#mob! steve x reader

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 3: Pick Up the Pace

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: You and Steve have been running into each other for weeks, just, now you’re starting to plan it.

Word count: 4,948

Content/warnings: Law enforcement and forensics themes, swears, eating dinner, clothes sharing, my low knowledge of suit brands, mentions of misogyny and misogynistic themes, snacking, being dressed down in a room full of fancy clothes, sneaking into someone’s trunk?, the lightest mob themes, DA (yes, he got promoted) Barber

Author’s Note: I hope you guys are chomping at the bit to see Steve x Decks as much as I am. Actually, I know you are, the polls support it and I love it.

I really liked this chapter, it just flowed. You can see that Decks is really back and forth on what’s going on… This takes place at roughly the same time as chapter 9 of YCMBWH in the Outta Nowhere AU

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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To call you overworked would be an understatement. You were exhausted from the long week, your early Saturday shift hitting you like a train. The great thing was, you didn’t have to work tomorrow and were only on-call Monday, in case something especially heinous happened and they couldn’t handle it. Might as well be a golden weekend! But you couldn’t celebrate too soon, you still had half the day in front of you.

You had come into the lab even earlier than your schedule demanded today to get a few more results compiled for an important case that was set to go on trial soon. It seemed like almost everything was on the rise lately, causing you to have to take on more cases at once, and the same thing went for the DA’s office. That’s what brought you here, transporting important files a few blocks down, far outside your usual basement-to-crime scene-and-back domain.

Usually, detective Lang would take the evidence up to the DA’s office for whatever case was going on, but he wasn’t in today and this was top-priority. You knew how to do it, just never had to, so you were slightly tentative on where exactly you were going. But, either way, there was no way in hell you were going let Detective Walker even think about touching your files. You didn’t trust that rat of a man, which is how you found yourself walking up the steps to the DA’s office on your own.

It was a nice change of pace, at least. The air was slightly less stale above ground, although way more humid. The sun even peeked at you from beyond the dense cloud coverage. As you made your way through the DA’s office, you weren’t quite sure how they could all stand the amount of searing natural light that must pour through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Sure, your office could stand to have a little more non-fluorescent light, but this was too much. Plus, it probably cost a fortune, this new office having been built just a few years ago as one of the few actions of the office that you didn’t quite agree with.

One thing you did agree with, though, or at least hoped you did, was Andy Barber. He was seemingly a nice guy, but you had never met him. You voted for him for DA, so you were hoping he wasn’t that bad, but all you had to go off of was his case prosecution method and whatever the local paper had to say. According to them, at least you knew he’d be in his office over his lunch break, lining up with yours. DA Barber was notorious for working hard. It was something you and many citizens respected him for, although you were sure his wife and son thought differently.

You walked through the hallway towards his office, transporting the file that was clenched tightly in your hand, hoping you’d be received well. Distracted by checking the room numbers instead of peeking inside the offices, you removed a set of stiff knuckles from the Manila folder in preparation to rap on the door when the image on the other side sharpened into focus. You froze with your fist in the air as your jaw slightly dropped and your eyes shifted back and forth a the sight before you.

Two sets of blue eyes, attached to bodies dressed in suits, stared back at you through the glass, the one in the large desk chair holding mild confusion, yet intrigue, the other holding….maybe amusement and….was that…fondness? But definitively it was slight trepidation.

The man at the desk, DA Barber from the looks of it, gestured for you to come in. You did your best to will your body to move from your rigid position, swallowing thickly and lowering your arm to the door handle. Your feet felt nailed to the ground, weighed down by cement in the shuffling steps you took to get into the office. Your eyes kept wanting to shift to the man who sat opposite of the desk, the one you’ve seen around a lot lately, at work and in your mind, as his own gaze was glued to you.

Remembering where your were, you made a beeline for the DA, sticking out your hand. “DA Barber, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir. I come bearing that evidence you asked for.” You introduced yourself as he shook your hand, nodding and smiling in acknowledgement.

He gestured for you to sit down in the other leather chair positioned in front of his desk before waving a hand toward the man who had been silent thus far, despite the way his clear blue eyes had practically been screaming at you since before you entered the room.

“Please, Andy is fine. I hear a lot about you, especially from this guy right here. You know Steve Rogers, right?”

You nodded, looking over at Steve, just to catch the way his gaze averted yours just for a second, before locking in again in the formal, respectful manner he always tried to hold.

“Yes, Steve and I have met. And you can call me Decks, if it’s all the same. I hope I’m not interrupting anything, I can come back later if you want to discuss the file once your lunch date is over.”

Andy laughed and nodded to Steve once again. “I see what you were saying.” He looked back to you, slight creases in the corners of his eyes from his smile as he raised his eyebrows at you. “You’re funny. But no need, Steve is involved somewhat with this case and can stay for the discussion.”

You simply gave a curt nod, all business, opening up the folder and turning the documents toward him before going through your results.

You had spent way longer in Andy’s office than you had anticipated, half talking through the case and half just getting along with the gentlemen in front of you. Honestly, it was nice to finally have a conversation with people who understood your line of work, not only the mechanics of it, but where that work led, even if you still weren’t exactly sure what Steve did or what this all had to do with him.

Before you knew it, it was time to head back to the lab so you could grab your stuff to go home. As you started running down the steps and out the front door to try and beat the rain that threatened to fall soon, you heard tapping steps behind you.

“Hey, Decks, wait up.” You stopped and looked over your shoulder to see Steve gliding down the staircase, long legs making the strides look effortless.

He caught up and you continued walking back to your lab as he joined you, easily matching your brisk pace. As you were about to open your mouth to ask him why he was walking with you, your stomach growled over the sounds of even cars passing on the street and interrupted your train of thought. You simply looked at him, the two of you sharing an owlish gaze before busting out into a small bout of laughter.

“So you’re speeding off to dinner, then, I assume?” You shrugged, swerving around a parking meter before looking back at him.

“I wish. I’ve gotta hit the lab to get my stuff and then head home, but I’m way too tired to make anything, so we’re looking at either takeout or leftovers…”

Steve contemplated for a second as the two of you reached the precinct, and opened the door for you. “So, that’s what, with Saturday night traffic and cleaning up your space, an an hour? Maybe two before you actually get food in you?”

You descended the steps towards the basement, pulling out your keys to unlock the lab space and letting Steve in in front of you. “Yeah, I guess so, and I can already feel the hangry coming on, but I mean, at least there’s no one around who’s going to have to deal with it. It’s just me.”

Steve stopped in the middle of the room and turned around to face you. “No, Decks. I do. I have to deal with it, especially now that we’re friends.”

You looked at him with a raised brow. “Steve, we hardly know each other.”

He shrugged. “Then get to know me. How about I propose you a solution? What if I told you I could cut that time in half? From right now to you having an actual meal. I’ll help you clean up the lab here and then you and I can go to one of my restaurants. I’ve got a couple that aren’t far at all. On me, and I’ll guarantee food will be in your mouth within ten minutes of sitting down.”

You grabbed a pair of gloves, tossing the box to Steve for him to put on his own. “While I appreciate the offer, and I will put you to work in here, I can’t ask that of you, Steve. Plus, look at me, I’m a mess right now. And I’m sure all your restaurants are fancy. Could I even wear this to one of them?” You gestured up and down to your body, clad in jeans, one of the few perks that came with working Saturdays instead of a weekday, a casual shirt, windbreaker overtop and hair slightly ragged from a mix of the wind and a long day.

“I think you look fine, but, Decks, please, let me do this for you. You deserve to eat a good meal after how hard you’ve been working. And if it makes you feel better, I’ll change out of this suit so we match. Sound good?”

You sighed, starting to clear the clutter all around and signaling for Steve to do the same. He wasn’t going to move, though. Not until you gave him an answer. His eyes were boring into your soul despite how soft they looked, the hopeful smile on his face adding a sparkle you couldn’t resist. You looked at him and cocked your head to the side in exasperation, the back of one gloved hand perching on a popped hip, the other pointing towards Steve’s nose. “Ugh, fine. But none of that fancy bullshit. I want actual food, like you said. I don’t have the brain power for high-brow culinary transformation right now. Understood?”

Steve beamed at you, elated with your confirmatory response and ever amused, happy to comply by your demands. “Understood. So how do you feel about pasta?”

Steve pulled your car up to the entrance of his restaurant and tossed the keys at one of the young valet attendants, the other opening your door. You stepped out and looked at the elegant, yet humble storefront, surprised that you had never been here before. Sure, you worked close and you loved pasta, but you never even dared to try getting a reservation and were often too tired to even think of going anywhere but home for dinner, especially here.

Out of the corner of your eye, you witnessed Steve’s Range Rover pull up to where your car was moments ago, an arm reaching out and handing him a duffel bag. Steve slung it over his shoulder and nodded at you, opening the door for you to go inside.

“Mr. Rogers and Ms. Decks. Right this way, please.” The hostess immediately greeted the two of you, leading you back to a booth in the corner of the room, able to see the entire space. On your way there, though, you could see the nice clothes everyone was in. Yours were nothing akin to theirs, but no one spared even you a glance, which was oddly comforting, but a little unsettling.

Steve whispered down to you that he was going to change and you nodded, picking up and perusing the leather-bound menu in front of you. You hadn’t even finished reading, let alone made a decision, before Steve was already sauntering back to the table, now wearing a pair of jeans, white t-shirt, and navy blue bomber jacket. Oh man, did that make his eyes pop. His outfit was quite similar to yours, but just fit him perfectly in every way.

He gave you a shy smile as he slid into the booth, nodding towards the menu. “Find anything good yet?”

Your eyes went wide as you blew out a breath. “Steve, it all looks good. I can’t even decide what I want.”

“Well, what’s your favorite?” You snorted at that.

“My favorite? I’m not quite sure…. I mean, I cook spaghetti for myself the most, but that’s because it’s easy, not necessarily because it’s my favorite. What do you recommend?”

Steve clicked his tongue before responding to you. “I think I know just the thing.” He hardly raised two fingers off the table before a waiter was at his side, listening to Steve’s instructions on a ‘tour of the menu.’

“And any wine pairings this evening?” Steve looked to you in deference of the question, before you simply shook your head.

“No, thank you. Just water for tonight should be alright.” The waiter curtly nodded and walked away.

Steve was right, you timed it on your watch. He guaranteed ten minutes for food to be in your mouth, it hardly took eight. Steve watched tentatively as the plates were set before the two of you on the table, letting you portion out what you wanted first. The second the first bite hit your lips, you swore it was heavenly. Your store boxed spaghetti and jarred sauce held nothing to this rigatoni alla vodka, or the simple scents you had gotten off anything else so far.

As soon as you swallowed, you looked across the table at a very knowing glance. “Holy fuck, Steve. This is delicious.”

He nodded, finally serving himself and sipping his water before digging in. “The greatest, right?”

You hummed, taking in the amazing food, paired with the atmosphere. The rain beat against the window, adding to the coziness of the restaurant and the comfort and satisfaction provided by the food in front of you. Damn, this was good pasta. If Steve was going to insist on being around you so often, you were going to make sure he brought this along with him every time. Now that you tried it, you were never going back.

The two of you opted for silence as you continued to eat, at least for the first few bites. When you thought about it, Steve probably hadn’t had anything for as long as you, although he was taking it much better.

As the meal went on, though, the two of you fell into an easy conversation. It almost infuriated you how well the two of you got along. It was like talking to an old friend, except one that never got too explicit about their job description. Steve knew all about yours, and you knew all about his life growing up with Bucky plus a few interests, but that’s pretty much where it stopped. It wouldn’t have been a concern if he worked an everyday 9-5 job, but he didn’t. Something just didn’t quite add up, but that honestly wasn’t your concern. If he wanted to own a bunch of businesses, at least they made quality goods like this linguini. You were still astounded by how much he was able to control the room, though.

“So, like…what’s the deal?” You interjected just as he was about to take another bite.

“I’m sorry?” Steve was caught off guard, even though he could see the flashes of gears turning in your mind sporadically throughout this whole dinner ordeal.

“Sorry, I actually didn’t mean to make that as harsh as it came out, but like…you can’t tell me there hasn’t been a pattern of behavior with you all day today. I just wanted to point it out.”

Steve set down his silverware to put his full focus on you. Everything he had told you up until this point had been honest, and he wondered if he was about to be persecuted. The conversation had been fine, and the two of you were having a good time, but he couldn’t blame you for being a little bugged by his vague answers and workarounds.

“I just feel like everywhere you go, you command people around. If it were anyone else, I feel like they’d be all cocky about it, making false promises, but so many people are out here lending you their attention like you run things. Sometimes even in my workplace.”

“Decks, I, uh…. I don’t know how I’m supposed to take that.” His eyes slightly narrowed at you, unsure of where this was going next.

“I guess, it’s, uh…. It’s a compliment? But really more of an observation. And I’m saying I feel like I’m the only one who sees it. Feeling like a regular old Lizzie Curry.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “Um, am I supposed to know that name? Is it someone you went to school with? Is it one of your coworkers?”

You let out a chuckle. “God, no. You’ve never seen that movie? It’s an old western. You know what, come over and we’ll watch it, plus you can listen to the song it inspired, too. Steven, you uncultured dog”

He laughed and rubbed his neck. “Okay, okay, I get it. But you don’t mean like… right now, do you?”

You pushed your plate of food away from you, more than satisfied with the best meal you’ve had in months. “I mean, I guess? If you wanted to. I’m not working tomorrow. I’m not even on call, so sure, I could technically stay up. It’d be worth it to see someone else’s reaction to old film.”

Steve sheepishly smiled before sinking a little into the seat, signaling the waiter to come back and package the leftovers, sure to send you home with extra bread, too. “I would love to, but I actually have an important business meeting.” He checked his watch. “That I’m about six minutes away from being late for already. Tomorrow?”

You nodded, pulling your jacket on and accepting a bag from the waiter. “Yeah, tomorrow works.”

Steve slid out of the booth, sending a message on his phone before sliding it into his back pocket to put as much attention towards you as he could. “Okay, perfect, I’ll come by at seven.”

You vigorously shook your head. “No, way too late. Make it five.”

He looked at you incredulously. “Five!? Okay, fine. Let me make some phone calls. I’ll see what I can do. I can probably rearrange some things.” He sighed and pulled out his phone again, holding it up to his ear and sending you a wink and a wave before getting into the Black SUV that sped to the curb, meeting him as soon as he touched the sidewalk.

You spent the day Sunday cleaning your entire apartment. Sure, it was your normal cleaning day when it could be, but something made you feel like it needed to be extra spotless. You were in a zen, music blasting, dancing around with your mop, which was luckily the last thing you had to do.

You at least didn’t have to worry about preparing snacks or anything for Steve’s visit, texting him the command to get them on his way over, since you were already doing him the ‘gracious service of hosting,’ as you had said. He got a kick out of that one and obliged you, even texting Bee to get your preferences and personally picking them up instead of sending out a lackey.

He was surprised by how short Bee’s texts to him were, though, considering they usually had chipper conversations. Maybe he would call her later, or at least tell Bucky to since they had both been in a good mood the last time they’d spoken.

Steve pulled into your parking garage and went to the trunk of his car to grab his duffel so he could change into comfy clothes once he got up to your place. As the lift gate opened, though, Steve was terrified for the first thing he saw to be a shoe, attached to a leg clothed in Ralph Lauren pants. Steve took inventory of what was going on in his trunk as Bucky, the man attached to said shoe and pants turned over and groaned. Luckily, it didn’t appear that he was injured, but his eyes were quite puffy and his hair was in a mess, and not how it was back at the farm.

Bucky was wearing one of his junk suits: one that he didn’t care what happened to it. One that was marked as comfy, that he could throw it away in a second.

This was less than an everyday suit. Usually, Bucky wouldn’t be caught in anything less than Armani, even known for wearing Brioni almost every day. He must’ve really been going through it, especially since his hair has never been seen professionally without at least half an ounce of gel in it.

This was bad, and it was the last thing Steve needed right now, as the time was crunching and he didn’t want to delay your snacks or this date….wait. Was this a date? Was last night a date? Whatever, he didn’t have the time to think it over, though, instead looking down at the mob boss sprawled in the trunk and trying to gather information as quickly as possible.

“Bucky, what the actual hell is going on right now. Why are you in my trunk? Were you crying?” Tears were something Steve had only seen from his best friend a handful of times over their lives side-by-side, so for them to be so suddenly present was a concern.

Bucky sniffled before putting his best attempt of an angry face on, although it looked more like a pout. “I miss her, Steve. It’s only been a week, but I just can’t stand to be away. She’s stuck in my head and we were never even anything official. I’ve been trying to drown myself in work, but all I’m really drowning in is…sadness.”

He swung his legs to finally sit up under the tailgate. Steve knew Bucky had thrown himself into work, the man had been back for six days and had hardly been seen outside his office while Steve was sent out for all the in-person necessities. Steve slapped his hands on the shoulders of his best friend before meeting his gaze, then eventually pulling him in for a hug. “Okay, I get it. But she’s not gone. She’s only a few hours away and you can call her whenever.”

Bucky shook his head and sniffled. “No, I can’t call her. It’ll just make it worse. I just need a friend right now. Can I hang out with you?”

Steve sighed and placed his hands on his hips, questioning the plausibility of the situation. He had been getting along with you so well this weekend that the last thing he wanted to do was ruin it. And it would be indecent of him to cancel when he was already here, bearing snacks.

You were perched on the couch in your nice, comfy clothes scrolling through the TV to find the movie you had told Steve about. It had been awhile since you had seen it, but from what you could remember, it was hilariously ridiculous and you’d be happy if you could just get one person to share in the spectacle with you.

Of course, you didn’t mind that it was Steve, either. You rather enjoyed his company. It wasn’t overbearing or obnoxious, at least when it was just the two off you, and when he wasn’t trying to flex his knowledge. This weekend so far with him had just been… easy, though. And most of all, he listened. It was so hard to find someone who was like that, especially in your line of work. You were one of the best forensic scientists in the area, but many wouldn’t give you the time of day, mostly the shitty cops you worked with besides Lang. With Steve, outside of what had happened the first time he came into your lab, you felt as though your expertise was respected.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a firm knock on the door, followed by murmuring on the other side. You opened the door to see Steve holding a bunch of grocery bags, along with his duffel. Behind him was another man in a suit, kicking his feet.

“Bucket? What are you doing here?”

Steve sighed for what felt like the hundredth time and walked through the door you were now holding open, towards your kitchen to set down the snacks. “He’s not doing super well right now. I hope you don’t mind that I brought him.”

Steve looked at you with anxious anticipation as he walked towards the bathroom door as Bucky spoke up.

“Yeah, Decks. I’m really sorry to just show up unannounced, but going back to work after a month in the middle of nowhere was a hard transition.” That among other things were racing through his mind, but honestly, you got it. Hell, even coming back after a single weekend was hard, so you couldn’t blame the guy. He looked about as bad as Bee sounded in your phone call with her the other day. You just nodded.

“You won’t even know I’m here.” He looked at you with pleading eyes, rivaling the most helpless puppy you could possibly dream up.

“Okay. That’s fine, just get changed and you get to arrange the snacks. Does Steve have a change of clothes for you? I’m instating this apartment as a business attire-free zone.”

You looked over to where Steve was still leaning against the door frame where he shook his head. “I mean, I’ve got extra pants for him, but do you have another shirt or sweatshirt I can borrow?”

Movie time found you and Steve on opposite ends of your small couch with Bucky in the middle, the three of you holding bowls stacked high with all of your favorites, and seemingly Bucky’s too.

Bucky wore Steve’s clothes while Steve wore one of your old, oversized college hoodies from the collection. He had picked it out when you took him back to your room to try to find something that would fit one of the buffest men you knew. During this time, Steve told you all about what was going on with Bucky, and you understood. Being away from a loved one is never easy, you missed Bee everyday, too.

To your surprise, and honestly a little annoyingly, the sweatshirt Steve grabbed fit him better than it fit you. You missed the smug grin he wore as he slipped it on, happy to be hugged by your scent.

You hardly got to enjoy the sight, though, as a brick wall of a man sat between the two of you, jaw constantly clenching with the way he had steeled his feelings and demeanor. Bucky would never let anyone but Steve see him cry, but you had no idea how much it meant that he had even let you have a glimpse at him feeling sad.

Watching a movie that was almost purely taking place on a farm probably wasn’t the best decision. That wasn’t technically your fault, though. You had already chosen it and Bucky’s surprise visit wasn’t going to make you change your plans more than you already had by him just being there.

About half way through, he paused it, getting up to make the three of you drinks from whatever was in your cabinets, giving you and Steve the opportunity to talk about what had happened so far.

“So how old is she supposed to be?” Steve pointed at the screen.

“My best assumption is late twenties, early thirties if they were trying so desperately to marry her off at this point and still expecting kids. But she looks a little older than that, right? She was like, fifty when this was filmed.” You popped another gummy bear in your mouth.

“Ah, makes sense. Yeah, I’ve been so thrown off this whole time. Old-time expectations and behaviors are…interesting? I guess I’m not surprised, but it’s also quite alarming to see it portrayed so casually on the screen.” You nodded in agreement.

“Oh definitely. But you have to agree it makes it a little funny. I don’t think I could make it through the whole thing if it wasn’t laughable.”

Steve gave you a tight-lipped smile before Bucky covered your view, handing the two of you drinks. Steve was grateful for the break in eye contact. He wasn’t sure how he could tell you that misogynistic behaviors like that were so prevalent in his and Bucky’s line of work, and they jarred him in real life just as much as on the screen. Neither of them wanted a life like that, though, even if they had been a little misguided by the models in their youth.

The three of you settled in again, you and Steve throwing your feet on Bucky’s lap after he had almost sat on top of them.

You finished your drink and the movie, falling asleep there on the couch soon after. You woke up hours later with a blanket over you, borrowed sweatshirt folded at your feet and house as pristine as could be, two men nowhere to be seen and your door locked.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Brownie points if you can tell me what movie they watched.

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@evie-119

[bigtreefest]

I had to take this in doses because it was a lot. Peggy is absolutely awful! I hope Steve really gets some good revenge for both himself and Dovey.

And I love the way Dove knew the whole time Steve would find her and had no doubt. Now I’m just hoping Bucky will be okay since Steve made such a big deal about him risking his life….

Your Mark On Me, Part 15

Summary: things are no good.

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit. Dead dove do not eat

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit dark content, kidnapping, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of stealing money, degradation (not for sexual play), spitting, hitting, pinching, slapping, restraining, mocking, blood, human auction, forced removal of IUD, realization of voyeurism, sexual recordings without knowledge, dark imagery 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.4K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Rage. Blinding hot rage that boils every ounce of his blood. Hating himself doesn’t even cover it. Leaving you the way he did as a broken shell of the woman that he first met. You had shown resilience to his impossible needs. You had fallen so hard, and he still withheld how he truly felt for you.

The threat was enough to not just chill him all the way to the core of his being, but the video — whoever it was had caught him. Caught exactly what you meant to him on video. Words he had never spoken in years, and they had the evidence. Coupled with the threat of not only you, but Bucky’s Shy Violet. His unborn son. And Steve could not be responsible for that much pain.

Steve can barely see as he flees the hotel he left you in. A crumpled mess. A true depiction of the barren wasteland he left your heart. People don’t love as deeply as you did, and have someone rip it out with scars that may never heal. He’s an example of that. And he did it to the only person who he had ever truly been in love with.

He meant every word to you this morning, even the ones you would never hear. Why did this person, this entity hate him so much that he would threaten three people that had no part in this scheme? He had to tell Bucky. He also had to be able to visually see, and he can’t put anything into words except the red hot coils of desire to burn down the world.

Questioning if what he did was the right answer. He was told they knew his weakness, and you would be removed from his life. He beat them to it. He took away the person that they knew was his the one that would destroy him. But who? Who hated him that much to want to destroy him? Clearly it was competition but there was only one person, or people that were competitive with Steve.

“Sam?” The other man sighs. Hearing Steve's voice as wrecked as it was didn’t take much to realize what the idiot had done. “Who’s watching her?”

“You put Loki outside. Told him to watch her for a few weeks. Said that you figured she would move on. But you’re a fucking idiot.”

“They,” he yanks the steering wheel to the side of the road, throwing his car into park before pressing his palms into his eyes, and wills the tears to not spill over his lashes, “They were going to kill her and Bucky’s Shy, and…your family.”

“Figured as much. I told Nat to get the kids to the safe house. Just like you should have done with Dove. With her and Bucky there everyone would have been safe. You’re too fucking irrational. You don’t think. You should have discussed with me, and we could have came up with a plan. But you didn’t like that I heard what you said,” Steve pulls at wads of his hair, and he slams his fist on the steering wheel. “Love doesn’t make you weak.”

“I told you that you didn’t hear anything,” still in this world of denial and wanting to protect his ego. His pride? Protect anything but the person he truly cared about. You.

“You love her. You’re a coward that couldn’t even tell her to her fucking face. Is a million dollars really going to make up for what you did? You’re the problem here, Steve. She was the solution. Go back. Go get her, and I’ll take her to the safe house. I’ll leave Nat and Bucky with the kids, and Shy, and we will figure out what the fuck is going on,” Steve shakes his head. You hated him. He made sure to make you feel worthless to him, and hope that one day you could move on.

The thought of another man touching your flesh sears into his mind. Thinking this dumbass could ever hold you and love you the way he did. It was a toxic love, but he found serenity in your bright glow. The devil came to find his goddess of spring. The link that kept his underground hell blooming into the most beautiful chaotic garden.

Every morning he could see the sun shining on your face like you were the beacon, and it was trying to find you. But instead, Steve did. He tried to dim every bit of your light, and instead you changed him. And how did he repay you? He left you, his beautiful goddess, a void. Gave you every opportunity to turn into the darkness that he helped flourish. Instead, you were making him lighter.

You had a link to the depravity of his world that was Lark, and one wrong move and you would become a demon to addiction. A beautiful woman lively turned into a servant for drugs and the underbelly that he helped create. Try and be noble all he wants, he still sold a lie to users. He catered to the whims of one of the most powerful things in the world. Addiction.

“Sam,” he says as he starts to turn the car around. “I made a mistake.”

“Get your girl. I’m calling Bucky. We’ll keep her safe, and we finish this once and for all. It’s time,” without hesitation and very little thought Steve knows exactly where the threat came from. Peggy. The one who set this all off to begin with. No doubt a woman who thought she had broken Steve would be infuriated that he had managed to actually fall this time. The purest form of love. Childlike. He was in fact so in love with you it hurt him.

Pained every inch of his inky skin. He was only trying to let his Dove out of her cage, and let her fly alone. He was no longer the cage that kept you trapped. He was made pure again, and was a dove right along with you. He wasn’t meant to set you free, he was meant to fly out of his own cage with you.

He fucked up. He knows you may never forgive him for this whiplash, but if it meant that you were going to keep your life, that was the burden he would have to bear. He would carry the weight of that on his back for the rest of eternity as long as he knew you were alive and well. He had to. Because he was in love.

You don’t cry. You barely blink. Couldn’t even move to clean yourself off as per his request. That towel lays haphazardly on his spilt cum, and you stare up at the ceiling trying to make this a nightmare. He was a liar. That wasn’t Steve, and as much as you wanted to cut etches of his story off his skin, you wanted him to hold you even more.

It is a bizarre feeling to hate and need the same person. Time has no meaning on this bed. Earlier today you saw him for the man he used to be before Peggy tried to destroy him. And then he burned that man at the stake as he became the monster you first met. The lord of the underworld, and he brought you down into his depths, but maybe it was all one sided.

Watching as the room spins around you in a humiliating and dizzying haze. It’s why he couldn’t look at you. He has fought and fought his true feelings, and because he couldn’t accept them he had to remove the seed that was sprouting in his heart. The seed that was changing winter into spring and you saw lightness and color that once resided inside of his soul.

You hate him. And still, you’re in love with him, and you need him to hold you and tell you that wasn’t him. That he was sorry, and he was so in love with you and he was done fighting, and you doubt that moment will ever come. If you could close your eyes and never wake up that would be the most fitting. You didn’t want to see anything anymore.

“Dove?” Your eyes stare blankly up at the ceiling, and you swear there’s a pattern to the odd appearance of it. Dots that you feel are just the stars, and they’re covering you in a warm blanket. As warm as the fuzz that is thrown over your body.

“Sissy, how much money did he leave you?” Your blinks start to slow down, and you hope that they’ll eventually close forever so you don’t have this sickening feeling in your stomach. “I’m going to take this and invest in — things, yeah. You don’t need it. You’ve got your school you can bounce back on, okay?”

If there is one thing you wished it was that Steve could have quit fighting the inevitable. That he would have just admitted the feelings he had for you, and the two of you could run away. Money and power are just as dark of an addiction as the drugs he sold. And he was letting his addiction win.

“Won’t you let me get you dressed. You don’t want to leave here naked. And — he didn’t love you. That mess on your stomach is how he treats the girls he threw away at the club. Used their warm flesh to fill a need, and then…”

“You’re lying,” your eyes finally focus on your sister, and you turn and look away from her quickly. She no longer was the vibrant older sister you once knew. Either Steve had been lying about your addiction and usage, or she had found another supplier. “What happened to you?”

“You should look in the mirror,” you didn’t want to look at your face. You’d look like a bird with clipped wings that could no longer fly because that’s just what you feel like. “Get dressed.”

“What are you doing with the money?” You inquire. But she doesn’t respond just goes towards your bag, and opens up one. Tossing over a dress, and you finally take stock of what’s going on. Sitting up in the bed so see her clinging to the bag with cash in it. The stupor you were once in now is a dull pain of the past hour. “Lark?”

The door opens up to your room, and scramble to cover yourself. You know him. “Dovey, it’s time for you to go. He’s been waiting on you,” tears flood out your eyes as you shake your head. “You really want him to see you with Steve’s cum on your stomach. Your pussy fucked out, and tits hanging out? Now,” he clicks his tongue, snapping a finger at Lark, and your sister scurries out of the hotel room.

“It’s just you and me,” grabbing at your foot, he pulls you down to him and you kick and scream. Biting every time his hands touch you. Your reason to fight became apparent because whatever is wrong is worse than the empty gut you have now. “He threw you away!”

“Fuck you!”

“Keep fighting me, and it’s you that’s going to be fucked,” clearing his throat your room is flooded with men, and they all close in on you, struggling to hold on to your body before with one snap, you go into blackness. A darker world than you have ever ventured to. A world where things will never be the same. Left and broken, now stolen and restored. Fight is still there.

Steve sprints to your bedroom, racing through every part of it. Knowing without seeing physically that you’re gone. His hands pick up and throw everything in its path. Destroying the room just like he destroyed you. The luggage with clothes is still here, but the suitcase with money was gone.

Lifting up the mattress he flips it over, standing in the fucking room that was devoid of you. You were gone, and he can’t shake the feeling that you were taken. Stolen from this room, and from — he can’t even say himself anymore. Because he left you. You weren’t his to steal. He fucked up.

Chest heaving as his mind races on where you could be. He has an idea of who took you and it sickens him. He sees what Lark has become. Rumlow was the worst kind of drug dealer, because he dealt in more than just drugs, he dealt in women.

“Steve.”

“I fucked up,” he turns around. Eyes pleading at Bucky. “Why are you here?”

“Sam’s with the girls. I’m risking my life and the chance to see my future son because I can’t imagine what you’re going through. You fucked up, but I can’t let you wonder your what ifs or wonder where she is. I can’t let you lose the love of your life,” Steve shakes his head, the anger turning into the worst pain he’s ever felt in his life. As the last of his humanity is wrenched from his fingers. “Why can’t you say it? Does she mean that little to you?”

“She means more than any amount fucking words, Bucky. She means everything. Shy and Ember were threatened. Nat and the girls, and a lot don’t even know that Sam and Nat are together and have kids. Why do they want her?”

“They’re trying to make your kingdom crumble. The dark lord of the seedy underbelly. Ruled by fear and power. For a drug lord you had some morals, if that’s what you want to call it. And there’s…”

“Peggy,” Steve gulps, glancing around the room that is as messy as his head. Disheveled in every crevice. He has to clear his mind if he’s ever going to find you.

“I want you to make me a promise,” Steve nods. Taking a few deep breaths to center himself. It ends now. He won’t hold back. It’s time to burn the world down to save you. Rumlow’s entire organization will disintegrate. He doesn’t even care where the two of you end up. He needs to know you’re alive, and living the life you want. And he hopes you still can find a place to put him in it.

“If we find Dove, I need you to tell her exactly how you feel, you coward. Quit waiting until the girl falls asleep before you say it.”

“Deal.”

“Let’s go save a dove.”

You could look at Steve trying to destroy you as a good thing. There’s a numbness that courses through your veins, or maybe it’s just a sleepy fog since the moment he walked out that door. Staring at the sleeping form of the man that tattooed you while your arms are restrained above your head, you wonder how you slipped this far into this world of darkness. Your will to fight dormant and resting. Now you observe. Paying attention to everything while you remember every bit of this moment. Something eventually had to help.

You don’t hate Steve. In fact the reason he did what he did seems to be to avoid this bullshit right here. Protecting you from whatever this hell is, but he failed. He let the wrong one watch you. And your own sister somehow played a part. You’d cuss him for the fool that he is when he comes to rescue you. And then allow your exhaustion and anger to rain down him with a fury that is hibernating.

Your eyes start to droop a bit. The adrenaline and heart shattering moments hitting a climax so high that your body is spent. There is no time for fear, and no time for anger. It’s survival. Steve would find you, and you would kick him in his perfect balls for ever hurting you. Even though the idea of him throwing that door open to save you like a scarred Prince Charming was looking damn fine, you can’t ignore what he did.

“How long has it been?” A sickeningly sweet voice walks into the room, and her beady eyes look you up and down. “What is she wearing?”

“Whatever I could put on her. You said you didn’t want Rumlow to see her the way I found her. You’re still so concerned with him leaving you for someone else?” His head bounces to the side with the force of the smack she connects to his face. “Why else do you need her covered?”

“I don’t need to see what cunt Steve’s been shagging. Pretending that she was the only one while he was fucking Rumlow’s whores at the club,” you roll your eyes, but refuse to comment. Sam kept tabs on Steve, and even told you he’s never seen him so much as glance at another woman. Her tactics of wearing you down were futile. You couldn’t sink any lower. The bottom has already been reached and all in a few short hours.

“You’ve been fucking like rabbits, and he still hasn’t fucked a baby in you?” You spit on her, gaining a slap against your own cheek. Her red painted nail wipes of your saliva from her face before she embarrassingly rubs it on your face.

“That’s rich coming from a double crossing bitch. You can only smack me when I can’t fight back?”

“You’re a bitchy one, aren’t ya? So tell me, sweet princess, how have you remained without a bastard?”

“It’s called birth control, you idiot.”

“One I need to cut out of your arm? Or rip it out from between your legs? Or do you trust the pill?” What the fuck was this woman getting off on? You aren’t even sure what her fucking problem was, or why it concerned you so much. “Rumlow has suffered with his business, while Steve flourishes. He needs to be destroyed, but I much prefer slow torture,” her fingernails connect to your arm, and she uses far too much pressure to slide all over the delicate skin of your arms before her eyes zone in on your lower body.

”Remove it.”

“What the fuck? No!”

“Stick another fucking needle in her neck and remove it,” she is psychotic. More than Steve could have ever realized. “You know your pretty sister? Yeah, it was easy to break her spirit. It’s funny what money and drugs can get people to do. What would destroy Steve? To see you broken from another human. To see you as a ghost of who you were. A zombie that he can’t even recognize. You know how many people are willing to bid for Steve’s precious Dove? Use your body to work out their frustrations on their biggest competition. Your sister sold you out for money and drugs, but the good thing is she is no longer being pimped out. But you — Steve will never want you again. Remove it. She can be someone else’s problem.”

Her stilettos click out of your room, and Loki stands up to walk closer to you. You flail, screaming out obscenities and no towards him. Having very little room to get any leverage over him. They were all fucking mental. “No! Don’t touch me.”

”It’ll only sting for a minute. You keep getting stuck with this, you’re going to have a bigger problem,” his voice is cloying in your ear as he grabs your face. Coming closer to you with a needle before it drives into your body.

“No! No! Please, no!” Another wave of blackness. Falling into an oblivion of a dark void that has no end in sight. Whispering out, “No,” one more time, and crying because no one can hear you. Being stripped away from the only salvation you knew, and now becoming the exact opposite of what Steve desired the most in you. Untouched. She wanted to sell you, auction you off while Steve can either be searching for you, or pretending you never existed.

You just want to go home. Home to the cabin, and pretend that he was coming home to you. Hold onto happy moments while your humanity is ripped from you. You hate her.

Your head lulls back on your shoulders, and the dingy light of the room tries to filter through the darkness, and you try to grasp it. Hoping that light can save your soul from the monster Peggy was forcing you to become. You hate her.

He didn’t like it. He hated it. Hated that you were ever put in this position, and he had himself more to blame than anyone. The very thought of something going wrong just wasn’t an option. He didn’t need anything to go wrong. He needed you. He needs to know that you are okay, and you were free to live a life.

The thoughts of you choosing a life that didn’t include him was on his mind, but he couldn’t think of that. Everything had to be perfectly planned out. He knew that Peggy was a vindictive bitch, while Rumlow was a pathetic one. He assumes that they’re hoping for an appearance by him.

It wasn’t a secret what they were doing. Everyone knew they were putting you up for auction. The reception went from an absolutely no because they knew Steve’s vengeance would be grisly to the ones that were drooling and licking their jowls at a chance to fuck Steve over. But retaliation would happen. To all of them. There would be a retribution on every single person that participates in the selling of you.

Every last one of them will get the fiery death of his dreams, and if you wanted to facilitate he would let you watch as they all burn. He failed in the one thing he promised above all else and that was to protect you. He’d make it up. He would get you. Or he would watch it all burn.

—

There’s moments in your life where you freeze up. Your body goes into autopilot, and you’re just there. Going through the motions. While your body is numb to every poke, prod, and movement by someone else. Your mind is on high alert. Listening to every door open. Absorbing every conversation. Your eyes take stock of all that is around you. Memorize every face as you dream about their demise.

You knew there would come a time when you had to identify people because you still hadn’t given up hope that Steve would keep his promise. Rumlow was a boastful idiot and he was letting everyone know who he was going to have up on that stage. Steve would hear about it, and you didn’t doubt that he would have fun in taking care of everything.

That’s not to say that you didn’t want to add another scar on Steve’s body, and you wanted to scratch him, and maul his perfect face, but you need him to wrap those stupid beefy arms around you and carry you out of this disgusting place. You know if you allow your mind to go into the dark places that you would lose all hope, and you’d never stop crying. Or worse become the devil Peggy was trying to make you.

You didn’t even speak to them when they’d ask you questions. You’d just stare at them blankly as they pinched, slapped, and pushed you around. You wouldn’t allow yourself to let them break you. Not yet. When this is all over you could have those moments of clarity, but right now it’s just to survive. And that meant focusing on everything.

You even knew it took Loki exactly thirty-four steps to get to the chair that set outside of your cage. And another forty-two steps to get to the door. You knew that he was the biggest coward of all, and needed to hide behind a more powerful man. Scheming and lying through his teeth while he collects secrets and information as his own form of currency.

He was loathsome. Peggy was the worst bitch you had ever met in your life. A woman who didn’t want Steve, and also couldn’t bare to see him happy with another woman. The kind of woman whose ego got in the way of the bigger picture. While Rumlow was describable he had bigger reasons for doing this. Peggy’s reasons didn’t go past needing to make Steve feel emasculated.

Disgusting woman, all dolled up for a pretty picture. Steve wasn’t a hero, but he could admit it. She wants to act like there was a moral high ground that she was part of, and still involved with another drug lord. That man just didn’t ask questions. You’d come to learn that Steve did, and that’s why Peggy had to ruin him.

“Are you still sore?” It is a stupid question when your arms were always extended above your head, the fact that she made people remove something so personal from you. Sore didn’t even begin to describe it. “You still mad at me, princess? And if you fucking spit on me again…”

You roll your eyes up to meet her, a sinister smile tugging at your mouth. “Ghastly woman. It’s what you deserve. You can pay for Steve’s sins. They always do,” another one of her tactics is to make you think you were nothing but a fleshlight to Steve. But you knew better. “Do you know how many girls that he has made become a sex worker? Rumor has it he filmed porn right in the club.”

Blah blah blah. You did actually talk to Steve. You also listened. It’s something she didn’t do well. Cocky little bitches never wanted to be the quiet little girls that people think aren’t threatening. Like you. She sees a weak submissive bird. You weren’t weak, and you weren’t dumb. You had more knowledge than she could even fathom about the ongoings of Steve’s enterprise. And there’s one thing she forgets, those sex workers Steve employed had a choice. She had removed yours.

“Are you going to play your game of not talking again?” Smirking, you roll your eyes before concentrating on her shoes. You weren’t going to give her the respect to look her in her face. “You’re such a spoiled child. Did your daddy Steve not spank you enough?”

“Nope,” Steve was not your daddy. He was your Captain.

“You do speak,” god, she’s a pompous twat. If she was closer you would spit on her, just for telling you not to.

“I don’t make it habit of talking to trollops,” with a painted red nail, she slaps you across the face, and your mouth fills with the pungent taste of metal. You gather it in your mouth, waiting. She is already getting closer to you.

“You fucking bitch. I will enjoy seeing you sold, and I will revel in the ways that they use your body to fuck over Steve. And that man never cared for you. You were just warm wet flesh,” one step too close to you, and you let her feel the blood she brought with her slap. The red paints her neck such a brilliant color and you chuckle, “You were just a whore to him. Let him fuck you raw. Intimately. Wanna see?”

Spinning on her heels, she snaps a finger at Loki, “I want Steve fucking her stupid on a loop. Let her watch every moment that was ever a lie. Break her fucking spirit, so she knows Steve never loved her. He couldn’t. Because he loved me, and will always look for a replacement. But there's only one me,” if only she knew that the love that Steve felt for her was nothing compared to how he felt about you. You knew it. He told you.

The sound of his voice stings as the monitor is lit up with the two of you. Precious moments stolen, and there is no telling how many people had seen this. You keep your eyes on Steve, more than you ever did while he was pumping into you. Steve never said the words, but he also couldn’t act. The way he stares at you with so much passion and love, versus the anger he had when he broke up with you. Such a lying coward.

You sniffle, refusing to let any tears cloud your vision or run down your face. You were becoming immune to the physical pain, but seeing a private beautiful moment with Steve hurts so deeply. Even the way he paints your skin with his fingers after making love. Yeah, Steve fucked you and would fuck you hard, but what you just witnessed was sweet. Almost like the first time.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Loki staring at you, and you twist your head to gaze back quickly, causing him to flinch. “When you came to our home…”

“It was just a place for him to hide you and fuck you. Don’t make it seem so domestic.”

“Was this your plan all along? Fuck Steve over?” He shrugs his shoulders, moving to turn back around after making a face with Steve’s grunts on the television. “He’ll enjoy torturing you.”

“You think very highly of yourself. Where were you at when I found you? Broken, naked, and used on a bed. Let’s not forget the money your sister stole from you. What do you think she’s going to do with that much money? Face it, Dovey, everyone around you used you and then left you. Steve for your tight cunt, and your sister for money. You’re better off this way.”

“Don’t call me that,” you wouldn’t let him win. Lark’s involvement is the most painful. Your therapist long ago told you drugs changed people. But inside of that body was still your sister. Somewhere.

“Don’t cry, Dove,” he mocks you as a single tear falls from your face. There’s no sincerity in his voice. And you want him to suffer from your own hands. “I finally know what it sounds like,” and you can’t wait to hear him plead for his pathetic life. His time will come.

You gulp as someone pulls on your leash. Fitted with a dog collar, and lingerie. You stare out blankly at the crowd as words about who you are and what the bidding starts off as begins. Faceless people litter a small crowd, and raised paddles keep being held up.

You try and focus on all their faces, see who is bidding the highest, and it is a zoo. Going so fast it makes you dizzy, and you sway on your heels. The price goes too high for average schmucks, and it seems it is a war between two people.

Both the man and woman are masked, and gloved, and neither have Steve’s features. You feel yourself for the first time slipping into despair. Feeling he didn’t actually care at all, and this is the result. Being sold like cattle.

“Two million,” the man say with finality, and the woman shakes her hand, refusing to pay that much. He left you. You really were worthless to him. Played in his stupid games.

“Sold to Mr. Wolf. Come collect your new pet,” the masked man stands up without a word. Pulling the leash from your handler before scooping up in his arms. Vacant. There’s nothing left. Steve left you to rot.

“I’ve got her,” he says into your ear, and it’s a weird sensation, causing goose pimples to arise on your skin. You didn’t have any idea why he was talking to you. You just need to forget the life you once came from.

The harsh light of the outside stings your eyes, and you start to regress in your body. The fight is finally over, and you just are in disbelief. “We’re out of the building. Clint, lock it down. Steve, I’m taking her to the safe house.”

“Steve?” Your body starts to tremble as the tears you have held in for far too long pours out.

“Shh, Dovey. I’ve got you, sweetheart. We’re going someplace safe, but Steve and a few others are burning this down. “Do you know if Peggy was in there?”

“She was bidding,” your words are whispered and confused, using a hand to squeeze on his metal arm, “Bucky?”

“I’ve got you. I gotta get you away,” he places you into the car, buckling you up before he gets in the seat himself. “We’re outta here. Send them right back to hell. Dove, were there any other girls up for auction?” You shake your head no, starting to curl into a ball. Your arms are still so stiff and sore. “She was all. You’ve got free range, Steve.”

Steve’s mouth curls into a gruesome grin. Eyes blazing as he heads towards the building, “Peggy is mine. Fucking bitch.”

Next

Masterlist

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[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"

[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."

[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

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You sigh and back up through the file explorer. Come on. Your frustration bubbles up until you feel sweat on your scalp. You squint at the screen, searching for what you need. You blow out through your lips and reach for your mug. The white one with the small agency’s logo on it. 

“Mr. Brenner,” you pivot your chair as you put your cup down, “I can’t find the Dubeau files. I was almost finished--” 

“Dubeau? Never heard of ‘em,” he doesn’t look away from his screen. You tense and nod. 

“Of course, sir, I must be misremembering.” 

You don’t argue. Not out loud. Just like always, you roll over and take it all. You hold it all in. When you lost something, you resign yourself to it. When you miss the train, you sit down and wait for the next, and when you’re told something is a certain way, it must be. And if not, you’ rather wait for the truth to leak through then speak up and make yourself the fool. 

You click around the files. That means you can move on. There’s a backlog of accounts to get through as it is. Ever since Wallace quit, you’ve been doing his work too. It was so unexpected. Strange how abrupt that was. He left his jacket behind but he still hasn’t come to get it. Well, once you find a better firm, you’re out the door just as fast. 

“Carson. It needs to be done,” Brenner says as he clicks his mouse lazily. 

You glance over. You can see the reflection of his screen in the glass of his framed accountant certification on the wall. It doesn’t look like a spread sheet. The colours move and you try not to think about what they resemble. 

“Got it, sir.” 

“What about Williams?” Geraldine suggests. 

Brenner clucks, “delete that. Thought I already did.” 

The tapping of keys continues. Geraldine is old and slow. Her work is reliable but not timely, and Brenner, the senior accountant, tends to do better at sweet talking clients than the paperwork. 

You focus on the Carson file. Like many of the clients, it’s a mess. Assets all over. Photos of wrinkled documents and few of loose cash on indeterminate surfaces. You don’t ask questions. You just figure it out. The place isn’t your first choice but with zero experience, it’s the only way you’ll have any. It’s a pathway to a better destination. 

The office is stagnant but for the clacking of keyboards and clicking of mice. Only Brenner’s heavy huffs and Geraldine’s incessant sniffling interrupt. You lean on your elbow as you compare your two monitors and input values. 

The front door opens and Geraldine stands. She deals with the walk-ins. She enjoys chatting with them. Sometimes too much. You suspect she doesn’t get much conversation with her two cats. 

“Oh, hello, aren’t you a strapping young man. My, oh, I know you,” she chimes, “Mr. Rogers. Yes, I recall.” 

The man sighs in response. You glance over as Mr. Brenner stands so quickly that his chair rolls back into the wall. He clears his throat and hurries around his desk. You haven’t seen him react like that for anyone. 

You stare at the man across from Geraldine. He’s tall and well-dressed. He wears a pinstripe suit with a pressed white collared-shirt, a sleek grey tie down his chest. Despite his tailored attire, his hair is overgrown, his beard too. There’s a permanent stitch in his forehead. 

Rogers... it sounds familiar. 

“Sir,” Brenner extends his hand as he approaches the other man, “how are ya? What can I do for ya today?” 

The other man looks at him dully and ignores his handshake. He sniffs and peers around at the beige walls. The place is enough to drive anyone mad. 

“I need an accountant.” 

“I didn’t know you were looking? Brian--” 

“Shut up about Brian,” the man snarls. “I’m not hear to chat.” 

“Well, I can take care of it--” 

“You won’t,” Rogers insists. “The things you click on, I don’t need that risk. It’s off the books. No digital trail.” 

“Right,” Brenner agrees, “Wallace is... gone--” 

“Didn’t ask,” Rogers turns away from him and looks past the empty desk to you, “her. Come on.” 

He snaps then curls his fingers. Brenner bounces on his heels anxiously, “um, right, but Geraldine is more experienced--” 

“She’s wearing orthotics. I need someone who can run around,” the man snaps.  

“Yes, sir, of course, sir. I don’t mean to overstep,” Pete shows his palms. “Get your bag, sweetie. You’re gonna help Mr. Rogers for the day.” 

“More than a day,” he says as he checks his watch. 

“As long as you need,” Brenner agrees. 

You save the spreadsheet and slowly close down the Excel sheet. You wheel back in your chair, unsure, and reach beneath for the leather briefcase you splurged on when you got the job. When you still thought it was a professional office. 

“I heard about the engagement,” Brenner lowers his voice but the place is too small not to hear, “Sorry, buddy, that’s tough--” 

“I didn’t ask what you think,” Rogers bristles. 

You peer over again and find him staring. Impatiently. 

“Right, right, was just saying--” 

“And I’m not your buddy,” he growls. 

“Of course, sir,” Brenner preens. “I’m digging the new look. Growing out the hair. Very in vogue--” 

“Enough,” he waves past Brenner to you. “Let’s go. Boss is waiting.” 

You get up and snap the clasp on the plum briefcase as you shuffle in your kitten heels. You approach the man as you grip the handle and offer your other hand formally. “Hi, sir,” you introduce yourself. “What can I help with?” 

“We’ll get to it. For now, stay close,” he looks at his watch again. 

“Glad to be of service, sir,” Pete says. “I’ll waive the invoice--” 

He’s once more ignored as Rogers spins and marches for the door. Tension curdles in his wake and you look around. Brenner gives you a toothy cringe and shoos you, “don’t keep him waiting and for god sakes, smile.” 

You raise your brows as Geraldine returns to her desk. She sits stiffly as she rubs her hip and offers a sheepish look, “good luck, dearie.” 

Their nervous demeanour fills you with dread. Who exactly is this Mr. Rogers and why are they all so afraid of him? You can only be sure that you should be too. 

[ramp-it-up]

Worth the Fall

Summary: James Bucky Barnes WAS an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. Despite the fact you have questions about Bucky and your parents’ conversation at Thanksgiving, you’re hitting your groove as a couple, but there is no time for alone time.

Word count: 3.4 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This part of the story is getting everything caught up to a month ago, lmao. Thank you for continuing to rock with this story. And let me know if you like it (I hope you do!)

This fic is in the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after both You've Got Me Thinking and the Steve Rogers fic Peach III.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Initial angst, Steve and Peach, Bucky’s anxiety. No time for nookie! Flirting Intimations of sexting and phone sex. Praise kink, fluffy Bucky, horny Bucky, dom Bucky. F@cking versus making love, wall time, sex with clothes on, raw p in v, creampie, after care, intimations of oral (f receiving!) dirty talk, Bucky applies for a second job. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

————

You walked along the sand and inhaled the ocean air.

You were shaken to the core. 

Bucky Barnes had surely just taken your parents out to ask for your hand in marriage. But it was so soon, how could he be so sure?

Also, you were an independent woman. How dare he talk to your parents before he asked you to marry him!

He wasn’t your feudal lord.

You were scared witless and turned to the waves to try and calm down. 

“He loves the hell out of you, you know.”

Steve had fallen in beside you as you stared at the ocean. You looked up at him, trying to smile, but failing. To Steve you looked terrified.

“It’s just so….”

Steve smiled to himself, remembering that Bucky had purchased the ring weeks before, after just a few days of knowing you. But that wasn’t his story to tell.

“Just know that I’ve never seen him like this. And I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s never been so open, so determined with a woman before. You make him a better man. It’s truly amazing.”

Steve looked so earnest. Your cousin had done quite a number on him.

“You don’t have to be scared. You are ‘The One’ for him.”

This time you managed a smile and an arched eyebrow. You had a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about his best friend.

Steve chuckled.

“Gah. Don’t look at me like that. You and Peach and that eyebrow.”

You laughed at that and grinned, more relaxed now.

Steve looked off into the waves himself.

“So fucking cute…”

He looked down and kicked a rock, a small smile on his face. You could tell he had it bad.

“Thanks for the pep talk Steve-o. And I get what you’re saying. I love Bucky Barnes with all my might, making every other relationship I’ve ever had seem… trivial.”

You glanced at Steve, who was nodding at your sentiment.

“I’m just spooked at the possibilities. I mean…this seems…like a lot.”

“I know. Bucky gets intense.”

You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Understatement of the year. And you’re a lot like your friend.”

Steve looked at you, one eye closed from the sunlight in his eyes. He didn’t have any sunglasses and the sun highlighted his windswept hair and the planes of his handsome face. You were squinting at him and you could totally see why Peach let him touch her goodies. 

Steve was kinda hot.

You sighed.

“Listen. I’ll be alright. Bucky and I just need to chat.”

Steve smirked.

“Chat. Is that what the kids call it now?”

You laughed and swatted him on the arm as you continued walking again.

“Fuck you, Steve. But for real. Thank you for checking on me. I appreciate it. And I love you for it. I just wish my cousin could see this side of you.”

Steve scoffed.

“Fucked that up good, didn’t I?”

“Not gonna lie, she’s kinda blinded by rage right now. But don’t give up on her. She’ll come around.”

Steve looked at you skeptically and you shrugged.

“80– 75% chance she’ll come around.”

You both laughed.

“Just remember what I said yesterday. She’s a tough nut, but she has a huge heart behind that wall. She is determined about the success of that dance school and she is competitive as fuck. You know what to do.”

Steve grinned. 

“Yes ma’am, I do.”

—-

You and Steve re-entered the kitchen laughing, you holding on to his arm. 

Peach was at the table drinking coffee and dedicated to ignoring Steve.

“Thanks again for the pep talk Steve. I appreciate it.”

You gave him a long hug and when you separated, you saw Peach’s eyebrow cocked in what you could only imagine was the way Steve described. You stifled a giggle and leaned up on your tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

“You better stop before Bucky comes back and chops me in the throat.”

Peach humphed, and you knew exactly what she was thinking.

You laughed at Steve as he headed toward the stairs, ignoring Peach right back.

“I’m gonna go get my running shoes. A turn down the beach will help me get some of this tension out.”

You watched Peach as she watched Steve roll his neck and stretch on his way out of the room, her coffee stalled in mid air. Her head was on a swivel as he walked out of the room, checking out his formidable ass. She sighed and then remembered that you were there.

You looked at her and she looked at you.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I didn’t say a word, cousin. Yet. But we will talk later. Any coffee left?”

—-

The week ended up smoother than when Bucky and Steve arrived, and before you and he and Steve left on the jet back to New York, Bucky surprised everyone with an invitation to Vermont for Christmas. 

Your heart did a funny little thing because why would he invite your entire family on an all expense holiday vacation from Christmas Eve to New Years unless he was going to…

You couldn’t dwell on what ifs, and you didn’t want to spook yourself. You just decided to appreciate the moment.

It was funny watching your cousin’s face and the corresponding look on Steve’s. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be stressful at all.

Perhaps there would be entertainment.

—---

Later, back in Brooklyn, there was a whirlwind of activity as the Rebirth Foundation geared up for the annual summit and gala. 

During the second week in December, Rebirth Endowment recipients (which included your cousin this year!) flew in, were oriented and toured around New York City. The two culminating events were the summit, held at NYU, where there was an art lecture series, a panel, and the gala. 

Steve usually participated in the summit by himself, with Sam or Natasha sometimes joining him on stage along with the city’s movers and shakers in the art scene.

But this year Bucky was participating.

He said he wanted to be more prominent in the Art community moving forward as a path toward legitimacy, and you knew that tangentially, that had something to do with you.

When you got back from Thanksgiving, there was a week to prepare for the activities. Your Arts and Culture Alliance in Brownsville, as a part of Rebirth through the Howard Benson exhibit, was a stop on the tour, and you had a ton of work to do. 

Bucky and his three partners obviously had their own long list of to dos, but he also needed to be there for Steve, who was a wreck at the thought of Peach coming into town. 

Steve was so far gone.

But James Buchanan Barnes.

You’d never seen Bucky Barnes shook. 

Sure, you’d seen him excited, impatient, horny, angry, and a little irritated, but never truly nervous.

And you shouldn’t have thought it, but it was adorable. 

Friday night, you met your cousin at the airport and witnessed the beginning of her downfall. The cocktail reception later at the hotel had her, and by proxy your own, head spinning. 

You grinned at the way Steve was handling everything. 

Bucky was beautiful and you admired him as he toasted the guests, his beautiful tenor a nice contrast from Steve’s baritone as they both gave their salutations. Only you knew how anxious he was to speak in front of people and for everything to go well. You felt privileged.

You realized that James Buchanan Barnes was a good man who just wanted to be better for you and for his community.

And suddenly you were not afraid of a future with him.

—-

During this time, you two shared brief cuddles and quick kisses, furtive touches and brief bouts of handholding when you saw each other at events. The mornings meant salacious pictures and quick phone sex to take the edge off, but you weren’t able to luxuriate in each other as you usually did.

You missed Bucky’s full attention, but the fact that you were working together on something worthwhile was the shit. You loved this man and you wanted to work beside him as an equal, not just be his sex toy.

This was the week that you fell completely in love with Bucky Barnes.

Thursday was the day of the Rebirth Art Summit and Bucky was pacing up and down his home office, reading glasses switching locations from perched on top of his head, to his delectable mouth, to his handsome face as he reviewed his notes.

You looked up from the ones in your hands with which you were quizzing him and smiled at him.

“Jamie, it’s going to be okay.”

He stopped to look at you, a faint smile on his face. He came over and pecked you on the lips and gave you a hug.

“‘M so glad you are here tonight, even though you tried to stay away.”

You sighed into his chest and took a deep breath, inhaling his Bucky smell.

“I wasn’t trying to avoid you, I was just giving you space. I know tomorrow is important to you and I don’t want to distract—”

“Frumoasă. You don’t distract from anything. If anything, you add to my life. You add so, so much. I love you. And I miss you. I want you here with me tonight.”

You melted into him, chuckled and shook your head as he held you. This feeling was crazy.

“What?”

You heard his voice in his chest, but he didn’t move, except to sway just a little, as if soothing you. It worked.

“I love you too, Bucky. And I miss you too. So much. It’s wild to feel so much in such a short amount of time.”

You and Bucky had only been together about three months, but you knew this was it.

“When you know, you know, my love. And we shouldn’t waste any more time.”

You hugged him tighter. What was understood didn’t need to be said.

He kissed the top of your head and then moved back so he could see into your eyes.

“And having you in my space while I get ready for an important event is everything.”

You looked him in the eye, thinking of sucking his dick for being such a dream.

“Bucky…”

Bucky took your hand and raised it to his lips.

“Don’t look at me like that, Frumoasă. I will be forced to fuck you all night long, something that is long overdue.”

He kissed your forehead.

“But there is much work to do.”

You cast your eyes down and whispered, “You’re right.”

Bucky took you in, looking so demure and being so patient with him. It was such a turn on.

“Such a Good Girl for me.”

You wanted to fall to your knees, but you just bit your lip and went to sit back down, crossing your legs as you began quizzing him again. 

Soon, you told your pulsing pussy. Soon.

You worked late into the night and soon dozed on the leather couch in his study. The next morning, you woke in Bucky’s bed with a sweet note on your pillow. You smiled and knew that he’d carried you to bed and held you all night long.

—--

“You look like that damn heart eyes emoji, ya know.”

You sucked your teeth at your cousin’s comment, but you didn’t pull your gaze away from Bucky up on the dias the next day at NYU. 

You were proud and in awe of your man. Your smirk turned into a grin as he glanced at you and started to speak.

You were down bad. And Bucky was too. After almost two weeks with little to no physicality, your energy was at supernova strength and about to cause a black hole in the universe.

That’s how intense this thing was. 

You were wet and hard and soft in all the right places.

Bucky had to pause frequently for the interpreter, and it gave you a chance to make googly eyes at each other. You ignored Peach’s subtle retching noises as you concentrated on Bucky. But you cut your eyes over to her while Steve spoke and found her visibly eye fucking him. You smirked when she noticed you noticing.

“Bucky is pretty much the man.”

She was trying to distract you. You laughed.

“Fucking-A.” 

You nodded up at the stage.

“Steve is the shit too.”

You were shocked as hell when she responded.

“He’s amazing. I had no idea everything that he does. Have to say, I’m impressed.”

You elected not to tease her about her response. It seemed as if Steve was working the plan.

You resumed watched as Bucky did his thing. He was glowing, handsome and impressive as hell. No one would believe he was as introverted as he was. But he was flourishing in the spotlight, seemingly born for his. He exuded confidence. 

It was such a turn on.

—-

Bucky watched you watching him and talking to your cousin and knew your tells. You were probably wet and ready for him. He briefly thought of what he was going to do to you later before he refocused on the task at hand. Knowing you were there for him was such motivation.

When he made his way back over to you, you were an angel, giving him a huge hug and exclaiming, “You were so fucking good up there, Jamie! I’m so proud of you.”

Bucky felt his heart explode and although someone was pulling him away from you, he mouthed a promise in your direction.

—-

“Later...”

You definitely read those sexy lips and your heart started racing. You looked around for your cousin, expecting to be roasted, but she was nowhere to be found. You shrugged and made your way to the subway, assuming that she was gathering with the other recipients. There was more work to do in Brownsville and you were busy anticipating the night.

You waited all day for Bucky’s text to tell you what time Nico was picking you up, but it never came. The rest of the day flew by and by the time you were walking home, daydreaming of dressing up for the gala tomorrow night and what Bucky might wear, you happened to check your phone and saw messages he’d sent just 10 minutes before:

You looked so good today. Especially this morning. Good enough to eat.

I’ll be at your place in 30. Wear that bra, no top, that skirt, no panties, and those heels.

You blushed and thought of the mirror selfie of the cream lace lingerie set you were wearing underneath your cream colored cowl neck sweater and grey wool pencil skirt that matched your grey wool coat.

Yes, Daddy, you replied and picked up the pace to make it to your brownstone ahead of him, your heart beating a mile a minute.

You thought you were prepared when you opened the door after Bucky knocked, but you weren’t.

In fact, you were shaking with anticipation.

There he was, bundled up from the cold, but those blue eyes sparkling down at you.

Bucky stared at you for a beat, and then walked toward you, taking your face in his hands and backing you up against the entryway wall, kicking the door closed behind him.

“My Frumoasă. So good. So perfect”

And then he leaned down and kissed you.

—-

Bucky had the strangest thought as you opened your door.

I’m home.

Although this was not his place, he realized that you were his home and that he couldn’t wait to make you his wife. His eyes swept down your form, pleased that you had followed instructions. You were such a badass, capable woman and partner and he just had to be inside you soon. 

He complimented you and his cock stiffened as your mouth parted in desire. He knew your praise kink very well. Bucky cradled your beautiful face and moved inside to kiss you.

His demanding mouth parted your trembling lips, sending tremors through your body. You clung to the lapels of his coat to tether you to earth as his tongue invaded your mouth. You suckled it, previewing what you wanted to do with his cock later. 

He pulled away, his bright blue eyes blazing, and his jaw clenched so tight as he shrugged out of his winter coat. If you didn’t know him so well, you’d think he was angry, but the look was desire. 

And only for you. You grew warm from the inside out.

“I can’t wait. Wanna make love to you, but I have to fuck you now.”

Bucky bent his knees and grabbed your thighs, prompting you to wrap your legs around him and hold on to him as he walked you over to your couch.

You attacked his face as you were sat down firmly on the bulge in his pants and Bucky accepted your assault, chuckling as you kissed him from his hairline, to his forehead, down his nose, each cheek, skipping over his lips to his stubbly dimpled chin and finally back to that mouth. When he kissed you again, his hands were everywhere, starting at the nape of your hair, pulling so your neck was exposed as his mouth moved down to mark you up, then trailing down to your fine lace bra cups.

Bucky palmed your full breasts, weighing them in his hands and watching your face as he twisted your nipples. You nipples tightened under his touch and you arched your back, moving and giving him a view of what was underneath your skirt. He admired your ardor, you squirming and moaning on his lap.

It was his dream come true.

“So fucking hot, Frumoasa. I’ve been craving you. All day. All week. Ever since Thanksgiving. Since I first laid eyes on you.”

“Bucky…need you.”

You grasped the lapels of his jacket as his hand traveled down your torso and as he leaned down to travel under the hem of your skirt. Your soft fingers peeled his jacket away and unbuttoned his shirt. You opened it and ran your hands down his chest, rubbing his nipples with your thumb and trailed your hand down to his happy trail and proceeded to try and undo his belt buckle.

Bucky grew hot at the warmth of your thick thighs and the way your cunt was so hot that he could feel it through his pants. 

He had to have it. 

Panting now and desperate, Bucky tugged your skirt up, flashing your bare pussy, but it was difficult to get rid of because it was still buttoned. It slipped out of his hands and he grunted in frustration.

“Ah, poor baby…” 

You leaned forward, brushing the locks of hair that had fallen into his flushed face, grazing your nipples across your chest with a sexy smile.  Bucky whimpered and you smirked at his desperation. You slowly reached behind you to your zipper, pushing your chest toward Bucky’s face. He licked his lips and pulled your bra cups down, causing your warm breasts to spill out and his hands to be drawn to them again like magnets as he watched you loosen your skirt.

When you grabbed the hem to bring it over your head, he released you, watching as the fabric moved above your crotch.

Your pussy. Fuck.

Bucky could never get enough of staring at it, the dark petals, which were spread open for him as you sat on his lap were calling his name. He licked his lips, suddenly parched.

“What are you thinking about, Bucky?”

You had a pretty good idea, but you wanted, no needed, to hear Bucky’s voice right now. You reached behind you again as you unclasped your bra and suddenly you were naked on an essentially fully dressed Bucky Barnes.

It was sexy as hell. 

“I’m thinking that your pussy is a work of art, Frumoasă. It’s perfect. I’m thinking that I want to spend at least eight hours a day between your legs, make you cum over and over again, make you beg me to stop, and to start again. How I want you to taste you and make you squirt so I can swallow you down…”

You moaned and started grinding on his bulge, causing Bucky to curse.

“Damn, Baby. You’re gonna make me jizz in my pants like a teenager.”

Bucky grabbed your ass and reached between you to tease your clit, feeling how wet you were.

“Fuuuuuck, you’re so wet.”

Bucky’s eyes rolled as he grabbed your waist and lifted you to your knees on either side of him as he unzipped his pants and pulled them and his underwear just down past his ass to get his cock out. He grabbed your cheek as he stroked himself and rubbed his thick cock head in your juicy pussy.

“Fuck me Frumoasa. Slide down this dick for me.”

You brushed Bucky’s hair off his forehead again as you nodded and started to slide down his fat, hard cock. Your head lolled back on your neck as you reached the root of him.

“Oh… Bucky… Fuck….”

You could feel Bucky pounding inside you, long thick cock battering your cervix and you whined, leaning back and working your hips as Bucky fucked up into you and thumbed your clit while the other hand guided you up and down his dick. 

His jaw was clenched and his eyes were shining as he looked up at you. You knew he was close and you couldn’t take it.

He started to speak and you knew it was over.

“Frumoasă. I-I’m gonna need you to… oh holy fuckkkkkk!”

His stutter made you start to cum.

As soon as your pussy started spasming around him, Bucky started shooting his spend all over your warm walls causing you to convulse and hug his head to your chest. He clutched you to him, whimpering as he held onto you for dear life as he came.

He collapsed backwards, taking you with him as you became boneless in his arms. You rolled off of him and curled up on the couch as Bucky stood and untangled himself from his clothes.

You closed your eyes for a minute as he got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm cloth to clean you up. When he finished, he kissed your forehead and gathered you up in his arms.

“You turn me on like no one else, Frumoasă. You’re it for me. I love you.”

You cuddled into him as he lay you in your bed.

“Me too, Bucky. You’re my one. I love you, too.”

Bucky kissed your forehead again, and then proceeded to move down your body.

“Good, now. I need to clock into my main occupation. Hour one of eight.…”

—-

If you like it, hit Reblog! ☺️

Read the next part, Peach IV (SR)

[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

[thezombieprostitute]

Your Champion: Introductions

Summary: Former boxing champion Steve Rogers gets a new life as a collector for the mob.

A/N: Inspired by a tag I received from @alexakeyloveloki

A/N2: Part of the Yours AU.

Warnings: Implied abuse, Violence. Please let me know if I missed any! There will be non/dub con later in the series.

"It's not what you know, it's who you know" is one of the biggest truths in Steve's life. He was in and out of trouble pretty much every day of his life until he met up with Fury. Fury got him off the streets and into the ring. He became a champion. And he couldn't be bought.

That's how he met Bucky. Bucky was an up-and-comer in a new gang that was steadily building power. He'd made a lot of money betting on Steve. He regularly bet on him when he'd learned that Steve was approached by other gangs, trying to rig the match, but had thrown them all out on their ass. Bucky respected that.

Unfortunately the representatives of those other gangs didn't care for how they were treated. Steve was ambushed, taking a major beating, and a couple bullets, that left him unable to ever fight in the ring again.

When he was healed up, Bucky offered him a job as a collector. Easy money, easy work, and he'd be taken care of. Nick liked that Steve was a man of integrity and approved the hiring. Steve was the one that took some convincing. Only after he was shown how Fowler was investing money in actually taking care of the community, that protection money actually got people protection, did he agree to the job.

Soon he learned another benefit of the job: he could punch bullies and abusers without reproach.

Which is how he met you.

Your father was a gambling addict and a thief. If you'd ever had anything of value it'd been stolen and pawned off to fuel his bad habits. Every penny you made working at the grocery store had to be spent on food and bills before he remembered it was payday. If he even thought you were holding out on him he'd fly into a rage. You couldn't afford any more hospital visits so you had to give him what he wanted.

You were making your nightly meal of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a small yogurt, your biggest meal of the day, when the door suddenly burst in. You screamed in surprise as your father shouted and started to get out of his recliner. He'd barely gotten out of his chair before he was pushed back down by a tall blond man. You curled up into a ball, too scared to do anything.

"You owe Fowler a lot of money," the blond tells your father.

"I can pay it, I promise! I've had a lucky streak---" Your father is cut off by a backhand to the face. You whimper as you see the blood from his split lip.

At the sound the blond turns to you. "Who are you?"

You manage to stutter out your name.

"You his girl?"

"His daughter."

"You want her? Take her!" your father is quick to add. "Take her to pay off my debts!"

You don't have time to register your father's words before the blond punches him so hard the recliner falls back. You start crying out of fear, covering your eyes, wishing you could just be invisible like you were to everyone else.

The blond crouches down so he's eye level with you. He's cooing, "it's okay. You're not in trouble. You're not gonna get hurt here. He'll never lay another hand on you, I promise." He takes your hands away from your face and gets a good look at you. "You work at Pete's grocery, don't you?"

Surprised, you can only nod.

"I've seen you working there," he confirms. "You work hard. Lotta hours from what I hear." Looking around the meager apartment he looks back to you, "I'm guessing he gambles it all away?"

Again, you can only nod.

He holds out his hand to you, "I'm Steve, by the way. I'm going to make sure you never have to worry about anyone like your father ever again."

Next Chapter

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[stuckyslut8]

I'm so very tamed now .part 2

Part 1. Masterlist.

A/N : don't know what took me so long to make a part 2 ( just life I guess)but her you go lovelies, sorry for the delay.

Pairing: mafia stucky x spy reader.(poly)

Summary: Bucky finally gets the information our of you, but you both manage piss steve off even more, so you have to deal with the consequences .

Warnning :poly stucky dom steve, bratty Bucky, sub reader , self proclaimed brat tamer Bucky,edging, spanking, angy steve 😡, a few tears. No beta reader. 18+ under the cut. Minors dni.

Bucky has you all spread out on his bed, hands cuffed to the bed, completely naked , completely at his mercy.

"are you gonna do something barnes or are you just gonna stare at me all day " you ask him mockingly.

"oh you'll see sweets." He says with a wicked grin, as he pulls out your favourite vibrator and before he pushes it into you , turning it up to the highest setting.

"ughh Bucky." You moan not being able to control your pleasure.

"see pretty girl, I don't have much time , steve is already annoyed so you better tell me everything." He asks as he tries not to palm himself at the sight of your but he couldn't resist he takee out his already hard cock and starts jerking off in front of you, adding to your pleasure.

"or -ughh - or what barnes?" You manage to say in between moans.

"or I'm gonna keep making ya cum until you can't." Your eyes widen at that.

"you see last time I edged ya ,it didn't turn out well so now I'm gonna make try something different." You came instantly as he said that.

"see that's my good girlz we'll see how long you can keep going before giving in." He said as hmm.

Five orgasms later , you still wouldn't budge.

"see I'm almost getting bored ,just spit it out already, the vibrator's battery is gonna die"

"that's all you got?" You challenged him

"fine , I'll do this my way." Bucky said as he pulled the vibrator away from you, looking at your wet pussy.

"see my poor pussy can't take it , she's exhausted.." he cooed as he collected some of your cum with his fingers and sucked them.

"don't tell me what I can take barnes."

"if you insist sweets." Bucky suddenly fills you up with his cock and starts pounding into you, lifting your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. You both moan, and grunt.

"now you better tell me sweets , who do you work for?" He asks as he fucks you into oblivion.

"ughh Bucky ... I'm gonna ." You said as you reached your high.

"me too angel, me too, now why don't you tell me ,so we can both come together ." You were about to give in Bucky knew, you just needed a little push.

"you know steve is gonna be very mad at me, if I don't get the information Outta you after all this trouble...so please tell me sweets,I swear I'll stay right by you whatever it is."

"fine fine...i ughh work for stark, stark sent me " you finally spit out the truth.

Just then steve came barging in the door, " steve i found the information, she works for..." Bucky was about to say .

"stark i know" steve finished his sentence" i just met him. " Not impressed by Bucky.

"well I just got the information Outta her, see i told you my tactics never fail." Steve rolled his eyes at Bucky's answers, although he was certainly aroused by the scene in front of him,you begging Bucky to let you cum.

"well of course I'll let you cum sweets, daddy is having a conversation right now wait a minute" the brunette man told you.

"stop being such a whore buck" steve yelled at him.

"you know you damn well love it steve, infact i know you're enjoying our doll begging to cum right now" while you were still whimpering begging Bucky to cum.

Steve was definitely aroused by the sight in front of him but tried to keep his composure.

"shut up Bucky, she's being a brat and you're only defending her." Steve said.

"she is brat and I'm not defending her , I'm punishing her can't you see?" Bucky asks

"damn well you are, look at her not one ounce of regret in her face,you're not making her relaise anything,you're just giving in to her bratiness."

"daddy please lemme cum" you beg him with doe eyes, Bucky is still in you , you try to fuck yourself on him, lifting your hips. "Just a minute sweets" Bucky says.

"no get off of her" steve says angrily.

"what the hell steve" but steve pushes Bucky aside before he could finish his sentence.

"I'm gonna show her what real punishment is and make her realise what she has really done to us, how much she's hurt us, so stop coddling her and move buck" steve says as he takes off his clothes.

"stevie.." i whimper as Bucky's thick cock is removed from your heat.

"shh shut up you brat ,you only call me sir from now, understood?" Steve said giving a hard spank to your dripping pussy making me moan.

"yes sir" steve flips you onto your stomach, you were waiting nervously as to what he was gonna do.

"now I'm gonna spank you properly you brat and you're gonna take it like a good slut and thank me alright " he says

"yes sir." All while Bucky watched the scene unfold in front of him, he knew you were in big trouble now but he enjoyed it at the same time.

"good girl do what daddy steve says " Bucky said .

Steve gave his first spank it was real, unlike the playful ones Bucky gave you, it stung almost leaving an impression.

"thank you sir." I say. *He spanks again.

"thank you sir"

*spank

*th thank you sir."

After 10 spanks , Steve stops leaving your bottom so red and your pussy dripping.

"you did so good doll taking your punishment like a good girl" Bucky said patting your head.

"thanks daddy" you manage to whimper.

"your punishment is not over yet brat." Steve says with a stern look.

"but.."

"no buts get on your knees .."

You do as he says, steve roughly grabs your hips and thrusts his hard cock in you, making you moan. "Ahh daddy.." steve pulled out immediately,and spanked you again." What do I tell you to calle me you brat.."

"sir?"

"yes and you'll only call me sir from now, no stevie, no daddy understood?" He said slapping my ass again.

"yes sir"

Bucky thought he was being a little too harsh on you. "Oh come on steve she just called you daddy she -" Bucky started to reason .

"you shut up punk or youre gonna be punished next." Steve said and went to sinking his cock back into your dripping cunt in one swift motion.

"ohh yess sir please-" you moaned

"please what you little slut?" Steve asked pounding into you ,making the bed shake, Bucky was happily jerking off to it at this point, knowing trying to defend you was pointless and that would only get you into more trouble, plus he knew steve would never hurt you,no matter how mad he was , he was only doing this because he was deeply hurt by your betrayal.

"please sir, fuck me, please don't stop." You pleaded .

"and why would I listen to you?" The blonde said.

"because...because..."

"because what ?" He said slamming his hips into you.

"because I love you and ...Bucky i uh-" tears we're streaming down your face at this point, both from the pleasure and the guilt of the whole situation,you knew you hurt steve and pushed him to this point.

Steve laughed mockingly. "Really you love- you love us? Don't lie you little slut" steve was about to cum but he contained himself not giving you the satisfaction.

"I'm not lying...i really, really love you both. I'm sorry about everything." A million things were going on Steve's mind.

Just then Steve's phone rang, he picked it up from the night stand while still in you.

"hmm alright I'll be there-" he spoke into the phone. He pulled out of you, leaving you whimpering.

"what happened baby?" Bucky asked , knowing something was wrong.

"nothing it's uh- take her to the safehouse right now, I'll go take care of some things."

Bucky knew better than to argue with steve at times like these so he only nodded.

Steve left the room, Bucky gently cleaned you up, while you were still getting out of the haze. "Pack your things baby." He said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"what's going on?" You finally decide to ask

"stevie's orders ,don't ask any questions for a while." He said .

And you complied, going on to pack some of your stuff ,but you had a pretty good idea of what's going on, you took your pistol from the hidden cabinet in your bathroom just in case .

[sarahowritesostucky]

Happy Little Family

📖"Taking Back What's His"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6170

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"

2. Taking Back What's His

(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuring—he’s pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.

When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, it’s the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. It’s nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You haven’t experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.

Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago. 

“Oh, kotenok, You haven’t been fucking anybody.” 

You’re still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear James’ pleased chuckle from where he’s getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. “Hey Sweetheart. Feeling good?” 

You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you aren’t happy, that this state he’s fucked you into isn’t real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little “no" that makes James laugh.

“Come here.” He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure you’re steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. “You good?”

“M’fine.” He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. You’re not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything that’s going on, can still remember June. “Please,” you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. “Let me give her to Hilde.”

James rolls his eyes. “Right, right. Your friend across the street.”

“Please James?” You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. “She’ll be safe there.”

Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. “Sure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.”

You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that he’s not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isn’t stupid, you’ll give him that.

In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that she’ll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, it’s blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, you’re able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isn’t scared. 

It’s when you’re crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.

You stop moving long enough that James notices. “What’re you doing? Come on.”

You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. “I … have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,” you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, who’s squinting at your tits.

“Bottle?” He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.

“Yes. Asshole. I won’t exactly be around to feed her, now will I?” 

His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. “Right. Well go on, then.” 

You move for the hallway, realize he’s not following you, and turn back in confusion. He’s beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m waiting right here until you come back upstairs,” he says, his message clear. 

Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. You’re useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. “No games.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs. 

It’s pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasn’t followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.

Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. June’s still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone ‘beep’ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer. 

Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no no— 

“Looking for this?” 

You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.

His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. “I have to say, Doll, I’m impressed. I would’ve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?” He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. “Jesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didn’t you?” His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand he’s holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.

Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but you’re frozen. Bolting now wouldn’t even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it, vorishka?”[little thief]

He’s taunting you with your own failure, and you can’t stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. “James,” you plead, “I didn’t—”

“Shh sh sh. None of that, now.”  He’s speaking softly, sweetly, but he’s furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. “So what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?”

“N-no.”

“Ah. Right. You’re smarter than that. You would’ve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"

You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. “You can’t hold that against me,” you say, trying to defend yourself.

He nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can’t blame you for that.” Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “But do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?” Your face pinches in fear, sure that you’re about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. “The fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and I’ve never even fucking seen her.” 

Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s mine?” 

“James,”

“All this time!” he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. “You kept her from me! What gives you the right?” 

“I—I didn’t—”

He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. “Nothing, is the answer you’re looking for. You had no right to do that.” 

You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. “James, wait …”

He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you you’re about to die. “Say goodbye, mamochka,” he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger. 

It’s a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know you’re about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. It’s an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth would’ve been. “Don’t hurt her,” you gasp.

His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger. 

… Nothing happens, but you’re bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you haven’t been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like you’re about to faint, which is apparently what he’s waiting for. 

He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. “What the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?” 

You step back again when he moves. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, don’t,” he whispers, mocking you. “Don’t what? Don’t take back what’s mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didn’t get to see grow or come into this world?” Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesn’t miss it, the bastard. “Yeah,” he says darkly. “You robbed me of that. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry.”  He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. “I’ll be putting another one in you real soon.”

You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens. 

“Woah-ho, easy there.” He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though you’re nothing but a tantruming child. “Stop being so dramatic.”

You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as you’re hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. “Mmph!” you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but it’s less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. “Mmph!”  

James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Shhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. It’s all over.” 

“Nngh!”

“Just take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everything’ll be alright, I promise. Just relax.” You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your body’s going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, “or our daughter.”

The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.

And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,” he says. “Welcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.

You sit up straighter in the seat where you’d been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:

James—He found you. 

June—She's not there.

"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"

You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room you’re in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabin—Shit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye. 

Bucky’s eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,” he says, still watching you in concern. “Get her a bottle of water."

“Sure thing, boss.”

And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.

They've got June.

Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little ‘meep’ of a sound. “Steve!” you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that you’ve spoken directly to him. He’s not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and it’s like seeing a wild animal right next to your baby—dangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on June’s body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that she’s asleep. “I-is she okay?” you ask, heart in your throat. 

Steve’s eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. “She’s fine.” 

Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. “He’s going to put her down. There’s a crib in the back. She’ll be fine,” he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. “You and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.”

“I thought we did that back in my bedroom,” you snap.

“You still want the water?” Steve asks.

“That’s okay.” Bucky keeps his eyes on you. “I’ll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.” 

Steve nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Wait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?” You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you. 

“She’ll be fine,” Bucky assures you. “Just sit back and relax. We won’t be in the air for too long.”

You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James won’t hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. There’s a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.

… Only, James was never any of those things.

“This is your plane?” you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.

James smirks. “What? You thought I’d kidnap you and then fly commercial?” 

You purse your lips at his joke. “I guess not.” You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that you’re already on a plane with him. You’ll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get to—

“Stop it,” James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. He’s giving you a stern look. “You barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now we’ve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.” He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me again, omegechka.”

“I’m not?” you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what he’s planning for your punishment. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m just taking back what’s mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?” You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. “That’s okay. You’ll see it eventually. This isn’t a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you would’ve seen it before, and we wouldn’t have to be going through this right now.” He raises his drink to you in a little salute. “You, me, and pchelka? We’re going to be a family.”

You don’t refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly could’ve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. You’re only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you don’t protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago you’d been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you weren’t. One minute you’re sure you’re about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, he’s got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss. 

“I had a whole renovation done for her,” he tells you. “Pchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.”

You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You don’t care if he’s bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. It’s no place for a child. “What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. “That word: chelk—? You keep using it. You can’t just rename my daughter.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. “Pchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.”

“Oh … Right.” You love that set. It’d been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.

“And she’s my daughter too,” James says tightly.

You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. It’s silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. “Her name is June,” you offer quietly.

His face draws tight with emotion that’s impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. “You made me think you’d lost it,” he eventually whispers. “How could you do that to me?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry.” 

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I found you.”

“I saw you kill people, James!” you cry. “I saw who you really are. I couldn’t stay. Not after that.”

His mouth ticks up at the corners. “Oh, Sweetheart. You’ve got no idea who I am, or what I’ve done for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. “Do you even remember where we met?” 

You frown. “Of course.” You’d met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party you’d been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired ‘pretty girls’. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And you’d fallen for it, hook line and sinker. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he says disdainfully. “Don’t know how lucky you really are. I saved you.”

You scoff. “You’re no different from those boat guys. You think you’re so special, God’s gift to omegas, I get it.”

“No,” he grits. “You really don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christ’s sake!”

“Right, right. The men you saw me kill,” he says, referencing the scene you’d walked in on just before you’d faked your miscarriage and fled. “You were eavesdropping outside the door, weren’t you, Little thief?”

You jut your chin out. “Yes. So what?” 

“You know, I’d always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.” 

“What?”

He laughs under his breath—at your expense, you suspect. “Who exactly do you think they were?”

“Your business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.”

James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.

“What?” you snap. “You’re gonna deny it?”

“I’m not denying anything. But I killed them for you.”

“Oh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.” 

Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadn’t ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to “on business” every few days. It’d taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.

Sitting in front of you now, he doesn’t deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. “I don’t want that in my life,” you hiss. “Arms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.”

His eyes flash. “They don’t call it that, you know. It’s called the ‘skin trade’.”

“I don’t care.”

He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. “Right,” he snaps, like you’re an idiot. “You’re so fucking naïve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that I’m the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it could’ve been for you.”

“You threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!”

Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. “I knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,” he says, making your breath catch. 

“How?”

He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, “I put that baby in you, moya omegya. She’s a part of me. You think I wouldn’t be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesn’t know the scent of his own flesh and blood?”

You tense, fighting not to shrink away. “You’re making that up.”

He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. “Sweetheart,” he purrs, “I may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.” He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. “I found you by your scent,” he whispers. “Sniffed you out.”

You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isn’t anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect he’s had on you. “I wouldn’t have sold her anyway,” he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. “I want you to know that. I don’t participate in the skin trade.”

You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You don’t know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. “But you’re aware of it,” you say. “You know it happens, and you don’t do anything to stop it.”

His jaw works in frustration. “I’ve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.”

“Well, aren't you a hero.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I’ve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they don’t take kindly to being stolen from.”

“I can imagine.”

“No,” he mutters into his drink. “You really can’t.”

There’s something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. “... How much?” you ask.

“What?” His eyes darken when he figures out what you’re asking. “No.”

“Tell me.”

“It depends,” he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."

Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. “Well what about me? How much would I go for?”

“Kotenok,” he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little, 

“Come on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You can’t even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?” 

He probably knows you’re trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. “Well,” he drawls, “you just had a baby. So that’s less right there.” Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. “You’re the one who asked,” he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like it’s hurting him to consider you this way. “Most people want their omegas untouched,” he says quietly. “Especially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. It’s an instinctual thing for us. We’re very driven to possess. We don’t like to share.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter.

His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. “You’dve been a couple million, back when we first met.”

Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. “But … I wasn’t even a virgin.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.” He leers at you. “Not that there aren’t some who’ll pay a little extra to pop a girl’s cherry. But that’s not the main thing they’re looking for, when they buy.” 

You scowl. “Right. So I guess I’m damaged goods now."

“Oh no, mamochka,” he says seriously. “You’ve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say I’m more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. “You’re not for sale, and you never will be. You’re mine.”

You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you can’t keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like you’re his most prized possession. With any other man you’d just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. There’s always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. It’s the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what it’ll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you mumble quietly. “Where is it?” 

“Just down there.” He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.

You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re walking away.

“Don’t take too long in there, kotenok,” he purrs from back in his seat. “Or I’ll have to come in after you.”

In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like you’re looking at another person, someone you don’t know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. June’s been sleeping through the night for months, but it’s been a hell of a day.

You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much you’ve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. You’ve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. It’s been awful, and lonely, and you’ve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him. 

You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.

Oh.

You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. It’s James’ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen. 

Why does this have to be happening?! You’ve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before he—

A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. “Doll?”

You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. “Honey,” he mourns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?” 

You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isn’t blocking. “Leave me alone!” you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. “Leave me alone!” you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isn’t suffused with James’ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that you’ve started.

He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says.

“Just leave me alone,” you whine miserably. “Go away!”

“Shh sh sh.” He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. “It’s okay,” he murmurs between kisses. He doesn’t try to get you to stop crying, or ask you what’s wrong. He seems to know exactly why you’re breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. “S’okay, s’okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you now. It’s all gonna be okay. Shhh.”

At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you can’t seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isn’t there. 

“You feeling a little better?” he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.

You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. “I’m fine,” you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. “Just got a little sad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”

You hate how he says it, because it’s obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much she’s missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you it’s okay and that you’re allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, you’re just grateful that he isn’t rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You don’t fight to get away from him.

The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once you’ve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. It’s a gesture of comfort. He’s not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that you’re facing away from him. 

The plane shifts noticeably, and James’ hand pauses on your hip. “Pilot said we’re landing soon,” he murmurs. “Should probably go and get pchelka up.”

You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already he’s got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. “Pchelka,” you whisper, trying out the word. 

“Yeah.” He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. “Little bee. Come on. Let’s go.”

You don’t think about how it’s far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until you’re back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. “This isn’t Russia,” you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but you’ve only been in the air for a few hours at most. “James?” you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. “Where are we?” you breathe.

James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. “Home,” he says. “We’re home.”

A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!💖Sarah

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[deliciousangelfestival]

Guilt

Character: Mob!Bucky x Police!Female Reader

Summary: "Of all the women in the world, does she have to be a cop?" Bucky, a gangster, fell in love at first sight with a policewoman.

At the golf course, two outstanding men in the mob world are playing golf together to have a quiet time, to forget the worst day at the club they owned.

Steve, the second person in charge, still feels frustrated, while Bucky, the leader, is the only one enjoying the game.

"Of all the women in the world, does she have to be a cop?" Steve, his childhood friend, asked as he watched Bucky hit the golf ball.

Bucky clenched his fist in frustration as he made the shot. Turning to Steve, he replied, "I can't help it. She just took my breath away the first time I saw her."

Steve sighed, recalling the first encounter between Bucky and the policewoman when their club was unexpectedly visited by the narcotics police force.

Steve sighed, "She's known as a scary person, even among her colleagues," he said, relaying what he had learned from his connections.

"And from what happened last night, I feel like she holds a big grudge against people like us," Steve continued, reflecting on the recent events. Most of the cops he knew turned a blind eye to their business dealings, never getting involved with drugs.

Bucky remembered how composed you had been last night, effortlessly throwing punches and giving orders to make arrests. He even recalled the moment you pushed him to the ground and handcuffed him.

At that instant, he knew you were different from other women.

Bucky took another swing at the golf ball, causing it to fly too far. With a smile, he declared, "I will make her mine."

Steve sighed deeply, realizing that once Bucky had made up his mind, no one could stop him.

As Bucky began his courtship, he tried various approaches to get closer to you:

1. He sent you flowers with cryptic notes, hinting at his admiration and interest.

2. Bucky strategically positioned himself at events where you were present, making sure to catch your eye without being too obvious.

3. He orchestrated chance encounters, bumping into you at coffee shops or restaurants, always ready with a charming smile and a casual conversation starter.

4. He even went as far as anonymously sending you a gifts or helpful tips related to your work, trying to show his support and understanding of your profession.

But you didn't give any reaction; you consistently ignored him.

Bucky didn't mind your game of "playing hard to get." He was confident that in the end, you couldn't resist him.

However, his confidence wavered when you finally spoke to him, your words cutting through the air like icy daggers. "In 2022, Bobby Smith died because of a gunshot. He was my fiancé."

Bucky's face drained of color, his body going rigid with shock. The revelation hit him like a sledgehammer, the weight of guilt crashing down upon him. His mind raced as he realized the implication: Bobby Smith's death was because of him.

After the revelation, would Bucky give up his pursuit, or would he persist despite the overwhelming guilt?

[ktficworld]

Behind The Red Curtains

Pairing: soft dark! Steve Rogers x actress! reader

Summary: You come to know that your success might not be solely because of your talent.

Warnings: 18+, dub-con, forced relationship, bondage, size kink, degradation + praise kink, choking, oral(f receiving ), unprotected sex( it's fiction, your life's not), dirty talk, explicit language, explicit sexual content.

(Let me know if I forgot something)

Prompt: Oral sex, overstimulation, praise, Mob au, Blackmail + Cum play + “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.”

A/N: So, this is my entry for the cum together extravaganza hosted by @labella420 and @stargazingfangirl18

I wanted to write this for a long time after the provocation by @biteofcherry 👀. I hope you all enjoy and this is my first time writing smut so, be gentle.

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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“Johnny Storm was seen with the new sensation in the modelling industry yesterday night. Rumor has it-”

You pressed the switch-off button with more force than needed as the squeaky voice of the anchor finally died down. Throwing the remote across the bed, you groaned in agitation.

You were dating Johnny Storm. Everything was going well, the meeting was story worthy, he was handsome, charming and had some good qualities you were looking for. This was the first relationship you got into since entering the film industry. Because you may be a hopeless romantic, but you were also choosy.

You didn’t know what happened in the process that just torpedoed your budding relationship. One day you were walking out of a cafe hand-in-hand and the next day, he was fucking some modelling sensation. Maybe you got lost in translation.

Or maybe he was just a fucking asshole. No matter what happened it showed you his true colors. That or instead of coming to you to talk out his issues, he went around, fucking and ghosted you.

Oh, but that was not the problem. The real problem was that you were shooting a movie with him. A romantic movie, with sex scenes. And you have no idea how you would be able to show any affection or chemistry on the screen without being awkward as fuck. This would be the best test of your acting skills for sure.

“Why do you look like you regret being born?” your friend and manager, Wanda asked as she entered your room.

You glanced at her and rolled your eyes. She was trying to lighten your melancholic mood but, it was of no use. “You know damn well why.”

She sighed. “I know, but you’re a great actress. You could easily pull off a serial killer then a rom-com is nothing for you. Don’t get worked up about it. Just imagine your celebrity crush instead.”

You laughed at that. You worked with people whom the masses considered celebrity and if you had a crush, you’d simply ask them out. So, you’re stuck in that department.

“I appreciate your support and I’ll get over this. Just give me some time. Is that why you came here?”

Wanda shook her head with a smile. “No, actually the PR guy told me to tell you to go to partage restaurant. Someone wants to meet you.”

You frowned. “You know if I started giving time to ‘someones’ then I won’t even be able to breathe. I need the specifics.”

“He didn’t tell me. Said the person didn’t want to be known till you meet them. But he said you need to go or they’ll be pissed and it could pose a problem to your career.”

Some rich asshole again. You pinched your nose in frustration. People really glamorised a celeb’s life but if they knew that you all have to play rich people’s puppets, they wouldn’t be so enthusiastic about it. 

“Fine, I’ll go. What time and day?”

“8 p.m Sunday.”

“Great. Now get lost, I need my beauty sleep.”

Your heels clicked on the floor as you stepped inside the restaurant to utter silence. 

The usually bustling restaurant was deserted. There was no violin swimming in the air, mingling with the chatter of the expensive people, the polished tables had no spilled drinks and the fine plates had no leftovers. The lobby had no sight of a reception and all the staff had evaporated out of existence. You were half doubting yourself that maybe you arrived at the wrong time or date. Maybe the restaurant was closed.

But all of them vanished when a prim and proper lady approached you. You had never seen her before but you didn’t care to ask if she was new.

“Good evening, ma’am, you may go to the VIP area upstairs. Sir is waiting for you there.” She said in a professional voice.

“Yeah, sure. But can I ask why the restaurant is empty?”

“He booked the entire restaurant.” She said like it was the most normal thing in the world. It was not like this place costed more than the top-paying actors in the Hollywood.

You thanked the woman with a polite smile you went upstairs to get to the VIP section.

The he made you shudder from inside. Another sleazy old man who thought that you would open your legs for him just because he was rich was awaiting you and judging by the stunt he pulled. You’d have to be more tactful.

Reaching the shiny golden doors with a lion emblem, separating the demi-gods from the gods, you knocked on the door of the VIP room.

“Come in.” A thick and deep voice called out, making you frown. How come an old man has such a great voice?

Oh, but how wrong you were. Because, as soon as you opened the door, in front of you, sat a man who was far from aged. He was pure muscles. His rings sparkled in the chandelier lights. Draped in the finest black suit with his blonde hair combed back, sat none other than Steve Rogers, the mafia lord of New York. The one who you have been trying to avoid your entire career. Who posed as a successful businessman but everyone was aware of how he earned his dollars. Just, they were too afraid to acknowledge it.

You couldn’t move an inch, frozen from fear and surprise. You had only met him once, during the premiere of your debut film and people had acted like he wasn’t someone who could wipe them off from the face of the earth without even blinking an eye. That night, his eyes were glued to you like Hades's gaze on Persephone. So intense and consuming that you never wanted to see him again.

And now, here you were.

“Sit down, darling.” He husked out, the sound of alcohol filling his glass reverberating through the walls.

Breaking out of your trance with a gulp. You pulled out the chair and sat down across from him while your heart was in your throat. “Good evening, Mr. Rogers. What brings me the pleasure of your company.’ You managed to get out without your voice cracking.

He smirked and leaned back on his chair. “It’s your beauty, your talent and your creativity that brings you here, sweetheart. I’m a big fan of art and beautiful things, you are both of them.”

“Thank you…” You drawl out, expecting him to continue.

“I liked you the moment I saw you. In your pink dress, you looked so innocent, so shy. Overwhelmed by the media attention. I knew you would do something big so I gave you the freedom to shine and shine you did. However, it looks like your freedom has got to your head.” The last sentence was said with a lower voice and an ominous smile.

Your hands became sweaty as they clamped down on the armrest. “I’m not getting what you are trying to say.” You whispered out. 

His chuckle only made your heartbeat faster as he leaned forward and his gaze bore into your soul. “Let me rephrase, I claimed you the moment I saw you. But I knew you had potential so I let you go but your little dance with Johnny Storm made me realise it was time you became mine.”

“What-what did you do?” You choked out but you weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer.

You yelped as he yanked your chair closer towards him till your knees were touching. Your chest moved rapidly as he leaned closer, his hands covering yours on the armrest.

“Awww, don’t play stupid, honey. Johnny, he’s a himbo and you are mine,” He said as his left hand moved to caress your cheek as you flinched away from his touch. “So, I pulled some strings, fed some mouths with dollars and your cute little on-set romance came to an end.” Your eyes widened in horror as he was the one that ended your relationship with Johnny. 

He gripped your face in his big hand and turned your head so that his eyes burned through yours. “Trust me, honey, I was generous with him. I could have him disappear and no one would have given a shit.”

“No.” You whispered, wrenching his hands away. You suddenly stood up from your chair, effectively surprising him.

“No?”

“That is not happening. I don’t want to be with you, I’m sorry.”  You stumbled back to the door but before you could touch the doorknob, you were whirled around and pushed against it.

“When did I tell you, you could say no?” Steve growled his hand wrapping around your throat. “If you think you can reject me then you are sorely mistaken, darling. Don’t forget that the production house you work with the most is mine.” 

You gasped. How could it be his? It was of Tony Stark, you scorched the earth and back and found no such connection. 

Steve noticed your reaction and tsked.“You didn’t know? Don’t worry, you are not stupid sweetheart. The public doesn’t know that Stark is nothing but my pawn.” His other hand snaked around to squeeze your ass through your jeans and you screwed your eyes shut as his touch sent tingles through your body and your breaths became shorter.

He tugged you closer to him with your neck, his breath fanning over your skin. “Now, do you still want to be stubborn?”

Now, you were no dumbo. If Steve can jeopardize your relations with his production then he can also ruin your entire career. Mob involvement in the film industry is an unsaid rule. However, you didn’t know their claws were so deep and sharp.

“And what if I leave? Leave this industry?” What could be more precious than your pride?

He gave you a lopsided grin. “Then you’ll just be the wife of Steve Rogers who was an actress. Remember princess, I’ll never leave you alone. If I held onto you for three years what makes you think I’ll not find you and drag you to my hell?” 

Tears threatened your waterline as you murmured. “You are really forcing me?” What a stupid question to be asking a mobster.

He let out a throaty chuckle and moved his hand from your neck to his pant pocket however he was still invading your private space as his lips were inches away from your lips. “I’m giving you options: either come willingly or I’ll force you. Your choice, darling.” 

He fished out a silver card from his pocket, tracing the sharp and cold edges of it on your face, meandering down your neck and stopping only when it reached the valley of your breast. You gasped harshly when he slid the card inside your bra, the chilled hard paper resting against your warm skin.

“My number, call me when you make a decision. You have one week.”  He whispered against your lips before sealing the unspoken vow with a kiss.

With that he slipped away from your body and took his seat again like dark clouds gilding away from the moon before shortly, engulfing it once again. He resumed sipping from his glass like nothing serious happened and said nonchalantly. “You can go now.” 

You ran to your car like you were burned. Which you were, your soul was burning. Burning from the choices you were given. Which was essentially choosing which cage you preferred better, golden or grey.

“Did you like the dinner?” Steve asked in his deep voice as he sat across from you at the dining table.

Blinking your eyes away from the full moon that shone outside the dining room window, you glanced at Steve and nodded. “Yes, I liked it.” 

You did come to him willingly in the end, after all, what choice did you have? The moment you admitted your defeat and called Steve flashed in front of your eyes. His smug and triumphant words ringing in your ears.

“Nice choice, princess.”

“You seem to like the moon a lot,” Steve observed as his piercing gaze never left you, noting your every move and reaction.

You looked down at your hands, clasped in front of you. His presence still sent chills of fear down your spine. His imposing figure and intense gaze made your heart race. Not to mention the way his eyes sparkled with desire and lust whenever they laid upon you.

“Yes, the night is beautiful.” You replied softly.

“Do you want to go upstairs? In the balcony for a better view? I also have a very pretty garden.” Steve offered and you refrained from frowning. 

From the moment you accepted his advances, Steve has been acting like the perfect lover. Sending flowers, expensive gifts, wanting to have nice and deep conversations and supporting you in your work. But still, you couldn’t decipher if he was actually being nice or plain manipulative.

However, you had grown tired, sitting and chatting in the room, the walls suffocating you. “I would like that.”

Steve grinned and stood up from his chair, taking a few long strides he reached you and offered you his hand. “Let’s go.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, slipping your hand in his, you got up. You sucked a sharp breath when his hand tightened around your smaller one and his eyes grew darker. You ignored the building tension as he led you upstairs, to the balcony.

His mansion was spectacular, painted beige with marble murals. It resembled old French castles with intricate paintings from Greek mythology on walls to railing carved with various plant and flower motifs.

When he said he enjoyed beauty, he wasn’t bluffing.

Stepping on the top floor, there was a lounge area with a fireplace on the right and a couch on the left. In front was the glass door leading to the balcony. Steve opened the door and you had to hold back your gasp as the view was absolutely breathtaking. 

It had the same marble railing as before and also had a sitting space for two people with two chairs and one glass table, perfect for a cosy morning or evening. The balcony ran along the entire top floor, connected with all the rooms.

However, the main highlight was the enormous garden that stood before your eyes. Tall trees were perched vertically of all types, some bearing fruits, some flowers and some none. Speaking of flowers, bright, colourful flowers adorned the garden like jewels. Rose, jasmine, sunflower, etc scattered all over with moonlight pouring on them.

It was straight out of a princess movie and you could spend your entire life wandering inside it, reading books under the tree shade.

“It’s gorgeous.” You whispered to Steve as you stepped forward, leaning on the railing.

“I know, my mother made it. She wanted me to keep the garden big and flourishing. So, I put everything I could to keep it perfect.” Steve revealed and moved behind you, his body pressing against yours.

You were so engrossed in gazing at the garden that you missed his hand coming to cover yours and he laid a soft kiss on your cheek.

“What are you doing?” You questioned as you tried to step away from his grip but he had you trapped.

“Enjoying my view,” He said as he gripped your hips and pressed them against him, his semi-hard cock pressing against your ass. “See what you do to me?”

His lips trailed down, kissing and sucking on your neck. His left hand travelled from your hips to your breast, he squeezed the underside of your tities while grinding his erection against your bottom. Your breathing was getting heavy as he continued to massage your boobs and sucked on your neck, collarbone and shoulder.

You had to refrain from biting your lips. His strong body and demanding moves were making you unwillingly wet. But he forced you into a relationship you didn’t want, you didn’t want this, right?

“I don’t want to do it.” You whispered despite wanting nothing but his hands under your scarlet dress.

“No?” He chuckled. “Let’s check, shall we?” He whispered seductively in your ear.

Your eyes widened as you thrashed in his grip but he stopped all your attempts to deny the truth with a hand around your neck and a squeeze that made you go still. His other hand glided under your dress and found your panties damp.

“Your pussy proved you wrong, princess.” He said with a smug laugh. He sucked at your pulse point as his fingers moved your lace panties aside and caressed your folds. The suddenness made you let out a choked moan as your hold tightened on the railing.

His words embarrassed you but you couldn’t deny that his touch was making your body betray you. He played your body like an instrument.

His fingers ran along your petals, spreading your arousal and brushing your clit, his index finger teasing your entrance when he abruptly stopped.

You blinked, gasping and panting. You were about to glance at him in confusion when he bent you over, your head resting against the marble railing as he went down on his knees, bunching up your dress around your waist. He ripped off your panties, the sound heating your cheeks with humiliation.

“You deserve to be punished.” He said through gritted teeth as he slapped your clit, making you jerk at the delicious sting as he spread your legs wider for him so your pussy was on full display. Wet and ready.

“Spank your ass till it’s burning for going out with that pathetic excuse of a man Johnny or have Bucky watch you as I fuck you senseless. He’s also a fan after all." He spread your labia and sucked on your clit, making you moan out loud as your stomach flipped.

“But I can’t, because this pussy is too tempting of a distraction.” He lamented as his lips went down to your pussy and his tongue teased your cunt with slow yet precise strokes.

Your left hand moved to his hair and tugged on the blonde locks as his administration made your clit pulsate with need. You couldn’t decipher whether you wanted him to stop or continue.

He tutted on you pulling his hair. You whimpered at the loss of his mouth on your pussy when the clicking of his belt echoed in the empty space. He yanked both your hands behind your back and secured them in place with his belt, the grip firm but not harsh. 

“No.Touching.” He growled in your ear as his words were accentuated by a slap on each of your buttcheeks, making you whimper in pain and pleasure as you let your forehead rest against the cool marble and he knelt again.

He took your clit in his mouth again but with more ferocity as your pussy clenched around nothing, “Oh my god, Steve yes!” You mewled.

“Captain or I won’t let you cum.” He commanded as his fingers joined in and drew slow and teasing circles around your cunt.

“Captain, please.” You pleaded as your orgasm started to build up in your stomach.

“Good girl, that’s my good girl.” He finally eased his index finger inside of you, his thick and long finger filling your pussy and you were afraid as to how you were going to take his cock as his finger alone stretched your vagina.

He pumped his finger in and out of you all the while kissing and sucking your clit. When you bucked into his finger he added another one, exploring your velvety walls to find your spot that would make you sing. He curled his fingers when you dripped around his fingers and mouth.

“Mhmm, captain. Feels so good.” You cried out as your climax was approaching you faster, your skin glistening with sweat under the pale moonlight. It was so embarrassing, being this crying and moaning mess he had turned you into. His hands kneading your thighs and ass.

“Are you going to cum, princess?” Steve asked in a husky voice as he kept up his pace, replacing his mouth with his thumb to grow circles around the bundle of nerves,

Your skin was on ablaze, the coil tightening in your belly as you were tethering on the of falling apart. “Yes, Captain. Please let me cum.” You requested, spellbound. He didn’t need to ask you to beg, you were already sliding into your subspace. His finger found your g spot as he twisted his fingers, making you whimper as your breath shuddered.

He snickered, sending vibrations through your body. “I didn’t know you were so obedient, good to know.”His hand came down on your clit and it was the final straw that threw you over the edge. 

You came with a loud moan as the blinding pleasure brought tears to your eyes and you gushed around his lips and fingers, coating his chin. He lapped all your juice, his pace not halting as he drank your nectar greedily.

Your body was quivering from the force of your orgasm, your heart racing as you tried to collect yourself.

Steve got up on his feet and you almost collapsed when he wrapped a sturdy hand around your shaking body, pressing you against his chest. He jutted your chin up and grinned down at you. “Aw, you already look so fucked out darling but it’s just the beginning, we have the whole night.” He smashed his lips with yours, swallowing your tired whimpers and moans.

After devouring your mouth and leaving you breathless. He picked you up and started walking to his left. You were too dizzy to notice your surroundings till you were hitting silk bed sheet and plush mattress. You glanced at Steve through your hazy vision as he stood at the end of the bed.

He smirked down at you. “How about you return the favour, sweetheart? Strip.” He ordered and it was enough to clear your mind of any hangover.

Your hand snaked to your back and you slid down the zipper and pulled off your dress, your breast clad in red lace coming into view as you completely removed the dress and discarded it on the floor.

You then unclasped your bra, trepidation and anticipation mingling together as your boobs spilled out. Now, you were completely naked, your panties already torn and tossed away.

“On your hands and knees.” He commanded as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt, his abs and chest made your mouth water and you wanted to grab and touch him but shook away the thoughts.

You got on your hands and knees, clothes rustling till the bed dipped behind you. Steve ran his hand up your spine, sneaking underneath to grop your breast. You mewled as his thumb tweaked your pebbled nipples, twisting and flickering the buds till you were writhing under him.

His other hand smacked your ass, causing you to whimper. “Spread your legs more, I want to see that pussy.”

You spread your legs some more, displaying your glistening cunt to Steve’s hungry gaze. “You have such a pretty pussy.” He said as he played with you enough that you were whining before he rubbed the tip of his cock over your cunt, spreading your arousal and his pre cum.

You shuddered, you had an inclining that he was big but how much? That you didn’t know since you couldn’t see his dick from your position.

He slapped the head of his cock on your pussy and you visibly shuddered. He did it a few more times before you were dripping for him and was on the verge of sobbing in frustration. 

“Such a shame that it is about to get ruined by my big cock.” He declared and pushed the tip inside you. You moaned as you awaited your eventual mounting.

You clutched the silky sheets as he slowly bottomed out, your walls spasmed as they tried to accommodate his length. You were so full already and he was gracious enough to give you time to adjust. All the while he explored your body, kissing your spine, kneading and spanking your thighs, ass and breasts. His touch was electrifying and in no time, you were whimpering for him to move.

“Ah, someone is getting impatient.” Steve mocked but began moving out of your hot channel. He was slow and deliberate, his girth dragged through your walls and your pussy fluttered.

He hissed. “Don’t do that darling if you want to walk the next day.” He pulled out all the way, only the tip remained inside. Pushing your head further into the pillow as he slammed inside your cunt in one stroke, taking your breath away.

“Look at your pussy, pulling me in and clenching around me,” He grunted as his hold on your hips tightened. He looked where you two were connected and sighed in awe. “I didn’t know you were such a slut, you look so innocent. But look at you now, dripping around a man’s dick you barely know,” He pulled out again and thrusted back in with the same power. The slow yet rough pace he set made you cry out in pleasure as your climax started to stir in your lower belly again. “But I like how cockdrunk you are that you just don’t give a shit anymore.” He groaned and pulled out.

He changed his angle slightly and when he thrusted back again, he hit your g-spot and you screamed, flames of pleasure intensifying. He tugged you by the hair, pressing you against his toned chest. “Tell me that you are my slut.” He growled in my ear.

“I’m your slut, Captain!” you said breathlessly as his deep thrusts made you gasp.

His hand came to your clit and his thumb started drawing circles, making you tremble in his grip. “Yes, you are my slut. My fuck toy, who would let me do whatever I want and whenever I want with her because I own you now. Repeat what I have said.” He thrusted harder and if it wasn't for his strong grip, you would have fallen down. 

“I'm your fuck toy. You can do whatever you want and whenever you want with me because you own me now.” You cried. 

“Such a good obedient girl- Ahh, taking my cock so well. Now, you are going to ask me to make you cum.” He groaned his thumb sped up. Leaning down, he sucked on your pulse point, surely leaving a hickey, marking you as his.

“Please Captain, let me cum! Let me cum around your big cock.” You squealed out. Tilting your face upwards he kissed, hard and rough, you moaned against his lips as you tasted yourself on him.

“Good girl, now cum for me.” He demanded as fingers and thumb pinched your clit, his cock hitting your sweet spot in quick succession.

You shrieked ‘captain’ as you came around his girth, squirting on his dick. “Good, what a good little slut for your captain.” He moaned in satisfaction as he nibbled at your earlobe, fucking you through your release. 

He let go of you when your shaking died down. Your face fell on the pillow as you tried to catch your breath. Your fucked out mind didn’t register that he didn’t come till you were being flipped on your back. Coming face-to-face with his annoyingly handsome face.

“You didn’t think it was over, did you?” He rasped with a smirk as he plunged into your cunt once again, but this time with more fervour.

You instantly mewled but the overstimulation and coming two times had worn you out, you weren’t used to this. You attempted to scoot away from Steve. “I-I can’t, too much.” 

He pulled you back down on his cock, wrapping your legs around his waist. He restrained your hands over his head with one hand, leaving you unable to escape the pleasure he was giving you. “You can and you will. Get used to it, sweetheart. I’m being gentle right now,” He growled as he moved on top of you.

The pace was rough and fast, the bed rattling with each thrust, your boobs jiggled from the speed. He placed his hand on your lower stomach. “Do you feel me here?” He asked, the belly bulge sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes, I do, Captain.” You managed to choke out as he pounded in your pussy mercilessly.

“Then enjoy it, honey. Enjoy, writhing and moaning underneath me. My cock stretching your tight cunt, because that’s where you belong. Taking my cock like a good little fuck doll.” He husked as the force of his thrust increased with each passing second. The pain and pleasure mixing made tears fall from your eyes, the knot tightening yet again.

Steve leaned over you, kissing your tears, trailing down to your neck and then your boobs, groping and licking the plump area before taking your pebbled nipples into his hot mouth.

“Oh my god!” Your back arched, pleasure zapping through your body like thunder as his hot tongue sucked on your nipples and his hand massaged your other breast. All the while his thick cock rammed into you, his pubic areas brushing your clit.

Your hands jolted to touch him but he had your hands pinned above. You shut your eyes and enjoyed the unyielding pleasure he was bestowing upon you as pressure built up for the third time in your stomach. Your moans and his grunts bounced off the wall, so did the clapping sound of skin slapping against the skin.

Suddenly, his grasp loosened before coolness touched your ring finger. You looked up as he slid a beautiful sapphire ring into your finger, sealing your fate with his forever. You managed out a surprised gasp. He brought your hand down and pinned it to your side, giving you a proper view of the ring as it sparkled under the stark glowing moon.

“Imagine me, sweetheart,” Your breath caught in your throat as his speed grew frantic, his cock hitting the deepest part of your cunt as he chased his own release. “Imagine me when you have to romance on screen with some pitiful A-list actor.” He whispered in your ear, intertwining your hands with his as he kissed your lips. It was softer than the previous ones but no less demanding.

“Imagine me when you have to pretend to fuck someone on set. Because I know,” He whispered against your lips before lowering his hand to your clit and he drew fast circles on the bundle of nerves to help you fall apart. 

Steve cursed under his breath and thrusted faster when your walls clenched his dick. “Because I know that I have ruined you for any other man. Ruined this pussy for anyone except me. So, imagine me when you kiss a man and realize that he’ll never make you feel this good.” You nodded along his words as tears streamed down your cheeks, smearing your eyeliner and mascara but he paid no heed to it. Rather, enjoying your fucked out state.

The fullness of his dick inside your pussy and the overwhelming stimulation finally tipped you over the edge as you came the hardest and it hit you like a tsunami.

After some more brutal thrust, he came inside of you with a loud groan. His hot cum spilling inside your abused cunt as it milked him dry. He pumped into you a few more times, giving you every last drop of his seed and staying inside your warm channels till his cock softened.

He put his forehead against yours as he finally pulled out and you almost whined at the loss of dick but restrained yourself as his cum leaked out of your hole.

Only heavy breaths echoed in the spacious room as both of you caught your breath. You were beyond regaining your previous strength as you couldn’t even move a muscle. However, Steve recovered shortly afterwards as he kissed your forehead and whispered smugly. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.” 

You didn’t answer because he was right, you enjoyed every bit of it even if you didn’t want to. Before you could drown yourself in self-pity. Steve picked you up and took you to his bathroom to soak you in a nice, warm bath…

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Ohhhh what about giving Mafia!Andy Barber head under the dinner table at a gathering and after he thanks you by letting you ride him? Maybe something like that

a/n: omg this fantasy is too good, i think i might pass out

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

Andy’s fingers had been tangled in your hair the entire evening. 

It had been so casual during the party when he’d told you to slip off your seat beside him and crawl under the table. The words he shared with the other gangsters barely wavered as he, for the remainder of the meal, clutched onto your head and bopped it to the rhythm of his heart’s content, letting you drool and gag on his cock as he and the other guests got to enjoy the finest cuisine money could buy. 

Though when the dessert plates were at last cleared and it was time for the men to move into the other room for cigars and brandy, he simply smirked down at your kneeling form, slotted between his thighs, and before he got up from his seat, his thumb caressed the saliva on your cheek before he let his desire rule the night.

The companions in attendance usually weren’t allowed to join the gruff criminals as they shut the doors to that room, but if the great Andy Barber wanted to drag you with him and include you in the boys’ club, then no one in their right mind would dare to tell him no. 

If he wasn’t done with you at dinner, well then you’d simply have to evolve into the evening’s entertainment. Bouncing in the mobster’s lap as he sat in a leather tufted armchair, the display was fogged up by the clouds of smoke that the surrounding gangster puffed into the air as they shifted in their seats, as per Andy’s brash encouragement, to catch a better glace of how your pretty pussy stretched for all of them to see. 

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[bigtreefest]

You Catch More Bees With Honey Masterlist

A Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader Series

Part of the Outta Nowhere AU

Main Masterlist

Series Summary: Bucky doesn’t always have to personally negotiate his business dealings, but what happens when one of them insists they’ll only deal with him? He heads out to the country to get it sorted, of course.

1. Digging For Gold

2. Ouch, That Stings

3. Honey Trap

4. Under Pressure

5. From the Ground Up

6. San Antonio Stroll

7. Have a Cow

8. Golden Hour

8b. Last Night

9. Looking Over Fences

10. When a Friend Asks for Help

11. Barn Burner

12. Tippin’ Tractors, Takin’ Names

13. You Look Like…

14. Midnight Mess Around

15. Feel Like This

16. More Than Me

Drabbles & Extras

Hop to It (Easter at the farm)

Shared Things (ask answer)

Honeybee vs Decks Character Distinctions

How the Outta Nowhere AU Chapters line up

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You’re tired. Despite your blips into the void, you’re less than rested. You sit back from the table and leave the pencil in the crease of the ledger. You stretch your fingers and yawn. You let your eyes closer and your head wobbles. 

“Sleepy?” Rogers intones. 

You lurch in the chair and glance at him. You don’t remember him returning. He went off to ‘chat with Thor’ but you must’ve been too swept up in the numbers to notice. You nod and fix your posture. 

“A little,” you confess. 

“It’s late,” he stretches his arms as he speaks then rolls his shoulders. “Should probably tuck in soon. You got a lot of work tomorrow. Me too.” 

“Mm, right,” you hum flatly. 

You’re trapped in the tenuous stalemate. Since his confrontation, you’ve been reticent. That’s safest. You still can’t figure out what you did to rile him but you hardly want to do it again. A man like Rogers is not the type you want to goad. If it were up to you, you wouldn’t even be here. Again, that’s just another reminder of his power. You’re here because he says you need to be. 

“I bought you stuff to sleep in,” he goes around the bed and grabs his own bag, flopping it up on the mattress.  

“Oh, thanks, uh,” you slowly close the ledger and stare at the bed.  

Your eyes drift over to the chaise. It’s wide enough for you. It even looks comfy. You get up and approach it, peering into the top of the shopping bags. That looks like pajamas? 

He grunts and draws your attentions again. As he unbuttons his shirt, your eyes widen and your heart spark. Oops! You grab a bag and flee for the bathroom behind him. He doesn’t flinch as you pass by. 

You shut the door and drop the bag. This is going to be so weird. And you thought the hotel room was bad. Him in the bed in just his towel and then you falling out of the shower. It’s a deranged slapstick but you’re the main joke. 

You push open the mouth of the bag and pull out the silk top. The dusty rose fabric is trimmed with black lace. You blink dumbly as you examine the thin straps and fish out the matching bottoms. Okay, are these supposed to be pajamas? 

You search the rest of the bag. It’s much of the same but in various colours. You’re better off sleeping in what you have on. Still, you are entirely unprepared another argument. Just the memory of his chasing you around that room has you jittery. 

You change, reluctantly. How are you supposed to stay warm? You hate being cold. Especially when you’re trying to sleep. You swear, he’s torturing you. For you, he reserved his more sinister practice, you almost envy the man he stomped on the street. At least that was quick. 

You crack open the door and peek out. Rogers lays in bed, one arm bent behind his head, his other hand on his phone as he holds it over his muscled torso. He has no shame as he reclines with his upper half entirely bare. You suppose he has no reason to be embarrassed but you very much do. 

You steel yourself and emerge. You tear your eyes from him and don’t look back. You circle around the bed with one focus in mind. You snatch the pillow from the other side but find it caught on something. Rogers clears your throat and you look up as he stares back. He clings to the corner of the pillow. 

“Whatcha doin’?” He asks coyly. 

You gulp, “oh, I was gonna make up the chaise--” 

“Why?” He prompts. 

“Well, er, I thought--” 

“Bed’s big enough,” he shrugs and yanks, putting the pillow back down. “Unless you think I smell or something.” 

“Oh, no sir, no,” you argue and fold your hands in front of you. The silk brushes your chest and you’re overly aware of how your nipples poke into the cool fabric. “Um...you didn’t happen to grab any sets with pants? My legs are cold.” 

“I dunno. The lady picked it all,” he swipes up his phone again. “Looks like it fits. If you’re cold, get under the blankets.” 

“Right, that’s... smart,” you agree and climb onto the bed. You do just as he says and hide under the blankets. You put your back to him and nestle in. Your body relaxes into the cushy mattress and you yawn again. It’s no big deal. You’re just going to sleep. 

Your head swirls with exhaustion. It doesn’t take much more than a few deep breaths to doze off. You’re grateful for the quick relief. Your body and mind is so addled that the blank void is much preferable. 

You wake to darkness. The kind that blurs like static in your vision. There’s a steady rhythm at your back. Rogers snores lowly between deep breaths. His warmth radiates beneath the blankets and clouds around your legs. 

You peek back at his fuzzy figure. It’s the only time you’ve ever seen him anything less than terrifying, even though you can’t really see him. You move carefully and slide out from under the covers. You tiptoe around to the bathroom and ease the door into the frame. 

You quickly relieve yourself and wash your hands. As you come back out, the snoring continues, assuring you of your successful mission. You climb back into bed and once more roll onto your side. As you pull the blankets up, there’s a dip in the tempo. 

Rogers’ snores fade and catch in his throat. The bed jostles with his movement as he grumbles. You squeak as his arm snakes over you and his heat blazes around your body. He tucks his hand under your waist and nuzzles your hair, puffing hotly into your scalp. 

His arm is like a vice. You can’t dislodge it as you wriggle helplessly. His snores rise again to assure you of oblivion. You clasp onto his wrist but you’re much too weak to fight him. You knew that already but now you feel it completely. 

As you writhe, you let out another high-pitched gasp. What’s that? The bulge flush to your rear has you paralysed as the realisation slowly sinks in. Oh. He’s only human after all, even if to you, he seems immortal. 

You blanch and blink into the dark. The silk isn’t much of a barrier and his own pajama bottoms don’t offer much else. What do you do? You can’t let him wake up like this? You can’t let him know that you felt him. 

Yet if you wake him up by wrench him off of you, that would give it all away. Well, you guess this is your life now. You’re stuck. Trapped with this enigmatic man and his unyielding demands. Even in his sleep, he’s managed to impose his will on you.