Antonella✨

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves ❤ Here’s the new chapter, I hope you like it and please don’t forget to tell me what you think of it! kisses!❤

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Aftermath of a break up is never easy.

Warnings: Violence, death, crime, explicit language, dysfunctional relationships, drinking, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

You had never been the type to deal with break ups easily, but this?

This was something else, and he wasn’t making it any easier for you.

It had taken you a couple of days. Now, even a month later, you found it hard to get out of the bed or keep yourself together but at least now you weren’t bursting into tears while you were working, which all your friends said was a good improvement.

They didn’t need to know that you spent almost every night crying yourself to sleep.

Bucky, however? He had a whole different approach to this break up.

    ( the final chapter’s gif is by @buckysbarnes​​​​ from this beautiful set ! )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  10/10

summary: the end of the beginning.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 5.1k, capping this entire fic off at 50k

a/n: this chapter has smut! be warned! and for now, the beginning of bucky & rabbit’s story has finished. it’s not the last you’ll see of them, but i hope you’ve all enjoyed their story as much as i have. :,)

     (   PREVIOUSLY   |    AO3    |    MASTERLIST   )

That bonsai tree looks different.

…Maybe it’s you.

I mean, you’re certainly different. You feel different. The last time you busied yourself with staring at that lovely little tree, Bucky Barnes wasn’t an unwavering fixture in your life, you weren’t some off-brand sort-of-sidekick, and up until that point in your life you’d never been shot — so safe to say the last few weeks have changed a few things.

You weren’t hopelessly in love with Bucky Barnes back then, either.

The waiting room feels smaller.

oh yummy 🤤🤤 he’s all buff and looking like a big fuck toy sitting in his chair looking over some notes he’s taking about some random ass table he wanted, but didn’t need, to build. his leg in pouncing and you’re just watching him so immersed, knowing he’s actually loving whatever it is he’s looking at even if he’s got an adorable pout settled on his lips.

his tattoos...fuck those damn thigh tattoos. they taunt you at the worst of times. all you wanted to do was eat your damn pancakes. it was 11am for God’s sake on a Sunday at that. but he just looked so...delicious. you loved when he built, there was something so sexy about him totally in his element and knowing exactly what to do and when to do it. there was only one other place he was that in tune, and you’re wanting to go back to that certain place right now in your mind.

“whatcha need pretty girl?” he mumbles as you patter over to his hunched frame at the dining room table, scribbling a measurement correction on the sheet in front of him. you had long forgotten about your pancakes, setting them on the counter before you lazily trotted to his tanned, toned body you could never get enough of, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and neck, leaning your chin on his shoulder to watch his hand move across the paper.

“you look good this morning,” you whisper with a grin, knowing he knows what you mean by “good”. he looks fuckable.

“hmm good huh?” he smirks up at you over his shoulder, tapping the eraser of his pencil against the white piece of paper, knowing where this is leading and having no qualms about it. he needed a little break. he got a little worked up when someone wasn’t working out the way he wanted it to.

“mhmm,” you hum, leaning forward to kiss at his neck, up and down, lower to his collarbone, and back up just below his ear. his goosebumps told you he loved the tender attention, “so good.”

he’s still now, eyes closed, relishing the smushy but lovely feeling of your lips pressed to so much of his over and over again. if they was one thing about grayson you know, it was that neck kisses were one of his greatest weaknesses. his thigh resumes it’s bouncing for just a moment, thinking of his next move. you let your arms fall from his shoulders just as he drops the wooden pencil to the table, forgotten already. he’s pushing the chair from the table and turning to you, grasping your hips, drawing you in to stand between his legs.

grayson more times than not, knew exactly what you wanted, what you felt, what you needed. with just a look he could tell you craved him - craved his hands, his touch that always satisfied all your desires on every occasion they were needed. 

“you look ravishing,” he mutters, licking his red stained lips - he was a fan of koolaid - something you thought was adorable. if you weren’t paying close enough attention, you would have missed it. the awestruck look that crossed his face was enough to make you shiver from your shoulders to your toes, bouncing once, twice, on your tiptoes to give him a little insight on the fact that you aren’t wearing a bra under his own white t-shirt. teasing him was your favorite pastime. his eyes caught notice quickly. you watch his hands closely, traveling from your hips, slowly upwards - gliding under your shirt to grip onto your tits possessively, a hunger rooted deep in his expression. he watched his own hands squeeze at your breasts, tweaking your nipples to watch you squirm and grab at his forearm - sensitive little one you were. 

“what do you need baby?” he asks you again, sultry voice buzzing at your nerves. your pussy clenches at his dominant tone, he wanted an answer, not an action but an answer. all you wanted was him. 

“need you s’bad,” you whimper, rubbing at his chest nervously. his muscles were clear through the fabric of his shirt, something you’ve always admired when you had the chance. but - he was busy and in the middle of something, meaning there wasn’t much time for anything too serious. but you just needed something, you didn’t care what. you would do all the work if you had to. 

“i don’t have much time,” he tells you, disappointment dripping from his voice. he had a lot to get done, not that he wanted to do any of those things over fucking your beautiful body, but he did need to get his tasks done for the day. he knew he would have you all to himself after, but it pained him to know he had to wait. but if there was one thing he’s sure of, it’s that he would never leave his girl hanging. if you needed him, you had him. 

“i know gray i just- need a little-” you’re fumbling, but are soon silenced with a kiss. it’s a soft, patient kiss. one that has you melting into a puddle. his lips moved at a languid pace, one hand wrapped around your neck to hold you in place, other hand still cupping your left breast, thumb playing with your sensitive nub. 

“how about a little ride yeah? wanna ride my thigh? get that pretty pussy off?” he murmured, smirking as you nodded your head quickly, eyes gazing up at him innocently. 

you loved riding grayson’s thigh. it was one of your biggest sexual desires...his tanned, muscular, tattooed thigh between your legs while you ground your cunt against his skin - for merely your pleasure. his hands...always guiding your hips to the right rhythm, gripping your skin tightly just to leave crescent shaped indentation behind. 

you’re nodding eagerly at his suggestion, blinking slowly at his hands hooking in the waistband of your panties, tugging them down the length of your wobbly legs to be discarded on the floor.  you’re drenched, arousal making the skin on the inside of your thighs to be slick and slippery - the perfect recipe for a good thigh ride. you couldn't wait for him to just sit down and let you have at it.  

his eyes never wavered, dark irises burning into your own that watch his every move close. you stood still under his stare, waiting for him to lean back and pat at his inked, chiseled thigh - the perfect canvas for your pussy. 

“c’mon baby, show me how much you need me.” he encouraged you forward with a tug on your shirt, dragging you to stand with your legs spread over his thigh - his shorts pushed up just enough to give you free reign, “gotta be fast, i have work to do.” 

with a quick peak over his shoulder at the paper he scribbled upon - grinning at the beautiful looking table he was probably creating in the backyard - you’re lowering yourself steadily to his thigh, sighing at the friction that’s already stimulating your core. 

“oh my god,” you breathe, a shaking hand on his shoulder, eyes closed, unmoving. you just needed...a minute. to breathe, to get yourself under control so you don’t fall apart within the first few minutes. he drove your crazy, especially with the view of his tool belt sitting on the table behind him. that fucker knew what he was doing. he’d fucked you with that tool belt on before. don’t ask. it was a one time deal and you couldn’t wait. it had also been one of the hardest orgasms of your life - in the backyard, the blazing sun of california warming your skin, his hands all over you, sweaty for building all day. fuck it made you tremble just thinking of it. 

he’s grabbing your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes, lips millimetres away, his breath fanning over your own, “i know it feels good baby, move for me, be my good girl.” oh fucking christ.

that’s all you needed to press yourself down onto him fully, intertwining your fingers with his for balance and support. it felt more intimate, riding him with your hands locked together - his thumbs rubbing against your skin, like he was the lifeline keeping you afloat for the time being. you hissed at the fine hairs on his thigh tickling at your folds - only causing that much more friction for you to shiver at.

“w-woah,” you gasp at the motion of his leg, bouncing on his toe just to give you more stimulation. your throwing your hips in a frantic forward-back motion, the fastest pace you’ve set in a long time, your clit seeming to scream from how good it felt to grind on it’s lovers leg - your hand coming to his neck, squeezing tight. he grins at that, a dark little “naughty girl” leaving his lips jsut before he’s slapping his hands down on your ass harshly, forcing you to run against him faster.

“fuck fuck fuck,” you’re whining, “that feels so- god that feels so good gray jesus,” head falling against his shoulder. your hand still wrapped firmly around his throat, you squeeze, his chuckle making you smile. such a dirty bitch, he thought with triumph. you’d always been the ‘sweet lover’ kind of girl before meeting grayson - he opened you up to a world of sin and you’d never be able to go back after.

“look at that eager cunt dripping all over my leg. mmmm yeah such a big mess baby, so good for me,” he nudges at your chin with his nose, wanting to feel your lips on his once again - kissing you was his drug. it always made him feel like a man, your little body so pliant in his hands, his lips the best you’ve ever felt.

you reach down to toy with graysons fingers, batting your eyelashes at him with your lip between your teeth, continuing the fluid motion of your hips. he knows what you want but you still give him a little, “please,” to be polite.

“mhmm need daddy’s fingers too huh? wanna suck on my fingers?” he chuckles, your neediness hilarious for some reason. you were so fucking hot, but so desperate for him all the time. it made his ego grow each and every day that you convinced him he was the only one for you. and he was. you couldn’t imagine needing, loving, wanting anyone else. you couldn’t imagine anyone else satisfying all your needs like grayson did. he was a one stop shop.

he’s raising his fingers to your mouth within seconds, your hand flying back up to grip around his throat once again, fingers digging into his skin desperately. his thigh felt so fucking good, hard and soft in all the right ways, his leg bouncing into your clit making it that much harder not to come undone right then and there. you wanted to go just a little bit longer if you couldn’t have all of him until tonight. just looking down at his massive dick straining through his pants, hard as can be, was driving you up the wall.

the memory of him pounding you against this very table a few weeks ago flashing through your mind - your lips wrapping firmly around two of his fingers to suck and swirl your tongue, truly putting on a show. you’re getting closer and closer, climbing up that beautiful hill of euphoria with each rock and sway of your hips.

“maybe if you’re a good girl and cum for me, i’ll fuck you on the new table i’m building,” grayson tells you softly, catching your gaze with a smirk. that fucker. you grind yourself down harder and harder, the faster your hips move - the harder you suck.

“fuck,” you attempt to scream around his fingers as you hit your peak, falling off the edge and into the blissful darkness of your climax - legs shaking around his thigh. you gasp at the burst of wetness coming from deep within you, spraying out onto the ink on his skin, dripping in small puddles onto the floor. well that’s new. your hand falls from around his neck where you had been squeezing tightest of all. you’d be worried, but grayson was a big boy and didn’t bat an eyelash. his own fingers are slipping from your mouth as well.

“god damn...didn’t know you could do that,” grayson chuckles, slapping your ass proudly, continuing to rock you through your orgasm, just a little dip to your hips to keep you moving, jolts shooting through your midsection.

with a little huff you’re leaning into him, wrapping your arms around his torso and tucking your face into his neck, trying to get as close to him as you could.

“holy shit,” you sigh finally, a tiny giggle bubbling up from your chest, hugging at him tighter as a thank you for taking some time out of his busy building day to help you find some relief. you’re always so hungry for him in the morning.

looking over at the clock hanging on the wall in the dining room, you notice that it’s been quite a while since you first noticed him sitting here all by his lonesome - the clock now reading 12:02pm.

“holy shit is right,” he jokes, fingers running up and down the expanse of your back, soothing you from the tiring high you just came down from. he knows how much it wears you out, doing all that work. you turn your head up just a bit to leave a fond kiss against his neck, pecking once, twice, three times against the reddened handprint you’d left behind. you had gotten a bit carried away, but you weren’t ashamed of it one bit.

your heart twinged just a big when he shifted under you after a while, lifting you up, turning around and setting you flat against the table. you watched him lean over to pick up your panties, shuffling them back up your legs and securely over your core for the time being. you would take a shower when he went back outside, so this would have to do for now. you didn’t want to let him go. you wanted to tumble back to the bedroom together and cuddle, maybe give him head in return for his own lovely favor. but you knew you would have to wait when he hooked his fingers around the pencil behind you once again, the rippling sound of the paper following after.

“duty calls,” he grins, leaning forward to peck your lips slowly, parting ways with a pout. he was going to have to deal with a boner for a good amount of time - that thought alone made you smile, “don’t forget what i said about the table either. i keep my word.”

he grabs a towel on his way to the back door, chuckling again at the mess you’d made. he didn’t have time to take a shower and he knew it as well as anyone, but he at least needed to get your juices from dripping down his leg. fuck you drove him crazy.

“i know you do gray,” you grin at him, voice gravely from moaning around his fingers.

Warnings: ANGST

It’s been two weeks since she’s been hooked to five different machines, each creating a sound many would find irritating, but Ethan found it soothing. For Ethan, that sound meant she was still alive, still breathing.

An aneurysm burst? Ethan didn’t even know what a brain aneurysm is, neither of them knew she even had it. He always told her he’d protect her from harm, but how could he protect her from this? How could he protect from something nature had given her? How could he anticipate a ticking timebomb going off in her head? How could he anticipate finding her on the floor of their kitchen that night?

They took her off the ventilator five hours ago, saying they have to know if she can breathe on her own. They had to know if her brain was so damaged she couldn’t live on her own.

Seeing she can, Ethan smiles with every breath she takes, with every rise and fall of her chest.

He’s been stationed beside her bed in that sterile green gown they forced him to wear, gloves on his hands, a suffocating surgical mask on his face and a cover for his shoes and a cap for his head attached to him. He was an infectious risk for her, he knew that, but how can a man part with the woman of his dreams, the girl who breathes life into him every day?

It hurts not to be able to kiss her or to see her smile. It hurts being unable to hold her hand without latex barriers stealing the sensation of her touch from him. It tears him apart not to hear her voice or to look into her eyes that always have a softer, kinder look when they meet his.

“You know how much I love you, Y/N. You know I can’t make it without you. You are my light, my source if happiness, my strength and dreams come true. Every dream I have, every plan for the future? You’re the main focus. I’d be lost without you.” Ethan sighs deeply, stopping once he chokes up just to calm his breathing. His eyes are filling with tears, his vision blurring and he knows that if she doesn’t wake up he would never recover from it. He’d live because dying isn’t as easy as one would think, but he’d be dying slowly and surely as time goes on, nothing could change the fact that his heart would go with her.

He wanted to say one more thing to her, but his phone rings and Ethan decides he can wait a moment later to tell her he was late that night because he bought her an engagement ring. Besides, it’s their song playing as the ringtone. Ethan always wanted to hear that song to remind her of her, Hero by Enrique Iglesias.

Going outside the glass door, he answers the call.

“Yeah, I’m fine. She’s, uh, not waking up yet but I feel like she will. She has to.” Ethan tells his brother, glancing back at her unmoving body a few times. But then he sees it, her hand reaching out blindly, her eyes fluttering open, eyelids feeling so heavy but she’s opening her eyes.

Without a word, Ethan rushed inside, all too happy with the faint smile on her chapped lips, ripping his mask off to talk to her.

“I love you.” She whispers just as her lips fall into a flat line and her eyes roll back into her head.

Next thing Ethan knows, the soothing beeping changes into a flat line followed by an alarm. Doctors and nurses are storming inside and pushing him away. They’re sticking needles into the love of his life, the sound of the defibrillator echoing in his ears.

He can’t think straight, he can’t even speak or cry. Ethan is frozen in his place, watching her slip away, the doctors stopping their efforts.

“Stop. She’s gone. Time of death 11:23.”

Every year on November 15th, no matter what is happening or where he is, Ethan stops. He feels his heart is bleeding still, pounding helplessly in its sorrow. The pain never goes away even as her image fades. She’s always with him in his dreams, but he can’t even remember her voice anymore. Sometimes he’d feel her perfume as he passes on the street, crying out loud as the memory of her hits him.

So, despite where Ethan is or what he is doing, on November 15th at 11:23, he places a hand on his chest and whispers:

“I love you too, babe. Always.”

that way we know we’re from tumblr without revealing anything

I’m just going to say this to strangers until i find a tumblr person

must keep reblogering!! Im going to be so suspicious if any one tells me this now!

Remember the answer is: I stole them from the president.