Sonick's thoughts

Steve promised if there was ever a day when Bucky’s writing became published he’d be by his side to celebrate too. As much as they liked to give each other shit sometimes about art and how they created it, the support was there through and through. The only catch for tonight was that he had to dress nicely to get into the gallery. So, instead of the usual leather jacket or vest he wore and jeans, he went with a plain black suit and white button up shirt.

He refused to wear a tie since it wasn’t a wedding. He had to draw a line somewhere. No one paid him any mind though as they walked around the gallery, and he was more than fine with that. This wasn’t his night.

“You should be proud, punk,” Bucky said, looking over the art lining the large wall, each piece crafted with care.

“I am proud, jerk,” Steve smiled. He hadn’t worn a tie either, and it made Bucky feel a little better. “And you know you don’t have to stay the whole time.”

Bucky knew that. He also knew members and prospects would be trickling in and out throughout the evening. “Not needed at the bar tonight, so I can stay as long as I want. But I might cut out early since I see your face enough between that and the club.”

Steve chuckled. “Still haven’t sold the place, huh?”

The brunette sighed. It wasn’t the first time Steve asked if he was going to sell the bar to focus more on writing. “Where the hell would you all hang out if I sold the place?” He liked the bar. It wasn’t just a great hangout for the club, but for his other regulars, too.

“There are other bars,” Steve teased. He said that, but he loved the bar, too. “You know I just want you to-”

“Follow my compass. I know. You’ve said that so many…” He stopped talking when he saw an unexpected angel walk into the room.

Well, angel was the word that came to mind since you were wearing a white dress and the light over your head illuminated you like a halo. But as his eyes swept over you, he wondered if there was a bit of a devil in you. He wouldn’t mind bringing that side out of you if you gave him the chance.

And here he used to think love at first sight was bullshit.

“Hey. Do you know her?” Bucky subtly nodded in your direction as you spoke to another woman, jealousy flaring up for a second at the thought of his best friend knowing you and not telling him. And if you knew Steve, that was that before things even started. While the blonde didn’t have much game growing up, he came into his own after his growth spurt, and everyone adored or wanted him.

Steve shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he said, making Bucky’s shoulders slump in relief before his friend scrutinized him. “Jesus, are you eye fucking her? You are, aren’t you?”

Bucky wasn’t the least bit ashamed. “And I’ll keep doing it ‘til she looks at me,” he replied, wishing you’d at least spare him a glance and get a look at him in his nice suit. Maybe you weren’t into guys with tattoos and piercings, but he was certain he could change your mind if that was the case.

“How long has it been since you’ve been on a date?” Steve asked. “Just introduce yourself like a gentleman and see where that goes.”

“A couple of months? Something like that.” Tearing his gaze away to glance at his inked hands, he chuckled. “You think I’m a gentleman?”

He could be dangerous and downright dirty when the occasion called for it, but just because he rode a motorcycle and covered himself in tattoos and piercings didn’t mean he treated others poorly. He was raised better than that. Even with his ex-girlfriends, things never ended because he didn’t treat them well. They just weren’t the one.

“We both know you are. Sometimes,” Steve answered, smirking as a beat passed. “And she’s looking your way.”

Bucky’s head snapped up to find you looking right at him with a curious stare. You had the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. Which was nothing compared to your smile. It was like watching the sun slowly rise to meet the day.

Fuck, he was being sappy. You ruined him with a single stare, and he wanted to ruin you in return. Make it so you wouldn’t want another man.

You whispered something to the woman beside you before she nudged you forward and he realized Steve pushed him to move, too. It only took three more steps before he was right in front of you, the gentle smell of your sweet perfume filling his nostrils. Need slammed into his body as you smiled again, and he actually felt the blue of his eyes shrink as his pupils widened.

If Steve thought he was eye fucking you before…

“Hey,” he said, his voice raspier than usual.

“Hi,” you said. It was a voice he could listen to for hours and he wondered what it would sound like when you said his name.

“I’m Bucky.” He took a smaller step closer, trying his damnedest to block out any other man around him so you’d keep those pretty eyes on him.

You introduced yourself, too, and it was a name he would never forget. “I like your tattoos,” you added almost shyly. Almost.

If he had his way, you’d see the rest of them soon enough. “Thanks,” he smiled, holding one hand up to show you. “Dressed like this, I bet you think I’m part of the mob.” After getting dressed and adding the gold jewelry, even he thought for a split second he looked like a mobster.

“Are you or is that information I can’t be privy to?” you asked, making him chuckle. You didn’t skip a beat, and he liked that.

“Not part of the mob, but I am part of a motorcycle club,” he replied. He wore his patch with pride and that didn’t seem to scare you, which was good. “I also own a bar.” He didn’t know why added that part. You didn’t ask and he didn’t want to brag, but there he was.

“So, you ride a motorcycle, and you own a bar?” You glanced back at your friend to ask her, “Do you mind if I…”

“I’m good. You two talk,” your friend smiled, giving Bucky an encouraging wink. He looked back to find that Steve walked away, too.

You smiled as you faced Bucky again. “Well, I’m happy to hear more about either of those things if you have time.”

“Yeah.” A lopsided smile appeared before he could stop it. “I got time,” he said. All the time in the world.

Over the next hour, the two of you stayed close together and talked in between looking at Steve’s pieces. He told you he was there to support Steve and talked a little bit more about the bar he owned. A hole in the wall kind of place he fixed up. While he wasn’t a big drinker, he loved making them for his regulars, and his profession allowed him to get away with all the tattoos.

“I’ll have to stop by sometime,” you smiled before it faltered. “If that’s okay.”

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but his heart raced, and he wanted to see you smile again. “I’ll hold you to that,” he teased. “What about you? What do you do for work?”

You told him that you were a blood bank nurse and still fairly new to the area. While you didn’t have too many friends nearby, you liked your neighborhood and the one friend you had made invited you to the gallery since she was an art enthusiast. You also let it slip that you were single upon your move here, which he was happy to hear since he was, too, but he didn’t miss the note of sadness in your voice.

He could help fix it if you were lonely.

“I’m not seeing anyone either,” he stated.

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You don’t have an old lady?” His eyes went right to your lip when he bit it. “That is the correct term of endearment, right?”

“That’s right,” he said, his eyes soft. “Both of those things are right.”

You bit your lip again and he wasn’t sure if you were purposely trying to entice him, but now he wanted to bite your lip. “So, do you do anything for fun outside of riding and work?”

He almost groaned when you said “riding” and he had to shake his head to keep his mind from drifting. He couldn’t think of you being on his bike with your arms wrapped tight around him or you riding him or anything like that. “Well…”

He explained that he wrote a bit in his spare time outside of work and the club. It was a hobby mostly, but it would be a dream come true to get his work out there one day. If not, that was okay, too, because he had a decent life and didn’t need much. His bike, his brothers.

But to have an old lady…

“Maybe I could read…” you frowned when you saw the time. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was. I should get going,” you said, disappointment filling both of you.

“Oh.” He scratched the back of his neck. The two of you were having a nice talk, and he hadn’t had a chance to ask about your hobbies yet. “It’s still kinda early. Do you really have to go?” he asked, realizing just how desperate he sounded. God, if the prospects could hear him right now… He just didn’t want the night to end.

“Yeah, I do. I’m actually working a blood drive tomorrow and could use the rest,” you said, smiling sadly. He felt like an ass for asking you to stay when you had work to do. “I don’t know if you’ve heard anything about it, but you’re welcome to stop by if you want to donate. I always have this fear that people won’t show, which I realize sounds ridiculous.”

Bucky mentally kicked his ass for not knowing about a local blood drive. He was usually more on top of those sorts of things. “Where’s it at?” You gave the location and time, which was all he needed. “I’ll be there,” he promised.

And every single club member would be there, too, if they knew what was good for them.

“Really?” you smiled, your hand bumping his when you turned to face him. “You’ll go?”

He let his fingers brush yours and he smiled to himself when he felt the light shiver. “Of course, doll.”

“Doll?” you giggled. He hoped he didn’t offend you. “I hope you show,” you added in a small voice, your gaze focused on the ground.

Frowning a bit, he wondered if you didn’t believe him. Did someone let you down before? “If I say I’ll be there…” He lifted your chin, so you’d look into his eyes. He needed you to see the truth in them. “I’ll be there.”

You exhaled, staring deeply into his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you whispered.

He grudgingly released you, knowing he had to. Besides, if he kept touching you, there was a good chance he’d pin you against the wall and show you what a work of art you were. “Good night,” he whispered, watching you go back to your friend. She linked her arm with yours as you glanced back, keeping your eyes on Bucky until you were out of sight.

He exhaled, mentally kicking his ass again. Why the fuck didn’t he ask for your number? You two hit it off, and you wanted to see him at least in some capacity beyond the blood drive, right?

Steve made a beeline for him as he stayed rooted to the spot. “It looks like you two hit it off. You know you didn’t even say hi to Chris or Sam or-”

“We’re going to a blood drive tomorrow,” he cut in. He hoped people would show, but he gave you his word he’d be there, and the club was all about giving back to the community.

The blonde’s eyebrows pinched. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Blood drive. Tomorrow. Everyone,” he said, giving his friend a hard stare. “You’re the president. Make it happen.”

“You’re the vice president, which means you supervise plans for club events or gatherings. That includes last minute things,” he pointed out, his eyebrows shooting up as Bucky got his phone out and typed quickly. “You’re serious about this?”

“Is it too much to say, ‘You better fucking be there or you’ll pay for it later’?”

The blonde grinned. A shit-eating, knowing grin, and he wanted to smack him. “This is all for her, isn’t it?”

Bucky sighed. He hadn't expected to meet someone so perfect tonight. “She’s a nurse and I wanna help. Besides, it’s good for the community and you’re all about that shit.” And he had to make a better impression after not asking for your number. “Will you at least promise you’ll be there?”

“To watch my whipped best friend fawn over a pretty nurse? Hell yeah.”

“Beautiful,” he corrected him. “She’s beautiful.”

And while Bucky would fawn over you tomorrow, he also hoped he’d get your number.

So, what do we think so far? Part of this writing style was slightly different for me, but I like how it turned out! I still need to give this reader a nickname and the AU a name, but this is a start. I can't wait for the whole club to show up at the blood drive. I also have something silly and cute planned for these two. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Part of you suspected that if you'd quit trying to fight him he'd lose interest. He liked when you were in a fiery mood. If you could just give in, give up, he'd likely stop using you. But you couldn't help yourself. You hated him. You hated yourself for enjoying the pleasure he gave. That hate needed an outlet.

You pull into your driveway, no longer surprised to see Bucky's bike there as well. You sigh, wondering if you can talk him into to leaving. You're exhausted. Walking into the house you don't even have a chance to take your jacket off before Bucky is on you.

"Bucky, please no. I'm just too tired."

He chuckles, "don't worry. I'm just really happy to see you. We're going out tonight."

You sigh, "I'd rather stay in."

"Then that means you have the energy for me all night."

"Ugh, fine. Where are we going?"

"I've got you an appointment at the tattoo parlor."

"WHAT?! I hate tattoos! I can't get any!"

He smiles as he growls at you, "you're going to get a tattoo just for me. No one else is going to be able to see it, but we'll know it's there."

"Isn't the jewelry enough of your 'ownership'? You even got me a brooch for my cardigans with your initials!"

Bucky licks his lips, "it was just the beginning, Doll. So far everything I've done to mark you are things that can wash away or heal up. This is the next step."

"I refuse," you declare, crossing your arms.

"Fuck, Doll, you're getting me riled up." He puts his arms on each side of your head, boxing you in against the wall. "And you're getting that damn tattoo. We can either go now, while you're still cleaned up, or after I've fucked your brains out and you're a cum covered mess."

"Fine," you drop your head. "Let's go to the tattoo parlor."

"Not yet." He grabs you chin and makes your look at him. "You need to thank me, first, Doll."

Bile rises at the back of your throat. "Thank you for letting me preserve my dignity."

He laughs. "Give me another," he taunts, using the same voice as when he's telling you to give him another orgasm. You hate yourself for the involuntarily clench your pussy does.

"Thank you, Bucky, for...for introducing me to Bunny. It is nice to have a friend." A friend who understands how fucked you both are, you think.

That gets a more sincere smile on his face. "It is important to me that you know my best friend and his girl. I'm glad you're good to them. Bunny is gonna need you when she's pregnant."

"What are friends for," you dryly reply.

"That's my good girl, Doll."

The tattoo is pretty much what you expected. His initials, right over your heart. If you wore anything low cut, it would be obvious. You were sure that was the point: can't even show a hint of skin without reminding everyone who it actually belongs to. At least it wouldn't be a problem at work, given you always dress conservatively.

By the time you're home Bucky is practically salivating at the memory of the tattoo on your chest. He might be eager to see this permanent mark of his claim on you but at least he's willing to follow instructions for proper care so it doesn't scar or make you sick. You made sure to thank him for that, knowing he likes to hear it, and he reiterates, "I take care of what's mine."

"Any chance I can just get some sleep tonight? I wasn't lying when I said I was tired."

"I'm all worked up, Doll."

"I thought you take care of what's yours," you snap back. "How is keeping me awake, not letting get good sleep, taking care of me?"

He grips your chin and gives you a thoughtful look. "I suppose you're right," he admits. "Even a vibrator's batteries gotta recharge every so often, right?" You roll your eyes and he grins. "But I'm going to hold you all night and when you wake up, it's on. I know you don't work tomorrow."

"Is that why you helped with my budget? So I'd have more free time to be your personal toy?" You can't fight the fire in your voice. You're tired, yes. Tired of being so angry all the time.

"Aww, you admit you're mine," he teases.

Unable to hold back any longer you smack his face. "I have never been so angry or tired as I have been since you showed up. You want to take care of me? You want me to be yours? Treat me like a fucking person!" Tears are pouring out of your eyes, the stress and frustration of the months finally finding a kind of release.

Bucky glowers at you and grabs your throat with his metal arm. "You shouldn't have done that, Doll."

"I don't care anymore," you croak.

That seems to catch him off guard as his hand loosens and his face softens.

"Oh, Doll," he shakes his head. "You really should've said something sooner." You squeeze your eyes shut as more tears start falling. He removes his hand from your throat and brings you in for a hug, causing you to cry even more. He pats your hair and coos, "there, there," until you can't cry any more.

"Let's get you to bed," he says quietly.

"I...I don't...I don't understand."

He gently lifts your chin, "you know, before Bunny ran, I tried to warn Steve he was being too controlling. That she was going to bolt. He didn't listen and, sure enough, she escaped. Wouldn't surprise me if she continued to try because he hasn't learned to loosen his grip. I don't plan on repeating his mistakes. Yes, you're mine and you'll never be rid of me. But that doesn't mean I can't be benevolent."

You sniffle as your brain tries to comprehend the sudden change in his demeanor.

"Now lets make sure that tattoo is properly cared for," he says with a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I...I hit you," you stammer.

"You're over-stressed and tired," he shrugs. "If I thought you were doing it just because you wanted to hurt me, yes, there would be repercussions. But I've apparently been overworking my poor Doll, so I'll forgive that one smack." His tone at that last part implies any more attempts to lash out at him will be punished.

"Thank you, Bucky," you murmur as you hang your head.

"Mmmm. That's more like it. Now let's get you to bed and tomorrow we'll work on your communication skills."

You wake up feeling like you're hungover without having had any alcohol. The delicious smells of breakfast lure you out of the bed, even though you dread meeting the cook.

Bucky's shirtless and smiling as he works. If you were in anything close to a healthy relationship you'd smile at how happy he is. Instead you keep your head down, trying not to think about that metal hand wrapped around your neck. About how those muscles feel pressed against your back, or on top of you.

He sees you and gestures for you to sit at the table. He brings you a plate of breakfast, a mug of coffee and kisses the top of your head before sitting across from you. You don't eat right away like he does, lost in your confusion about this change in behavior.

"Eat, Doll," he orders. "I didn't stock your kitchen and cook this up just for you to let it go cold."

"What is going on?" your voice is barely above a whisper.

"I'm taking care of my girl," he answers, nonchalantly. You look at him like you've never seen him before and he sighs. "Eat, or I will force it down your throat."

You grab a slice of the toast and start chewing. "Thank you, Bucky," you grumble and he nods in his approval.

"One of the differences between me and Cap is that I know I'm a monster," he tells you between bites. "He likes to think we've done all of this to keep his girl safe and give her the life she always wanted. I know better. But we've been best friends since we were kids. Ride or die, you know? So I'm always going to have his back. I've just made peace with the fact that it means ruining lives."

"You never tried to talk him out of it? Out of taking over an entire town?"

He shakes his head. "Steve's the kind of guy who can never be talked or distracted from his goal. One of the things I find endearing about him."

"So, he gets you all to take over everything here and you, what? Enjoy the spoils?" Feeling the bile rise at the back of your throat, you go for another slice of toast to try to settle your stomach while keeping Bucky happy.

"It's a balance," he grins. "We take over and just start doing whatever the hell we want, a lot of people are going to die trying to get rid of us. So we set up some rules for our men. People will remain upset, of course, but they're less likely to 'rise up' so long as we have a level of restraint. It's, honestly, the biggest part of my job as Cap's second."

You think on this for a minute, mindlessly eating. "I get why the town, but why me?"

He shrugs, "I needed the stress relief. It ain't easy keeping a crew in line and I was initially just hoping for a quiet spot to read to calm down. Then I started watching you. Saw you expertly handle all kinds of difficulties. When you snapped at me, I figured, like me, you could use some stress relief."

"Stress relief?!" He gives you a look that has you clamming up.

"And fuck you were so good," he muses. "That first photo is still the background on my phone." Heat rushes to your face. "I decided to go ahead and keep you as mine. You're not only a good fuck, but you were quick to befriend Bunny. Everyone else who sees her with Cap has decided to avoid her. Something I know you've been experiencing, even though you haven't told me." You look down, unable to say anything. "I honestly thought you liked the rough treatment and was happy to give it, but I'm guessing we hit a limit for you."

"You branded me," you snarl.

"No, I got you a tattoo. Branding is something else and would've hurt you a lot more." His tone is stern and you return your attention to your food. "You've played a critical role in helping me keep things under control. Plus, since you're my girl, you get some privileges and protections. You think Steve would've beaten up Walker for some random librarian? No. But for his best friend's girl? That's another story."

"So, you're just going to keep using me?"

"Yes," he nods. "And now that I know more about your limits, I'm less likely to get stabbed in my sleep."

You look at him, aghast, "that's why you never stayed the night before?"

Bucky chuckles, "so smart. I love it. And now that you have more information, hopefully you're smart enough to put the rest of the pieces together."

"If I hurt you, Steve drops everything to find and kill me. Probably painfully." He nods. "If I make you angry, you're likely to take it out on someone who doesn't deserve it or you lose control of your men for long enough that they hurt someone who doesn't deserve it." He nods again, smiling at you. "And if I stop playing along like everything is okay, it's another sign to the townsfolk that might set them over the edge and have them shooting, getting hurt, or worse."

Bucky finishes his breakfast, nodding at your conclusions. "God, I love that you're so smart. Makes a lot of this so much easier." You start sniffling and he reaches across the table to gently grip your chin. "I get that this is a lot to take in, Doll. But I know you'll make the right decision. If you really didn't care about this town, you'd have left when you only had a skeleton budget. You're willing to work yourself to the bone to take care of these people, you're willing to be mine to keep them safe."

"I can't say 'no'," you whimper.

"But it doesn't have to be all bad. Remember, I take care of what's mine."

Previous Part

“One more, come on, doll,”

“Bucky, I just-”

“It’s just a kiss, please?”

You give in on a sigh, kissing the man deeply in his doorway once more. Your blood heated as he slid his tongue past your lips, his hands wandered to your waist, and he drew you flush against him. Bucky was hard at your stomach. Again. That wasn’t the problem though, the problem was that you were wet for him. Again.

You feel the tug at your skirt a second later, his fingers pulling the fabric higher as he tried to pull you back inside once more and you finally pushed him away,

“No, Bucky, come on, I need to go home. Just… give me a break, okay?”

You’d been saying this all weekend, ever since Bucky had tricked you into a blind date on Friday. Part of you hated him for that, but the other part… the touch starved, stressed by deadlines, lonely for companionship part of you… unfortunately that part was the weaker one. The one that let Bucky seduce you into staying the whole weekend with him, fucking you so well each time you tried to protest that you don’t think you’d had a fully coherent thought in over twenty four hours.

It was Monday now, there were too many missed calls from Natasha, and the need to get back to your manuscript managed to override Bucky’s more seductive techniques. 

Just.

He narrowed those gorgeous blue eyes at your tone, and pulled away, “A break? You’re acting like I’ve forced you to stay all this time,” you scoff at that, and he laughs under his breath, “didn’t I tell you that you could go at any time, doll? You were the one creaming for my cock every time I so much as looked at you,”

You sneer at that, shaking your head at his audacity, “Oh yeah? You were the one so desperate for me that you had to engineer this whole thing. Don’t try and act like you’re the wounded party here,”

“So that’s what you are, huh?” Bucky stepped back into his apartment, biceps drawing your gaze against your will as he crossed them over his naked chest, “Poor little Y/N, got a great date with a hot, rich guy who gave her the best head of her life. Sure, doll, act like you didn’t want this whole thing,”

“Oh, I did want it,” you weren’t one to lie to yourself, even if it did hurt that he’d trapped you so easily, “I just don’t want it now. Thanks for the great weekend. I’m done.”

You turn away on that, walking towards the elevator without looking back, even when Bucky calls to you,

“That’s okay, doll. I’ll see you again. I know where you live, I know your friends. You’ll be back in my bed by the end of the month, you’ll see.”

The floors descending to zero felt good, a weight flying from your shoulders. A debauched weekend was all it was, was all it would ever be.

Natasha pounded on your door later that evening, and you had to take a moment before you opened it to her. Your friend was far too perceptive, most times you loved that about her, but right now you didn’t want her seeing things that you wanted to keep secret.

Like the fact that you were both coerced, and more than willing. It was a complicated and unfair situation you just wanted to forget about.

“Right,” Natasha barged into your apartment a minute later, red hair swishing above her shoulders in a silken wave, “tell me exactly what happened. I cornered Steve at work today, and for someone who bitched about the kind of food poisoning he said he had, the asshole looked surprisingly chipper,” red lips sneered, but her eyes were concerned as she looked you over,

“No offence but you look like you need to sleep for a week,” your lips twitch, and then you can’t help it, you laugh out loud, making Natasha blink before joining you, “so the dick was that good?”

You nod your head as your laughter dies down, heading to the fridge so you can grab the wine in there and bring it to the couch with two glasses, Natasha joins you a second later,

“Oh yeah… You were more than right about him, Nat,”

“Babe, no I wasn’t,” She narrows her eyes at you, “It was Steve ‘asshole’ Rogers who I was trying to set you up with, remember?”

Your heart beat picks up suddenly, and you have to drop your gaze from hers, taking the moment to pour the wine so she can’t see your panic,

“Yeah but still, Nat. You were right! You never told me your boss was a fucking…”

“He’s a massive slut is what he is, okay? I never would’ve set you up with Bucky Barnes, even if I’d thought it was possible. It’s not like we’ve ever really engaged or anything, he’s the CEO and I’m just a team leader,”

You throw a look her way, “The best team leader in the company!”

“Oh please, you don’t even know what I do,” Natasha had gone a pretty shade of red, she hated compliments, which was exactly why you’d said it. Obviously you meant it, but flustering her would prevent Natasha from asking more questions you didn’t want to answer.

Or so you’d assumed.

“Look, just… Steve was fine, I know him well enough to know when he’s lying and when he’s sick. When I saw Boss Man Barnes he looked entirely too smug, and he had a late lunch with Rogers as well, which I’d never noticed before, but they are actually pretty close considering Steve’s on the same level as me, management wise,”

You shrug, “Uh… have you heard of misogyny before?”

“Shut up,” Natasha pinned you with a gaze that you couldn’t look away from, “just be honest with me, please? Did Bucky Barnes genuinely meet you there by accident, or not? Are you okay?”

The moment stretched for an eternity. The second lasted between Natasha’s question and your answer expanded as you considered every single possibility of what would happen if you told your best friend the truth. That you’d been lied to, sure, but that you just didn’t care all that much. Bucky Barnes had put you in a corner where you couldn’t do a damn thing to him, but that you weren’t sure you wanted to after the perfect weekend you’d had. Natasha tilted her head, and you opened your mouth to answer,

“Of course it was a coincidence, Nat. I don’t know why I didn’t get your messages, and I’m sorry I made you worry, but when I realised Steve wasn’t going to show up I went to a different bar,” you shrugged easily, “I wanted to find a hookup, and I did. We didn’t even really exchange names until… after,”

You capture your tongue between your teeth, grinning devilishly, and finally Natasha seems to relax. Her smile didn’t quite meet her eyes, but there was no more angry suspicion there, just amused acceptance,

“Wow. The slut meets his match, huh?”

“Shut up, you bitch,”

Natasha chuckles as she takes a gulp of her wine, and shifts to stand, “Okay, okay, I’m just glad you had a good time, babe, you deserve it,” she leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, “now seriously, get some sleep, the fucked all weekend look doesn’t work well on you, you look like hell,”

“Thanks,”

“You’re welcome!” The cheery retort flung over her shoulder as Natasha took the glasses to the sink on her way out, “I’ll text you tomorrow, love you!”

“You too,”

The door is closed behind her a moment later, leaving you alone with your thoughts. All in all, it could’ve gone worse, and the tension in your shoulders you hadn’t even realised you’d been carrying disappeared. All you wanted now was a very hot shower, and then to sleep for at least twelve hours. You had a deadline to meet, and you needed to be rested.

When you get out of the shower, you take a quick look at your phone before setting your alarm, and see a message from a number you don’t recognise. 

Missing you, doll. Think I’ll have to take care of myself or I can’t sleep.

There was a picture along with the message. A large, tanned hand, gripping an impressive erection outlined clearly through grey sweatpants.

You curse under your breath… the urge to respond with your own filthy selfie was almost overwhelming, what harm could it do? Hell, maybe if Bucky wanted a no strings thing, it could work for you… but you knew that that’s not what he wanted here. And you didn’t want to tease him, so you didn't answer. Instead you block the number and turn out the lights.

You’d barely left your apartment in the three weeks since your debauched weekend, feverishly typing out your final draft, editing, re-typing, editing again, contemplating throwing your computer from the window… the place was beginning to look like several bombs had gone off, take out containers lay strewn everywhere, clothing was scattered across most surfaces, and that wasn’t even beginning to touch the note paper crumpled over almost every hard surface.

Your eyes hurt, you needed a shower, and your stomach was cramping from how hungry you were… but the manuscript was done. You sent an email copy to your editor just to make sure everything was as they had wanted, sent a further email to your publisher to say that you would have the book ready and on time, and then yelled to the ceiling that you were done!

Your journey as a writer hadn’t been easy, and you were probably never going to be a bestseller, but this job gave you freedom and a mostly comfortable level of security. Nights like this one were why you wanted to do what you did, and now, you could celebrate.

It was like a fog had lifted as you turned to your terrible looking apartment. You slowly stand up, stretch until you feel like your bones and muscles snap back into their correct alignment, and quickly begin to tidy up. Nothing major, just gathering everything together, throwing the garbage into a bag, and storing your discarded note paper carefully away in a box. You never threw your notes away, sometimes they were a goldmine. Then you turned your phone back on, ignoring the rush of messages and missed calls, and ordered food, before heading to your shower. By the time your door buzzed, you felt like a new woman. A starving, desperate woman, who was ready to snatch the food from the delivery person’s hand-

“Thank you- what?”

Your food wasn’t in the hands of the usual driver. Bucky held it up, a scowl on his face,

“You want the food? Let me in,”

“No!” You try to grab the bag, but he’s too quick and pulls it away, leaving you glaring, “What are you doing here?” You hadn’t thought of Bucky since he sent you that picture - well, apart from a handful of nights where you might’ve used to picture and the memory of his voice to help get you off when you were too tense to sleep. As far as you were concerned, you’d both got what you needed, he’d tricked you, but you’d fucked him. End of story. 

Or so you’d thought.

“Let me in, check you’re okay, and then I’ll go,”

“Are you blind? I’m fine, and I’m starving, just give me the food, and- crap!” again, you’d gone for the food, and again Bucky had dodged, your precious food swinging back and forth tantalisingly, “What do you want?”

Bucky narrows his eyes, but eventually he shrugs, his arm dropping to his side, “I just… I missed you. You didn’t answer that message, and I couldn’t believe it, doll. No girl has ever done that to me before,”

“Really?” Your voice dripped sarcasm, “Are you sure they knew you were interested, though? Maybe they thought you were someone else- aha!” You’d finally snatched your food back from Bucky, ignoring his deepening scowl. Your mouth watered at the scents coming from the bag, and you stepped back into your apartment, ready to slam the door on his face, when Bucky put a hand against it, making you meet his eyes, 

“I’m sorry I did that to you. Can we talk?”

“Thank you for your apology… but no-”

“Wait!” Again, you’d tried to close the door, and again he’d forced it back open, “Please? Let me make it up to you, I feel shitty. I promise I don’t usually do shit like that, it’s just…” he looks around, notices the other apartment doors and seems to realise that he’s not in a high end building with only one large apartment per floor, “please can I come in?”

You stare at Bucky. He looks as great as the night you first met him, though his suit is black this time, his shirt a deep blue colour…

“Yeah… fine,”

You could let him talk whilst you ate. What was the harm?

Hours later, and you’re face first in your sheets, Bucky still hard inside you as he held your wrists over your head in one hand, the other around your front clasped over your throat in a possessive hold.

You hadn’t meant to do this with him, but after he’d apologised again, actually gone to his knees, it was like none of it had mattered any more. You were giddy with your success, belly full of delicious take out, and Bucky had brought a good bottle of wine with him. An hour in your apartment, turned into two, led from the kitchen to the couch, and before you knew it, you were on your knees, and he was fucking your throat raw again.

You’d tried to throw him out again after that, saying you didn’t want him in your home all night, but he’d just laughed, kissed you until your head swam, and dragged you to your bedroom. He’d found you wet when he’d pulled your underwear to one side, found an easy entry when he’d pushed your legs apart and fucked up into you. Then, he’d started taunting you, his lips grazing your ear, 

“I told you you’d end back up in my bed, doll,”

“It’s my bed, you fucking asshole,”

“Semantics, sweetheart,” a lazy roll of his hips, his cock long and thick enough it hit all the good spots deep inside you, “now… tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had, and I’ll let you sleep,”

You close your eyes, relaxing in his hold… “Bucky, you’re…” he eased his grip just enough… you moved your head and bit down on his hand, not enough to draw blood, but enough that he cursed darkly, and dragged you around to face him. Your legs didn’t need his hands to part them, you opened back up to him, letting him slide back inside like he had every right to. He was panting, teeth bared, and you just smiled, “You’re a good fuck, but you’re not the best,”

“Fucking liar,” Bucky laughed, lifted your knee almost to your chest, and pounded hard enough that your neighbour started banging on the walls in retaliation. You would yell out an apology, but you’re too busy screaming Bucky’s name into his mouth as he made you come in a violent wave, his own release following not long after. You can feel his spend dripping out of you onto your sheets, Bucky slowly softening inside you until he slips out, but he doesn’t seem to be in a rush, instead he starts rubbing his thumb over your nipple softly, his other hand back over your throat. You try to push him off, but Bucky only laughs, 

“Don’t act like you want me gone, doll. You can play the independent woman all you like, but you’re just as easy as all the rest,” your argument is swallowed away as Bucky kisses you again, your lips part, tongues moving together… “see?”

“Oh, fuck off,” this time you are successfull at throwing him off you, the asshole still laughing as you drag yourself off the bed, wincing as you can feel him puddling in your underwear, “look, you had your fun, we had great sex again, but I don’t want this anymore, okay? I like my life, I like my space, and if I’m going to share myself with someone, it’s going to be for a lot more than an orgasm and a false apology, okay? I don’t care how hot and rich you are, Bucky. You’re not all that.”

It was the wrong thing to say, even if it had felt amazing in the moment. Bucky almost leaps from your bed, stalking over to you and backing you against the wall. Once again his hand went to your throat, it seemed to be his favourite way of making you look at him, at making sure you knew who was in charge. You held his gaze, you weren’t afraid of Bucky, even as his lips curved into a sinister smile, 

“You’re still lying… but that’s okay. I’m no saint, but I’m not a rapist, doll. You don’t want me around, then I’m gone,” his hand drops from your neck, and he backs away, arms outstretched, “good luck with your book, you’re not half bad. Maybe you can name a character after me. Sweet dreams, doll.”