Warnings: fluff, Lee tells the truth about Leroy Brown
Lee wasn’t usually a man that had time to relax. So when the doctor told him he needed to take time off work, he wasn’t pleased. You’d promised to look after him (not like you didn’t do so already) so he didn’t need to strain himself.
You had your grandpa pick the two of you up from the hospital and stay with Lee at his home whilst you went grocery shopping so you could make dinner. When you came back with not only enough food for a week, you also had every bit of paper work Lee had been working on at the station.
“Sugar, what’s this?” Lee had asked as he looked at the large stack of paperwork on the dining table.
“Something to keep ya’ occupied, Sheriff.” You smiled at him over your shoulder. “I ain’t stupid. I know yer gonna be nothin’ but a giant pain in the backside, grumbling under yer breath and moanin’ ‘bout damn deputies not doin’ their jobs right. So,” You turned to face hin. “Sit and do yer paperwork. I’ve already warned the deputies yer off limits. They get a problem, they solve it themselves or I kick their butts.”
Lee’s mouth hung open before morphing into a grin. “Think I’d quite like to see ya’ kick their ass.” He chuckled.
Lee sat on the sofa as he listened to you hum to yourself as you moved around the kitchen. His paperwork sat beside him untouched. George had gone home after dinner, wishing the Sheriff a quick recovery before he left the two of you alone for the evening.
“Sugar, c'mon in 'ere would ya’, please.” He called out to the kitchen.
A few seconds later and you were walking into the living room. “Yes, Lee.” You smiled softly at him.
Lee patted the space beside him, “We need to talk, Sugar.”
You nodded and walked over to him, sitting down beside him. “You know you don’t have to tell me anything, right?”
He nodded as he slipped his arm around your shoulders. “I know, but I want to.” He pulled you close to him and pressed a kiss to the top of your head before resting his head on top of yours. “I just want to keep you safe, Y/N. You deserve to be loved and taken care of.”
“And you do all that, Lee.” You laid your arm over his tummy as you cuddled him.
He nodded, “But I need to be honest too.”
“Okay.” You nodded.
The pair of you sat in silence as you just sat there, wrapped in each others arms, letting the soft noises of the house; the clock ticking, the hum from the refrigerator, the whistle of the wind that came down the chimney, surround you.
“Leroy Brown.” Lee started. “That’s the guy you saw talking to me. The other guy, his body guard, that’s Bobo.” Lee sighed, “Leroy, he’s a pimp and many, many other things. I wish I wasn’t, but I’m oon his payroll. Have been since my first election.” Lee’s head fell backwards with groan before he hissed in pain. “DAMN IT!”
“Careful, Lee,” You quickly reached over him to get his painkillers and his glass of water. “Here.” You handed him them.
“Thanks, Sugar.” He smiled thankful for your kindness before popping the pills. He let out a heavy sighed as he lowered his head. “M'sorry.”
You shook your head as you took the water from him. “You’re injured, Lee, you shouldn’t be–”
“I don’t mean that.” He huffed. “I’m a dirty cop, Y/N!” He snapped.
You frowned at him. “Lee, not to sound rude or anything, but I’ve kinda always known you weren’t the cleanest.” You admitted.
Lee frowned, “What?”
You chuckled softly, “We did blackmail someone together. And, have you seen how much moonshine there is around Knockemstiff? That ain’t because you’re a bad sheriff, is it?” You smirked at him.
Lee shook his head. “I’ve done much worse things than that, Y/N.” He looked solemn as he thought. “I’ve taken bribes… I’ve framed people for crimes… Hell, I’ve even killed people. And all because, Leroy Brown, fucking tells me to jump.”
You placed your hand on his knee. “Why did you start working for him?”
Lee sighed, “I was a young officer, wanting to make an impression so I would get elected… I worked hard y'know, putting a case together against, Leroy. But when it came down to it, he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. And I’ve been owned by him ever since.” He frowned. “And I’m close, Sugar, to getting rid of him for good, then this happened.” He looked down at his injury.
You frowned, “What do you mean?”
“I knew, about the house. It’s one of Leroy’s. He uses it to make crack or whatever he decides to. We had a deal, I keep the deputies away so he can make his drugs and I get paid.” He huffed. “Now, Leroy, is pissed and says I owe him for his loses.”
“How much?” You asked.
Lee looked up, “Five grand.” He shook his head. “I don’t have five grand that I can just hand over to him.”
You nodded. “Would paying the five grand get rid of him?” You asked.
Lee shook his head with a sigh. “I don’t think I’ll actually be rid of him.” He frowned.
“Maybe you should just kill him.” You shrugged. You looked at Lee with a smirk. “I’ll be your alibi.” You whispered and leaned into him.
Lee chuckled as he once again slipped his arm around your shoulders. “You’re still willing to be my alibi, baby girl, after everything?”
You nodded and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Of course. I love you.” You smiled. “Now, let’s forget about all that and eat dinner. Then, if you’re up for it, I’ll suck your cock like a good girl.” You giggled as you gave his thigh a light squeeze.
Lee’s eyes lit up as his smirked. “Oh, I’ll be up to it, Sugar.”
Summary: Y/n’s dad is up to something, and Sebastian will figure out what it is. Even if it kills him.
Warning: Alcohol, angst, feelings, daddy issues???, hints of stalking, hints at dark past
A/n: We’ll get to see a little bit more about Sebastian in this part!
Sebastian takes a sip of his drink as he stares out the window, clenching his jaw. He’s been watching you through the window for a while, long enough to watch your bedtime routine. It’s been a week since you left his house in a fit of rage, meaning it’s been a week since he last had his hands on you.
He’s not tried, but he knows if he texted you right now, you’d ignore it.
He almost felt bad about what he did, until he remembered the kind of girl you are. You’re the kind of girl that grew up riding horses and going to debutante balls. You’re the kind of girl that’s never had to work for anything in your life, despite what you think.
You might’ve gotten into a good college, but your dad was the one that donated a large sum of money to the school board. You might’ve bought the bakery in your name, but your dad was the one that blackmailed the previous tenants into selling.
Sebastian knows you think you’re too good for a man like him.
A man that teamed up with his dad’s rival to dethrone him from his own business. A man who has no shame about murdering someone in cold blood. A man who watched you for two years and used his friend to get to you.
Soon after taking over his dad’s business, Sebastian saw you through the window of your bakery. He decided right then and there that he had to have you. He just had to be smart about it.
He knew you weren’t the type of girl to go for a man like him, so he’d have to be patient. But he also knew you were the type of girl who wanted some excitement in her life. While you may never go for the ringleader of the country’s biggest mafia, you might go for one of his men, just to get a glimpse of danger.
Sebastian’s been with women like you. The kind of woman that wants excitement, but goes running back home to her sophisticated husband at the end of the night. He vowed he’d never get involved with another woman, especially one like that, until he saw you.
Sebastian had Landon visit you every week, easing his way closer to you. He had him clean up his appearance for you, to keep you comfortable. Sebastian rented the apartment across the road from you, giving him a perfect view of you talking to your girlfriends on the phone about this new man.
Nobody knows about the small apartment, not even his closest men. It’s where he runs when the business gets overwhelming, when all he needs is you.
He watched you gush and blush about a man you barely knew, which somehow excited you more. When he knew Landon had you, he made an appearance himself, drawing you in. His original plan was to invite you to the dinner party to make a move, knowing the excitement of the boss wanting you would be enough for you to forget about Landon.
But when he found out about Landon stealing his money minutes before the dinner party, plans changed. Sebastian was worried the murder would send you running, until he watched you cry on the sidewalk. It wasn’t a cry of shame, or terror.
It was a cry for who you used to be. He knew that cry, because he had cried that same cry before. It was the same cry he cried after watching his dad murder a man, when he realized he’d never be the same again.
He’d never be normal, because he liked it. Like you, he didn’t like the fact that someone died, he just liked how powerful he felt.
That’s why he manipulated his dad into giving him the business.
After Sebastian saw that, he knew you’d be back for more. He knew you could handle it, you could handle him.
Despite Sebastian’s obsession with you, he knows he can never have you. Not in the way he wants. He wants to hold you close, move you in with him, to take care of you. He wants so badly to give you everything you deserve.
If he wants you, he’ll have to play it safe. No feelings, no love, just you.
—-
“Come in,” You shout, looking over your shoulder. You’re in the kitchen, preparing dinner, listening as footsteps get closer to you. You make eye contact with your dad, flashing him a smile.
“Hey, dad,” You say, watching him take off his suit jacket. Your dad places the jacket on the back of the kitchen chair, walking toward you. He presses a kiss to your cheek, standing beside you. “How have you been? I haven’t heard anything from you lately,”
Your smile fades slightly, before a fake one grows on your lips. You don’t want your dad to know anything’s wrong, because what would you tell him? That you witnessed a murder and might have feelings for the person that did it?
Your dad is the best man you know, he’s always been the perfect husband and father. If he knew what his daughter was like, he’d be distraught.
“Nothing’s wrong… I’m just stressed about the bakery,” You lie, hoping he can’t see right through you. He stares at you for a moment, before simply shrugging his shoulders. “I have an idea,” He says, glancing over at you.
“Hm?” You mutter, stirring the liquid in the pot. Your dad has always helped you out when you’re stressed, he’s always been the one person you can count on.
“The cabin I have, you should go there. Spend a couple days alone, clear your head… I’ll take care of everything while you’re gone.” He says. The way he says ‘everything’ sends a chill down your spine, but you don’t know why. He’s just trying to help out, why do you have a bad feeling?
“Oh, I don’t know, dad.” You answer, turning the heat off of the stove. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea, but you’re a complete control freak… You don’t want anyone else running your business. And honestly… you don’t want to be too far away from Sebastian…
Just in case he decides to apologize.
You tried not to think about him, after what happened, but you can’t help it. You tried to be disgusted with the fact that Sebastian practically fucked you in his kitchen with people upstairs, but you couldn’t be.
You definitely should, but you find it hot. You find it incredibly hot. Knowing Sebastian wanted you so bad that he didn’t care about who was around… It’s an absolute wet dream.
Your dad reaches out and grabs your spoon, stopping your stiring motions. “I insist, y/n. In fact, you’ll go tonight.”
You furrow your eyebrows, taking a step back. You’ve never seen your dad like this. He has a certain anger in his eyes that you’re not used to. Your dad has always been fun, goofy… Never angry. Never demanding. “What’s going on? I don’t want to go,” You say, feeling more like a child than you ever have.
Your dad chooses to ignore you, turning and walking into your bedroom. You’re right on his heels, your heart hammering against your chest. You watch as he reaches in your closet, grabbing your “go bag”.
Growing up, your dad insisted everyone in your family have a go bag; a bag full of things you would need if you ever had to leave in a hurry. Clothes, hygiene products, cans of food, chargers, cash. You never knew it wasn’t normal until you got to college and realized no one else’s family had done that.
“I’m not leaving!” You shout, tears welling up in your eyes. You don’t know why you’re crying, but you’ve never been more confused. This has never happened, your dad has never insisted you go away. Your dad shoves the bag into your arms, storming out into the living room. “You will, even if that means I have to drive you there myself.” He says, opening your door.
Fear settles in your chest, your breath trapped in your chest. Something’s not right. You don’t know what it is, but you can feel it in your bones.
You push your way past your dad, pulling your phone out of your pocket and dialing your store manager’s number. You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you know you have to make sure your business is being taken care of.
The phone rings several times before Kate picks up, confusion in her voice. You never call her on her day off, it’s something you take pride in. But right now, you need her. “Kate, I need you to listen,” You start, opening your car door. You throw your bag in the backseat of your car, holding the phone between your cheek and shoulder.
“I need you to watch over the store for a while. I’m going to be out of town for a few days.” You say, starting your car up. You look over your shoulder, watching as your dad locks your house door. You press on the gas, watching as dust flies behind your car.
“What? What are you talking about?” Kate asks. You start driving, subconsciously driving to Sebastian’s house. You’re not sure why that was your first thought, but you assume it’s something to do with wanting to feel safe— and Sebastian makes you feel safe.
Isn’t it ironic? You’ve watched this man murder someone, yet he makes you feel safe.
You keep your eyes on the road, the trees and building signs zipping by you at 80 mph. “You know where the key is, you know how to run the store. I just need you to handle everything while I’m away,” You reiterate, trying to get your point across. You know she’s caught off-guard, but you really don’t want to go into any more detail.
Not until you know more yourself.
“Y/n, is everything okay? Is someone hurting you?” She asks, genuine concern in her voice. You chuckle under your breath, taking the turn into Sebastian’s neighborhood. “Everything is fine, Kate. I’ll be back soon,”
You hang up before she has time to argue, needing some time to gather your thoughts before you pull into Sebastian’s driveway. His car isn’t here, but convince yourself it’s in the garage. He has to be here, you need him.
You park near the door, hurrying to his front door. You knock as loud as you can, your heart continuing to race. Something obviously isn’t right, but you don’t know what’s wrong. It’s your dad, he wouldn’t hurt you… Right?
After what feels like forever, Sebastian comes to the door, dressed only in his underwear. The scratches on his chest and his swollen, pink lips make it obvious what he was doing, causing your heart to sink.
Why did you come here?
Sebastian is a playboy. He’s a dangerous man. Why did you expect him to be the one to protect you? He has bigger things to worry about than some girl he’s only met a handful of times. Sebastian furrows his eyebrows, looking you up and down. “Y/n, what are you doing here?”
You shake your head, taking a few steps back. You try to get the words out, but you’re distracted by the naked woman walking up to the door. You suck in a sharp breath as she wraps her arms around Sebastian’s waist, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Come back to bed,” She moans.
Sebastian rolls his eyes, taking her arms off of him. “Get dressed, there’s a $5 on the nightstand for an Uber.” He mutters, his eyes locked onto yours. You listen as the woman scoffs, muttering something under her breath.
“I shouldn’t have come here, you’re obviously busy and I don’t know why I expected you to—“
Before you can finish, Sebastian is stepping outside, shutting the door behind him. He glances over at your running car, noticing the small bag in your passenger seat. “What are you running from?” He asks, his eyes searching yours.
You gulp, looking behind your shoulder at your car. You’re not even sure what to say. “My dad is forcing me to stay at his cabin so I showed up here,”?
“I… My dad, there’s something wrong,” You stutter, brushing your hair behind your ear. The mention of your dad has Sebastian tensing up, his jaw clenching. You’re far too worried to notice.
“What did he do?”
You swallow the lump in your throat, opening your mouth to explain, only to be interrupted by the blonde woman coming outside. She stares you down as she walks to the edge of the driveway, waiting on her car ride. “He didn’t doanything, something just isn’t right. He came to my apartment and insisted I go away for the weekend. He was acting crazy, he was grabbing me and throwing my bag at me, I’ve never seen him like this before,” You explain.
Sebastian’s hair stands up on the back of his neck, realizing your father was much closer than he ever realized. He always knew who your father was and what he did, but he always thought he was two steps ahead of him. He’s known your father since he was a young boy, thanks to his dad.
Sebastian’s dad was smart enough to have someone else do his dirty work for him, and that someone just happened to be your dad. Your dad took out anyone Seb’s dad needed him to. Sebastian has had a burning suspicion that he was out to get him, but he just didn’t know why.
“Go get your bag. You’re staying with me.” Sebastian orders, nodding over to your car. Your eyes widen, laughing humorlessly. “You want me to stay with you?”
Sebastian stares at you blankly, nodding. “Yes, why wouldn’t you?”
You chuckle again, raising your eyebrow. “Well, for one, I’ve watched you kill a man. I also just saw a naked woman walk around your house. So, no, I won’t be staying here,” You say, turning to leave. Sebastian gently grabs your arm, spinning you back around.
He’s smirking, looking you up and down. “You jealous, doll?” He asks. He can see it written all over your face, but he knows you’ll never admit it. You roll your eyes, choosing to ignore the question. You don’t have time to entertain his ridiculous questions.
Sebastian’s smile fades, turning into a more serious expression. “I’m serious, you need to stay here. This house is more protected than the White House, and you know that. You’ll be safer here than anywhere,” He says, leaning against the doorframe. You sigh, realizing just how right he is.
“Fine,” You start, looking up at Sebastian. You raise an eyebrow as his eyes light up, a smile growing across his face. “Butthere will be absolutely no funny business. I’ll have my own room, my own bathroom, and you’ll be respectful of my boundaries,” You order.
Warning: Oral sex (f receiving), angst, feelings???, unintentional exhibition, let me know if i missed any!
Summary: You never thought you’d be standing at the door of a murderer, but here you are.
A/n: I’m so sorry this part took so long, but i lost motivation halfway through :( I’ll have the next part up soon!
“Here’s your dress, Ms. Y/l/n,” The man says, flashing his smile at you. You give him a tight-lipped smile as you dig through your purse, pulling out your credit card. You’ve been getting ready for your date all day, going shopping for new shoes, buying yourself some new lipstick, and now, you’re picking up your dress from the dry-cleaners’.
You wouldn’t say your exactly excited about this date, but it’s something to get your mind off of last night. You can’t believe you got off to a murderer.
Your parents raised you better than that.
When you called your best friend up, she hooked you up with the seemingly perfect man. You’d met her friend multiple times before, but never thought of him in that sense.
“It’s already paid for.” The man states. You lift your head to look at him, furrowing your eyebrows.
“What? No, I haven’t paid for it,” You insist, grabbing your dress. The man across from the counter smiles, shrugging his shoulders.
“It was paid for by the name of…” He starts, grabbing the receipt to look at it. “Mr. Stan?”
Your lips part in shock, your shoulders falling.
Seriously?
This is what he’s doing now? He’s bribing you to come by his house? You sigh, tucking the dress under your arm and walking out of the small store. You drive all the way home, angry at Sebastian.
What does he not understand? You don’t want anything to do with him. He’s a bad person! How are you supposed to ignore him if he’s calling you and paying for your things?
You walk through your front door, shutting it behind you. You toss the dress over onto your couch, groaning. You wish you could just lay in bed all night, instead of having to go on this date.
You walk down your hallway, entering your bedroom. On your bed sits a white box, with a note on top. You jerk your head around, making sure you’re not being followed. You’re sure you locked your door, you’re positive.
Your heart thumps in your chest, knowing exactly who was in your home. But how?
You walk forward, picking up the small note.
‘If you’re going to be with another man, you might as well look good while you’re doing it. Thank me later’
The hair on the back of your neck stands up as you drop the note, tearing into the box. You lift the lid to reveal a set of white, lacey lingerie. It’s beautiful, you can’t deny that. The flower covering the nipple portion of the bra is gorgeous. You run your finger across the top of the lingerie, picturing yourself in this set.
You’ve never worn lingerie, but you think you just might tonight.
—–
“And so I told 'em, I can’t file your taxes if you’re unemployed!” Jake says, laughing so hard his shoulders are shaking. You fake a laugh, gritting your teeth. Your date has been telling a “joke” about doing taxes for the past 30 minutes.
The restaurant is loud and cluttered. Your black dress is wrapped tightly around your body, as if it’s begging you not to take it off for this man. Your white lingerie is hugging your body, reminding you of a certain man.
You’re bored out of your mind, but you don’t want to be. You really wanted to go on this date to forget about Sebastian, but it seems you’re only thinking about him more. You find yourself comparing Jake to Sebastian, only for Jake to fall short.
You really tried to be interested in Jake, but it’s impossible. How are you supposed to forget about Sebastian when he’s so… Enchanting? How are you ever supposed to be with another man if Sebastian keeps popping up randomly?
“I have to go,” You blurt out, scooting your chair out from under the table. Jake furrows his eyebrows, looking up at you as you stand.
“What? Why?” He asks. You ignore him, scrambling to find your pocketbook. Once you have it, you rush to exit the restaurant, one thing on your mind.
If you ever want to be with someone else, you have to tell Sebastian to leave you alone.
——-
You stare at the door in front of you, swallowing the lump in your throat. The taxi ride here was dreadful, a million scenarios running through your head, not sure which one will actually play out.
It’s dark outside, but you can’t bring yourself to knock on the door. Sebastian is a killer.
Had you forgotten that when you randomly decided to show up at his house? Who says he won’t kill you tonight? You know what he’s capable of. Before you can convince yourself to turn around, the door is opening, revealing a very confused Sebastian.
He’s dressed in his usual— tight, black pants and a black dress shirt. His cross necklace is nestled in his chest hair, where the top two buttons are undone. Sebastian flickers his eyes up and down your body, drinking your image in. You almost forget what you’re there for, until he flashes his white smile.
“What a pleasant surprise,” He says, stepping to the side. You plant your feet on the ground, stopping yourself from going inside. You came here to do one thing, and you know if you go inside, it’ll be hard to leave.
“You have to leave me alone,” You say, your voice shaky. Standing up to a man who has murdered somebody wasn’t necessarily on your bucket list, but here you are. Before Sebastian can respond, you continue.
“You can’t keep popping up in my life. No more paying for my stuff, no more texting me, no more inviting me over,” You demand. Sebastian leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.
“And why’s that?” He asks, his voice deep.
“You’re a bad man, Sebastian. I watched you murder somebody, I can’t be with someone like that,” You say, watching as Sebastian steps forward. There’s a new smirk on his face, one you haven’t seen yet. He uncrosses his arms, dropping them by his side.
“If I’m such a bad man, why are you wearing the lingerie I bought you?”
You gulp, taking a deep breath. He can’t possibly know you have it on under your dress, can he? You take a step backward, creating distance between the two of you. “I don’t,” You answer, your voice quiet.
Sebastian steps forward again, lifting his arm and reaching it out to you. He hooks his index finger beneath the strap of your dress, lifting it from your skin. The white strap of your lingerie becomes visible, a smile growing on his face. “Why are you lying to me, huh?”
He pops the strap back against your skin, his hand falling down to caress your arm. “You know better than to lie to me,” He says, his voice laced with authority. You can feel your mind slipping already, dragging you under, making it harder for you to deny him. His face is inches from yours, his eyes flickering down to your lips.
Cold chills pop up on your arm, where he’s caressing it. “Did he touch you?” He asks, watching as you shake your head, unable to speak. You’ve never been so fucked out, without even being touched. Sebastian leans forward, his nose brushing against yours.
“Good girl,”
With that, you let go, pushing forward and kissing him. His hands drop from your arm to your waist, pulling you inside. He shuts the door behind you, his lips moving with yours. You feel your breath get trapped in your throat, too mesmerized to remember to breathe. He grabs your waist again, pulling you forward as he walks backward. The kiss is eager, desperate, everything you thought it would be.
You feel yourself being pushed against something hard and cold, but you only focus on Sebastian’s hands gripping you, his lips pulling you in. He pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours. You’re able to see where you are now, taking it all in. You’re in his kitchen, your back pressed against the counter. It’s one of the nicest kitchens you’ve been in, but you’re not thinking about that right now.
“Let me taste you,” He breathes, licking his lips. A smirk grows on his face as he squeezes your ass through your dress. “Or am I too bad for that?”
You roll your eyes, reaching up and tangling your fingers in his hair, pushing him down until he’s on his knees. Sebastian smiles up at you, his hands bunching the bottom of your dress up, revealing your white panties. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thighs, his eyes on yours. “Beg me,” He demands, earning a whimper out of you.
You’ve never been good at being vocal in the bedroom– especially not with men. You’ve always felt more confident in the bedroom when you’re with a girl, but you feel completely lost when it comes to being with a man. But you’ve never wanted anything more, so you’ll do whatever he wants you to do.
“Please, let me feel you,” You whisper, tugging on his hair, trying to pull him closer to your center. You can feel yourself soaking through your panties, sticking to the inside of your thighs. Sebastian shakes his head, seemingly unsatisfied with your plea.
You pout, swinging one leg over his shoulder, his face practically touching your panties. “Need you so bad, Seb, ’m aching,” You mutter, tears threatening to slip out. You think you might actually die if he doesn’t start touching you soon.
Sebastian chuckles quietly, reaching up and pulling your panties down your leg. He moans when you’re exposed, your folds glistening and gleaming for him. He spreads you apart with his thumbs, a string of your arousal spreading between your thighs. “So fucking perfect,” He mumbles, his thumb moving to your swollen bud.
You tighten your grip on his hair, resting your head against the cabinet behind you. You close your eyes, letting bliss overtake you. Sebastian presses his thumb against your clit, gently rubbing circles, looking up at you. “Does that feel good, doll?”
You nod, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. Your moan is trapped in your throat, scared to let go. You’re caught off guard when he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking it into his mouth. He sucks on it gently, while keeping your folds spread with his fingers. You moan quietly, working up the courage to become undone. Your stomach tightens, your head filled with fireworks.
When the sensation becomes too much, he pulls away, burying his face between your legs, licking and slurping up every trace of you. His tongue pushes its way into your tight hole, spreading you open. He fucks you with his tongue, earning another moan out of you. This one is loud, louder than you thought it would be.
Sebastian moans against you, reaching up and cupping your ass, pulling you closer to his face. He adds his finger, your cunt clenching around it. You pant above him, your fingers tightening in his hair. You’ve never been this gone before, especially not so quickly.
You don’t care that he’s a bad man. You don’t care that he’s done bad things. You don’t care that he has blood on his hands.
You are completely crazy for this man.
Sebastian looks up at you, his eyes dazed, locked onto yours. “Cum for me, doll,” He rasps, his lips pink and swollen. Your moan gets trapped in your throat as you struggle to keep your orgasm at bay.
But how could you? The most powerful man you’ve ever met is on his knees for you, doing everything in his power to make you feel good.
Despite the clear power imbalance between the two of you, you’ve never felt more powerful.
You feel a wave of pleasure wash over your body, your legs shaking, trapping Sebastian between them. Sebastian coaxes you through your orgasm, pulling back and resting his cheek against the inside of your thigh. You look down at him, attempting to catch your breath.
“Holy shit,” You mutter, watching as he rises to his feet. He smugly licks his lips. reaching out and stroking your jaw with his hand. He stares in your eyes, opening his mouth as if he wants to say something, but he’s interrupted by the sound of footsteps. You both turn to face the man at the bottom of the stairs, who’s dressed in the same outfit as Sebastian.
The man with the brown hair and blue eyes clears his throat, smirking. “Sounds like you’re busy, so I’ll show myself out,” He says, turning to the door. You turn to face Sebastian, your face red and full of anger.
You can’t believe he had people over! He ate you out in the middle of the kitchen, knowing anyone could walk down and see you? You know the mysterious man heard you! When Sebastian turns to face you, his smile drops, his eyebrows furrowing.
“What?”
“You are unbelievable! Am I some sick game to you?” You ask, pulling your dress back down. You grab your phone, walking to the door. Sebastian follows you, reaching out and grabbing your waist, spinning you back around to face him.
“What are you talking about? I thought we were having a good time?” He asks. You huff, shaking your head. The way you feel now is a major contrast from how you felt earlier. Instead of feeling powerful and divine, you feel cheap and dirty. Did he just use you to make himself feel good? Did he want to show off his skills to his friend?
“You had someone over, Sebastian! I thought you really wanted me, not to just use me to make yourself feel good,” You say, pulling your arm back.
Sebastian’s face drops, allowing you to see a glimpse of what’s going on his head. Before you can figure it out, he’s rolling his eyes, clenching his jaw. “You said it yourself, y/n,” He spits, causing you to flinch.
You hadn’t realized how used to 'doll’ you’d become. Now, hearing him say your name is a harsh slap of reality, reminding you that he’ll never be anything to you and you’ll never be anything to him.
“I’m a bad man; What did you expect?”
You swallow down your response, deciding it isn’t worth it anyway. He’s right, and you know it. He’ll never be the person you deserve– the one that shows up at your door with flowers or the person who tells you how much he loves you every day.
You open the door, walking out and slamming it behind you. You rest your back against the door, taking a deep breath.
He’ll never be the one you deserve, but he’ll always be the person you want.
Warning: masturbation (m and f), mentions of guns, mentions of murder, stalking,
Summary: How did Sebastian know you were thinking about him?
A/n: This is the second part to my Mafia!Sebastian Stan x Baker!Reader series. The third part will be up soon!
You linger in the back of your bakery, leaving the floor to your workers. You haven’t had any sleep over the weekend, the sound of the gunshot replaying in your head. You went home after the party and scrubbed yourself until your skin was red and raw, but you still feel dirty.
You don’t know if any amount of showers will make you feel clean again.
Because you likedit.
Okay, maybe you didn’t like that someone died, but you liked the feeling that came with it. The power, the control, the adrenaline… It’s all you’ve been able to think about since Friday night.
To know you were so close to death, yet you made it out alive… It was all messing with your head.
You flatten your dough out on the flour-covered counter, working it out with your soft hands. It’s a slow day today, meaning most of your workers are listening to music and talking to each other. Normally, the lack of business would be upsetting. But today, it’s a blessing.
You’re not sure where to go from here. Does Landon’s wife know he’s missing? Does she know what happened? Was she involved in whatever the hell Landon was involved in?
You thought about calling the cops, but something stopped you. You’re not sure if it’s the fear of getting involved or the excitement from it all that stopped you, but you quickly put that thought to bed.
What good would the cops do? They’d probably just sweep it under the rug.
You hear the ding of the bell, bringing your attention to the doorway of the kitchen. You can’t see into the lobby, but you can hear the distinct voice; the voice that will be engraved in your brain for the rest of your days.
You hear him speaking with the girl at the register, but you can’t tell what he’s saying. You tense up, swallowing the lump in your throat. What is he doing here? What’s the protocol of a murderer being in your business?
You stand still, your eyes locked onto the doorway. You hear footsteps against the floor before Sebastian comes into your view, his smug smile on his face. He looks you up and down, licking his lips.
“There’s my Golden Girl,” He says, walking toward you. Your hands reach for the nearest weapon, which just so happens to be your rolling pin. You take a few steps backwards, your heart pounding in your chest.
Golden Girl?
You are not a golden girl, and you’re certainly not his golden girl. “Get away from me,” You order, trying your best to keep your voice steady. You keep your eyes on him, not wanting to leave anything to chance. Sebastian chuckles deeply, shaking his head.
“I’m not going to hurt you, doll. I just wanted to check on you,” He says, watching the gears turn in your head.
Check on you?
“You know, after what happened Friday? That kind of stuff can be intimidating for people like you,”
“People like me?” You spit, without thinking. You’ve seem to forgotten what he did to Landon only a couple of days ago; he could do the same thing to you. Sebastian makes his way around to you, his face inches from yours. You crane your neck to look up at him, not wanting to show how afraid you are.
“People who have never witnessed a murder. Sometimes that can traumatize people,” He clarifies, his right hand coming up to trace your cheek. You don’t even flinch, except for the occasional clenching of your jaw. You try not to think about how soft his hands are, despite how much blood they have on them.
Literally and figuratively.
You keep silent, slowly lowering your rolling pin. You don’t know how to explain to him that you’re perfectly fine after witnessing an innocent murder. Doesn’t that make you a psychopath?
What kind of person feels nothing after watching someone get murdered? Sure, the shock was overwhelming, but the only thing you felt after that was… Excitement?
Your whole life, you’ve been the good girl. You’ve gone to class perfectly, never had detention, never missed an assignment, never failed a class. You excelled in everything you did. You graduated with your bachelors degree in entrepreneurship. You wake up every day at the same time, go to the same place, make the same recipes, and go back to your house.
This was the only thing in the past 2 years of your life that was different.
“Unless, of course, you enjoyed it,”
The statement throws you off, jerking your head up to him. Sebastian is smirking down at you, his hand dropped to his side. He’s got that same smug look on his face, the one you can’t stand. The one he had on his face right before he brutally murdered Landon.
How does he know? He can’t know. Maybe he’s just grasping at straws, trying to feel you out. He can’t possibly know how it made you feel.
“Are you insane?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows. You’ve backed away again, leaving about a foot between the both of you.
Sebastian shrugs, tutting. “I know you better than you think I do,” He says, backing away from you. He turns his back to you, looking over your counter. You’ve got different icings laid out, testing which flavors work with what. You watch as he swipes his finger through the black icing, flicking his eyes over his shoulder, bringing his finger up to his mouth.
You get a sick feeling deep in your stomach, knowing he’s right. You don’t know how he knows you better, but he does. One look, and you know he knows everything about you. He knows your deepest secrets, your biggest fears, your highest dreams…
Sebastian sticks his finger in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks, sucking the icing clean off of his finger.
You stare straight ahead, your heart sinking in your chest. “Get out,”
————
You lay on your back, staring at the ceiling. After a long, hard day at work, you’re exhausted, but you can’t seem to fall asleep. Your mind is racing with images of Sebastian. The way he towered over you, the way he sucked his finger, the way he smiled at you…
The way he looked holding a gun.
You quickly shake your head, as if trying to shake the image away. What is wrong with you? Guns and violence aren’t attractive, especially when someone was murdered!
But how do you explain the way your stomach feels when you think back to that night? When you remember how intimidating Sebastian looked, how everyone in the room respected him? With every step, he commanded attention. You’ve never met someone so powerful.
You find your hand wandering down your body, your back arching off of the mattress. Your fingers dance over your panties, quickly finding your swollen bud. Your mind goes back to today, when Sebastian was standing over you, smirking down at you.
Is that the same look he’d give you after completely devouring you?
You apply light pressure to your clit, your other hand dancing down your body. You feel yourself soaking your panties, already gone.
If Sebastian knows you better than you think, does he know how you feel about him? Does he know that he terrifies you, all while exciting you? Does he know what you’re doing right now?
You gasp as you push your panties to the side, swiping your index finger through your folds. It’s been a while since you’ve had time to touch yourself, so every light touch excites you.
You think back to the first time you met Sebastian, when you couldn’t stand him. The way he looked you up and down sent you spiraling, but you couldn’t admit it. You’ve never had a man look at you the way he looked at you.
Before you can process it, you’re pushing a finger in your cunt, moaning as you stretch yourself out. You bite down on your lip as you clench around your finger, images of Sebastian flooding your mind.
You hear your phone vibrate next to you, jerking you back to reality. You quickly pull your hands out of your panties, curious as to who’s texting you this late at night. You pick your phone up, an unfamiliar number flashing over your screen.
Are you thinking of me?
Your heart races in your chest as your eyes scan your room. There’s no doubt in your mind about who this is. You don’t know how he got your number or how he knows what you’re doing, but the thought actually… Excites you.
But you’ll never let him know that.
You wish.
Not even two seconds after hitting send, your phone is ringing, his number popping up. You lay on your back again, slipping a hand back into your soaked panties. You answer the phone with your other hand, putting it on speaker.
“Sounds like you’re the one who’s thinking of me,” You tease, breathless. You can already feel your stomach tightening, desperate to feel that sweet release.
You hear Sebastian chuckle, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. “I am,” He says, his voice deeper. You close your eyes, sinking deeper into your bed.
What is he thinking about? Is he touching himself? Is he replaying every encounter, like you are?
You hear Sebastian suck in a sharp breath. “Tell me how you feel, doll,” He instructs, your cheeks heating up. You haven’t had phone sex since your high school days, when that’s as close as you could get to real sex— thanks to your parents being home all the time.
You’ve never been great at it, but tonight, you feel hot.
You push a finger into yourself again, your walls sinking in around your fingers. “I-I’m soaked, Sebastian,” You answer, earning a hum out of him. You know your answer isn’t enough, so you pump your finger in and out, your cunt clenching around it.
“I’m so warm, a-and tight,” You stutter, bucking your hips up. You hear Sebastian panting on the other end, a visual popping up in your mind.
You wonder if he’s dressed in his suit, undressed just enough to free his cock. You imagine his big, tattooed hand wrapped around himself, his eyebrows furrowed as he draws closer, his pink lips parted as he moans.
“Fuck yourself exactly like I would,” He orders. You moan quietly, adding another finger. The stretch is becoming too much, but you likeit.
You smirk, opening your eyes to stare at the ceiling. “How am I supposed to know how you’d fuck me? You’ve not even touched me yet,” You answer, your voice light and flirty. You hope he doesn’t notice the ‘yet’, not wanting him to know that you really, really want him to touch you one day.
You feel dirty for wanting someone like him to touch you, but the more you try to deny it, the more you want it.
Sebastian chuckles once again, only for the laugh to be cut short due to a moan. “‘Cause I’ll give ya whatever you want, doll. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. Even things you don’t realize you want yet, I’ll give it to you,” He whines, quietly moaning.
Your stomach turns as your imagine him fulfilling your deepest, darkest desires. You’ve been with plenty of people, but you’ve never been honest about what you wanted in bed. Sure, you’ve been choked a couple of times. You’ve even had your fair share of degradation, but it’s never been enough.
You’ve never been comfortable enough to tell them what you actually wanted. You want to be fucked with no limitations. You want them to make you cry, you want them to make you beg. You want danger, you want passion.
You want them to ownyou.
The image of Sebastian’s hand choking you almost sends you over the edge, but you hold yourself back. You choke out a sob, curling your fingers deep inside. “Seb,” You breathe out. your toes curling.
“You want me to own you, baby? You think I don’t know how dirty you are? Tell me what you want, I’ll give it to you,”
Your lips part as you squeeze your eyes shut, searching your mind for what you want most. If you had one shot in the bedroom with Sebastian, what would you want him to do to you? Your lips are moving before you can even process what you’re saying.
“I-I want you to make me cry, Seb… I want you to mark me, want you to hurt me,” You moan, arching your back.
“Jesus Christ,” Sebastian moans, practically growling. You can tell he’s cumming, thanks to the way he’s breathing. The image of his cumming into his own hand finishes you, has you moaning and clenching around your fingers.
You keep your eyes closed as you try to catch your breath, pulling your hands out of your panties. Sebastian is silent on the other line, except for the occasional grunt and the sound of him moving around. Once he’s cleaned up, you hear him clear his voice.
“Come over tomorrow,”
You open your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows. You sit up, looking over at your phone. What is he trying to do? You don’t need to go over there tomorrow. You need to get as far away as possible as you can.
You don’t want to go over there. Not tomorrow, not ever. He’s a horrible man; he’s killed people. But still, you find it hard to flat out say no.
“Uh, I can’t,” You say, quickly pulling the blankets over your bare legs. You suddenly feel exposed— like you’re being watched.
Sebastian is silent on the other end, has you regretting your decision. Should you have just gone? Is he going to be mad?
“Why not?”
You gulp, your heart hammering in your chest. You just rejected a murderer.
What the hell is wrong with you??
You scramble to come up with an excuse, your mind racing. You blurt out the first thing you can think of, which also happens to be a lie. “I have a date,”
You halfway expect Sebastian to hang up or to start shouting. But he doesn’t. He laughs.
“Is that right?” He asks, his voice laced with amusement. You furrow your eyebrows, suddenly infuriated.
“Yes, that is right!” You say, listening to him laugh. Does he think you can’t get a date? Does he think you’re not cool enough for a date?
“I don’t believe you,” Sebastian says, his laugh subsiding. Your cheeks are turning red from anger as you grab your phone, thumb hovering over the ‘end’ button.
“Well, I do, and I’m not coming over!” You say, clicking the end button.
You lay down on your back, crossing your arms over your chest.
As of this morning, you didn’t have a date and you didn’t want a date.
But as of right now, you have a date tomorrow night. You’re not sure when, where, or with who, but you’re going to do it just to prove Sebastian wrong.
Warning: mentions of guns, murder, mafia!sebastian, cheating (not involving reader), dark themes obvs, angst,
Summary: When a customer offers to take you on a date, you never imagined you’d end up with blood on your dress.
A/n: This is different for me, but I think I really like it! Obviously there’s going to be another part, so keep your eye out for this new series!
“And that’ll be $24.99,” You say, flashing a smile at your customer. You watch as she walks out, carrying her small bag. The bakery is busy with workers— some cleaning up tables, some baking fresh goodies, some putting away supplies…
The soft music overhead seems to fade out when he walks in. You never get used to seeing him walk through those doors. You always expect it, but somehow, it always catches you off guard.
Ever since you opened your bakery up two years ago, he’s come in every single Wednesday. Without fail.
He always buys the same thing, 2 rainbow cake pops and a bottle of water to wash it down. The first time he came in, you had to have someone else to check him out. You were so flustered you could barely focus.
His blonde hair and blue eyes were too much for you to handle.
“Y/n, how are you today?” Landon asks, walking up to the counter. His broad shoulders are covered with a brown leather jacket, complimenting his forest green sweater perfectly.
You blush, jerking your head over to your baking station. “Follow me, wanna show you something,” You say, completely ignoring his question. You reach behind your waist and tighten your apron, wanting it to look as flattering as possible.
Even though Landon’s been coming in the store for two years, he’s never seen you outside of work. You keep thinking he’ll ask you on a date, or even ask for your number, but he never does. He only sees you with your hair in a bun, flour in your hair, and dressed in an old apron.
Landon follows you to where your mixer is, curiosity running through his veins. “Don’t tell me you’re tweaking your recipes,” He starts, raising an eyebrow. He looks around your counter, seeing your ingredients spread out. “You know what I always say— don’t mess with perfection,”
You giggle quietly as you pick up a small cupcake, topped with rainbow icing. You motion for Landon to take a bite, your smile spreading across your face. You had been working on this recipe for weeks, wanting to get it just right.
Landon closes his eyes as he takes a bite, his pink lips grazing your dainty fingers. Your heart skips a beat as you wait for his response, the noise of the bakery drowning out in the background. Landon hums as he licks his lips, a smile spreading out across his face. “This is amazing, y/n, what is this?”
“It’s the same thing as the cake pops you order, just—“
“Lando!” You hear a voice ring out, causing your head to snap to the bakery door. There’s a tall man standing in the doorway, his arms open, a smug smirk on his face. He’s dressed in a black suit, rings decorating his slender fingers.
Landon’s body language changes immediately, his shoulders tensing up and his smile vanishing. You move your head back to Landon, a confused look on your face. You don’t know anything about the man at the door, but you know something’s not right.
Before you can ask Landon who his friend is, the man at the door walks behind the counter, eyeing you up and down. You’ve never felt more naked.
“You can’t come back here,” You say, meeting his eyes. The man seems uncomfortable with the eye contact, but he doesn’t back down.
“Landon, introduce me to your friend,” He says, extending his hand. You flicker your eyes down to his knuckles, noticing the bruises hiding under the gold rings. Landon clears his throat, nodding over to you.
“Uh, this is y/n,” He says, grimacing as Sebastian chuckles deeply. Sebastian looks you up and down, licking his lips. You can feel a shiver run up and down your spine, practically shrinking your image. You don’t like the way he’s staring at you, you’ve never had someone look at you like this.
Sebastian tears his eyes from you, looking back at Landon. “This is the one you’ve been talking about, huh?” He asks, a smug look on his face. Your heart skips a beat as you imagine Landon talking about you.
It’s clear these men are friends, but you can’t ever imagine them interacting together. Landon is so… Soft. He eats rainbow cake pops and giggles and blushes.
The man before you is so rugged. Dressed in black, bruises on his knuckles, smug.
“Why don’t you ask her on a date?”
The question— no, order— takes you by surprise. For years, you’ve been flirting with Landon with no date in sight. What is this man’s end game? Why, after 2 years, is he in your bakery, demanding Landon to take you on a date?
Landon clears his throat, doing his best to fake a smile. If you were anybody else, it would convince you. “Sebastian is hosting a dinner party Friday. I’d love if you came with me,”
Dinner party? Sebastian? It only now occurs to you that you were never properly introduced to the man, only telling him your name. Sebastian doesn’t seem like the type to host a dinner party.
He seems like the type to scoff at dinner parties.
But still, Landon is asking you on a date. Who are you to question what Sebastian likes or doesn’t like? You’ve been waiting on this for two years.
So, you smile, your cheeks blushing. “I’ll be there,”
————
Your eyes widen as the house comes into view, the reality of your date setting in. You were shocked when Landon pulled up in a luxury car, the red leather matching your black dress perfectly, but nothing could’ve prepared you for this fucking mansion.
“Is this yours?” You ask, breathless. The car ride there was silent, except for the occasional question here and there. You can’t help but notice Landon is completely different outside of the bakery.
His jokes, his laughter, his charisma… It’s all gone.
You chalk it up to the nervousness of the date, forcing yourself to relax and enjoy the moment. Landon glances over at you as he puts the car in park, behind the many other black cars in the driveway. “No, this is Sebastian’s place. It’s been in his family for years,” He says, unbuckling his seatbelt.
Sebastian.
You’d almost forgotten the arrogant man would be here. After all, it is his party you’re going to.
“Speaking of Sebastian, what’s up with him?” You ask, watching as Landon gets out of the car. You keep your eyes on him as he walks to your side, opening your door. His black dress shirt is tight against his biceps, his gold chain dangling from his neck.
Landon chuckles lightly, shaking his head. “He’s something, that’s for sure,”
He leads you to the doorway, placing his hand on the small of your back. The gesture forms butterflies in your stomach, distracting you from the way Landon uses a key to get into the house. As the door opens, music floods your ears, lights glaring in your face.
There are close to a hundred people in the large room, all dressed in their best. Suddenly, you feel insecure about your choice of outfit. Sure, you look good, but not as good as some of these women.
“Lando!” You hear a voice shout, causing you to roll your eyes. You’d hoped you be able to avoid Sebastian for at least a little bit. You don’t know what it is about Sebastian that you can’t stand, but you’d prefer if you never had to see him again.
Landon stiffens beside of you, chuckling nervously. You watch as Sebastian makes his way over to you, a smug smile on his face. Once again, he’s dressed in a dark suit, his hair slicked back. You can’t deny he’s a good looking guy, but you can’t get over how cocky he is.
“Seb,” Landon says, moving his hand from your back, extending it to shake Sebastian’s hand. Sebastian keeps his eyes on you the whole time, looking you up and down.
“Y/n,” He says, his voice dropping. You can’t be bothered to respond to him, knowing he’ll take whatever you say and spin it. You scoff, walking off, over to where the open bar is. You quickly order your fruity drink, already ready to end this night.
You wish your first date with Landon would’ve been something else, something different, but you’ll take what you can get after your ex-boyfriend. You haven’t been on a date in YEARS, thanks to your pickiness and your standards. You can feel Sebastian staring a hole through you, unfamiliar with women brushing him off.
Sebastian clears his throat, raising the glass in his hand. The light music stops, the dancing coming to a halt. “Now that everyone is here, we can finally enjoy the party,” He announces, catching your attention.
He was waiting for you for the party to begin?
You shake your head, slightly rolling your eyes. Why did your absence from the party make a difference? And what does he even mean, anyway? The party seemed to be doing just fine without you. Sebastian walks the perimeter of the room, his eyes on each person he passes.
Most people are frozen– because of fear or interest, you don’t know.
The overhead light shines down on him, your eye catching the glimpse of the gun tucked in the back of his pants. The gun heightens your attention, your blood pumping through your veins. Why is this civilian carrying a gun? It’s not something you see every day, certainly not at such a formal event.
Then again, you know Sebastian is no ordinary man, despite only meeting him twice.
“Most of you know why we’re here, right? To celebrate 15 years in the business,” Sebastian announces, glancing over at an older man. The older man resembles Sebastian, except for the grey hair and the extra weight.
“Well, 15 years since dad so kindly handed the business over to me,”
You sense tension in the room, but you’re not sure why. Everyone seems to be having a good time. Everyone seems to be completely focused on Sebastian.
The room is completely silent, which is not what you expected. You expected the room to explode in applause and whistles, congratulating their friend for his success in “The Business”. You grip your drink tighter, suddenly feeling claustrophobic.
This isn’t right.
You dare to be the first person to move, making your way to Landon, who’s frozen in his spot. “I want to leave,” You whisper, your eyes darting across the room.
You wouldn’t say you’ve necessarily been sheltered your whole life, but you’ve never felt like this before. You’ve never felt so unsure of what was happening, but so sure that your safety is in jeopardy. Sebastian goes silent again, your hair standing up on the back of your neck.
You hear his steady footsteps against the hard floor, stopping when he’s less than a foot away from you. “What some of you don’t know is that we’ve had money missing,”
You tear your eyes away from Landon, standing next to him, your eyes meeting Sebastian’s.
Money?
Your chest rises and falls as you try to regulate your heart rate. Everything in you is telling you to run.
So why can’t you?
Out of the corner of your eye, you see 10 men step out from the crowd, standing slightly behind the man in front of you. You can’t help but to notice something you’ve not noticed before.
“Money, that I’m fairly certain I left Landon to watch over,” Sebastian says, his arm reaching behind his back. Your head snaps over to Landon, your eyes wide. Has he stolen money from Sebastian? You didn’t take him as a criminal.
Why would Landon take money from his boss? What business does Sebastian run?
Landon swallows the lump in his throat, his throat tightening. When you look back at the men in front of you, Sebastian has a gun pointing at Landon’s head. You can’t process it before Sebastian is ordering Landon to get on his knees.
You stare back at Sebastian, your eyes filling with tears. This isn’t how you expected your first date to go. Your life is in danger because of this man, because of this stranger. You thought after two years of flirting back and forth, seeing him every week, you knew him.
But you were wrong.
You’re not sure what kind of “business” Sebastian is running, but you’re fairly certain you won’t be making it out alive.
“What a shame, huh? I really liked you,” Sebastian says, keeping eye contact with Landon. He smirks, letting out a deep chuckle. “Liked your wife better, though,”
You suck in a sharp breath as Landon clenches his jaw, staring up at Sebastian. “What did you do to my wife?!” He shouts, his face red.
Wife.
Your bottom lip starts trembling, blindsided by this news. Sebastian turns his head to you, his smile gone, replaced by a pitied pout. “Aw, I’m sorry sweetheart. I didn’t want you to find out this way, but something had to be done,” He pouts, his voice laced with humor.
Your attention is brought back to the gun when Sebastian takes a step forward, pressing the barrel of the gun to Landon’s forehead. You tear your eyes away, looking out into the crowd. They all seem so unphased; why isn’t anyone doing anything?
Why isn’t anyone calling the cops?
Before you can put two and two together, a loud bang rings out beside you, followed by a loud thump. No one in the crowd even flinches, but you jump out of your skin, traumatized. You feel the stickiness of the blood splattered on your skin, on your dress, but you can’t do anything about it.
You bring yourself to look beside you, your eyes filling with tears as you watch blood pool out of Landon’s head. With a simple whistle, Sebastian’s 10 men are moving to drag Landon out of the room, without so much as an explanation.
Sebastian turns his back to you, opening his arms. “Let’s get back to it,” He shouts, earning cheers from the crowd. You stand, frozen, tears running down your cheeks. While everyone else is dancing and drinking, you’re left to deal with what just happened.
If it wasn’t clear before, it’s clear now: Something is deathly wrong with this party.
You drop your glass, letting it shatter at your feet. You grasp your dress, your feet running before your mind can even catch up. You weave and bob through the people, pushing the front door open. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your breath stinging in your throat. You run until you can no longer hear the music, until you can no longer smell the smell of death.
You’re not sure where you are, or how long you’ve been running, but you sit down on the sidewalk, sobbing. Your feet are aching, your legs are burning, and you can hear the sound of the gunshot ringing in your ears.
You try to figure out exactly where it all went wrong. Was it when Landon first walked into your bakery? Was it when he finally made a move? Was it when Sebastian walked in?
You go back to every Wednesday for two years, wondering what you could’ve done differently to avoid this. You should’ve saw the signs, you should’ve known he was married, should’ve known he worked for some psychopath.
You bury your face in your hands, your tears drying against your bloodstained cheeks.
What do you do after this? Do you go back to work and pretend nothing happened? Do you go to the cops?
What do you do when someone you barely knew gets murdered?
What do you do when you watch someone get murdered?
What do you do when you like the rush of it all?
What do you do when you like the way your adrenaline runs through your body?
What do you do when you like the idea of having a dirty secret?
What do you do when you like the way the murder made you feel?
A/N: I TRIED SOMETHING NEW, SO I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!
WARNING- SMUT, 18+ MATERIAL. DO NOT READ UNDER THE AGE OF 18
This mission was different than most, only four of you had been chosen to dive into the world of Hydra and attempt to extract valuable information to take Hydra down. Steve and Buck were on the other side of the compound while Sam and yourself were on the other side attempting to breach the communication center to take over their eyes and ears.
Bullets whizzed past your head as you turned down a darkened hallway, the gasp that escaped your lips seemed deadly as you reloaded you weapon. You could hear the assailants getting closer to your corner as you continued to reload as fast as your human body could move. You may be assassin but you could only move so quickly.
As you went to make your move, aiming for their heads. Sam went to pull you back, in his eyes back to safety, in yours to be a pain in the ass.
“Let me go, now.” You gritted through your teeth as his grip loosened, you went to turn the corner again but only came face to face with Bucky and Steve. They had taken down every assailant before turning to you, taking in your annoyed expression.
The glare you were sending their way was fatal, they did this every single time. Every time they thought you wouldn’t be able to handle the heat on your own. So of course, this is nothing different, but this time you weren’t biting your tongue about it.
“I had it; you should have let me finish this damn mission.” You grunted, pushing past them before making your way to the Quinjet.
You sat in your seat, running your battered hands through your long hair. You could feel blood running down your cheeks, most likely from a cut on your forehead, as your hair kept sticking to it.
“Dammit” You said, throwing your gear across the Quinjet, the anger still radiating off of you as you heard the guys loading their stuff back onto the jet before heading back to Stark Tower.
“You good?” Sam asked as he took a seat next to you before Bucky and Steve loaded up.
You were holding back tears as you looked at him, “Honestly- no. I am so over feeling un-helpful when I know I’m good at my job. I know I can do this. But he thinks I can’t- The fucking Winter Solider, my own damn boyfriend thinks I can’t do my own job. And now I am too the point I want to leave.” You said, a single tear running down your cheek as you made eye contact with Sam.
He just gave you this look of sadness, “Don’t do that, you can’t leave.”
“Can’t leave what?” Bucky said trying to catch your eyes and you looked to the floorboards. He was trying to read your face, but you weren’t going to give anything away- not to him.
“None of your business, Barnes” You hissed at him as he sulked into his seat next to Steve as the Quinjet was being fired up.
You just closed your eyes trying not to focus on the events of today, you just wanted to be back at the tower and in your room away from everyone else.
Before you knew it the Quinjet was touching down again, the rough landing drew you from your slumber. You looked around checking your surroundings before gathering your things.
You quickly stepped out of the jet, making your way to your room. You were halfway off the helipad before someone grabbed your arm, spinning you towards them.
Of course, it was no other than Sargent James Buchanan Barnes, the man who you love when he doesn’t turn into a complete ass.
“What is the problem? I saved you ass back there” He said, glaring down at me.
“You- you are my fucking problem” You said, tearing your arm away from him and made your way back to your room in the tower.
You could not make it to your room faster, the door sliding behind you brought the blissful silence that you so deeply needed. A loud sigh escaped past your lips as you laid down your gear, carefully stripping off your uniform. Gasping as it slipped past a large bruise forming on your upper shoulder.
You made your way to your large bathroom, turning the shower on the steam quickly filling the large space. Looking in the mirror, you took in your appearance. An expansive cut was your forehead, dried blood stuck to your forehead and cheeks, even the evidence of a black eye forming.
A sigh escaped your lips as you stepped under the steaming water, the hot feeling good on your bruised and battered body. The water slowly turning a reddish-brown color due to the blood streaming off your body.
Closing your eyes, you just thought about the mission and how you wish it had gone differently. You knew you could handle the mission, but of course Buck thought you can’t do anything without breaking a nail or accidentally shooting yourself in the foot.
You just shook your head trying to focus on anything else but the mission and how you were being treated. The bubbles from your shampoo mixed with the steamy water, as you just tried to relax.
Could you really step away from the Avengers? Could you really just leave this new world? Could you step away from Bucky forever?
You left out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in as you turned the water off, your stomach growled as you dried yourself off. Trying to think about what tomorrow could bring, you threw on your pajamas, also meaning shorts and a large hoodie with fuzzy socks.
You tossed your wet hair over your shoulder as you made your way to the kitchen, just praying that everyone was still in their rooms or even better asleep. You could hear the peanut butter calling your name as you rounded the corner, only to come face to face with the one person you were trying to avoid.
“Hey Baby” He said, looking up from his files that were spread around the kitchen island, multiple pictures of former Hydra members scattered around with their own individual files.
You barely looked at him as you opened the kitchen cabinet, pulling out the crunchy peanut butter and a spoon. Leaning against the counter you just kept sparing him looks as his brow was scrunched together as he read more of his files.
“You want to stop looking at me or are you going to talk to me?” He grumbled at you, looking up from his files. The bruising on his face was noticeable, and so was the split lip he was sporting. Clearly you weren’t the only one who had some reminders of today’s mission.
You just smirked at him, you were annoyed with him and you weren’t going to engage in whatever he thought he was going to get away with saying to you.
Placing your spoon in the sink, you started to stroll back out of the kitchen just barely passing Bucky. You felt his metal hand wrap around your wrist, making you stop in place.
“I don’t want to talk to you” You said bluntly, trying to pull your already bruised wrist out of his cold hand.
“Well too bad- we need to talk about today. Cause you clearly have some kind of problem with me and how I do my job on missions” He said, turning towards you before standing to his feet causing you to step back as his height overtook your small frame.
“I don’t want to talk about this with you. I have absolutely nothing to say about today. I don’t want to talk to you, okay? Get that through your head please. I am so tired of people trying to protect me and keep me from doing my job. So please- leave me the hell alone Buck.” You said, standing your ground. It was a clear a fight was coming, and you didn’t have the energy to even try to defend yourself or your actions.
“I was trying to protect you! And everyone else on that mission, that is something we need to talk about. Not you ignore me because you’re mad at me cause I stepped in your way. You know I couldn’t live with myself if something was to happen to you.” He said, trying to step towards you more but you kept stepping back away from him.
“Are you kidding me? You think you are so high and mighty, and you aren’t Bucky. You aren’t as special as you think you are! I was perfectly fine until you stepped in my way! I know how to do my job, but I cannot do it when you are all over me.” You finally screamed at him, clearly frustrated by the man you had come to care and love.
“Maybe next time don’t try and get yourself killed! Then maybe I wouldn’t be so obligated to come save your stupid ass” He screamed back, watching the tears stream down your face.
You let out a deep breath, tears continuing to dampen your flustered cheeks, you turned towards the door attempting to walk away from this toxic situation.
You wanted nothing more than to escape this tower, escape from him and his ego. You were just so done.
Before you could pass through the doorway- his metal hand wrapped around your bruised wrist, spinning you close into his chest.
“Let me go Bucky” The anger evident in your voice and you attempted to pull your wrist away from him.
His eyes darkened as he looked at you, analyzing every feature of your face before speaking.
“That’s Sargent to you.” A smirk appearing on his face as he closed the distant between you, his lips on yours as the metallic taste of blood danced on your tongue from his split lip.
A slight moan escaped from your lips as the kiss continued to intensify, you gently pulled at his matted hair causing a guttural sound to escape his lips. His lips pulled away slowly looking for the sweet spot under your jaw that makes you go crazy.
“Oh Buck…” You moaned loudly, your voice bouncing off the kitchen walls. It would like your moan was in utter surround sound.
He pulled away, darkened eyes looking deep into your eyes before speaking in a low tone, “That’s not my name angel.”
You leaned in close, your hot breath hitting his ear, “Oh I’m sorry…. Sargent Barnes”
A shutter rippled through his body as he threw you over his shoulder, making his way over to Tony’s new and very expensive couch. Tossing you down, the armrest digging into your bruised back, only causing a moan to escape from you.
“Tony is going to kill us…” You moaned as he rutted his hips against yours, slowly grinding against your clothed heat. But that only added to the pleasure as you were already dripping wet.
“I don’t care” He silently moaned against your ear, as he found his way to your sweet spot under your jaw once again. Leaving a liter of hickey’s as he made his way down your body, slowly stripping you of your hoodie. Your nipples becoming hard as the cold air rushed onto your exposed skin.
A low moan escaped from you as he made his way down your neck before working his way to your breasts. He shot you a small glance as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, the contact sending your eyes to roll back into your head. The pleasure taking over your body, you were ready to give everything to this man.
You grinded your hips against his, your juices continuing to leak from you as you were a moaning mess under him. He made his way back up to your lips, kissing them so gently as he stripped off his shirt, and began to remove your shorts which barely covered anything.
You let out a shaky breath as he grazed your clit with his metal fingers, which only caused a ripple of pleasure to travel through you. He couldn’t help but smirk at the bucking of your hips.
“You’re leaking baby” He said, rubbing his thumb across your clit almost too slow for your liking. He knew exactly what he was doing as he continued to press his thumb into your clit, as he slowly enters two fingers into your leaking cunt. You couldn’t help yourself as your eyes rolled back into your head, the pleasure building inside of you.
Your legs began to tremble as your orgasm was quickly approaching, you could hear the wet sounds of your cunt as he continued to press his fingers deep inside of you, hitting your most sensitive spot.
“Please- I’m gonna…Sargent…” You began to pant out as your legs continue to tremble even more.
“Go.” Was all he had to say before you came undone under him, you became a mess of moans as you felt your cunt pulse around his fingers as he continued to pump in and out of you.
“I need you…” You said as you grinded your leaking cunt against his hand even more, he couldn’t help but groan as he fished his thick length out of his sweats. His tip was swollen, and red with precum started to leak.
He stroked himself a few times before guiding himself to your opening, stretching your cunt to accommodate his size. He gave you no time to adjust before he began thrusting into you at a fast speed.
The frantic pace was too much for your pleasure riddled body as you could feel your cunt started to pulse again, your orgasm was only seconds away. You arched your back as the orgasm began to overwhelm your body, sending your eyes straight back into your head.
He threw his head back as he felt his high approaching, he just took in the glorious appearance under him as you continued to fall apart under him.
“I’m close” He moaned as he continued to hit your sensitive spot with such force, only causing the pleasure to increase even more.
“Fill me up….” Was all you worked out in-between your panting. He smiled down at you before snapping his hips one more time, spilling hit warm seed deep inside of you. Only causing you to pulse even more around his throbbing dick.
He collapsed on top of you, just taking in this moment and taking in you.
“I love you… only you” You said as you pushed his matted, sweaty hair out of his face. A smile appeared on his face, as he pressed his lips to yours, hard.
“I love you so much” He said, brushing your wet hair out of your face, taking in every feature as he continued to study you.
You opened your mouth to say something when a voice came over the loudspeaker, “Mr. Stark would like to inform you that you owe him a new couch And also to say that was more than disturbing”
You both couldn’t help but laugh as the loudspeaker cut out again. In a world where the Winter Solider used to be nothing but a killer. Here he is now, in all his glory as the one man who would do anything to keep your safe.
Summary: Caught in an anti-hero demonstration, you become an unwilling participant in a political game of tug of war. Tony Stark wants you to be the new poster child for his pro-Avengers rhetoric, Nick Fury wants you to fade into the background, and Bucky Barnes… wants something else from you entirely.
Warnings: Near Death Experience, Noncon, Stalking, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Smut, Breeding. Blackmail, Infidelity, Dark!AU, Grey/Dark Avengers AU, Dead dove Do not eat
A/N: um. i think you all could see the signs that things were about to go from zero to sixty with the ending of the last chapter, but just in case you didn’t, here’s your warning. updated the warnings a bit to reflect the content from here on out! bottom divider by @firefly-graphics!
The work below is my own, and is unbeta’d and unedited. I do not consent for it to be translated and or posted elsewhere by anyone but myself. Minors, DNI!
Bucky leaves shortly after Patrick gets back, and you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, very wrong, for the rest of the day. While you shower, as you go through the stretches the physical therapist taught you, as you run loving fingers through Pat’s hair. The wrongness won’t abate, won’t leave you alone.
The Black Widow arrives a few hours later, and declines your hesitant offer to come inside. No thank you, she’d said with a tart smile. I’m better from outside. Patrick is just grateful to have the apartment back, spreading out on the couch and surfing channels aimlessly. You, on the other hand, can’t stop turning over this morning’s events in your head, gnawing at it like a dog with a bone.
The cold hand, the beard, the voice that wasn’t Pat’s—
Your stomach fills with lead.
Youknow what the truth is, but you can barely even think it. It doesn’t make sense, for one, that Bucky would sneak into your room and do that.He’s half a celebrity, and while you buy about half of the populace running away screaming, you know the other half would walk readily right into his bed. There was no need to dally with you.
So why did he?
Why did he pretend to be Patrick, slither between your thighs and—
You clench them shut, your stomach lurching with shame as your cunt pulses at the memory. It isn’t your fault it felt good, you know that, but the shame eats away at you anyway. And Pat—you don’t know how he’d react to the knowledge, and you don’t want to find out. You clench your fists under the knitted blanket Patrick’s mother had given the two of you at your engagement party last year.
You don’t know when you’ll see Bucky next and your stomach flops nervously at the thought of being alone with him after what happened. He’d seemed so nice before, if a little stoic; you don’t understand the shift, can’t make sense of it.
And it certainly doesn’t help that you’re essentially house-bound, unable to drive your car without the go-ahead from Doctor Bradford. You feel trapped, like you’re just waiting for the predator to circle round again, to take another meaty bite out of you.
And what a bite he’d taken.
You can’t find it in yourself to leave your bubble of alternating self-deprecation and loathing for Bucky’s transgression, you’re surprised when Patrick starts getting ready for his night shift. It’s with grim resignation that you watch him step into his nurse’s shoes—the ones you’d teased him about more than once—and pin his tag on his shirt, right onto the pocket, like always.
“Babe? You good? You’ve been quiet all day.” Patrick is shrugging into his scrubs, and his voice rouses you from your anxiety driven fugue. “I can call off if you want.” On one hand, you do, you really do—you want Pat to stay, to help you confront Bucky for what he did to you—
But the larger part of you, the part that echoes with your father’s drilled-in shame, doesn’t even want Patrick to know. You don’t want him thinking of you as damaged goods, the woman who couldn’t even recognize her own fiancé’s voice. His mother already hated you, and you were loathe to give her more reason to mistrust you.
No, better for you to handle this on your own. For once you were glad for the insistent beeping of his pager as they contacted him again—rushing him in, putting a pin back into the grenade of this line of discussion.
“I’m good. Sorry, I’m just tired. I think it’s the pills.” You offer him a watery smile. “You go.” He does, with one last, almost mistrustful look at you over his shoulder.
“Call if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay.”
—
You twiddle your thumbs in the emptiness of your apartment, wondering what you’ll say, what you’ll do when Bucky shows up for guard duty, so much so that when Natasha raps on your door with her knuckles, you almost throw up from nerves.
“I’m headed out,” she says as you pull the door open. “Steve’ll be here shortly, if he’s not here already.” It sends a cool wave of relief through you to know it won’t be Bucky you see next, and you nod gratefully.
“How long, um, do you think we’ll have to do all this?” You ask, steadying yourself against the door. “The whole, um. Bodyguard thing.”
“Probably until the press dies down. Another couple of weeks, at most. We already got a few pings just from presence at the junket.” Her voice is confident, assured. It makes you want to trust her confidence. She turns to leave, but stops, hesitating. “Here, take my number. Just in case. And only for emergencies, understand?” She replies sternly, and you nod quickly.
“Thanks.”
You hobble back to the living room, and begin your best attempt at tidying up with only the use of one hand, a crutch held under the other. When the buzzer rings, you answer with confidence, pressing the intercom button.
“Yes?”
“Hey. It’s me. Can you buzz me in?”
“Oh, Steve. Sure.” You move to press the door button, and the familiar buzz sounds through the speaker. You wait patiently by the door for Steve to get there, tugging open the door as his footfalls approach the landing.
“Hiya, doll.” Bucky grins at you as he rounds the corner. No.You gape at him, unable to speak as you sputter. “Surprised to see me? Steve had something come up, something with the baby—”
You slam the door, sliding the deadbolt across it with trembling fingers. It’s instinct more than anything, but you’re glad for it when his body thuds against the door only a second or two later.
“You need to leave, Bucky,” you say shakily. “Get out of here!”
“Doll, what? Why? Something wrong?” It makes your stomach roll to hear him ask so genuinely, all while the feeling of his hands on your body burns in your memory. He raps on the door hard, and you can hear his heavy breath.
“You… you have to go, Bucky. I know what you did this morning, okay? I… I fucking know!”
There’s silence from the other side of the door, and then a heavy sigh.
“Goddammit.”There’s another knock. “Sweetheart, open the door and let’s talk about it. Come on. Let’s be adults about this.”
There’s a casual kind of coolness in his tone that makes you both angry and terrified, like he’d forseen this outcome—
Planned for it.
“No. You need to leave. You need to leave, a-and I’m going to tell Tony what you did—” This time, it isn’t Bucky’s voice that interrupts you—it’s your own.
“God!”
“What? What is that?”
“F-fuck, I—”
Your face heats as you realize what he’s doing. He’s playing something, a recording—
A recording of this morning.
Before you can think about it, consider what you’re doing, your hands are flying to the locks, practically tearing off the deadbolt.
“Stop, it, shut that off—” The door slams inward, and it narrowly misses pulping you against the wall you as you scramble away. You hit the floor with an oof, your crutches clattering to the ground beside you. “Bucky…”
He tosses you the phone as he steps over the threshold, closing the door behind him. He makes sure to set the lockandthe deadbolt, turning to grin at you over his shoulder.
“For interruptions.” Bucky squats down in front of you, and motions down at the phone in your lap. “Oh, that’s my favorite part.” You don’t want to look down, but it’s like you can’t stop yourself, your eyes drifting to the screen. You watch yourself writhing on your bed, one thick, flesh hand, one metal, holding your thighs apart while Bucky feasts on you.
You toss the phone away as if it’s burned you.
“Why would you do that?” You murmur, hot angry tears gathering in your eyes. He sighs, running a hand through his thick hair.
“I’m sorry, doll. I am. I…” He hesitates, before shrugging, like there’s no point in keeping it from you now. “I thought those pills’d have you under for a little longer.” The apologetic smile he gives you is chilling, instead of relatable. “I just couldn’t wait anymore. I’m not patient, you know?”
“What? What are you—”
“I saved your life.” He states the irrefutable fact with a completely straight face. “Didn’t I?” Bucky reaches forward to brush a lock of hair out of your face, and you go completely rigid at the motion. “You know, there’s some cultures that believe if you save a life, you own it. You know that, doll?”
All of the anger goes out of you at once—and is replaced by ice cold terror.
“I asked you a question sweetheart, please answer me.”
It’s night impossible to swallow the ball of panic in your throat but you manage, somehow.
“Y-yes. I kn-know that.”
“Thank you. In ancient Rome, a savior was regarded as a sort of… second father. But that’s not really what I want. Unless,” Bucky grins cheekily down at you, “you’re into that sort of thing.”
You don’t laugh, and he sighs. “Look, I like you. You’re sweet. And… I can protect you. Patrick can barely keep your heads above water,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “I can’t believe that’s what passes for a man these days.”
The urge to defend your fiancé is tamped down easily by your fear—you know what this man can do.
“I understand it might take some… time. For you to come around. So, I’m prepared to offer you a deal.”
“A deal?” You echo him hoarsely, attempting to blink back tears and failing. “What deal?”
“Well, I’m not going to post your film debut online for the world to see,” he holds up the phone, wiggling it for emphasis. “But I expect certain…allowances in return.” You don’t miss the way his eyes sweep down your body. This time, you can’t hold your tongue.
“What? No! I’m not touching you, I—”
“I get this is new for you doll, and while I’m a… modern man in a lot of ways, I’m not going to tolerate disrespect just because I’m sweet on you.” His eyes go hard. “I could have let you bleed out on the museum floor, after all.” Your breath hitches and time seems to slow as he leans in closer. His large hand is warm on your thigh through your thin leggings.
“Iown you, doll. And depending on which way I spin our beautiful first moment, I can bring down this whole house of cards you’ve built for yourself. This?” He gestures around at your apartment, but you get his larger meaning, “Only lasts as long as I say it does.” He squeezes your thigh, and then reaches up to caress your cheek like a lover, like he hadn’t just delivered a terrifying threat. “So I wouldn’t piss me off. Understand?”
You take a few seconds longer than he’d like to answer, and his lips press into a frown.
“Y-yes, Bucky,” you manage to squeak out around the other words in your throat. “I understand.”
“Good. Let’s get you up, doll. That doesn’t look comfortable at all.” He helps you to your feet with a patience that rivals Pat’s, and you swallow the futile scream that builds when he fixes you with that soft, gentle smile. “Let’s go pick out a movie, or something. We’ve got all night.”
—
Bucky is stifling.
He won’t give you a moment’s peace; standing practically hip to hip with you in the kitchen as you microwave the popcorn, standing over your shoulder as you return texts from your sister that you’d been ignoring—like he was trying to tacitly remind you of his imagined claim on your body, on your soul.
But what did it matter, imagined or not, if he had the power to enforce it?
The last thing you want is for Patrick to see that video, to see the absolute worst of you—for the world to see it. It doesn’t matter now that you’d been an unwilling participant, and if not unwilling then certainly unknowing—no one will believe it, not when they watch you writhing under his touch.
You barely do.
You sit stiffly, holding onto the popcorn in a white-knuckled grip. His metal arm falls around you, and he squeezes you affectionately.
“See?” He says, nuzzling against your throat. Your own breath hitches—both because it’s strangely natural,like the affection is real, and because you’re disgusted with yourself for considering whatever twisted thing he’d built up in his own head as valid for even a second. “Doesn’t have to be so bad.”
What choice do I have?
Until you can get help, tell someone—anyone—you’re stuck, completely at his mercy. You hadn’t been able to understand his breach of trust, not until he’d explained himself, and everything had clicked into place with horrible clarity. His overt overprotectiveness, the way he’d begun methodically inserting himself into your life. Even now, he traces patterns on the exposed skin of your arm, the cool metal leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“Feel like you’re too far away, doll,” he drawls, and reluctantly you look up at him. He pats the thickest part of his thigh with a heavy hand. “Want you right here, close to me.” Your stomach lurches at his request. Sitting next to him is the most you can manage, you don’t want anything else. The movie drones on in the background as you stare at one another, and you know you don’t have long before Bucky’s patience runs out.
“I-I—” You can’t swallow the lump in your throat so you try to speak around it. “Bucky, I don’t—”
“You’re nervous. I get that,” he cuts you off, running his hands up and down your sides in smooth gentle movements, like he’s trying to calm a panicked animal. You suppose you are—you’re terrified, your heart pounding as Bucky’s fingers sink into the meat of your hips. You let out a shrill squeak as he lifts you, settling you across his thigh.
“But you don’t have to be, not with me.” Hot tears, indignant tears, well in your eyes, and you try not to let them fall. Bucky’s breath is hot against the back of your neck. “I’m going to take good care of you.” You know his promise is supposed to inspire confidence, but the only thing you feel is the slow creep of dread, sinking into everything.
This is really happening.
You want to wake up from this, but there isno waking from it—Bucky’s hands are warm as they massage you through the thin fabric of your leggings, his pleased sighs ringing in your ear as he familiarizes himself with your body. There’s no relaxing either, your body taut as a tightrope perched on his knee. To any onlooker, you know this looks like a date-night—a movie, snacks, two people cuddled close—but the pounding of your heart, the tremor in your hands, you can’t hide those. Someone onscreen laughs, and Bucky chuckles too, the sound vibrating against your back.
“You feel tense, sweetheart,” He murmurs, and you wince as he drags his lips down the exposed skin at your shoulder until he meets cloth. “I can help.” His hungry hands come to rest on your thighs, his thumbs massaging circles into the taut muscle. You try to snap your thighs shut, wiggle off of his lap, but Bucky is stronger than you are—by far. It doesn’t even seem like it taxes him in the least to keep you seated as he locks an arm around your belly, anchoring you to him.
“Shh, shh,” he smooths his other hand over your hair. “You’ll feel so much better, doll, I know it.” Fresh horror blooms in you as he strokes along your inner thigh with light fingers, mumbling his appreciation for you in a low, reverent voice.
“So soft…” You can feel the thick length of his cock pressing up between the cheeks of your ass, and you choke on your horrified gasp. “See how hard you got me, sweetheart? S’all for you.” Your mouth opens, and you inhale a breath to scream—
Bucky’s metal hand closes around your throat, squeezing just hard enough to limit your air.
“Oh, baby. I wouldn’t.” His other hand doesn’t stop moving, stroking the skin of your belly under your t-shirt. “You think I won’t fuck you if your neighbors come watch?” The blood curdles in your veins at his frankness. “I don’t mind if the whole world watches you cum on my face, sweetheart—and believe me, it’s a pretty sight. In fact, I think that might make this a whole lot easier, don’t you? If everyone knows, then—”
“Please,” you croak, tugging ineffectually at his arm. He releases his hold on your throat, and you gasp and cough as the air floods back into your lungs. You don’t want Patrick to know, to see. Without Pat, you’d be alone, adrift in the world. He’d made you feel like you could do more than just be your father’s replacement for your mother, to take care of him until he was six feet in the ground. Like you owed it to her memory to be something—like you owed it to yourself.
Bucky could have everything else—but he can’t have that.
He kisses the skin at the back of your throat, his beard rasping against your skin.
“Let’s not make this difficult, doll. Either way you play this, I get what I’m owed.”
“No one’s owed anything,” you croak, wriggling in his lap. Bucky stills you with a smart tap to your thigh. “That’s not how the world works.”
“Oh?” He says, as if he’s amused by your reasoning, amused enough to let your sass slide. “I’ll remember that when folks come to collect. Funny,” he hums as his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your leggings, playing at the skin beneath them before he tugs them harshly down. “how no one’s owed, but someone always come to collect.” There’s a low laugh as he grazes the skin of your vulva.
“No panties, doll? And I thought you weren’t expecting me.” He parts your lips with two fingers, and you’re as embarrassed as he is pleased when he finds your folds damp. You huff through your clenched teeth as Bucky slowly circles your clit with one finger while he grinds his cock against you. You’re overwhelmed with him—the woodsy scent of his cologne in your nostrils, his hands on you, in you. It’s enough to make your head spin.
Which it does, unwitting pleasure winding up your spine as you stare dizzily at the ceiling. You try everything; shutting your eyes to try and keep him out, picturing Patrick, trying to remember the vows you were still drafting up for the wedding—but none of it works. Bucky’s face swims in the darkness behind your closed eyes as his fingers dance over your bud, and his breath in your ear wipes clean the memory of your future promises.
The noise as his fingers slide in and out of you, aided by your body’s own slick is deafening. You hate your own muted moans as Bucky’s teeth drag along your shoulder blade, uncaring of whether he leaves a mark or not. The sound of his zipper lowering makes you choke back a sob, and you gasp softly at the feel of his bare cock against your ass.
“I saw, you know,” he grunts as he ruts against you. “Fucking pathetic, couldn’t even let you get off first.” Bucky lets out a low, guttural laugh when your pussy clenches around him, fresh wetness coating his fingers. “Mmm, feels good, doesn’t it, doll?” You clench around him. “Real man would have taken care of you—that’s why I had to step in and do it.” Bucky doesn’t let up, and you whine and writhe against him.
Your orgasm hits you like a train and you arch against his knee, your cunt throbbing as your release coats his fingers thick and sticky. You can feel Bucky moving against you, your pleasure—your shame—leaking back to coat his cock. Limp and wrung out from the force of it, you shudder. Maybe it’s cruel irony that Pat had never made you feel quite like this, that this man who you you undeniably hate can play your body like a fine instrument.
His hands rise to cup your breasts, flicking at your nipples through your bralette. “If I didn’t want to be in your pussy so bad, I’d give this sweet ass of yours a try,” Bucky says as his the head of his cock slides lewdly against your puckered entrance. You push ineffectively at his metal hand as he lifts your hips, positioning his cock underneath your twitching cunt.
“Bucky, Bucky no—”
“Stopwhining, doll,” his words end in a sigh as his cock begins to press up into you, pushing against the tightness of your entrance until it pops inside. He groans, huffing out an appreciative breath. “You’re like velvet inside, you know that?” He’s so thick, it’s like there’s not enough room inside of you for all of him, but he pushes in anyway.
You squeak as he fills you, his jeans rubbing uncomfortably against your bare thighs. Bucky kneads your hip with one hand and rocks against you slow, but even his short thrusts steal the air from your lungs. Even the sting of his cock stretching you open winds with the pleasure eating away at every conscious thought that manages to break through the static in your brain.
“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart,” he underscores the complement with another muffled curse. “Could stay in you all goddamned day.” He doesn’t fuck you like Pat does, with quiet efficiency, mindful of how long he’s taking—Bucky fucks you like it’s all he wants to do. His strokes are slow, leisurely, and you sob at the slow drag of him against your walls.
Bucky bounces you on his lap, and your breath gurgles in your throat. “F-full…” You don’t even realize you’ve spoken until Bucky’s black-honey laugh meets your ear.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, doll?” He kneads your breasts with one greedy hand while the other tugs your legs apart, splaying you open lewdly across his thighs. Bucky sinks in with a loud squelch that makes you keen. Distantly, you’re aware of the slapping of flesh, the squeal of the springs in you and Pat’s ancient couch as Bucky lays into you with languid heavy thrusts.
“Nice, fat cock digging you out—tell me baby, that miserable excuse for a man ever make you feel this good?” When you don’t answer immediately, Bucky’s hips snap into yours hard, the head of his cock punching against your cervix. You wail, babbling.
“N-no, no Bucky!” You wish that the guilt that flares up in you at your forced honesty is enough to quell the tide of pleasure cresting over you. You hate him—but your body still responds. “Oh, oh God—”
Pleasure sears the synapses in your brain, fireworks exploding behind your unseeing eyes as you gape up at your ceiling. Bucky fucks you through it, abandoning his slow, deep pace for quick, sharp thrusts.
“Fuck, m’gonna fill you up, doll, want you leakin’ with me for days—”He growls low in his throat, strained breaths puffing against your ear as sticky warmth floods you, his cock jerking against your walls. The both of you sit there, panting as you try to piece everything back together.
Bucky strokes the side of your face, before pressing a kiss into your hair.
“See, doll?” He says with a dry laugh. “Not so bad.”
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Summary:Sebastian’s outfit is a litte bold, but his girlfriend seems to enjoy the sight a bit too much.
Warnings:car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, choking, name calling, dirty talk, Dom!Seb, spanking, face slapping, oral sex (male receiving), public fingering, Daddy kink (I am so fucking sorry)
Author’s Note: This is long overdue. This fic was inspired by the sin that was Sebastian in that green velvet suit at the 2nd Annual Unitas Gala Against Human Trafficking. This is pure filth. I didn’t think it was going to turn out this fucking filthy.There’s no plot at all, just smut. Blame Seb. Feedback is good for my soul <3
Special mention @twhstuckylover. She wanted me to tag her in this filth. Hope you enjoy <3
