#Mob!steve x reader

[veltana]

No one as sweet as you - Mafia!Stucky/Reader

✦ Pairing: Stucky/Reader ✦ Word count: ~9,4k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings: Mafia AU, best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, protective!stucky, TW: reader is verbally and physically abused by john walker, idiots in love, sharing a bed, poly relationship, piv sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus, praise kink, pet names (Sweets), unprotected sex, creampie. ✦ Summary: When you’re hurt by your boyfriend you go to the two people you can depend on for anything, Steve and Bucky, your best friends. ✦ Note: This is a fic that was previously posted on AO3, at the beginning of the year. But since I'm stuck in writer's block right now I thought I would post this in case you haven't read it. It's one of my favorites. There are some short prequel fics to this also posted on AO3, about when they were living together in college. I'll post those too in the following weeks.

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

The bouncer gives you one glance before he opens the door for you and the line of people you pass shout angrily but you don’t even spare them a glance, your thoughts elsewhere. The music in the club usually invigorates you but tonight it passes through without leaving a trace.

Making your way to Monica at the bar, the people you pass shoot you weird glances and you know you must look a mess. When she sees you she comes right over, the music is too loud to talk so you share a squeeze of the forearm in place of a hug before she pours you your favorite wine, with a pitying smile at your smeared mascara. You throw a kiss at her before making your way to the back and once again the big man at the door opens it for you after a quick look.

The music is muted as you make your way to the stairs at the back that take you up to their private room. When your heels land at the top and you meet Bucky's eyes he lifts the girl currently on his lap off and declares "Everyone out."

Steve shoots him an irritated look before his eyes follow Bucky's and sees you. You stand perfectly still while the women and men who were enjoying a private party with two of the biggest mobsters in New York mill past you down the stairs, some even shoot you dirty looks.

When the last person has passed, you take a step towards them, but before you're two steps in, Bucky has taken the glass from your hand and Steve has lifted you into his arms. You cling to him, hands grasping his shirts, and finally, you know you’re safe.

Steve sits down with you in his lap, cradling your head to lean it against him, the other arm holding you tight at your waist. Bucky's palms are gentle when he rubs your back soothingly. None of them say anything at first but the tears running down your face speak for themselves. You made it all the way without breaking down but with them, you can be vulnerable. For the last seven years, they’ve been the rock, the shelter, and your haven.

"Talk to us, Sweets," Bucky's voice is only that soft with you, maybe sometimes with Steve too, “What’s going on?” You try to take a deep breath, but it just stutters. After a few more tries it’s better but you’re not sure where to begin. They give you time, and don't press you on information, like they otherwise do in their line of work.

Finally, you release Steve's shirt and instead, you find the hand he has wrapped around your waist, twisting the rings on his fingers as you try to speak. You don't want to look at them, the shame and the anxiety is running high in your body but you want to tell them, you just have to find the right words.

"You know the guy I've been seeing," you start and feel Steve's arms tighten around you. Before you can say more Bucky mutters "I'm gonna kill him." Steve is calmer and asks, "What about John, Sweets?" He speaks into your hair, his voice is gentle but it has a hard edge. "He's been so sweet since we started going out, but he's been having a rough time at work lately," you squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to remember, your heart beating like crazy. The memories bring forth the panic and the fear again and your breath gets shallow.

"It's alright Sweets, you're here with us, nothing can hurt you," Bucky's low voice is comforting, together with their touch, and you know he’s telling you the truth. It’s the reason you came here instead of going home.

You take a few more breaths and continue "So I thought I'd do something nice for him. We had a spa day and while he soaked in the tub I made dinner and dressed up for him." Frowning hard, your fingers spin the rings on Steve's hand faster and faster the more your anxiety builds, knowing what’s coming.

"And everything was great until I poured the wine and spilled some on the tablecloth." Your mouth opens and closes a few times and the tears start to fall again but Bucky is there with his thumbs, cradling your face and brushing them away, while Steve rocks you gently in his embrace.

"He was furious," you cry. "Said I ruined everything! He threw the wine in my face, then the bottle across the room. He tried to grab me but I ran out of there." There is a long silence when you finish, it’s just your sobs and the music from the other side of the wall. Then Steve says "I'm gonna fucking kill him," his voice laced with rage, and he hugs you even closer.

"I took a cab here, I didn’t know where else to go, I didn’t wanna go home." With the last words out you feel a small relief. You’ve told them. You’ve told someone. The scene still plays in your head, seeing John's eyes turn black with rage when the drops of rosé landed on the white linen, feeling the fear when he started screaming.

"Thank you for telling us, Sweets. You’re an incredible person," Steve says and moves you out of his lap and over to Bucky's. They treat you with the utmost care, moving slowly, giving you time to protest if you want, or detangle yourself if that's what you desire. But you let them manipulate your body how they like because sometimes they know what you need more than you do.

"You did nothing wrong," he goes on to say, holding onto your hands, letting his thumbs caress the skin. "John is an absolute fucking asshole and no one should be treated like that.” You meet his green-blue eyes that are only soft for you, and Bucky. Right now, Steve isn’t the feared mobster that people avert their eyes from when he enters a room, scared they’re going to end up in a ditch because they looked at him wrong. No, this Steve is your best friend.

"I don't want to be scared, and I don't want to go home in case he comes there," you confess. "You'll stay with us," Bucky decides, voice finite. "Let’s go home so you can take a shower and change clothes." You nod and are about to stand up but Bucky is quicker, changing his grip and holding you close as he gets up. He carries you to the car and doesn't let go of you until you're in their mansion, in the room you have there.

When he puts you down your feet are a little unsteady and they both look at you with concern, but you give them a weak smile “It’s okay.” "We'll be right outside, shout if you need anything," Steve tells you and when you nod they both step out and close the door softly behind them.

For a moment you stand still, trying to make sense of the last hours, wondering how everything went to shit. Then you finally get a good look at yourself in the tall mirror and see the black rivulets of mascara and eyeliner smudged down your cheeks, the foundation almost gone.

The dress is ruined by the wine and even if it was expensive and you can get it dry cleaned you don’t want it anymore. You pull it off and throw it into the trash can, quickly followed by the heels. The lingerie is one of your favorite sets but you're unsure if you will ever be able to enjoy it again without remembering how you chose it especially for John. After a moment it goes into the trash, and the earrings too, feeling like you need everything from the night to be gone.

The only thing you keep on your body is the necklace that was a gift from Bucky and Steve years ago and you haven’t taken it off since. It's custom-made with three delicate chains in gold, silver, and black twisted together. You loved it the moment you saw it, knowing that the chains were the three of you, twisted together through the rest of your lives. When you touch it with your fingers it makes you feel better, because you can feel them with you.

The shower feels more than just bodily cleansing and when you remove the last pieces of your smeared makeup, smoothing eye cream over your puffy eyes, the feeling of fear and panic is distant.

In the closet are a bunch of your clothes, probably more than you like to admit, but the best part is the drawer with their old t-shirts. You pull one out, not sure which of them it used to belong to, but it’s worn and soft against your skin. For a moment you press it against your nose, breathing in the detergent that reminds you of this place and all the wonderful memories that you have with them, before you find your pajama pants.

Out in your room you sit on the bed and look around at the muted colors. Bucky and Steve insisted that the room was yours, not just a guest room, and it makes you smile a little when you think about how much fun you had decorating it.

After taking a deep breath you open the door and find them just a few steps away. The look in Bucky's eyes is murderous and Steve's fists are clenched by his side, but when they turn to you they go back to being your best friends that you met in college all those years ago. "How are you feeling?" Bucky steps up to you and pulls you into a soft hug, tucking your head underneath his chin as you wrap your arms around his waist, breathing in the smell of him. Steve comes up behind you, placing his palms on your shoulders, rubbing the muscles carefully. "Better now," you answer. "But I never had dinner so I'm a bit hungry."

Bucky pulls away from you, cradling your face, tilting it up until you're looking right into his light blue eyes. "Let's go raid the kitchen," he smiles and holds your gaze for a few seconds more and there is so much love in those eyes it's almost scary. You know he would burn down the city if it made you happy, they both would, and that intensity is one of the many things that have kept you from finding out what it would be like to be theirs. You're not sure you'd be able to handle it.

When Bucky lets go of you, Steve's arm goes around your waist and he pulls you into him, Bucky takes your hand, lacing your fingers together, and you walk to the kitchen. You sit down at the kitchen island while they open the fridge.

"The chef made mac'n’cheese," Steve says and pulls out an oven pan, covered in tin foil with a post-it note on top with instructions for heating it. Bucky turns on the oven and says, "Want something to drink Sweets?"

"Soda?" you ask and Steve pulls a can out of the fridge before settling down beside you, handing it to you. You hand it right back "Please? I don't wanna fuck up my nails." That makes him chuckle as he opens it and the sound makes you warm on the inside so you lean your head against his shoulder.

"Thank you," you sigh. "For always being here for me. I'm sorry I ruined your party." "You didn't ruin shit," Bucky spits out, glaring at you from where he is standing by the oven. Steve and you chuckle at his harsh tone but then he leans forward, over the counter towards you, resting his large arms against the surface.

"I mean it, Sweets, don't you ever think you ruin anything by showing up, for any reason," his voice is stern but you know it comes from a place of love. "Thank you, Bucky, it means a lot," you smile.

When the oven is warm Bucky puts the tray in and pulls out plates. It only takes a few minutes and your tummy rumbles as the kitchen fills with the smell of cheese. Bucky and Steve make small talk about work things and you're grateful for them filling the silence while you finally get some food.

But it isn't the nice chicken that you cooked for John that you looked forward to eating and your eyes begin to burn. Even though you try to force the tears back they come anyway and run down your cheeks as you eat. Neither Bucky nor Steve notice until you reach for a paper towel and sniffle loudly. Not a second later you're wrapped up in Steve's embrace, crying into his shirt again while Bucky caresses your hair and nape. They mumble sweet things to you and tell you that you're safe and that nothing is ever going to hurt you again.

After a few minutes, the tears run dry. "I'm okay," you say and Steve loosens his hold, his eyes filled with concern for you. "You sure?" "Yeah, but I feel like I've been hit by a truck. Should probably try to get some sleep.” "We're sleeping in my room," Bucky decides and you nod, Steve too.

It's not unusual for the three of you to share a bed when one of you has had a rough time. The first time it happened was after finals and you all fell asleep in Steve's bed, totally exhausted, and slept better than you'd had in weeks.

Then it was after break-ups, yours, Steve's, Bucky's, somehow you all ended up in a bed together every time and it wasn't sexual at any point, just friends being there for each other and it continued through the years. The only time it was out of the question was when one of you was in a relationship, then it just felt weird, and from previous experience, it wasn't something that partners were all that accepting of.

You retrieve your pillows and cover from your room before settling in Bucky’s huge bed, your feet twisted up with Steve's, and Bucky is holding your hand. It's nice, it's familiar and you drift off knowing you're safe with them.

The room is dark when their soft voices wake you, but that might be because of the black-out curtains and not because it's still night. They’ve moved close enough to you that you can feel the warmth from their bodies on either side of you, and Bucky’s chest is right in front of your eyes when you open them slightly to peek. They don't notice you're awake and you don't feel like announcing it either, curious what they’re talking about.

"We let her decide." Even if Steve's tone is hushed it's still hard. "She is too sweet, you know she would never hurt a fly, she's going to say no," Bucky protests harshly in a whisper. This is interesting, you think.

"Even if you and I are fine with getting blood on our hands, maybe she doesn't want to live with that, maybe she wants to press charges." Steve has always been the more level-headed of the two, good with looking at things from all angles and keeping his cool. Bucky huffs and you want to giggle. His emotions always get him in trouble, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. When Bucky is angry he sees red and when he loves he does it with his whole soul and being. One time you asked Steve how he isn’t dead yet since his poker face seems to suck, but Steve explained that when they’re doing business he is usually calm and collected. When his emotions finally break through, people know they should probably run.

"Fine.” You can tell Bucky is not happy but he lowers his voice even more, and now it’s tinged with something else. “But I'm never letting her go again." His words together with his gentle tone make your heart skip. There was a time when you seriously thought about asking them to see if the three of you could work it out, and be more than just friends. But what you have with them is so precious that if it fails in the end, and you lose your best friends, you're not sure how you're going to go on.

"And you think I will?" Steve mutters. "We should have said something a long time ago." "Well, we can't go back in time. All I know is that I love her and I can't see her with anyone else ever again," Bucky's voice sounds like it's going to crack. He never cries but that is as close as it gets.

Steve reaches over you towards him, you can't see what he does but you know how Steve's comforting hands look on Bucky, you've seen it before. Sometimes they're even sweeter with each other than they are with you, when they think no one can see them, not even you. It's so clear that they love each other deeply, honestly it's surprising that they don't just date each other.

You hear Bucky hum in contentment and Steve gives a small soft laugh. It feels like a good time as any to pretend to wake up. You file away their words for another day, not ready to deal with them now in the wake of what’s happened. First, you need to heal the broken heart you're already nursing before thinking about giving it away again.

With a groan you turn from your side to your back, stretching and blinking your eyes open. They're lying on their sides, both resting their heads on their hands. "What time is it?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes. "Just past nine," Bucky informs you and brushes a few strands of hair out of your face. "And you two are still here?" "Just for you," Steve says softly and finds your hand, twisting your fingers together.

Both of them are early risers and you hate mornings, something they tease you for endlessly. "Honestly though, have you already, like, gone for a run, had breakfast, and then sealed some important deal?" "Nope." Bucky slides his arm in under your neck, placing the other hand on your hip, and pulls you closer to him. "We didn't want to leave in case you woke up." Steve shuffles closer, his chest pressing into your shoulder. "Didn't want you to think we left you all by yourself."

You hum and decide to ask "Would it be okay if I stay here a few days?" "Sweets, stay as long as you want. It's your home as much as ours,” Steve answers. "No,” you correct. “My name is definitely not on any papers for this house." "We can fix that if that's what you want. Just move here." Bucky is serious but you decide to laugh it off. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" "Like old times." he smiles.

"Except I have no desire to listen to the people you bring home scream and moan, got enough of that in college,” tumbles out of your mouth without really thinking of it. They exchange a look but before they can say anything you hastily continue. "Do you think I need to break up with John, or do you think he got the message when I left?"

An uneasy silence falls and Bucky breaks it. "I'm gonna be honest with you Sweets, I really wanna fucking kill him, and make it as painful and as horrifying for him as possible. Death will feel like a blessing in the end." Steve speaks next. "But it's your decision, and if you wanna press charges against him, we'll make our lawyers available."

It’s a lot to take in at that moment. "I don't know,” you answer truthfully. “It still hurts, I'm still scared but I'm not sure what will make it better." "When you've decided you let us know and we'll do whatever you want." Steve bends down to kiss the top of your head.

"If I see him on the street or something though I'm gonna punch him," Bucky says casually before letting go of you and getting out of bed. When his warmth leaves you, you whine and that makes him chuckle. He kneels on the bed and kisses your forehead. "Steve will keep you company while I make breakfast." "You mean go get what the chef has already prepared?" you joke. Bucky shoots you a look before leaving the bedroom.

"We should be glad he isn't actually cooking. Remember when he tried to make pancakes for his girlfriend and almost burned down the apartment," Steve notes. "That's because he got distracted. I mean, I'm glad I came out of my room when I did but the image of Bucky and her on the kitchen table still haunts me," you chuckle.

"You weren't exactly innocent back in those days either," Steve points out with a laugh. "But I never did it on the communal surfaces," you defend with a huff. "No, all we got was listening to you trying to stifle every sound and failing miserably." "Well, at least I didn't break a wall while fucking someone." "It was a shitty wall, never have that problem here." "See that's why I don't wanna move here." "We can soundproof your room?" "Or I can just live in my apartment?"

Bucky comes back with a breakfast tray and places it on the bedside table before pulling out your phone from his pants. "It's been buzzing nonstop since I got down," he explains and hands it to you right as the screen lights up with an incoming call.

"It's John," you tell them, and your chest floods with anxiety as you stare at the screen and sit up against the headboard. "Answer it," Steve sits up beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. Bucky is pressed against you much the same on your other side. "On speaker," he instructs and takes out his own phone to record the call.

Your hands shake as you swipe to answer. "H-hello." Your voice is wavering. "Baby! I'm sorry for yesterday, I'm sorry I got mad. I've been calling since you left, I've been so worried. I checked your place but you weren't home. Where are you?" John says in a worried voice. "I'm at a friend's house," you reply.

The feelings in your chest are conflicted, on one hand you never want to see him again but hearing his voice makes you remember that when he is good he is great, amazing even, and you would be lying if you said you didn't miss him. For the last few months, you gave it your all and you were even prepared to tell him you love him.

"I'll come and pick you up and let me apologize properly," he sounds pained like he is actually sorry for what he did. Fuck, it's so tempting to go back but you know better. You know that this is just the tip of the iceberg, and getting wine thrown in your face is probably not the worst that can happen.

"No, John." You try to sound confident but you're not sure it comes across. "I don't think it's going to work out between us." The moment you say the words the tears well up and Steve starts rubbing your shoulder." You're doing great," he whispers right by your ear so John doesn't hear.

"Are you-" John sounds shocked. "Are you breaking up with me… over the phone?" "Yeah, sorry." You cringe, you shouldn't be sorry. "You scared me yesterday and I feel like I don't know you anymore."

"Babe you don't need to be scared of me, I would never hurt you I swear," he sounds like he is about to cry and a part of you wants to comfort him. "You threw wine in my face and said some really mean things," you point out.

"I didn't mean any of that, I promise. You know I've had a lot on my plate lately and I didn't mean to take it out on you." There is some part of you that desperately wants to believe him. "That's not an excuse," you go on. "I'm not an object for you to take out your frustration on. It's not going to work John."

There is a long silence before he speaks again and now his voice is laced with rage instead. "Then you can come get your fucking things right now." "John, please don't-" you start but he cuts you off.

"You fucking bitch, you lead me on for months and then you break up with me over the phone, because what? You think I’m gonna hit you or something?" "Yeah, maybe," you answer truthfully. "You're such a dumb bitch, I would never lay a hand on a woman I care about."

Both Steve and Bucky stir beside you. When you shoot them a glance they are both staring at the screen with murder in their eyes. "Calling me names won't change my mind, John," it hurts when he says them, like an actual stab in the heart and it brings out more tears.

Bucky leans over and taps the mute button. "There is no way you're going over there, we'll send Sam and Vis." You nod and unmute while John is raging on about how dumb and useless you are and how he wishes he'd never wasted his time on you. "I'm going to send some friends to pick up my things."

"Oh, so you won't even face me yourself?” his voice is unrecognizable now. “You know what? I'm glad for what I did, I'm not sorry anymore, you're obviously a fucking coward and not worth a second of my time." Every ounce of fight is gone from you, you're just tired and want it to be over. You don’t want to listen to the hurtful words anymore so you simply say "Goodbye John," and don't even wait for a response before hanging up. You drop the phone into the sheets and bury your face in your hands, your body jerking with sobs.

Steve and Bucky’s arms go around you but you hardly notice, everything is just excruciating pain, your heart smashed into a million pieces. Twenty-four hours ago you were happy with a man you thought you knew, and loved, but now everything is broken and you're not sure what you’re going to do next.

It takes a long time for you to stop crying and when it finally ends you're exhausted, again. The coffee Bucky brought has gone cold but Steve holds a glass of juice to your lips and makes you take a few sips before coaxing some yogurt into your mouth. "Steve is going to stay with you while I take care of a few things. If you need me, you tell him and I'll be right back," Bucky promises when he leaves the bed again, taking the tray with him out of the bedroom.

"Is he going to kill him?" you ask softly as you sink down under the covers. Steve puts his arm around your waist and pulls you into his chest until your face is squished against it. "No," his voice is soft. "Not without me." "Steve…" "Can you blame us, Sweets? John was lucky it was over the phone or else we would have beaten him into a pulp for saying those things."

"He never acted like that before," you whisper. "I'm just happy you got out before he put his hands on you," Steve whispers back. "If you had shown up with bruises yesterday I might have lost it." "I love you," you tell him and he kisses the top of your head. "I love you too, Sweets, and I know Bucky feels just the same." You hum and let the exhaustion take over.

They have switched when you wake the next time, you're in Bucky's arms and he is carding his fingers through your hair speaking quietly to you. "Wake up Sweets, it's time for dinner."

Even if you’ve slept right through lunch you shake your head and swing your leg over his hip, clinging to him. "Don't wanna get up," you whine. "If you eat dinner, we can watch a movie on the couch afterward." He knows just how to tempt you and you need something to try and take your mind off everything.

"Candy?" you pull back. Even if the light in the room is dim you can still see the blue in his eyes, and the crinkles at the corners when he smiles. "You know we keep stock of everything you like, there is always something sweet for our Sweets."

You hug him hard. "I love you Bucky, you know that right?" "I love you too, Sweets." He kisses the top of your head, much like Steve did earlier. "And I know Steve feels just the same." That makes you giggle "Steve said the same thing." "Well he is a smart man," he shrugs.

Bucky all but pulls you out of bed but he doesn't force you to change out of your pajamas. He leads you to the kitchen where Steve is plating the food and your stomach grumbles when you smell it. They have set the table with candles and it looks lovely but it also reminds you of your last candle-lit dinner. Bucky sees the look on your face turns you away from it and tilts your chin up with his fingertips, "It’s…” he begins, hesitating, trying to find the right words. “We want to replace every bad memory, but if it’s too much too soon we’ll throw it all out.”

The scary thing is that he is serious. If you said the word they would throw everything out, but you don't want that, you want a nice dinner with them and try to get past what happened. Maybe it will help, maybe it won’t but you won’t know until you’ve tried. And if there is one thing you know for sure, it is that you are safe with them.

“It’s fine, I’ll try,” you promise with a smile before turning around to sit down at the table. Steve serves the food and Bucky pours you a glass of wine. After a few bites, Bucky brings up some stupid shit the three of you did a long time ago and through dinner, you reminisce about old times.

Since meeting John you haven't seen them as much because you learned early on that partners were weirded out or even jealous of what you had with them. Right now you can’t fathom why you would ever do that, because these two people are the best thing in your life.

You fold your napkin into your lap and look at them. "I'm sorry for, like, ghosting you the last few months," you swallow hard. "I've been a shitty friend but you always take care of me when I need you, and I’m so thankful for that. I promise I’ll do better."

"It's okay sweets," Steve smiles and reaches over the table to grasp your hand. Bucky takes the other and his thumb caresses your knuckles. "Don't apologize, there is no need." The lump in your throat is from love and not from sadness this time and you don't try to speak, just nod, squeezing their hands back.

Afterward, you cuddle up on the couch to watch a movie but ten minutes in you're already nodding off. When Steve and Bucky notice you're asleep they turn the TV off and Steve carries you up to Bucky's bedroom. "She has work tomorrow," Bucky whispers and pulls the cover up over your body. "Fuck, should we wake her?" Steve asks back. "No, let her sleep, she starts at nine so if we let her sleep til seven it should be fine."

Fortunately, the alarm on your phone goes off as usual but when you turn to snooze it, you instead roll into a warm chest. Steve grumbles and reaches for your phone, handing it to you before seizing you around the waist, and burying his face in your neck.

“Hey, I have to get up,” you mutter. It feels like your eyes are filled with sand and your head is pounding but you have to go to work nonetheless. “You don’t have to work,” he speaks into your skin and it makes a tingling feeling travel through you.

“Don’t be silly, let go of me,” you chuckle and detangle yourself. The other side of the bed is empty, Bucky already up. You drag yourself over to your room to shower before getting ready and eating breakfast. Steve insists on driving you to work and Bucky comes and sees you off with a long hug and a kiss on your hair. “I’ve put Clint and Peter to watch your apartment and Sam and Vis are going to be outside your work all day, Sweets.” “Thank you, Bucky.”

When Steve drops you off he points out the car. "If you see John or you for any other reason feel unsafe you can go to them right away, or call us,” he tucks a strand of hair in behind your ear. “Don’t hesitate. You mean everything to us and we want to keep you safe, Sweets,” You nod. “Thank you, Steve,” you whisper, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek before heading to work.

What you told yourself would only be a few days, turns into a few weeks and now it’s almost two months. Despite your initial refusal, you’re enjoying living with them again. A few times after the break-up, John tried to contact you and every time the phone started buzzing and your anxiety spiked you found one of them and they helped you through it.

You haven’t slept in your room once and neither has Steve, it's always the three of you sleeping in Bucky's bed. It could be because Bucky has an expensive bed that you sleep so soundly, but in the back of your head, you know it’s because their presence calms you.

If Bucky or Steve can't drive you to work, someone else does, your own car is still parked on the street by your apartment and you don’t have any desire to go get it. But you do miss some of your clothes, and toiletries, so maybe you should take it as a sign that you need to go back.

After getting home from work that day you walk up to their office, a little apprehensive. Both of them are leaning over the desk when you poke your head in, their cuffs rolled up, exposing their underarms. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, they look too good. Steve sees you first and a smile splits his face. “Hey Sweets, have a good day at work?”

Bucky turns and opens his arms towards you when you step into the room. His hug is warm and comforting and you answer Steve’s question with a yes, before taking a step back from them. "I know I said I was only going to stay a few days but it's been way more than that now, so I think I'll go back to my place after work tomorrow." You try to sound as neutral as possible, neither sad nor happy, just stating a fact.

"No," Bucky breathes, fists tightening at his sides. "I agree with Bucky, don't leave," Steve's voice is calm and his face doesn’t give much away but his eyes are betraying him, they’re too glossy, too wide, and too filled with fear to miss.

The other reason you need to go back home is the way they are treating you and touching you. It’s making your feelings run wild and you can't have that, you can’t risk losing them too. And if that wasn't enough they've invaded your dreams with their touches and words, making you wake up aching for them in a way that is totally inappropriate.

"I can't stay, you know that," you sigh. "No, I don't." Bucky is frustrated, staring at you. "I really fucking don't know why you can't stay. We love having you here and you seem to love being here. Just stay."

His mood is making you defensive, you don't want to explain that you're obviously catching feelings soon after getting out of something traumatic. You need to think, and every time you wake up drenched, tucked in between them you are seconds away from ruining everything by confessing or honestly just taking one of their hands and pushing it in between your legs, hoping they will help you get off.

"I need my own space, Bucky," you cross your arms and glare at him. "You have your own room," he states and takes a step closer. "That I don't use anyway," you reply and take a step back. "Because you don't want to!" His raised voice silences you not because you're scared but because he's right. Bucky isn’t stupid and he's not the type to sugarcoat things when he's upset.

Your heart is hammering. "No I don't want to," you confess with a breath. "But I need to." Then you turn to go but only get a step from the desk before Steve grabs your wrist. He spins you into his chest, Bucky coming up behind you, boxing you in between them. Bucky's head falls on your shoulder. "I can't let you go again, Sweets, I can't do it."

Your mind flashes back to the morning when you pretended to sleep and heard them talking. The breath in your chest hitches as you look up into Steve's blue-green eyes. “I’m with him, Sweets,” he says in a low voice and cups your cheek with his large hand. “You belong here, with us.”

Your mouth opens and you try to protest but it dies on your tongue and Steve takes the opportunity to continue. "We love you, more than anything, we want you to be ours, more than just our best friend. Live with us, be with us in every sense of the word. All three of us, together," his voice wavers at the end.

The words sink in slowly. Be with them. Be theirs. Stay. Your body is aching to say yes and your heart is about to beat its way out of your chest. “But…” “All I know is that I feel incomplete without you, like a part of my soul is somewhere else, and the only time I'm at peace is when I'm with you two. I can't keep living like a part of me is missing. So I'm asking you, please stay, please help us figure this out and be with us." Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist. "Every time I see you with someone else my heart gets ripped out of my chest and I've tried to be with other people, we both have, but in the end, they’re not you."

Their confessions break down your defenses as their words ring true. In all your relationships over the years, there's always been something missing but you've never been able to figure out what. There's been passion and there's been love but it's always lacking something and now you think you get it. It has lacked them and the deep connection you share through years and years of friendship. Feeling stupid about wanting to leave and thinking you weren’t ready to be with them makes tears well in your eyes. Whatever it is you three can figure it out, it may not be traditional but it beats being unhappy.

"Don't cry, Sweets." Steve runs his thumb over your cheek. You lean your head into his chest, nodding against it. "I'll stay," you sniffle. The arms around your waist tighten and Bucky speaks into your shoulder. "Really Sweets?" he sounds like he’s worried that maybe you're joking.

"Really Bucky," you promise, wrapping your arms around Steve and hugging him close. For a moment it’s just the three of you enveloped in your shared love but then Bucky rights himself and you look up at him over your shoulder, matching his silly smile.

He leans in like he is about to kiss you but he stops himself, his eyes searching yours for something, and it's scary. If you take the plunge everything will change, or maybe it won't, but it feels like an earthquake is rolling through your life, upsetting everything and if you let him kiss you it will be real. But that's what you want.

"Please?" you ask him and his whole face lights up before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours. It could be described as fireworks, an erupting volcano, or maybe feeling the first rays of sunlight on your skin after years in darkness, but nothing will come close to the feeling of being kissed by Bucky.

It's a chaste kiss with just his lips moving carefully against yours. It's over quicker than you want but in his place is Steve, turning your head back towards him and descending on you. His fingers run through your hair and he opens your mouth to let his tongue play with yours, the feeling once again indescribable, it's just the feeling of right. Everything about it feels right.

Even if the kiss is slow when he pulls back your breathing is labored and you're clutching his shirt. "I-" you begin but can’t find any words. That kiss ignited something inside you, it's like you're seeing color for the first time, everything is clearer and sharper. What even was your life before?

"Are doing okay Sweets?" Bucky asks next to your ear and you nod in response. When his soft lips caress the side of your neck you whimper and lean your head to give him better access, he chuckles against your skin, nipping it and making you gasp. "I wanna eat you up, find out what you taste like everywhere."

It’s a badly kept secret that Bucky has a marking kink. You’ve seen his exes, you know he's possessive and likes to leave marks. You can't wait to have them on you so you whisper, "Mark me.”

Steve chuckles above you. "She knows you, Bucky," he says with a smile. "You too, Steve, please?" You’re almost begging, but not quite, just asking nicely. "You want me to give you a hickey?" he asks with a crooked smile but those eyes are too easy to read. He craves you. "Or a bruise, or a bite mark, something, anything," "Fuck…" His face changes to match his dark eyes. "You want everyone to know you belong to us, Sweets?" he asks with a hoarse voice and you feel the large bulge in his pants press against your stomach.

You nod, biting your lip. "Show me how you do it, Bucky.” They spin you around and Bucky grabs at the collar of your blouse, pulling harshly, sending the buttons flying over the office. “Hey-” you begin but he pulls the fabric aside exposing the juncture between your shoulder and neck. First, he sinks his teeth in, hard enough for you to hiss but not breaking the skin, then he closes his lips and sucks.

It's painful but the act in itself makes you throb. When he pulls back you release your breath but Steve is quick to pull the neckline on the other side and do the exact same thing. He is gentler but when he's done there is still a purple bruise on your skin. "Fuck me," you whimper against Bucky.

"Yes, Sweets, we will. Long and hard until you can't take it anymore. We're going to ruin you." Steve promises before he grabs you and lifts you up, spinning you so you can wrap your legs around him as he starts walking to the bedroom, Bucky right behind you. You reach your hand out towards him and he grabs it, kissing your palm and knuckles. "We're going to take care of you Sweets, you'll never want for anything," he promises with a wicked smirk.

Steve places you on the edge of the bed and stands up, looking down at you. Bucky comes up beside him, resting his forearm on Steve's shoulder. "Look at our sweets, can you believe it?" Bucky asks. Steve turns to him with a smile. "Yes." Then he places two fingers under Bucky's chin, turning his head before kissing him. It's heated, filthy and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. You squeeze your legs together to alleviate some of the pressure you're feeling in your cunt. Their kiss shows that it's nothing new, they've obviously done it before and you're a little mad that they have withheld this from you.

When Steve starts pulling on Bucky's clothes you can't keep the moan from slipping out. They both break away and turn to you and you feel small in the best way possible. "Did you like that?" Bucky asks before leaning down and kissing you.

The knowledge that his tongue was just in Steve's mouth and is now sliding against yours makes you moan again. You start undoing the buttons on his shirt and he pulls on your top. When you separate, he pulls it off and you’re left in just your bralette. Steve makes a sound in the back of his throat at the sight and starts taking off his own clothes.

Bucky kneels in front of you on the floor, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them off, while you stare at Steve as more and more skin is revealed. He holds your gaze the whole time and you bite your lip when he starts at his pants. His chest and forearms are huge, covered in tattoos but in no way hiding the muscle underneath. It makes your mouth water and your cunt clench.

Bucky starts kissing up your bare leg, beginning at your ankles and slowly working his way up your calve and the inside of your thigh. When you're still staring at Steve he nips your skin. "I know he's gorgeous but when I eat your pussy I want your eyes on me, Sweets." He tries to look offended but his pupils are blown wide with lust.

Just the thought of him between your legs makes a shiver run through you and your cunt impossibly wetter. Nodding at him you caress the side of his face and watch him, the closer he gets, the more you start to tremble with need. No one had ever made you feel so needy and horny.

Bucky kisses your cunt through your underwear, making you gasp. "Please Bucky, I need you." "I know, I can smell how fucking wet you are Sweets." He twists your panties out of the way. "Fuck, Steve, look at her, she's dripping."

Steve, in just his underwear now, slides his fingers gently through the mess, making you tremble and moan, before bringing the fingers to his mouth and holding your gaze as he licks them clean. Then Bucky's mouth is on you, his tongue licking from your core up to your clit.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck-" you cry and grab the sheets under you, bucking up into his touch. Steve chuckles and gets behind you on the bed. "He looks like he's in heaven, Sweets. He has wanted you for so long." You feel his fingers undo the clasp of your bra and then slide it off. His hands cup your tits a second later, making more sounds spill out of your mouth. His fingers rub, caress, and pull on your nipples while Bucky is hurdling you toward your climax.

"I'm- I'm gonna-" Your legs shake and you grab Steve's arm with one hand, the other going to Bucky's head, grabbing his short hair. Every muscle in your body tenses right before the coil snaps, making you scream out your release, riding Bucky's face and feeling the pleasure-filled waves travel through your body.

You slump against Steve's and he holds you. Bucky pulls back with a shit-eating grin, wiping his face with the back of his hand, saying "Fuck Sweets," before he stands up and starts taking off his clothes.

You already feel amazing, high off your orgasm but you want more and Steve's hard-on is pressing into your back. You turn around on the bed. "Move up," you tell him and his smirk is knowing but he does as you say and moves to sit against the headboard.

You rid yourself of your drenched panties before grabbing his boxers and pulling them off. "Eager Sweets?" he chuckles and fists his cock as soon as it's free. It's thick and long as him and you can't fucking wait. You bite your lip before asking "Condom?"

"I know we should but I want to feel you raw Sweets,” he confesses. “Are you on birth control?" "Sure, and I got tested the week after…" you trail off not wanting the bad memories to ruin the moment. Bucky's heat is suddenly behind you, grabbing your hair and forcing your head back to kiss you deeply. When he lets go he says, "Steve and I got tested like a week before you moved in and I've not even looked another person's way since then." Steve laughs "And I haven't fucked anyone either so get over here and ride my cock Sweets."

To say you scramble is an accurate description, quickly shuffling over to him and straddling his hips. You hold onto his shoulders as he swipes the head of his cock through your mess, holding it still for you to sink down on.

All three of you moan in unison as his dick disappears into your tight hot channel. The grip Steve has on your hips is almost bruising and the look on his face is painful. “F-fuck. Sweets. Damn.” Is all he gets out. You lean in, kissing his cheeks and chin and lips, and start to move, slowly, the feeling is amazing, he's filling you up to the brim perfectly.

"Feels so good," you stutter and then drop down hard. "I'm never watching porn again," Bucky says from behind you and you watch him over your shoulder, kneeling on the bed and jerking his cock. You whine in the back of your throat, you want him too, so you reach for him as you bounce on Steve's cock, making him spill the most delicious sounds.

Bucky shuffles over and you grab his dick in your hand, he's big enough that it doesn't fit all the way around. His hand lands on Steve's shoulder to steady himself and Steve reaches out to place a hand on his hip.

The sounds the three of you make fill the room. It's moans, groans, and whimpers, the sound of slapping skin and squelching wetness. Your clit is steadily rubbing against Steve, getting you closer and closer. Bucky is panting heavily, Steve is too.

"Sweets, I can feel you. Are you gonna come on my cock?" Steve is trying to sound unaffected and failing miserably, but he continues to spill filth that rushes you toward the edge. "When I've filled you up, Bucky is gonna fuck my cum right back into you, aren't you Buck?" "Fuck yes," he groans before leaning in and kissing you deeply. “I wanna see you come on his cock Sweets.”

"Next time I wanna feel both of you come in me at the same time," you whimper. "Sweets, you goddamn slut." Steve groans with a laugh and bucks up into you harder. "Tell us more! Please! I want to hear every filthy little thought hidden inside that mind."

You turn to look at Bucky. "I want both of you in every hole. I want you to use me like I'm a toy and worship me like a queen," you tell him, then turn to Steve. "Put my name on the house and celebrate it by fucking in every room, on every surface, show me all of your kinks, give me everything."

Steve's eyes are screwed shut and he's let go of Bucky to grab your hips, pulling you down onto his big cock. "Keep going," you urge him, your release just a few thrusts away. But he's too close and before you can get there he suddenly sits up to wrap his arms around your waist, crushing you against his chest, thrusting up hard, and comes with a loud moan of your name.

You feel wild, right on the edge of ecstasy but left dangling in mid-air. With pleading eyes and a whine you look at Bucky who smirks at you before pulling you away from Steve and laying you on your back. A second later he fills you up, the sound of his cock pushing through Steve's mess is as sweet as it's nasty.

"Please, Bucky, please," you beg. "Yeah I know, don't worry, not gonna blow my load early," he taunts over his shoulder at Steve who just gives him the finger. "Understand him though, you’re so tight and warm Sweets. Makes me a bit crazy. I just want to fill you up over and over again," he confesses.

"I need to-" you begin but he cuts you off. "Rub your clit for me. Come on my cock," he demands but you know something that is even better than your own fingers and you reach out your arm.

"Steve," you plead and he crawls over to you and lays down beside you, pushing his hand in between your bodies, finding your clit. You arch off the bed with his touch, hands clutching Bucky's arms as he rams into you. The dual sensation is amazing and with how close you were seconds ago the end approaches quickly. Your moans get louder the closer you get and both Bucky and Steve praise you the whole way through.

"You sound so fucking pretty."

"I can barely move you gripping me so tight."

"You're so good at taking cock, Sweets. First mine and now Bucky's, it's like you were made for us."

You nod at the last thing and the pressure in your body is breaking, making your muscles convulse, almost pushing Bucky out with how hard you're coming, screaming their names as you do.

"Fuck! Yes, Sweets!" Bucky’s laugh is a little manic as he works you through it. "I'm going to fill our sweet little cunt with more cum." His hips stutter against you before he groans out your name and collapses on top of you. You run your fingers over his sweaty back and kiss his cheek. Then you turn to Steve, smiling at him beside you. "He's heavy," you complain.

Both of them laugh and Bucky rolls off before they move until you're squeezed in between them, their cum running down your legs, making a mess on the bed. Fortunately, you have at least two other beds to sleep in.

For a few months, you're walking on air. In a throuple with your two best friends, amazing sex, luxury beyond what you could have ever imagined. They constantly spoil you and they've tried to convince you to quit your job since you don't need to work when you're with them.

Tonight you're in another fancy restaurant. Bucky is trying to feed you chocolate cake because it's romantic but you tell him over and over again that you can eat by yourself. Suddenly Steve stiffens beside you and since he isn't known to have tells, you immediately get worried and follow his gaze.

John is standing at the door with a pretty girl on his arm, talking to the waiter and then being shown to a table. Next to yours.

When your eyes meet he stops for a second and his date shoots confused looks between the two of you, before you nod and he nods back, then moves again and sits down.

Steve asks for the check and you're out of your seat and outside the restaurant in no time. Bucky holds your coat as you put it on and a moment later Steve comes out too. His eyes are black with hate and when you're finally in the car you realize that you can't live like this.

"I think-" you begin, swallowing then clearing your throat, "I think I'm going to need those lawyers."

[neonovember]

Deceit

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics​ !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

@tinkerbelle67 @patzammit @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory@nomadstucky @nessie2183 @shamelessfangirl-3 @namelesssav @marvel-phoenix @euphoric-goddess @roseeatta @abschaffer2 @louderfortheback @stupendouslovegardener @wandamaximoff-simp @thedonswife13 @hpsimpspot @samsgirl93​ @cynic-spirit

Bucky is quiet the ride over, dark steel greys surveying the road eagerly, like he was waiting for someone, or something to give him a reason to jump out and spill blood. 

The wheel wains in his grip, and his dark hair falls over in waves, pushed back behind his ears and smelling of pine nut and mint. There's a hint of a smile on his face, he knows you're watching him.

You avert your gaze quickly, looking towards the mountain trees on either side of the asphalt road ahead.

The relief you had thought would fill you as Bucky pulls into the potholed road of your apartment is blank, and your chest fills vacant without the heat of it. Your mind is restless, and the entire ride over had given you ample time to think over everything that had happened earlier. 

You had folded and unfolded every piece of information Bucky had told you about Steve and all it had done was make you feel like you were intruding, like you were given privy to something you had no right knowing. Like peeking through the cracks under closed doors as a child listening in on their parents.

Where your street had once been busy with loitering huddles of gaunt faced men, a quiet murmur settles over the ground floor of your apartment complex, all the way up to the hallway to your place. 

And as you pass by a few stragglers who blanch when Bucky shifts his hard gaze towards them, stuttering over their own feet and rushing back to their alleyways, you have an inclination that it was all Steves doing.

His reach was absolute.

You didn’t know what to feel, you’ve known displacement for too long. 

Separating from your betrothed, separated from the life you had been half folded into, separating from the very syllabus of your name. 

The spaces between the letters get further and further as the years go by. Until you can hardly remember if your namesake is really yours, just a frightening sound that came out of your husband's mouth.

This is different though. Until now, your instinct has always been right. And yet, when you think of Steve? When you try to find footing in your gut it comes up wobbly and unsure.

Was he something more than he let on? Did he only uncover pieces of himself for his own benefit? 

Bucky had told you he had lost his own wife, and young too. Forced to be exposed to the brutality of the world before he could even get a chance to indulge in youthful recklessness. 

You feel a sense of empathy for him, but also, also surprise. It isn’t the murder, or your own husbands doing that causes a slight slip of your heart. The truth is much more foolish instead.

There was a time Steve was ready to forsake this entire life, live forever looking over his shoulder, turn back on tradition that was as deep as marrow, all for love.

You could laugh if you had remembered what that felt like. The thought outright unnerves you. Steve? The gluttonous leader who held sanctions of New York with an iron fist? 

It drives a pit in your stomach when you think too hard about what it means. 

There’s a fiery jealousy that swarms you, you had never understood the wielding power that love carried all your life. It was a feeling, just like any other was it not? 

Yet it had men like Steve falling to his knees!

And all that swarms your mind is how it’s so unfair, that you’ve never experienced such a thing. That you may never will. Forced to succumb to the life that was only half yours, down a path so far the ground had changed beneath you.

What did it feel like to give in? To show all your misgivings with unabashed apprehension? To let yourself, all of it, to another person?

Anything close to a love like that had come from the faded memories of your father, his warmth and deep gritted protectiveness over you. And that had been stripped from you quicker that you were able to forsake it.

You suppose that wasn't meant to be dealt in your cards, which you had come to understand were drawn years ago. You lie to yourself, but during some nights the aching desire to feel something, to taste the deep gripping love that had caused even Steve to lose focus explodes deep in your gut. 

Your longing for connection was something you hid well, and god didn’t you get awfully good at hiding these years? Fit yourself in nooks and crannies that were too small, smoothed out your jagged edges to click into the puzzle pieces.

And yet, the empathy you had silently shared, the intimate conversation you had had with Steve in your mind is stamped out with swiftness as Bucky walks you to your door.

That was then, now Steve had made it perfectly clear where he stood. The cool indifference and hardening this life caused had stolen any shine or hope that Steve may have held those years ago. Everything he did now was calculated, for the betterment of broadening his kingdom. 

He might as well have died along with her.

Bucky leans against the hallway, eyes surveying the decrepit halls lit by overexerted linoleum lights. You hesitate a moment, before popping your keys into your door, twisting it this way and that to get it to open.

You flinched as the door opened wide, almost like you were expecting someone to be standing right behind it, waiting for your arrival before pouncing. You’re a child, waiting for the ghoul in the closet to jump out.

Yet all that is there is the same peeling walls of your small entryway and some shoes and a coat strewn to the side in your haste to get to the diner early those days before. 

You’d much prefer the monster.

Days, it had only been days, so why did it feel like a lifetime since you stepped foot into your home? 

You don’t know what you were expecting, for your apartment to change when you had been kept away from it unceremoniously? For someone to have cleaned out the dishes lying in the sink, and ruffle the pillows lying on your old sofa? 

You had craved mundanity for so long, craved consistently at a time where you didn’t know which face of your husband you would meet those days. 

When the monster living underneath your husband's skin would jump out.

But now, you crave something more. It simmers right under your skin, deep within your chest and its shadowy fingers flutter over every inch of you.

Your apprehension is evident by the way Bucky shifts his way towards you stuttering frame.

“Hey, I wouldn't be so keen on coming home to this place either. Those carpets don’t look that inviting" Bucky replies, there is a sight lilt in his voice as he drags his eyes across your depressing furnishing.

You cut your eyes towards him, narrowing your lids.

“Not everyone lives in an exorbitant palace you know” You gruffly reply, shuffling into your door in a way that was more spite than eagerness.

Bucky breaks out in a grin that takes up half his face, his hand stuffed into his suit pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

“Talking like a woman who hasn’t done just that half her life” Bucky replies, cocking his head to the side.

Oh right, your husband's estate that took up half of the city. One that was never, and would never be in your name.

You drop your handbag onto one of the hooks attached to the hallway, turning towards Bucky with a sigh.

“That’s different” You reply evenly

“Oh yeah? How so?” Bucky murmurs, eyes shining with a smile

“I was never welcomed in that home- house. God it would never be a home no matter how many architects and designers dressed it up. You think I escaped ‘cause it was my safe haven?” You cock your head to the side and Bucky’s face evens out. The smile adorning his features morphs back into his face as a look passes through his eyes.

“You don’t have to worry about that with Steve-”

“Oh yeah? Because he is the most upfront person to talk to. Right. This place, as depressing as it looks, is solely mine. It’s the only thing I have on this goddamn earth that hasn't been mauled and changed with my husband's fingers. Or the life he leads. You might not understand it, how important that is but-”

“I do. Trust me” Bucky replies, cutting you with and he offers you a nod that was more understanding than half the world's he promised to you.

Can I? You wonder thoughtfully. Was this just a part of some elaborate plan that Rumlow had clued you on? You were everywhere all at once, topsy turvy and turned inside out. This was the life you had to live now.

“Good” You say instead, wringing your fingers as Bucky’s phone begins to buzz from his pants pocket.

You wait for him to reach for it immediately, but he doesn't, just remains quiet as he taps his foot against the hardwood floor. There seemed to be a look of understanding that passed between you when he had racked his fist against the wall adjacent to your door. 

The blues of his eyes twinkled under the sun peeking through the hallway window, and you didn’t realize it then but it was trust that shined in his eyes. Like the words he had shared with you warranted the same secrecy he held with the other men he worked with. 

You had paid in flesh and blood for your silence, what more was another pound?

The ring runs through, and the silence soon returns between you both.

“I’m not going to the mouth off to half of Brooklyn that their most influential business man likes painting” You reply with a murmur, eyes darting left and right as if neighbors were listening in. Enough of them had watched you walk to your apartment door, eyes strained on Bucky and his shoes that shine too bright. Faces that had never even said hello had craned their necks as you passed, of course. Whispers of inquisition under their breath.

“I know you won’t” Bucky replies instantly. “Just- let him explain the rest of it, yeah? ‘S only fair you hear it from him” 

“Fair?” You raise your eyebrows, “You’re talking about fairness now? Bullshit. If you were guided by some moral compass I wouldn't have been forced into this, you wouldn't even be in this life” You snark unconsciously.

Where does this all come from? You hadn't even raised an eyebrow at your husband, and now you were bad mouthing a man with a gun poking through his waistband. You look down, staring at the unusual stain in the hallway carpet you never quite knew what was. The anxiety and timidness you were used to coming back tenfold.

Bucky doesn't retaliate, just looks towards you with a feather-like smirk.

“I was wrong about you, y’know?” Bucky whispers, leaning in as if he were divulging in a secret he couldn't let be spoken in the open air.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re everything like Steve.” Bucky replies thoughtfully, a far away look taking over his dark features. 

He’s miles away, reminiscing about parts of Steve that had been left in the dark. He looks younger than, when you notice the way his eyebrows scrunch and his locks fall flat over his face. 

But it's enveloped back into Bucky in a second, a sad smile replacing his grin.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call” 

Giving you one last nod, he turns back towards the hallway entrance and it takes you a few moments before you realise.

“But I don't have your number!” You call out, leaning out your door

His brown locks shift as he turns back to you

“You sure about that?” A raise of his eyebrows at the ping of your phone, waving you with two fingers.

You don't have to pull it out to know it's him. And you can't help but let out a chuckle before turning back and shutting the door firmly.

You find yourself accompanying your time scrubbing down the floorboard and yellowed walls of your home, filling your hours since Bucky had left with meager tasks. It helps you think, concentrating on little chores around the house so you don't have to think about the thoughts that rattled loudly in your mind.

It’s still well into the morning, and as the sun filters through your drapes you lean back on your heels nodding accomplished at the glint of the shining floors. The walls were an impassive yellow, never yielding no matter what cleaning products you threw at them, but beyond the old entryway carpet the apartment was lined with pristine hardwood floors that shined with a little elbow grease.

Not that shitty huh Bucky?

Wiping the sweat that had grown increasingly uncomfortable above your brow, you make way to your small enclosed kitchenette, swiping a cup from the drying rack before you watch the water fill to its glass edge. You gulp half of it down, before your much needed break is interrupted by the faint buzzing of your phone emitted from somewhere in the living room.

You forage for it quickly, searching till you find it wedged between the cracks of your couch. You pause for a moment, considering whether it might be Bucky, or Steve calling but as you see the vibrating screen of your manager's face you slide the receiver across the screen.

You brace yourself for the inevitable screech of her voice, you haven't been to work in days, an irregular for you considering the mountain of bills that left your bank account squandered each month. You needed this job, and now Steve hand upended your life, you fear it’ll slip through your fingers.

Manager calls, you pick up, she’s very quiet and apprehensive and is all sweet in a a way you remember she never had been before. She’s almost scared to talk to you, asking about a shift you could cover and you say yea without thinking. You need a distraction. Even if Steve had made it clear you no longer needed to worry about work.

“Hello?” You reply, eyebrows furrowing at the beat of silence that fills the space usually used up by ** loud un yielding demands.

“Y/N? Hey, how are you doing” Replies carefully, as if choosing her words.

“What?” You blurt out

You can’t help the confusion that puzzles your voice, who was this person? In the months you had spent working at that dead end job not once has she ever asked how you were. Not when you had spent half your break with your head in your toilet the first few months you had escaped. A cat on edge, nerves frazzled by even the slightest heavy stamp of a dress shoe.

What had changed?

You don’t have to kid yourself, you know the answer deep down. Him, it always goddamn is.

“Sorry, uhm I’m been doing good” You reply “I apologise for kind of just disappearing on you and the Diner”

“Oh that? That’s totally fine, once your friends cleared that up” 8 gulped, the sharp exhale of breath filling the receiver at the mention of this friend of yours.

“Friend?” You reply

“Don’t worry about it, I’m glad your doing alright. Uh-, so uhm ’s sister dropped her kids off at 4am last night at hers, she cant her shift. And * got SAT prep. Can you fill in if possible it’s totally okay if you can’t, I needed to stay back a few anyway-”

“Sure” 

You needed the distraction, you felt stifled in the walls of your apartment. It wasn’t meant to be a prison, and yet the only time you felt truly free now was when you slammed the door behind you.

“-oh, Oh thank you! Thank you so much. If you could come in at 12, it’s just the afternoon shift. And if you need to leave for whatever reason it’s totally fine you don’t even have to tell me-“

“Mare?

“Yes?”

“Relax. I miss the diner and it’s crappy linoleum lights anyways”

Mare snorts into the receiver “The teams missing you too”

After passing a few more instructions on the wave of Russian tourists coming through Brooklyn this time of year you let your phone clatter onto the coffee table.

Sure, your manager could be a pain in the ass but being passive aggressive didn’t warrant a mob leader holding you at gunpoint.

You wonder what Steve had said to her to cause her to be this shaken up, she was the most stubborn woman you’ve ever met. It couldn’t have been easy to have her yield, at least not without some sort of real threat.

Especially in New York.

You rifle through your bag before grabbing your work uniform. The musty smell of old oil and grease makes you throw it haphazardly into the laundry basket before reaching for a clean shirt.

You try to look presentable, washing your face with the bathroom tap that never not juts out cold water. You avoid your reflection when you pay your face dry, which is interestingly enough, hard to do since it’s well..your face.

Drawing the wisps of coils that spring free you pull your hair back into a bun. You don’t bother with makeup, it never quite sat right on your face when you did it. Reaching for your bag and throwing your phone and the rest of your miscellaneous, you hurry down the steps of your apartment complex. 

Popping in your earphones as you step into the train carriage, you memorise the dock and pull of the train ride till you feel your stop. Your music swims through your veins, and you breathe it in before opening your eyes to the tram doors opening.

[soft-and-bitter]

Failed Bargaining (Drabble)

Mob Boss!Steve x Introvert!Reader

Steve would go to any length in order to have you, and that worried you. A lot.

Warning(s): swearing

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving some feedback, thanks! ❤

Steve made you nervous the very first time you set eyes on him. Because as soon as you did, you knew just how far apart your worlds were. Every fibre of his being exuded unbridled wealth and glamour, but there was more to it too, simmering beneath it all: shades of darkness you didn't think you wanted to delve into.

Apparently Steve shared none of your sentiments.

You stared at the necklace dangling before you, brows knitted. "Um, what's this?" you ask, even though you knew perfectly well what it was. While awaiting the next course, the others present at your surprise birthday dinner had, fortunately, fallen into their own worlds, deep in conversation about anything other than what was going on now between the two of you.

"A birthday present, of course," he responded, his smile never faltering. "Just one of many for my sweet girl."

It was a simple design—nothing ostentatious, thank god, but you were highly skeptical of its cost, not to mention its provenance. You may not have known Steve that long, but observation, coupled with Sharon's anecdotes, taught you that Steve never did anything in half-measures.

"You didn't have to," you tried to protest, but he was already sweeping your hair over one shoulder to gain access to your nape.

Steve chuckled softly, wrapping the delicate necklace around your neck. "But I wanted to, sweetheart. And that's what matters."

The pet names worried you just as much as the gift. Everything was moving way too fast, this . . . thing, whatever it was, between the two of you. Steve had materialized into your life out of the blue, and now suddenly it felt like he was everywhere, in every corner you inhabited, like he'd always been there. Never mind that you still had no idea what he did for a living.

His birthday gift, cold and heavy against your skin, only drove the message home. If you thought you were doing things casually, Steve wasn't having it.

Fuck.

Steve played with the gold chain of your necklace before dropping a kiss tenderly on your shoulder. "It's beautiful on you," he remarked, fingers ghosting along your collarbone. "You're never going to take this off. Promise?"

You blinked at him once, twice. His command took you aback, the gravity in his tone so different from anything you experienced. Steve watched you expectantly, his blue eyes bright.

"Steve, listen," you began, one hand covering his own as you tried to stop his fingers from exploring further. "This is all amazing, it is, but, um . . . don't you think we might be moving a bit too fast here?"

You feared he'd take offence to that, but his smile said otherwise.

"Sweetheart, we're not moving fast enough."

Just something quick and short to get me back in the swing of things. I do consider this part of a bigger story I've been cooking up, so let me know what you think! Do y'all want more?

[sluttylittlewaistenthusiast]

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@mellowsaturns

⭒ No Place Like Home

a sweet moment with steve when you come home tired and sleepy

⭒ Make A Wish

it's steve's birthday so you give him a present or two… maybe three.

@sunvmars

⭒ Only You

only a few weeks after a breakup, you go out for the night with the team. steve doesn’t show up, and he’s been purposefully not showing up to anything non-work related after the breakup. however, tonight you drink a little too much, and insist that steve pick you up.

@espinosaurusrexex

⭒ Watchful Eyes

When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.

@moonvis

⭒ Always Been You

Being in love with Steve Rogers isn’t easy with all the dates Natasha sets him up with. One day you’ve had enough and ask her to set you up, something you’ve never let her before – and a certain blonde isn’t too pleased.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nero Rose || Mob!Steve Rogers

Character: Mob!Steve Rogers x Detective!Reader

Warning: None

Words Count: 1,539

Summary: She has bad blood towards the famous gangster leader called Steve Rogers. With his influences, he sent her to the outskirts city. Then one day, you received a called that said Steve Rogers wanted to talk to you. When you come back and meet him again, something terrible happens. 

This is the story of the enemy-to-lovers.

A/N: Reblog and any feedback are much appreciated. I love reading all your comments. 💖😘

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

A crowded street, sounds of car horns, smell of piss. All the little things made you miss New York.

It's been 8 months since you left the city. It wasn't your choice to be exact. You left because the head of the police demoted you from detective to traffic police. 

You want to protest but it's impossible since your opponent is the powerful mob in the city. 

Steve Rogers is the king of the mafia. His power in business, politics and network in the underworld made him unbeatable. No one can bring him down. 

Until you did. 

You found the drugs and weapons that connected to Rogers. You got him good. And the media and citizens also support you. 

But you have no support when it comes to law and politics. The almighty Steve Rogers has given money to the judge and governor that could give them a third family. He also paid the best lawyer. 

In the end, he only spent 3 nights in jail and went home. While you got sent to the outskirts city. You hate your boss and everyone. It took a while for you to accept the new life you have.

When you started to let it go, you suddenly got a call from the chief of police. 

-Flashback Start-

He said, "Steve Rogers got stabbed."

You don't understand what's the point he told you this "Cheers for me. You want me to attend his funeral? I will wear white."

"He's still alive."

You scoffed "Too bad."

"He's a victim but he doesn't want to talk. He said that he only wants to talk to you."

-Flashback End-

That's why you return to New York. You want to see the look on his face, being pale and weak after getting hurt.

But before that, you're going to buy flowers. A gift for sick patients. You picked a perfect one for him. At the flower shop, you pointed at one flower. "I want that one."

The shop employee is an elderly woman. Her name is Sienna. You've known her since you were a kid. She's a joyful and funny grandma. 

Sienna raised her eyebrows and looked at the flower you chose. She picked the flowers one by one. "That's an odd choice to visit a sick person. It means 'You're dead to me.'"

You smirked "Is that what it means? Even better." 

You gave her the money after you received the flower bucket. "You're the best Sienna. I'll see you tomorrow."

She gave a warm smile "Bye, Y/N ."

You arrived at the hospital and immediately saw one of his trusted right hands. Bucky Barnes. He's standing outside while smoking. 

He put out his cigarette when he saw you "Detective Y/N."

You rolled your eyes "Fuck off. Where is he?"

Bucky scoffed and brought you to the VIP room. Before he opened the door, you could hear people talking, and laughing from inside the room. 

When the door got open, and you walked inside, everyone turned silent and looked at you. All of them are wearing black suits. 

8 months without seeing any mafia made you forget that you just entered enemy territory.

You gathered any courage that you had and walked towards the patient. You expect Steve to be pale, weak, and lying motionless on his bed since he got stabbed.

But your expectations betrayed you. In front of you, Steve Rogers is sitting like a boss with a half robe opened that shows his torsos tattoos. His hair even got combed to the back. He doesn't look sick.

"Aww, you bring me a gift. Thank you detective Y/N."

There it is. He always finds a way to make you angry. He knew you're not a detective anymore. You hate to admit it, even though he's a jerk, gangster, and narcissist. His face and his body are your type. 

Many fish in the sea but why do you have to like a man like him?

You clicked your tongue and then gave the flower to him "I ordered this for your funeral to be honest."

"Thank you doll." He handed the flower to his subordinate. "Did you buy this from the Sienna flower shop?"

"How did you know?"

"From the wrapping paper, the ribbon. I'm her loyal customer." He winked at you.

Well, that's something you learned from him. Perhaps he bought flowers for his girlfriend. 

You cleared your throat then grabbed a note and pencil from the pocket of your leather jacket.

"So what kind of person would dare to stab the gangster leader? That culprit must be crazy or a serial killer."

Suddenly the room turned quiet. Everyone is looking at you, including Steve. 

"You're right. Not even my rival dared to pick a fight with me. I could feel it. It's not them."

You crossed your arms "Why did you ask me to come here?"

"Since you left the city is not safe anymore. See? I got hurt. And, perhaps I missed the time we spent together."

You gritted your teeth. Geez, his words could make anyone misunderstood. The moment you spend with him is at the court or police station. 

The police station became an event. Paparazzi is always there, the media, he even invites a private chef to bring his lunch and dinner.

When you interrogate him, he always has wine beside him. It's impossible to make him stop since he got the best lawyer Matt Murdock. The famous lawyer who defends crooked people and always wins. 

You should've known that you have lost. 

"Enough with the jokes. What do you want?"

"I'm offering you a chance to come back. I want you to investigate my case."

"Why?"

Steve tilted his head a bit  "Because… I don't know. Maybe because I like playing with you."

You raised your voice "So you made me fly 4 hours to come here just for this?!!!"

Steve nodded. 

Oh, how he loves to see you being mad. That's his plan from the beginning. He still holds the grudge for you to make him stay in jail for three nights. 

-Flashback Start-

Steve was furious for sure when he got the letter from the court. He is the mobster leader in the city. How come a newcomer detective like you has the guts to put him to jail?

The audacity of ungrateful people. What's the point of bribing the police every month? They should've put a good leash on their member. 

Every second and every minute all he can think about is what he should do with you if both of you meet. Quick death or slow death. 

But he thinks of another plan when he finally meets you face to face. You're a new sheriff in the town. He wonders what kind of brilliant mind you have that made you able to catch him. 

When you interrogated him, you were fierce and fearless. Even the chief of the police told you to calm down but you wouldn't listen. 

Since that moment you got him interested. 

-Flashback End-

You suddenly stood up and sighed "If I had my gun, you would be bleeding right now."

"Is that a threat detective? Because I'm scared."

Bucky shook his head by looking at both of you. He turned his head to watch the TV. He widened his eyes when he saw the headline news. 

He turned up the volume "Steve, you should see this."

Both of you stopped arguing and looked at the TV. 

"Breaking news. Another stabbed victim at the well known flower shop called Sienna Flower's. The victim is a 77 years old female. Witnesses said the victim was closing the shop when she got stabbed. The paramedics informed us that the victim got stabbed on the chest and lost her life on the way to the hospital."

You gasped. "Sienna." You couldn't believe it. You just left the shop for an hour and something terrible happened. You lost your old friend. 

On your left, Steve only sees red. He clenched his fist. Sienna is a sweet old lady. His mother always went there and he always bought flowers from that shop for his mother.  

What kind of heartless person wants to hurt a kind person like Sienna? He will chase the culprit until the end of the earth.

"Boys."

"YES BOSS!!!"

"Gather everyone to check on that area. Everyone gathered all the information. I will kill that person by myself."

All his subordinates left the room after they got the order. 

After they left, Steve tried to stand up from his bed "Urgh." 

When he touches his left waist, you finally see his wound. It's still bleeding.

"Are you crazy? You can't move yet."

You're right. The stabbed wound was deep. If the painkiller runs out, this wound will be painful. The doctor told Steve that couldn't move his body freely for a week. And he doesn't want to get another stitch. 

Suddenly he got an idea. 

Steve leaned his body towards you and whispered in your ear, "Detective do you want to work together to catch who killed Sienna?"

You looked at his eyes. It never crossed your mind to work together with gangster leaders like Steve Rogers. But with his mafia connections, you could catch the culprits quicker. 

"Heck yeah."

A/N: Reblog and any feedback are much appreciated. I love reading all your comments. 💖😘

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

[natashadied4oursins]

Nice Like That (Steve x Reader)

Pairing: Soft Mafia!Steve x Female Reader/OC

Summary: Steve’s musings about a life-changing decision he’s made for his lady.

Author’s Notes: Third person POV. Reader not in scene. It’s just Steve alone in his office thinking/reminiscing.

Warnings: swearing, controlling Steve, protective Steve, possessive Steve, stalking, premarital sex (oh no!)

Word count: 1580

Nice Like That

Steve leaned back in his office chair with a satisfied smirk, his feet propped on his desk. Anyone seeing his face would think he’d just made some shrewd, calculated business move on the chessboard that was the New York City mafia world when inside he was as giddy as a motherfucking school boy. He’d decided the woman he’d been seeing for the last couple of weeks would move in with him that afternoon. He ordered Sam to pack up her stuff from her dingy apartment and take care of any financial penalties that might accrue with her landlord and roommates. He was nice like that.

The impact that woman had on him was so unexpected when he saw her dancing with her girlfriends at one of his clubs. She was more than just pretty; she was sexy even in a green sundress similar to the dresses he’d sworn he’d seen the ladies at church wear. She stood out—not because she wore such a modest dress, but because of the way said dress hugged her tits, hips, and the top of her ass; her curves just refused to be hidden away.

She didn’t seem like a regular club-goer, but she sure was having fun with her girls. She was laughing, waving her arms in the air, and swaying her hips. She wasn’t much of a dancer, but he loved watching her just the same. She jumped giggling when he lightly touched her hips from behind. She turned meeting his eyes, and she became quiet, her lips giving a hint of a smile.

It took him a bit longer than it should’ve to stop staring and lower his lips next to her ear to ask her to dance. Now, Steve Rogers does not ask girls to dance. No. He just grabs their hips and dances with them and they are usually all for it. No big deal. This girl was way too classy for that…in her twenty-dollar-Target-looking dress.

It was funny. She tried to appear so cool and confident--even though she gulped when his breath was on her skin when he asked her to dance--and she answered his question with a nonchalant shrug and a cute little smirk. Her breath hitched when he pulled her body close to his. He respected the effort. He was used to people trying to look tough around him. He liked catching her off guard. He liked feeling her shudder under his touch.

He made out with her in the VIP section while her friends ordered whatever they wanted a few feet away. He convinced her to go home with him before he got too riled up and had to have her sit on his dick right there and then. He’d told himself she’d just be a quick lay, but deep down he knew it was bullshit. Instead, he ended up spending the entire weekend in bed with her at his estate.

Steve had talked her into calling in sick that weekend, but he couldn’t convince her to quit her job so he’d be able to see her more. He’d promised to pay her bills for a whole fricking year, but she said she didn’t need a sugar daddy. He made sure to get Little Miss Independent’s number before dropping her off at her place. He didn’t last five fucking minutes before calling her about having dinner with him at one of his restaurants the following night. He had Bucky rearrange his schedule—it must’ve been a pain in the ass and he was sure he pissed off a few people, but Steve had to see her again.

He sent a nice blue, flowy chiffon dress to her apartment ahead of time for her to wear to the restaurant. He didn’t care what she wore, but he didn’t want her to feel out of place. He just knew what pricks rich people could be--even though none would dare openly insult any lady on Steve Rogers’ arm, especially in his own restaurant.

She actually thanked him for the dress because she didn’t have anything to wear to such a fancy place. He was relieved she didn’t feel insulted, and now he knew there were some gifts she’d accept from him. She was stunning and even turned a few heads making Steve both proud and irritated anyone would look at his lady. That’s right—his lady.

He had her talk about herself during dinner; he wanted to know everything about her. (They hadn’t done a lot of talking during their weekend together.) He’d also had Sam do a thorough background check on her, but the file was still in his office unread. It somehow felt wrong to read it just before their date—like it’d be invading her privacy or something. He’d also had Bucky follow her around to gather more information about her daily life and routine…and to make sure no one touched what was his.

When Steve asked her to dance, she reluctantly agreed warning him she wasn’t a good dancer. He knew; he didn’t care. “You looked pretty good dancing at my club last Friday,” he couldn’t help but tease. She actually blushed. He’d seen her naked for an entire weekend, but she was anxious about where to put her feet while she was covered up in some classy, flowy dress that highlighted all her curves? It was adorable.

Steve just wanted to hold her again, so dancing seemed like the logical solution. He didn’t want her to think he just wanted sex from her. He wanted her. He knew he was falling hard for her like some pathetic schmuck, but he just couldn’t bring himself to give a fuck.

He wanted all of her. It was cheesy, but he wanted to keep her deepest secrets, banish her insecurities and fears; he wanted her to tell him her hopes and dreams so he could make them come to life. He wanted everything. He wanted to give her everything.

She’d flinched when he put his hand on her hip. He smiled remembering how rough they’d been with each other that last weekend. She was probably still sore other places too. He had his own reminders--she actually drew blood during the many times her nails dug along his back during their time together.

With what she told him, and the information Sam and Bucky gathered, Steve learned that she lived with roommates she found online and worked as a waitress at one of those 24-hour diners. (He did not like the thought of her working overnight--vulnerable to shady customers). She’d been a foster kid who’d struggled a lot in school. He’d known foster kids growing up in his neighborhood, and Sam, a former counselor, confirmed it was common for foster kids to have their education “disrupted.” The fact that she was putting herself through college in her late twenties impressed Steve. She was tough and resilient, and he was so proud of her.

Steve also learned she volunteered with current foster kids, and she occasionally worked at a homeless soup kitchen. He couldn’t believe how fucking pure she was! She was definitely too good for him. He almost felt guilty for dragging her into his world. Almost. As much as he admired and respected her, he was a selfish bastard and there was no way he was going to let her go. She belonged to him now.

The thought of not coming home to her every night after a long day of making deals, busting skulls, reining in hotheads and bribing politicians then waking up next to her and making love to her every morning and do the whole thing over again solidified his decision. There was no way he was going to deprive himself of her sweet comfort.

He’d have to limit her excursions and have a bodyguard with her at all times—maybe Romanoff or Belova or both--he had to protect his girl. He was happy to let her continue some of her volunteering on top of letting her finish school since both were so important to her. That way she’d have a life outside their home—he was nice like that.

Steve would have to be patient and understanding with her. She’d be in shock from the sudden move to his house and his world. Yes, her movements would be limited because of how dangerous his world was, but she’d also want for nothing—all she’d have to do is snap her pretty little fingers and he’d fetch whatever she wanted like a goddamn golden retriever.

He’d give her her dream wedding even if it took months to plan—if it was up to him, they’d get married at the court house that very day. He was even willing to wait until she finished her degree before getting her pregnant. (She'd be such a good mother!) He was nice like that. She was a smart girl; she’d adjust eventually and he’d be with her every step of the way.

Steve checked the time. She would be leaving work soon and would be at her apartment in the next hour or so. He’d had Bucky reschedule his business dinner that evening so he could meet her at her—now former—apartment. It was only polite to tell her in person that she’d be moving in with him and that she’d be spending the rest of her life with him. He was nice like that.

[steviebbboi]

MobSteve that I just cannot shake omg 🫨

Chain You Up.

Mob!Steve x Stripper!Reader (one-shot)

Run-through: You have a flirty relationship with a bad man. One who has a corrupted heart and so many skeletons in his closet that he never bothers to hide them anymore. Steve Rogers; infamous mob boss, owner of the club you worked at and also the one who could make you purr like a kitten so easily. Whatever you both had going on was always playful and momentary, until it wasn’t. One night, you actually witness the mob boss in action. In those fleeting seconds, you realized that there was no way things could go back to how they used to be… 

Themes: smut, stripper!reader, explicit language, mild daddy kink, violence and death (not graphic)

“Look, your man is here again.” 

“Seriously, that man is so obsessed with you.” 

“I wish I also had a regular who was that good looking and loaded.” 

Keep reading

[veltana]

Divergent Mafia AU - Steve/Reader

This is like a divergent, extra thing I needed to get out when I wrote Bucky's break-up.

Steve and Reader are laying in bed, listening to Bucky have sex and help each other out.

NSFW-ish. Grinding.

"How does he even do it?" Steve sounds a little amazed as you both lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. "Drugs?" you ask. "Honestly, it has to be, how else is he going at it all the time like that?" "Maybe they're all faking it?" you suggest. "I've never heard anyone complain about him," Steve shrugs "But I mean statistically he can’t get it right for everyone every time." "If he does, he is one of a kind," you decide. "Tempted to go for a ride?" you hear the smile in Steve's voice without even looking.

You shrug but you would be lying if you told Steve that you weren't curious. Not only did the women sound pleased but Bucky’s sounds could be heard through the walls too and his deep voice moaning out how fucking good it felt had you tempted to touch yourself while listening to them.

When you don't answer Steve rolls on top of you, resting his hands beside your head, his thighs pressing your legs wide, clearly displaying the hard cock in his gray sweatpants. With your lower lip between your teeth, you lift your hips to meet his and when he moves against you, quiet moans come from both of you.

You stare at each other as he ruts against you and all you want to do is pull off your pajamas, yank down his pants, guide him into you, and let him fuck you until you're screaming louder than Bucky’s girl. But instead, you wrap your legs around his hips and press harder against him, bowing your back, trying to find the best angle. There are no kisses, this isn't that kind of thing, this is just two friends helping each other out with a common problem.

Steve drops his head, his arms shaking a little, he's probably close but so are you. Almost a week of imaging Bucky fucking and listening to every sound has got you on edge.

"Yes, Steve!" you hiss as color explodes behind your eyes and a familiar feeling flushes your body. Steve shudders out a moan and the front of his pants turns a darker shade of gray. Then he's laying next to you again, both of you breathing heavily.

"We should talk to him," you yawn when you hear the front door slam shut.

"I need to sleep," Steve says and reaches for you. Hugging you close before you both fall asleep.

[neonovember]

Two Coffee’s

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics​ !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

@tinkerbelle67 @patzammit @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @nomadstucky @nessie2183 @shamelessfangirl-3 @namelesssav @marvel-phoenix @euphoric-goddess @roseeatta @abschaffer2  @louderfortheback @stupendouslovegardener @wandamaximoff-simp

It had been several weeks since you and Steve got into a routine, you would meet with him to discuss your husband, and he would be the omnipresent blanket of protection in the form of brooding men in dark cars stationed outside your apartment, the diner, your favourite coffee shop. His presence was present in every vessel and part of your life now, and it seems crazy that just 3 weeks ago you hadn't even down the man.

Now it was like he never left. Now it was like he was a part of your routine.

It’s that thought that lingers as you step outside the diner doors and into the chilly afternoon of the Brooklyn streets. With two cups of steaming coffee in hand, you march with a newfound determination towards the indiscreet black sedan that had been parked on the diner sidewalk since you walked through the doors that morning.

They may not speak to you directly, but you couldn’t find the heart to let them sit around for hours on end with nothing but the car heater and a carton of OJ. Especially against the winter breeze that felt like iced knives against your trembling skin.

You tap on the tinted glass gently, scrutinising the reflection that looked too exhausted and angry to really be you. There is a scuffle before the window is sliding until it reaches a quarter down. The man takes a moment to stare you down, hazel brown eyes with deep burly brows eyeing you before recognition clicks in him.

You’re Steves.

He looks at you expectedly, and you remember why you’re here in the first place, the borderline boiling coffee cups going unnoticed by your freezing hands.

You raise them up with a smile, and his eyes flicker to them. The man sitting in the driver's seat next to him bops his head as he catches your eye. Reaching across the brooding man whose stumbled jaw is currently working itself a beat, the man across from him with light eyes cracks an apologetic smile at his friend before accepting the coffee with a nod.

You don’t miss the bristled expression that adores the man as you hand his partner the drinks, all you can do is smile tightly before the window is sealed shut once again, and the only thing meeting your eyes is your reflection itself.

— -

“3 club sandwiches for table 18 hun, and ask if they'd like today’s apricot cobbler,” Caroline says in a rushed voice as she tied back the loose strands of hair escaping from a not-so-neat ponytail.

“You leaving already?” You reply mournfully, as you watch her sneak a few pastries into her duffel bag.

She whips her head up to look at you, her smile pulled down into a pouting frown

“Aww are you gonna mwiss me?” Caroline bubbles out in a screeching high baby voice.

“Ugh, you know I hate when you do that”

“Why do you think I do it” Caroline replies swiftly, wagging her eyebrows playfully

“Seriously though, I’m the only one on shift for the next” You pull up your sleeve to check your invisible watch “4 hours” You moan, following her as she rummages around the back kitchen searching for her phone charger.

A sound of trump escapes her throat as she eyes the hidden wire under a box of napkins

“No can do my beloved, Ron’s asked me over tonight. I think this time he's finally gonna give in” Caroline replies, as she looks over her shoulder smiling at me.

“You and that man. Jesus Caroline, you know it would be a bit easier to date someone..uh I don't know not married?” You gruff, shaking your head disapprovingly.

Caroline turn’s to you, rolling her eyes half-heartedly

“Not everyone can have Brooklyn's hottest mafia slash bachelor slash billionaire wrapped around our finger” Caroline replies, before laughing at your bugging eyes

I told you to keep that on the low dammit!” You hush at her with your hands, eyes searching the empty kitchen in case of eavesdroppers, or men donned in black. Either one scared the crap out of you.

“You know I would never tell a sole, these lips are sealed” Caroline replies, doing a zipping motion with her fingers

‘Yeah yeah, I do. I just wished you were here in case they- he shows up, you know?” You reply softly, gulping down the fear of even thinking of his name.

A look of recognition comes over Caroline’s features, before it is soon replaced with a fury that screams only fierce loyalty and bad decisions.

“Swear to god, if I ever see that man I’m putting a bullet through his skull” Caroline replies, her auburn brows furrowing with a look of determination that almost had you believing her.

“Mhm, with what? A silicon spatula?” You reply, eyebrows clocking up in disbelief, you used humour to mask all your emotions, not just the messed up ones.

“I was thinking a 47 Remington, maybe a shotgun! If I could just saw off the handle, I think it would look pretty good down his throat, don’t  you?” Caroline smiles with that innocent look, her eyes shining and her cheeks pushing out the dimples on her left side.

“I would pay to see that” You giggle, before pouting your face as she gathers her bag

“You have Hazel on shift don't ya?” She replies as she notices your kicked-dog expression

“Yeah, but she's as helpful as a sac of potatoes. Too busy talking to Daniel to be of any help” You sigh, swiping a hand across your forehead

At the mention of her name, your eyes watch the young waitress leaning over the kitchen counter, loud boisterous laughter leaving her red rubbery lips as she tries and fails to cover her mouth. Her nails are painted a mossy green but are chipped from her constant biting, and every step of hers jingles from the beady jewellery that adorns her neck and ears.

She had gotten the job in less than a day, and spent less time serving customers than she did suggesting songs for Daniel's busted speaker. The power of connections and a pretty face ran especially deep in the service industry.

Being the restaurant manager’s neice also helped.

Caroline turns to you, shaving her hands in your face to squeeze your cheeks

“Worrin’ will give you wrinkles. She’ll help if she knows you need it. Problem is you never ask don't you?” Caroline replies, unwrapping her apron from her waist and hanging it onto the encrusted wooden hooker.

There was truth to Caroline's words, no matter how much you despised them. All your life you had to rely on yourself, didn't matter if you were in the dusty cabin of your mother's home or the ceiling-high walls of your husband's manor. hell accepting even Steves's proposal felt like pulling teeth, despite every day prior wearing you thin with the lack of protection you held walking through the streets of Brooklyn. You'd taken to wearing a hood most days quicker than you did accept Steve's protection.

“Okay well, women in society have largely been told that they are not allowed to age, so guess my wording is really just a fuck you to the world”. You reply, following her out the back kitchen and down the coordinator to the front counter.

Caroline's laugh echoes through the diner, as she smiles across at you.

“There is hope for us yet” She grins, saying a quick bye to Daniel before slamming the diner door behind her.

Not before screaming out to the bustling street side

“Ya hear that world? Y/N says a big FUCK you” 

All you can do is smile brightly as the diner chimes jingle into the growing murmur of the Sunday lunch rush streaming from the diner booth surrounding you.

-- -

“When’s the last time you got laid, Steve?” Rumlows voice echoes in the large office, it's like sandpaper, that voice of his, and it irritates the raging headache pressing against Steve’s temple.

Steve scoffs back a disgruntled noise, shaking his head before flicking through the folded stack of papers left on his desk that morning.

“No, I mean it, they’re usually a sea of women that leave your floor, what happened?” Rumlow edges him, those busy eyebrows rising up in expectation, his bulky frame sitting hunched on the velvet chair across Steve’s.

Steve’s eyes flicker across to Rumlow, searching his face before drifting down to catch the seared tattoo peaking from his rolled sleeve. Rumlow had once been integrated into one of New York's more violent and unstable crime syndicates, the kind that dealt with human trafficking and selling girls like fucking stables.

Steve was already weary of his often violent and ill-tempered mood, the kind that ended up boiling into violent outbursts. But he needed men at the time, and Rumlow was like a trained dog, so he bit back his resignation and enveloped him into the family.

Oh, how he grew to regret it.

“I’m busy, alright, gotta keep fucking Brooklyn from sinking” Steve replies without looking up from his work, swift signature flying over the dotted lines of dock payments and shipments from Budapest.

Rumlow hums, folding his arms across his chest thoughtfully, his eyes linger on Steve’s, analysing him carefully.

“You’re fucking her aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“That girl you’ve got us looking after, a goddamn wife, you know what he’ll do to us if he finds out we’ve got his little wife knee-deep in our shit?” Rumlow spits out, venom lacing his tone as his eyes glint with a certain fire.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Steve’s voice bellow from deep within his chest, but his face is unmoving, his features set in stone that refused to wither into clay.

“C'mon Steve, I know she’s a fine piece of ass but is she really that fucking worth it? I mean you’re putting a lot on stake for some tits-“. Before Rumlow can finish his sentence, a loud crunch envelops the room, Steve's fist flying into Rumlows mouth as he shatters his face.

The immediate scream of pain and anguish fills the room, as blood begins squirting out of  Rumlows nose, spilling down his white shirt and staining it further, Steve has to restrain himself from killing the man for the way he talked about you.

The sound of Rumlows wheezing whimpers is drowned out by the loud stomps of boots against the hallway floors. The door opens with a thunk, slamming into the wall behind it before Bucky steps into the bloodied scene of Steve’s office.

“Fuck sake Steve” Bucky grunts, as his eyes reach Rumlows crouched position on the floor, holding a hand to his nose to try and seize the blood oozing from the imprint of Steve’s fist.

“Clean that shit up” Steve replies before wiping away the blood off his knuckles with a cloth towel, throwing it towards Rumlow.

“You don’t ever speak to her that way alright? Let this be a warning to all of you, what’s my business with her is just that, my own” Steve snarks, flicking off the splatters of blood that landed on his cufflinks.

Rumlow shuffles awkwardly, reaching for the rag with a blind hand before limping out of the office, his dignity and ego left in the pool of blood staining the plush carpet.

Bucky steps closer, his hands shoved into his pocket as he stares unblinking at the stained carpet.

Steve looks towards him, muttering profanities under his breath as he smooths out the wrinkles in his suit.

“What?” Steve asks Bucky, watching on as his closest friend refuses to meet his eye.

“When you have us shuffle in on rotation to watch her like some fucking fast food gig, you don’t think they’ll be asking questions??” Bucky murmurs

“That isn’t why I asked you to watch her now, is it? They're my closest men-you’re my closest man, and you want to question me? Bucky when have I ever done anything stupid? Huh?” Steve replies, eyes searching through the disappointment that covers Bucky’s face.

“Never, but I think you’re about to start now” Bucky replies, anger lacing his tone as he moves out of the room.

As much as it pained him to admit it, there was truth to Rumlow’s words, Steve had made a name for himself as a notorious bachelor who never slept with the same girl twice. He found a certain addiction in the debauchery of sex, but it was never love. Steve fucked because he liked to hear the sound of his name screamed into the city skies, watching the women he’d bring home unravel before him.

Now though, Steve has to take a moment to consider that his bed was left cold through most nights, the mantel and throne of the mafia king consuming him.

-- -

Pushing through the swinging doors of the diner restrooms, you cough out a gag as you breathe a lungful of air sharply. The diner's bathrooms were usually a mess by the time you closed your doors but god did it seem so much worse today.

Your eyes survey the diner for the crowds of patrons that usually occupied the leather booths but find them empty instead, a few drizzled customers sipping a coffee before folding their newspapers and making their way out.

The sun had dipped into the horizon soon after you had walked through the bathroom stalls, but the winter months caused the night to come quicker than ever, basking the outside with a darkness you can't help but shudder against.

Collecting the diner menus, you shove them into the shelving compartment situated near the doors, and as you reach for a washcloth a sudden feeling of eyes searing holes into your back envelops your senses. It feels like you’re being watched, and it feels like you're just now noticing, the suddenly ominous atmosphere created by the foggy darkness outside causing you to gulp. You crane your neck slowly to search for those pair of eyes, but all you can see is your manager’s head bobbing up from the diner counter.

She gestures with a nod for you to come over, and you discard the washcloth on the table before meeting her eyes.

‘I’m going to head out, just serve the last few customers and lock up for me.” Mare replies, wiping a hadn't across her face as she slings a bag across her back.

“Where did Hazel go?” You reply as you notice her absence from the kitchen

“Oh, she had to attend this party or something so I gave her the rest of the night off” Mare replies nonchalantly.

You have to dig your diners into your thigh to stop from throwing a sharp remark. You had to beg Mare to let you stay home after you’d got that flu going around the city, and even then you had to make it up in overtime. And now she was leaving you to clean up the diner all on your own, so much for a positive working environment.

You think about stealing from the register just to spite her, but you know she would find out either way and then you'd be rotting in a jail cell with an officer calling for your husband to come to pick you up and throw you back into your other living hell.

So you bite your tongue and bid her farewell as she exited the diner without a second look.

You register her words soon after, customers? But you had sworn all of them had filed out hours ago. It’s then that you noticed the hunched figure almost lying over the diner counters, and you move swiftly to reach his stool.

The man from before is perched on one of the diner stools, his grip pressing into the counter until his hands were knuckle white. A stringy black wooden jacket now adores his body, a stark difference from the deep coal black of his tailored suit in that car hours ago. It obscures half his face, scrunched up to cover his nose and mouth.

His eyes dart across the now empty diner booths, ears catching every sound like a hawk, the scar stretching across his face like a white hand pinched and relaxed with every turn of his head. 

He’s hiding from something that you know, but you also know he isn't a man to particularly be afraid of getting caught.

Stepping towards him with a tentative shuffle of your feet, you grip your notepad tight around your hand, a tight smile gracing your features as he slowly rises his head from your scuffled converse to meet your eyes.

“What can- what can I get you?” You gulp down the nervousness from your voice, there’s nothing to be afraid of. He wouldn't hurt you- he can’t, Steve had promised. And you don't know why but you take it his word is as good as gold.

“Just a coffee honey, just like the one from before” The man replies, a dead look in his eyes as you note down his order.

“Nothing to eat? I can’t promise you a fresh meal, but we’ve got a few sandwiches I could heat up for you” You reply, you ask just because it's customary, but god you wished he could be out any sooner.

“Haven’t got the appetite ‘m afraid” The man replies, a smile cracks over the ice of his features, that same jagged white scar folding across his face. There's a glint in his eyes that shine against the diner's fluorescent lights, like he knows something you don’t and it scares you to no end.

You nod slowly, before quickly shuffling your body to get behind the kitchen counter. Reaching for a clean ceramic mug, you make quick work of pouring a fresh batch of espresso into the mug, the black liquid swirls like a whirlpool, steam rising from the cup so you have to carry it gently towards his seat. You feel his eyes on you the entire time, and your hands shake a little as you place it out in front of him.

“Anything else?” You say, rocking on the ball of your feet as you watch him carefully.

“I’m all set, thank you” The man smiles up at you, and your eyes furrow at the disingenuous smile that fits all too big on his face, its almost disprorpoatnte like a Halloween mask, all white teeth and dead eyes.

“I would appreciate it if you could join me, however..?” The man adds, eyes meeting yours that burn into you intensely, he still wears that same Cheshire smile, but his eyes, his eyes almost challenge you to say no. To see what would become of you if you did.

“Uhm..I’m on the clock, can’t be chattin’ when I'm meant to be..” You reply, trying to find the right words to say.

“Serving..customers?” The man clocks his eyebrow, turning around to gesture to the empty diner.

“There hasn't been a soul hat walked through those doors ever since you took your little bathroom break honey, so how about you make my crap day just a little brighter by sittin’ with me?” The man frames his proposal like a question, but you know the way he grips the counter tight that he means it as a command.

There is a beat of silence, of you just staring at him, trying to conceal your growing fear before your eyes dart to the diner doors. He catches your eye line, and coughs out a wheezing chuckle, clocking his head to the side.

“You aren’t that dumb, are you?” The man replies in a condescending tone, and you let your failure weigh down your shoulders.

“Follow me” The man replies with a smile, gathering his coffee mug with one hand before pressing the other to the small of your back, causing you to shudder unconsciously. He leads you to one of the booths hidden away from the door, and you sit with your back straight as he leans onto the booth table.

The silence between you both is filled soon with his hurried gulps of coffee, slamming it to the booth table and causing a crack to form like a lightning bolt through the ceramic mug. The violence causes you to finch, and he looks up at you with a grin.

And within a second, the man is quickly unmasking his hoodie from his face, and the scene that confronts you causes a sickening nausea to rise up your throat. The man’s face, which had been obscured by the hoodie earlier, now bears violent bruises and cuts that burst from his nose and jaw like flowers. They glint against the diner booths overhanging light, fresh and still swollen since the object or thing had cracked against his face.

The man grunts at your disturbed expression, slamming a hand down onto the diner counter that causes you to flinch.

“Your fucking protector gave me this, did you know that?” The man snarks with disgust, you're too afraid to meet his eyes but you take in his words slowly.

Your protector? Huh? No… he doesn’t mean-wait

Steve did this?

You can’t dwell on that realisation before the man is rambling to you angrily again

“And for what? You aren’t shit to me, to any of us, and frankly, we’re getting tired of watching your ass mop and clean after fucking truckers and shit. I used to take down fucking men, and I’m here babysitting. I think it’s about time to put out, alright?” He replies a knowing expression across his face that is soon morphed into amusement as he registers your confused expression.

“I mean you do know that’s why he keeps you? Wants to train you to be his little wife like you once were to little old Richerson’s. Or did you think we’d forget about your husband who’s hunting you down hm? Who’s probably going to throw my ass in the Hudson with a missing foot for even talking to you?”

You bristle at the mention of your husband's name, shaking your head as you press your fingertip to your squeezed eyes until you see stars.

No, no no. This was all wrong. Steve said he’d protect you, he had said that. He promised it like his life depended on it, but the truth was, yours did. And now, now he confuses you, your temples start to throb as a headache sets in as it does since that night when you think too hard or try to remember anything from before. Before your husband, before New York, before this very diner booth.

Did Steve really expect you to be some sit-in wife for him? Jump from one prison into another to finally be the last chest piece of his kingdom? You feel sick at the thought, the nausea burning your stomach as you press a hand to your mouth.

“You seriously didn't think you were anything else did you? Women can't be in this world unless they're whores or wives. That’s how it's always been and always will be. Don’t ever think otherwise, or soon you'll just be another fucking useless whore lying fast down in an alleyway” The man grunts, before pushing the cracked coffee mug towards you before rising from his seat, reaching into his pocket to throw a few scrunched bills at you.

“Clean this shit up, and I suggest you start putting out and doing it fast” The man replies, looking down at you before reaching for your chin, raising your face to meet his eyes.

He ticks at the tremble of your lips as you gulp down the nausea and fear still bubbling deep inside you.

“It's a shame really, that such a pretty face goes out like this, you see I didn't want to be the one to tell you this, but he gave me no choice.” The man sighs sadly as if it was the world's burden to carry that information.

“Reckon you could’ve been something if Richardson had not snatched you up like he did all those years ago. Funny how life works though isn't it? Used to be living in tower high walls and now you're scrubbing a dirty restaurant floor”. The man replies softly, yet the words spit out of him like blood, insincerity written all over his face that told you he didn’t feel bad. Not one bit. In Fact, he probably enjoyed it.

He lets go of your chin with a shove, before his loud boots stomp against the linoleum floors, slamming the diner doors behind him with a bang, and leaving you to drown in the ever-growing lies the people you’ve trusted have suffocated you in.

[buckyalpine]

18 + That is your warning so stop reading. Imagine being an absolute slut for your bodyguard Bucky even though your very much so dating Steve.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you" Steve snarled, picking up his pace while you hiccupped, "You filthy fuckin' slut, you worked up and down on his cock didn't you, I'm the only one who gets to fuck you like this"

“But I love riding his dick daddy” You wailed while bouncing on Steve's cock, biting you lip, your eyes rolling back thinking about how Bucky stretched you open like a whore, splitting you in half. "I wan Bucky's cock" You sobbed, sounding needier than ever and it made Steve leak.

"Fuck sugar, that right? You're that much of a desperate slut, you want my best friends cock?"

"Uh-huh" you nodded, nearly going cross eyed, making an utter mess all over the dark blond curls at the base of Steve's cock. He didn't stop his harsh thrusts as the door clicked open, your body guard striding into the office, his cock already rock hard.

"Hey pretty girl" Bucky cooed, smirking at how cockdrunk you were while he rounded he corner of the desk to where you were splayed across Steve's lap where he sat in his office chair. He traced your pouty bottom lip before slipping his thumb into your mouth, humming in satisfaction at the way you sucked it, moaning around the metal digit.

"Go on, finish what I started" Steve nodded while you squeaked as Bucky picked up you up effortlessly off of Steve's cock, and tossing you over his shoulder.

"Need my cock, huh Bambi, that all?" Bucky's wide palm rubbed your sore ass where Steve had spanked you, turning over to place a quick kiss onto the hot skin before laying you down on the table. You let out a needy moan at the sound of his belt hitting the floor, so deep in subby space, spreading your legs extra wide as he pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock.

"Look at that, such a good girl, spreading her legs for me" Bucky leaned over to take a good look at you, your dazed expression and wiggling hips making his balls impossibly heavy. "Wanna show Steve how well you take my cock baby? Show him how I make you moan and cum, n'how I play with that cute little button between your legs?"

"Mph, Bucky please" You whined, pouting at the disappointed tsk Bucky made.

"That's not what you call me Bambi, c'mon, whose cock do you want, say it"

"Fuck me, Sergeant-OH-MY-GODD" You cried out as Bucky slammed into you, setting in a brutal pace without waring, your body bouncing against the desk as he gripped onto your hips.

"That's-it-good girl-good. fucking. girl" Bucky snarled through gritted teeth, slamming your body down onto his cock, his head thrown back, moving one hand to wrap around your neck. He was too enamored with you to notice the way Steve's hand was wrapped around his cock, working his swollen, silky tip, watching his pretty princess take his best friend like her life depended on it.

Bucky spat right onto your clit, rubbing tight circles around you with a feral look on his face feeling you squeeze around him, bending your thighs up till they hit your chest, hitting a deeper angle.

"Feel that? M'so deep in your pussy baby, s'fuckin' deep, can feel your little clit throbbing, it's all swollen huh Bambi, you're soaking my cock, make a mess all over it princess, it's all yours"

"Sergeant-gonna-I-" You couldn't forumalte words, tears streaming down your face and falling onto the desk under you, the band in your belly ready to snap-

"You gonna cum for my best friend babygirl?" Steve's focus was locked in at where Bucky was connected to you, watching his cock slam in and out of your tight cunt, stretching you wide open, his own cock growing impossibly harder, "Fuck, you're a dirty slut, I'm gonna-fuck m'cumming" Steve's voice was breathless, his chest heaving as he worked his cock faster, eyes rolling back as white streams of cream decorated his black shirt, nearly shooting to his beard. "Holy shit"

"BUCKY M'CU-UMINGG" You wailed, your back arching off the table, screaming with every muscle in your body pulled taught. You couldn't tell where your orgasm began or where it ended, unending waves of pleasure drowning you while Bucky began to chase his own.

"Cum for your Sergeant baby, that's it, such a good girl, you make my cock so hard Bambi, y'feel so good, not gonna last, shittt-HNG" Bucky let out a guttural moan, not giving a fuck that Steve was right there, pumping you full of his cum until his balls were empty and his cock was soft. He tucked himself back in his pants before removing his shirt to wipe you down and picking you up, letting you wrap yourself around him like a koala. Your boyfriend followed closely behind, smirking at the needy noise you made, checking to see that Steve was also coming for some post sex naps, sighing contently when you saw him following near by.

"Off to bed, Bambi"

[jesevans]

Ooh, Steve wears rings 😏

How about a moodboard for mob!Steve and his fainting accountant? Thank you ❤️🙏🏻

Here's ya be

[barneswinchester]

MCU Masterlist III

as always, I don't own any of these, they're just my absolute favourites.

mcu masterlist I

mcu masterlist II

Bucky Barnes

SMUT 👅

drabble

look at me

bad date

welcome back

ride

on his knees

wake up bj

a taste of submission

a good plowin

bliss

printesa mea

somnophilia

languages of love

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

protective

purgatory

grouch

his safe place

night terrors

my babydoll

sensitive

safe with me

Steve Rogers

SMUT 👅

the game

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

my love is winter

the game

every step of the way

Stucky

SMUT 👅

feral

heat of the moment

a sweet treat

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

initials

I'm pregnant, not dying

brave new world

happy ending

last hope part two

Andy Barber

SMUT 👅

anonymous

Ari Levinson

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

you said I was your favourite

SMUT 👅

forget everything

Loki

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

bad dreams

Lee Bodecker

SMUT 👅

persuasion

[natashadied4oursins]

My Writing

I don't have many fics posted, but here's what I've got. If you enjoy them, please like and comment!

My AO3

Adults only, and please read Trigger Warnings!

Leverage

Dark Eliot: The World We Live In (Eliot Spencer x fem!OC)

Marvel

Nice Like That (Steve Rogers x fem!OC/reader)

Not Sexting (Bucky Barnes x fem!OC/reader)

The Boyfriend Package (Bucky Barnes x fem!OC)

[lokiswifeduh]

Don't leave me

Pairings- Mob!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary- The aftermath of the shootout was here. And Bucky has to come to terms with the results of the life he introduced you to, and what revenge he would ensue.

notes- this is a part two to Doll, please. I hope you guys enjoy the ending!! Please let me know your thoughts!! Thank you for reading loves!!

Warnings- angst, talk of guns, drugs, kidnapping, abuse, torture. major gore. sad Bucky, hurt reader, hurt/comfort, gunshot wounds, medical talk, revenge.

WC- 3k

catch up here (part one)

masterlist

"Doll, please."

I saw her look up at me with those doe eyes. Those big beautiful eyes painfully gazing into mine. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to turn her away from the bullets that were sure to fly our way, but I couldn't move my hands. In this moment I couldn't protect her.

I felt the sob rip from her throat. There were only ten seconds left.

"I vowed to stand by your side, Buck." She looked back to the ten guns pointed in mine and her direction. I could see a stray tear slip down her cheek as her hands shook, her nails digging into her palm as she tried her hardest to release my wrists from the painful wire digging into them.

Suddenly she dropped the knife, jumping into my lap. Her hands wrapped around my neck as her legs surrounded the back of the chair, encasing my upper body. "NO! Doll, please!!" I felt her hit the knife in my thigh with hers, but I ignored the pain focusing on what in the world she thought she was doing.

The men cocked their guns. But in that moment all I could think about was how to get her off of me. I needed her to run, to fight back to do something. Not to protect my body with hers. I couldn't let her.

"Doll!! Stop!! Get up!!" But my protests fell on deaf ears as she tucked my head into her chest, wrapping her arms tighter around my neck, not letting me move a muscle below her. She shook her head, my tears soaking her shirt, mixing with mine and her blood. "I won't let you die." She attempted to shout but at that moment her voice was the quietest I'd ever heard it.

I tried to whisper back when suddenly shots rang out through the warehouse. My head popped up, prepared to die with the love of my life. I wouldn't let her do it herself. I would not live without her. Not if I had a choice.

But in that split second, I realized the first bullets that went flying weren't from Rumlow's men, it was from Steve, Sam, and my men, shooting at the ones who threatened us.

"Doll, we're gonna be oka-" But my words were cut short as two bullets flew into her. She screamed. Her vocal cords grinding together in the most painful way I'd ever heard. I felt my heart rip in two as her body shook against mine, arching her back as if that would stop the pain.

But she kept her head down, arms shaking yet still holding onto me. I would have cut my hands off if I had the strength to rip through the restraints. A sob tore from my throat, "Don't do this to me."

She finally lifted her head, my beautiful wife looking at me with such care and tenderness. As if she hadn't just been shot twice, and wasn't using all of her strength to hold onto me for dear life.

A small drop of blood trickled down the side of her mouth as her teeth were painted red. "I love you, James Barnes." She cupped my face in her hands, tucking me back into her chest as her grip seemed to loosen, "Till forever and always."

The words we both said to each other on our wedding day. "Doll, please." Her hold on me finally failed as she fell, but thankfully into the arms of Steve, before her head would've slammed into the concrete.

My second in command looked at both of us. Tortured and bloody. I held in my tears as I looked at Sam, leading a pair of medics through the door.

"Rumlow will pay." The wire from my wrists was snapped in half thanks to Peter, a new, very terrified recruit. I shot down immediately onto my knees, holding her head in my hands as the paramedics loaded my wife onto the stretcher. "Don't leave me."

I made eye contact with Steve, "I will have him and that traitor's head."

_________________

You lay in the hospital bed, your whole body practically wrapped in soft white bandages.

You could feel the pressure of something on your thigh as you tried to open your eyes. It wasn't working. Why couldn't you just open them?!

Try something else, you thought.

You moved your hands, the feeling of someone else's palm in yours made your heart start to race. You could remember little parts over the last three days.

Bucky was kidnapped.

Steve was put in charge.

You were kidnapped.

Natasha was working with Rumlow.

The torture.

The pain.

Your husband's face as you used yourself as a human shield.

Being shot.

Suddenly you heard screaming and saw bright lights. A heart monitor was beeping louder and faster at each passing second.

Realizing the screaming was in fact your own, you started to breathe harder. You finally could open your eyes!

Your surroundings were blurry at first. There was a familiar figure in front of you. Sounds were muffled but began to come back into focus.

"Doll?! Sweetheart, you're okay."

You shook your head, looking around in panic before realizing you were in fact back at home, in your bed. Bucky beside you. Your husband, holding your face in his hands.

"B-Bucky?" Your voice was raspy and your throat felt like sandpaper, rubbing together from underuse.

Involuntarily you started to cough, holding a hand up to your throat which only caused more pain in your back to bloom. "Ah," You groaned, swallowing before resting your head back on the pillow.

You felt Bucky's hands leave your body, but only for a second as he held a straw to your lips. "It's just water doll. I need you to drink this for me." You nodded, feeling a pounding in your head as you sucked down the refreshing liquid. The coolness soothing your throat like rain in the desert.

"Good girl." Bucky gave you a soft smile, taking the straw away from your mouth as you finished the water.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you regained your vision, looking around.

Monitors, medical equipment, and an abundance of flowers and cards filled your and Bucky's bedroom. Light shone through the window as you squinted, shooting over to look at Bucky who just gazed down at you worryingly.

You looked him over, seeing the cuts and bruises that adorned his face. His lip was split in multiple places. His thigh was wrapped in gauze and his wrists were bandaged. Looking down, so were yours. Actually, it seemed your entire body was.

"Are yo-," You swallowed, "Are you okay?"

Bucky took a moment before letting out a laugh. "You're asking me if I'm okay, doll?" You nodded, confused.

"Sweetheart you're the one who's been unconscious for three weeks and has two bullet wounds."

You twisted your hips a little, feeling the agonizing, shooting pain of the very real bullet wounds. Groaning, you whispered, "So that definitely happened, good to know."

Bucky ran his hand down the side of your face, sitting in the chair that was placed beside your shared bed. "I'm the one who's supposed to protect you, doll." You gulped, "I- I couldn't let you die, James."

Bucky closed his eyes, laying his head down on your thigh as he gripped your hand in his. "I would've rather die than see you in this state, sweetheart."

You lifted your other hand, running it through his untamed hair. "Don't say that, Buck." But his head lifted, making you notice his bloodshot eyes and the way tears streamed down his face in harsh lines. "I won't live without you, doll." He shook his head, a tear dripping onto the hospital blanket "I would rather die a thousand times over and over in the same painful way than see you in such agony, my love."

You held back tears, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breath. "I couldn't- no. I wouldn't let you die like that, Buck." You looked at him once again, "Not at the hands of Rumlow. Not because of me." "This wasn't because of you, doll-" "But it was!" You shouted, making you cough slightly, not used to using your voice for this long yet. "Rumlow took you because he wanted to hurt us- because he wanted me." You cupped Bucky's jaw in your hand, "Because I chose you." Bucky gulped, "I've never been so scared." You softly laughed, thinking of all the shootouts, drug deals, and interrogations Bucky went through on a day-to-day basis.

But he shook his head, hearing your chuckle. "Seeing him hurt you and torture you the way he did." Bucky's eyes went dark, "I've never wanted to hurt someone so bad just to ensure you made it out of there safely." You tried to speak up but Bucky kept going. "And look at you now. You're laying here, with two gunshot wounds, fingernails ripped apart, and a busted-up face."

Tilting your head, you looked at the mirror that stood in front of your and Bucky's bed; genuinely taking in your appearance. You in fact did have a busted-in face. Your lip was split. Your eyebrow was stitched as well as your nose. You had bruises covering every inch of your skin and your hair was in the worst shape you had ever seen.

Gulping, you looked away from the mirror, making Bucky take your chin in his hands, guiding you to look him in the eyes. "But you're still the prettiest doll I've ever seen." He moved, bringing his lips to yours in a soft yet long-awaited kiss. "My best girl."

It hurt to smile but you did, bringing your hand to his face, gently rubbing over the matching bruises that mirrored yours. "I love you, James."

"I love you, doll."

________________________

The next few days were agonizing.

You could finally stand up on the third day. But not without terrible pain shooting in every nerve ending of your body.

Bucky helped you with everything. From showering to cleaning your wounds. He was quite the nurse when it came to you.

But unfortunately about a week after you woke up, the violence hadn't ended. There were still some loose ends to tie up.

Slowly walking down the stairs and into one of the main rooms, everyone's attention went to your hobbling frame. "Doll?" Bucky sped over, Steve immediately pulling up a chair so you could take a seat.

As you sat down you noticed a large bruise on Steve's jaw. You knew Bucky would eventually be mad at him for not properly making sure you stayed out of the mess and violence of it all. But you were hoping it would've been a stern lecture, not a punch.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Bucky whispered. The room stayed completely silent as Steve, Sam, and the rest of Bucky's men kept their backs turned, giving you two some privacy.

"I know you're planning to retaliate against, Rumlow."

Bucky nodded, taking your face in his hands as you fidgeted with the string of your sweatpants. Well, Bucky's sweatpants.

"I don't want you involved again, doll." He glanced back at Steve for a moment, "Not after what happened."

You shook your head, "I need him to pay for this, Buck." Your body shook with anger, "I want his fucking blood." Bucky was slightly startled, never seeing this much hatred in your eyes. You were always his sweet wife. You made the men cookies, and you organized charity events for the homeless shelter down the street.

Sure, you knew how to use a gun and fight if you had to. But seeing this much agonizing resentment on your face, scared him. But he knew you wouldn't let it go. He sure as hell wasn't.

So he let you know the plan, and what was going down.

______________

"Steve? We good?" Bucky touched the earpiece, hearing an affirmative. The mob had infiltrated Rumlow's mansion only one week later, killing every single man who stood in their way. Shoot on site. Was your husband's order as you and he waited to enter the mansion, making sure only Rumlow and Natasha were left.

Two of Bucky's men opened the doors to the mansion. The sight of the place made you cringe slightly. Soldiers were dead on the ground everywhere. Blood painted the floors and staircases like a stain.

"Top floor, back left bedroom."

You heard Steve's voice echo through the earpiece as you and Bucky made your way up.

His hand never left the small of your back, making sure you were covered at all angles with men following behind and in front of you, rifles pinned for every aspect of an attack.

"You alright, doll?" Bucky whispered, his hand on the door that would lead you to Rumlow. You nodded, ignoring the dull pain in your back. "I need this to be over with." Your husband kissed the crown of your head, nodding to his men as they busted down the door, guns held high.

But the sight in front of you made you smile.

Rumlow was beaten down, cowering in the corner of the room as Natasha stood in the corner, you could see the fear in her eyes. The same fear she caused you as she ripped your fingernails to pieces.

"Brock Rumlow," Bucky spoke in a deep voice, pulling on a pair of black gloves, before handing you a matching pair.

You slipped them on, hand placed on the knife that was strapped onto your thigh, just above the black jeans you had on.

Steve and Sam patted Bucky on the back, looking toward you with respect. "Have fun, you two." The blonde spoke, before exiting and closing the doors behind them.

"P-please, Barnes." Rumlow pleaded, "Have mercy."

Bucky was about to laugh before Natasha beat him to it. "Oh, please. You two really think he was the mastermind behind all this?" You looked over at the redhead in the corner, your former friend.

"If he's not, does that mean you are?" Your voice carried through the room, a newfound confidence making you raise your head high.

Natasha grinned, "And here I thought you never would've survived." You tilted your head, "Two bullet shots and I'm walking four weeks later." You pulled the gun from your other holster, "I can't say the same for you after this." You pointed it right at her forehead.

"Come here," Bucky moved forward, knowing you had Natasha pinned with the intent to shoot; dragging Rumlow up as two of his men held him on his knees.

"Nat, please. Do something." Rumlow begged, making you let out a laugh under your breath. "Do you think she's really in the position to?" You saw her move forward slightly, making you cock your gun, "One more step and I blow your fucking brains all over these white sheets."

Bucky grinned, loving this color on you.

"You really thought you could take my girl from me?" Your husband kneels in front of Brock, pulling out a knife from his belt. "What did you call her after breaking her nose? Oh, that's right, a 'lovely specimen."

Bucky's smirk dropped, nodding at the two men holding Brock down as they forced his mouth open. Brock shouted and yelled as Bucky gripped the end of his tongue, pulling it from his mouth and slicing it clean off from the base with his knife.

Brock wailed and cried as another soldier brought over a jar filled with a yellow liquid, opening the top so Bucky could drop the tongue in. He closed the lid, holding it up high as he watched Brock's mouth fill with blood. "What a lovely specimen."

"You two are fucking sick." Natasha, sneered, making you grip the knife from your own holster, throwing it and landing it right in her hand that was held in the air. She screamed, falling to the ground and back up until her back hit the wall.

You kneeled down, gun still pointed in her face, "Talk again and next time your tongue will join his in the jar." Your former friend gulped, nodding as you smirked.

Bucky gripped the front of Brock's shirt, making his back touch Bucky's chest as he held a knife to his throat. "Anything you wanna say before I kill you in front of your girlfriend, Rumlow?"

You laughed, slightly, making Bucky huff in humor. "Oh, that's right. You can't" He whispered the last part before slicing a clean and deep cut across his neck, blood pouring out as he collapsed to the ground, whimpering and sputtering in pain as he bled out, his eyes on you in fear as he eventually stopped moving.

Natasha looked back at you, still clutching her bleeding hand into her chest. You kneeled down, "Why, Natasha?" She shook with terror, hardly being able to force the words out. "Why did he have to pick you?!"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "What?" Natasha scoffed, looking over at your husband, then back to you.

"Before you came along I thought he could love me. But then you showed up, taking all Bucky's attention. I never stood a fucking chance." You laughed, sighing before standing and walking over to Bucky, placing a hand on the back of his head before smashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. He groaned, biting your lip and making you moan into his mouth.

You chuckled, still holding the back of his head in your hand. You lifted your arm, perfect aim.

"No, Natasha. You never stood a fucking chance." One, two, then three shots rang out through the room as you planted two bullets in Natasha's head, and one in the chest.

Dropping the gun, you saw her body slump to the ground. Dead.

Bucky turned you away from the scene, bringing your face into his hands as both of you had unshed tears in your eyes. "It's over, doll."

You nodded, holding onto his hands as they held your face. "Can we go home, Buck?" He nodded, bringing your face into his chest as he walked you back through the house and into the car. "We're going home, doll. I'm never leaving you."

End

__________________

part one (read first)

masterlist

Taglist:

@yeahyeahyeah23-blog @rinniereads123 @shortnloud @julvrs @unaxv @sapphirebarnes

[girlllucrazy]

okay im not one to usually get into a marvel au, but i just know this is about to devourrrrr!!

All is Fair Series Master List

Main Master List

Series Summary: Family is important, but so is the Family business. Everyone has secrets, some are deadly. Your the best in the business, but no one knows who you are. Tensions are high, will you raise the stakes or fold under pressure?

Series Warnings: 18+! Mentions of blood and violence, bad language words, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, death, trauma, please follow the warnings for each chapter. There are chapters with brutal and dark themes, please ready at your own discretion, warnings will be before each chaptetr!

Pairing: Mob!Steve x Assassin!Stark!reader

Chapters are in chronological order.

All Is Fair-

Under The Gun

In Missions and Motives

Secrets and Stolen Glances

False Fronts and High Stakes

In Love and Luck

In Fires and Failure

Blood and Brothers (Drabble)

In Death and Destruction

In Life and Death

In Blindsides and Broken Hearts

In Consequences and Cavalier

In Trials and Tribulations

In Faith and Falsehoods

In Vendettas and Verity

In History and Heartbreak

In Chaos and Confessions

In Ascension and Enlightenment

In Mistakes and Misery

In Gambits and Ghosts

In Saviors and Sovereignty

In Woes and Wounds

In Waltzes and Wishes (drabble)

In Decisions and Disgrace (drabble)

In Peace and Parallels

In Meetings and Mediation

Extras

The Guide to the Aces

Series Spotify playlist

The Ace of Spades (mood board)

Wraith (mood board)