promise it’ll be okay don’t worry about it”
You let yourself relax into the hug curling into the witch holding your head in her neck “thank you Wanda” you whispered and the witch smiled “such a cuddly little demon aren’t you?
You growled pulling your head away from her neck “I’m the scariest demon ever what are you talking about” you showed off your fangs and Wanda rolled her eyes “soooo scary, anyway have you eaten dinner yet?”
“No I haven’t been hungry recently, I didn’t even eat much of the popcorn Nat made earlier”
Wanda raised an eyebrow “how long haven’t you eaten for?”
You shrugged putting your head down but Wanda forced it up to look you dead in the eyes “when was the last time Y/n?” Her stern voice made you feel something but you weren’t sure of what is was, you think you wanted it to happen again though
“Erm I don’t-I don’t know maybe last week someti-
Wanda stood up dragging you with her “woah! Wanda where-
“No! You haven’t eaten in a week what’s wrong with you?”
“I mean I’m obviously dead Wanda I don’t really need to eat just every now and then” Wanda wasn’t listening she was dragging you to the kitchen and forcing you to sit down on one of the stools “you should’ve told me you hadn’t eaten I would’ve cooked you dinner every night you know that”
She was scrambling around the kitchen making something for you, you saw her pull out some container with her paprikash, your stomach rumbled now, that was an absolutely favourite of yours
“You’re hungry now aren’t you darling?” You didn’t notice Wanda placing the food in front of you and handing you some utensils “now eat this and I’m going stay here the whole time so I know you’ve eaten it”
You happily took the fork and dug into the meal, you didn’t realise how hungry you actually were, this was the best thing you’d ever eaten and will ever eat, when you finished Wanda was quick to your side again.
Picking up the finished plate Wanda placed a glass of orange down on the side and took the plate away to put in the dishwasher “good?” She asked smiling and you nodded “I’ve definitely missed your cooking, I’m never not eating ever again”
You downed the drink and Wanda took the glass also putting it into the dishwasher “maybe I need to baby you from now on” 
“Probably, I’d be happy to come home and your waiting for me with a home cooked meal” you laughed but Wanda wasn’t laughing, she was deep in thought, when she turned around and took her place behind you her hands rested on your shoulders “I would take such good care of you honey, you’d never have to want for anything again you know?”
You didn’t respond just going through in your mind what was happening, was she being nice? Was she hitting on you? No she wouldn’t right? This seemed like a complete 180 if true
While you were thinking through this Wanda moved her face closer to yours whispering in your ear “don’t think so hard princess, I think you’re just the sweetest thing in the whole world, I’d love to take care of you and be yours and you be mine”
You blinked out of your thoughts and registered just how close she was to you and you nearly jumped out of your skin “er…isn’t this a little sudden?”
Wanda shook her head “I don’t think so princess, you nearly always come to me for advice, when we get home late from missions you near enough always come to my room to sleep, you say it’s because Tony’s sheets that he buys are scratchy and you don’t like them but really it’s because you like the comfort my cuddles bring you especially in winter or the heat goes out”
She turned you around on the stool and grinned at your blushed expression “I thought you said demons couldn’t blush”
You shrugged “it seems you know how to make me do things I thought I couldn’t do today, blushing is one of them”
Wanda glanced down at your lips and back up to your eyes “can I do something?”
You nodded “do whatever you want Wanda”
Wanda didn’t need anymore encouragement and leant forward kissing your lips lightly and you couldn’t move or reciprocate, when your brain finally caught up with you Wanda pulled back making you whine
“No I was gonna kiss you back I promise I just got nervous”
Wanda kissed you on the nose “shh detka it’s okay if you want to kiss me more we’ll have plenty of time later”
Your eyes widened “later?”
“Of course princess, I have a lot to teach you don’t I?”
You registered what she said and blushed “oh? Oh okay erm yeah, wait you’ve slept with women??”
The witch winked at you “you really think I’ve only slept with Vision?”
You thought about it “well yeah because we’ve never seen you with anyone else, also how did that work? He’s a robot sooooo?”
“Let’s not talk about that honey, I just want to focus on my pretty demon from now on”
She gave you a small kiss again and you giggled “I’m the pretty demon”
“Yes you are pretty girl”
*******************************************************
“What are you doing?” Natasha flinched slightly at Maria’s voice from behind her but kept her eyes focused watching you and Wanda in the kitchen
“Shhh Mia there’s something happening here”
Maria glanced around Nat to you sat on the stool and Wanda stood way to close to you to just be friendly “you’re not much of a spy are you? Wandas hand is on her thigh, if we stand here any longer they’ll start kissing”
At that the women saw Wanda lean forward and kiss you and both of their mouths dropped “woahhhhh” Nat exclaimed “that’s why she didn’t sleep with that girl on their date, she was waiting for the witch!”
Maria pulled Nat out of the kitchen and to the gym leaving you both alone “what the hell was that??”
Nat laughed “the little demon wants the witch, that’s hilarious”
“Isn’t Wanda a bit older than Y/n?” Maria questioned but Nat rolled her eyes “Y/n was 26 when she died in the Salem witch trials, she’s like 526 years old, she’s a lot older than Wanda it’s fine”
Maria thought that made sense “okay well I guess tomorrow will be interesting”
“I can’t wait for the morning meeting”
#marvel#wanda maximoff#mcu#wanda maximov#wanda maximoff x reader#natasha romanoff#marvel au#marvel imagine#demon reader#demon!y/n x wanda maximoff
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some would sing and some would scream
summary: your girlfriends are two of the best mob bosses in the city. you and natasha were out for a nightly walk, both feeling restless as you awaited wanda’s return from a business trip. it was going well, until someone got the jump on both of you.
pairings: WandaNat x Reader
warnings: blood, violence, knives, being tied up, stabbing, passing out
a/n: hey guys! here’s another one. i have no idea how mobs work, which is probably a good thing, but i hope it makes enough sense. second part, anyone? let me know what you think! wanda is barely here but is mentioned throughout.
Part 1 | Part 2
It’s been days since you and Natasha have seen Wanda. Days, maybe a week, since you were both taken by the henchmen of an enemy family; the Celestials. They have nerve, you’ll give them that, but you know as soon as Wanda and the rest of your family finds your location, they won’t know what hit them.
The metal chair is cold against your legs and the restraints around your wrists are digging uncomfortably into your skin. You know the more you struggle, the worse it will be, but you need to at least try. There are cuts on either cheek and one gash on your thigh- which is exposed because you decided to wear shorts that fated day. You started regretting your decision yesterday because they kept their torture room freezing, and although you reside in New York, the cold has never been- and never will be- your friend.
Natasha sits next you in a chair identical to yours. Her restraints are different, though, and it’s obvious the Celestials know how big of a threat she is. She’s continuously struggled to get out of them and your heart pangs in your chest because part of you knows it’s because she hates seeing you hurt.
Your girlfriend is safe from cuts and gashes and it’s all due to them wanting to get under her skin. They know of the relationship you share with the two powerful mob leaders, and they’re trying to use it to their advantage.
Natasha doesn’t break easily. Neither does Wanda. Everyone knows this, including you, but Nat barely lasted ten minutes when Najma- the leader of the Celestials- started dragging the knife across your thigh. She begged her to take her instead, but Najma was quick to assure that any torture you faced would be dragged out.
“Nat. Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep struggling.” Your firm voice cuts through the thick silence and leaves no room for argument. You’d stopped struggling five minutes ago when you realized it wouldn’t help, but Natasha kept it up and the redness around her wrists started to worry you.
“I need to get out before they come in again. Need to get you untied.” Her voice is gravelly and preoccupied, and her plight is obvious. The only thoughts swarming her head are about getting you out of there unharmed.
“And then what? You fight them off with nothing and we die trying to escape? We leave Wanda alone? She’ll never forgive us for that. We have to think about this, Natasha.”
You’re honestly surprised how calm you were, considering the situation. But you know Wanda is on a murderous rampage and Natasha is going through anger induced anxiety at the mere thought of either of you not making it out of this, so you’re left being the reasonable one.
“I am thinking about this, Y/N!”
Her chair clangs to a halt as she stops struggling with a frustrated huff. You know that if the two of you weren’t in the hands of your family’s greatest rival, then your girlfriend would let her tears flow free. The only sign that she had any intent of crying before she remembered where you were was her red nose.
“I’m thinking about it,” she says defeatedly, yet firmly. “Najma is going to come back any minute and she is going to harm you in unimaginable ways and I can’t stop her because I’m tied to this stupid fucking chair.”
“Natty,” you say softly, “look at me, please?”
God, you wish you could reach out and touch her. It takes a moment for her to find some semblance of composure so she can look you in the eyes instead of staring guiltily at the gash in your thigh.
“Listen to me, okay? I need you to hear me,” you start, waiting until Natasha subtly nods her head to continue, “You aren’t going to tell them anything. No matter what they do to me-”
“But-”
“No. Listen. Whatever they do to me, I need you to grin and bear it until Wanda gets here or you have a secure plan to get us out. It’s going to be painful for both of us, but I’m a big girl, I can handle it, okay?”
“Detka, I don’t know if I can-”
“Natalia. I knew what I was getting into the moment you and Wanda told me what you did for a living. I knew it would happen eventually. There’s only so much protecting my knights in shining fedoras,” you give her a gentle grin at your joke, “can do. I need you to promise me. No matter how much pain I’m in. We need to wait it out. That’s all we can do right now, my love.”
Natasha looks like she desperately wants to argue again, but you both know she’s only got so much fight left and she needs to save it for when Najma comes back. You try not to imagine what the leader of the Celestials has in store for you; which ways your body will be bloodied and scarred, but it’s hard when Natasha’s brain is going a mile a minute and the blood from the gash on your leg won’t stop dripping down your thigh.
“Do you remember our very first date?” You ask, a small smile on your face as you look up at your girlfriend.
“Malysh-”
“Nat, please. I can’t sit in silence.”
She sighs and looks away for a moment. To compose herself. You fear that sentence nearly sent her over the edge, but a moment later she nods.
“Like it was yesterday. Wands and I had thirty minutes to clean ourselves up after having gotten back from taking care of something. We were so worried we were going to be late, and so we texted you that work held us up for longer than we anticipated. You were so patient with us. You still are so patient with us.”
“Have to be with you two. Who knows what kind of trouble you got into when it was just the both of you parading around. Someone has to keep you in check, make sure you have something, someone to come home to. Both of you.”
“And we cherish every moment we get to spend with you, detka.”
Natasha says it so sincerely and it pushes you over the edge. Your eyes start watering and while it’s not a full-on sob, your tears do fall because you know where Natasha’s mind has gone. Where it has been this entire time.
Then, it feels as if all the air in the room is sucked out. All the love you felt from Natasha moments ago is gone when you see her face switch to one you had only seen a handful of times. Your girlfriends try to keep you out of the business as much as they can, but you were still privy to some things. Natasha’s expression looked distant and blank, and you hear clapping from the far right corner of the room.
Your heart sinks to your stomach, but you keep your features neutral.
Najma.
“Aw, how sweet. Quite a show you both put on. If this were reality television, my family would be rooting for you. Little lovebirds. It’s a shame your other girlfriend isn’t here. I’m sure it would spice things up.”
“If she were here, you would be dead already,” you snark.
“Dorogoy-” Natasha starts in warning, but Najma is quick to cut her off.
“It’s okay, Ms. Romanova. She won’t be able to... joke around much once I’m done with her. I must say, I have been quite lenient and I am a sucker for a love story, but I fear it is time to get some answers. So, every time you refuse to answer one of my questions, your little girlfriend here will endure some kind of pain. Haven’t decided yet. Won’t decide until that moment. Whatever feels right, I suppose. Nod to let me know you understand.”
Natasha nods.
Your eyes bore holes into the side of her head and you hope she hears your pleas. Your reminders.
“Good. We’ll start off easy, then.” Najma takes her knife out of her boot and slowly walks over to you. She places the tip on your upper arm. The way she’s looking at you, as if you were a turkey to be carved instead of eaten and enjoyed, chills you to the bone.
“What is your name?” Najma directs the question towards Natasha.
“Natasha Romanova-Maximoff.”
“Hm. That’ll do. What is your wife’s name?”
“Wanda Romanova-Maximoff.”
These were all answers that Najma knew already, and you’re unsure of why she’s wasting time. Not that you’re complaining. The more time she takes to interrogate Natasha, the more time Wanda has to find you both. The only name Najma shouldn’t know is yours. Natasha hasn’t once used it since you’ve been kidnapped, and you figure it’s for a reason. Your only family is the one you were welcomed into when you officially became Wanda and Natasha’s girlfriend, but your name not being out there kept you safer.
“And what is your girlfriend’s name?”
There it is.
You glance at Natasha, fully aware of the knife on your arm but deeming it safe enough to move the slightest amount. Natasha’s eyes catch yours and you don’t have to plead with her this time. Her decision was made the moment her green eyes met your own.
Keeping your name a secret gives both of you a better chance when Wanda breaks the both of you out of this place.
So, when Natasha moves her eyes from yours to look at Najma, you prepare yourself for the pain.
The redhead doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. Najma knows it isn’t a question she’s going to answer simply by the blank determination written across her face.
“Very well then,” the Celestial leader says, bored as she drags the knife slowly across your upper arm.
You stare at Natasha the entire time.
Natasha stares at your arm, and you know it is her way of punishing herself.
As if being locked in a freezing room with no way out wasn’t punishment enough. Your girlfriend forces herself to watch as one of her foes marks your body with their knife. Their torture.
It makes her angry and she clenches both her jaw and her fists to keep herself from pulling on the restraints, having learned her lesson twenty minutes earlier.
Wanda will never let her live this down.
You’re glad it’s not Wanda with you. She would have been able to kill everyone by now, but if they had put special cuffs on her and made her watch as they tortured you, you know she would have given everything up to ensure you lived.
You appreciate how much your girls love you, but the family wouldn’t have been able to take that kind of hit. So, you’re glad it’s Natasha who is with you, and maybe you’ll get the chance to reiterate that to Wanda someday soon. It will surely keep them from biting each other’s heads off while you’re recovering.
“Next question.”
You can hear the Cheshire Cat-like grin Najma wore as she placed the knife in a different spot on your body. This time, your thigh, about two inches higher than the first gash she gave you.
“Where is the Mind stone?”
Again, Natasha doesn’t answer and you audibly keel over in pain when the knife creates an identical gash to the one that came before it.
Again, Natasha watched the knife slide across your thigh.
“Hard eggs to crack, but I have only just begun.”
Now, Najma is in front of you and you barely have enough time to process the cool metal of the knife being dragged down your face. Your breathing is heavy, but you muster the most spiteful expression you can.
“I would really hate to see this beautiful face marred, Natasha. It would be such a shame. She could pose for those magazines. I hear it is great work, but enough small talk. Maybe I won’t have to mar your beautiful face, my little paaltoo.”
You decide then that you only like Urdu when Kamala speaks it.
“All Natasha has to do is give me the location of the Mind stone and your pretty little face will go unmarked. Don’t worry, it will only hurt a little bit. It’s more of a... reminder for your lovers.”
Even if your girlfriend’s face remains neutral, you can tell she’s seething on the inside. You glance at her for a moment and you know that you need to stall more. Enough for Wanda to find both of you. Nat can’t do anything but not answer Najma’s questions, and eventually Najma will tire of the game she’s playing. Who knows what that would look like? You doubt she would kill you quickly and undermine the work she’s already done on you, but if Najma doesn’t have something to quell her violent hunger, you don’t know what will happen to you or Natasha.
So, you have to keep Najma entertained. Interested. Piece of cake.
When you know that her focus is on Natasha’s expression and not your “pretty little face”, you send a guilty look to your girlfriend. Better to ask for forgiveness later. Then, you muster up all your courage and remember all the times you’ve seen Wanda and Natasha interrogate people, and you speak.
“What makes you think Natasha will talk? You’ve gotten this far and she hasn’t said a word. Maybe she doesn’t care about me as much as you think she does.”
“Mm, you’re not going to get me that easy my little paaltoo, I hear how she speaks to you. How she looks at you. And how she seethes every time my blade runs across your delicate skin. The love this woman holds for you is insurmountable. Don’t think me a fool.”
“You picked the wrong one.”
“Excuse me?”
Blood runs down the side of your arm and thigh and you’ve long forgotten how to feel the searing pain.
“The wrong girlfriend. You should’ve picked Wanda. Natasha is tough to crack but she’s been through a lot. Wanda, though? Wanda has a heart of gold and the sight of me in danger would have had her spilling all of her secrets. Or it would have sent her on a murderous rampage and we’d be out of here already, but you never know. All I’m saying is that Wanda would have given you so much more than Natasha ever will.”
Your nonchalance must have been jarring to both the women in the room, and you’re certain that Yelena, your best friend, would have been proud of you.
“I’m holding a knife to your face and you have the audacity to judge my methods?”
Najma pierces your skin with the point of the blade and it almost makes you laugh.
“What are you going to do? Kill me? You would lose leverage over Wanda and Natasha. You wouldn’t give that up so easily.”
“And what makes you think I couldn’t find something else they hold dear to them?”
“You would be searching for the rest of your life.”
It’s a big statement. Words that probably hold a lot more weight than anything you have ever said before, but you’re aware of what you mean to your girlfriends. How all of you balance each other out in ways that no one expects upon first meeting the three of you. In fact, you’re so certain of your feelings for them and vice versa, that if you make it out of this alive, then you’re going to propose to them.
Wanda would absolutely kill Natasha if you didn’t make it out of this alive. Guilt would eat both of them up, but better one of you makes it out than neither of you.
Another slash of the knife on your cheek and you can feel the sting of the blade as Najma follows all the way through with a flick of her wrist.
“Natasha, tell you girlfriend to shut up.”
“I’ve never listened to Natasha.” You’re a bit of a brat sometimes, it’s true. “Besides, I’m going to bleed out soon anyway. Then my lovely girlfriend won’t have anyone to talk to. That would be such a shame because I’m a gem.”
You decide then that you’ve stalled long enough, and really all you did was give your already gushing wounds time to bleed even more. The light headedness is starting to catch up to you and you sincerely hope that you’ve done enough.
Najma doesn’t pay any mind to your talking, probably realizing what exactly it is that you were doing, and instead she focuses on Natasha again.
“I will ask one more time.”
This time Najma positions the knife in front of your stomach and you don’t know if she’s going to stab you or cut you, but you’re not sure she knows either. Frantic green eyes lock onto yours as you get a good look at Natasha. Your eyes are calm as you try memorize everything from the way her braid sits on the side of her shoulder to the perfect shape of her lips. Fear pulses through you and you know that somehow it is not entirely your own, but you shake your head all the same.
You will not be the reason your family falls. You will not be the reason that Wanda and Natasha have no home to go back to.
“Where. Is. The Mind stone?”
Nat’s eyes are pleading but yours remain blank and you know she has to bring forth years and years of training to look away from you and instead at Najma. So the woman holding the knife can see the defiance in her eyes along with her lips pursed in a straight line. Natasha isn’t going to say a word.
The knife plunges into your left side and you don’t scream, you aren’t going to give your captor that satisfaction, but the sound you do make is enough to have Natasha looking away and a single tear rolling down her cheek. To your confusion, though, Najma doesn’t withdraw the weapon. She leaves the blade inside of you and brushes off her hands before grabbing you by the chin so you can look directly in her eyes.
“Don’t breathe too hard, my little paaltoo, otherwise a vital organ will be caught and I would so love to torture you more later.”
With that, she lets go of you and walks out. You think that having to look into that woman’s eyes was worse than any of the torture she’s inflicted on you.
“Natty,” you breathe, voice worn and your eyes wanting to shut already. You’ve never been stabbed before and the pain plus your other wounds is too much.
“Detka, I’m so sorry,” Natasha’s voice breaks and your heart aches for her.
“Shhh. Don’t apologize, my love.” Breathing is starting to get really hard. “Natty I need to tell you something.”
“Anything, malyshka.”
You know Nat is desperate to keep you talking. Keep you awake. Alive. You don’t want to give up just yet. Wands will be here soon, you can feel it.
“I think,” your head lolls to the side for a moment, “I think I only,” you breathe in and out, “like Urdu when Kamala,” you swallow because your mouth feels really dry all of a sudden, “speaks it.”
“Me too, detka. Me too.”
You can feel yourself fading, and you don’t think the knife has hit anything vital yet, but maybe a nap would help lessen the pain. Just a quick one.
Your head lolls forward and it jostles the blade a little. You can hear Natasha’s panic, how her voice wavers and breaks as she addresses you.
“Detka, baby, you’re doing so good for me, love. You’ve done so good. I need you to hold on just a little bit longer, okay? Just a little longer. For Wanda. Please, baby. Need you to stay awake.”
You blink your eyes open and muster enough strength to look up at her.
“I’m so tired, Natty.”
“I know, baby. I know, but I need you for just a little longer, okay?”
“I don’t know if I can, Natty.”
Breathing hurts and blood is sticky. Your head once again droops forward.
“Please. Please, Y/N!”
Natasha’s cries are suddenly drowned out by the door opening. You assume it’s Najma, because even in your drowsy state, you didn’t miss the fact that Natasha screamed your name.
But then there’s an explosion and you’re able to open your eyes just enough to see swirls of scarlet red surrounding the room. You can’t hang on any longer, but you hope that Wanda and Natasha will forgive you as you finally let your eyes close all the way and your body slump forward in the metal chair you were tied to.
The last thing you felt was Natasha’s hands on you, trying to wake you up, and the last thing you heard was Wanda’s agonizing screams.
#wandanat x reader#natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff#they're all having a really great time#reader goes through it#wanda is never going to let natasha live this down#wanda will also never let reader out of her sight ever again#natasha won't either
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new purchase
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Mob! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You just got a new expensive lingerie set and decided to tease your mafia boss boyfriend with some sexy pictures.
Word count: 2.3K
Warnings: modern setting, mafia boss bucky, established relationship, nude photos, dom bucky, smut, vaginal sex, mirror sex, lingerie kink, hair-pulling, doggy style, butt slapping, dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie.
Author's note: I'm back🥹 Tumblr blocked my account again, but thank God support replied and everything is fine now. put community labels if you don't want to end up like me lol. I'm returning to re-upload everything. thank you for the support💞💞
As soon as the message from you popped up on Bucky’s screen, he was no longer involved in the conversation with his people, who were reporting on the situation that got a few men killed.
No, now his eyes were glued to the screen of his phone. To the photo that you sent him, to be exact. You were standing in front of the mirror in the new blue lingerie set that Bucky definitely hadn't seen before.
“miss you, baby.”
Bucky took a deep breath, studying every little thing in the photo—from your half-hidden smile to the soft skin of your legs and stomach—and noticing the way your boobs were perfectly sitting in that almost see-through bra. Fuck, to be right now on top of you instead of sitting here was a dream. You knew what effect you had on him and that Bucky loved your expensive lingerie, but he couldn't just leave now, right? Controlling Brooklyn was not easy, especially when some brave idiots tried to threaten him.
“please, Jamie…”
Another text message with an attached picture appeared in front of him, and his pants immediately became much tighter. Now it was from another angle. You were on the bed on your hands and knees, your spine perfectly arched to show your round ass in just a little piece of fabric that shouldn’t even be considered underwear.
Flashbacks from all the times Bucky was holding your hips while thrusting into you from behind filled his head and he almost wanted to moan out loud. No, it was impossible to listen to whatever Peter was saying, especially when it was the first time you sent such photos.
“You better stay in this position, baby. I'm coming.” He typed quickly before suddenly getting up from his fancy leather chair, making the whole room go quiet.
“D-did I say something wrong, boss?” Peter’s face became white. Bucky probably looked really angry right now, but only because he couldn't touch you and bury himself in your heat at that exact moment.
“I didn't listen, Parker. I need to go; finish here without me. Steve, you're responsible.” Bucky took his jacket and stormed out of the room without another word.
***
You were walking around the bedroom in nervousness, as if it were your first time waiting for Bucky from work. But now something was different, though. You knew that he was busy, and you hated disturbing him, but after looking in the mirror at yourself for too long, you got so confident and bold that you decided to text him with photos, which you had never done before.
Your best friend Nat took you out shopping, but even though Bucky always gave you his card and told you to buy whatever you wanted, you never actually did it. Until you saw that unbelievably beautiful blue set. Bucky went crazy every time you had new pieces, but they weren’t as expensive as this one because you always bought them with your own money. Your friend basically shoved you into the changing room and convinced you that it cost every single penny, so you gave up and used Bucky’s black card.
The loud noise of the slammed door came from the first floor, and you knew that your boyfriend had come home. Fuck, it has been only 15 minutes since he messaged you, and he was already there.
You sat at the edge of the king-size bed, facing the door. And in just a few seconds, heavily breathing and slightly annoyed, Bucky stood in the door frame. If you hadn’t been dating him for almost a year now, you would’ve thought that he was angry, but the way he licked his lips and the look in his eyes while he was scanning your almost naked body told you otherwise.
“You’re such a fucking tease, babydoll. I had an important meeting, and you just had to send me those photos, huh?” Bucky grinned at you, taking off his expensive jacket and rolling up the sleeves of the white shirt. He took small steps toward you, but you were too focused on his tattooed and veiny forearms to notice it.
You blinked only when a soft but firm hand pressed under your chin, making you look Bucky in the eyes. The realization of how ridiculously wet you were hit you hard, and Bucky probably saw the way your cheeks blushed because his lips curled in a one-sided smirk.
“You’re looking like the sexiest thing on the planet, but you’re blushing. God, you’re amazing, baby.” His eyes slid down your body, covered in a thin lace, and you swore that his eyes darkened within a second.
“I just thought that I became wet by just looking at your hands.” Bucky growled at your words. He took both of your hands into his, silently asking you to stand up from the bed. "Sorry for bothering you at work, I just... I don’t know.”
“I don’t care about work as long as I can see my amazing girlfriend looking so incredible. Is this new? I know every single piece of clothing that you own; I’ve never seen this before.”
“Nat convinced me to buy this... from your card. I hope you don’t mind." Bucky chuckled at your words.
“I told you a million times to buy whatever you wanted. My money is your money, ‘key? Now spin for me.” He lifted your hand above your head, helping you to spin around and show him every little detail of your new purchase.
The bra, which perfectly lifted your boobs, so they seemed nice and round. Matching lacy blue thongs and a garter belt that was attached to the tights sat on your waist, showing every curve of your hips. There was nothing left for imagination. You looked so soft, delicious, and sexy, but those cute little flowers all over the fabric made Bucky want to destroy you.
“So pretty, goddammit. I need you right now.” He firmly grabbed one side of your face, connecting your lips in a hot and messy kiss, while the other hand trailed its way from your neck down to your soaking wet panties. “Still can’t believe that you’re mine. The most beautiful woman on the whole fuckin’ planet.” Bucky growled into your lips, refusing to let you go. “Is that all for me? Are you so wet because of your naighty little photos or from my hands? Tell me.” Two fingers run up and down your covered folds, making you moan into Bucky’s mouth from the stimulation.
“Both… Jamie, please. I need you.” You tried to grind your hips on his hand, but Bucky gripped your thigh and lowered his mouth onto your hot neck.
“‘M not gonna let you get off on my hand, not today. You teased me with those sexy pictures, so I think it would be fair if I just fucked you senseless. That’s what you asked me to do anyway, right?” You just eagerly nodded, hoping that Bucky would do anything. The heat in the lower half of your stomach was almost painful, and you felt awfully empty inside, squeezing around nothing with every kiss Bucky had left on your sensitive skin. “Should I bend you over the bed? Or maybe on the floor in front of the mirror so I could see how good you feel when I fuck you?” He asked mostly himself.
Bucky pulled away from you, admiring fresh red marks on your collarbones and neck and already knowing that you'd blame him in the morning before work. His lips were swollen and his hair was a mess, but you still bit your lip at how sexy and pretty he was. Lately, you didn’t spend much time together because of his job, and now you wanted to spend every second admiring and touching him.
“I don’t care, Buck. I just want you, I miss you.” Your hands flew to the collar of his shirt, opening every button until his tanned chest was on full display.
“Get on your knees and hands, doll.” Bucky mumbled, and you knew that he had lost all of his patience.
You lowered yourself on an expensive white rug and teasinly moved your ass from side to side, looking at Bucky through the mirror. His eyes stuck on your body, and he licked his lips once again. You saw the way his pants were barely holding the hardness behind them, and your mouth instantly started watering from that thought.
“Are you going to fuck me or keep starring at my ass?”
He smirked at your words and fell onto his knees behind you, slightly pushing his covered hips into yours and making you both moan.
“Oh, I am going to fuck you? Don’t worry about that, doll.” The sudden slap on your ass cheek made you loudly gasp; your mouth stayed slightly open as Bucky was massaging your burning cheek with one hand and unbuckling his pants with the other.
You felt the silky-soft skin of his cock between your legs when Bucky ran his length on your wet panties. “It’s too pretty, I don’t wanna take it off of you. ‘M just gonna push them to the side.” He took your underwear out of his way, lining the leaking tip with your wet entrance.
You couldn’t stay steel, so Bucky had to grab your hair, raise your head, and perfectly arch your back. You whined at the slight pain from his grip, but it soon turned into a loud mixture of a moan and Bucky’s name when he pushed inside of you.
It never failed to amaze both of you how perfect you were for each other. The sex was incredible every single time. Your body instantly adgasted for his size; your wet and soft folds gripped his cock firmly, as if your body didn’t want him ever to leave. Bucky honestly didn’t even remember the sex before you; at that time he thought it was nice, but since the first night with you, everything has become blurred, and he couldn't look at any other woman in a sexual way anymore.
“Fuck-fuck-fuck, James!” You cried, squeezing him harder and gripping the soft material under your hands.
“Holy shit, doll. Your pretty pussy ‘s taking me so well; she’s so greedy for my cock.” Bucky slapped your ass again at the same time as he bottomed out in you. You tried to stay focused on the reflection in the mirror, but that teasing little push of Bucky’s hips right into your g-spot made your eyes roll back. "What? You can’t handle it, baby? But that's what you asked for. You thought that you could just send me these things and not get fucked like a naughty little girl?” He chuckled, immediately increasing the speed of his thrusts.
“I just wanted you, J-Jamie, fuck!” You cried at another slap on your ass. Red hand prints were already visible, and you knew that it would be hard to sit the next day. “I need to cum, please…”
“Already drunk with my cock?” Bucky chuckled, slightly squeezing your hair in his hand, until you opened your hooded eyes and looked at him in the mirror. “Look at you, always so perfect for me.” His blue eyes studied your reflection. Your still covered in bra tits bounced every time he pushed his cock inside of you, and Bucky felt like he became even harder because of the fact that he couldn’t see you fully naked.
It felt like he wanted to split you in half with the power of his movements. Your skin slapped into each other, and the wet sounds of your pussy were almost too loud and inappropriate for you, but Bucky didn’t care. He moved fast and hard, mumbling praise words under his breath, which you barely understood, being too close to cum.
“Bucky, ‘m gonna cum… Please, let me cum, ‘m so close.” You loudly moaned when your body started trembling and your hands were almost too weak to hold you up.
“Do it, doll. I’m right behind you. Cover my cock in your cum.” Your mouth fell open, and your eyes instantly closed when you finally came, clenching around him. Bucky looked closely as your face expression changed—it was his favorite thing.
He pushed into your tight cunt a few more times before freezing as his own orgasm came. You moaned at the feeling of his hot seed feeling you from the inside.
“Just like that, doll. You did so well.” Bucky soothed the skin of your thigh and reddish cheek, finally loosening the grip on your hair. Your hands couldn’t hold you up anymore, and you collapsed on the soft rug with a muffled puff.
Bucky slightly chuckled, slipping out of you, and flipped over your exhausted body so you could face him. You both were flushed and slightly sweaty. Bucky brushed your hair from your face and lowered himself to catch your lips in a slow kiss. You wrapped your arms around his strong shoulders until he fell on top of you.
“I’ll call Nat so she can take you shopping tomorrow. Use my black card and get yourself everything that you like, because now I want to see you in every possible shade and variation of lingerie, doll.” Bucky mumbled near your ear while his hands traced the soft skin of your ribs and stomach.
“I don’t want to spend your money, James.” You laughed.
“Then I’ll give my card to Nat, so she can spend it on you. Because I won’t leave you alone anymore, doll. You drive me crazy looking like this.” He started kissing your neck, going lower to your chest. You just sighted, knowing damn well that there’s no point in arguing and that your amazing boyfriend would find a way to make you buy more lingerie. “Are you ready for round two? Because I really wanna put those pretty tits in my mouth.”
Whatever you wanted to say died on your tongue with the first touch of Bucky’s wet tongue, and your brain went completely blank.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky x you#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you
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i think its a good day to simp- i mean think about mob!nat don't you agree? 🥺 i miss my mean, possessive, constantly packing, loves humiliating their slut, competitive, and brat spoiling mafia boss 🥺
mob nat!!! yes my baby my meanie she luvs her little brat so much and would kill anyone who tried to hurt them
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im such a sucker for mob boss!nat because like, badass woman who can kill someone quickly, but i've been thinking of serialkiller!nat with innocent!bestfriend!reader. Like hear me out real quick? You're completely oblivious to who the woman beside you is, she works alone, and word has spread that there's a killer on the loose and whats more odd? Its people you all know that went missing to be found dead in the city. Your poor neighbor is gone; you found out she was killed when the police came by to interview you and you were shaken and in tears because not only was your neighbor the sweetest, she brought treats like cookies and pie over because you struggled to cook sweet treats. After the police were gone Natasha shows up afterwards everytime to soothe you. Imagine Natasha asking you frequently weird questions like, "What would you feel if I slaughtered you right now?" And you do nothing but try to laugh it off, anxious enough to go "Funny joke," and you don't even know she's joking. But she always affirms at the end, "Don't worry princess, I'd never kill you," And you totally believe her because Natasha has grown to be the woman in your circle, the first person to go to when a situation rises at work, the person to go to when your friends ghost you (after they get terrifying messages from a blocked number with threats about interacting with you) and its always her that you end up cuddling with at the end of movie nights and refuse to let her go because this? This is all she wants. Just you. It also isn't the fact that she is always there when you aren't in the right mindset, you feel shitty and wanna end it all? Natasha randomly shows up and does stupid activities with you. And she shows up with your favorite snacks And the only time you find out is when she takes advantage of your drunk mind, and shes lazily thrusting her fingers up into your cunt and all you hear is, "Mmm, I wonder how your friends would've felt if they were in my position right now. But it's too bad they can't, I had to forcibly get rid of those who was in my way, blood in my hands or not," and you're too even cumdrunk to even recognize what she said, too focused on the pleasure that she openly admitted to killing all of those close to you. ugh, i might write this, might not.
#natasha romanoff smut#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#sapphic#smut#marvel#⟡ cubby yapping
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could i request a mob nat oneshot from that universe seeing nat as a mom to her kid? it says we have a kid and it doesn’t need to be overly fluffy or anything… just curious what this badass mob boss looks like as a mom
HAPPINESS
WARNINGS: a bit of violence, gunshots, cute family moments, brief angst, fluff
RELATIONSHIP: natasha romanoff x f!reader
a/n: lol me after not posting for months 😅
AU: Darkest Nights
You wake up to the sounds of laughter in the bedroom, turning, you notice the side beside yours on the bed is empty. Where were the noises coming from? You sat up on the bed to see Natasha on the floor, a batman action figure in her hand and a toy car in the other. Her red hair was up in a loose braid and you could barely see the front of her face properly, but the one face you did see was a baby boy. Well – not really a baby more like a toddler. Except he wasn’t turning two for another few months. His chubby, rose-tinted cheeks were puffed up and small but loud giggles erupted from him. Natasha heard rustling from the bedsheets and looked up at you to see that you were already up. “Did we wake you up, babe?” she asked, her eyes were on you but she still kept her focus on the baby, making sure he wasn’t putting anything he wasn’t supposed to in his mouth. Some toys they make for babies are too small, Alex was teething and liked chewing on his toys sometimes.
The corners of your lips curled into a smile, “No,” you chuckled, moving your hair strands away from your face. “It’s past 10, I was bound to wake up by now.” You reassure her. “Oh, good – I mean, it’s just you looked peaceful. For once.” you narrow your eyes as you throw the blanket that was draped over your body off yourself. “And who’s fault is it that I’m never at peace?” you retorted, getting up from the bed. She winced, “sorry, krasivaya.” you laughed at the sarcasm that lied beneath her words and lightly threw a smaller pillow from the bed towards her. “Jerk.” she caught the pillow and set it next to her, “c’mere, baby.” her arms were long enough to reach up to your hips while you were folding the blankets. Alex squealed, his stubby little hands moved up and down in agreement. “See, even our son wants mommy to play with us.” Natasha said, her hands grabbed onto your hips and pulled you to the carpet on the floor. “Natasha!” you shouted, playfully shoving her hand away, as she burst out laughing, the baby didn’t know any better and laughed along with her.
“You’re unbelievable. I hope you know that.” she smirked at what you had said before responding, “I think I’m believable enough, how else is–” you interrupt her, “whatever you’re going to say, don’t say it. I’m positive it isn’t appropriate.” Natasha’s hand rested on your shoulder, “Okay, I’m not that bad.” she paused, “maybe.”
“Momyy!!” Alex mustered up a word, sliding his mini spiderman toy over to you. “You want mommy and mama to play with you, lovebug?” you smile, grabbing the toy and giving it back to him. He nodded. “Alright, you can be little spiderman, mama will be batman and –” you turn to Natasha, “what will I be?” you ask. “And mommy’s barbie!” she excitedly says to the boy as she hands you a barbie doll. “A happy family, aren’t we?” she cupped your face before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m barbie? Seriously?” she grinned without a thought, “no, you’re prettier than barbie, baby.”
“You’re such a sweet talker, darling.” you turned your attention back to Alex, dramatically gasping before speaking once more. “Oh my goodness, where's spiderman’s car?” the baby gasped as if he was missing a car, “oh look! There it is!” you gave the car to Natasha before Alex got the chance to grab it from you.
“Oh, no! Batman stole your car, spiderman. Go steal it back from him!” you accused Natasha and pointed at her, immediately, Alex crawled over to her and started to lightly punch her, in a poor attempt to get his car back. Which of course, didn’t do much to her at all. “You can’t have this car, it’s mine now, spiderman!” Natasha took the car in her hand and raised it up in the air to where the boy couldn’t reach.
The sound of glass shattering pulled both you and Natasha away from playtime. “Natasha, wh—” you heard it again, except this time you saw the window beside your nightstand break. “Get the gun under the bed and take Alex.” her voice was stern, as if she was ordering you. Your eyes widened as fear crept up your spine, “Natasha, what was that?” you heard it again, but this time there wasn’t any glass to stop the noise, it was clear that it was a gunshot. You pulled a box from under the bed and took a pistol out, grabbing Alex into your arms, you slowly stood up to not gain attention from movement in the bedroom. “Darling, I– where will we go?” unshed tears pooled in your eyes as your bottom lip quivered, “as of now, go to the bar. Look for Yelena, and she’ll know where to take you.”
You gently touched her arm, “Are you not coming with us?” she shook her head, “it’ll cause too much commotion, they’ll know you’re with me. I’ll find you. I’ll find you both. Don’t worry, baby.” you blinked back the tears to stop them from dropping, “Nat. you said this wouldn’t happen, you promised that they weren’t going to find us… I thought we were finally getting back to our normal lives!” she pulled the both of you close, kissing your forehead, cheeks, the top of the baby’s head. “I know, I’m sorry, baby, I’ll fix this. I’m so sorry, I love you both, so much. Trust me, I’ll deal with them and we’ll come back together before you can blink, krasivaya.” Natasha kissed your lips once more, “I love you.” she wiped away your tears, “don’t die.” the smile you had faltered for a moment when you said that, knowing that there could be a possibility that for an instance something could go completely, and terribly wrong. “I won’t. C’mon, you know me better than that, baby.” you let out a dry chuckle at her trying to lighten the mood. “Go. I’ll be back.” Natasha’s protective hold was gone, you simply nodded. Another gunshot could be heard from the other side of the house, you didn’t want Alex to cry so you covered his ears. “I love you too.”
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