#Cop!Steve x Mobster!Reader

[marvellous1917]

Icarus Falling Far.

(Part 3)

Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader

Summary: it’s the day after giving the dangerous mobster his first tattoo, and he hasn’t contacted you yet. What a dick.

Warnings: cursing, crime, mentions of guns, stalking/harassment (brief), think that’s it.

Word count: 3.6k ish

A/N: i had no plan to make this story into a mini-series, so if this seems a little unplanned… it is. Anyway, hope you like it my loves 😘

(This is not beta’s so any mistakes are my own)

Part 2 ⬇️:

———————

Bold is readers thoughts

Italics is Bucky's thoughts

This starts in Bucky’s POV.

———————

His home office was always the place he went to feel at peace. Ironic really, considering the dealings done within the room. The walls had seen him order his men to assassinate his rivals, to eliminate anybody that got in their way. The desk had felt the tip of the pen write extortionate contracts, sent silently to some of the cities most powerful people, the non-explicit threat sent with photos of their family’s, to reminds them what they were risking if they refused to comply. The window that felt the full strength of his prosthetic too many times to count. The hole in the floor after one of his employees managed to literally shoot himself in the foot. {guess who}

But his peace was teetering on a cliffs edge. His hands were woven into his hair, pulling to try and alleviate the headache forming. Elbows resting on his desk as his eyes stayed staring at one specific groove in the wood.

A knock at the door broke his trance and he sighed. It was a rule in the Compound that if the boss was in his office and the door was closed, you do not interrupt or enter unless there was an emergency. Only one man was brave enough to completely disregard Bucky’s rule, which had led to some… interesting situations when Bucky had girls in there with him.

“Come in,” he called, knowing the longer he waited to respond, the louder and more incessant the knocking would become.

The door opened and there was Bucky’s very own personal dumbass: Steve Rogers. The man had been a part of Bucky’s life since as long as he could remember, if-fact some of his earliest memories were with Steve; young boys playing cops and robbers together, attempting to protect Steve when he picked a fight he had no business being in- which had led to Bucky getting his ass beat as well, and scheming together about how to make sure that Simon Justin never played baseball again after pulling his sisters hair on the playground.

“Fuck me Buck, I’m not sure if today could have been anymore fucked,” Steve stated as he collapsed on to the couch, flinging his legs over one arm and resting his head in the other.

Today was a stressful fucking day.

It was the day that Bucky was making all necessary moves. Why all the problems had to pop up now, he wasn’t sure. And the kicker to this awful day? He had no time to talk to you, the girl he could not get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. You’d managed to flood his mind, memories of the kiss you shared playing over and over again.

“Did you close the door?” Bucky asked, not moving an inch.

“Yeah.”

“Good because I do not need anyone else talking to me right now,” Bucky said, his voice low and quiet, an air of danger ever-present in his tone.

“C’mon Buck, y’know you love them,” Steve responds with a dopey little smirk on his face, and he tilts his head to make eye contact with the man he calls his brother.

I hate that fuckin smile.

He softly hums his agreement and returns to inspecting the groove on his desk.

“We just gotta talk it out, figure out what the fuck is going on, then plan our next moves accordingly,” Steve says, swinging his legs back to the floor, hands clasped together, his arms leaning on his knees.

“Yeah thanks man, I didn’t think about figuring everything out, maybe I’ll give that a go now” Bucky retorts with weak sarcasm, mind too busy, replaying the events of the day.

“I can leave you alone to get lost in your head, or we can figure this shit out together. It’s your call jerk.” Steve says, tilting his head down to catch Bucky’s eye.

“Alright.”

“Stop pulling your hair jackass.” He adds.

I hate it when you do that.

Bucky drops his hands to the desk and says, “Ok let’s start this debrief with Walker.”

“Nat’s got his ass tied up in the basement for ya, he’s ready when you are.”

“Anybody looking for him?”

“One frustratingly loyal friend, but he has no idea that Johnny-boy is with us. The rest of his little fan club have no idea he’s even missing.”

“Ok, one problem down. Rumlow?” It’s the question he doesn’t want the answer to. He’d much rather spend his time thinking about you. His history with Brock Rumlow was bloody and painful, for both of them. There was only one person from his past that Bucky hadn’t dealt with, and here he was, coming back to ruin the name Bucky had made for himself.

Rumlow knew things about Bucky’s past that made him a a high security threat, but after he failed to blow himself up in an attempt to kill Bucky, he had disappeared. Bucky thought it was finally over, but the asshole popped back up about a year ago, with more power than before, making himself seemingly untouchable by Bucky’s hand.

“Currently moving like he has been, not causing too much trouble for us, though his crew are getting closer and closer to our dealings at the port.” Steve said, a slight look of digits on his face.

“Put extra hands down there for the next couple weeks, see if we can’t scare them off a little.”

“Yes boss. I’ll let them know after this.”

“The commissioner’s dealt with?” Buck asks, remembering the deviation the man had decided to make.

“Yep, send him that gift basket. He called Sam this morning and agreed to our terms.”

“Good. How’s Barton?” He asks, moving into what they class as ‘personal business’.

“Pissed, man. He wants blood for what happened, we all do.” Steve answers, the memory of seeing Clint covered in blood and bruised made his blood simmer.

“We sure it wasn’t Rumlows’ lot, or fuck even Walker?

“Walkers’ fanclub do not have the brain cells, the power, or the information to organise an attack like that, and Parker tracked Rumlow and his men, all are accounted for and have alibis. This is someone new.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Isn’t two power hungry assholes enough.

“We haven’t found anything? No security cameras, no cell tower pings?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair, resting his head on the back.

“Actually, I sent Scott there this morning to check out if there was anything left there and he found something.” Steve responds, some apprehension creeping into his voice.

That got Bucky’s attention. His head snapped back up and locked eyes with Steve who now stood in-front of his desk, pacing back and forth slightly.

“Care to share with the class Rogers?” His voice was hard now, his extreme dislike of not knowing all the information shining through.

Steve exhales sharply, biting his tongue to not retort and piss Bucky off more.

“He found a package tucked behind a dumpster addressed to ‘Bucky Barnes’ that had a memory stick-“

“Like a USB?” Bucky interrupted.

“- Yeah a USB-“ he gets cut off again.

“Then just say USB, calling it a ‘memory stick’ makes you sound 100 years old.”

“-oh dear god, you gonna let me finish?” Steve responds.

Bucky waved his hand at him, a sign for him to continue.

“Scott found a package addressed to you with a USB inside, we gave it to Stark ‘cos Parker was busy tracking down Rumlows crew, and he checked it out and told us it was completely normal, no virus or anything bad in it.”

“Was there anything on it?” Bucky asks, his brow furrowed.

“It..uh..has two pictures on it.” Steve said lowly.

“…of?”

“It’s probably better if I just show you.” Steve said, his tone of voice made Bucky a little nervous.

Steve took out his phone, tapped a couple of time before turning it around to give to Bucky. As soon as the latter had ahold of the phone, Steve took a full step back, which caused Bucky to raise his eyebrows in question.

“Just look.” He says in response to Bucky’s unasked question.

He looked down at the screen and almost immediately removed his left hand as to not break the phone.

Fuck. Shit.

The first picture was of the night he met you. It was taken through the window for you apartment, and clearly showed both you and Bucky, stood side by side, looking through your flash book.

“What the fuck is this?” He pushes out through gritted teeth.

“I assuming that’s the tattoo artist you told me about, the one you got a thing for?” Steve says.

The one I’m obsessed with.

When Bucky gives him a sharp nod, Steve just drops his head, suddenly fascinated with his shoes.

“Shit.” He says under his breath.

“What?” Bucky’s voice was louder now.

“Look at the next picture.” Steve says while avoiding eye contact.

Bucky looks down, his finger swiping to the next picture before he can think about it.

No. No no fuck. Not her.

The next photo was taken from inside the apartment. Inside your bedroom. It’s of you. Asleep. Completely unaware of the danger stood at the foot of your bed.

Bucky couldn’t look away, he was frozen staring at the picture. Your shorts and oversized tee had both ridden up slightly, showing how truly vulnerable you are. The clock on your table showed the time as 3:54 and showed the date.

“…this was taken this morning.”

“..yeah.”

fuck.

———————

Fuck Bucky Barnes.

The bastard hadn’t contacted you since the shop.

Bitch ass told me to keep my phone on so I wouldn’t miss his message, kept me glued to my phone like a weirdo waiting for him to call… and he didn’t. Dick.

Despite the annoyance at the very very attractive mobster, you couldn’t help wonder how he was, what he was doing, if he was thinking about you too.

You’re overthinking about Bucky was interrupted by a knock at your door.

“One sec!” You shout to whoever’s there, getting up and walking to the door. The second you undo the lock, the door is being pushed into your face with a chorus of greetings.

“Come in I guess,” you say to the three who just walked in.

“Well thanks darlin, you got food?” Billy responds, already making his way to the fridge.

“Don’t fucking eat my pizza Bill, I swear I’ll kill you,” you answer, giving both Frank and Curtis a hug, letting the door close behind them.

He laughs off your threat as the others take a seat on your couch.

“Not that I don’t love you guys, but why the fuck are you here?” You ask, moving back to the arm chair in the corner and taking a seat, your phone pinging in the back ground.

“What, we can’t pop in on you whenever we want?” Frank says, leaning back in the arm of the couch, moving to put his feet in the coffee table.

“Frankie if you put your feet on my table, I’m gonna beat you with a spoon.” You call at him.

He freezes and slowly lowers his feet back to the floor.

“We just wanted to come see how you were…Frank told us about Barnes.” Curtis says, cutting into the conversation and completely dampening the mood.

God-fucking-dammit Frank.

Oh fuck do I tell them that he’s not an issue and I actually quite like him.

“Yeah are you ok sweetheart?” Billy asks and he collapses on the couch in the middle of the other boys.

“I’m fine guys, I swear, like I told Frank he’s actually not bad,” you answer, shifting uncomfortable lay in your seat due to the indecision of how much to tell them, “He was nice, polite and kind of…charming, I guess-”

“Is that why you kissed him?” Frank interrupts.

Shit, how does he know?

“-what?”

“You kissed him. Or rather he kissed you but you seemed to enjoy it.” Billy says with an annoying smirk on his face.

“How do you know that?” You ask, shock still written all over your face.

“..the security cameras, kid. You forget about those?”

Ahh fuck.

“Ahh fuck,” you say out loud.

“What the hell are you doing making out with a mobster, Y/N?” Curtis responds, looking at you with those eyes of his that show he’s not judging, just trying to understand.

“I..uh..I wasn’t-really-thinking.” You put you hands on your head, even though Curtis wasn’t judging you, the other two definitely were.

“Obviously you weren’t, he’s a goddam mobster Y/N-” Billy starts, anger in his voice, but you cut him off.

“I know that Bill, ok, I do,” you say, shifting to place your feet on the floor, “but he’s not the animal you think he is, he’s kind and considerate and he makes me feel…” happy. you cut off before the last word, wanting to keep that realisation to yourself for a little longer.

“Plus you bastards can’t be judging me for meeting the guy twice, only yourselves and the devil knows what fucked shit you three have been up to.” You almost shout.

“The fuck does that mean?” Frank answers.

“C’mon Frank I’m not stupid, you three have some shady shit in your pasts. I mean you were goddam military for fucks sake, and don’t think I don’t see the fake payments on the books at the shop-“

“Stop Y/N.” Billy cuts you off. “Stop it now.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving yours.

You were about to respond to his demand, when a knock sounded at the door.

“Told you to keep you phone on.” A dark voice calls through the door.

Oh shit. No no no not now please not now.

“Who the fuck is that?” Frank asks, suddenly sitting up straight, eyes pinned on the door. Both Billy and Curtis stand, facing the door as if waiting for it to bust off it’s hinges.

“Please all of you, shut the fuck up and don’t do anything dumb,” you answer, moving towards the door.

“Is that him?” Curtis asks.

“Didn’t I just say shut the fuck up,” you retort a little snappier, opening the door slightly.

He cut his hair, it’s looks good on him.

Bucky lowers his arm from his thwarted attempt at a second knock and says, “Is your phone broken or are you ignoring me?” The smirk on his face made your heart beat a little faster.

“Neither, I just missed your text because I have some friends over right now,” you say.

“Is that why you’re not opening the door properly? I can barley see you,” he says with a grin.

“…kinda? Ok wait..” you exit your apartment, pulling the door closed fully behind you, “long story short, they know about the k.. uh about what happened at the shop, and they know who you are and they are not happy about it.”

His eyes darken and his smirk grows wider at the almost mention of the kiss. He shifts until he’s leaning his shoulder on the wall by your door.

“Oh yeah? Doesn’t really matter what they think though, does it doll? Both you and I know how much you enjoyed it.” He says, mouth forming a cheeky grin.

Oh my god.

“Me? You’re the one who started it Bucky, seemed you enjoyed it more,” you respond, having no idea where the confidence came from.

He hums at your statement and says “Well I can admit that I did enjoy our kiss sweetheart, but I may need a little reminder of how it went, it’s been a long day you see.”

“Bucky-” you’re cut of by him stepping closer until your chests are barley touching, the new position making you tilt your head back to see him better.

“What darlin? You ok with this?” He asks slowly, tilting his head to the side slightly, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Why does he have to be so sweet.

You nod in answer to his question and he smiles. Not the terrifying grin or the cheeky smirk, but a genuine smile - one that makes him even more beautiful. Bucky raises his right arm, dragging his thumb over your lips and cupping your cheek while you stare up at him, his other hand sneaks around your back, pulling you flush to him.

“You have no idea what to do to me, do ya?” He mumbles, probably not intending for you to respond as he’s closing the gap between you. The kiss is harsh and a little messy, shocking you slightly with his apparent desperation, hands holding you tightly. He takes advantage of your shock, tracing your lips with his tongue and pushing past to deepen the kiss.

His hand drops from you face to your waist, gripping so tightly, you’re sure he’ll have left a bruise. That thought got you’re heart pumping faster, the idea that an imprint of his hands, his fingers would be left on your skin. It felt right. Bucky pushes you until your back hits the wall, hips fitting against yours almost perfectly, one leg sneaking between yours as you let a light whimper escape.

You break the kiss to get some air, leaning your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.

“Bucky, I mis-”, you didn’t get to finish the sentence before your door opens and you’re suddenly faced with three pissed off ex-marines.

-(Bucky’s P.O.V)

Bucky immediately steps back, releasing you, and straightens his posture. He looks at the men, quietly analysing them. He can tell that they either are or were military, and definitely care immensely about you, probably to the point of beating the crap out of anyone that hurt you.

The one in the middle is a frightening creature , he thinks, but the wedding band means he has something to loose, he should be less quick to anger, in theory.

The one on the right with the short buzz cut and the tense muscles reminds him of Clint, he’s ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and by the look on his face, I’m gonna be his next target.

The man on the left intrigued Bucky the most. His face is blank, showing nothing. He’s favouring one of his legs, and the other shows a bulky piece of metal at the bottom. Wonder if that’s an old military injury.

“Guys, what are you doing?” You ask, apprehension in your voice. Bucky wonders if you’re scared for them or for him.

“Oh we are gonna head out, let you have some time to really think about what we talked about.” The man in the middle says, putting emphasis on the word really.

“Frank please-”

“No it’s ok sweetheart,” Bucky bristles at the pet name the Clint wannabe says, “we’ll see you later.”

“Billy-”

“Shit, I left my phone on your table, could you get it for me?” The other says to you, cutting off your words, smiling at you to calm the stressed look on your face.

“Of course Cutis, one sec,” you respond, Turing to Bucky at the end of your sentence with a look at says please don’t make this worse.

You pass by the men and let the door fall closed behind you.

The silence is tense as the men all stare at each-other.

“So…how’s your man doing? Y’know the one that got jumped,” Billy says, smirking at Bucky.

“How do you know that?” Bucky asks as his muscles tense.

“…Y/N told us, obviously,” Billy says.

The pause was intentional, she didn’t tell them that.

“He’s fine, thanks.” Bucky responds shortly, all to aware of the lie he was just told.

The door opens just before Billy can respond, all four men going silent again.

“Here it is Curtis, guess I’ll see you guys later then,” you say, before hugging each man.

The three shoulder past Bucky as if he was just a man on the street, no care in the world that he could have them killed for that disrespect. But he lets this one slide, for her, as they’re her friends.

“Did you tell them about Clint?” He knows it was a lie but he needs to make sure his cynical brain isn’t marking it up.

“No? Why?” You answer, unaware of the turmoil occurring in Bucky’s head.

Then how the fuck do they know.

“Give me one minute doll, I forgot something at the car,” he says, “go on inside I’ll be back soon.”

“Uh.. okay.” You answer, walking back into the apartment.

He watches the door and as soon as it closes he is moving back down the stairs, hoping to catch and ask the men how they knew about Clint. Bucky normally has an reasonable explanation for everything, but this time he was stumped. He catches them outside the front door to the building, the three of them stood leaning against their car, watching the door, waiting for him to come out.

“How do you know?” He repeats his question from before, voice lower and more dangerous now.

“Y’know…that bastard has a solid right hook.” Billy says. The sentence sends red hot anger through Bucky’s blood.

It was them. But that means…

“Did you get our package?” The big one in the middle asks, Frank, she called him.

Fuck. The anger that has been burning in his veins since the second he saw those photos of you pours out of him and he immediately pulls a gun on Frank.

“Hey now that’s not smart, is it?” Curtis asks in a placating tone.

“Don’t forget about our girl up there. What’s she gonna think if you shoot me for no reason?” Frank says, unflinching staring down the barrel of Bucky’s gun.

Fuck. Fuck. These bastard are the ones threatening everything, they jumped Clint and are using you to get to him. They’re your friends and you? You have absolutely no idea.

————

Yo this took so long to do!! Hope you like my lil twisty turn at the end there 😈.

Lemme know what u think 😘

Tagged :

@sleepyghostygirl @starlightaurorab @where-the-river-bends @imagines-of-the-fandom @bigenargy @uraverageatiny @squeezyvalkyrie @mylifeispainandiloveit @mrvlxgrl @bopbeepboopbopbeep @yvessaintmuerte @thecubanator2 @flubblubbb @teambarnes72 @ria132love @pingpongfingfong @rivthejellyfish @mybakubaby @blue-chup @goatsmcgee @facinated-lemon @daddylorianisastateofmind @buckybarnesb-tch @yeahimcrying @shifting2places @1-800-bxrnes @fandomsfallnomore @bushtail @ghostofwinter @missdarlingsb @amiets2 @leabunny @justmarlen3 @bofadeezs @jehduxi @grey107th @king-of-spades-aroace @sebismyhubby @princezzjasmine @sebastianswhore @cluckityduck @shuriri4life @calwitch @goodkittyspost @iateall-yourcookies @miss-i-ship-it @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @anawhitethorn @radiator-hands @tripletstephaniescp

[holylulusworld]

Sewer rat (2)

Summary: He broke your heart. Now he must pay for it.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, former Mobster!Tony Stark x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, scared reader, Bucky is scary as shit, mentions of a breakup

Sewer Rat (1)

Sewer rat masterlist

Prey. That’s what you are to James Buchanan Barnes. Well, at least you’re not a sewer rat to him. As long as your information is useful to him, you’re safe.

For how long, you don’t know. He’s, just like Tony, a cold-hearted man unable to feel compassion or love. Sadly, you realized too late that Tony Stark could never love you.

“Let me get this straight. Tony threw you out with nothing but a towel. Still, you got this.” Bucky holds up the little black book. “How did you manage to steal his black book in only a towel?”

“My bathrobe,” your voice cracks, and you drop your gaze. “Did you not wonder why I fought tooth and nail to get my bathrobe, not a pretty dress or at least shoes?” You lift your head to look Bucky straight in the eyes. “The moment Tony Stark stepped into my life, I knew it was too good to be true. Whirlwind romances and men fulfilling your every wish always come with a catch.”

“You hid the black book in the bathrobe, didn’t you?” Steve smirks. He’s impressed you thought about hiding something so valuable for hard times.

“In the first months, I was on cloud number nine, but the façade crumbled. I slowly realized that Tony is not the man he loves to pretend he is. I didn’t think he’d treat me like he did last night.”

“How did you get your hands on his black book?” Bucky is still not convinced you are telling the truth.

“He’s sleepy after—” You bite your tongue and look away. “You know, sex. I couldn’t sleep and got up to get some water. I saw his little black book and phone lying abandoned on the kitchen counter. He was so eager to fuck me in the kitchen, he forgot about it.”

Bucky clears his throat. He shudders; imagining Tony and you going at it is the last thing he wants to think about. “Go ahead, tell us everything.”

“I knew Tony had lots of these black books. He uses them for notes. I sneaked into his office and stole a new one,” you lick your lips as Bucky opens the black book to check on the first names. “That night, I copied the book, writing every contact and code word down. When I came back to the bedroom, Tony was awake. I didn’t get the chance to hide the book somewhere else but in the pocket of my bathrobe.”

“Smart girl,” Steve praises. “This probably saved your life. We are not the kind of people protecting others for free.”

“I know,” you wrinkle your nose. “If you’re not useful, you can rot in hell.” You chuckle humorlessly. “I’m not delusional nor blinded by my undying love for Tony. He showed his true colors, and all I got left is the little book in your hands and all the things I memorized to help you bring his business down.”

“I will check on the information. If you tried to trick me, the things Tony said and did to you will be a pleasant memory.” Bucky’s features darken for a moment. “Steve, ensure she gets food and show her the way to the guestroom.”

“Please come with me.” Steve holds his hand for you. You look at his large hand but refuse to take it. So far, they haven’t proven to be better than Tony. “Alright.” Steve shows his palms. “You don’t trust me. That’s fair. We don’t trust you either.”

Slowly getting up, you take a deep breath. Bucky is still reading the names in the little black book. You only hope he won’t betray you too after you hand the only leverage you hold over Tony.

“The information is gold,” Jake grins while explaining every little detail he found out about the people on Tony Stark’s payroll. “He pays cops, politicians, civil servants, and prostitutes,” he laughs. “Man, even taxi driver. That man seems to be obsessed with staying informed.”

“We will start with the less powerful people. The taxi driver he pays,” Bucky points at a name in the black book. “We will talk to him first. Make sure he knows if he fucks with me, he’ll die.”

“Got it, boss,” Rumlow hums. “Do you want him in one piece, or can I rough him up a little?” He smirks at Bucky.

“We don’t want him to shit his pants yet. Bucky wants to talk to him, not scare the shit out of him. Maybe it’s enough to offer more money than Stark to him,” Steve huffs when Rumlow gets a knife out, grinning. “No violence before we tell you so.”

You’re starving. Until now, you didn’t know you were hungry. It’s been hours since Tony kicked you out of his house and life. It feels odd to give in to a primal need while your heart still lies in shambles, shattered on the ground.

“Good, isn’t it?” Bucky sits down on a chair at the kitchen counter next to you. He looks at the sandwich his cook made for you. “I hope they made something you’ll like for you.”

“I’m not picky,” you murmur before taking another bite. Bucky’s presence in the kitchen can mean two things. Your information is valuable to him, or he wants to kick you out too.

“You know,” he leans closer to steal a pickle from your plate. “I saw you at one of his parties a few months back. You helped a waitress pick up glasses after another guest bumped into her. I knew that you were different at that moment.”

“People are rude; the world too. This doesn’t mean I have to be rude too,” you sniff. “Maybe when it comes to Stark. He deserves to catch hell.”

“That guy,” Bucky steals another pickle from your plate. “Your friend. Do you think he was involved in this shitshow? I mean, he comes back to town to marry and wants to meet up with you out of a sudden.”

“If you already know all the answers, why ask questions?” You muse. “I guess he was paid to get me in trouble. I just don’t know who is behind this conspiracy and why anyone wanted Tony and me apart.”

“We will find out,” he says, eyeing the second half of your sandwich. “Your information was correct. So far. We will see if you are as valuable as you believe you are.”

“I’m not, but this,” you tip your forehead. “I memorized every shady deal and name. Whatever you want to know about his organization.”

“Jake, my smart little tech nerd, is working on finding out more about your friend and his involvement in all of this. If you are helping me, I’m helping you.”

“Quit pro quo, Mr. Barnes,” you reply, and hold out your hand.

“Quit pro quo, doll,” he says, and grabs your hand, making you squeak. "But,” he leans closer to whisper in your ear, “if you try to trick me or fuck me over, you’ll end up six feet under.”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Mr. Barnes

Pairing: Bucky x reader Word count: 977

Read on AO3

Part 5 of Dark Chocolate

Finally, you were changed, and Steve was driving you to the police station. Bucky’s lawyer would meet you there. You were clearly shaken up, never having been in this type of situation before. “It’ll be okay, doll.” Steve assured you. 

“I hope so.” You sighed, no longer crying. However, there was no guarantee that you wouldn’t start again. “I don’t even know what he was arrested for .” You shook your head, clearly bothered. 

“Hopefully it’s nothing.” He was wracking his brain, trying to think what they could possibly have arrested him for. “Clearly whatever it is doesn’t involve me or Sam. We would have been arrested around the same time.” That was his experience, at least. 

You leaned against the window, watching the lights go by. It was three am, and all you wanted was to curl back up with Bucky. Or that you’d wake up and this would be a bad dream. Sadly, those things wouldn’t be happening. “What if he gets put in jail?” Your voice was barely audible. 

“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.” While he sounded confident, he didn’t feel confident. 

You were in a room with Bucky’s lawyer, a woman you had never met. She’d introduced herself as Natasha Romanoff. She was intimidating, but you had a feeling that was a good thing for a lawyer to be.

Finally, after you spoke with her briefly, a cop came in to speak with you. “Hi, my name is detective Hanks.” He held out his hand for you, earning a quick shake. 

“What’s Bucky being arrested for?” You asked, because no one had told you yet. 

He sighed as he sat. “Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Barnes is under arrest for murder.” He explained, making your eyebrows shoot up. 

You were clearly taken aback. “Wha-who-what?!” You gasped. 

“Have you ever heard him mention a Mr. Lang?” He asked, getting out a notepad and pen. 

“No.” You said honestly. “Name doesn’t sound familiar.” 

He made a note of that. “Does Mr. Barnes ever talk to you about his business?” He went on. 

“Of course not. The only time we talk business is when he makes an order at my bakery.” You shrugged. “I never ask about his work, and he doesn’t say.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re dating a known mobster, and you never ask about his business?” He found that hard to believe. “You were driven here by his right hand man.” He pushed. 

“To me, they are simply nice men.” You defended them. “They take my dog to the vet if needed and I’m working. They do repairs around my house. Hell, there was one day I was swamped at work and Sam came in to help.” You told him. “I don’t look at them and see ‘mobsters’. I see my boyfriend, and our friends.” You sat a bit straighter, making Nat smirk. 

Licking his lips, he wrote something on his notepad. He clearly believed that you knew more than you were saying. “Does Mr. Barnes ever stay over at your house?” 

“Now and then, but I usually stay at his.” You didn’t see how that was relevant. 

“On the night of March 5th, was Mr. Barnes with you?” He asked. 

You thought back and nodded. “He was. I worked late for a last minute order for the next day. We had plans, so he stayed at the shop with the guys. They played cards and kept me company. Then we all went to a late dinner before Bucky and I went away for a couple days.” 

“You had an order, but went away? And where did you go?” 

“Yes, I did. I have other workers that are more than capable of handling pickups.” You assured him. “And we went to upstate New York. Rochester.” 

It was clear he didn’t like that information. “Do you know where you stayed?” 

“The Hilton. It was on East Main. I don’t have the number off hand.” 

“We can get that.” He stood. “I’ll be right back.” He felt like his case just fell apart right in front of him.

Steve was waiting against the car when you came out. It felt like it had been ages, and you were exhausted. “They’re getting him out now.” You told him. 

“You did good in there.” Nat told you. She gave your arm a squeeze. “You did not let him intimidate you.” She sounded proud. Looking at Steve, she smirked. “Long time no see, Rogers.” 

He chuckled, nodding. “That has been. Join us for breakfast?” He asked. 

“I think I could eat.” She agreed. 

Turning, you waited anxiously for your boyfriend. You giving him a solid alibi was why he was even getting out right now. Your alibi trumped their ‘witness’. They’d called the Hilton, said the pair of you checked in, and told them they could even see the footage if they wanted to. You assumed they would be doing just that, but for now at least, he was out. 

As soon as you saw him, you ran up and jumped on him. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and he held you close. “I’m so glad you’re out!” You cried into his neck. 

“It’s okay, doll.” He promised you. “Let’s get home.” He carried you towards the car, not wanting to let you go. “Hey, Nat.” He greeted the redhead. “Thanks for making it out here.” 

She shrugged. “It’s my job.” She reminded him. “And she did good in there. She did not let Hanks get to her. She defended you and the guys. He didn’t want to believe she could be dating a ‘mobster’ and not know his business.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as he set you down. “Let’s get changed and then head out to breakfast.” He did enjoy seeing you in his shirt, but he didn’t enjoy being in the sweats they gave him. 

[notyetneedcoffee-posting]

Kicking Up Dust - Part 8

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: NSFW - Smutty times!

A/N: Takes place after ‘Falcon and the Winter Soldier’ with one major exception - Steve Rogers is not dead. He stepped down. This is in line with my Crossroads story. There will also be a parallel Steve story coming.

A/N: If you wish to recieve direct notifications of new stories or updates, please go to NotYetNeedCoffee-Posting, follow and choose ‘get notifications’. Thanks!

Part 7 or Master List

You sat at the kitchen table, reading through the file the trustee company copied for you. There wasn’t much. The documents were copies of copies of copies which made them difficult to read. Unfortunately, other than identifying the trustee and the ‘transfer of the real property and all items found within’ upon the death of Alice Lewis, you didn’t see anything useful.

“So,” you called out to Bucky, who tapped away on your laptop. “Your sister’s husband’s brother wrote up the trust so that upon the death of your sister’s husband’s brother’s wife or the death of the final surviving spouse between your sister or your sister’s husband, literally everything here was to be left undisturbed until the trustee determined otherwise.”

Bucky’s head tilted, following the family lineage as you spoke. He shook his head with a smirk. “My digging has turned up something a bit more interesting.” He pushed back a little. “Come here.”

You moved to his side. He pulled you down to sit on his legs. You’d never been one to crawl onto a boyfriend’s lap, but Bucky was so solid, and he held onto you so protectively, that it was quickly becoming your favorite place.

“Turns out the Lewis family may have had some dirty secrets of their own.” Bucky pointed to a computer readout that looked more like a spy dossier than a Google search. “They first made their money in the late 1800’s buying out local properties at low prices and selling to the railroads for a premium – not something done to that level of success without insider information and a heavy hand. Looks like they did well in businesses that were normally highly regulated. They branched out to transporting goods. I think that included booze during prohibition.”

“Are you saying they were organized crime?” You read through all of the known activities leading up to the time that Bucky’s sister moved into the house. “But didn’t Becca and Archie move because they testified against the mob?”

“I doubt Becca knew.” Buck rubbed the inside of your thigh, but his teeth pulled on his lower lip as he considered. “I wonder if the family that was giving Becca and Archie trouble in Brooklyn weren’t rivals of whomever the Lewis family was aligned with. I think they were middlemen.” He shrugged. “Maybe it provided an interesting solution to another problem.”

“What do mean?”

“At the diner, Keystone Cop referred to the house as the ‘Lewis place’ but Archie and his brother were Petersons.” You grinned at his antiquated reference. “It got me wondering about the people who lived here before Becca and her husband.”

“And?”

“Alice’s uncle Thomas lived here until ‘44. Turns out old Tommy popped up all over where there was bootleg booze to be moved.”

“Did he die in 1944?” You found yourself more interested in his storytelling than the report on the computer screen.

“Don’t know. His son went missing in action during the War and it looks like he went looking for him and never came back.”

“So, no heirs?”

“Nope. Which is why it went to Alice.”

A strange zing of excitement filled you. “Do you think there’s some lost secret in this house? Some hidden mob loot that no one knew about?”

He chuckled. “Maybe. Doubt it. I do think that the Lewis family had enough scary stories about them that over the years the locals just knew not to bother what was theirs.”

“How could Becca not know? They ran a business here for years.”

“All mobsters run businesses. There’s always a legitimate front to a criminal operation.” He huffed. “Maybe the locals thought they were burying bodies under all the trees they were growing for the nursery.” He laughed. “My sister, the wet work specialist.”

You looked mildly horrified, which made him laugh harder.

“She cried every time Steve came by with a bloody nose or a split lip. Seeing people hurt tore her up. She was the most sensitive bird you could ever meet. The thought of her working with goons like that is absurd.”

You nuzzled your face into his neck. “That cop’s reaction was weird, though.”

“Hmm…” He agreed but found the feeling of your skin against his distracting. “Maybe he and I should talk.”

“Talk?” You chuckled. “You scared the piss out of him.” The memory of him, tough face and body taunt, caused you to squirm in his lap. “Says something about me that I found it hot as hell.”

His hand wound through your hair, pulling you back enough to look at your face. “Not too often I get to defend the honor of a lady.”

As you grinned, his mouth captured yours, his warm tongue sliding along your lower lip before dancing with your own. His kisses were raw, passionate, and they turned your insides to liquid fire. You shifted around to straddle his lap, lips never leaving one another’s.

His hand slid up under your shirt, flattening against your back and pulling you tightly against his hard chest. Bucky trailed wet kisses down your neck until your shirt got in the way. A deep hum rumbled up from his throat.

“Tell me we ain’t going anywhere,” his teeth grazed your skin. “Because I really want to take you back upstairs.”

“I can’t think of anywhere we need to be.” You breathed.

A wicked grin spread across his face and he stood with you in his arms. The abnormal strength he possessed boggled your mind. You’d never had a man that so effortlessly manhandled you. Instead of feeling awkward, a sense of feeling feminine and protected washed over you. It was not something you ever expected to experience.

You wrapped your legs around Bucky’s waist as he carried you up the stairs, nearly tripping as he continued to nip at your neck. A bubble of laughter broke through the delighted little moans. “You could have set me on the table,” You giggled. “We don’t have to go upstairs.”

His hands squeezed your ass tighter. “Another time,” his voice was low and thick. “I want to see you stretched out on the sheets, all sweaty, and limp, and happy.”

All laughter left. “You’re incredible.”

He paused in the hallway, kissing you hard. You wrapped yourself around him, arms and legs. Breathing heavy, Bucky pressed his forehead against yours. “You are… fuck, Doll.” He kissed you again. “You are far too good for me.”

Falling onto the bed more than laying you back, he held you close for a moment more before crawling down. His nose found its way under the hem of your shirt. His mouth kissing the sensitive skin of your belly. Giggling, you pulled the offending fabric off to toss it on the floor.

Bucky deftly unfastened your jeans before rocking back on his heels to pull them off. Your giggles turned to laughter as he got tangled up when your jeans caught at your ankles, his overexaggerated efforts being utterly ridiculous.

His laugh joined yours as fell to his butt as he fought his way out of his own clothes. You lay back giggling because he forgot to untie his boots before pulling his jeans down. Suddenly Bucky jumped up and onto the bed, caging you between his hands and knees. You laughed when he playfully nipped your neck.

“Think I’m funny, woman?”

“Hysterical,” a squeal escaped as his fingers found sensitive spots along your ribs. The sound quickly turned to a moan as his mouth latched to your nipple. Just days prior, you’d hoped to see his smile. Now his laughter made you feel light. You felt safe in his hands. His groans and growls lit your body afire.

Bucky licked and nibbled his way down your body, settling between your thighs. The way he loved you with his mouth made you bite back words that you were too afraid to say. He cupped your ass with one hand and palmed your mound with the other so he could pull close and keep you from wiggling away from his attentive tongue until you whimpered.  Your fingers wound into his dark hair as you shook with release.

Your eyes opened to the sight of Bucky licking his lips with a smile on his face. He crawled up, nuzzling your neck. As you reached to wrap your fingers around his hardness, Bucky pulled at your earlobe with his teeth.

“Roll over, beautiful,” he commanded with a rough whisper.

You turned onto your stomach, still trapped under him. You felt him sweep aside your hair as his mouth on the nape of your neck sent shivers to your toes. His knee wedged your legs apart and you eagerly opened wide for him.

Strong fingers, flesh and metal, dug into the muscles of your back as he moved down. Taking handfuls of your ass, he lifted you onto your knees. Bucky’s fingers slid along your wet and swollen sex.

“So gorgeous.” He practically purred.

The head of his cock slid along your entrance and you leaned back, eager for the feel of him. He chuckled, pulling away and teasing again. You whined.

“You want it?”

Gripping the bedcovers tightly, you looked over your shoulder and brazenly answered. “I want you to fuck me hard.”

“God.” Bucky exhaled, pushing in. He slammed into you again. “You are,” his fingers pulled your hips to him. “The most,” you cried out at his thrusts. “Amazing woman.”

Skin slapped skin as you lost yourself to the overwhelming feeling. Heat filled your belly. The power of his grip. The smell of his skin, of sex. The sound of his moans mixing with those of your cries. You didn’t want it to stop. You felt like you would explode.

“Buck,” your head dropped to the mattress. “Bucky, oh fuck!”

His hand twisted in your hair, pulling you back until your back arched to his chest. He squeezed your tit, pinching your sensitive nipple between his fingers. His cock hit the new angle making your whole body quake.

“Come for me.” He growled in your ear.

Bucky held you tight, fucking into you hard. You let go. You gave yourself over to his hold, to the sensation, to the feeling, to him. It tightened and coiled. Your body shook. Bucky breathed heavier, hot against your neck. He began to moan, louder and louder. His body tightened, but you were the one to snap. Coming hard, you pulled him over the edge, too.

You both fell forward to collapse onto the bed, panting, sweat slicked, and boneless. Bucky’s low chuckle made you peel your eyes open. He lay stretched out beside you with his head resting on his hand. “What?”

“You’re just so…” He paused and hid his face in your shoulder. “I would keep you naked and happy all the time if I could.”

You laughed. “So, your personal sex slave, huh?”

He rolled onto his back, laughing out loud. “Sounds like it, doesn’t it? Just mean that you are so beautiful like this and I like making you happy.”

You turned to curl against him. “I am happy.”

“Good.” Bucky squeezed you tighter. “You know what I am?”

“Hmm.”

“Hungry.” Laughing, he kissed you briefly before rolling to his feet. You watched as he wiped himself off with a discarded tee shirt before pulling on a pair of sweats. “I’ll go fix something to snack on and bring it back up.”

“Then maybe a bath?”

“Yeah,” a soft smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “A bath.”

You stretched, feeling the delightful ache in your muscles as you heard him skip down the stairs. The squeak of the pantry door faintly reached your ears. Getting up you slipped on the robe you’d left hanging over the footboard of his bed.   

Bucky shouted, “Stay inside!”

The front door slammed. A car engine roared.

You tied your robe closed and backed into the corner of the room, away from the window and hidden from the door. Listening carefully, you tried to remain calm.

Finally, Bucky called out from the bottom of the stairs. “Doll, it’s okay. Come down.”

You found him leaning over the kitchen counter, his hands in fists. He didn’t look up when you came in the room. His jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscles work and the cords in his neck stand out.

“What happened?” You stayed near the stairs.

“I’ll find who it was.” Bucky growled out. “I could have caught them, but didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“Who?” You whispered.

He stood straight and turned you towards the back door. A small pane of glass had a corner cut from it. “Someone was in the house.” Bucky’s voice was low, deadly. “I saw them just as they jumped in the car. I chased them down the drive, but they turned on the main street before I got close enough. Wasn’t going to leave you alone in case they left someone behind.”

The cold air blowing in through the gap in the glass caused you to shiver. At least that’s what you told yourself.

[notyetneedcoffee]

Kicking Up Dust - Part 8

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: NSFW - Smutty times!

A/N: Takes place after ‘Falcon and the Winter Soldier’ with one major exception - Steve Rogers is not dead. He stepped down. This is in line with my Crossroads story. There will also be a parallel Steve story coming.

A/N: If you wish to recieve direct notifications of new stories or updates, please go to NotYetNeedCoffee-Posting, follow and choose ‘get notifications’. Thanks!

Part 7 or Master List

PART 8

You sat at the kitchen table, reading through the file the trustee company copied for you. There wasn’t much. The documents were copies of copies of copies which made them difficult to read. Unfortunately, other than identifying the trustee and the ‘transfer of the real property and all items found within’ upon the death of Alice Lewis, you didn’t see anything useful.

“So,” you called out to Bucky, who tapped away on your laptop. “Your sister’s husband’s brother wrote up the trust so that upon the death of your sister’s husband’s brother’s wife or the death of the final surviving spouse between your sister or your sister’s husband, literally everything here was to be left undisturbed until the trustee determined otherwise.”

Bucky’s head tilted, following the family lineage as you spoke. He shook his head with a smirk. “My digging has turned up something a bit more interesting.” He pushed back a little. “Come here.”

You moved to his side. He pulled you down to sit on his legs. You’d never been one to crawl onto a boyfriend’s lap, but Bucky was so solid, and he held onto you so protectively, that it was quickly becoming your favorite place.

“Turns out the Lewis family may have had some dirty secrets of their own.” Bucky pointed to a computer readout that looked more like a spy dossier than a Google search. “They first made their money in the late 1800’s buying out local properties at low prices and selling to the railroads for a premium – not something done to that level of success without insider information and a heavy hand. Looks like they did well in businesses that were normally highly regulated. They branched out to transporting goods. I think that included booze during prohibition.”

“Are you saying they were organized crime?” You read through all of the known activities leading up to the time that Bucky’s sister moved into the house. “But didn’t Becca and Archie move because they testified against the mob?”

“I doubt Becca knew.” Buck rubbed the inside of your thigh, but his teeth pulled on his lower lip as he considered. “I wonder if the family that was giving Becca and Archie trouble in Brooklyn weren’t rivals of whomever the Lewis family was aligned with. I think they were middlemen.” He shrugged. “Maybe it provided an interesting solution to another problem.”

“What do mean?”

“At the diner, Keystone Cop referred to the house as the ‘Lewis place’ but Archie and his brother were Petersons.” You grinned at his antiquated reference. “It got me wondering about the people who lived here before Becca and her husband.”

“And?”

“Alice’s uncle Thomas lived here until ‘44. Turns out old Tommy popped up all over where there was bootleg booze to be moved.”

“Did he die in 1944?” You found yourself more interested in his storytelling than the report on the computer screen.

“Don’t know. His son went missing in action during the War and it looks like he went looking for him and never came back.”

“So, no heirs?”

“Nope. Which is why it went to Alice.”

A strange zing of excitement filled you. “Do you think there’s some lost secret in this house? Some hidden mob loot that no one knew about?”

He chuckled. “Maybe. Doubt it. I do think that the Lewis family had enough scary stories about them that over the years the locals just knew not to bother what was theirs.”

“How could Becca not know? They ran a business here for years.”

“All mobsters run businesses. There’s always a legitimate front to a criminal operation.” He huffed. “Maybe the locals thought they were burying bodies under all the trees they were growing for the nursery.” He laughed. “My sister, the wet work specialist.”

You looked mildly horrified, which made him laugh harder.

“She cried every time Steve came by with a bloody nose or a split lip. Seeing people hurt tore her up. She was the most sensitive bird you could ever meet. The thought of her working with goons like that is absurd.”

You nuzzled your face into his neck. “That cop’s reaction was weird, though.”

“Hmm…” He agreed but found the feeling of your skin against his distracting. “Maybe he and I should talk.”

“Talk?” You chuckled. “You scared the piss out of him.” The memory of him, tough face and body taunt, caused you to squirm in his lap. “Says something about me that I found it hot as hell.”

His hand wound through your hair, pulling you back enough to look at your face. “Not too often I get to defend the honor of a lady.”

As you grinned, his mouth captured yours, his warm tongue sliding along your lower lip before dancing with your own. His kisses were raw, passionate, and they turned your insides to liquid fire. You shifted around to straddle his lap, lips never leaving one another’s.

His hand slid up under your shirt, flattening against your back and pulling you tightly against his hard chest. Bucky trailed wet kisses down your neck until your shirt got in the way. A deep hum rumbled up from his throat.

“Tell me we ain’t going anywhere,” his teeth grazed your skin. “Because I really want to take you back upstairs.”

“I can’t think of anywhere we need to be.” You breathed.

A wicked grin spread across his face and he stood with you in his arms. The abnormal strength he possessed boggled your mind. You’d never had a man that so effortlessly manhandled you. Instead of feeling awkward, a sense of feeling feminine and protected washed over you. It was not something you ever expected to experience.

You wrapped your legs around Bucky’s waist as he carried you up the stairs, nearly tripping as he continued to nip at your neck. A bubble of laughter broke through the delighted little moans. “You could have set me on the table,” You giggled. “We don’t have to go upstairs.”

His hands squeezed your ass tighter. “Another time,” his voice was low and thick. “I want to see you stretched out on the sheets, all sweaty, and limp, and happy.”

All laughter left. “You’re incredible.”

He paused in the hallway, kissing you hard. You wrapped yourself around him, arms and legs. Breathing heavy, Bucky pressed his forehead against yours. “You are… fuck, Doll.” He kissed you again. “You are far too good for me.”

Falling onto the bed more than laying you back, he held you close for a moment more before crawling down. His nose found its way under the hem of your shirt. His mouth kissing the sensitive skin of your belly. Giggling, you pulled the offending fabric off to toss it on the floor.

Bucky deftly unfastened your jeans before rocking back on his heels to pull them off. Your giggles turned to laughter as he got tangled up when your jeans caught at your ankles, his overexaggerated efforts being utterly ridiculous.

His laugh joined yours as fell to his butt as he fought his way out of his own clothes. You lay back giggling because he forgot to untie his boots before pulling his jeans down. Suddenly Bucky jumped up and onto the bed, caging you between his hands and knees. You laughed when he playfully nipped your neck.

“Think I’m funny, woman?”

“Hysterical,” a squeal escaped as his fingers found sensitive spots along your ribs. The sound quickly turned to a moan as his mouth latched to your nipple. Just days prior, you’d hoped to see his smile. Now his laughter made you feel light. You felt safe in his hands. His groans and growls lit your body afire.

Bucky licked and nibbled his way down your body, settling between your thighs. The way he loved you with his mouth made you bite back words that you were too afraid to say. He cupped your ass with one hand and palmed your mound with the other so he could pull close and keep you from wiggling away from his attentive tongue until you whimpered.  Your fingers wound into his dark hair as you shook with release.

Your eyes opened to the sight of Bucky licking his lips with a smile on his face. He crawled up, nuzzling your neck. As you reached to wrap your fingers around his hardness, Bucky pulled at your earlobe with his teeth.

“Roll over, beautiful,” he commanded with a rough whisper.

You turned onto your stomach, still trapped under him. You felt him sweep aside your hair as his mouth on the nape of your neck sent shivers to your toes. His knee wedged your legs apart and you eagerly opened wide for him.

Strong fingers, flesh and metal, dug into the muscles of your back as he moved down. Taking handfuls of your ass, he lifted you onto your knees. Bucky’s fingers slid along your wet and swollen sex.

“So gorgeous.” He practically purred.

The head of his cock slid along your entrance and you leaned back, eager for the feel of him. He chuckled, pulling away and teasing again. You whined.

“You want it?”

Gripping the bedcovers tightly, you looked over your shoulder and brazenly answered. “I want you to fuck me hard.”

“God.” Bucky exhaled, pushing in. He slammed into you again. “You are,” his fingers pulled your hips to him. “The most,” you cried out at his thrusts. “Amazing woman.”

Skin slapped skin as you lost yourself to the overwhelming feeling. Heat filled your belly. The power of his grip. The smell of his skin, of sex. The sound of his moans mixing with those of your cries. You didn’t want it to stop. You felt like you would explode.

“Buck,” your head dropped to the mattress. “Bucky, oh fuck!”

His hand twisted in your hair, pulling you back until your back arched to his chest. He squeezed your tit, pinching your sensitive nipple between his fingers. His cock hit the new angle making your whole body quake.

“Come for me.” He growled in your ear.

Bucky held you tight, fucking into you hard. You let go. You gave yourself over to his hold, to the sensation, to the feeling, to him. It tightened and coiled. Your body shook. Bucky breathed heavier, hot against your neck. He began to moan, louder and louder. His body tightened, but you were the one to snap. Coming hard, you pulled him over the edge, too.

You both fell forward to collapse onto the bed, panting, sweat slicked, and boneless. Bucky’s low chuckle made you peel your eyes open. He lay stretched out beside you with his head resting on his hand. “What?”

“You’re just so…” He paused and hid his face in your shoulder. “I would keep you naked and happy all the time if I could.”

You laughed. “So, your personal sex slave, huh?”

He rolled onto his back, laughing out loud. “Sounds like it, doesn’t it? Just mean that you are so beautiful like this and I like making you happy.”

You turned to curl against him. “I am happy.”

“Good.” Bucky squeezed you tighter. “You know what I am?”

“Hmm.”

“Hungry.” Laughing, he kissed you briefly before rolling to his feet. You watched as he wiped himself off with a discarded tee shirt before pulling on a pair of sweats. “I’ll go fix something to snack on and bring it back up.”

“Then maybe a bath?”

“Yeah,” a soft smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “A bath.”

You stretched, feeling the delightful ache in your muscles as you heard him skip down the stairs. The squeak of the pantry door faintly reached your ears. Getting up you slipped on the robe you’d left hanging over the footboard of his bed.   

Bucky shouted, “Stay inside!”

The front door slammed. A car engine roared.

You tied your robe closed and backed into the corner of the room, away from the window and hidden from the door. Listening carefully, you tried to remain calm.

Finally, Bucky called out from the bottom of the stairs. “Doll, it’s okay. Come down.”

You found him leaning over the kitchen counter, his hands in fists. He didn’t look up when you came in the room. His jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscles work and the cords in his neck stand out.

“What happened?” You stayed near the stairs.

“I’ll find who it was.” Bucky growled out. “I could have caught them, but didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“Who?” You whispered.

He stood straight and turned you towards the back door. A small pane of glass had a corner cut from it. “Someone was in the house.” Bucky’s voice was low, deadly. “I saw them just as they jumped in the car. I chased them down the drive, but they turned on the main street before I got close enough. Wasn’t going to leave you alone in case they left someone behind.”

The cold air blowing in through the gap in the glass caused you to shiver. At least that’s what you told yourself.

[mrs-hollandstan]

Is there anyone that wants to be tagged in the next part of Undercover that hasn't previously been tagged?

[hellsbarnes]

thotty thursday: mob!bucky x stripper!reader x mob!steve, omg, that would be so amazing!

୨ 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙙𝙖𝙮 ₊˚ପ⊹ 𝙗.𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 • 𝙨.𝙧𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 ୧

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x stripper!reader x mob!steve

summary: bucky and steve punishes you after you break their rules, not that you mind though

warnings: nsfw, 18+, mdni, threesome, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie (please do not read if you're uncomfortable)

word count: 1.1k

author's note: my last thotty thursday fic is here! i hope you enjoy it and please remember to reblog, thank you!

“What was rule number one?” Bucky asks, looking towards you as you cross your legs, your perfectly styled hair falling down your shoulders, as you lean forward.

“I forgot,” you replied, smirking when Steve shoots you a glare, god if it was thing you loved, it was riling your men up, because hell, the two of them looked pissed off now, and if it were anyone else that was in your place, you were pretty fucking sure that they would have shit their pants by now.

But you, well, you wouldn’t, after all, you did love the way the two mobsters had their eyes fixated on you the whole time you were on that stage that sat right smack in the middle of the bar.

The songs that reverberated through the clubs encouraged you to step up, dressing up in one of your prettiest costumes, the material of the bralette doing practically nothing to hide your tits that looked as though they could spill out any second, and that thong, well let’s just say it was better if you wore nothing at all.

It wasn’t your fault you had every pair of eyes in the club on you, watching as you sauntered on stage in your six inch high heels, sultry smile on your lips as you put on a show, after all your stage name, “temptress” didn’t come from nothing, men and women cheered, wolf whistles following as you got down on your knees, licking your lips you collected dollar notes with your mouth.

“In case you forgot kitten, rule one was that only Bucky and I get to touch that pretty little ass of yours,” Steve grunts and you shrug, the memory of the two of them glaring daggers at the man that had paid you the most attention, he had practically thrown hundred dollar bills your way, copping a feel of your ass along the way.

You hadn’t really minded it, but seeing the way your men looked like they were ready to kill him, you figured that going a little further couldn’t hurt so you lean forward, watching as he stared at you, almost dumbfounded as you swung your legs over his shoulder.

Oh that was it, the next thing you knew, Bucky had stomped over, pulled you off the stage and into the very room you were in.

“Really, because neither of you have touched me, in a damn week,” You retort and Bucky smirks.

“Looks like our girl misses us Buck, what should we do?” Steve asks as he brings his whiskey to his lips, his baby blues gazing into yours as he did.

“I’d say we teach her a lesson, show our little cock slut what happens when she breaks the rules,”

“You heard the man kitten, on your knees, come over to me baby,” Steve commands, and you bite your lip, doing as he says, going on your knees, palms on the floor as you crawl over to Steve, whimpering when he leans forward, pressing a finger under your chin as he tilts your head, his eyes growing darker as Bucky chuckles.

“Look at her punk, all waiting for your cock aren’t you? You want to choke on Steve’s cock don’t you angel, want him to cum all over that pretty little face, want to be taken every way like the fucking cock slut you are” Bucky growls, slapping your ass hard and you mewl, taking the pain and you lick your lips as Steve pops the button of his jeans, the outline of his hard of his hard on pressing against his jeans.

“Come on kitten, it’s not gonna suck itself” Steve says and you nod, moving forward, unzipping his pants, and pulling his already hard cock out, it stood tall, pre cum leaking from its swollen tip, and you gave it a few pumps before you swirled your tongue around its tip, tasting the salty liquid, your eyes locking with his lust filled ones as you took his cock into the depths of your mouth, your mouth hollowing around his dick as you bobbed your head up and down.

“You gonna take her?” Steve asked, groaning when you took him all the way, choking on his cock as you did, tears brimming around the corner of your eyes as he cards through your hair, pulling it as he pushes your head down further, grunting as you gag on his cock, your hand pressed up against his thighs as you did, gasping for air when he lets go.

“Never seen such a pretty pussy, already so fucking wet aren’t you kitten?” Bucky asks and you managed to choke out a yes, moaning when he easily rips your thong off, groaning at the sight of your glistening wet cunt, you were practically dripping and your cries were muffled when Bucky slams into your pussy, barely giving you time to adjust as he stretches your walls deliciously, working up a rough pace as Steve shoves his cock back into your mouth.

Bucky digs his fingers into your hips, thrusting into you mercilessly, each time hitting your sweet spot, god, you were a mess, your mascara stained as you suck on the blonde’s cock while Bucky pounds into you, and all you could do was hang on for the ride as your men used you.

“You like it don’t you kitten, getting your holes filled,”

“I think she does Buck, look at her so fucking pretty with her lips ‘round my cock,” Steve replies and you whimper.

“Fuck, you’re so tight kitten, gonna cream all over my cock,” Bucky growls, and you nod, your back arching as you cave in to your own desires, the knot in your stomach tightening as you found yourself getting closer to the edge.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” Steve grunts, his head falling back as his mouth hung open, that only egged you on as you swirl your tongue around his cock, your moan sending sweet vibrations up his shaft and that was all it took for him to cum, groaning your name as he rewards you with ribbons of warm cum.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” Bucky asks and you nod as you move forward, cleaning Steve’s cock with your tongue, moans falling from your lips as Bucky slams into you over and over again, his thrusts growing erratic as you come undone, your walls tightening around his cock, pulsating as you dived headfirst into euphoria, pleasure washing over you as Bucky follows suit, groaning as he cums, his cock throbbing as he fills you up with his seed.

You were breathless, panting when Bucky pulled out, white stickiness dripping from your cunt. “It's not over kitten,” Steve starts, smirking as he wraps a hand around your neck, squeezing it as he helps you onto the couch.

“Not by a long shot, you need to be taught a lesson angelface,”

note: thank you so much for reading, please remember to reblog, see you soon!

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙙𝙖𝙮

[marvelcriminalhoe]

Steve Rogers Fic Recs

ALL FICS ARE (X READER) STORIES however how inclusive they are depends on the writer. Please read ALL WARNINGS AND NOTES of the authors. Some stories could be DARK or be 18+. You are responsible for reading the warnings.

All works here are COMPLETED works. I will add to the list as more stories are finished :)

Bodyguard!Steve

Presidential by @kaunis-sielu

Biker!Steve

Biker Boss by @kaunis-sielu

Can’t Help Myself by @itsanerdlife

Count Your Blessings by @itsanerdlife

Help Wanted by @itsanerdlife

Hate You Less by @itsanerdlife

Hold on Loosely by @iwillbeinmynest

GreekGod!Steve

Persephone by @kaunis-sielu

Stargazing by @prettyyoungtragedy

SugarDaddy!Steve

Sugar, Sugar by Brooklynboys

Mobster!Steve

Guns and Roses  by @kaunis-sielu

Made in Brooklyn by @marveliskindacool

Secrets and Sins by @kayteewritessteve

Love on the Brain by @howardpotts

Blackbird by @kaunis-sielu

Teacher!Steve

Teacher, Teacher  by @kaunis-sielu

Cop!Steve

Ever After by @itsanerdlife

Cowboy!Steve

Ride & Prejudice by @pagesoflauren

(Sequel) Love & Brotherhood 

Professor!Steve

Back to School  by @jamielea81

Attached by @anika-ann

Royal!Steve

A Knights Lady  by @kaunis-sielu

Love is Not Forced by @just-dreaming-marvel

Love and War by @kayteewritessteve

Heavy is the Head by @luciilferss

Pseudo Princess by @shreddedparchment

CEO!Steve

His Koala Bear by @kinanabinks

Firefighter!Steve

Lifeline by @anagentinwriting

Need more?

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Fixed: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 4 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 3: Love So Soft

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s shorter than my usual updates but I’m busy so sorry for the delay. My final exam dates have come and all I can do is pray right now lol. Please pray for me if you can, this sis is out here writing fanfics for yall instead of studying so, haha. ANyways, enjoy babies! Shit happens in this chapter.

Warning: Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Word count: 5K

Chapter 4: Fixed

You didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. Your hands shook every time you got a flashback and even though you were numb to emotions that entire day, tears threatened to spill whenever your mind took to you to that overpriced kitchen again.

Now that he had gone to a dangerous and unnerved assaulter from a Dad trying to take care of his daughter, your mind wouldn’t put anything past him. You knew that in the back of your mind that he was a mobster and your ‘friendship’ was alarming to say the least, but now there was no denying his resources and power and the very obvious threat to your life lingering in the air.

At least before you had the luxury to be oblivious and ignorant, not anymore though. Steve felt even more unhinged and liberal now, even messaging you daily, greeting texts that you obviously ignored. He knew you both were aware that you never handed him your number and he felt no need to hide his pursuit.

You read most of the messages, not bothering with a single reply though. You tried to block him but somehow your phone would still receive messages from his number, even though his contact would always peek back at you from the otherwise empty blacklist.

As if his torment wasn’t ample, another message thread from a different number would forward you alarming images, photos of Grace in her daycare, on a class trip to the park and even her playing in your backyard. You had no doubt that this was another game of his to show you his resources.

You skipped daycare for a few days, your mental health worse than it was after the carnival attack, because now you had a personal tormentor and you cursed yourself for falling into this mess. At times, you believed it wasn’t your fault really, you just helped a kid and this situation spiraled itself but what would pointing fingers now get you? The harsh truth was you were in a calamitous situation now and every step from now on had to be thought out.

So, you let Grace attend her daycare and acted if nothing was amiss or altered, after the few initial breakdown days of course, kept going to your job and earning the bread. You considered your options, you really wanted to go to the cops or a higher fair power but those were few these days, almost non existent in your city. You also vaguely recalled meeting three of the Captains of the PD at Sarah’s birthday, all smiley and doe eyed for Steve. You knew they wouldn’t help, fucking kiss-asses.

Maybe you would have to move somewhere else, perhaps to your hometown, at least till things cooled down or better yet were forgotten? But that trail was very predictable and you didn’t want your parents in this mess.  

You also came to know that Steve had inserted himself in the other spheres of your life. You were sure your location was always being sent to him, the knowledge a courtesy of the black car following you while you travelled to home at some late day’s end.

Aiden told you whereabouts were easy to track, when you inquired ambiguously. Another instance was when you went to the bank to deposit cash for your debit card, you came face to face with an enormous amount already there. Somehow, the limit on your credit card was also extended. How, you knew. The clerk told you about an email you must have gotten in regards to it, you dismissed that justification away and told them to not accept the cash. To sum the discussion, they weren’t helpful and had no policy against anonymous donors.

Aiden, your trusted coworker cum pal, sensed the shift in your aura and fidgety form very easily, pestering you with questions and you decided to turn to him, stressed and tired and ready to do something. His questioning eyebrows made you confess vaguely but you refused to tell him the extent of it. Just that his prediction came true and you needed help. Let’s just say, Aiden was a good man.

With time, Steve’s ‘affectionate’ messages became deranged, and you found it harder to act nonchalant in your daily life. You were thankful he didn’t come to visit you, possibly occupied with the rumored war between the mobs. You just prayed for a few more days of ignorance, just enough time to think and do something.

“What do you mean someone collected her?!” You had a hard time controlling your voice, you were about to burst, in tears or with anger, you didn’t know.

“The man was verified in the emergency contacts and we got a letter signed and approved by you to skip the day an hour into the first activity.”

“A man? Emergen-, wait no! What fucking approved letter?”

You had three emergency contacts, your mom in another state, Aiden, and one of the other kid’s mom you had grown close to. Aiden was with you at work all day, so did someone disguise themselves as him? And what was the deal with the letter signed by you? You surely didn’t remember writing and authorizing one.

The boy, Pietro, who had been the receptionist for as long as you could remember, shuffled through the chaotic piles of paper and presented a letter to you, and your blood froze as your eyes skimmed the font.

Your beautiful cursive stared right back at you and you knew that no one would ever be able to distinguish between this penmanship and the one in the pocketbook in your clutch. No one but you. Even though you knew you had not written it, the slightly different ‘f’ and ‘g’ told you everything.

Your signature at the bottom though, was done quite perfectly and that made you even more scared.

“I did-, I didn’t write this! What the-” Your widened eyes met Pietro’s from above the paper but all he offered you was a meek smile. Your hands shook with rage and for the first time in your life, you had the urge to slap someone really bad.

“Maybe your family had an emergency to take he-”

“No, you don’t get it!” You stopped yourself from getting frantic, willing yourself to take deep breaths and think rationally. Today of all days, things had to mess up.

He didn’t know you had no family in this city, that you had a mobster after you or the subtle threats that his hired spy sent to you.

Was going to the police an option? Aiden already told you that the cops were as good as Steve’s men. But this was about your missing kid! You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her. And you were giving Steve way too much credit, what if he wasn’t behind this all? Come to think of it, what if the other number wasn’t his?

Relax yourself! Thinking of disturbing theories wouldn’t help anyone. You thought you should go to the cops, just in case. No mentioning of Steve, just a woman with a ‘missing child’ report.

‘Missing Child’ left an acrid taste behind and you were too close to a breakdown, but your whole journey of single-parenthood taught you to kick vulnerability aside, well most of the times.

You turned and were about to leave, but Pietro stopped you. “If you are going to the cops Ma’am, they require 8 hours of inactivity or disappearance time for kids under 5.”

Well look who just read your mind.

You huffed and kept the tears at bay, your mind thinking of what to do then? Grace was obviously taken-

“How could you let a toddler leave without informing the parents?” You knew your anger was channeling out at the wrong man but didn’t he all but hand Grace to the stranger?

You beat him answering and inquired, “What did the man look like? Do you have any footage? Anything?” The wrinkles in your forehead and stress creases on your face paired with the eyebags betrayed your age surely. You were sure you had aged more this week than an entire decade, juggling your normal life with the hovering threat.

“You shouldn’t be this worried Ma’am.”

The fucking audacity.

“Your daughter recognized him, she all but ran to him and this other little girl he came with. You should maybe ask your parent-friends around? A blonde family perhaps?”

As all the emotions drained from your face and terror took over, the young lad in front of you looked smug. You wondered as if you imagined the faintest of smirks on his face.

You crumpled the letter in your hands, seething with rage as you stepped in your car. Oh, you were mad, more wrathful than ever. You could take any hits on you, any threat but not on Grace, never on her.

You were stupid, you had already decided you wouldn’t put anything past him but unknowingly, you did put this past him. You thought this man had a shred of decency to not use your kid in this adult war, being a parent himself and all but what a surprise! You were wrong.

You drove to your home, your thoughts a mix of trepidation, anxiety and fury. You were scared of him and his reach and resources but if he put Grace in any type of danger; whether to teach you a lesson or use her as bait or both, there’d be consequences.

Lord knows you killed a man a month ago Grace was threatened.

You had one thing to do before contacting Steve about Grace but you never got to do it because unexpectedly the bastard was in your home. In your home.

The black sports car outside was a huge giveaway but your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door with your house key. The banter and giggles from inside alarmed yet calmed you; the dread of confrontation and the assurance of Grace’s safety reigned your mind.

As the door opened painfully slow like a horror movie, the sight that met your eyes made you sick with a feeling of failure. It wasn’t gore or blood or grunge, it was Steve bouncing Grace in the air and catching her while Sarah twirled around in the living room.  

This man was craftier than you thought, every action of his was calculated, each a refined step. You had been so preoccupied to avoid direct encounters with him in your little family’s life that you didn’t think he had other ways. He was always looming around with Sarah and as Grace began to trust Sarah, she consequently began to trust her blonde guardian too.

As you slammed the door behind you, Steve’s eyes snapped to yours and his smirk made you want to punch him so hard. The smugness on his face while he let Grace down without breaking eye contact told you he had no regret, no remorse. In fact, he was loving every second of this cat and mouse chase between you two.

You were a millimeter close to losing your shit, the only check being the kids in the room. But you were mad and he was going to know it.

“What the hell, Steve? Messing with my kid?” You threw your clutch onto the couch, Steve haughty by the reception of his sent message but still holding back because of the kids. He called Wanda and you didn’t really notice where she came from but you did register Steve asking to take the girls to the park for a ‘private discussion’.

As Grace passed by you, you grabbed her arm lightly, making her look at you with doe eyes resembling yours. You gave her a smile trying to ease her, but you knew she was smart enough to sense the change in the atmosphere.

Apparently, the whining Sarah wasn’t.

You looked back to Steve, your hold still on Grace and continued with a frown and raised eyebrows, “She isn’t going anywhere, not out of my sight and obviously not with you or your goons.”

Wanda had the audacity to look offended and you scoffed at her, eyes staring Steve’s down.

“Honey, I don’t think the kids should hear what I think you have to say right now.” He said nodding to Wanda to take Grace.

“You must be deranged to think I trust Grace near anyone even remotely related to you! Take your people and get out.” You held your hand up to stop Wanda and pointed towards the door with the most menacing glare you could form.

Grace looked incomprehensibly between you two, concern and confusion on her face. That might have been the first time such a tone was used in your household. The grumbling Sarah was close to throwing a tantrum, irritated by the change in the playful air or the lack of attention to her, you didn’t know. She was hanging on Wanda’s forearm, her feet slipping on your printed rug. Wanda was trying to not look hurt still by your previous statement, distracting herself by the blonde kid and you were baffled by her obliviousness to all this.

Steve, the beefy blonde Lucifer, was furious and seething. His white knuckles and ticking jaw were the most obvious giveaways, the fingers just itching to beat the shit out of someone no doubt.

Was he imagining striking you into compliance into his weird playhouse game complex? You wouldn’t be surprised given the extent of his attempt to ‘win’ you over.

The ‘get out’ tone and blatant disrespect was a bruise to his ego for sure, and by you, a middle-class woman nonetheless was a worse injury. Steve was the deadly boss to armored men in the vicinity, the kids’ father figure, according to him, and Wanda’s stern yet kind employer.

People had been killed for less and there you were, standing in all your glory, being the only person alive to reject Steve Rogers and now, the only to raise your voice at him.

You almost scoffed at his impudence to look offended, what did he expect? For you to submit to him after the stunt he pulled? His reach was scary he proved today and that any future with him in your life in any way, was a fearsome possibility to entertain but you’d be damned if you went down without a fight.  

“You can’t make me leave; we both know. You don’t have the physical edge nor the mental one. I have no problem drawing out G-U-N-S in front of the kids or to throw the warnings around, although I would prefer not to.”

Your free hand itched to slap him, like how his did minutes ago. It wasn’t a mankind problem about men thinking they were entitled to everything; it was a Steve Rogers’s problem. Of course, with him consent didn’t matter. If he had a ‘housewife, kids and fences’ fixation, he’d make it come true.

“Do you even listen to what I say? Or your own words even? Please, go ahead! Traumatise my kid and also yours in your wooing process! Why are you so obsessed? Leave us alone, you freak! I just ignored few messages!” You had a hard time maintaining your cool, if there was any left. You were sure you were scaring Grace and no matter what happened next, you knew she was already traumatized by this entire ordeal already. You were so sorry, so, so, so sorry to your poor baby caught in this mess.

You knew, no, you hoped, he wouldn’t pull out the gun, his actions at the carnival a proof, you remembered how he hid his gun on finding Sarah. That threat was empty but the next one wasn’t, his words making you freeze in your spot.

“I think you keep on misunderstanding me, sweetheart. I don’t make empty promises,”

Posh word for threats.

“For starters, maybe I should pay my future in-laws a visit in their blue duplex. They might need help with the vast garden they have, it is the season for ‘violets’, isn’t it?”

As you froze with your parents being brought up, he also cooled, albeit differently, smirking once again gaining the upper hand, not that he lost it if you were being honest.

“Isn’t threatening my kid enough for you, Steve?” You hated how your loud voice almost broke, your anger slowly subsiding into helplessness and you hated that. You hated his guts, his entitlement, his claim; everything about him.

“You still don’t see it, do you? Our family of four is the most important thing to me right now and I’m not above doing anything to save it.”

“There is no family of four Steve! I keep explaining and you keep coming back to square one with all this bullshit!” The curse word did tick Steve off but he would correct that later, when bigger things weren’t at ploy.

“Your ignorance makes me a little mad sometimes sweetheart and that is why I have to do all I do. You haven’t realized we need each other yet, but I’m staying until you do and even after that, I promise. You know how much it pissed me off to see your tickets and the packed suitcases after I’ve been nothing but nice? I was so generous to spoil you with my riches but instead I find that in your finances.”

This fucker knew. Of course, he did!

You were wondering in the back of your head what had prompted this visit with so many threats and warnings and anguish. He was pissed even before you ‘acted out’, he tracked the tickets and the plan and that meant he even tracked-

“You have so much to learn, but luckily you interact with quite a few people. I am most tempted to start out with this Aiden guy, trying to be the hero and giving you all the ideas. Maybe I should visit him?” Steve wondered out loud, and you flinched at his suggestion, hating how you were trapped by this man.

You couldn’t live with yourself if anyone got hurt because of you, be it your parents or Aiden or any other possibility Steve would come up with. Of course, Grace was your peak priority but you doubted he would hurt her as he threatened to harm them.

“Steve, please.” The fire was almost out, your hands trembling, Grace worried and Steve smug.

“Let the kids go and I think we can come to a conclusion.”

“Steve this needs to stop.” You said, your breaths heavy and helplessness clawing away at you.

“I won’t repeat myself.” He voiced out with a threatening edge, gesturing to Grace and Wanda, clearly telling you to first get the kids out.

For a deranged fucktard, he sure cared about the kids a lot.

You loosened your hold on Grace, patting her arm softly and nudged her to Wanda. Wanda received her little hand and enticed the kids with the promise of ice-cream. Sarah clapped her hands and as the trio left, Grace did look over her shoulders at you in concern and for permission, majorly in concern though. You nodded and waved, a tear dropping as soon as the door clicked shut.

You were still staring at the door, not wanting to meet Steve’s stormy blue orbs when he began, “Today was a slip up that I won’t tolerate again. Neither the cursing nor the dramatics.”

We aren’t in a fucking play, what the fuck is he labelling as dramatics?

Your eyes slowly flickered to his, and you had a hard time not letting the tears escape except the one traitorous one earlier. The fatigue, the worry of Grace’s disappearance, the threats to your friends and family were all catching up to you. It took all in you to stay strong and not fall down right now.

“Steve this isn’t funny anymore. It’s sick and you know it! I just said no! Was that so inexcusable that you had to follow up with this? You have violated me for that, broken into my home and now kidnapped my daughter! At what extent will you stop?” You broke down finally, arms a flailing mess as fat tears rolled down. Nothing scared more than the helplessness this moment. He won and he knew it. The carnival incident was nothing in comparison to this. The only good thing you could hope in all this was a safe Grace but that too only if you complied, which seemed like what you would do now given your attempts at fighting back and scampering have failed laughably.

“Gosh, I forgot how theatrical women are. You are smart darling; you know what I want from day one, just a happy family. Nothing that horrendous has happened and especially not as badly as put it. I’m just looking out for you and me in the long run.” Steve slowly treaded towards you, his hand extended to pat your arm comfortingly but you involuntarily flinched at contact and stepped back. Steve clearly didn’t like that as he caught your arm in a bruising grip and jerked you towards him. Manhandling you as your wet hands rushed to ease his grip was not a tough task for Steve, a surprise to none.

“Stop trembling like I’ve actually done something to harm you!”

Steve clearly didn’t know how to comfort women and it showed.

You stopped with the cowering away, even though it disgusted you to be this much in close proximity with your assaulter. He clearly had anger issues and no clue how to solve them. You needed to steer the conversation right and get him out. You could see your hands visibly shake as you put them on his chest, just to create some distance and in a way of surrendering to not fight. The tears slowed but you don’t think they stopped; it was hard to tell with a million other things on your mind.

As your eyes made contact, Steve loosened his grip, clearly a bit satisfied by your submission, as he began counting to help you breathe. As much as you hated to admit, it helped you and you got a flashback to the time when you freaked out on him about Grace at that extravagant dinner date. That was a sweet gesture then, not so sweet now. Funny how drastically things change with time.

It wasn’t so much Steve’s help as it was your own mind telling you to be fucking smart about the whole ordeal right now.

“Good. Better. Now let’s talk. Why were you planning to run away? I’ve been busy and coming home to find out that wasn’t joyful, you know.” His smile suggested a better mood than before but his voice, his husky voice always had this daring edge that almost challenged you to defy him but at the same time warned you of unpleasant consequences if you did.

“Steve, I’m scared.” You spoke with utmost honesty. “The part of the world you associate yourself with scares me. You can’t blame me for not wanting that life for Grace, I mean you have a kid of your own. Wasn’t the carnival attack specifically on Sarah?”

The reasoning was right but you knew you triggered him the moment his smile evaporated. He either felt insulted as a parent or disrespected in his profession or probably both.

He was fighting his inner demons already and you pointing it out was a slap to his face, a hit he didn’t want to take.

“That was a slip up, I admit. Never again. I’m only human, okay?” He convinced himself and you, his grip tightening a bit again.

Oh no, not the right direction to take.

You reckoned he still had nightmares about it like you, he really did love Sarah a lot, all things aside.

“Besides, I am looking out for you! Out for you and Grace and Sarah. I remember my promise of never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

You definitely didn’t trust his security or his people because what sort of a mobster let his daughter get targeted and possibly abducted? You definitely didn’t know the whole story or if it was just a bad day but he wasn’t a person that deserved some slack. Despite all this, you knew what all he held above you, above a common man. He might not be ‘Kingpin’ skilled but a threat to you nonetheless.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Is that what you call following me around, huh?” which you immediately regretted.

“Trust the process, baby. Everything is just to protect you.”

Is that what he called stalking even Grace around and twistedly enough, sending you proof of that? The anonymous thread of photos was another nightmare of yours, thanks to him. The last being a candid photo inside Grace’s room, her sleeping in her bed this morning and that’s when you decided you needed to get out. Of course, that didn’t go as planned.

“How am I supposed to do that when you have cameras in my house?!” You scoffed and he reeled back at the accusation, having the nerve to look impressed at being uncovered and caught red-handed.

“Oh my fucking God, it was you! You sick pervert!” You jumped out of his grip, your eyes wide and horrified. “I wasn’t aware of what to make of it but of course, it was you! Who else would be sick enough to do that?” You let out a humorless chuckle. You always put things past him even when you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. When will you ever learn huh?  

You were full on panicking yet again, this man was an assaulter, a stalker and a creep too. It would have made a good dark, psychological thriller for you to watch if you weren’t the protagonist about to suffer his obsession.

He reached out to steady you again, but you whipped and stumbled back, realizing too late that you elbowed Steve’s nose so bad that there was a crunch. That, right there, was the look a man real-fucking-furious on Steve’s face and now you could see the feared mobster, the man who was personally terrorizing you under the beautiful, Greek God façade.

Steve reacted so fast even with an injury that in a split second, your view of his face turned into a view of his crotch.

“You do realize that there are others ways for me to teach you obedience? I think it’s fucking time you show me your gratitude for my care and attention and apologize for your misconduct and unkind response.” Steve spoke with a hoarse voice, a voice running out of patience and just about done with defiance.

His hand fisted your hair, maintaining eye contact while he nodded between you and his crotch. You knew what he wanted, what he was expecting as ‘thanks’.

“Steve, please no, you don’t-”

His other hand grabbed your jaw, stopping you from speaking as he warned, “I think you have done just enough talking for today, so why don’t you put that tongue to a better use and show me how sorry you are. Better make it convincing because I’d hate to pay one of your friends a visit and then bitch about a nasty blowjob.” He smirked at the end of his monologue, eyes shining with triumph and amusement.

You wouldn’t let him harm anyone else, you couldn’t. You and your daughter were already knee-deep in a pit and at this point, it’d just be cruel to drag someone else in. With shaky hands opening his pants, you just hoped you could get Grace out before you eventually were buried in it.

“Now that’s a good girl. Submissive is a sexy look on you.” His hands patted your hair, playing with your tresses while yours pulled his pants and then briefs down.

His member jerked out, almost slapping you in the face as you recoiled at his insolence to get hard and erect at your torment. Your disdain must have shown which he took as admiration and derision to take his affluent cock in.

“No need to get shy, I have faith you’ll be able take it just as well in your pretty pussy as you will right now. Open up-”

“Steve, I beg you-”

Just as you had cut him off, he interrupted your pleading. Your gag reflex was probably the most efficient in the world but that turned this narcissist on. It had been years since you had done it, never with a man as beefy as Steve.

His taste was salty and if you had to put it into better words, it was the like overpriced sea salt flakes that you never bought. High and pricey and for the entitled.

Your hands clutched at his thighs as you blacked out multiple times; your jaw aching, uvula swaying and tears escaping. Him forcing himself on you brough a new sense of vulnerability as your body trembled. Steve relished like a sadist, practically rutting into you all by himself as you just sat there with your jaw unnaturally open.

His obscene moans and groans were crass and nauseating and you just prayed for this to be over soon and for no one to walk in on this, especially your kid.

It seemed like it would never end, your body dehydrating with all the spit it produced, the drool dribbling and landing just beside your knees on your printed rug. You would have to throw that out.

The tears stooped after some point, the sobbing an unnecessary action that just tired you out more on this eventful day. You moved your tongue around to prevent your teeth from scratching him when he shifted angles. If this was what he did on slightly mad, you didn’t want to find what he did for a more serious punishment.

Apparently, that action was something that turned him on even more, his breath hitching as neared closure. In broken whispers he demanded that again and you complied, wanting to get done with it.

He growled in the moment of his release and you tried to lean back but his grip didn’t relent. “Swallow.” His grainy, exasperated voice said out loud and you knew better than to defy.

He released you and you fell on to the rug, hip bruising by knocking into some furniture and tears coming back again after being hydrated by his seed. He packed himself, his smile smug and content as his expressions truly resembled ecstasy being personified.

“You be a good fiancée from now on and maybe you’ll have all your friends alive and present at our wedding. No cheeky business from now on, got it?” Steve hummed then and strutted out, not even bothering to listen to your reply.

As soon as the door slammed, your eyes closed and your demons danced again.

There was no right direction to take when you were stuck in a loop.  

[holylulusworld]

Sewer Rat (3)

Summary: He broke your heart. Now he must pay for it.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, former Mobster!Tony Stark x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, scared reader, Bucky is scary as shit, mentions of a breakup, Tony being an asshole, Rumlow is no better, hatred on men

Sewer rat (2)

Sewer rat masterlist

“Pier 3,“ you recite the information you memorized if Tony ever turned his back on you. “He likes to use the warehouse there for interrogations. He pays the guards, and the cops look the other way.”

“Good,” Steve nods while taking notes. “We will check on the warehouse and see if he’s hiding our informant there.”

“I’m not sure, okay,” you hastily add. “It’s simply an assumption. I heard him talk about the warehouse and Pier 3 more than once. Not while I was around, of course. Only in a hushed tone in private.”

“Steve, be careful. It could be a trap,” Bucky warns. “No hasty decisions. Maybe Stark tries to fuck us over by feeding his bed bunny the wrong information.”

You flinch at his crudeness. Bed bunny, that’s what women are to these men. Nothing else. A toy to use until they get bored or find a better toy.

“If the information was right too, can I go then?” You hope Bucky will keep his word and help you start a new life. A few bucks and new papers will be enough. You’re not picky like Tony’s ex.”

“Boss did ya hear? Stark already replaced her." Rumlow snorts in your direction. He’s not the nicest guy, but you didn’t expect him to be friendly.

Bucky quirks a brow. “Oh, whom is he fucking now?”

Rumlow makes a face. “Potts, his ex.” He snorts. “If I exchange a pussy for another one, I’d choose a new one. Not an old hole I already fucked.”

That’s enough. They don’t know anything about love. You don’t need a guy like Rumlow to make fun of your predicament and broken heart.

“He can fuck any hole he wants to fuck. I don’t care. Your input is useless to me,” Bucky mutters as he watches you close the door behind you. “Next time, don’t mention it in front of our new informant. She’s a little sensitive when it comes to her ex.”

Brock rolls his eyes. “Did ya get weak for some pussy, boss? She’s only a random informant.”

“I gave you an order,” Bucky snarls at Rumlow. “I expect you to follow my orders without asking questions. If she’s crying her eyes out, she’s not useful to me.”

You angrily wipe your already swollen eyes. His ex. Out of all the women he could replace you with, it’s his ex. Pepper Potts. The shadow you were living in for the longest time. It was only a matter of time for her to reclaim her throne.

“Spilled milk,” Bucky waltzes into the guestroom. Well, you cannot expect privacy in his house. You’re nothing but an unwanted guest, an intruder even. “You shouldn’t cry over him.”

“What do you know about feelings and love?” You snap at Bucky. “Not days ago, I believed Tony would propose, and now he’s banging his ex. The red-haired devil.”

“As I said—” He stops right in front of you to grab your hand and keep you from wiping off my tears.“ If you want me to help you, these will be the last tears you waste on him. I need your sharp mind to bring Stark down. What I don’t need is a crybaby.”

“You’re such an insensitive asshole, Barnes. You all are. Men are all the same,” you snap at him and wiggle your wrist free. “Why do women still waste their time on you? You don’t deserve love and devotion. None of you. We should let you go extinct.”

Bucky snores at your outburst. “You can be funny too. No wonder Tony kept you around for longer than his usual flings.”

Getting reduced to a fling stings. You know by now that Tony never loved you; otherwise, he would’ve listened when you tried to tell him that you’d never cheat on him.

“I cannot understand how women and men can be so different,” you say, and look around the room. “We don’t belong together. You only want sex—a warm body to lean on once in a while. We look for a connection and a deeper meaning beyond psychical touch.”

Shaking your head, you look at your hands. They’re trembling. “It’s not worth the pain and disappointment. If men like us commit to a woman, it’s more than marriage or a relationship, Y/N. Till death do us part means something different in our world. You should know that. If you are mine, you’ll be in danger all the time.”

“Tony never warned me,” you murmur. “He came into my life and..." You shake your head, chuckling humorlessly. “He simply demanded that I change my life to commit to our relationship. I gave up my job, my home, and my friends. I built my fucking life around his needs, only for him to throw me out like trash.”

“I told you, no more tears.” He roughly cups your face and growls your name, “It’s not worth it. Love is an illusion. Nothing else.”

“What a sad world we’re living in,” you conclude. “In the end, you are all great pretenders, aren’t you?” Lifting your chin defiantly, you look Bucky straight in the eyes. “Tony pretended to love me. My friend pretended to be my friend. And you pretended to be on my side. All of you used me differently.”

“May I remind you that you came to me?” Bucky angrily replies. “I didn’t use you. It was a business transaction. You deliver information; I protect you.”

“Sure, you do,” you reply without missing a beat. “For as long as I’m useful. After that—” You shrug and keep the ending open. Just like Bucky does.

Jake worriedly looks your way. “Boss, I don’t think she should see this.” He says and pleadingly looks at Bucky.

“Play the footage, Jensen,” Bucky grunts. He’s not in the mood to waste more time finding the people behind your downfall. “Now. I don’t have all day.”

While you nervously wring your hands, Jake starts the video. It’s your friend and certain redhead talking. The timestamp tells you the meeting took place one week before he called you.

You can hear Pepper tell your friend to call you and pretend he wants to marry. That he must hug you and kiss your cheek. She wanted him to spend time with you and that she'd take care of the rest.

“Pepper Potts, what a devious snake you are,” Bucky muses. “Who would’ve thought she would go so far only to get that old man’s dick again?”

“Me,” you reply. “She threatened me whenever she got the chance. Pepper believed I was the reason for their breakup. In reality, I met Tony half a year after their breakup.”

“You mean he told you so, sweet cheeks,” Rumlow snickers. “I hate to break it for you, but Stark wanted to get into your pants. He’d told you about the sun and the moon to get between your legs.”

“As amusing as my heartbreaks must be to you, this won’t help me start a new life.” You shrug when the men stare at you. “She got away with it, okay. Tony is banging his ex, and all my shit belongs to her now. All I want is to get out of this town without getting shot.”

Bucky grabs you by your arm to guide you out of the room. “It took us days and lots of resources to find out the truth. You could show a little more gratitude.”

“I gave you everything to destroy Tony and take over his empire. That should be enough, don’t you think?” You try to put a brave face on and not show weakness. Bucky owes you, and he knows it. “When will you get me out of town?”

“You’re mine for as long as I tell you.” He cups your face with his gloved hand. “Don’t you dare believe for one second I’ll shelter your life if you keep on talking like that to me.”

“Breaking promises already?” You challenge. “I believe you’re known for being a man of your word.”

“I am a man of my word.” He kisses you hard, taking you by surprise. You gasp when he steps away seconds later. “When I said you’re mine, I meant it.”

Tags in reblog.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Good Business: Part 16

Fandom: Marvel (Mob AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a ruthless mobster. He’s also referred to as Big Buck due to his towering strong frame as well as his round stomach. You’re the owner of a small diner, a place that Big Buck decides to visit. Based off this drabble.

A/N: uuuummmmm....do people still care about this story?

warning: violence

You’re sitting in the back of the cop car, leg bouncing while you wait for Steve to respond. 

You: SOS

You let out a breath of relief when Steve texts back:

Steve: what’s going on?

You: with the cops, not getting a good vibe. supposedly going to the station, but i don’t think we are.

Steve: what’s your location?

You immediately send him your location and you’re hoping to whatever almighty above that you’re not dying today.

__________________

Bucky’s phone is buzzing on his desk and he’s looking over some papers when he mindlessly answers it, “Hello?”

“We have a situation,” he hears Steve say in a very serious tone. 

Bucky immediately sits up straight on high alert, “Rumlow?”

“Maybe? Y/N texted me and told me she was being brought in by some officers, but she has a bad feeling. What do you want me to do?”

Bucky clenches his jaw and runs a hand over his beard, “Do you know where she is?”

“She sent me her location.”

“Good. Find her. Get her and bring her to one of the houses upstate. I’m gonna pack some stuff and head back,” he immediately grabs the papers he was looking over and stuffing them into files. He then took the files and tossed them into his desk drawer. 

“Buck, is this really a good idea?”

He pauses, thinking over his options, “At this point, I think I’m done playing nice with Rumlow, Steve. He’s messed with me, my business, my family, everyone I’ve ever cared about for too long. It’s time to show him who the real boss is.”

_______________

You’re not really surprised when you’re getting further and further away from the busy streets and population. Your palms are starting to get really sweaty and your heart is pounding in your ears. 

“We’re...not going to the station are we?” you manage to ask, but met with silence. 

Like a typical mob movie, you approach what looks like an abandoned building. When the car stops and the door flies open, you fight as much as you can to get away from these men, the uncertainty of your fate weighing down on you.

“What the fuck is going on?! Who are you guys?!”

“It’s in your best interest you stop fighting, sweetheart.” you look up to see a man in what looks like a knock off Dior suit. He’s tall, his hair slicked back and looks like bad news. 

“Who the fuck are you?” you spit out and the man smirks.

“Barnes never mentioned me, huh?” the man walks closer to you, one hand in his pocket, the other twirling a switchblade, “I’m Brock Rumlow, sweetheart, and I just wanna talk.”

“I don’t know where Bucky is! He broke up with me and I haven’t had contact with him since! So whatever macho bullshit is going on between the two of you has nothing to do with me!”

Rumlow chuckles with a shake of his head, “Oh, honey, as soon as you got involved with Barnes, it had everything to do with you. And since him and his family decided to run for the hills, you’re my next best bargaining chip.”

Using the handcuffs the officers carry, they handcuff your wrists behind your back and push you to follow Rumlow into the warehouse. 

The place was just as you expected. Dimly lit, a gross musty smell lingering in the air, and, of course, a single chair waiting in the middle.

“Jeez, dude, how many mob movies and shows have you watched? Really trying to be all big and tough and soprano-esque aren’t ya?” that comment earned you a slap to the face and you chuckle, looking up at the supposed cop that was to protect and serve citizens like you.

“My grandma hits better than you, my dude.”

SMACK!

“Damn, I can see why Barnes like you, sweetheart,” Rumlow states as he sharpens his switchblade, “You’ve got a fire to you, huh?”

“I’m also amazing with my hands. I can show you if you uncuff me,” you say with a sweet smile despite your cheek starting to swell from the blows you’ve taken. The cops snort and start to tie you to the chair with some rope. 

“So, sweetheart,” Brock runs his blade along your cheek and you wince when you feel the ridges slightly scrape along your skin, “let’s have a little fun, shall we?”

You have a mischievous look in your eyes when you smile and say, “Yes, let’s.” with that, you kick one of the cops that was tying your legs to the chair. The action causing Rumlow to stumble back and fall on his ass.

You took the opportunity to stomp onto his hand that reached for his blade, breaking the bones. He cried out in pain and the two dirty cops raced to you. Your hands were still cuffed behind your back, but that didn’t stop you from fighting. 

After Bucky had left you, you decided to take up self-defense classes, afraid something like this would happen. Looks like you were right. 

You give a roundhouse kick to one cop, knocking him out in an instant. The other cop grabbed for his gun, pulling it out, but only to have it kicked out of his hand. You then kick him in the gut making him fall back. That’s when you gave a blow to his face, hearing a crack. He didn’t move after this. 

You looked at Rumlow who clutched his hand in pain, anger in your eyes, “You messed with the wrong girl.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, sweet cheeks.” your ears perk at the familiar voice, your heart pounding. 

You turn to see Bucky, Steve, and the rest of the gang filing into the warehouse armed and dangerous. 

Rumlow chuckled, standing up, “You’re not gonna kill us, Barnes. It’s not fair, you guys against us three? That’s bad form.”

Bucky scoffed, “Bad form? You wanna talk bad form, Rumlow? Bad form is coming onto my territory and shooting my businesses up. Bad form is threatening to kill my family. Bad form is kidnapping the woman I love in order to get to me. I’m done with your shit, Rumlow. There’s only one king of Brooklyn and that’s me.”

With a single shot ringing through the warehouse, Brock Rumlow fell dead with a bullet right between his eyes.

Handing his gun off to Steve, Bucky rushed over to you, cupping your face and examining the damage that’s been done, “Oh, sweet cheeks,” he said somberly.

You shook his head, “It’s not that bad. I mean, check out the other guys,” you nodded to the unconcious dirty cops on the ground. 

“Yeah, about that, what the fuck?? Since when did you learn how to do that shit?”

You shrugged, “I had to be prepared. I’m not some damsel in distress, Barnes.”

Bucky snorted and kissed your head, “No you’re not, sweetheart.”

Steve approached you, jingling the keys to the handcuffs. He unlocked them and you rubbed your wrists, “Don’t know why you called me, Y/N. Looks like you handled yourself just fine.”

“You can never be too sure, Steve.”

He gave you a hug and kiss on the cheek, “Glad to see you’re okay.” then he looks at Bucky, “Now what?”

Bucky scratches at his beard and looks at the three bodies around him, “Get rid of the bodies and any evidence we were here. I’m gonna take Y/N to the hospital-”

“No,” you say with a shake of your head.

He gives you a stern, “Baby, you-”

“I’m fine, Bucky. They’ll heal,” you wrap your arms around his thick bicep, “I just wanna go home with you.”

He sees the desperation in your eyes and he agrees. He sees that you missed him and he missed you too. So how could he deny the chance to be with you again?

“Alright, sweet cheeks. I’ll take you home.” he removes his arm from your embrace, instead protectively wrapping it around your shoulders, “You’re gonna be okay now, baby.” he presses a soft kiss to your head and you both walk back to his car.

Good Business Taglist (CLOSED): @cametobuyplums @sergeantrosabellaswan @asadmarveltrashbag​ @youcanhaveyourspacecowboy​ @reniescarlett​ @j-the-smol-otter @buckysknifecollection @lowkeysebby @rinthehufflepuff @134340-cm @snoot-snoot-toot @seabassali1328 @bluebellhairpin @emzy106 @viarogers @feelmyroarrrr @vxidnik @jasura @jade-cheshire3303 @yknott81 @baliebay19 @jessieray98 @fandommemporiumm @iluvsumbucky @bucksandroses @lecoindenox @ylva-stark @booktease21 @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @cheyenne222222 @momobaby227

[usernamesarebitches]

Hey I need help finding a mob!bucky fic! I literally read it last night and know I liked it and it's like its disappeared from Tumblr.

It is a mob!bucky x reader, with dark!steve involved. Basically Bucky is a mobster and Steve is a cop and they hate each other and Steve is married to the reader so Bucky kidnaps her as leverage but he doesnt realize that the reader is actually being verbally and physically abused by Steve in secret so Bucky protects reader and finds Steve and beats him up. It's a one shot! Please help!

[elysianecho]

Steve Rogers is a Klutz™

Summary: Getting shot by mobsters and finding Captain America and Spiderman on a roof in the span of one week is weird. 

Getting shot, meeting two Avengers, getting helped by one of those Avengers, and then meeting the rest of the gang?

"What is my life coming to?”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x cop!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, some blood, reader being stalked, mentions of gunfights, people falling off ladders. I think that’s everything? Let me know if I’ve missed something!

Word Count: 6593

A/N: This is might make it on time. This is a smidge late. I’m SOOOOO sorry, Anika! Please forgive me. Life is dumb. 

Anyway! This is for @anika-ann​’s 500 Celebration! You rock, girl! My prompt was: 

“Say something so we know you’re okay!” “Ow.” 

It will be bolded in the story.

This is a hot mess but: Enjoy!! :D

~~~~~

Why was he here again?

“Okay, so, there’s been these guys that have, like, lasers and bombs and stuff—”

Oh, yeah. 

Steve watched as Peter explained what the latest baddies had been up to in Queens. Judging by the amount of arm waving Peter was doing, he was explaining through interpretive dance. He was in fact, listening to Peter, but he was also keeping an eye on their surroundings. According to Peter, the baddies were supposed to hit a bank near here tonight. 

“Listen, kid, ya gotta analyze what’s going on around you before you start to jump in. Otherwise you’re gonna miss—” 

“Like that door opening?” Peter said, pointing. Steve raised his shield and looked to the roof access door to see a woman step through it backward. She turned and stopped when she saw them. In all honesty, it wasn’t hard to miss Captain America and Spiderman on an empty rooftop.

She blinked at them. She held two brown glass bottles in one hand, a book and bag of chips  in her arms, and her phone was lighting her shocked face. 

Steve lost most of the ‘choose-your-fighter’ stance, lowered his shield, and extended a hand to show they meant no harm. Peter was muttering under his breath and looking from the woman to Steve. 

“I didn’t see anything. I didn’t hear anything. And I don’t smell anything either,” she said, removing an earbud, “Imma sit right over there and enjoy the sunset.” She moved to a corner and set her things down. Steve noticed a wince as she stood straight and pulled a folding lawn chair from a crevice and set it up. 

“What do you mean you don’t smell anything?” Steve asked, finally finding his voice in this weird situation. 

She sat down slowly, wincing, twisted the cap off a bottle and took a swig before she grinned at him. He expected alcohol, but the scent of sassafras hit his nose instead.

“Here’s a tip, Spidey,” she said, looking at Peter, “a little cologne goes a long way.” She popped a chip in her mouth and swung one foot at a time on the chair to get comfortable. 

Steve looked to Peter who was...smelling his armpit? He hadn’t even realized he was wearing an overabundance of cologne; the kid spent so much time at the Compound anymore it was just—. Steve sighed. It was normal. Great. A supersoldier got so used to someone wearing so much fragrance he became nose-blind to it. But a civilian? Who just happened upon them one night? No problem. 

“Also, friendly tip: if you’re gonna keep your ‘secret identity’,” she said with a wide grin and exaggerated air-quotations,  “a continuing secret, wear a different cologne when you’re in the suit.” Steve grabbed Peter by the shoulder and pushed him toward the far side of the roof. 

“If you’ll excuse us, ma’am,” Steve said, nodding to her. She gave a two-fingered salute and an ‘aye-aye, Cap’n’ as the two moved their position. 

~~~~~

It was three days later when Steve was trying to take a walk through the town that he got an odd feeling he was being followed. He and Peter had taken care of the guys they were after: low-level crooks with high-level weapons. A very bad mixture in Steve’s mind.  

But now, he didn’t sense danger necessarily, he didn’t hear anything menacing, and it wasn’t like it was a flock of teenagers following him again. That he could hear a mile away over rush hour traffic. Plus, the beard and longer hair helped him blend a bit more.

He kept his stride and turned down an alley to take a couple shortcuts to see if his tag-a-long could keep up. Two minutes later, down this alley, back onto the main street, and down another alley, the feeling was still there. Turning once more, he backed up against the wall and waited. Once his follower got close enough to the corner, he snatched them, forcing them against the wall. 

This was something he didn’t expect. 

A gasp, the sound of boxes falling, paper crumpling, and a wry smile followed by: 

"Well, hello to you, too, handsome."

Her again.

"Why are you following me?" he said, moving his hands over her sides and down her thighs. Call him paranoid, but two years on the run will do that to you. 

"Gun and permit are on the waistband," she said, her hands halfheartedly raised. She spread her legs, just to see how far Captain America would go to pat down a woman carrying her groceries. 

Which he finally took notice of when he had to move a bag of green beans to lift her pant leg.  She bit back a groan when he brought his hands up to her sides again and around to her back. 

She had to admit, of all the pat downs she's had in her career, this had to be her favorite: Exceptionally attractive man? Check. Very smooth, deep voice? Check.  Warm, rough hands that weren't too rough while gliding down her thighs? Check and check.

Ever since the pardon, Steve Rogers remained a sort of enigma. He still went on missions, which she witnessed just the other night, but he had pulled so far back from the PR world that people were trying to figure out if Captain America was the same person.

Steve ran his hands along her back and found the gun on her waistband and— 

"You're a cop," he said, exasperated, holding up her badge. She let her hands fall, smirk still on her face. "Why are you following me?" 

"Well, I was out getting groceries, which you probably smashed the eggs, by the way, thanks for that—" she said, taking her offered badge back. 

"Why is an off-duty cop getting groceries following me in broad daylight?" Steve asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Because I really just wanted to stare at your ass—I'm being followed, you doofus,"she hissed at him. 

"What?" Steve was instantly on high alert, listening more closely to passersby on the main street and all around. He chanced a peek around the corner to see if anyone had followed her. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. "Why didn't you just call for back up?"

"Long story," she said looking around as well. She pulled back when she saw people round the corner, only to be caged in by tree-trunk arms from an annoyed Avenger. 

"I've got time."

"I don't," she said, staring at him incredulously. 

Steve Rogers was one cocky little shit. He had the nerve to lean on his forearms, prop one elbow on the wall to rest his head in his hand, and cross his legs at the ankle. His face and body just inches from her own. God, he smelled amazing.

Late June was hot. Late June plus very close proximity to a very stubborn, very attractive supersoldier? She may as well be on the surface of the sun. She took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled slowly to calm her heart rate. 

"Come out, come out, Queenie. We know you're there." 

The sing-song voice came just around the corner from where she and Steve were standing. 

Her heart rate didn't stand a chance of slowing down. 

Steve's brow furrowed, and he regained some of his earlier tension. He watched her eyes widen and flit back and forth. It almost looked like a plea for help, but her gaze hardened; she was planning something. Probably something stupid. 

He pulled his phone out and set up the camera. Taking a picture— albeit blurry, sue him—he held it up for her to see. There were ten men looking around every corner, behind every doorway. 

She ran a hand down her face. There had only been four when she last saw them. They were getting smarter. 

She opened her eyes when the temperature dropped. Steve had moved back and was looking around the alley, formulating his escape plan. She reached for her gun, but his hand caught her arm and he shook his head, putting a finger to his lips as the men called out for her once more. They were getting closer. 

He pulled her further down the alley, groceries forgotten, both of them trying to be as quiet as possible. He stopped when he reached the fire escape and cupped his hands, eyebrows raised asking: you ready?

Oh Lord, she had to put her hands on him?

If she wasn't looking at him, she never would've heard his whispered, "Hey!" She shook her head and put her foot in his hands and one hand on his shoulder. 

Is this what it feels like to fly? He lifted her like she was nothing and she barely had to pull herself onto the fire escape. Though the stitches in her side still pulled and she bit her lip to stop the hiss of pain. 

Steve backed up to the opposite wall and took a running jump. His foot barely touched the dumpster, and somehow he managed to not make a sound when he landed on the escape. 

He just smirked and shrugged when he saw her bewildered face. She rolled her eyes. 

The voices were louder now, triumphant: they found her groceries. She silently mourned her ice cream as she and her cohort climbed. 

The rig was old and even though Steve wasn't making a sound, the metal was. He grabbed her elbow five stories up, making her stop. He had his finger to his lips again, then pointed below them. 

"I know you're here somewhere, Queenie, I just wanna talk to ya," one man said, adjusting his cuff links. He was the best dressed of all of them but Steve could see the outline of a gun in his suit jacket. 

"C'mon, ya don't wanna play with me anymore?" he said, as his men were still searching below and further on.

This guy was starting to creep Steve out. He still had no idea what this woman had gotten herself into, but the saccharine tone of his voice made him sick. 

"I'm real sorry, I hurt ya, sweetheart. I promise, I won't do it again," he was finally moving on from the alley along with his posse. 

They stayed still for another moment while he was still in view at the mouth of the alley. He stood looking out at the main street with his hands in his pockets. 

Steve motioned for her to continue. They were one flight away from the roof when Back in Black started blaring from Steve's phone. 

He scrambled to turn it off, but when he pulled it out of his pocket with such panicked force, it slipped. Right out of his hands and down. Clanging on the rail and singing all the way down to shatter on the unforgiving concrete below. 

He heard her move up the last flight, while he just cringed staring down at the broken pieces. Tony was going to kill him.

Great.

 The suit had walked over to investigate. And he looked straight up at Steve. 

Great.

"Hey! Sorry 'bout that! Butterfingers, ya know?" he said, waving, "Can ya do me a favor and just toss it in the nearest can? The wife's gonna kill me if I don't finish dinner." 

The suit just stared at him, disgusted. He reached in his jacket and Steve prayed that his companion had made it to the roof. He brought a pack of cigarettes out and lit one, walking away from the broken pieces. 

"Hey, thanks, pal!" Steve said, turning and taking the last flight two stairs at a time. He hopped over the ledge and found her on her back, hands on her face in annoyance, and a red spot on her side. 

"Are you bleeding?!" he asked, rushing to her and landing on his knees. He scanned the rooftop and the adjacent buildings looking for a sniper. What kind of trouble was she in, anyway?

"Am I?" she moved her hands and sat up. Her breath hitched and she laid back down. "Ah, yup, stitches probably ripped."

"Can I?" he said, gesturing to her shirt. She waved a dismissive hand and he slowly pulled her shirt up. She was right: the stitches under her breast had ripped and what he could safely assume was a bullet wound, was bleeding again. 

"There goes the bra…" she muttered, rubbing her temple, "and it was a cute one too."

Steve shrugged a shoulder as he reached in his back pocket for a handkerchief. He glanced around at the nearby roofs once more before turning back to apply the cloth to the wound. She was staring at him. Smirking.

"Did you just...agree that my bra was cute?" she asked, her smirk turning into a grin, eyes crinkling at the corners.

His gaze dropped to her wound again, brow furrowed, as he put pressure on the wound. A low hiss escaped her, but it was quickly replaced by the same grin. 

"Hmm. The eyebrow quirk and head tilt said you did. Name's Y/N, by the way," she said, getting him to glance at her. His hair was falling in his face and she couldn't help but think it just made him look extra handsome. "Figured you should know mine since I already know yours."

"Thought it was 'Queenie'," he said, a small grin playing on his face. The grin fell when her gaze hardened. 

"He shouldn't know it," she shook her head and ran a hand down her face. Before Steve could question, she waved his hand away from her side. She tucked part of the cloth under her bra and sat up with the help of Steve's large hand on her back. 

Steve moved back to give her some room before he asked, "What do you mean he shouldn't know it?"

"I dressed up one Halloween as a character named 'Queenie' and now that's what my whole precinct calls me. No one else calls me Queenie," she said.

Steve listened as she explained that she had been assigned to this particular precinct. Apparently due to suspicion that one or many of its members had close mob ties. Now she had proof, but no clue who to look for. 

They sat in silence for a moment before Y/N squinted and pointed over Steve's shoulder. 

"Hey, isn't that your buddy Iron Man?" 

Sure enough, it was. Steve turned back to face Y/N and just raised a hand in a lazy wave and sighed like an exasperated teenager about to get scolded.

Y/N grimaced at the loud sound of the Iron Man's repulsors. He dropped down at the edge and walked over, his helmet disappearing to reveal his face. It was a very annoyed face. 

"So you're just gonna ignore me now?" he said, stopping next to Steve and crossing his arms. 

"Tony, this is Y/N. Y/N, Tony," Steve said, gesturing one to the other. 

"Yeah, hi," Tony waved in Y/N's direction, then turned to Steve again, then back to Y/N, "Are you aware—you're bleeding."

The drastic tone change made Y/N blink. He spun his around to her so fast she thought his neck broke. She looked to Steve who had a hand over his face, but she could see his brows knit together as he shook his head. His shoulders shook in a silent chuckle.

"Wow, it is true," Y/N said, looking at Tony, "You really are a genius." 

Between the baffled look on Tony's face and the strangled laugh-turned-cough from Steve, her day was a whole lot better.

"Yes, we're both aware I'm bleeding. Captain Handsome over here was helping me avoid some trouble. This is a few days old, the stitches just ripped," she explained. Tony just quirked an eyebrow and a wide grin spread on his face.

"'Captain Handsome'? Oh that's definitely gonna be a thing, now," Steve's groan of disapproval cut through, but Tony paid him no mind, "Anyway, we need to get you patched up, and you were supposed to help set up-"

"Wanda's birthday, ah, shit!" was muffled as he ran both hands over his face and back into his hair. Y/N blinked.

"Captain America swears?" she said, looking at Tony who just shook his head in blatant disappointment. 

"Like a sailor. Romanoff's bringing the car around, so grab our invalid and bring her to the Compound. Romanoff, can you bring the car around?" Tony said, walking to the edge of the roof. Y/N tried to deny being taken with them, but Tony closed his helmet and blasted off. 

She looked to Steve who stood and held out a hand to help her up. Reluctantly (or not, he had very nice hands) she took it.

"Seriously, just drop me off at my apartment and I'll be fine. You've already helped enough," she said. 

Steve just shook his head and started leading her towards the roof access. "Not happening. I was already thinking about it, anyway.  Dr. Cho should have you patched up in no time."

Y/N groaned. How was she supposed to fight Avengers exactly?

~~~~~

Dr. Helen Cho has very kind eyes. But when she says 'go', even Steve Rogers moves. Y/N was introduced to her and then immediately directed (read forced) onto a table after her shirt and bra were (forcibly) removed and replaced with a hospital gown so fast the embarrassment didn't hit her until after Dr. Cho's machine was stitching her up. 

Or whatever it did. 

Y/N looked at her wound in the bathroom mirror. There was no scar, no trace of the bullet hole or the stitches. Still amazed at the technology, she lowered the borrowed hoodie and made her way back into the lab. Black Widow, or Natasha, was waiting with a small smile.

"I really want to thank you guys for everything, and I don't want to sound ungrateful, because I am! But I should probably be getting home…" 

Her smile tightened and her nose scrunched. "Mm, about that."

Y/N blinked. "Please tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means." 

Her smile twisted up a little more before she grabbed Y/N's hand and began pulling her back to where Y/N thought was the living room. 

This week was just getting weirder and weirder by the second. Natasha pulled her by the hand the whole way and Y/N made no move to let go either; it was oddly comforting, and Y/N didn't even realize she needed it. She briefly wondered what it would be like to hold Steve's hand. 

She immediately grabbed that thought, stuffed it in a box, put that box in another box, duct taped the whole thing, and buried it. 

Crushes on celebrities were fine. If you've met them, cool, good for you. If you've been as close as Y/N had, you should be commended and given 'The World's Luckiest Bitch' medal. 

But she didn't want to get her hopes up. Chances are they'd just be crushed. Probably under a star-spangled shield or something much more terrifying. Nope, she may as well crush those feelings now before they got out of hand. 

Natasha took her down several halls to see a lounge room where several were gathered watching what seemed to be Lord of the Rings. Y/N didn’t recognize any of them, but judging by all the lab coats strewn all over the chairs and various snacks, they were probably just on a break. 

A couple turns and an elevator ride up a few floors, Natasha's hand still holding hers, and down more hallways Natasha finally stopped and opened the door to a conference room.

Y/N was completely lost as to where they were in the building, but she wouldn't really need to know. She'd be going home soon anyway.

"Is that my apartment?!" 

Steve, Tony, and Bucky Barnes turned at the sound of her voice, but her eyes were locked on the screen behind them. 

Most of it was nonsensical gibberish to her, but the main picture was her apartment building. On fire. Specifically her apartment. And the one next to it, too, where she knew the couple next door. They had just had a baby.

"Tell me no one was in there," she whispered, her voice starting to shake, "Tell me no one was home, Steve, they had a baby. You tell me no one was home!"

She had moved around the table, volume rising with every step. Steve put his hands on her shoulders when she grabbed him by the shirt. 

"Mom and baby are fine, they weren't home," he said, voice quiet and calm, "Dad's in the hospital with a few broken bones and scrapes, but he'll be fine, Y/N."

Steve thought he would get lost in her eyes earlier, now it felt like she stared into his soul. She took a shaky breath in and out, closed her eyes, and breathed again. It was when she was finally able to release his shirt that Tony spoke.

"Looks like you didn’t make it out, though," he said, turning the volume up. She turned to him and saw some blonde news reporter stating that one person had been killed in the explosion ("Ex- explosion?" was whispered as Steve helped her to a chair and sat her down.) 

Her own face stared back at her. Her name was on the news. 

Blood rushed in her ears and drowned out whatever was being said, whether on tv or in the room. Mind racing, she tried to figure out what her next step should be: who does she call? Does she call anyone? Can she? Not knowing which of her supposed brothers and sisters she could trust. The proverbial brakes came screeching to halt when she heard—

“Hydra?”

Natasha had joined Bucky in looking at a file on the table and Tony was sitting on its edge; they all turned to look at her. When she stayed silent, Steve moved from behind her chair and leaned his hip against the table. He said her name, snapping her attention back to reality. 

“Did you say Hydra?” she asked. Bucky nodded. “No, no, no. We’re talkin’ Clair Vitali, yeah, he’s no small fry, but he’s not Hydra. That’s crazy! Sure he’s a megalomaniac, but he’s not that smart. He shot me in broad daylight and had the balls to follow me in broad daylight, but then again, he had the balls to follow me in broad daylight and he does have some pull up on high. I wonder if that’s how he got Roca’s territory…” 

Steve thought she was going to burn a hole into the table with how she stared at it. Bucky chuckled and looked at Steve.

“She talked herself into it,” he grinned, “Didn’t even have to show her evidence. But it does look like the explosives they used were from Hydra. Not just with your house, but multiple others.” Y/N looked up as the screen changed to show five other bombings. Ones she didn’t even know were connected to Vitali. “And I remember seeing him around Rumlow a lot.” 

Rumlow.

Something about that name rang a bell. A gruff laugh, dark hair, an easy smile, and honey colored eyes filled her mind. 

"Brock Rumlow?"she asked. They all nodded. She grimaced and muttered, “Glad I didn’t go on that date with him, then. Oh-kay! So. Now what? Hydra is way out of my league. How do we handle this?” 

Bucky’s eyebrows shot almost to his hairline and Steve let out a strangled “Date?!” as Tony just turned back to the screen and started talking to the air. To her surprise the air spoke back. Oh, yeah. He’s Tony Stark. AI’s are a thing here. 

She heard Natasha’s chuckle and chanced a glance at Bucky, his expression was locked on Steve who she did not glance at. She was far too invested on the screen; her eyes locked on a familiar face, she stood slowly. Steve said her name and she blinked. 

“Bottom right,” she said, pointing, “That’s Charlie and, Houser, our captain.” 

Tony brought it up front and center showing the captain standing straight, and her partner behind him, hands clasped and shoulders slumped. He looked truly dejected. Angry. He kept his eyes low while the captain gave his statement on her supposed murder. No, he didn’t say murder. He said death. Death. Like an accident. Like her home spontaneously combusted. Like she wasn’t hunted like a wild animal, beaten, shot, and thrown into the river. The blood in her veins boiled watching him give his speech. 

“This is a day of grieving for us all. This is such a tragic loss for this precinct, for this city. Officer L/N was a treasure; a hardworking—”

“That’s detective, you monumental bastard,” she spat. Tony turned with a raised brow and a smirk. “We don’t really get along.”

“—shows no sign of tampering, but we will dig further to get to the truth of this atrocity—” 

She wondered who gave him this false information and thought about what she was going to do to them. If the police had been in her apartment, they should know whether or not it had been a bomb or some sort of malfunction. 

And then her fire was extinguished. 

He sniffed. 

She watched as Charlie’s brow furrowed and for the first time he looked up at the captain. His hands clenched into fists before he moved them behind his back. The captain continued his speech, sniffing again. 

“That sorry, low-down, pig-headed—” she shoved the chair and stepped away from the table, taking deep breaths, almost panting. 

“Hey, easy,” came from Steve who put a hand on her shoulder, “What’s wrong?” She took another breath and held it for a beat, then two, sure he could feel her pulse racing. Her fists clenching and releasing, she let the breath go, slowly, controlled, before she turned to him. 

“He’s in on it. He’s the connection to Vitali. That sniff?” she pointed back to the screen, “That’s his tell. The man can’t play poker to save his life! And that bullshit story about me being, what’d he say? ‘A treasure?’ Ha!” She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, trying not to think about how Steve seemed to be subconsciously rubbing his thumb in small circles on her shoulder. Taking another deep breath, she looked up at him once more. 

“And now that I know who the connection is, I have a good idea about who else is on Vitali’s payroll.”

~~~~~

Hello, Queenie. 

You wanna play?

Her eyes snapped open and her heart hammered in her chest. She sat up, gun raised, and looked around the room. This wasn’t her house. This wasn’t her house. 

Breathing became harder for her and her hand started shaking. But when the faint smell of a musky cologne reached her nose, she remembered blue eyes staring into her own. Her next breath was shaky, but she put the gun beside her on the bed. She’ll have to thank Natasha for giving her one of Steve’s shirts. 

Throwing back the covers, she swung her legs off the bed and made sure her legs weren’t wobbly before standing and walking out of the room. Ice cream was much needed. Now. 

Where the hell was the kitchen?

She tried to get a map in her mind, but, instead of directing her to her destination, it throbbed and refused to do any work. Forcing her feet to walk ten steps to her left, she faced her next obstacle. Waking the beast. 

She knocked three times. Silence. Three times more. 

“Fuckin— hang on!” 

Captain America swears like a sailor. She couldn’t stop the grin creeping on her face. Judging by the thudding and even more swearing, he was having some difficulty. Thirty seconds later the door disappeared and she flinched, stepping back.

Steve Rogers sleeps nude. 

In her peripheral, she could just barely see that he was holding a sheet around his waist. She didn’t dare to actually look, but tilted her head to see his face instead.

This was possibly the best decision she’d ever made. 

Steve Rogers with bed head. ‘World’s Luckiest Bitch’ indeed. 

She pursed her lips to keep the giggles from escaping. Sleepy, grumpy Steve was so cute. As she committed it to her long-term memory, he rubbed his face and let out a muted ‘shit’. 

“I thought you were gonna be Bucky,” he said, leaning on the doorframe. “What’s up? You okay?”

Oh, Lord, his voice. Abort mission. Abort. 

“I— uh, was gonna get some ice cream, but um, I’ll— I’ll just let you get back to sleep,” she said. Her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling too much. Gesturing to his attire, she couldn’t help but giggle, “Obviously you’re waiting for Bucky, so…” 

Confused even more by her laughter, the dolt looked down at himself, let out a louder ‘Fuck!’ and slammed the door shut. Steve continued his stream of obscenities as they both realized his sheet had gotten shut in the door. A short burst of laughter rang in the hall before she clapped both hands over her mouth. 

“Shut the fuck up, Queenie.”

Removing her hands and breathing, she took a moment to actually appreciate him. He now had on dark jeans and an unzipped jacket baring his broad chest to the world. He was really trying to kill her. And she would let him. 

But when he ran a hand through his hair, she was done. 

Giggle-drunk and trying not to be a thirsty hoe, she started towards the kitchen. Until Steve called to her again. When she turned, he was sporting that ridiculous smirk and pointing in the opposite direction. She threw her hands in the air, the shirt raising just enough to draw Steve’s eyes down to her bare legs. 

“Come on, Rogers, why are you keeping me from my ice cream? You owe like two gallons anyway,” she said, grabbing him the jacket and pulling him along. 

They finally made it to their destination after he had to grab her by the shirt and redirect her twice; he damn near strutted to the freezer and began naming off the flavors they had stashed away. 

“Seriously?” she asked, looking at his choice of butter pecan in disgust. 

“I already told you once, Queens, shut the fuck up,” he said, jabbing a finger in her direction. Ignoring the swarm of butterflies and heat rising in her face, she waved a dismissive hand and let loose an ‘aha!’ when she found the bowls. She frowned and stood on her toes because seriously, who puts the bowls on the top shelf? Fine.  

She did what needed to be done. She climbed onto the counter. Just being on her knees gave her the necessary boost to reach her goal. A shiver ran through her when a deep chuckle came from behind her. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Steve asked, leaning against the island. 

“Immensely,” she said, smirking, “Is the counter the only thing holding you up right now?” 

“At the moment, yes.” 

She giggled and handed him two bowls and hopped down, ready to devour the sweet, cold, goodness that was ice cream. 

Somehow this was right. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she felt...safe. Sitting in nothing but a borrowed shirt and her underwear with a barely-dressed supersoldier eating ice cream at God-only-knows-what time in the morning.  

“What is my life coming to?”

Steve looked up at her. They sat at the table, and for a long time were swapping funny stories about their teams. Her mind swirled with the new facts she’d learned just a few hours before, and even though she knew that the people she’d worked with for two years were not all they appeared, it still hurt. 

“Thanks, Steve. For everything.”

As if she needed another reason to swoon over this beast of a man, he looked at her with such sincerity and gave a crooked smile. She swallowed. 

“Anytime.”

Well that just won’t do. 

“Even at 3 o’clock in the morning?”

“Now wait a damn minute—”

~~~~~

With the Avengers on the case, it only took a day to gather enough information on her captain and several others that were in league with Vitali and Hydra. 

Now their plan was going into action. 

Despite her nerves about walking back into this building, she stood strong. Not to mention she had back up this time. 

Clair Vitali owned several hotels in New York. His reach spread much further than other mob families, and one by one, he seemed to swallow them up. She had very little knowledge of the layout of this building, but again, with the Avengers, impossible was simply not in their vocabulary. 

She and Steve were parked across the street in one of Tony’s mustangs. When she told him what hotel he usually frequented, he agreed that using a more high-profile car would be acceptable. 

“You sure about this, Y/N?” Steve asked. His gaze shifted from the hotel doors to her in the passenger seat. 

“A smidge,” she looked at him, “I just want this over with.” 

Steve nodded and looked back to the hotel. Vitali was here. She took a deep breath and got out of the car, but leaned back down to the window. 

“Besides, after being in a car with you driving, this’ll be a cake-walk,” she said, grinning. Steve opened his mouth to defend his driving skills when Bucky’s voice cut through their earpieces. 

“Punk, you wreck every vehicle you go into a fight with. Don’t start.” 

Four other voices agreed with him. Tony was going into his threat about Steve wrecking this car as Y/N started to cross the street. 

Blood pounding in her ears, she threw open the door and walked up to the front desk. The young man politely asked how he could be of service, despite his look of distaste at her attire. She flashed him a smile. 

“Actually, I was hoping to speak with Mr. Vitali,” she said. The look on this poor kid’s face almost made her laugh. He started to sputter and say that her request wouldn’t be possible; he was in a very important meeting and she might be able to schedule something in the future. She hummed and shook her head. 

“Unfortunately, it has to be now. I’m sure he’s missed me the past couple days and I just can’t leave him waiting any longer, sir.”

“Miss, I’m very sorry, but he doesn’t want to be disturbed—”

She sighed. 

“Alright. I didn’t want to play this card, but…” she laid her badge on the counter, pushing it towards the man. Whether or not he knew what his boss was really into, the color drained from his face. 

“You tell him Queenie’s here to play.” 

As he made a frantic phone call, she hopped up on the counter and sat, swinging her legs, making a call of her own. The voice that answered was hesitant. 

“...Y/N?” 

She smiled. 

“Hey, Chuckles. Listen, you’re gonna get a call about the Foundry Hotel in a few minutes. Bring back up. Don’t be surprised.”

“On it.”

She put her phone back in her pocket and waited. It didn’t take three minutes before grunts with guns surrounded the desk. Some actual patrons screamed and started to scatter, fleeing the building. Clair came swooping in and stood, behind his troops, grinning from ear to ear.

“I knew you’d come back to me, Queenie,” he said, “I was really hoping we’d have this little reunion at your funeral, but we can make this work—”

“Cut the bullshit, Clair, where’s Houser? I know he’s here.” She looked around the vast entry hall and into the restaurant where more people were huddled, being contained by more of the brute squad. “It’d be a cryin’ shame to kill me off and not celebrate your victory!” 

“You’re looking pretty good, sugar, you get all healed up?” Clair asked, chuckling. She nodded, still swinging her legs as if it was just another day at the park.

“I did. I found friends in high places. But you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” she asked, jumping down. Some of the men shifted. “Being in league with Hydra and all.” 

Something glinted in his eye. She had him. 

Everything after that happened fast: bullets flew, glass shattered, people screamed.

The next thing she knew her ears were ringing. Everything was too bright, too loud. Too blurry. She couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t breathe. The only thing she saw clearly were piercing blue eyes. A voice cut through the fog. 

Queens! C’mon, just say something! 

~~~~~

 Wanda and Vision were due to be home from their island getaway in just a few minutes and everyone was running rampant around the living room. Streamers were hung from all over. A giant cake was being shielded by Bucky from Clint’s wandering hands. 

And some idiot put Steve Rogers on a ladder to hang the banner. 

“Hey, Queens, can ya tell me if it’s straight?” 

She walked away from the ladder and next to Tony to get a better view. And, boy, did she. Steve’s ass looked great in jeans. She hummed appreciatively. 

“Looks, great, Stevie. Now please get down, my blood pressure’s out the roof,” she said. She turned to Tony. “Don’t you have, like, robots or something to do this?” 

“I do, but this is payback for not helping sooner,” Tony said, sipping a lemonade. She nodded. 

“Really, Tony?” Steve started, “I told you, I dropped my phone! I was not ignoring you!” 

The two started to throw snark between them and Y/N just rolled her eyes. Steve tried to stop on the ladder and turn to look at Tony. He missed about two steps and got his leg caught between rungs. 

To say the look of horror on his face wasn’t funny would be an outright lie. 

The crashing and clanging drew everyone’s attention. Others asked if everything was okay and what happened. The two closest ran over and moved the ladder off  Steve. 

“Stevie,” Y/N said, lightly tapping his face, “hey, say something so we know you’re okay!” 

Steve just groaned and cracked an eye open to look at her. 

“Ow.”

Bucky called out, “Eh, he’s fine.”

Tony just laughed and walked away. An exasperated sigh made her slump onto his chest. He chuckled and leaned up to press a kiss on her hair. She raised her head. 

“I think I’ve got a new nickname for you,” she said. His smirk just grew. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Captain Klutz.”

[lazyangeltreemoney]

The Sweetest Baker in Brooklyn 3/???

Description: Bucky Barnes is one of the most feared mobsters in all of NYC, however he finds himself falling for the sweetest Baker in Brooklyn who has her own secrets and troubled past.

Word Count: 3330

Pairing(s): Mob! Bucky x Parent!Reader

Warnings: violence, organised crime, alcoholism, abuse, angst, mentions of rape

A/N: there’s a lot in this chapter, nothing too graphic but warning there is a fair bit of violence in this one. Sorry this part took so long to finally be posted. 

Cautiously he pulled the phone out of his pocket 

“Hello?” 

“Hewwo Mister Bucky Sir, I think my Mom needs your help.” 

An hour earlier 

Y/N held onto Benny’s hand as she walked into the house trying to mentally prepare herself for what was to come. Benny wasn’t clueless, he might have been a kid but not clueless. Benny had always been a perspective child which often got him into trouble, being able to see and work out things he shouldn’t. With that Benny could hardly remember the last time he saw his Father. He had also worked out that his mother probably kept him away from his Father for some reason. 

Y/N walked into the house with her biggest fake smile on. Benny noted how it was the same one she used with annoying customers she would silently pray to leave with in the next second. 

“Benny you had an amazing day at school by the sounds of things.” Y/N called into the house taking off her coat and apron. 

Benny went to do the same when suddenly, 

“Y/N get in here with that imbecile.” Brock called back from the kitchen. 

His voice wasn’t the usual mumbling and slurring from when he was drunk, no this was so much worse. Brock sounded stone cold sober and pissed off. 

“Benny get upstairs, Now!” Y/N ordered. 

Benny did as he was told. He waited upstairs for it to start, he knew the routine. His Mom and Dad would argue, there would be yelling maybe the sound of something being thrown or smashed. It could last hours and at the end of it chances are his Mom would be crying. 

So Benny grabbed one of his teddies and a book to try and block out the sound. The yelling started he heard words like ‘Whore’ and ‘Slut’. He tried to focus on his book some more but the sounds just got louder until 

WHACK

It was followed by the sound of his mother screaming. Benny couldn’t help himself any longer, he needed to help his Mom. Grabbing his teddy he ran downstairs. He peered his head and threw the bannister to see a sight no child should have to see.  

On the kitchen table there were photos of Y/N and Benny with the nice man, Bucky. His Father looked furious, calling her a traitor and Benny a bastard. His mother was trying to shield herself from the punches. The scene made Benny feel sick to his stomach. He wasn’t stupid, Benny knew this wasn’t like the school bullies. Feeling helpless was like being sucked into a black hole to the small child.

However there was a saving grace, looking to the coat rack at the bottom of the stairs Benny grabbed the name card out of his mother apron and ran back upstairs to his parents room. He grabbed the phone and hid under the bed. Using his little hands he failed the number and put one finger in his ear to block out the sounds from downstairs.

Ring, Ring, Ring

“Hello.” 

Back at Steve’s House.

“Benny! Benny what’s wrong?” 

“It’s my Dad, he’s hurting my Mom really badly and I can’t get him to stop.” Benny pleaded down the phone. 

In the background of the phone call he could hear Y/N screaming. His blood was boiling, fuck whatever Y/N’s past was she didn’t deserve this. 

“Benny just stay where you are, I’m on my way.” Bucky ordered and hung up the phone. 

Bucky went to walk out the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“Her house is outside my territory, if it goes sideways I can’t protect you.” Steve warned him with a deep tone in his voice. 

“A kid just cried down the phone to me asking for my help to stop his piece of shit Father hitting his Mom and you’re trying to get me to walk away… You’ve changed Rogers.” Bucky retorted, storming out of the mansion. 

He ran to his car and ordered Sam to give him his fucking gun back. 

“What’s wrong man?” Sam came running handing Bucky his gun.

“Y/N’s in trouble, so is Benny.” Bucky seethed. 

“Shit.” Sam sighed and hopped into the car. 

He wasn’t going to let his best friend go into something like this alone. The car journey there was silent. Bucky was silently cursing that his car won’t go any faster. Sam was trying to get his head around Y/N being the daughter of Pierce and that pig Rumlow being her husband. The stories he’d heard about Rumlow, the man who would do anything for a price. It took knowing Y/N for all of two minutes for Sam to know the marriage must have been nothing more than tatic. 

They finally reached the house. The second they got out they heard the screams, it was a surprise that no one had called the cops. Bucky and Sam both instantly took their guns out and readied themselves. 

“I’ll get the kid, you get Y/N.” Sam ordered. 

The two ran into the house, knocking down the door. Y/N was on the floor, she looked bloodied and bruised. She was whimpering, begging Brock to stop. 

“Oh I’m nowhere near finished with you-” He was cut short from the sound of bullet going into his knee. 

“ARGH!” Brock fell to the floor in agony, screaming. 

Y/N looked up to see Bucky had fired the bullet. He had a dark look in his eyes, something Y/N had only seen a few times before in her life. The glassy eye star of a man who had to restrain himself from shooting to kill. Without a moment passing by Y/N pulled herself and ran toward Bucky. Brock called out for her, calling her a bitch and whore. He could call her anything he liked from now on Y/N told herself she would never have power over her again. Sam had gone upstairs to grab Benny. That left just the three of them left in the room. Bucky seemed to soften a little when Y/N was in her arms. Brock’s calls are almost forgotten about… almost. 

“Oh I see, run into his arms slut, how long do you think he’ll keep me away from my wife and child.” Brock seethed out from the pain. 

That was it. Silently Y/N grabbed the gun from Bucky and marched over to Brock. For the first time in her life she saw fear in Brock’s eyes and it made her smile. Bucky thought the worst,

“Y/N think about this for a second, Benny is just upstairs you don’t want him seeing-” 

BANG

He was cut off by the sound of the bullet being shot into Brocks other knee. 

“I am not your wife anymore and Benny sure as hell is no longer your son, we are going to leave this house and one way or another you will never see us again…understand?” Y/N clicked the safety off the gun and pointed it at Brock’s head. 

Brock defeatily nodded and with that Y/N walked out of the house. Benny quickly followed behind about jumped up into Y/N’s arms. The two held each other tightly as a sense of freedom washing over both of them. A few tears escaped Y/N’s eyes, finally she could have the life she wanted. All four of them went into the car and Bucky drove as carefully as he could so Benny would drift asleep. All the adrenaline leaving his body and suddenly leaving him exhausted. Bucky fiddled with the dials on the radio to help Benny sleep. His head was on Y/N’s lap, Sam kept glancing at the two in the back. Especially Y/N’s face, the bruises were already a deep dark purple and the scabs along her face, it was a hard sight to see. 

“Take her back to Steve’s she needs to see the Doc.” Sam said to Bucky. 

As pissed as Bucky still was with Steve, Sam was right. Also just incase Brock was going to pull some shit, Steve’s house was the safest place. To be honest he didn’t think Brock was going to pull anything within the next century after what Y/N did. It was clear that she had suffered abuse for how many years, silently taking its toll but despite all that, no one, no one messed with her son. 

Y/N herself felt in a haze, she mindlessly played with her sons hair to bring some peace in her mind. Yes, Brock was now in the past but what now? Bucky had come to save her but was he expecting something in return. Her opinion on most men was that they never did anything out of the good of their own heart, especially ones from the mob. Then there was Benny, she brought in just enough money from the bakery but could she even go back there, was it safe. Her mind was spiralling again when suddenly

“Doll, we’re here.” Bucky spoke softly to her. 

She looked out the car window to the most lavish mansion, it was practically a castle. Almost straight out of a story book. All it was missing was a tower with a lonely princess and a dragon. Y/N carried Benny, who was still fast asleep, Bucky placed a hand around the shoulder and then suddenly all the worry she had before seemed to wash away. It was the look in Bucky’s eyes that said ‘There’s no need to be scared from now on.’ 

The four of them all walked in, a blonde man stood in the entrance hall with a red head next to him. He looked stern and the red head… well she seemed to give nothing away. 

“Glad to see you alive, now tell me, is this going to come and bite me on the ass?” The blonde man arched a brow at Bucky. 

“Brock Rumlow won't be a problem however I suggest you call the Doc.” Bucky answered. 

Just as he did Benny began to stir and wake. 

Steve watched quietly as the child stirred and looked around the hallway. It looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his head. 

“Momma are we in a castle?” Benny yawned. 

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle at the little one. Benny grabbed onto his mother a little tighter when he noticed Steve and Natasha. Steve then studied the two a little closer, Benny seemed fine but Y/N, she looked like she had been through hell, it reminded Steve of his Mom… 

“Nat call Banner down here.” Steve ordered. 

Natasha nodded and headed further into the house. Just as she left Sam offered to take Benny to bed. Y/N went to argue saying how she doesn’t want Benny alone. 

“He’s not alone, he’s with the best bodyguard he could ever ask for.” Sam joked taking Benny out of her arms. 

Y/N watched him go, blowing him a small kiss. Clumsily the kid caught it just before he disappeared upstairs. That just left the three of them in a somewhat awkward silence. Mainly it was the hard stare Bucky was giving Steve that made Y/N uncomfortable. It was clear that something had happened between the two of them but it wasn’t Y/N’s place to pry. 

Then a saving grace appeared coming down the hall. 

“I believe I have a patient, what’s Clint done this time?” The man joked approaching the trio. 

He then saw Y/N’s face and his cheery attitude dropped. The man sighed and softly smiled at Y/N. 

“I take it you’re the patient, right this way Miss.” He pointed to a side door next to the corridor. 

Y/N followed, limping a little as she did. Bucky’s heart dropped a little when he noticed she’d properly been hiding it from the adrenaline. He went to follow her into the side room when Steve called him back. He debated not listening to him, disobeying him and following his heart to Y/N but he had toed the line enough tonight. Banner was more of a gentleman than any of them, he could be trusted with Y/N. 

“What is it Boss?” Bucky grimaced. 

Steve sighed and walked over to his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“You were right, I was being an ass.” Steve admitted, hanging his head. 

Bucky was stunned, only a total of 5 times had Steve ever admitted he was in the wrong. A small laugh escaped him as he processed it. 

“What made you realise that?” 

“Y/N’s face, it reminded me of Mom.” Steve said solemnly. 

Bucky sighed, he remembered the bruises on Sarah’s face and how Steve would come running to him saying how he didn’t know what to do. How when they were barely strong enough they stood up to Steve’s Dad, he remembered Steve pulling the trigger. Long story short, Sarah had lived in a fancy Suburban house with chickens to look after until she passed 2 years ago. 

“Listen, Rumlow won’t be a problem.” Bucky tried to reassure Steve. 

“Is he dead?” Steve asked. 

“No but Y/N shot him in the kneecap and then held the gun to his head threatening to kill him if she ever saw him again, never seen a fucker so scared in my life.” Bucky explained to Steve with a hint of pride in his voice. 

“Your girl did that, wow.” Steve whistled at the thought of it. 

“She’s not my girl.” Yet

“Sure Punk, go see how she’s getting on with Banner then I suggest you all stay here tonight just in case.” Steve said walking away before Bucky could argue. 

Bucky simply shook his head in annoyance and headed to Y/N and Banner. Banner was the on sight Doctor, being in his line of work meant there was a chance of things always ending up with a bullet being somewhere it shouldn’t. Banner had always been a kind man but god help the poor soul who pissed him off. 

Bucky walked into the room, Y/N was sat on the hospital style bed and Banner was sat on the seat next to her making some notes. Y/N now had a gauze of her cheek and a plaster over a scrape on her forehead. Most of the blood had been cleaned away from her arms and face. Her clothes still looked bloody, have to sort that later. 

Y/N’s head turned to Bucky as he walked in the room and a soft smile formed on her face. 

“Ah Barnes, I was just explaining to Y/N here that the swelling should go down with the next few days, for now she can take two of these after some food for the pain.” Banner explained. 

Y/N noted how even his voice was soft, he didn’t look like your typical rough and ready criminal. Maybe she would pick his brains about how he got involved with this another time. Right now she just wanted her son and some sleep. Bucky told her how she would be sleeping here tonight. He had to guide her through the house, she figured that she would have to ask for a map another time. He led her up some stairs and down a corridor until they reached a room. 

Y/N walked it, it was surprisingly homely. Tan carpet along with mustard silk curtains. The big was nearly as big as her whole room back at the house… The house, shit! All of her stuff was still there and she sure as hell couldn’t go back there. 

“Fuck.” She sighed. 

“What is it, Doll?” there was more worry in Bucky’s voice than he was happy to admit. 

“Am I an idiot if I only just now realise that everything I own except for the clothes on my back is still at that house?” She sighed lying on the bed.

As she did she saw the mirror staring back at her.

“ha and even these clothes are bloody and ruined.” She groaned putting her hands in her head. 

Bucky walked over to her and carefully held her hands. Part of him wanted to scold himself for how much he enjoyed holding them. 

“Doll you did the right thing leaving then and there, on top of that you haven’t got to worry about nicknacks you left there, I promise you that here you’re every need will be taken care of.” Bucky spoke softly to her. 

“Yes but how long can I stay here?” There was no hope in her voice. 

“As long as you need.” Bucky reassured her. 

Y/N looked up into Bucky’s eyes. Every word he spoke was so sincere when he talked to her. It was having a constant star in a storm… and yet she still had to ask,

“Why would you do all of this for me?” 

At that moment Bucky couldn’t put it into words, so he decided not to. Instead he leaned forward and caught her lips. He was gentle and held the none bandaged side of her face. After the first few seconds of shock went away Y/N slowly kissed back. It felt so perfect, Y/N had never been kissed like that in her life. It was nothing like the kisses from Brock, they were hard and rough and almost painful. This, this was sweet and soft and caring. When they finally parted Y/N was almost breathless. Bucky couldn’t help but smirk a little at that. Y/N was still gathering her thoughts when nonchalant Bucky got up and walked to the drawer. He pulled out a large t-shirt and handed it to Y/N before walking out of the room. 

It took Y/N a few moments to even realise he’d left. Taking a breath she took off the bloody dress and undergarments and replaced it with the t-shirt. Assuming Bucky had left her alone for the night she began to explore the room. The bed had about a thousand pillows on it and all the ornaments seemed to be made from solid oak. Even when lying on the mattress it felt as if she was sleeping on air. Letting out a content sigh she was about to go to sleep when there was a knock at the door. 

“Hello?” Y/N called out cautiously. 

“It’s me Doll, you dressed?” It was Bucky. 

Y/N let out a small sigh of relief and opened the door to see him in his pajamas. Okay now she was confused. She must have clearly shown it on her face. 

“Doll this is my room, why do you think my shirts are in here?” Bucky explained heading to the bed. 

“Oh, right… well let’s head to bed then.” Y/N mumbled trying to hide her worry. 

However it didn’t get past Bucky. 

“Doll what is it?” Bucky’s caring tone was nearly enough to break down all her walls, but

“Just stay on your side of the bed.” She muttered getting into the covers. 

“Doll.” Bucky sighed, he clearly wasn’t going to let it drop. 

“Fine, the last time I shared a bed with a man was when Benny was conceived and at the time I didn’t particularly want to… you know.” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. 

Instead she rolled herself so as not to face Bucky.

“Just stay on your side of the bed, please.” Her voice seemed so weak. 

With that Bucky got out of the bed. 

“Where are you going?” Y/N asked. 

“From now on your body is your own, nobody can do anything to it without your permission, Y/N.” Bucky spoke to her. 

With that he bid her goodnight. As he left Y/N closed her eyes and for the first time in a long time drifted away to sleep happily. 

[mysterioh]

The Ignorant Beauty and The Beast of New York - Ch. 11

PAIRING: MOB!STEVE ROGERS X READER

Synopsis: Y/N is an exhausted bio major. Steve is danger with a capital DANGER. She thinks he’s a sarcastic prick with an impressive knowledge in art history. He thinks she’s cute even if she’s only running on one brain cell. All he wants is a single date, but she’s adamant upon denying.

Masterlist

A/N: just a short filler chap.

Like Peanut Butter and Jelly

"So you're a mobster now?" Quentin interrogated like a cop. A very judgemental and somewhat betrayed cop.

You look up from your book. "No, where did you get something stupid like that from?"

"You just said you're friends with that jerk!" He spat for the whole library to hear.

"Would you stop shouting we're in a library," you hissed.

"He's a fucking criminal," Quentin jeered.

"Listen he isn't so bad," you explained. You weren't defending him. You were just being honest. "He's kinda nice. He beat the crap out of this guy for me."

"Now you're making him kill for you?" He asked incredulously,  "God, what's wrong with you?"

You rolled your eyes in aggravation. "I'm not doing anything like that!" You snapped.  "He just so happened to be at work and helped me."

"Uh-huh, yeah," the brunette scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and slumping in his chair. "Ever thought he might've put that guy there to do that to you?"

"What are you talking about?" you squinted at him, leaning towards him and against the table, slightly peeved by his attitude.

"What if it was all planned?" Quentin suggested. "What if he did it so he could make you like him?"

You shook your head in denial. "He wouldn't do something like that. He's not that kinda guy." Okay, why am I sticking up for this guy?

"Oh and you know a lot about him for some reason," he taunted whilst shaking his hands back and forth.

You grumbled audibly, slamming your book shut. "If you're gonna be an asshole Quentin, I'll just leave."

His hands drop and so do his shoulders. The curve of his lips runs crooked and you can tell he feels sorry. It wasn't so hard to read him. He knew you inside and out, and you knew him outside and in.

"Sorry, I'm not trying to be," he sighed regretfully. "I'm just worried about you. This guy's bad news, Y/N," he warned.

"He's in the damn mob. Hell, he is the mob. He runs the entire New York crime syndicate for crying out loud!" He shakes his arms animatedly. "Extortion, racketeering, drugs, all the worst things you could possibly imagine probably has something to do with him," he drops his arms and you could see he's doesn't like any of this. "I just don't want you to get stuck in that kinda life."

You blush a tiny bit and sit back in your seat. You twirled a piece of hair around your finger, trying to avoid his eyes by looking at your book. "But he's never really talked to me about the mob stuff. Sometimes I think he doesn't even remember he's in the mob."

"That could be for now. You don't know the future. What if he does a total 180 when he's got you in real deep?" He asked.

"It's not like that." You replied. "We're just friends."

"Just friends?"

"Just friends," you stated firmly. "Besides weren't you the one who told me to make friends? To get out of my comfort zone?"

"Yeah, but I didn't tell you to get all smoochy-smoochy with a criminal," he counters.

"It was nothing like that!" you defended yourself. "You're such a jerk!" You crossed your arms and looked away with a pout.

He chuckled, finding your reaction really cute. "You sure there's nothing I can do to change your mind?" He asked one last time.

"No, there isn't," you shake your head, defiantly.

"You crushing on this guy or something?" He dropped.

A burning hue of red darkens your cheeks and your face tells more than words could ever say.

"Oh my god, you are!" He groaned loudly, almost teasingly, slightly obnoxious. He slapped his forehead with his hand and wove his fingers into his hair. He shook his head in disappointment. "Where did I go wrong?"

"S-shut up!" You stammered.  

"She's in love with a mobster," he repeated to himself as if he didn't believe it the first time.

"Shut your face before I do it for you." You leaned over the table, pushing it slightly towards him in an attempt to intimidate him.

He points at you while laughing. "Look at you!" He roared, loud enough to earn them a few glares from everyone else. "You're blushing like crazy!"

"N-no I'm not!" You refuted, cheeks burning brighter than ever. Why did you even tell him in the first place? Oh right, he's your best friend. Your very stupid friend who laughed at the dumbest things. You kicked him from underneath the table. He winces in pain but doesn't dare stop laughing.

"Ow, you tryna kill me, mob woman?" He asked between fits of laughter.

"I hate you."

"Mrs. Y/N Rogers," he hums while thinking, "has a nice ring to it."

A vein in your forehead snaps and the next thing Quentin knows, he's kissing a really heavy textbook, and wondering what his post-mortem was going to look like.

Quentin Beck. Male. 22. A whole idiot.

Cause of death: Bludgeoned to death with a Campbell Biology textbook. (She thick as fuck).

"So I take it things went well?" Bucky asked with a smirk, sitting across Steve in his office.

"Better than well." Steve beamed. "Amazing. Fantastic. Superb. Had the best damn time of life," he exclaimed.

Sam rolled his eyes. "All she did was kiss you on the cheek," he deadpanned.

"It's a step in the right direction," he stated positively. No bad vibes in his neighborhood. "This is monumental. We're really going somewhere. I could see it in her eyes. They were sparkling. I mean they always do but like more than usual."

"Y'think she even wants anything to do with the mob?" Sam asked.

"I don't know, but I sure as hell won't stop now," he countered.

The days following his lovely talk with you by the bus stop only consisted of daydreams and giggles, scene by scene replays of his favorite parts. The way your eyes shined under a starless sky. The feel of your lips on his skin. The feel of your lips on his skin.

Though it was short and quick, you kissed him. That had to mean something right? Something really good? There's a lot he still needs to know about you. But from what he did know, he knew you wouldn't just kiss any guy. You're a tough shell to crack and it might take time for him to chisel through the stony layers surrounding your heart, but he was getting somewhere.

Steve wasn't complaining. He was excited and determined. If this is what it felt like with just a meager kiss, then how would it feel to hold your hand? To share those cozy moments you said you liked so much? To be the only one you'd share your warmest smiles and most passionate kisses with?

The thought of that alone had Steve riled up like a shaken soda can. Fizzling inside and ready to burst the minute someone popped him open. God, if only you knew what you did to him.

"She's a bit of a firecracker. I think she'd make a nice addition to the family." Sam smirked, knowing full well he was striking a chord in the man's heart.

Steve lets out a breathy chuckle. Shaking his head lightly, he thinks about it just for a second. "Yeah, she's great."

"Now to more serious matters," Bucky interjected, reminding them why they were in the first place. He pushes a file in front of him. Steve opens it to find a picture of a man along with some papers. "Guy by the name of Rumlow wants to talk to you."

Steve raised a brow while looking through. "Who's he?"

"They call him Bullseye. He never misses a shot. He's also a bigtime narcotics man," Sam replied, "Gotta big field all the way in Morocco."

"Says he wants to expand the business," Bucky continued. "He's working with the Lucchese family, Helped him buy a warehouse and fronts to get set up."

"We've already got guys like him," Steve dropped the folder back onto the desk.

"Yeah, but this guy's different." Bucky pointed out. "This stuff that he's got is top of the market. And if we don't get in on this action it's gonna be a major loss." He stated. "Maybe not now or tomorrow but in the next ten years. I mean who knows?"

Steve frowns slightly while scratching the side of his neck. "I don't know. I don't trust him," he said doubtfully."Sam?"

Sam shrugs. "It's all on you big man."

Steve huffs. "Fine, I wanna meeting with this guy," he gets up and pulls his jacket off his chair. "Sometime tomorrow. And before that, I want every piece of information you can get on him on my desk in the morning. Send Clint and Scott."

Steve put his coat on and slipped his phone in his pocket.

Bucky raised a brow. "Where ya going?"

"Out," he replied curtly, heading for the door. He opens the door and they already know where he's going. Steve pops his head back in. "Oh and tell 'em to take the kid with 'em. I don't pay him to sit around all day," he reminded them. "Teach the kid some ropes and make sure he doesn't get shot in the head for saying something stupid, alright?"

"He's a pain in the ass," Bucky deadpanned.

"Never said he wasn't," Steve retorted. "But I don't need his auntie on my bad side. So do me a favor and deal with it," he stated firmly.

"Easy for you to say," Sam jabbed. "You're not the one who's stuck listening to him yapping about Star Wars or some crap. Kid's a nerd," he grumbles.

Steve chuckles while leaving. "Leave him alone. He's a good kid," he contended. "Anyways, I'm off."

"Why are you here?" You deadpanned.

"You don't seem very happy to see me," Steve said, sitting on one of the barstools lining the granite counter with a mischievous grin splayed on his face.

"That's because I'm not," you said flatly, wiping down the counter.

"Ouch, that hurt me right here," he winced while clutching his heart.

"That was my intention," you remarked, unable to stop the smile creeping onto your face.

Steve notices it. He obviously did. Nothing ever went past those pretty blue eyes. He leans over the counter with his arms crossed on top.

"Doesn't seem like it," he teases.

You click your tongue and push his face out of yours. He chuckles and you couldn't help but let go of a chuckle or two.

"You're an idiot, Rogers," you remarked.

Steve props the side of his face with his hand, watching the way you move around the place, frolicking from one spot to another. He watched you like you had the stars in your hands and hung them up in the sky. Even in a dull all-black uniform and hair twisted in a loose bun with a few strands running rampant, there's a glow to you that has him warm on the inside. Your face was bare, only marked with an acne scar here and there and dark circles underneath your eyes due to a lack of sleep and yet, he thinks you're the prettiest thing in the world.

"What?" You asked puzzled and slightly embarrassed.

"Nothing," he smiled, a tint of pink spreading on his cheeks.

"Don't you have anything to do?" You asked. "Or is the mob all talk and no work?"

"I finished early," Steve replied with a chuckle. "So I thought I'd meet my favorite waitress."

"Oh, I'm so honored," you replied sarcastically earning a roll of the eyes from him. You leaned over the counter in front of him with a smirk. "And what have I done to earn a visit from the high and mighty kingpin?"

"Stole my heart," he murmurs.

"What?" You asked standing straight. I didn't hear that. Let's pretend I didn't hear that.

"N-nothing," he quickly replied.

You shake it off as a trick of the mind. "Well if you're here we might as well do something," you dug your hand into your pocket.

"Good idea!" He exclaimed.

"Here," you slammed a stack of cards with a rubber band twisted a few times around.

He furrowed his brows. "What the heck is this?"

"My flashcards. You're gonna help me study," you stated calmly.

Steve groans. "I thought we'd do something more heartfelt to get to know each other more."

"There's the door if you wanna leave," you deadpanned.

"Fine," Steve huffs. "Gimme that." He snatches the cards from you.

Slipping off the rubber band, he flips through the cards and picks a random one.

"Alright," he reads the flashcard. First, he squints then opens them wide in confusion. "I don't understand what this says. It's not even in English."

"Lemme see that," you took it from him.

"It says deoxyribonucleic acid."

"What the fuck is that?" He questioned, his nose scrunched in disgust.

"Its DNA, stupid head," you retorted, slightly annoyed.

"Then why didn't you just write that?"

"Cause I wanna practice spelling it, moron, and cut the sass before I end up kicking your ass to next Tuesday."

Steve smiled, feeling a streak of mischief. "Damn, sweetheart, you sound so pretty when you talk like that. Keep going." He cooed.

Your cheeks burn read. "D-don't say things like that! You're such a weirdo!" You stammered with an angry pout.  

"Oh, my heart!" He exclaimed while clutching his chest. "You're making me see stars!”

"Shut up, you idiot!"

"Why don't you make me with those pretty lips of yours?" Unable to say anything you yank on his ear hard and he yelps. "Ouch, that hurts!"

"Fucking good!" You shouted still pulling on him.

Wanda watched from the small window of the kitchen with a smile. "They make a good match, don’t they?" She asked May. May chuckles while watching you pour out your rage on the poor mob man.

"Like peanut butter and jelly."

A/N: School starts next week for me so updates will get slow. 

TAG LIST:  @ashwarren32​ @rootcrop​ @siriusement​ @savedbystark​ @little-dark-empress​ @great-goddess-of-sin​  @boxofteenageideas​   @imsonick​  @scuzmunkie​ @achishisha​ @calwitch​​ @chuckennuggets1213​​ @captainchrisstan​ @thirstybunz​ @voltage-my2dlove​

[marvelcriminalhoe]

Steve Rogers Fic Recs

 I find that it can be hard to find Completed works. So this list is ALL COMPLETED. I have Fics I'm currently reading that are WIP currently and when those fics are complete I will add those to the list aw well :)

  I will continue to add to the list as time goes on. Im always looking for new fics to read so if you have one please feel free to message me so I can read it and add it to the list!

ALL FICS ARE (X READER) STORIES however how inclusive they are depends on the writer. Please read ALL WARNINGS AND NOTES of the authors. Some stories could be DARK or be 18+. You are responsible for reading the warnings.  I have no claim to any of the stories listed i am simply just a fan of the stories and would like to help writers get their work out their :)

I also selfishly made this list so its easier for me to find the stories when I want to reread them  

If any of the links don’t work or are not wrong please let me know :) 

Bodyguard!Steve x Reader 

Presidential by @kaunis-sielu

Biker!Steve X Reader

Biker Boss by @kaunis-sielu

Can’t Help Myself by @itsanerdlife 

Count Your Blessings by @itsanerdlife 

Help Wanted by @itsanerdlife 

Hate You Less by @itsanerdlife 

Hold on Loosely by @iwillbeinmynest

God!Steve x Reader 

Persephone by @kaunis-sielu

Stargazing by @prettyyoungtragedy

Sugar!Daddy Steve x Reader 

Sugar, Sugar by Brooklynboys  (I don’t know if they have a tumblr still, but this is a link to their google drive where they re uploaded their work) 

Mobster!Steve X Reader 

Guns and Roses  by @kaunis-sielu

Made in Brooklyn by @marveliskindacool 

Secrets and Sins by @kayteewritessteve 

Sunshine by @sweetlyscared

Love on the Brain by @howardpotts 

Teacher!Steve X Teacher!Reader 

Teacher, Teacher  by @kaunis-sielu

Cop!Steve x Reader 

Ever After by @itsanerdlife 

Cowboy!Steve x Reader 

Ride & Prejudice by @pagesoflauren 

(Sequel) Love & Brotherhood  

Professor!Steve x Reader 

Back to School  by @jamielea81 

Attached by @anika-ann 

Royal!Steve x Reader 

A Knights Lady  by @kaunis-sielu 

Her Royal Favor by @promarvelfangirl 

Love is Not Forced by @just-dreaming-marvel 

Love and War by @kayteewritessteve 

Heavy is the Head by @luciilferss

Pseudo Princess by @shreddedparchment

Steve X Reader 

Arming the Soldier  by @kaunis-sielu

Dear Mr.Captain America by @kaunis-sielu

Kisses by @floatingpetals

Super Like & Swipe Right by @avengerscompound 

Rose by Any Other Name by @promarvelfangirl 

His new Partner by @star-spangled-steve

The Line Between Respectful and Stupid by @anika-ann 

Traditions Kept by @anika-ann 

The Blue Stick by @itsanerdlife 

Baby Come Home by @itsanerdlife 

Classified by @itsanerdlife

Nothing Like You @itsanerdlife 

Call Sign: Renaissance by @captain-kelli 

Old Fashioned Way by @notyetneedcoffee 

Sunburst by @the-canary

Kissing Games by @avengemebuckyy 

Used to be Overlooked by @justkending 

Panicked  by @prettyyoungtragedy 

Wonder of You by @panicfob 

Scratch by @findyourhappyplaces 

A Good Man by Brooklynboys 

Muse by Brooklynboys 

Three Hearts by Brooklynboys 

Twofer & Threefer by Brooklynboys 

Wanderlust by Brooklynboys 

LifeGuard!Steve X Lifeguard!Reader 

Save Me  by @captainrogers-ass

College AU

The Lonely Tree by @sarahwroteathing 

Sexiled by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend

Missed Connections by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend 

The Art of Love by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend 

Aurora by @prettyyoungtragedy

Military AU

Finding Home by @promarvelfangirl 

Lawyer!Steve x Reader 

Hold That Thought by @itsanerdlife

TattooArtist!Steve x Reader 

Love in the Ink by @itsanerdlife 

Boxer!Steve x Reader 

Knockout by @itsanerdlife 

Lumberjack!Steve x Reader 

The Night We Met by @avengerofyourheart

Trucker!Steve x Reader 

Before you Go by @world-of-aus 

SingleDad!Steve x Reader

Mini Matchmaker  by @avengerofyourheart

Slow Like Honey by @heli0s-writes 

Roommate! AU

A Series of Unfathomable Feelings by @redgillan 

Mess with them  by @redgillan (this isn’t room mate but oh well)

ABO Au

Welcome to the pack by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork 

Serendipity by Brooklynboys 

Stucky x Reader 

Fallen From Grace by @the-mighty-jellybean

(Sequel) Rising from the Earth 

Menage et trois by Brooklynboys 

Modern AU

Beautifully Unfinished by @kayteewritessteve 

If Only You Knew by @kayteewritessteve 

Tear in My Heart by @prettyyoungtragedy

Unexpected by @sunriserose1023 

Doctor!Steve 

Black & Blue by @the-mighty-jellybean 

Ransom x Reader (because this was so good I couldn’t NOT add it) 

Highest Bidder by @pagesoflauren