Wake Up

As far as I'm concerned, there is no way I can disagree. There was a great deal of tension and chemistry between these two. Amazingly well portrayal of Jake.

Management of Anger || Jake Lockley x Reader

Summary: Steven and Marc send Jake to anger management therapy so he can work on his murderous behavior. However, the whole therapy goes horribly awry.

Rating: 🔞explicit

Warnings: smut, minors DNI!

Word count: 3333 😃

Pairing: Jake Lockley x fem!Reader

Authors: Cass & Rouge

A/N: orange italics - reader speaking Spanish, red italics - Jake speaking Spanish, blue italics - Marc speaking Spanish

Jake was fed up with it.

Marc and Steven kept bugging him about stupid anger management.

He didn't really need it, of course. His anger issues were nonexistent. Jake was fine, but those two were taking his actions too seriously, fucking pussies.

Yet here he was, sitting in a waiting room.

When another patient left the psychiatrist's office, a receptionist, who appeared to be a young girl, smiled at him. "Please come in, the doctor is awaiting, sir."

"Fucking finally. I was getting ready to leave," he growled, walking inside.

The receptionist frowned slightly but chose not to comment on the man's behavior.

The office was a large room with just a wooden desk, a massive leather chair, a chaise lounge, and an armchair.

You graduated two years ago and have recently opened your first office. You'd gained a lot of regular customers since then, but this man was someone new. "Please take a seat, sir," you said, nodding to the armchair.

Jake took a seat and looked around. The room wasn't anything special, but the thing that really got his attention was the pretty, cute doctor that was about to help him.

"I was expecting to see a kind of Hannibal Lecter-style doctor, but seeing you here makes it more worthwhile," he smirked.

You smiled at him and rose from your seat; after circling the desk, you approached the man and extended your hand to him. "My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I'm the psychiatrist who will assist you with your anger issues. Would you like to start by introducing yourself?"

He grabbed your palm gently. "I am Jake Lockley. At your service," Jake said softly before placing a kiss on top of your hand.

You gave him your sweetest smile; it was very charming of him to act like an old-school gentleman. "Jake, it's a pleasure to meet you. Tell me what brings you here," you returned to your previous location.

Jake was quiet for a moment. Telling you the truth could put him in more trouble. “I was forced to come here by two of my friends," he muttered, looking at you. "When I look at you, it wasn't such a crappy idea after all."

"I'll take it as a compliment," you said as you settled into your leather armchair, crossed your legs, and put on your glasses to look over his file. "That's a reasonable place, to begin with. It's critical to have others' support, and I'm sure your friends were just concerned about your behavior. Jake, how would you describe yourself and how do you feel right now?"

Jake laughed softly at the 'support' part. They weren't supporting him, they were forcing him to come here. "I would describe myself as incredibly handsome and now I feel horny as fuck if I can be honest."

He made you laugh; this was not what you expected to hear from your patient, but he was so cute in his boldness. "Uhm, Jake, thank you for your input, and I must say, you're a very handsome fella, but I was more interested in whether you're angry right now and how your life looks on a daily basis. What are you doing for a living?"

"I do... Stuff," he shrugged, "if not for those two idiots who support me, my life would be a fucking paradise. It pretty much depends on the order I get. Ever since I laid my eyes on you, I feel calm like a fucking río."

"Is it safe to say that your job causes you stress and negative emotions? What steps do you take to get rid of them?"

"I..." He shrugged. "Punch a few fuckers. It not only calms me down but also gets the job done. So double win."

You took some notes and returned your focus to him. "Good. Let's move on to something else. Do you have any interests, Jake?"

"Let's see, smoking, drinking, guns, knives, murder...." He looked up at you. "Documentaries."

You took more notes with your brow raised. "Thank you for your candor. Would you mind telling me where you got your interest in guns and knives? You can move around the office freely if you want; it helps most patients think."

Jake nodded and got up to walk around a bit, curious about what he would find there. "What if I do mind telling you that?"

"We can of course change the topic then. No pressure."

"¡Maravilloso! Let's change the subject to... You being so preciosa that I want to fuck you here and now," Jake said boldly, walking closer to your desk.

You cocked your brow slowly. "That's very kind of you, Jake, but we should concentrate on you, not me," you chuckled, trying not to blush at the man's words.

"It's difficult to focus on me when you are here, pretty one."

"Mr. Lockley," you got up from your desk, giving him a look. "I need to remind you that I'm a doctor and you're a patient."

“I think that's a very fitting scene, don't you think, Mrs. Y/L/N? Just you, a pretty, cute doctor, and me, a troubled thug. We could have fun, cariño," Jake muttered in a low tone, daring to wrap an arm around your waist.

A quiet gasp escaped your lips; the situation was spiraling out of control. What scared you the most was that you were tense at all times, which was not only unprofessional but also inappropriate.

"You are so stiff. You like this, huh?"

"Maybe..."

"Maybe yes or maybe a lot?" He whispered.

You cleared your throat to maintain composure. "Mr. Lockley, I think you're crossing the line," you said quietly, barely moving your lips. "I'd like to request that you return to your previous location."

"Oh, I will return to my previous location, with you on my lap," Jake responded.

You led him back to the armchair he had previously sat in. "Now, Mr. Lockley, let me remind you that this is a therapy session, not some type of get-together."

He grabbed your waist and pushed you onto his lap. "Well, it's an anger management thing. What if you help me with my anger?"

He took you by surprise - you fell onto his lap with a tiny whine. You tried not to move too much while he held you on his lap; the situation was spiraling out of control. You reached down to improve your black pencil skirt, which reached just above your thigh. "I'm glad to hear I can help you with your anger, but Jake, this isn't about to happen this way."

"¡Vaya! Me encanta cuando me llamas por mi nombre," Jake hummed happily, placing a hand on your leg to stroke it gently. "I'd like to hear you scream it and moan it."

This guy was having an effect on you; no matter how hard you tried to remain professional, his grip on your waist and his touch on your leg made it nearly impossible for you to think clearly. "Jake... Please, bring us back to the session. Anyone can enter at any time."

"Oh, you are too pretty to lie and you are terrible at it, cariño. My session is on, no one can walk in as they please. Not to mention your guarding bitch that will stop anyone who would get such an idea," he whispered and gently kissed your neck. "Hueles tan dulce ... sabrosa. I can feel that all the anger is fading out so quickly."

You moaned, instantly covering your mouth with your curled palm, blinking in disbelief at your own action, as you couldn't keep your cool any longer.

Chuckling lowly, he moved closer to your ear and whispered. "Apenas te toqué y cantas. musica para mis oidos.”

You slid off his lap and looked down at him, your cheeks flushed. You pulled your skirt up and straddled his lap, cupping his cheeks into your hands to kiss him because he knew how to keep you going.

He kissed you back and immediately picked you up, getting up from his seat. Still kissing you, he walked to your desk, pushed the stuff off of it, and then sat you down before pulling away. "This skirt is annoying me."

You hummed a bit at him. "It's a shame, for you have to deal with it in some way. I'm not taking it off."

Jake smiled and pulled out his pocket knife. "Let's make a sexy slit for that beautiful leg of yours." Before you could protest Jake cut the material of your skirt on the side. "Let's see what is hiding there."

When his gaze fell on the black, lacy underwear, you gasped and your cheeks flushed. "You know how much I paid for this skirt, Jake? Now, give me the knife."

"Not happening, little one," he shook his head, hiding the knife. "I bet you will rip me off enough to buy a brand-new skirt."

Your hand rested on his hips and slid down to his crotch, where you massaged the slight bulge you could already feel growing.

Jake purred at your touch. "You are a quick one. Don't ya want to stay professional anymore?"

His mocking of you grew tiresome. "Fuck off, Jake Lockley, and do what you've wanted since the moment you laid your eyes on me."

As Jake laughed loudly, he knelt between your legs. Humming, he shifted the panties aside and latched on your clit.

You rolled your head back and slipped your hand into his locks, muttering quietly fuck.

He licked the delicate bundle of nerves, biting it gently from time to time just to get a reaction out of you.

Observing his actions turned you into a moaning mess. "Keep going, Jake, don't stop," you said, putting your legs on his shoulders. Him biting on your clitoris was the most pleasurable torture. After a while, you realized how wet you had become. "Fuck me, fuck me, I need you to fuck my pussy."

Jake looked up at you. His fingers slipped into your hole. "Oh, really?” He asked, moving his finger slowly in and out. "Ask nicely."

"Fuck me," you whined quietly, taking your glasses off and putting them aside. "Fuck me. I know you want it too."

"I want you to keep these on," he said as he reattached the glasses. "Yeah, now I can fuck you. Looking so fucking sexy," Jack nodded, working on his belt.

You bit your lower lip as you watched him. "Do you mind if I assist you, Jake?"

"Go on. Be a smart girl and take care of it."

You instinctively reached for his belt and undid the metal buckle holding it in place, then opened his fly, looking him in the eyes with a mischievous grin.

Jake watched you as he played with your hair.

As you gently pushed him off the desk, you hopped up and kneeled in front of him, pulling his cock out and licking his shaft.

He pulled your hair into a ponytail and held it tightly in his hand as he commented, "I thought you wanted me to fuck you."

"I want that as well," you replied, smiling at him, then bent in and caressed his left testicle with your tongue before sucking the whole nugget inside your mouth. You moved your right hand up to the base of his cock. Your mouth let go of his cock as you released the gentle sucking pressure. Your mouth and tongue then traced a trail up his penis until you reached the head. You used your tongue to trace small circles in the triangular region just under the head of his cock until he was squirming. Then you placed the whole head in your mouth still stimulating the underside with your tongue. Then you took as much of his shaft into your mouth as you could. Your right hand firmly held the base shifting up and down with your mouth which provided a gentle sucking pressure.

Jake hummed loudly as he enjoyed your attention. While playing with your hair, he scanned the wall clock. "You are one naughty doctor, but you better hurry up. Time is running out and I don't want to pay extra."

With a loud pop sound, you pulled him out of your mouth and spat down on his cock's tip. "If you fuck me well, I'm not charging you for another visit." When he was close to coming and his ball sack had tightened up into the base of his penis, you pulled back up to the tip of his cock, toying with him again tracing tiny circles with the middle of your tongue. You weren't ready for him to come yet. You released him with your mouth and hands and slowly stood to kiss him, hopping on the desk again, spreading your legs a little. "Come on. What the fuck are you waiting for?"

"Look at you," Jake mused, moving between your legs. He grabbed both of them and wrapped them around his waist before pushing his cock into you. Without giving you even a moment to adjust he set a strong pace with deep thrusts. "Tan poco profesional. Traes vergüenza a toda tu profesión. Me encanta," Jake said with a smile.

"Y no te molestó ni un poco," you gasped, wrapping your arm around his neck, in an attempt to support yourself, yet his pace was too rough to bear, so you ended up laying down on the desk, your back arched.

"Buena niña, mi propia pequeña zorra," Lockley growled, undoing your shirt so he could get to your beautiful tits. Then he moved your bra up, and his hands grabbed one of your breasts, massaging it.

"I'll fucking cum!" You whined, trying to keep your voice low. As he started kneading your breast, you moaned for him, feeling your pussy clenching rhythmically around his dick buried deep inside you.

"Cum for me, little one," Jake said, gently pinching your nipples.

With a loud moan escaping your lips, you milked his cock, arching your back even more and wrapping your legs around him tightly, to drive him deeper.

He praised you and after a few more thrusts, he pulled out and then pulled you back onto your knees. "Such a pretty girl," Jake muttered, jerking himself off to soon cum all over your face.

With a loud gasp, you tried your best to catch all of his cum into your mouth. You wrapped your mouth around his shaft after he jerked himself off, just to suck him clean. Only then did you get up and wipe his semen off your cheek with the top of your hand. "That was something, Mr. Lockley. You're so fucking talented."

“Doc, you're not so bad yourself. I've never felt so calm in my fucked up life," Jake nodded and adjusted his pants. "I think I would like an appointment next week."

As you pulled your skirt down, adjusted your bra, and buttoned your shirt, you gave the man a nod. "If you'd like, Jake, you can set an appointment with my receptionist. She'll be more than happy to offer you a term. I literally can't wait to meet with you again, Mr. Lockley. Thank you for today. And homework for you - try to focus on breathing and thinking about something pleasant once you feel anger growing."

"Oh, I definitely will do that. Especially when I'll jerk off. I'll be breathing and thinking about something nice... Like my sexy doctor," he muttered, walking to the door.

Running the tip of your tongue along your lip, you nodded. Don't forget to leave me something for me, Mr. Lockley. Have a good afternoon. See you next week."

Once he stepped out of the office, the receptionist gave him a glance; the young lady heard some inappropriate things and she thought she should call the security but since her employer didn't ask her to, she let it be. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Yeah. I would like to set an appointment for next week," he informed leaning against the desk casually, running his hand through his hair.

The girl cocked her brow and typed something on the computer. "Is Friday at 4 pm suitable for you, sir?"

"Sure it is,” Jake nodded. "Hey? Where is the bathroom?”

"On the left, at the end of that corridor," she pointed in the direction. "Do you need anything else, sir?"

Jake shook his head and then headed to the bathroom. He locked the door and smiled at the sight of two mirrors. It would make stuff easier. "So, I need to say. This whole anger management thing wasn't such a stupid idea after all," he concluded and started to wash his hands.

"You came there for the anger management, not the sexual management, Jake," Marc scolded him, appearing in one of the mirrors, arms folded against his chest.

Her thick, British accent continued, "You depraved that poor woman..." It was Steven, he was tugging on the sleeves of the shirt as he appeared in the second mirror.

Jake shrugged in response to them both. "Well, she wanted to fuck so I didn't 'deprave that poor woman' but I fucked the naughty doctor and it actually helped me with my anger so it's basically a double win situation."

"Oh, God. Marc, did you hear that? Tell him something. This is not what you do with women just because they want to do inappropriate things," Steven turned with his back to Jake.

Marc shook his head in disbelief. "Jake, really? I heard you set another appointment. Just please, no fucking next time."

"If you want to do those naughty things, you better ask her out, it's more appropriate that way," Steven added. "What if she gets pregnant? Oh God, you couldn't wear rubber, could you?"

Jake rolled his eyes annoyed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I finished on her face, this is not how stuff works, kid, but next time I will take some condoms. Thanks for reminding me about that, Steven. I will fuck her again and I ain't asking her out. Honestly, I already can't wait for another visit."

"Oh my God, Marc, do something with him, I'm going bonkers, I swear," Steven added.

"Jake, Jake, listen, it's anger management, right? We sent ya here so you can work on your murderous behavior, right? Not so you can just fuck your therapist, for Khonshu's sake," Marc shook his head in disbelief.

"Imbéciles, I will keep my murderous behaviors, but I am grateful for your help. For once the two of you actually became useful by finding me a pretty girl to let out some steam," Jake chuckled loudly. "Shall we go back home or will I keep standing here like an idiot and talk to myself?"

"It's time to learn how to treat women, and I'm addressing this not only to Jake but to you as well, Marc," Steven replied loudly. "He just fucks every woman he meets and breaks their hearts and limbs sometimes, and you almost dumped your sweet wife and vanished without a word for months. You both suck at maintaining a healthy relationship with girls," Steven added before vanishing.

Marc grimaced and blinked in disbelief. "What the hell was that?"

Jake listened and watched Steven with his eyebrows raised. Then he looked at Marc and shrugged. "Our frustrated, vegan, British virgin snapped? Or something like that, I don't really know. He is crazier than me sometimes."

"Don't be so harsh on him, he's... So much different than any of us. Okay, Jake, get your ass back home, we'll talk there. The last thing we need is to make any more inconvenience to the receptionist."

"Maybe she will join next time..." Jake hummed quietly, rubbing his chin.

"Lockley," Marc replied with a cold grimace. "Rápido, rápido."

"No me digas cómo vivir mi vida. Tu no eres mi madre," Jake said loudly before walking out of the bathroom to finally get back home.

Just buns and a bun person chilling under pastel clouds // livestreams

look under the cut for Bucky’s naked booty ^^

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Everyone's Watching Him (But He's Looking At Her) (4)

Actor!Bucky Barnes × Assistant!Fem!Reader

< < PART 3 | Series Masterlist

Summary: Bucky begrudgingly undertakes his press tour and PR relationship with Sharon as you question if you can continue your job whilst watching him fall in love with someone else.

Warnings: shy & insecure reader, angst, idiots in love, miscommunication, soft fluff and an extremely happy ending 👀

Word count: 4.0k

A/N: photo credit by @bwsebastianstan, dividers by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

You can’t even look at him.

That’s what destroys Bucky the most.

The past week he’s been completely deprived of the soothing comfort he feels when your eyes meet his in a crowded room.

You’re seemingly so disgusted that he would stoop so low as to fake an entire relationship to promote some stupid movie that you can’t even look at him.

Between all the cameramen, producers, make up artists and rotating allotment of interviewers, whose eyes are all focussed on him, you’re the only person in the room who isn’t gazing in his direction, when your attention is the only one he cares about.

Each time he looks up, eyes instinctively searching for you, it feels like a dagger twisting in his heart to find you’re still acting as if he’s not there. Bucky’s found himself perpetually stuck in your blind spot, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt as alone and desperate for someone to notice him whilst simultaneously being the centre of attention, in all his life.

No one’s interested in the movie, the intricate plot, the dynamic between the characters or even the difficult stunts he performed himself, all anyones asking questions about is Bucky and Sharon’s supposed relationship and the manner in which they got together after months of filming.

He can’t blame Sharon for playing the part perfectly, like the extraordinary actress she is, this is her chance to create a name for herself in this ruthless business and she’s pulling out all stops to make it count.

But Bucky hates it.

This is not why he became an actor and it would mortify his younger self to think this is all his career boils down to.

“And cut!” Someone yells and all of a sudden the room bursts to life again. He’s barely focussed on the questions being thrown at him, opting to let Sharon take most of them because it feels less dishonest that way. The fewer words he says, the less lies come out of his mouth and it makes him feel ever so slightly less guilty lying to the entire world.

Sharon squeezes his hand to grab his attention and gives him a look which screams ‘try harder’, but because they’re surrounded by a hoard of people she can’t actually say it aloud.

Maria’s on the phone beside one of the cameramen, and even through all the bustling noise, he can hear the distinct sound of her making arrangements for ‘the happy couple’. Dread settles in his stomach which sinks beneath the floor like an anvil.

To top it all off, he looks beyond where Maria is standing to find you busy discussing something which much be exceedingly important with some other crew members. Normally you’d be watching on with a reassuring smile, and when his gaze would meet yours, everyone else would melt away and it would seem like you were the only two people in the whole world. But he can’t exactly blame you for doing your job.

Bucky suddenly feels extremely claustrophobic, caged in by the bright lights, cameras and people working in the limited space provided by the set. It’s like his body is viscerally holding in his last breath until you turn around and look at him, and he’s suffocating waiting for something he intrinsically knows won’t happen.

He stands up, waving off the make-up artists who are rushing over from their station to ensure Sharon and himself look perfect for the next interview.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” He mumbles, not waiting for permission he knows he wouldn’t receive before trudging away to his dressing room.

Bucky relishes the moment alone, away from the mayhem, having the space to take a breath and calm the swarming anxiety in his chest. It’s not as effective as the comfort you provide whenever you are in his presence, but he knows it’ll have to do for now.

At that moment Becks’ name flashes on his phone and guilt pangs in his stomach that he’s forgotten about until now. He’s been ignoring her calls all week - his excuse is that he’s been insanely busy since the premiere, but he knows the real reason is because she’ll be disappointed he hasn’t told you what she could so plainly read on his features when the three of you were in the same room.

He hits ignore once again with the internal promise that once he summons enough courage to disclose his feelings for you, he’ll return her call. Ringing with either fantastic news, or in need of consoling a broken heart.

“Bucky?” He hears your voice call his name and he immediately turns around to the source, heart skipping a beat seeing your eyes land on him for what feels like the first time since under the dim light outside the premiere venue a week ago. He takes a couple seconds to commit your features to memory, knowing burning the image in the back of his mind will help him gather the strength he needs to return to the monotonous stream of interviews.

“Yes?” Bucky enquires to break the silence, something that even now, when he’s positive you’re avoiding him because you’re opposed to his promotional methods, has never been awkward between the two of you.

“They need you back out there.” Before he can even so much as thank you for the instruction, you’ve closed the door and he’s all alone again.

He can barely function only seeing glimpses of you. There’s a certain quality about you that no matter how tired he is of answering questions and interacting with people, he’s never too fatigued to be around you. Time spent with you allows him to recharge, and without that it feels like he’s running on empty.

Bucky takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and picturing how he felt the night after the infamous Alexander Pierce interview when you stayed up with him until the early hours of the morning, laughing at old movies and throwing popcorn in each others mouths, before he carried you to bed and seriously considered climbing in next to you.

Those are the memories with you he cherishes, even more so now that you’re giving him the cold shoulder, and is what will keep him going for the rest of the day. Probably even the rest of his life.

And with that happy thought, he’s ready to take on the next interview.

* * *

You feel your heart sink below your stomach for what feels like the thousandth time this week.

Each interviewer is asking the same damn question, ‘how did the two of you get together?’, which of course prompts Sharon to deliver the same damn response each time. You could recite her answer word for word at this point, but it doesn’t make hearing it yet again any less painful.

It’s a recurring nightmare you’re unable to wake from.

You do your best to keep busy, which isn’t all that difficult when there’s a million different interviewers rotating through who you need to provide copies of Bucky’s ‘no go’ list in an attempt to prevent a repeat of what happened on Alexander Pierce’s late night show.

But Bucky and Sharon are the eye of the storm, everything revolves around them, so it’s impossible to avoid their relationship altogether, nor the hollow, sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach when you catch a glance of them lovingly smiling at each other.

With each rotation of interviewers your resilience dwindles further. It’s only been a week, but you’re just about ready to break. The doting glances, the constant stroking of his arm, the intertwined fingers, adoring hand kisses, are each an additional stab to the heart which brings you closer to your demise.

You really would think of them to be such a cute and affectionate couple if one half of the pair wasn’t the beginning and end of your whole world.

You want to go home and cry your eyes out until the headache you get from being dehydrated is worse than the ache in your chest from your breaking heart.

As someone yells ‘cut’, the room coming to life with a frenzy, you do your best to fight the urge to look at the main stage where Bucky is currently sitting. All your instincts tell you to sneak a glance, but you know deep down seeing them together will bring about a heartache you’re sure you’ll never recover from.

So as arduous as it is to avoid staring at the same eyes that bring you a never ending supply of comfort and reassurance, and that seem to soften each and every time they notice you, without fail, you choose not to. Because at this point, the fear of more agony outweighs the morsel of solace you might find.

Why are you subjecting yourself to this?

To him, you’re just an assistant. Someone to do the organisational tasks that he either doesn’t have time for or purely doesn’t want to. A job multiple people who aren’t life shatteringly in love with him are qualified for.

You’re positive there will not be a day that goes by in which you will not be in love with James Buchanan Barnes, but quitting as his assistant would allow you a small fragment of peace that constantly being around him and Sharon will never allow.

That even if he isn’t yours, you wouldn’t have to watch him be someone else’s.

Perhaps that’s the most tranquillity this cruel world can grant you now.

Are you really about to do this?

In your moment of reservation you make the mistake of looking over to Bucky, in hope that seeing the handsome face which never fails to give life to butterflies in your stomach, will remind you why you do this job, but what you see instead does the exact opposite.

Sharon leans over the minimal space between the two chairs and kisses him, lingering for a few agonising seconds before pulling away, all toothy smiles as they intertwine hands.

Your heart crumbles into irreparably small pieces and you have to force yourself to heave a shaky breath.

It is unfortunately not the first time you’ve seen the two share a kiss, but you determine to yourself it will be the last.

You’ve made your mind up. You can’t endure this any more. You’re done.

After the last interview tonight, you’ll hand in your resignation.

* * *

As you knock on the door and twist the handle in response to Bucky’s mumbled ‘come in’, you feel yourself approaching the bottom of the seemingly eternal abyss you’ve been falling into since learning that Bucky is dating Sharon.

When you feel the sensation while sleeping, you get the relief of waking up, but the past week has been a nonstop, agonising plunge.

Though you’re nervous about how he’ll react, and petrified that in a moment of weakness you’ll disclose romantic feelings you want to keep secret in order to justify your departure, you’re certain this is the right decision, and that provides you the drop of courage you need.

“Hi.” Even in just the single syllable you can tell he’s completely worn out, but there’s a hope and longing in his eyes at the recognition it’s you who’s entered his dressing room that even his exhaustion can’t quell.

He hasn’t even put up a defence to what you’re about to do, but even just by looking at him, at those damn steel blue eyes which shine bright enough to illuminate even your darkest days, you question if you can go through with it.

Bucky looks at you expectantly, knowing you must have come in for something. There’s a small part of you, despite what you’re about to do, that makes your stomach clench at the thought that even though you’ve been avoiding him the last week, he still smiles when he sees you.

“I’m handing in my two weeks.” You manage to say, but your voice is weak and lacking any kind of conviction. It sounds more like a question than a statement.

“What?” His smile turns into an expression of shock in the time it takes you to blink. He stands, knocking his chair backwards, but his eyes are wide and only focussed on you. “I don’t accept your resignation.”

“Well then it’s a good thing it’s technically Maria’s management company that employs me. I just came here as a professional courtesy.” You turn to leave, unable to look at the undeniable hurt in his eyes and on his features you’ve caused. That will be your legacy to him, your last action in his life will be wrought with the agony of abandoning him.

“Is that all I am to you? A formality?” His words make you pause. As much as you need to move on from your own heartache of watching him in a relationship with someone else, you can’t leave knowing he believes he means so little to you.

You turn back to look at him and it feels like you’ve been shot in the chest, seeing desperation and hopelessness brimming in his eyes. You’re the cause of that.

“Not even close, Bucky. You mean so much more to me, that’s the whole point.” You put all your effort into making your voice level and believable. You might be leaving him but the reasoning behind it is because you care too much about him, not too little. With time, you hope he can understand that.

“The whole point of what?”

“Why I’m quitting - do you really think I’d be leaving if you meant nothing to me?” There’s a flash of something in Bucky’s eyes that you can’t quite place, perhaps something of a revelation, but so much more profound.

“Then why are you leaving?” You can feel tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You are dangerously close to revealing deeper feelings you promised you’d keep to yourself, that you wouldn’t divulge to Bucky and put him in the awkward position of having to turn you down because he’s already in love with another woman.

The searing pain of vocalising your devotion, the inevitability of being rejected by him overcomes you and you find your heart won’t let the words of affection leave your lips.

You take a deep, steadying breath and find yourself staring at the floor merely because you don’t have the strength to look into his bewitching eyes.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Is what you say halfheartedly, though you do believe it. Surely it’s too late now to be of any consequence. He’s fallen for another woman, you’re just the expendable assistant, nothing can change that now.

“Yes it does! You matter to me, so why you’re choosing to leave my life matters to me.” Your heart aches. You might matter to him, but not in the way your heart needs. Not in the all consuming, life changing, inescapable way that plagues every second of his life as he does yours.

You can feel your heart beating in your throat as you respond to him.

“All I want is for you to be happy, Buck, and you’re happy with her. I’m not going to jeapordise that, but it doesn’t mean I need to torture myself by having a front row seat to your love story.”

“Doll, you are my happiness!” You try to ignore the way your stomach flips and heart clenches as a result of his words. He’s just trying to make you stay… he doesn’t truly mean that. But then he continues and your world comes to a complete standstill. “If you’re referring to Sharon and I, that’s all fake! I’m not dating her, I’ve never been interested in her like that, it’s all for PR.”

Your hands start shaking and knees feel weak as your mind works to process his words. This can’t be happening. It was all fake? But then your mind flashes back to the fondness in Bucky’s eyes as he looked at Sharon at the premiere, as well as the way your heart ruptured when Maria confirmed their relationship and you can’t give your heart permission to believe him.

“No… no, that’s not what Maria said.” You stammer, replaying her words in your mind as you had done continuously since that infamous night to ensure you hadn’t misinterpreted them.

“What did Maria say?” Bucky’s voice has an edge of irritation which is hard to miss.

“She said Sharon was your girlfriend, real girlfriend… that you’d started dating while filming together.” Maria had been sure, unwavering, almost clinically so. She left no room for doubt.

“I’m gonna kill her.” Bucky mutters, almost to himself. “Doll, none of it was real, purely written into the contracts for promoting the movie. I think Maria saw how I feel about you and for her own twisted reasons wanted to push us apart.” You have to remind yourself to breathe because every single cell in your body is so overwhelmingly focussed on Bucky’s words that even your vital functions have stopped.

“How you feel about me?” You repeat his words breathlessly, unable to process their true connotation for if you’re wrong, it would surely end your entire existence.

Bucky’s eyes stare into your soul in a way that they never have before. He looks resolute, but somehow simultaneously vulnerable. Though you’ve seen him at his lowest, the fragility he’s openly displaying makes you suspect that there was always one last wall he kept part of himself concealed behind, shielding himself from one last heartbreak he just couldn’t bare to endure.

You observe in his eyes he’s pulled that wall down, and it’s like you’re seeing him, all of him, for the first time. And you’ve never been more in love.

“I was gonna tell you last week, after the premiere, but then you left and…” He shakes his head as he gathers his thoughts. When he looks up his eyes are filled with intent and don’t leave your gaze as he steps closer. You allow him to grasp your hands in his, his thumbs swiping over the backs of your hands affectionately and it takes every ounce of strength in you not to melt into his warm, musky scented embrace. When Bucky speaks there’s a crack in his voice. “The thought of you leaving takes away all my air, I can’t fucking breathe thinking that in two weeks you’re going to walk out of my life and never look back. I need you. You are absolutely everything to me. You are in every moment of my life, regardless of if you’re actually present for it. It’s you I will always search for in a crowded room. Whose eyes I find solace in and whose smile gives my life purpose. I live to be the reason for that beautiful smile. You are who I want to tell every good piece of news to first. Whose hand I instinctively reach for when I need the reminder I’m not alone in this isolating spotlight. Every moment of my life revolves around you. You are the nucleus of my world that I cannot live without.”

“Bucky…” You feel like you’re about to collapse. Your mind is racing too fast for any coherent thoughts to form, but warmth and adoration fills your entire body like a sugar high.

“Doll, please, you are it for me. There is no one else, even if you do choose to leave. You are my definition of love. You will be the person who I compare everyone else to, and I can already tell you with absolute certainty that none of them will even come close. There will never be anyone else for me, because it always has been and always will be you.”

You feel like you’re floating on a cloud, euphoria flowing in your veins and a warmth blooming in your chest so fiercely it almost feels like an ache. Tears sting behind your eyes, but you compel yourself to not let them blur your vision. You want to remember the pure love and devotion in Bucky’s eyes, how he’s looking at you like you truly are the only one in the world for him. As if, when he looks at you, everything else becomes hazy and you’re the only thing he sees.

All those moments, all the shared tender glances and lingering touches, all the generously sweet words you hope implied more than a simple boss-assistant relationship, it wasn’t just your imagination wishing he reciprocated your feelings.

Bucky had felt it too.

It was all real. So earnestly real.

“Bucky…” You reach up and cup his cheek, wiping away a stray tear which gently trickles from the corner of his eye with your thumb. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes and savouring the care in your contact. His prosthetic hand, which is still holding yours, gives you an encouraging squeeze, and when he opens his eyes again, his gaze is overflowing with adoration. “You are my home. The only reason I was going to leave was because I didn’t want to watch you fall in love with someone else. Loving you comes as easy as breathing for me. There is no one else in the entire world that I will ever love in that way, only you.”

You don’t even have time to breathe, for when those words leave your lips Bucky decides he simply cannot wait a second longer before kissing you. Though, you’re not complaining, it’s an urge you’ve been supressing constantly since you started working for him.

This kiss starts fast and frantic, you’ve both waited entirely far too long to express your love that you’re eager to feel as much of each other as possible. Bucky’s hands roam around your back, pulling you flush with him as yours start by cupping his face, before tangling in the long strands of his hair.

But when the realisation hits you both that you don’t need rush, that in fact you’ve got the rest of your lives to explore and memorise the intricacies of each other, the kiss slows to a sensual make out, taking your time to enjoy each other and what you’ve been longing for since the moment you met.

“Bucky?” You mumble his name against his lips, but he doesn’t allow you to say more then a single word and take a quick breath before his lips have covered yours again. You’re not sure how long you’ve been kissing him, but he’s clearly not done with you yet.

“Mhmm.” He hums into your mouth, hands slipping below the hem of your shirt, gliding over the smooth, bare skin of your back, sending shivers down your spine. He touches you gently, like you’re a precious flower he doesn’t want to crush, but rather preserve and admire for years to come.

“Take me home.” He pulls back, and your lips already miss being connected to his. You’ll never get enough of him, even if you were to kiss him for the remainder of your days.

He looks at you with a fondness and amazement that makes you think he can’t quite believe you’re his, even though your heart has belonged to him for as long as you’ve known him.

You tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear so you can have an unobstructed view of how he’s looking at you, soaking up the confidence which inflates in your chest when he gazes at you as if you hang the moon and stars in the night sky.

“As you wish, my love.” Bucky affirms, the twinkle in his eye makes excitement surge in your stomach - the night is far from over. He kisses you once more, savouring the feeling and to tide you both over until you make it back to his place.

Bucky takes your hand and refuses to let go as he proudly walks with you by his side through the studio, not giving a damn who sees the two of you together.

If you’d like to see more of these two, make sure to let me know ♥️

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Everyone’s Watching Him (But He’s Looking At Her) [Actor!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @sunnyjane4 @valhalla-kristin @learisa @crispysublimecupcake @iamfandomwasted @blackwidownat2814 @hailey-holt @rosepetalsinwinter @wifeofbarnes @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @vicmc624 @oliviagreen99 @gabshouse @raging-panda @priya212 @highlyintelligentblonde @buckyseddie @erynnnn @endless-summer-soldier @one-shot-plus-size @takeabreathdearh @its703pm @nefelibatansoul @theweekndhistorybook @albinotigerpython @goldenharrysworld @buckyslove1917 @supersanelyromantic @gothkitteh @ahrahrahraha @hopelessromantic423 @misshale21 @happeevacationday @farfromjustordinary @blackgirlbydna @mrsgweasley @readreblogfics @ashenc-blog @redbarn1995 @thewackywriter @missvelvetsstuff @broadwaybabe18 @buckys2lut @arny-montana @calirindo @justfic @crazyunsexycool @helpishouldstudy @alluringsirensworld @sarahyk27 @aya-daydreams @hotleaf-juice @kareish @yukio369 @hjzmwoodz @sabbbsstuff @vespercarmichael @fanfic-freak-cevans @marygoddessofmischief @cevansswhore

𝓓𝓪𝔂 10 - A Steamy Farewell || Leto Atreides x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: After years of service under Duke Leto's command, you are about to leave Arrakis. There's nothing more surprising than being farewelled by the leader himself, especially if it's in a steamy way

Warnings: smut (unprotected p in v)

Word count: 1315

Author: Rouge

A/N: the prompt for today is: Drunk Sex

In order to say goodbye to Arrakis, I decided to throw a party; it was a hot summer evening party with a few coworkers and a lot of wine that everyone enjoyed. My party had thinned out by this point, so I walked the last people down the hill, to their barracks, to say goodbye. I was chatting with a couple of coworkers while Duke Leto Atreides walked his concubine, Lady Jessica, back to their chambers. Then he joined our little group on the training field. 

In between hugs and farewells, we chatted briefly, and I thanked them all for coming.

Despite the fact that it seemed silly for him to walk up and back down again, and I had taken the walk up the hill hundreds of times during my duties, I considered it polite and gentlemanly for him to linger near me and suggest that he walk me back up to the headquarters. We headed back up the little hill. Taking a different route up, Leto stood on a flat area above me and reached down to pull me up. As he pulled me up, my body skimmed along the length of his; he was incredibly strong and I could feel it in his touch. Once I was on my feet next to him, he stabilized me by wrapping his hands around my ribcage. All these things kind of affected me. For a moment, we were silent, then we continued up the hill towards the headquarters. We arrived at my door after a long walk, and it was awkward for a moment. In our drunken and giddy state, we decided to go inside for another drink.

While serving on Arrakis, I managed to collect all kinds of crazy old things about the place that I totally adored and showed him.

Throughout the whole time he was following me around my room; he was very close to me and touched me from time to time.

Knowing he had his beloved concubine, I was pretending not to notice, even though I was subtly encouraging it by leaning in slightly and telling myself that I was drunk and it was to fall or lean on him.

Once I showed Duke Leto the secret door in the back of a closet, I turned around and noticed that we were pressing against each other. As he pulled me closer, he wrapped his arms around me. I placed my hands on his broad chest that was covered by one of his finest, black shirts. It was as if we were subtly fitting our bodies closer together. The look on Leto's face was serious.

I told him, "You should make sure your concubine has made it back safely and that Paul is feeling well. " Leto kissed my neck and breathed deeply, avoiding to reply, "I know, this isn't right, but I crave you." 

As his erection pressed down on me, I couldn't resist moving against it and rubbing my nipples against his chest through our shirts. He was so tall, muscular, and sexy, I couldn't resist myself.

After sliding his hand up my thigh, Leto grabbed a handful of my ass and pulled me even closer to him. “You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered to me.

As we kissed and breathed heavily, I alternated between pushing him away, telling him we couldn't, and pulling him back.

My back was pushed against the wall as he picked me up; I wrapped my legs around him, letting out a brief moan directly into his ear. It was almost like he had an erection inside me despite my panties and his fitted pants still being on; my skirt rode up my thighs as his calloused hand caressed the back of my thigh.

As we grabbed each other and touched everywhere, Leto pulled back my head by my hair so he could kiss the side of my neck and face. It was intense and passionate.

Due to the fact that he was carrying me around the room, we were often falling against things or almost falling over, and we were kissing each other very violently; we would laugh about knocking things over intermittently.

In the end, we ended up near my front door, and I pushed him out, shouting, "I really  want you, but you have to go back to your family!" I slammed the door shut and rested my back against it, trembling as I breathed barely.

After a brief moment of silence, I heard a knock. Naturally, I answered it.

Standing there, Leto cocked an eyebrow at me as he said, "You won't be able to get rid of me this easily." The Duke pushed me back into my room.

We fell to the floor; I hit my back hard against it, laughing nervously. His clothes were taken off by him quickly; my panties and shirt followed as we laid on the cold, stone floor. He pushed my bra aside and started kissing, sucking, and biting my nipples and ran his hand up my thigh, right to the place where I was so hot and wet for him already. Suddenly, his urgency slowed.

While Leto was kissing me so hard; I was writhing with so much desire that I was almost in pain when he started slowly and gently teasing and torturing my pussy with his calloused fingers. Then he hovered over me for just a moment. I felt  the hard tip of Leto’s cock poking on my slick clit.

Leto slowly sank into me all the way, deliciously spreading and filling me; he stopped when he was all the way in. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, Y/N. You’ll fucking make me cum in a second.”

I was panting and desperate for release but he didn't move. I took the initiative and fucked him from below by rising and lowering my hips and getting harder and faster as he hovered over me. "Oh, stop it and fuck me like you've wanted," I encouraged him, wrapping arms around his neck and slipping my hand into his salt-pepper hair.

I felt him grab me by the hips and buck his hips fast into mine, fucking me hard and deep, grunting deeply; almost animalistic noises were emanating from his broad chest.

The scent of Caladan wine could be detected in each breath of Leto as he fucked me slower, like he was making sweet love to me, with tender, gentle kisses placed all over my face. When Leto rolled me on top of him, he didn't change his slow, passionate rhythm inside of me, pulling on my hair, kissing and caressing scars on my body, asking if I was okay, whispering sweet nothings, all the while slowly bringing me to another orgasm.

My eyes were closed as I let myself be enraptured by the luxuriant feel of every inch of his thick cock inside of me. I was moving up and down his dick, forward and back, deeper and faster. My hands rested against his chest for some kind of support until he grabbed my hips, bucking his hips into me to match my movements. Soon, Leto cum deep into me and I contracted and convulsed around him, collapsing onto the top of his chest; my hair messy and my breaths shallow.

After a while, still lying on the floor of my room, we began laughing. 

My drunken state made me think I had just dreamt it, so I couldn't believe it actually happened. I knew things were going to get hairy with his concubine in the morning, but I was flattered that Leto wanted to stay with me for the night, our bodies entwined, gentle, tender kisses and caresses placed to each other, despite the trouble he was sure to get for not returning to his chamber for the night.

In all honesty, I was looking forward to more sex in the morning.

THOR: RAGNAROK (2017) dir. Taika Waititi

Imagine dry humping with Bucky and he’s begging you to stop because he’s going to cum in his pants if you keep going, the both of you on the living room couch. Imagine you’re too lost in grinding yourself on him, rubbing your soaked panties all over him, letting your clit bump right on where the tip of this cock rests. Imagine he cries out, throwing his head back, cum soaking his jeans, his sensitive cock throbbing, practically squirting.

He’s moaning and nearly sobbing, trying to hold your hips still but you just grind down on him harder overstimulating him. His skin is flushed, sweat beading at his forehead, chest heaving as you press down onto his softening cock, forcing every bit of cum out of his cock as you reach your high.

Imagine he has to bury his face into your boobs, muffling his desperate whimpers, begging you to stop because his cock is too sensitive, arms wrapped around and clinging onto you, a prominent wet patch on his jeans from his load. 

Imagine he has tears streaking his cheeks but you can feel his hips rocking onto you from underneath, trying to rub himself onto you more because he’s a desperate little fuck - 

I found a coffee mug on Pinterest and I had to draw Sekido with it

If you guys can't already tell, he's my favorite of the four lmao

Avengers endgame - stony ending

“DO YOU TRUST ME?”

“I DO.”