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sarahowritesostucky · 5 months

Text

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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delicatebarness · 2 months

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but daddy i love him | prologue

Summary: As the daughter of a notorious mob boss, you must balance loyalty, love, and the ever-present danger of concealing a forbidden romance with Bucky Barnes, your oldest brother's closest friend.

Warnings: This story contains themes of secrecy, forbidden romance, and familiar conflict. High School/Mob AU. - Also, a lot of what happens in this series will be done while the characters are underage, for example, alcohol and drug consumption.

Word Count: 1110

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A/N: Hello again. So, this is the start of the rewrite of ITHK and Safe & Sound, I have tried to blend the stories together to create a new one. I have added the tag lists from the series below, but please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from this series. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

In the heart of New York City. beneath the towering skyscrapers and blinding lights, lay a world where shadows concealed secrets and power whispered through the alleys. As the youngest and only daughter of a city's most notorious mob boss, you’ve learned to live with the constant hum of dangers that surrounded your family’s empire.

Attending Brooklyn Prep, a private high school, you maintain the facade of the diligent student, blending in with the privileged children of New York’s elite. And, beneath your polished exterior lay a hidden truth– your forbidden relationship with Bucky Barnes, your older brother Steve’s best friend.

The epitome of loyalty and righteousness, Steve saw Bucky as another brother figure in your life. Dismissing any inkling of suspicion, he firmly believed that Bucky saw you as nothing more than a sister. “Bucky’s just looking out for her,” Stever would often reassure your twin brother, Peter, whenever his suspicions surfaced. Yet, you knew the truth. There was a passion that simmered beneath Bucky’s protective facade, your stolen glances and hidden smiles told a different story.

One afternoon, as the school bell rang, you made your way toward an empty classroom at the end of the hall. The door opened with a creak, and before you could say a word, Bucky pulled you inside. His hand gripped your waist as his lips crashed onto yours. Your knees felt weak as the intensity of his kiss made you melt into his embrace, forgetting for a moment the world outside.

“I’ve missed you, Sunshine,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with longing. His hands roamed up your back, pulling you closer.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back between kisses, your fingers tangling in his hair.

His kisses became more urgent, his breath hot against your skin. “We need to be more careful,” he muttered, breaking away for a moment, resting his forehead against yours. “Peter’s been watching us again. He almost caught me slipping a note into your locker yesterday.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I know. He’s suspicious, but Steve… Steve keeps dismissing him.”

Bucky sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “We can’t let our guard down. If Peter finds out… if your father finds out…”

Placing a finger on his lips, you silenced him. “We’ll be careful, we have to be.”

Just as your lips met again, the sound of footsteps in the hallway made you both freeze. Pulling away reluctantly, you straightened your clothing and tried to calm your racing heart. “I’ll see you tonight,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of longing and resolve.

You found solace in the garden of your family’s estate that afternoon. The vibrant blooms and gentle rustle of leaves provide a calm sanctuary for your mind. Sat on a stone bench, under an old oak tree, you lost yourself in a book. The pages offered a temporary escape from the tension of your double life.

However, the tranquility was short-lived as the sound of abrupt footsteps approached. Glancing up, you see Peter emerging from the shadows– a chill cast over the serene garden.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, his voice dripping with contempt as he approached. His gaze was cold and calculating.

“Reading,” you replied, keeping your voice steady as you gestured to the book in your hands.

Peter scoffed. “Of course,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the garden. “I wonder if Bucky would be interested in your taste for quiet corners. Or, maybe… he’s already familiar with them.”

Your grip on your book tightens, your knuckles turning white as his words cut deep. “Leave me alone, Pete.”

A cruel smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes gleaming with malice. “Make me, Princess,” he taunts, seizing the book out of your hands. Frustration coursed through your veins as his actions were fueled by his desire to provoke and intimidate.

“Give it back,” you demanded, rising to your feet.

Peter laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that echoed through the garden. “What’s the matter, little sister?” his taunts continued, flipping through the pages. “Can’t handle a little fun?”

The urge to lash out nearly overwhelmed you as your fists clenched. Thankfully, the years of conditioning yourself to keep your emotions in check and not steep to his level held you back. “Just give it back,” you repeated with a sigh.

His grin widened, thriving on your discomfort. “Or what?” he challenges. “What are you going to do about it?”

Before you could respond, a voice cuts through the tension, sending both you and Peter snapping your heads around in surprise.

“What’s going on here?” Steve stood at the edge of the garden. An expression mixed with concern and disapproval as his gaze flickered between you and Peter. “Pete, Dad wants a word.”

Peter hesitated for a moment, his eyes narrowing in defiance. But, he ultimately tossed the book aside with a dismissive flick of the wrist, indifference spreading across his features. You let out a shaky breath as Peter disappeared back toward the house. The tension drained from your shoulders as you knelt, reaching for your book.

Waiting for Peter to be out of earshot, you turned to Steve with a furrowed brow. “Did Dad really want to talk to him?”

Solemnly, Steve shook his head. “No, he didn’t. But, if there’s anyone Peter’s scared of, it’s Dad.”

You nodded. Despite being your twin brother, Peter’s demeanor and motivations often baffled you both. “Thank you, Stevie,” you said softly, your eyes filled with gratitude as you met his gaze.

Later that evening, as dusk settled over the estate, you stole away to a secluded spot in the garden. The spot you had discovered years ago was a blind spot in your father’s security system, a place where the cameras couldn’t reach. It had become your sanctuary, a hidden nook where you and Bucky often met secretly.

The air was thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine, adding a touch of ethereal beauty to the clandestine meeting. Bucky took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “I wish we didn’t have to hide like this,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek.

“Me neither,” you whispered back, your heart aching with the weight of secrecy. “But, he’d kill you if he knew.”

Bucky nodded, his jaw tightening. “I’ll find us a way,” he vowed, his voice unwavering. “I won’t let anyone come between us.”

You leaned into him and in the quiet sanctuary of the garden, you and Bucky found a brief respite from the tumultuous currents of your lives.

---

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ktficworld · 5 months

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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…

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #mob steve #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x reader au #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x female reader #mob steve rogers #CT 2024 raffle entry

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bigtreefest · 8 months

Text

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

Shared Things (ask answer)

Honeybee vs Decks Character Distinctions

How the Outta Nowhere AU Chapters line up

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mrs-elsie-barnes · 6 months

Text

Mob Rules - Cockwarming with Bucky (& Steve)

Cockwarming | Bucky Barnes x Reader | Drabble 800w

After a long day you settle down on the sofa with Bucky and Steve

Warnings: Sexual content & language. D/s themes, cockwarming, oral (m receiving), dirty talk.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Mob Rules | Poly Fics |Bucky | Steve

The house was quiet again, no raucous laughter or bantering, no loud banging as the rest of the Cap and Sarge's crew came and went. No phone calls or meetings. Just peaceful, blissful, silence.

The sofa under you was plush and soft, the TV a low hum in the background of your thoughts. You'd sprawled out around an hour ago, changing out of the cute pink outfit Steve had chosen and into one of the many silk robes that lined your closet.

“There you are, Bambi.” Cap’s voice was rough, he'd been berating the lower ranks of the crew earlier for some dispute about territory and he looked wrung out by the whole thing. “Been looking for you.”

“Sorry-” you began to scramble back up from your prone position but he motioned for you to lie back down, picking up your feet and placing them in his lap.

“No, baby, you lay down, it's been a lot, hasn't it, meeting everyone.”

You nodded, looking up at him with wide eyes. He’d taken off his black suit jacket and rolled his sleeves up. His tie was undone, hanging around his undone collar, and his dirty blonde hair was ruffled, pushed back from his forehead. He looked wonderful, his large hands encompassing your feet and squeezing gently, rubbing the sore arches.

“You've been such a good girl, let me take care of you.” Closing your eyes you let Steve rub his calloused hands over your feet and up your thighs, massaging the tight muscle and brushing dangerously close to the hem of your panties.

“So this is where you're hiding,” Bucky chided from the open doorway. Behind in the evening light spilled through the tall windows, casting him into shadow.

You tried to sit again, but Steve patted the top of your thigh, “stay.”

Bucky gave you an indulgent smile and kissed your forehead before sitting down as well, lifting your shoulders and laying your head on his thigh.

“You did so well today, baby, so good for us.” He praised, resting his arm over your shoulder and stroking his thumb down your cheek.

“Thank you, Sarge.” You felt the hard line of his cock twitch under his black suit trousers, the zipper pressing up briefly.

“Such a sweet girl,” Steve agreed, his hands working up your thighs again, his thumbs brushing the gusset of your lacey panties.

“Going sweet on us now aren’t you?” Bucky slid his thumb over your lips and into your waiting mouth.

His thumb was warm and heavy, pressing down gently on your tongue as you laved at his fingerprint. Bucky’s hand was so large that he could cradle your face, covering your ear and protecting you from the slightest noise. It was so safe, under his care, that you closed your eyes and began to suck absentmindedly, humming gently and leaning into his touch.

“There you go, Bambi - so sweet - happy?” He asked, his voice low and rumbling, you could feel each word running through your body from the plain of his chest where the back of your head rested, to the soles of your feet in Steve’s hands. “Need you to do something for me now.”

You nuzzled deeper into his lap, his cock now straining against the zip of his trousers, and your squeezed your thighs together around Steve’s hand, contemplating his next request. “Anything, Sarge.”

Bucky’s head fell to the back of the sofa with a soft thump and his tattooed left hand came into view. For a moment you pulled back, hoping to lick at the colours and patterned inked into his skin, the twirl of flowers, the patterns, the dates, you wanted to worship him. But he tucked his hand behind your head and tugged down his zipper instead.

“Sit up, sweetheart.” Steve picked you up gently and you watched, rapt, as Bucky’s cock sprang free. He was already rock hard, his head a deep red and you thought of cherry ice lollies, your mouth watering.

Between them, Bucky and Steve lowered you back into his lap, his open fly revealing his toned abdomen and his adonis belt pointing down to his delicious looking dick. Without thinking you licked a bold stripe from the base to the tip, dipping your tongue into his slit and moaning with delight when the salty tang of his precum hit your tongue.

“Fuck, Bambi, how’d we get so lucky with you? Perfect little cockslut, that’s right -” his left hand cupped the back of your head, guiding you further onto his cock, “open that tight little throat and let me keep my cock just - ugh -here.” You settled, mouth full and nose brushing against his abdomen, and whined. The noise vibrated through him and he thrust up slightly, hitting the back of your throat. You gagged, pulling back, but he kept his hand firm guiding you back down. “Shh, settle there, good girl, just open your throat and clear your mind.”

So you did, slowing your breathing and letting his cock sit heavy on your tongue and that safe, kept, feeling washed over you.

#bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes/you #bucky barnes x you #Mafia AU #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #mafia bucky x you #steve rogers fanfiction #Mob Rules

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lokiswifeduh · 4 months

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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)

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sunflowerdarlingx · 2 years

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His Girl - Chapter Four (18+)

Hello lovelies,

This chapter is a little long but it's mainly a filler chapter. Next chapter will have a lot more interactions with Steve and hopefully a bit of drama.

Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading so far and for all the comments I have been getting. I really appreciate it and I also appreciate the patience people have had since I posted the last chapter.

Mob!Steve Rogers x Female Reader (she/her pronouns).

Warnings: negative self-talk,

MINORS DNI

Introduction / Part One / Part Two / Part Three

What the fuck just happened?

The question repeated itself again and again in her head while she stood frozen outside of the elevator doors. She was surrounded by black SUV’s and luxury sports cars but only one car in the garage had the engine running.

Peter Parker sat in the drivers seat of a back Audi, patiently waiting for Y/n to get into the car. He was dressed in a black hoodie and sweats and his brow arched in the mirror when he saw her stand still at the metal doors. The confusion set in when he saw the deflated look on her features. He couldn’t see the way her eyes glazed over with tears from the rejection she just became subject too.

He had to admit, he was confused when Steve got in touch and asked him to take y/n home. Steve had never mentioned anyone called y/n and he most definitely never mixed women in with his work.

Peter moved his hand to press the little button on the door that rolled down the window. “Excuse me…Miss? Are…are you going to get in the car?”

Rude. Why was she blanking him?

“Miss?” he tried again but still got no response. Peter knew Steve would be coming downstairs to head to Clint's shop and he was under strict instructions to get her home quickly and to make his own way over to the shop. It was all hands on deck there.

When he still didn’t get a response, Peter hopped out of the car, “Miss, C’mon, we gotta get going”. The sound of the car door closing caught Y/n’s attention. “Right, sorry”.

It was like something inside of her clicked, the deflated look on her face being replaced by a rock hard stare as her jaw set. Y/n slid into the backseat and put her seatbelt on. Peter got back into the driver's seat and gave her a kind smile in the mirror.

“So, where to?”

Peter noticed the uncomfortable look that crossed her face when she gave him her address. He could sense her hesitance when she got in the car and he was worried that he was making her uncomfortable - he knew Steve would not like that.

He decided to turn around in his seat and extend a hand to her to introduce himself, “I’m Peter”. His signature boyish smile took over his features and his doe eyes peered into hers.

Y/n carefully took his hand, her other hand tugging Steve’s hoodie down her legs as she introduced herself. Peter could tell she didn’t want to talk, it was late after all, so he turned around and started driving.

Her gaze shifted over to the window and a million thoughts began to swarm her head. How could she be so stupid? Why did she let her instincts get clouded by his charm and good looks? Why did she think someone like him could like her? Why would anyone like her?

Tears stung her eyes as the negative thoughts filled her mind. She could feel the darkness beginning to cloud her self worth and she didn’t want to enter that dark place again after spending the last few weeks trying to crawl out of it.

The ride seemed to last forever but she was home in 25 minutes.

25 long minutes of belittling herself and reducing herself to feeling worthless.

Peter waited until she was inside to drive off and once she was inside she found herself letting the tears roam free.

She felt heartbroken, she was confused about Steve’s actions. She didn’t chase him, he seeked her but here she was, exhausted in bed. Tear stained pillows cushioned her head as sleep took over her body.

Some might say it was an overreaction. However, the girl had just recovered from one brake up and the hopeful romantic in her let her guard down way to soon and the feeling of rejection consumed her.

_________

When Wanda and Nat arrived at her apartment the next day, they were greeted by a lump of blankets on the couch and the sound of the shower running.

They both froze at the sound of a broken sob as they reached the top of the stairs. The two women sent each other a worried glance before they ran to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Their hearts broke for the girl in front of them. The steam of the shower consumed the room as Y/n sat there, her knees tucked into her chest as she let out a stream of tears and broken sobs.

“What happened hun?” Wanda immediately opened the door to the shower and sat herself beside her friend. Wanda didn’t care about the water pouring over her, all she cared about was comforting y/n.

The pair met Y/n in college, they all were on separate courses but all happened to be studying in the same area of the library one night. They all found themselves in a fit of giggles when a boy got kicked out because he decided to eat carrot sticks on the quiet floor by the librarian. Neither knew why they found it so funny, but they did and for the rest of the night they found themselves chatting and getting to know each other. They had been inseparable ever since.

Over the years, it became clear that Y/n was the baby of the friend group. The term was only used in a positive way to show how much they cared for her like a younger sister (even though they were similar in age). The girls felt the need to protect her, especially when they learned about all of the shit she put up with growing up.

Her friendship groups had never been stable. They learned of the way she was treated from being used to being humiliated by those who were supposed to care about her.

Nat sat at the door and crossed her legs. “C’mon sweetie, what happened?”.

Soft cries left y/n’s lips as she told the girls about her night with Steve. She told them how perfect it was to begin with, how they spent time chatting before going back to his.

“I promise, I w…wasn’t going to sleep with him” she hiccuped, “he was, he was just too good to be true, maybe i’m too easy? Is that why men don’t want me?” Wanda and Nat both shook their heads.

They would never sex-shame her. There was nothing wrong with having sex with who you want, when you want, as long as it’s consensual on both sides. They both did it plenty so who were they to judge?

“You’re not easy” Wanda turned off the water and Nat gave her a towel before wrapping one around Y/n.

“Yes I am” Y/n started to dry off, her mind going off on a tangent.

“I’m a dumb slut…is that why the guys I want never want me? But he did want me. I..I swear he did. You should have seen the way he looked at me”.

Nat guided her babbling friend to the bedroom and started to take out some clothes for her.

“He looked at me so sweetly, he was romantic and…and he knew just what to say, what to do to make me feel good! He… I thought he liked me b..but he didn't”. Nat pulled a sweater over Y/n’s head and the tears started again. “God, he looked disgusted at me. His eyes were so cold, so harsh. Am I really that repulsive?”

Y/n looked up at both of her friends who shook their heads

“No!”

“Of course not”

Their replies came in unison as Wanda brushed Y/ns hair after changing out of her damp clothes

“You’re the sweetest and prettiest girl in the world” Nat said and placed a kiss on top of her friend's head. “He’s obviously just a cock and you need to stay away from him.”

“I know what we can do to get your mind off him” Wanda chimed in and smirked, “girls day!”

She tried to pull Y/n up but she went limp, “I don’t think i’m up for that Wanda”

“C’mon!” Nat stood up and helped to pull her up into a sitting position. “Why don’t we go get our nails done? And then a massage and then we can go to the little noodle place you love so much?”

They always knew just what to do to make Y/n feel better. Wanda and Nat knew that rejection from those y/n got intimate hurt her a lot more than it would hurt most. It would drag up every single insecurity she felt about her weight, and she created a million reasons about why she was never good enough.

Y/n was a hopeless romantic and put her all into every form of relationship she ever had. It was her weakness.

Y/n had never been more thankful for Nat and Wanda. They were her stability when she was away from her family who lived thousands of miles away. She would be lost without them.

They knew the dark hole of lowness over the next few days would mean she would replay the night over and over in her head, blaming herself in various ways, comparing herself to unrealistic standards and creating a self-hatred like no other.

After the pair came up with a game plan of how to keep y/n distracted over the next few days, they all set off to the nail salon. Nat furiously typing texts to Bucky the whole ride there.

“Tell Steve he’s a prick.”.

_______

Steve had spent all night at Clint’s shop with Bucky and Sam working out their next move against Rumlow. The security cameras caught him and his men entering the shop before they cut out, all damage unrecorded for them to see who to torture the most.

Steve was raging, Bucky was furious and Sam had a headache from working on the numbers all night.

None of them had slept, each of them on and off the phone with different members when they moved around the assets before all attending a meeting at Steve’s home.

Steve drove to his home with Bucky in the passenger seat and Sam in the back. Bucky’s brows furrowed as he looked down at his phone.

“What did you do?” he turned to Steve and glared.

“When?” He asked curiously

“To Y/n, Nat isn’t happy”.

“What does it matter to you?” Steve laughed and turned to drive up the road to the private estate.

“C’mon man, you saw how well me and Nat got on” Bucky ran a hand through his dark locks. “I invited them to the club tomorrow,” Bucky huffed.

“That won't be happening now” Sam laughed as he looked over Bucky's shoulder at the messages from Nat.

Who the fuck does that?

Is he serious? Kicking her out straight after sleeping with her?

What type of a person does that?

He’s a fucking pig.

Sam let out a low whistle at the texts. “I thought you liked Y/n?”

Steve looked at Sam through the mirror.

“Be realistic Sammy Boy, when have I ever liked a girl enough for her to be more than just an easy fuck?”

“So is that all she was?” Bucky asked curiously.

“Of course. Yeah, she’s cute but she was hardly my type. I don’t normally go for girls…” he paused, “her siz..like her”.

You sound like an asshole Steve

“You’re one son of a bitch” Sam sighed and sat back in his seat.

“It’s true though. I don’t plan on settling down and if I were to, it definitely wouldn’t be with her. She was just so eager to get my cock and she should be grateful that she got the chance”.

Bucky just shook his head before texting Nat back.

I can’t control what Steve does. Come to the club tomorrow and I’ll make it up to you? - JBB

Steve focused back on the road, a weird feeling filling his stomach as he thought about the girl he spent half of last night with and the nasty things he just said about her.

She is nothing more than an easy fuck. He told himself that over and over again until they arrived back at the house.

____

After the meeting with his those under his command, Steve gave everyone their orders and sent them on their way.

"Parker" His tone was harsh as he called for the youngest member.

"Yes, sir? Peter quickly walked over to where Steve was standing.

"Did she get home okay?" A sincere look crossed Steve's face when he enquired about Y/n.

"yeah she did. She was awfully quiet though. She looked sad" Peter frowned as he remembered her reactions.

Steve just nodded and walked away.

Fuck, there was that feeling in his stomach again. Guilt.

----

It had been a week since the incident with Steve and Wanda and Nat were surprised at how well Y/n had been holding it together. After the girls day she seemed a lot happier and swore that she wasn’t going to let that man get her down anymore.

Tonight was Bucky’s birthday party and he had invited Nat which meant Y/n and Wanda were invited too.

“C’mon sweetie, it’s gonna be at a big club where you will easily be able to avoid Steve and Wanda will be by your side when I’m not, I promise we won’t leave you on your own”. Nat was trying to convince Y/n to go along to Bucky’s birthday. She knew that a drink and a dance would cheer her up but y/n was reluctant to go in case she ran into Steve.

“C’mon” Wanda nudged her elbow and wiggled her eyebrows at y/n “we both know how much you love cocktails and dancing, especially with me” she sang and y/n rolled her eyes playfully.

“Okay fine”, her two friends cheered and Y/n painted on her best fake smile. She really didn’t want to go but she could see how badly her best friends wanted to and after all that they had done for her over the last week, she owed them.

“Lets get ready”

Taglist: @wintasssoldier @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @kneelforloki @stephv213 @urmomsgirlfriend1

Masterlist

Steve Rogers Masterlist

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simmerandwrite · 6 months

Text

Sink Into Me - 09 - mob!Steve Rogers x plus size!reader

Pairing: mob boss! Steve Rogers x plus size! reader

Summary: You were simply doing a good deed, pulling the handsome stranger out of the way when a car jumped the curb. Little did you know that the life you saved belonged to Steve Rogers, the Army veteran turned art dealer with connections to the Brooklyn crime syndicate.

Steve Rogers, who won’t stop calling you his guardian angel.

Steve Rogers, whose new goal in life just might be repaying his debt to you.

Steve Rogers, who isn’t shy until it comes to his feelings and will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09

Wordcount: 11k

Warnings: angst, allusions to dog fighting (but no mention of any kind of abuse), smut

Notes: here we go!! I have so much to say but I'll summarize it with a big thank you!! to everyone who read, reblogged and followed along for the journey. y'all made this so much more fun! can't wait to hear your thoughts!! and while this is the end of Sink Into Me, this universe may stick around for a while. a few more notes on this at the end ;) thank you thank you thank you! enjoy!!

“Hi,” you said quietly, meeting his eyes in the low light streaming in from his lamp.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, scanning you for any signs of distress.

You shrugged, taking in a deep breath. Then Steve took a step back, waving his arm to invite you in. You released your lungs slowly, nodding and following him inside. Wordlessly, he climbed into the bed and offered the open blanket to you, arms wide.

You just nodded again, crawling under the comforter and finding a spot - your spot - underneath his arms.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you pulled away from him. A strange empty laugh escaped you.

“I can’t believe… an hour ago… I was being held at gunpoint. That’s crazy. Isn’t that crazy?” The whole thing suddenly hit you like a ton of bricks, all of it. The ambush on your way home, the brute force, the cold rain, the gun.

“Sweetheart..” Steve sat up the same way you did.

You shook your head and shuffled to the side of the bed and planted your feet on the floor, sitting there as you caught your breath.

“Hey, hey. Just breathe, okay?” He scrambled off the bed, coming around the kneel in front of you. With one hand, he reached out and placed it on your knee. You dropped yours onto his and squeezed it. “I’m.. baby, I’m so sorry.”

You closed your eyes, taking in a few deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered your name, brushing his thumb against your knee. “I’m sorry for everything. Ever since that day.. On the street, outside the restaurant, just by saving me - you had a target on your back and it’s my fault. I hurt you and put you in danger and it’s my fault.”

The silence washed over you both again.

Steve continued, quieter. “Is there anything I can do or say right now to help you? I know you’re probably scared and I can’t fix that but… your well being, that’s all that matters to me.”

You exhaled and opened your eyes. “I.. I’m hungry.”

Steve blinked. “Uh, okay. Sure. I can order a pizza or we could..” His lips twitched into a brief smile. “How about grilled cheese?”

—

Truthfully, Steve wasn’t always stocked up on the basics but this time he was grateful for what few groceries remained in his fridge. There was a strange silence as you headed to the kitchen. Steve got to work grabbing what he needed for grilled cheese making while you sat at his small dining room table.

Hercules followed you closely, finding a new place to sleep at your feet.

You fiddled with the tag of the tea bag in your cup of chamomile, quiet. The frying pan sizzled.

“Steve?”

Your voice drew his attention away from his task at hand. He turned. “Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the fire? At, uh, your mom’s clinic?”

He stilled then turned back towards the stovetop. He flicked off the element and plated the sandwiches, joining you at the table. He slid a plate across to you.

“I would have, eventually. I didn’t want to scare you,” he finally replied, biting on his lip before he continued. “There was a street gang making a big mess in Brooklyn years ago now. In this type of work, uh, gangs usually coexist. Not always peacefully, of course.”

You took a bite of your sandwich and watched Steve carefully.

“This particular group - called themselves the Red Skulls, led by this absolute menace Johann Schmidt.”

“Oh,” you tipped your head to the side, nodding. “I think I remember hearing about him in the news a few years ago.”

“Probably. They were fucking messy. Schmidt was a piece of work especially. There are a lot of things I do not tolerate in my city and he crossed a very serious line.” Steve rolled his neck. God, maybe he shouldn’t be telling you this. But what did he have to lose now? Honesty was all he had left. “Long story short - we took down one of the Red Skulls trafficking operations. They were kidnapping sex workers.” He took in a sharp breath, eyes closing at the resurfacing memories. “Ma looked after everyone we helped escape and Schmidt retaliated by setting fire to the clinic...”

And Steve had been at some fucking club that night. Volleying between shots of liquor and lines of coke, he nearly missed the most important phone call of his goddamn life.

Steve lost himself in his downward spiral of thoughts as memories of his mother’s recovery flashed through his mind. When he came back to reality, you were looking at him. There was a strange sadness in your eyes.

“That wasn’t your fault, Steve,” you said quietly, tearing off another piece of your sandwich.

He laughed, shaking his head. “The people I care about, the ones I love - you, included now - there is a target on their back, on your back. Forever. I pushed you away and for what? They still..” He dragged both of his hands down his face, head shaking again. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. For.. everything.”

You blinked again, then looked down at your plate. “When you called me and broke up with – that day. What you said to me, it was so careless and..”

“Mean?” Steve finished for you. That’s what you had said. He was mean. No, he had been worse than mean. It was cruel and he had done it on purpose.

“Yeah. Why couldn’t you just be honest? If you care about me so much, how could you say those things?”

He wasn’t sure if he should answer, if he could. But you were looking at him and waiting.

“I don’t know,” he replied quietly, leaning back in his chair and gazing out towards the window. “Because I wasn’t thinking straight. I was emotionally compromised. Natasha barely talked to me for weeks after that night. That was another constant reminder that I really fucked up..”

You sighed. After a few beats, you finally found some words. “What do we do now?”

He looked back at you. “I know I hurt you. I think about it every single fucking day and I can’t undo it, I wish I could undo it.” He took in a hard breath. “I can’t even ask for you to forgive me because it isn’t fair. Not after tonight. Because after all this, how could you ever?” An empty, somber laugh rumbled through him. “I’m just.. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish I could press reset.”

The silence hung between you both again. You finished your sandwich and looked back at Steve.

“I’m tired,” you said softly, stifling a yawn. “Can I.. sleep beside you?”

Steve nodded. “Of course.”

–

You woke up the next morning in Steve’s bed, alone. Somewhere far away, probably in the kitchen, you could hear him on the phone. With a deep sigh, you got up and put yourself back together.

Hercules trotted towards you as you departed from Steve’s room. You followed him back towards the kitchen where Steve had put a modest little breakfast together. He ended his phone call when he saw you, then joined you at the table with a pot of coffee.

Your conversation was minimal. You briefly panicked as you recalled the fake meeting Ward had arranged for you with Hammond, but Steve was quick to tell you he had dealt with it.

Eventually, after your quiet breakfast, you asked to return to your own apartment. Steve insisted on driving you there and walking you to your door. When you got to your building, you noticed an additional security guard posted near the front desk.

You wondered if Steve had something to do with that.

When you got to your door, you opened it and let Hercules in before you turned to Steve.

You didn’t know what to say. You weren’t sure what was supposed to happen now. Truthfully, nothing felt real.

You felt numb.

“Are you gonna be okay here?” Steve asked, tipping his head just slightly to search your face. “If you wanted to stay at a hotel or–”

“No,” you cut him off. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure. I’m just tired. I’m going to take the rest of the day to try and clear my mind.”

“Well, if you need anything at all, call me. Please.”

You hesitated. What were you and Steve now? Friends? Exes? Something more? Something less? You couldn’t figure it out and you were too scared to ask. What did you even want with him?

“Did you unblock my number then?” Your lips twitched into a momentary smile.

Steve didn’t smile back. He was serious and for a second, you watched as he hesitated to reply too. “Of course I did. I never should have..” He closed his eyes. “Call me, anytime. For anything. If something ever feels wrong or someone..” Releasing a long breath, he met your eyes once more. Your name left his lips, quiet, like a whisper. “I can’t figure out what else to say other than that I’m sorry. Again. I just.. I wish I could fix everything and erase what happened last night and.. I’ll be sorry for the rest of my life.”

You squeezed his closest hand. You didn’t know what to say. You raised yourself up slightly onto your toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Then you disappeared into your apartment.

You called your mom that afternoon. And while you didn’t give her any details about what had happened in the last 24 hours of your life, you found it necessary to still call her and tell her how much you loved her. She didn’t ask why you were reaching out or question the way your voice cracked, but you knew she was concerned.

The rest of the day, you slept on and off. Eventually, you ordered in for dinner and forced yourself to sit with the feelings you were wrestling with. What was it? What was going on?

Were you scared? Yes, sure. Even though the incident had been isolated and specific, even though the men responsible were either in custody with law enforcement or being kept directly underneath Steve’s foot, you had reason to feel unsettled.

How could you deal with it though? Enough rational thought brought your heart rate down enough to strategize if anything ever happened again. Pepper spray on keychain, maybe one of those spikey keyrings that doubled as defense weapons.. A self defense class? Maria told you she had taken one before and she found it empowering. Maybe you needed to feel empowered, too.

It was strange though, as you let your mind fester over your feelings, one constant helped keep you steady and walked you back from your edge of anxiety. Steve. When you felt unsafe, Steve had helped you, protected you, saved you.

You didn’t even know what you were to him anymore and yet, he carried on as if you were the most important thing in the world. That helping, protecting, saving you was a responsibility he didn’t take lightly. Steve.. He just.. You just..

Steve. Steve was calling. You shook off your layer of feelings analysis and answered your buzzing phone, sitting up on the couch as you brought it to your ear. It was late.

“Hello?”

“Hey.. thanks for.. I wanted to check in, see how you’re doing. If I’m overstepping, feel free to hang up on me, though.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “You’re not overstepping.” You’re being Steve. “I’m okay, yeah. Calm and mostly relaxed. I’m..”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He paused and you swore you could hear him overthinking what to say next. “Would you tell me the truth though? If you weren’t.. Okay?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “I would.”

“I appreciate that, really. I know you don’t owe me anything but I’m worried.”

You smiled to yourself. “I’m okay.” You knew repeating it may not reassure him, but it helped you. “Oh, actually. I was thinking about something.. Uhm, when they..” You breathed in slowly. “When they took Hercules, they mentioned some weird threat about him fighting. Is that.. Does that mean they.. That there is a dog fighting, uhm, thing or..” You couldn’t even bear to finish what you were thinking.

“Bucky is already investigating, sweetheart. If that exists, we’re going to stop it. I promise you.”

–––

The next evening, Steve called again. To check in and make sure you were still okay. It was funny - because you had a feeling that his phone calls weren’t the only thing Steve had implemented when it came to ensuring your wellbeing. A new lock system had been installed at the front of your building and that same security guard was patrolling when you left for work that morning too.

The next night he called to see how you were. Then the next and the next and the next.

One night, after you told Steve that you were okay, again, you felt an urge to keep him on the line. For some reason, your conversation started to feel like they used to when you first met - friendly, but a hint of something else, something more. But did you want that? Did he?

“While I have you, though. I was wondering if I had to ask Clint for permission if I wanted to paint my apartment - do you know? Or is it like free reign?”

Steve laughed on his side of the phone. “I can get Clint to find you a painter tomorrow, if you want.”

“Oh, no.” You dismissed that idea quickly. “I want to do it myself. I think it would be fun.”

“Well then, since it’s my building, consider this your permission to paint whatever you want. And if you need some extra hands, I’d be happy to help.”

–––

A week later, you answered another late call from Steve.

“It’s late, I can let you go. I’m sure Hercules is already asleep beside the bed waiting for you..”

You smiled to yourself briefly, then sighed. “I’ve been in bed for a while, actually.”

“Oh.” You heard Steve pause. “You didn’t have to take my call.”

“I can’t sleep tonight.”

He paused again. His voice was slower this time, softer. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I just..” It was probably just the late day coffee you had or the tight stress you were holding in your body. “..can’t sleep, I guess.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Maybe you could.. I don’t know, just talk a bit. Tell me a story? From your childhood or high school or something?” You stifled a yawn. “Anything..”

After another beat, Steve’s voice returned in your ear. “Okay. Let’s see. Technically I’m forbidden to share this story but me and Buck had to take a theater class in high school and..”

–––

Steve called you pretty early one night, just as you were coming home from picking up Hercules.

You dropped onto your couch and quickly pulled on the nearest throw blanket the moment you walked into the apartment. When you noticed Steve on the caller ID, you answered right away.

“Hi,” you said through a yawn, laying flat on the cushions. It sounded like Steve sighed in relief on the other end of the phone. “Steve? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Hey sweetheart,” he continued quickly. Damn. When he slipped in the sweetheart pet name, your heart got really confused. “Just nice to hear your voice.”

“Are you okay?” You repeated the question, sitting up from your lounging position.

“I am,” he confirmed. “There’s just something I need to tell you, before you hear about it on the news.”

“Okay..”

“Rumlow - Brock Rumlow.. You remember him?” Before you could answer, Steve laughed. “That’s a stupid question. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten Rumlow.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Steve’s commentary. “No, I haven’t forgotten Brock Rumlow.” Your momentary elation soon disappeared when you considered why Steve might be mentioning Rumlow by name. “What about him?”

“He died today.”

A silence fell between you. “In prison?”

“Yes. Considering how high profile his arrest was, it will likely make the evening news. Maybe it’s already published, I don’t know. I just wanted to warn you before you heard.”

“Okay.” You paused again. “Steve - did you–”

“This had nothing to do with me, surprisingly.” He let out some weird exaggerated laugh again. “I wasn’t his only enemy.” That was Steve choosing what to say and you supposed that was fine. The nitty gritty details really weren’t needed. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

Even though he couldn’t see you, you shrugged, laying back down. “I don’t know, I guess I’m just.. it’s weird to say relieved but..I shouldn’t feel relief over someone’s death, right? Maybe I don’t know how to react.”

“That’s normal, I’d say.” He paused. “I don’t want you to be scared.”

“I do get scared. I think about that night a lot.” You sighed. “But I’ve lived in New York long enough to know that the weird person on the subway probably doesn’t give a shit about me, so I shouldn’t be worried about them.”

“What weird person on the subway?” Steve asked quickly. You could hear him shuffling, maybe going from sitting to standing. “Where did you see–”

“Steve.” You cut him off, with a quiet laugh. “That was hypothetical. I’ve been alright lately, I promise. And remember, I said I would tell you if I wasn’t.”

You heard him let out a long sigh. “Okay.”

“Thank you for calling me and giving me a heads up though,” you continued. “Maybe I’ll mute my news feeds for a few days.”

–––

You [7:01PM]: what do you think? It has taken a few weeks from start to finish but…

You [7:01PM]: (IMG_9116) S Rogers [7:02PM]: that’s a great colour S Rogers [7:03PM]: so. what was the ratio of paint on wall vs paint on you? You [7:03PM]: wow! Rude. You [7:03PM]: 90/10 You [7:04PM]: (IMG_9121) S Rogers [7:06PM]: very cute S Rogers [7:06PM]: even with paint in your hair ;)

–––

Thanksgiving wasn’t your favourite holiday. The food was fine and sure, it was a great excuse for some time off work.

Into adulthood, you were really appreciative of the friendsgiving tradition instead. Especially because your mother was spending the holiday in Jacksonville with her cousin, leaving you mostly without plans for the big day.

Friendsgiving you took seriously. Claire was hosting this year, the weekend before Thanksgiving since she had to work on the holiday, and you had been tasked with dessert making, which was totally up your alley. Maria had offered assistance, so together you were spending your Friday night making the most out of your oven and counter space.

It was going well, although you had started a lot later than planned. It made for a late night but you were in good company with Maria. Having a night in with one of your closest friends wasn’t something you took for granted. Between flour measurements and preparing fruit, you and Maria spent the entire night talking. It was exactly what you needed.

Just before midnight, you were taking the pecan pie out of the oven and Maria was finishing off the dishes. Just as you turned to join her at the sink, a loud banging started at your door. You gasped, probably too loudly for a sane person, and met Maria’s wide confused stare.

Hercules awoke from his bed in your room and trotted towards the door, cautious.

You walked over behind him, holding your breath as another knock echoed.

“Jesus, Barnes - you’re going to scare her to death..”

Barnes? Was that.. Clint’s voice?

Maria followed behind you, pausing as you looked through the peephole.

“Who is knocking on your door at midnight?” Maria asked quietly.

You sighed. Bucky and Clint, apparently. What on earth?

After unlocking the door, you opened it, stopping the bickering men in the middle of their conversation.

“Hello?” You returned their awkward greetings with a small wave. “Can I help you?”

“What is that smell?” Clint’s eyes widened, looking over your shoulder into the apartment. “Are you baking?”

“Can I help you?” You repeated, turning your attention to Bucky directly. “What are you doing here?”

Bucky let out a breath before dragging a hand down his jaw. “So, here’s the thing, doll. My good friend Steve - you know Steve, right? He’s currently spiraling because you haven’t answered your phone or any of his messages all night..” He stood up a bit straighter, looking between you and Maria. “Given the uh..well, he’s just worried about you. Sent us up to check in.. And, since you are clearly very alive and safe, we should..” He paused. “Do I smell snickerdoodles?”

“Oh my god,” you rolled your eyes, inviting the men inside. Maria grabbed the container of fresh cookies and offered them each one.

“If Steve is concerned, why isn’t he at the door?” Maria wondered out loud.

“Boundaries,” Clint answered with a mouth full of cookies.

Bucky thwacked him on the shoulder. “Manners, Barton.” Bucky waited to bite his own cookie, then nodded. “He’s politely keeping his distance.”

You sighed, then looked over at Maria. You had filled your friend in on most of the details about you and Steve and what your recent reconnection looked like. Minus the whole warehouse rooftop situation. You weren’t sure how to share that. But the confusing new feelings and conversations.. They had proved difficult to process alone.

Not to mention that after you and Steve had broken up, your friends had loyally become very anti-Steve. Which you very much appreciated and if the roles were reversed, you’d have done the same for them. But people and relationships were complicated. You weren’t sure how your friends would react to the whole thing.

Maria, for example, had been incredibly cautious and resistant when you filled her in. Not that she didn’t believe in giving people second chances - but instead held true to the fact that all men were just big clueless morons who never did the right thing. You couldn’t fault her for that opinion either. But even if you figured out your own feelings and walls, you’d never be able to really date Steve again if your friends hated him.

“Hmm,” Maria leaned against your counter, removing the dish cloth from her shoulder as she organized her things. “Well, you should walk me out.” She turned to you. “Points to Steve for respecting boundaries and still caring about you, but I’d feel better seeing him grovel up close.”

Clint let out a belly laugh. “Me too”

While Maria and Clint headed out, you took the opportunity to put Hercules’ leash on for one last trip outside before bed. When you stepped into the hallway, Bucky was waiting for you.

“This isn’t my place and I know you’re smart enough,” he started slowly, dropping his hand down to accept a lick from Hercules. “But you know you don’t owe Steve anything right? I told him that the day might come where you don’t answer his phone calls and he has to deal with it on his own. If you close the door, he will keep his distance.”

You scrunched up your face, then shrugged. “Thanks, Bucky. Sounds like you’ve been doing a lot of emotional support for him.”

“You have no idea, doll. It’s part of my role as lifelong best friend, unfortunately. It’s a heavy burden to bear,” Bucky laughed, shrugging too. “He’s got some demons to work through - I guess we all do. Right now with you though? He’s trying real hard not to look like he’s trying.”

You caught up with Clint and Maria at the elevator then headed to the lobby. As you walked out, you spotted Sam leaning against the front desk, chatting with the overnight doorman. And then there was Steve - standing at attention, hands locked behind his back, an equal distance between the front entrance and the elevators. He was dressed in what you considered his normal attire - a crisp navy suit over a plain shirt, no tie. He made effortless look so damn good and you sort of hated it.

When he saw you, he took a few strides forward.

Bucky and Clint joined Sam to the side while Maria lingered behind your shoulder. Hercules tugged on his leash and pulled you towards Steve immediately, clearly overjoyed to see him.

“Hey,” you started as you approached. “I unintentionally ignored your calls, I’m sorry. Just plugged my phone in and forgot about it for a while.”

Steve shook his head quickly. You couldn’t help but see his resolve lighten, as if seeing you caused his shoulders to relax. “You don’t have to apologize. I shouldn’t have dragged everyone here, there was just this..” Whatever Steve was going to say, he seemed to change his mind. He blinked twice then scanned you. “Is that.. flour?” He reached and brushed your shoulder clean.

“We’ve been baking,” you filled in quickly, doing your best to try and read him. “Claire is hosting us for Friendsgiving tomorrow and–”

“You should come!” Maria blurted out from behind you.

With wide eyes, you looked over your shoulder at her. ‘What?’ you mouthed.

Now it was Maria’s turn to shrug. “Claire said her cousin had to bail so there’s an extra seat and..” She took a step forward, nodding at you in reassurance before looking at Steve. “And Luke will be there. So.. you know, you’ll have a friend..”

“I thought Claire invited Matt?” You couldn’t help but ask as your brain caught up to you. “That doesn’t..” You turned back to Steve. “You are more than welcome to come. I know you’re busy and have a lot of–”

“I’d love to,” Steve answered slowly, as if trying to make sure you were even okay with the concept. You reached out and grabbed his nearest hand, with a squeeze. That seemed to be reassurance enough. “What can I bring?”

Steve and his crew left shortly after, not before Steve gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. You forced Maria to join you outside with Hercules before her Uber showed up. The fresh air was something you really needed to cool down.

“So,” You turned to Maria, tipping your head to the side dramatically. “What the hell was that?”

Maria whined out your name, shaking her head. “That guy is in love with you. And trust me, he has a long way to go before I will trust him again, but damn. He looks at you like you’re the most important person on the planet. And I think you love him too.”

“Maria..” You sighed, leaning your head onto her shoulder. “I don’t know how things got so complicated.”

“I just want you to be happy and safe,” she carried on, giving you a small pat on the head. “I get that not everyone is into second chances but.. I don’t know, life is short. If you feel comfortable giving the guy another chance, then we could too. Maybe. Wanda for sure can get on board, Claire might have some reservations.”

“And inviting Steve tomorrow is supposed to be some test?”

“Obviously,” Maria smirked, looking like you had said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “I think it’s only fair for us to really get to know him.”

–––

Claire lived in a beautiful rent controlled apartment in the middle of Harlem. She complained about the location every now and then - it wasn’t the smoothest commute for her to get to work - but at the end of the day, it was functional and roomy.

Which was good, considering you, Claire and Maria had rearranged most of her living room and kitchen area to host a dozen people for Friendsgiving. With a set of borrowed chairs and a folding table from Claire’s downstairs neighbour, you managed to set up the area just in time before everyone started to arrive.

When Maria had spilled in the group chat about inviting Steve to dinner, Claire had been apprehensive but on board, for your sake. And although you had been grateful for your friends’ open mindedness when it came to Steve, you were suddenly nervous about the whole thing.

Mostly because - oh god, what if he had a terrible time? Or what if he got a phone call in the middle of dinner and had to disappear? Was he going to bring a gun with him? Jesus, you hadn’t even thought about that and what if-

Claire dropped a hand on your shoulder. “Girl, you need to chill.” She urged a glass of your preferred wine into your free hand and sent you away from the kitchen area. “He’s just a man, remember.”

You laughed and clinked your glass with hers. Claire was always a good voice of reason, which you appreciated. You turned to her with a smile. “A good reminder, thank you. But speaking of men - why did you invite both your current fling and your ex to this?”

Before Claire could defend her own actions, Maria was answering a knock at the door and guests started to arrive. After a few arrivals, you were the one greeting at the door and you couldn’t hold back your smile when Steve showed up, with Luke at his side.

“Hey,” you said, politely stepping aside to let Luke in while you lingered in the doorway with Steve. “You look nice.” It felt silly to say but you couldn’t help yourself. Steve had traded his typical suit for a pair of dark brown slacks and a knitted red striped polo. His hair was perfectly coiffed and you just wanted to… kiss him. Damnit.

Steve smirked in response, pulling you into a side hug. “You look nice, sweetheart.” Okay, yes, you had picked out one of your favourite dresses. But that was because you wanted to dress up for Friendsgiving, that was the only reason.

After he shed his coat, you noticed Steve was carrying flowers. You didn’t even have a moment to comment on them before he headed towards the kitchen, where he presented the bouquet directly to Claire. She accepted them with a smile, and when he turned away, you caught her eye. She pointed towards the flowers and mouthed ‘Ten points!’

It didn’t surprise you that Steve managed to socialize effectively with everyone he just met, but he truly did such an impressive job holding conversations. Before dinner, he engrossed himself in a chat with Claire’s on-again-off-again ex-boyfriend Matt, the lawyer, and his coworker Foggy. They seemed to have some common interests in certain legal matters that mostly sounded incredibly boring to you.

Steve stayed within your orbit and even when you were in the kitchen finalizing a few things with Claire, you caught him looking your way. Why did that make your heart beat so fast?

You sat at his side for dinner and when everyone was going around sharing what they were thankful for, Steve’s hand found your knee under the table. When you said you were thankful for all the people in your life (and your dog, of course), Steve gave you a delicate squeeze and rubbed his thumb against your thigh.

After dinner, he found you in the kitchen.

“You know, Bucky was bragging all night about your cookies,” Steve saddled up beside you as you leaned against the kitchen counter, while you nibbled at the last piece of apple pie. Steve grabbed a spare fork and joined you. “They ain’t got nothing on this pie.”

You smiled. “Glad you liked it.”

“Apple is my favourite,” Steve replied, licking his lip after cleaning off his fork. “Ma makes a good one but I think she has some competition.”

“That seems like really high praise,” you laughed, leaning against the counter. Steve mirrored you, resting his hand behind your back. It was subtle, maybe even barely noticeable, but he very slowly started to trace circles against the soft fabric of your dress. You were melting. “I’m really glad you came. Hopefully it wasn’t too painful for you.”

He tipped his head to look at you. “We will have to thank Maria for inviting me.”

When Steve politely offered you a ride home, you couldn’t say no. Since you were both heading towards the same area of Brooklyn, it made a lot more sense than taking the subway. As you were leaving, Clarie, Maria and Wanda all gave you the same friendly judgemental look. You accepted that as approval for your actions, departing with a small smile and Steve’s hand at your back.

In typical Steve fashion, he walked you inside and to your apartment door. And then he even happily joined as you took Hercules outside for some air.

Then, well, the night was over. Steve had come to dinner, Steve had brought you home. What else was there to do?

“You can share those cookies with Bucky,” you said with a smile as you stood in the hallway, between Steve and your door. You were sending him home with the rest of the snickerdoodles. “Or keep them all to yourself.”

Steve smiled, raising his hand to brush it through his hair. God, that was sexy. Had that always been sexy? What was going on? Why were you feeling this way?

“Thank you again for letting me join you tonight,” he said slowly, then his feet shuffled forward half a step closer to you. “Hopefully your friends don’t hate me.”

You laughed, sliding your tongue across your lips. You watched his eyes dart down, watching carefully. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Steve..”

Then he leaned in, holding your hips with his hands, and pressed his lips… to your cheek. You tried not to deflate.

His palms lingered against you for a moment, then he pulled back. You couldn’t read his face.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

–

You texted him well after midnight.

You [1:12AM]: are you awake? S Rogers [1:12AM]: yes

Steve answered your call after the first ring. “Is everything okay?”

You couldn’t believe you had actually hit ‘call’ but something deep within you compelled you to. It was dark in your bedroom and you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve. You had been restless in bed for over an hour as his face flashed through your mind. Steve with his broad shoulders. Steve with his lingering hands. The way his chain bounced on his chest, how he growled when he came…

Just moments ago you had reached into your bedside table for your little vibrating toy. It wasn’t the first time you had put it to use thinking about Steve. But this time, you were imagining him tearing off that knit polo, the lingering smell of his aftershave, his weight on you.

If you couldn’t feel him, maybe you could hear him.

“I’m fine..” You said slowly. “Are you at home?” It occurred to you he might have gone directly to Shield after he dropped you off.

Your name left his lips, drawing your attention back to the call. “I’m home. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“What’s wrong is..” You tried to steady your breathing. Your voice dropped down. “.. you’re not in bed beside me.”

Silence. Then, you heard his breath hitch. “Baby..”

“I can’t..” You were whining into the phone. “I want to come, Steve. Will you help me? Please?.”

He chuckled, lowering his voice. “I can’t say no to that request, sweetheart. Tell me - what are you doing? You using that toy?”

“Uh huh,” you preened back. You had been sliding it across your skin, teasing yourself for as long as you could. “I’ve been thinking about you, Stevie. You and me.”

“Me too, baby. Fuck.” You could hear more shuffling on his side. Christ. Was he touching himself too? “Listen to me, I’m going to help you. Bet you’re already wet, aren’t you?”

You just whined in response.

“Turn that toy up a notch, baby. Circle your clit real slow. And what about your nipples? God, if I was there–”

“Tell me, please. If you were here..”

Half an hour later, as your laboured breathing settled after two quivering orgasms, Steve wished you goodnight and sweet dreams.

–––

Given it was the night before Thanksgiving, your boss has been flexible when you had to dash out early. The frantic call from Kate at the dog daycare had been surprising, but thankfully your heart rate steadied out when you learned that Hercules was okay. They hadn’t spared any other details, but politely asked owners to come collect their dogs earlier than usual.

Truthfully, you had barely been functional at work all week anyway. Sure, you went through the motions and got your tasks done but before a long weekend, most people were half-assing their responsibilities anyway. And your mind was still racing after Friendsgiving dinner and the phone call with Steve and… Steve.

Fuck.

You were one of the last to arrive at the daycare, patiently waiting in line to check Hercules out. Once you had him, leash in hand, you turned to leave. Then you spotted Natasha and Yelena chatting quietly to the side of the room, and, well, you couldn’t help but follow your gut.

You saw Yelena there quite often, but Natasha was a rare sighting. Ever since your conversation with Steve after the whole warehouse incident, something had been pricking at the back of your mind.

“..Natasha barely talked to me for weeks after that night..”

Taking a deep breath, you headed toward the sisters. Luckily, it seemed like their conversation had come to an end anyway as Yelena rushed past you with a hurried hello, then joined Kate somewhere behind the scenes. Nataha remained planted where she stood, scanning over her phone. She tipped her head up as you approached.

“Hey,” you started out slowly, offering a reluctant smile.

Nat crouched briefly, greeting Hercules with a few head scratches before she met your gaze again. “How are you?”

“I was wondering if.. you had like two minutes to chat?” You asked, eyes closed tight as you anticipated her answer. You weren’t sure what it was about Natasha, but she intimated you immensely. You weren’t scared of her but something made you want to impress her.

Natasha looked at her phone again, eyes narrowed, then back to you. “I can give you five.” With a nod of her head, you followed her behind the front desk and into the small staff kitchen area opposite the main daycare space.

While Natasha dropped onto one of the well worn couches, quickly joined by Hercules as you let go of his leash, you couldn’t steady yourself. All at once, your burning questions and thoughts swirled around in your mind. Then, you took a deep breath and opened your mouth.

“Steve told me a few weeks ago, that when we broke up.. he said you stopped talking to him for a while. I wanted to ask you why..” You raised a shoulder up to shrug, then watched Natasha from across the room.

After a few beats, she let out a quiet laugh. Then, she leaned forward on the couch, elbow resting on her knees, and she stared at you. “Can I be frank with you?”

You swallowed, then found a chair to sit on near a small table. “I’d rather you be Natasha..” When that clearly shielded attempt at humour landed no response, you cleared your throat and nodded. “Yes, please.”

Natasha sighed. “Steve trusts me and when he asks me for advice, I don’t sugar coat it. Dating Steve is not an easy task and your wellbeing is his top priority. So I get why he made his decision. But I did firmly advise him not to be an asshole about it. It was going to hurt you either way, but it was up to him to control the delivery.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, well, he did a terrible job.” It didn’t sting as much anymore – really. Given how much your friendship or whatever had evolved with him now, the words didn’t echo through your mind like they used to. You understood why he had made his choices and you could see his remorse in every interaction you’ve had since. Of course, it wasn’t possible to erase what had happened but you and Steve both looked back at it differently now.

Natasha relaxed again, pressing her back into the couch. “I have known Steve for a long time and I have rarely seen him act as selfishly as he did. You deserved better than a breakup over a phone call. Jesus, when he told me what he said – I should have gut punched him. In an attempt to protect you, he fucked up something good for you both. It’s bullshit and embarrassing.” Another sigh escaped her. “And, you didn’t hear this from me, but Steve has never let himself be happy. Because this world and this work can really leave you numb. He was so different once you came into his life, it was something else. So, I was rooting for you two.”

You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm up with her last sentence. This seemed like something rare, a secret revealed from someone prone to privacy.

“I see why he made his self sacrifice with you. It is classic Steve, if he cares about something, he cares deeply and shows it.” She pinned you with a stare, giving you another once over. “Here’s the thing. You get to decide if you want to forgive him but if you look back over everything – every single moment with Steve – was there a pattern that makes forgiveness worth it?” Her phone, which had been resting on the couch beside her leg, started to vibrate. “Shit. I’ve gotta take this.”

Natasha stepped away briefly, keeping her tone hushed.

Christ, you probably need a therapist to start unpacking everything that Natasha had just presented. Was there a pattern?

Yes.

Every single action from Steve since the beginning had been, well, selfless. He was constantly putting your needs above everything else. The day you saved him outside the restaurant, he took you to the one person he trusted the most for care. When you called him in distress during your apartment break in, he didn’t hesitate to come help you.

He picked up on your subtleties, your fears and concerns. He moved you to a safer apartment, he protected you from unsavoury people, he pleaded for your understanding, he always left you feeling satisfied. More importantly, he let himself be himself around you. You loved seeing the personal, soft side of Steve. You.. you loved Steve. And maybe it was time to take the leap of faith again - because you missed him when he wasn’t around.

Fuck.

Before your logical brain could catch up and decide what to do with this revelation, Natasha was standing in front of you again. Her eyes were hiding something.

You held your breath when she finally spoke.

“So, speaking of Steve…”

–––

Ever since that night, at the abandoned warehouse, on that rooftop.. Steve had been on edge. More than before. You were constantly on his mind, and despite his efforts to ensure you were safe, he couldn’t settle.

Well, until he got to hear your voice every night. That… that started to mean more to him than he could explain. It was different this time around - the slow build to flirting, wrapped underneath a foundation of familiarity.

But it felt like that spark from before had returned, though he couldn’t act on it.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Bucky had been his voice of reason through all of the confusing feelings. He kept Steve grounded in reality - that the ball was in your court only, forever. If you were ever going to humour Steve again, it was your choice, at your pace. And maybe it would never happen. Bucky had reminded Steve more than once.

Every agonizing decision Steve was making lately had you at the forefront. Maybe it wouldn’t end up how he wanted it, but if you were safe and secure and happy, nothing else mattered.

Though it had been completely irrational for Steve to make the crew rush to your apartment on a Friday night, the precautionary gamble ended up paying off. Not only were you perfectly safe, but Steve had somehow managed to end up with an invitation to dinner with your friends.

And dinner had gone surprisingly well too. The moments with you and in your world, away from his own, had been so calming. A reminder that life existed outside of the seedy underbelly, where friendly conversation and good food were the only reason why people got together. God, he had enjoyed every minute of it. But more than anything, he was happy to be at your side.

Leaving your doorway that night with just a simple kiss on the cheek had been hard for him to do. But everything needed to go at your pace. If that meant an inappropriate late night phone call, he’d help you out, too.

He was fucked.

Admittedly, the past few days had been a welcome distraction following Saturday night. Some events in his business life ended up escalating way quicker than Steve had anticipated - which largely meant ignoring other priorities (and thoughts of you) to assist Bucky with his latest project - the dog fighting ring investigation.

Steve had kept Rhodes in the loop about their plan, much to the former DA’s dismay. Steve had made it his own personal mission to take down this underground operation and he promised Rhodes the public credit. But Steve needed the NYPD to turn a blind eye to their plan.

The ambush took place that Wednesday afternoon, with Bucky, Steve, Sam and a few additional men breaking into an abandoned facility in north Queens and going in with plenty of ammunition. They recovered nearly a dozen dogs, most of which immediately went to a veterinary hospital to be checked out. The pups who didn’t need overnight care were to be transferred to Kate’s facility for the weekend, with the costs covered by Steve.

But, after all was said and done, not everyone had left unscathed. Four of the people organizing the dog fighting were sent to a hospital with some severe wounds thanks to Bucky. And Steve, out of all people, had ended up with a pretty dramatic gash in his left arm from one of the dogs. He didn’t blame the poor animal for the situation, of course. But medical attention was necessary.

That was how he ended up at his mom’s clinic - once again. Sarah Rogers had, of course, greeted him warmly then delivered a firm lecture to him about his personal safety.

Just as Sarah was finishing up cleaning his arm and applying a few temporary sutures to the area, there was a small commotion happening somewhere beyond their room at the entrance.

Steve didn’t hesitate to rush towards the lobby area, finding the intake nurse addressing someone at the door. That’s when he saw who that someone was - you.

Maybe he had lost more blood than he thought, but damn. With the late afternoon sunset streaming in, backlighting you perfectly, it looked like a halo of light. A perfect ring of light framing you, like an angel - as you desperately asked the front desk nurse about Steve, where he was, if he was okay.

The nurse was caught in a repetitive loop, explaining that she couldn’t say who was at the clinic and insisting that dogs weren’t allowed in the building and you needed to leave and –

Steve took a few steps forward, calling out your name.

Sarah hurried behind the desk and calmed down the girl who sat there, quietly pulling her to the side to leave Steve alone. With you.

“Steve!” You blinked twice and rushed towards him, stopping yourself before you crashed into his chest. “Natasha told me you were here and.. What happened?” You reached out and carefully grabbed his arm, where fresh gauze covered the bite.

Steve answered quickly, removing your hand from his arm and raising it up to kiss the back. “It looks worse than it is, I promise.”

You smiled at him and nodded. “Okay. Good.” Then you took a deep breath. “And all the dogs - they’re safe?”

“Yes, sweetheart. All receiving the care and rest they deserve.” Before Steve realized what was happening, you were throwing your arms around him. He whispered your name softly, rubbing a hand down your back.

You pulled back and met his soft gaze. “Steve..” You scanned over him again, as if double checking what he said was true. Aside from the bandaging on his arm, Steve truthfully was unharmed. His emotions had been a rollercoaster but for some reason, seeing you had helped settle most of that.

His hand moved and cradled your jaw for just a moment, before brushing against your cheek. “Did you rush all the way here because you were worried about me?”

Your eyes widened before you shook your head. “What? No. I’m not.. It was Hercules, actually, who wanted to make sure all the dogs were okay.”

Steve couldn’t hold back his grin. “Right.”

“We-” You motioned your head towards Hercules, who was sitting patiently nearby - “weren’t sure what Natasha meant when she said you were injured and..” A long slow breath escaped you. “I just needed to see you.”

Steve could understand your panic, given how he had dramatically rushed to your apartment building over the weekend. Those parallels weren’t lost on him. It had to mean something, right? It all had to mean something.

Your reunion was interrupted by Steve’s ringing phone, where he cursed under his breath before moving his hands from you. “I’ve gotta take this, I’m sorry.”

While Steve took his call from Bucky, you were quickly greeted by an excited Sarah, who grabbed your hand and pulled you away to catch up.

–––

Following your reunion at the clinic, Steve had one of his hands on you. Behind your back, holding your hand, his own hand on your knee on the drive back. He only let go briefly to let you hug Sarah goodbye, after you accepted her invitation to Thanksgiving dinner the next day.

Now, back at your apartment, all you could think about was what was Steve, Steve, Steve. His phone had buzzed with another call from Bucky the moment you stepped inside. He apologized before answering, and you could have sworn you heard him cursing his friend out.

You refreshed Hercules water and food bowls then went into your bedroom, trying to tidy the place up. When you went to pull your blinds down, you couldn’t help but find yourself distracted by the city. Although your view wasn’t as impressive as Steve’s penthouse, you could see into the Brooklyn streets below. At the right angle, you could even see the final orange glow of the sunset through some of the buildings.

It had proved to be a big enough distraction because you didn’t even hear Steve end his call or walk into the room behind you. Instead, you felt his hands on your shoulders, slowly wrapping around and pulling you against his chest. His lips brushed the top of your head.

“Everything good?” You murmured as his hands started to trail their way down your body.

“Mmhmm,” Steve replied quietly, dipping his head down, breathing hot against the side of your neck. “Is this okay?”

You closed your eyes. “Yes but..” It took everything in you to pause, but you turned around in his arms and did just that. “Wait.”

He immediately stopped what he was doing, removing his hands from you as he searched your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answered too quickly.

He said your name knowingly then repeated himself. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Okay, okay. I’m just going to say it. Steve, I want this again - with you. I want us to press reset but I’m really fucking scared.”

You watched Steve absorb your words. Telling the truth was something you knew you had to do, but you hoped Steve understood. He was still, but you could see his brain computing.

“And it’s not about the… rooftop thing. Although.. I definitely don’t think back to that night fondly.” You shook your head as you continued. “I’m scared you’re going to change your mind again. Because I don’t know if I can feel like that again. I’ve convinced myself that the good feelings outweigh that risk but..” Your voice cracked. “I’m scared.”

Steve grabbed your hands and turned you enough to help you sit on the bed. He crouched down in front of you, tracing his thumbs across your knees. “Sweetheart. Hurting you was the biggest regret of my life. I know my words can only mean so much but I want you to hear me.” You met his gaze and nodded. “I’m an idiot. An idiot who will do everything in his power to prove to you how much you mean to me. I can’t undo what I said and resetting doesn’t make it go away. But I love you and want to make this work for us if you’ll give me this chance.”

You raised your hands and cradled his face. “That was quite the speech.”

He smirked. “I mean it, baby. Every word.”

“Okay.” You took in another breath then let it out slowly.

“Okay?” Steve asked.

“Okay, let’s reset.” Your hands left his cheeks, carding through his hair as your lips crashed into his. Kissing Steve didn’t feel like going back to the beginning though - it felt like picking up where you left off.

Steve didn’t waste a moment responding, hands traveling to the back of your neck to steady you as he pushed you down on the bed. Everything happening now, in that moment, was all that mattered to you both. Steve wanted you, you wanted him. Nothing else needed to make sense.

Your hands roamed down Steve’s torso as he hovered over you, pulling at his shirt and trying to make quick work of the buttons. Steve shed his shirt without his lips leaving you, pressing hot wet kisses against your cheek, down towards your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, gasping when his teeth grazed your shoulder.

“Less clothes,” he whined out, removing himself from you long enough for your top to come off. He stood off the bed briefly to slip out of his pants, while you shimmied out of your jeans. You were left in just your underwear, some very unsexy unmatched set.

But lord, the way Steve looked at you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said firmly, crawling back over you on the bed. He braced himself above you again, tracing a finger up your jaw to tip your chin up.

You felt your cheeks grow warm. “Steve..”

‘“I’m sorry if what I said… on that phone call - if it ever made you doubt how fucking beautiful you are.” He dipped his head down and met your lips again, softer this time. “I love you, the shape of your body..” He trailed his kisses down you again, towards your chest. “Your heart..” His hands moved down the same way, tracing gently across your chest, along your soft stomach, on top of every single piece of you that you didn’t always love. “I love all of you.”

“Steve,” you whimpered under his touch, squeezing your eyes shut. “Please don’t make me cry.” You choked out a laugh, tipping your head back to mind your happy tears. When you looked back, he was staring at you with a lovestruck smile again. “Thank you. I love you too.”

He grinned, once again leaning down to press his lips to your skin. This time, it was just above your belly button. “It’s okay to cry, sweetheart. But how about I make you come instead?”

How could you argue with that?

Steve surveyed your form intently as he got back to work, hands and lips peppering against your skin. He slid his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and slid them down your legs. You helped to kick them away, just as Steve was licking his lips.

His eyes flicked to you. “Lay back, baby. Get comfortable.”

You were quick to shift on the bed, into your pillows. Just as you rested your head back, you felt the bed sink slightly just between your legs. Then the soft kisses that had been decorating your skin were inside your thighs. And then–

You let out a whimper when his mouth met your center. You knew you were already wet, but when Steve growled against your clit and slid a finger into you, it felt like a flood.

“Oh my g-god, Steve.” With one hand, you grasped at his hair. The other dragged across your chest, pulling your own bra down to grab your nipples. “Yes, yes, please.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, breathless as Steve continued stroking, suctioning against your clit as your moans grew louder. When another finger entered you, crooked inside in search of just the right spot, you nearly combusted. And when you did careen over the edge just moments later, Steve didn’t slow down.

In a daze you sat up slightly to watch him work. He was drowning in you, his own hips grinding against the bed as he consumed you. Jesus fucking Christ - that was hot. Steve was hot. This - this was hot.

“Steve,” you called for him as his mouth finally slowed down, returning to slow kisses against the inside of your thighs again. He looked up and met your eyes, drunk with love and contentment. “I need to feel you - please.”

“Okay, baby,” he replied with a soft smile. “Let me take care of you.” He shucked off his boxers and crawled up the bed again, hovering above you once more.

You raked your hands over his chest when he was close enough, gripping his hips as you pulled him down and kissed him. Your own taste lingered on his lips and tongue as he breathed into you.

“You ready?” He asked softly, reaching between your waists to position himself.

“Mmhmm,” you whispered, pressing another kiss against him. “Please.”

“Fuck,” Steve cursed out, eyes closing as he pushed himself in. God, you fit together so well. Once he felt comfortable, watching you for the right signs of pleasure, he moved out slowly before finding a rhythm.

“Steve, I missed you so much..” You wrapped your hands around his neck, in an attempt to keep him as close to you as possible. With one hand, he held one of your legs up, just enough to elicit better friction. And with the other, he cradled the back of your neck. “Missed this - this stretch..”

You could feel him smiling as he kissed you again. His hips sped up, adding just enough extra pressure that you could really feel him. You’d feel him tomorrow, too.

“My girl,” he said breathlessly against your neck. “Always. Mine..” His mouth ravaged your neck and shoulders. “Want this forever.. Want you forever..” He slowed down momentarily. “Wanna fill you up, baby.”

“Yes, yes please..” you said in return, scratching across his back with your hands as you braced yourself. A low growl escaped him as he came. He tensed up as he finished, weight heavy on top of you as you both caught your breaths.

As his head rested near yours, his lips pressed against your earlobe. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I love you.”

You were still laying in a daze when Steve returned to you in the bed after cleaning up, placing a cup of tea on the bedside table closest to you. His own matching cup rested in his hands. You sat up, pulling up the sheet with you as you rested against the headboard.

Shifting slightly, you pivoted to look at him. “I really missed you.”

He grinned. “So you said.”

“No, not just that.” You gave his shoulder a small nudge, careful not to jostle his tea. “I just like being around you.”

His smile softened. “Me too.” He drew in a long breath and moved his cup to the side table before continuing. He said your name, drawing your gaze to his. “Resetting doesn’t make who I am go away.”

You gulped. “I know.” He seemed to be searching for what to say next, so you continued instead. “I can’t pretend to understand why you do what you do. And I don’t decide what is right and wrong. Neither of us do.” You took a deep breath. “But I want to be with you. That makes me feel a little bit crazy but maybe that’s part of being in love.”

Steve laughed. “You’re in love, huh.”

Rolling your eyes, you fell into his side. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

“And I love you, baby.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest, against his heart. He kissed your forehead. “I’m going to keep my professional life at bay. I won’t be able to stop it from bleeding into this but I promise you I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I take that privilege seriously.” You felt him squeeze you a bit tighter. “Though I do think there are some precautions we can take, too.”

“We?” You pulled back slightly and watched him.

“I’m going to get you something for your keys and pepper spray for your bag. How would you feel about taking a self-defense class?”

You scrunched up your face as you considered. “It has been on my to-do list for a long time.” Even without a high profile partner like Steve, knowing you feel prepared in times of danger was something you knew was important. You probably should have prioritized it sooner, really.

“Natasha teaches a class, actually. At her gym.”

“Natasha has a gym?” You nodded. “Yeah, okay. I could do that. Will you take the class with me?”

Steve laughed again. “I don’t need self-defense training, sweetheart.”

“But then we can practice together. C’mon, pleeease.”

Steve groaned, but it was evident very quickly he’d do anything you asked. So, he nodded. “Fine.”

You paused. “You’re not going to make me carry a gun, are you?”

“First of all, I’d never make you do anything.” He sat up a bit straighter, face stern. “And no, absolutely not. I hope you are never in a position where that kind of defense is required.”

You settled against him again. Big conversations like this were expected and you knew it made sense to feel a bit scared still. But, that wasn’t the feeling lingering in your stomach anymore. No, it was more like… safety, contentment, familiarity.

It was something akin to being home.

–––

Shield closed down on Christmas Eve and reopened on New Years Eve, so you weren’t sure why Steve needed to check in there in the middle of the holiday week. Sure, his office was upstairs but he had vowed to do as little work as possible over your days off together. And yet, after a lovely dinner together, he apologetically announced there was something there he needed to check in on.

You had shared a few delicious plates at May’s, a small Italian place in Queens. Steve had given you a history of the restaurant on your way - it was one of the first properties he invested in years ago so it was clearly a special place. When you arrived, the server had immediately showed you to a more intimate table tucked away in the back corner.

Wine and food arrived at the table without a menu or many words exchanged between the server and Steve. After you had finished eating - polishing off one of the best tiramisus you had ever tasted - the restaurant owner, May, came out to say hello.

When you left without mentioning a bill, you had a feeling that the business Steve did with May extended beyond just being a landlord. You didn’t ask any questions though.

Over the last month with Steve, the questionable moments were quite rare. He really did maintain the boundary between his personal life and everything else, with only a bit of a crossover. You had joined him at the club a few times - because you realized dating the club owner eliminated all the awful things you hated about going out. You never had to wait for entrance or for a drink ever again. Your friends especially liked the free drinks and safe rides home, too.

That was only a fringe benefit of being with Steve though. What really stood out to you was just Steve. Getting to know each other all over again had been exciting and fulfilling, in many ways.

You kept up your nightly phone calls. Well, when you weren’t crashing at his or him dropping into your bed, you kept up the calls. You had spent Thanksgiving with him at Sarah’s and were greeted with boxes of childhood photos to fawn over. For Christmas, you, Steve and Sarah had all travelled up to Albany to spend the day cooking and celebrating with your mom.

Slowly, it seemed your worlds would be blending together. And you weren’t really sure what the future was going to hold and how that might transpire, but you decided it was worth seeing what could happen. Because being with Steve seemed worth it.

“I promise this won’t take too long,” Steve’s voice broke you from your thoughts, as he parked his car near the back exit of the club. It was a small lot reserved for Steve and Shield staff members only, currently only occupied by one other black car. You weren’t sure who that belonged to. Maybe Natasha was there doing inventory of the bar before New Years.

You gave him a smile from the passenger seat, leaning over to meet his lips for a kiss. “Remember that we have a big day of sleeping in without an alarm tomorrow so..” He smirked. “Take all the time you need.”

Steve bounded out of the car and raced around to help you out, extending his hand to ensure you stepped safely onto the asphalt. You had dressed up for dinner, picking out your favourite black dress paired with some heels that didn’t cause you too much pain to walk in. Steve had grinned like a schoolboy when he picked you up, which made you feel, well, beautiful. You had paired the dress with your Christmas gift from him - a stunning gold and diamond pendant, shaped like a wing. A matching wing now sat with the chain on his neck, too.

You clutched Steve’s hand as you headed through the backdoor of the club. From the dark back hallway, you could have sworn you could hear music playing somewhere. Maybe it was just the memory of whatever song was just playing in Steve’s car.

As you twisted down the hallway, past the back office, storage rooms, and the back stairs up towards the second floor, the music grew a bit louder. You definitely heard music. You tried to ask Steve what was going on but he just squeezed your hand, threw a mischievous grin over his shoulder and carried on.

When you finally made it to the main club area, it was still pitch black. The music kept playing. You grasped both of Steve’s hands in a panic and by the time you had formed a sentence to ask a worried question, the lights powered on.

But it wasn’t the regular industrial overhead lights. Nor was it the multicoloured pot lights that danced around to match the beat of the club music. No, this was something else.

Above you, the multicoloured lights were steady and emitting just a soft blue tone. Across the open railings above, partitioning off the downstairs area from the VIPs upstairs, various strands of string lights were hung and illuminated. It made the club area feel almost intimate.

You dropped Steve’s hands and turned around, speechless as you took it all in. On the end of the bar, you spotted a bottle of champagne sitting on ice with two matching glasses waiting. The music playing above you switched to something softer. An old song crackled through the speakers.

You turned back to Steve, who was gazing at you.

He stepped towards you, hand extended. “Dance with me, sweetheart?”

How could you say no to that request?

Steve helped you take off your coat and discarded his own. Then he pulled you towards the very center of the room, under a now spinning disco ball that splashed flickers of light around the space.

“Steve,” you started, resting your head against his chest. One of his palms cradled the small of your back while the other grasped your hand, hovering in the air as he led you in slow circles.. “Did you do this all just for me?”

He chuckled. You could feel it rumble through him. “Bucky helped me out.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand in response. You didn’t know what to say.

And maybe that was okay, because at that moment, it was just you and Steve. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I promise I’ll always dance with you.”

FIN

-----

Author's Note: Thank you again so much for reading! I have a few ideas for additional one shots in this AU, including a smutty little threesome fic and a small story with Bucky and a girl from the club. if you have any questions or want to know more about this universe or Steve and Reader, please please drop into my inbox or the comments!! love you all!!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers x plus sized reader #steve rogers x you #mob boss steve rogers #mob boss steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #story: sink into me #simmerandwrite #simmerandcry

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neonovember · 6 months

Text

Deceit

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

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

divider by @firefly-graphics !

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His reach was absolute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet it had men like Steve falling to his knees!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He might as well have died along with her.

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

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

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

You’d much prefer the monster.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You cut your eyes towards him, narrowing your lids.

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s different” You reply evenly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

His brown locks shift as he turns back to you

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

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

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

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

Not that shitty huh Bucky?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You blurt out

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

What had changed?

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

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

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

“Friend?” You reply

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

“Sure”

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

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

“Mare?

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

Especially in New York.

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

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

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

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

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stuckyslut8 · 3 months

Text

Tastes like strawberries.

Masterlist.

Pairing: chubby baker bucky x mob reader x mob steve.

Summary :your sweet boyfriend bucky is stuck in a tight spot between you and your rival steve rogers.

Warning : 18+ under the cut, minors dni, smut, fluff, oral receiving, anal, kind of cheating.(poly).typos.

"ughh bucky.." you moaned as bucky sucked on your clit, teasing your sensitive nub, "fuck I'm I'm gonna come baby."

Bucky looked up from where he was, still on his knees in the middle of your office as he gave you his wicked smile. "Come for me sugar."

You came on cue, letting out a loud moan as bucky worked on 'eating his favorite dessert '. You leaned further back in your chair, in exhaustion from the fifth time he's made you come using his fingers and mouth.

You see bucky only came here to drop off your favorite red velvet cupcakes,but of course it wasn't free ,you had to pay for it by letting him eat 'his pussy'. You'd told him you only had about an hour before you had to meet steve to discuss about your new shipment. So bucky got straight to work, 'that's more than enough time sugar, think we could beat our record this time?'

And who were you to deny your sweet baker boyfriend his favorite meal. So here you were panting for breath as he was finally done and cleaned you up just in time as steve knocked on your door. "Just a minute rogers. "

You qucikly pressed a kiss to your favorite baker, thanking him for the cupcakes, "of course sugar , meet ya tonight."

You gave his ass a pat as he walked out, but it was not just you who had your eyes on his cake, the one and only steve rogers too was watching watching the sweet baker go.

"Come in steve." Steve entered with a knowing smirk on his face, "that your new toy sweetheart?" He asked sitting down on the big cozy chair.

"Shut up rogers,he's just my delivery boy ,came to give me my favorite cupcakes." You said motioning towards the box , steve eagerly took one and had a bite ,he moaned at he taste of it.

"Mmph it's really good sweetheart, wish i had a sweet delivery boy who came to my office in the middle of the day, to give me sweet cupcakes and a pussyjob, or in my case a blowjob, i bet he'd like that." Steve saw your eyes widening, "oh come on you don't think i'd know that you've been fucking that sweet baker boy from brooklyn, it's my territory after all."

"No it's not yours..and who i fuck is none of your business. " you said pouring yourself and steve each a glass of whiskey.

"Hmm such a shame, I'd love to make him ride my cock while you got yourself off watching us, wouldn't that be a dream, pretty girl." You'd be lying if you said Steve's words didn't turn you on, or make you imagine the scenario vividly in your head , but you can't do this now.

"Keep your dirty hands off of him...let's talk business, that's what you're here for."

"Alright then ." the blonde said downing his whiskey.

You got home after the long day to find bucky on the couch, "welcome home sugar." He stood up to give you a longing kiss. "I ordered us pizza for dinner it'll be here in 10."

"Hmm i don't think i can wait until then , I'm hungry.." you pouted to your six foot boyfriend, hands grabbing his soft belly ,giving it a squeeze.

"Oh maybe i can make you something in the meantime- " his words died down as he saw tou drop to your knees and pulling down his sweatpants, "I'm hungry for your cock daddy." Bucky's mouth formed an o in realizing your words.

"Uh of course you can always have my cock prettygirl." He said blushing.

You got to work right then, making your boyfriend see heaven as he came thrice by the time the pizza arrived.

"I uh I'll go get it." Bucky hasitly pulled up his pants as he went to get the pizza knocking down some things on his way. 'Such a sexy clumsy man' you thought.

"oh and bucky." You said as you were eating rhe pizza, "did steve come to the bakery recently ?"

Bucky almost choked on the drink he was having ,"uh steve? The blonde guy at your office today sugar?" He enquired .

"Yeah that guy."

"Uhm no sugar." He said ,like a liar as he thought about that night, a week ago when the blonde mobster decided to 'visit' his bakery at the time of closing it was almost 9, with no one around.

He somehow convinced bucky into having a drink at his bar, saying he needed to discuss some important things about your safety , and bucky being the good boyfriend he is of course agreed.

Bucky didn't miss the way the blonde's eyes raked all over his body and he'd be lying if he said he didn't check out Steve's spectacular ass in those tight jeans .

Steve told him some bullshit story about the mobsters in newyork ...and went on to flirt with bucky shamelessly.

One thing led to another, and he ended up in Steve's place, sucking his cock like a gold boy.

"Oh fuck ,i knew y/n kept you around for a reason bucky aghh..you're so good keep going pretty boy. " he said as he came in bucky's mouth.

And ended up fucking bucky on his bed all night, making bucky cry in pleasure.

"Oh i know prettt boy, you're tight asshole hasn't been fucked like that in a long time ,has it?" Steve showered him in praises and told him about how much of a good boy bucky is, taking him so well in his tight hole.

Bucky never spoke of that night to anybody, he knew it was wrong getting involved with your rival, he knew how dangerous it was too. But he liked the thrill, and loved how Steve's big cock split him open. He hoped it would be a one time thing that never happened again.

But steve's got other plans.

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ramp-it-up · 2 years

Text

All I Want

Paring: Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 3.4 K

Summary: Steve has left you alone for a week with no explanation. Will you let him back into your life?

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, Lil bit of ANGST. A lot of FLUFF Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. A slap on the face, organized crime, implied violent retaliation, Bucky’s arm injury implied, Steve simping for reader, reader watching porn, sloppy toppy, gagging, swallowing, coached masturbation, oral (m/f receiving) fingering, nipple play, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) breeding kink, size kink, violence (due to mob world).

A/N: This is a bonus for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask and any other requests for a part 2 to Try a Little Tenderness. Here it is babes, I hope you like it as much as the first part. Happy New Year! 🍾

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified 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.

Sam came, and he watched as you paced in your closed store the first day after the dust up at DUMBO. He told you minimal information, just that Bucky was alive and that he was going to stay there per Steve’s ‘request’ until he asked him to leave.

“I’m opening my store today.”

“No. You are not.”

Sam was usually nice, with that beautiful smile on display whenever he picked up Steve’s gifts. But now, he was steadfast.

You were hot. Not only at Steve for not telling you the whole story, but at everyone.

You couldn’t just sit around all day. You walked up to Sam and stood toe to toe.

“Take off that expensive jacket.”

You had an apron with the store logo in your hand.

Hours later, Sam took a break from helping you do store inventory to take a call. You kept working as he stepped into the back room. Then, you walked back to listen.

You peeked around your corner to see Sam letting out a sigh of relief.

“Good. At least that’s progress? He squeezed your hand?”

He paused.

“I know he has a long way to go, but you know Buck’s a fighter.”

“…Yes. Steve. I’m trying, but you know she’s stubborn…She’s okay. She’s a pistol, and she’s working me to death. She’s pissed at you though. At all of us. Yeah… I don’t think I can protect you from that. I’ll tell her it will be a while…”

You went back to your spreadsheet feeling some kind of way. Steve had time to call Sam, but not you. Okay.

Sam stepped out of the back room.

“Bucky’s alive. He was very badly injured, his left arm is…”

Sam paused, looking at you warily.

You looked back at him relieved, yet anxious at the same time.

“Let’s just say that he has a long road.”

You nodded and swallowed.

“What about Steve?”

You hated yourself for asking Sam. You should have been talking to Steve. But you couldn’t help it.

“He’s fine. Just has some… work to do right now.”

Your stomach dropped and you lifted your chin.

“What Steve does with his time has nothing to do with me, Sam. I don’t own him and he certainly does not own me.”

You were ready to fight.

“It’s not like we’re in a relationship. Steve’s fine, Bucky’s alive. So you can go now.”

You looked him in the eye so that he could get the message.

Sam shook his head.

“That’s not gonna happen Y/N.”

You glared at him.

“Tell your Boss that I’m sending you back.”

Sam advanced upon you, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt you.

“Learn this, Y/N. Steve’s not my Boss. He’s my friend, and just like Bucky, he’s my partner. I'm doing him a favor making sure you’re alright. That’s what friends do. You can’t send me back.”

You two stared at each other. This must be what it was like to have a brother.

“You know you’re very annoying.”

“Same, lady.”

You fought the urge to laugh and wanted to stick your tongue out at him.

“Get back to work. We have the entire stockroom to count.”

Sam shook his head and obliged.

Six days later, on Christmas Eve, the bell rang, signaling someone opening the door. You turned with a smile to greet the customer to see Steve standing there.

It was liked the wind was knocked out of you.

Steve stood there, staring at you, looking very tired, but with those same sparkling blue eyes. And he had the nerve to smile at you.

“Can I have the usual?”

He was a sight for sore eyes. You’d spent the week worried and frustrated, in addition to mad as hell. But he looked so damn good.

You walked over to Steve, and gazed up at him as he beamed down on you. You did the only thing you could think to do.

You slapped him.

“How dare you!”

Sam, who was in his apron behind the register, audibly gasped, because it didn’t end well with the last woman who slapped Steve. She’d ended up climbing out of a dumpster where Steve had unceremoniously placed her.

You looked over at Sam.

“Here is your friend, Sam. Talk to him. Because I certainly won’t.”

Steve’s heart was beating a mile a minute as he rubbed his face. That fire pent up inside you signaled a need for release. He watched you hungrily as you left, then turned back to Sam.

You stormed upstairs toward your apartment, hearing the beginnings of thier conversation.

“I thought we agreed to keep the store closed, Sam.”

“Well, the store’s owner might have a little to say to that. Have you ever tried to get her to do something she didn’t want to do?…”

You went upstairs, straight to the kitchen, reaching for your liquor cabinet. It was only noon, but you needed a drink.

You heard the door open behind you and did not turn around. You heard his steps into the kitchen, but you were immovable.

“Pour me one?”

You reached for a glass and slammed it down on the counter next to you, then poured some Uncle Nearest into it. You still didn’t look at him, but you shivered as he stepped behind you, nearly touching you to reach around for the glass, but only sharing his body heat.

“I deserve your anger, Ambrosia, But at the beginning, I genuinely thought that you knew who I was. I mean….”

You spun around, eyes full of fire, facing down Steve’s desire for you. And there was something else in his eyes. But you launched in nevertheless.

“At no time over dinner, or while you were sweet talking me into bed, did you mention that you were the head of an international crime organization. And then you put my business in danger. And apparently my life???”

Steve sighed and scrubbed his face.

“I know you’re angry, Baby, but you gotta listen to me.”

You closed your mouth and crossed your arms.

Steve’s face softened. At least you weren’t running away.

“I said at the beginning I thought you knew who I was. But then I realized that you didn’t know me as Steve Rogers the big bad dude, I was just that one customer who was sweet on you and sent gifts. And that made me fall for you even more.”

When he said ‘fall for you,’ your eyes went to his.

“Yeah, I said it.”

“Steve…”

You were trying to remain upset, but he was so sincere. Your resolve was weakening.

“Fall for me? You haven’t spoken to me in a week, Steve. You called Sam every day but…”

“I had work to do. Bucky was injured and he was touch and go. And I had to take care of… I had to take care of some things.”

He looked at you and slowed down.

“You had work to do? So did I. But you told me to close my store. You couldn’t have taken a few minutes to call, to text? I figured I didn’t mean as much to you as I thought.”

You looked down at your dirty chucks, and at Steve’s Ferragamos.

Steve moved closer and tilted your head up by your chin. The electricity from his fingers was almost too much.

“No, Ambrosia.”

Steve’s eyes were wild now, and desperate. He wanted you to understand so badly, but he knew it would seem outlandish.

“You mean so much more. I fell for you because there were no expectations. I kept buying you gifts and you kept sending them back. And I thought you didn’t want me. But then when I asked you on a date and you accepted, I realized that…”

“…That all I want is you.”

You looked up at him and bit your lip. Steve could hardly contain himself.

“I can listen to you, Steve. And I would have listened if you called.”

Steve leaned down and kissed your lips softly. He groaned when you yielded to him, opening your mouth and peeking out your little tongue. He wanted to ravage you, but first, you had to understand.

“You’ve got to know. You’ve got to know that you change me Ambrosia. With you I am a different man. I couldn’t call you because you make me weak.”

Steve kissed your frown and started talking again.

“With you, weak is a good thing. I am gentle, I am kind. I am patient.”

Steve looked into your eyes.

“I am in love.”

You gasped.

“Steve…”

“You gotta listen. When I left, all I could think about, besides Bucky, was you. Your smile, your wit, your laugh, your body. How it felt to make love to you. To be inside you. To make you cum. Do you remember, do you remember how it felt?”

You smiled and nodded, playing with the St. Christopher’s medal around his neck.

“Look at me. Do you remember? Use your words.”

You clenched at his command. And you obeyed.

“Yes, Steve. I remember. I was sore for three days.”

Your admission and the new huskiness in your voice made him pull you closer and you could feel the pulsing in his pants. You also felt his heart beating in his chest.

“Fuck, Ambrosia. You make me wanna ruin you again.”

The way you looked at him indicated that you wanted the same. Steve felt his knees almost give out. He chuckled.

“See? You make me weak in the knees. Thoughts of you make me soft. And for what I had to do, I couldn’t be. D’you understand?”

You tried to think rationally. You knew what he was saying without saying it. He had to do horrible things. You watched the news this past week. You knew what Steve was responsible for. But you didn’t care. Bucky was always nothing but kind to you. And he was Steve’s best friend.

You thought about what you would have done in this situation. You looked back up at Steve.

“I understand.”

You bit your lip again.

“And I am still standing here with you because it is too late for me to tell you to leave. I endured Sam sleeping on my couch for a week and protecting me because I love you too, Steve. I think I have been in love with you for months now. And then, last week...”

Your hands moved to slip his jacket off his shoulders, kneading them and feeling the tension there. Steve’s eyes sought yours again.

“You love me too?”

“Yes, are you tired?”

“Exhausted, but… You want me to stay?”

“Yes…”

Your hand was on the outside of Steve’s pants, grasping his hardness and making him groan, knowing that he was leaking in his underwear. His hands moved up your sides and lifted you up to sit on the counter.

He dove into your neck, inhaling your scent and giving you gentle kisses that made you arch your back and your breasts into his chests. Then, he started sucking hickeys into you as his hands came up to knead and grasp you, and to tease your nipples with his thumbs.

“All week I’ve gone to bed and woken up rock hard to visions of you. Didn’t wanna jack off. I need you Ambrosia. Need to see you cum again. Need to bury myself deep inside you. Need for you to hug me in all the ways. Need to see your beautiful body. Need to sleep with you in my arms. I’m tired. Tired of being without you.”

You nuzzled his ear, knowing that the only important thing right now was his need. And yours.

“Sounds like you need me to suck your dick.”

You felt bold because he wasn’t looking at you.

The man literally growled in your ear and then picked you up, still wrapped around him like a vine, and carried you to your bedroom. He sat you down on your bed and looked down on you as you looked up at him.

“What did you say?”

Steve made sure to hold your head up so you could look him in the eye. Your eyes watered as you licked your lips and took a deep breath.

“I said, I want to suck your dick.”

“That’s… what I thought you said.”

Steve continued to hold your head by your chin, and stuck his thumb in your mouth as he undid his pants. You squirmed as you got wet at the sound of his belt clanging on the floor and sucked his thumb like it was going out of style.

Steve could hardly catch his breath for anticipation and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He looked down at you as he pumped his massively hard cock in your face.

“I want to be very, very rough with you, but I’m not going to hurt you, Baby. You want this?”

Steve moved himself to within an inch of your lips.

“Please…”

You made to move closer, but he held you fast. You almost felt his dick jump when you saw it. You squirmed again.

“Can you take it?”

You managed to extend your tongue and collect the drops of precum on his tip, making Steve shiver as his blazing eyes looked down on you.

“Fuck my face…”

“Holy!”

Steve grabbed both sides of your head as you opened wide and accepted him into your mouth.

“That hot little mouth, holy shit, Ambrosia. How do you…”

You concentrated and allowed him to push past your tonsils to your throat, then suckled him as he pulled out, tracing your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock. You ran your hands up his sides, tracing his v cut and abs upward under his shirt. Steve scrambled to take it off, and then pulled you off of him to take your shirt off.

“Where did you learn that?”

Steve raised his eyebrow as you grabbed for him again. He tried to be gentle, but you wouldn’t allow it, as you bottomed out again.

This time when you pulled off, gasping you said one word, “Porn,” and then started slurping sloppily again.

Steve stood there, head thrown back as you took his hips and went to town.

“Thank goodness for technology.”

You hummed your agreement, and then went for the gold.

“Ho-ho-holyyyyy. I’m gonna, fuckkkk Ambrosia, I’m gonna…”

You started gagging louder and finally, Steve took your head in order to use your mouth for his pleasure.

“It’s gonna be a lot… “

Steve was looking down on you with lust and you basked in it.

“You gonna swallow?”

You nodded eagerly, as Steve bared his teeth with an effort to hold back. You played with his balls, and he couldn’t anymore.

“Swallow like a good… fucking… girl…”

With those three thrusts, Steve sent a torrent of spend past your lips. You gulped it down and Steve thought he’d died and gone to heaven. He fell to his knees and you hugged him, assenting to his kiss so that he could taste himself on you.

“Thank you for that. Now I can think straight.”

He moved to push you back on the bed.

“So, my sweet Ambrosia has been watching porn, huh?”

“I missed you Steve. Missed your cock.”

Steve shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Baby. I’m so sorry.”

Steve was now taking off your shoes, pants, and panites. He kissed your thighs and spread your legs with his hands. He was looking deep into your intimate parts.

“My little sweet flower. Still so beautiful. But now she’s so sloppy.”

Those blue eyes looked at you, and your cheeks warmed.

“What happened?”

That deep voice.

“You know, Steve…”

“You like sucking my cock, yeah?”

“Yes, I do. Been dreaming of it.”

Steve grunted. His cock coming back to life at your words.

“You been touching yourself?”

“I have, but nothing compares to you. Didn’t know if I would see you again. Was thinking of getting a toy.”

Steve looked angry for a second.

“Never doubt, as long as I have breath in my body. You will see me again.”

His eyes flicked down your body, reminding you of possession.

“Show me how you touched yourself. I wanna watch. Will you let me watch you cum?”

You squirmed at the request.

“Ssteeevvveeee!”

“Don’t be shy. Look. I’ll join you.”

Steve leaned up on his elbow and started stroking his dick, making you wetter than you already were.

You bit your lip and slid your hands from your tits down your sides, one moving back up to play with your nipple, and the other finding your clit. You licked your lips as your fingers played in your slippery slit and lubricated your button. The sound was pornographic as your movements indicated how wet you were.

You watched as Steve opened his mouth and moved his hand faster.

“Put your fingers inside, baby. Pretend they’re mine.”

You shivered as you obeyed and your thumb tuned your body to a marvelous frequency with Steve watching. It was so erotic. You started to cum when Steve started moaning.

“How pretty. Y’look so pretty getting off. Pretty little fingers in that gorgeous hole. My sweet Ambrosia…”

He was descending toward your center, breath hot on your cunt. He inhaled deeply, taking in the essence of you.

“Let me be your toy…”

And his lips wrapped around your vibrating clitoris, sliding it between his lips quickly at first, causing you to jump, then, when his strong hands held your thighs open, he suckled it completely into his mouth and used his tongue to try and suck the life out of you.

You screamed and Steve slipped a finger inside your tight hole, thrusting gently at first, and then adding another finger and becoming more insistent in the quest for your orgasm.

You came very quickly, knees around his head before he pried them off and then held you open. Steve blew on your cunt to extend the sensations, and thrummed your clit while you begged him to stop. The quivers were extended as he came up and sucked your nipples, and pulling his hair only spurred him on longer.

When you finally, finally came down, your hoarse voice complained to,

“All my stars and heavens, Steve!”

“How can you be so fucking cute and so damn sexy at the same time. My dream girl.”

Steve kissed your forehead as you grabbed his cock and started pumping.

“Gimme.”

Steve tried to frown at you.

“So demanding.”

“Steve please.”

“You want this dick?”

Your breathy “Yes!” almost made him almost cum in your hand.

“You. Are going to be the death of me.”

Steve held your thighs in your hands and pushed them up beside you.

His stiff cock seemed to know the way home as he positioned himself at your entrance. He slid the thick head inside you as you keened as you knew his shaft was almost as thick.

“You okay, Baby?”

“Hnnngh.. Oh Steve…give me more…”

Steve almost exploded at your face and the way you were squeezing him.

“Okay.. I don’t really wanna… hurt…”

“Hurt me pleaseeeee.”

“Shiiiitttttttt.”

Steve slid into your very wet canal and stayed there as you wrapped all of your limbs around him as you got used to his girth again.

“I-I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum… inside… I can’t… you’re gripping me so… so so tight…”

“Mmmmmmghhh! Give me!”

And Steve started moving, slowly at first, and as you urged him on, faster and deeper.

“I had plans for how I was gonna… fuck…”

“Oh my god… Steve, I’m…”

“I wanted to go nice and slow… ohhhhhh…”

When he felt you quiver around him was when he started cumming.

“Fuck! It’s too soon… oh my god you feel so good…”

Steve buried his face into your neck, huffing and puffing as his cum spurted out of him and into your warm goodness. You felt every splash of his hot ejection inside you and briefly considered the consequences.

So did Steve.

“Oh shit, I came inside you.”

Steve looked pretty pleased with himself. You had to laugh.

“I can’t with you, Steve.”

“I believe you just did.”

You both chuckled as he kissed you and collapsed on the bed.

Steve pulled you close.

“Sam is probably down there dealing with customers…still got bills to pay. The lights, the mortgage…”

You were dumping the last thoughts out of your head as you were falling asleep.

“Not the mortgage anymore. Valkyrie bought it from Wells Fargo…”

Steve sighed and kissed you on the forehead, exhaustion finally catching up with him.

“Oh, ” You replied as you snuggled closer to him.

And both of you fell into the warm embrace of deep sleep for an afternoon nap.

READ Part three I WONDER

If you liked it, please reblog!

#dj’salliwant4kchristmas22 #ask dj #dj will answer #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x black reader x lloyd hansen #steve rogers fics #mob!steve rogers #mob boss steve rogers #mob boss!steve #mob boss! steve rogers x reader #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson

2K notes · View notes

sarahowritesostucky · 8 months

Text

📖Make it Stick: Pt. 4

The Dragon, The Princess & The Knight

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky x ofc x Steve

Word Count: 4331

Tags: dark!fic, mob/mafia au, mob!Bucky, mob!Steve, dubcon/noncon, sexual coercion, half-sibling incest, m/f/m, non-con drug use, mentions of torture (non graphic), double penetration, forced tattooing, forced orgasms, enemies to lovers

Summary: When his babygirl—his sweet pea, little one, puppy ... half-sister—is recaptured after her latest attempt at running away, Bucky makes a power play in front of the entire Bratva to remind her exactly who she belongs to.

Dark and smutty content below the break. Consume responsibly.

Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!

The Dragon’s Den is located on the bottom two floors of a five-story building. Bucky owns the entire thing. There are offices and meeting rooms on the third floor, a large gathering space on the fourth, and his personal apartment on the fifth. It’s a penthouse: luxurious, all windows but not much of a view, given the location. But that’s okay. It serves its purpose.

Lena gets quiet when they take her up in the elevator, but she’s keyed up and loose from the drugs, Bucky can tell. Her eyes roam all around the familiar apartment when they get up there, from the luxe couches and the fireplace, to the kitchen and bar, to the bed. It isn’t a canopy bed so much as it is a mattress, richly-dressed and surrounded by semi-sheer drapes that hang from the ceiling in every direction, pooling sumptuously on the floor and turning the area around the bed into its own room.

It’s a fuck pad—exactly what Bucky designed it for.

Bucky follows her there, watching her looking at the bedspread with dazed eyes. She’s high, the drugs coursing through her system. That’s good. The aphrodisiacs were part of the plan from the beginning, to help her loosen up for what comes next. Bucky doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt over it. If Lena refuses to admit her feelings on her own, then he’s glad to give her a little help until she can. He comes up to stand behind her as she trails her fingers over the bedspread. His hands settle on her hips. “Haven’t changed a thing, malyshka,” he murmurs, bending to kiss lightly at her neck, just under her ear. “Kept it for you.”

“For your whores,” she mutters.

Far from upsetting him, the accusation actually makes Bucky smile, because it means she cares. “No,” he tells her with a low chuckle. “I haven’t been with another woman other than you, sweet pea. Not in nine whole years.” He’d slipped in the beginning, just in that first year, before he’d given up on morality and decided that she was going to be it for him. Before he’d been sure of her feelings for him in return. “Not, one,” he repeats against her neck, smug.

She whirls around in his arms, eyes wide and lips parted. Her surprise turns to a scowl. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he says calmly, holding her gaze, and he can see the doubt creep into her expression, the wavering disbelief.

“He’s not,” Steve adds, from where he’s fixing drinks over at the bar—straight on the rocks for them, cranberry spritzer for her. He’s using the Russo-Baltique without having asked, and Bucky concurs: the occasion calls for it. Steve stirs the drinks with a clink of ice. “He loves you Polina. Don’t know why you refuse to accept it.”

Bucky sees her cheeks color prettily, and he cups the side of her face. “You really scared me this time,” he tells her, dropping all pretense and just letting her see him. “Ten months? That’s too long, Lena.” He shakes his head, sees her swallow. He edges closer and pulls on her waist so that she’s pressed up against him, her eyes skipping over his face uncertainly. “Too long,” he whispers, before he dips down and captures her mouth in a kiss that feels like coming home.

It’s not like it’d been downstairs. She’s off her guard now, all emotions and no defenses, and even though her body stiffens for the barest second, after that she goes soft against him, sobbing once against his mouth in a way that says she’s missed him, too. Missed this.

Bucky kisses her harder, hand sliding to pull her in at her lower back and cradle the back of her head. He holds her and lets her hide in their kiss for a few more seconds. It almost aches to pull away and end it, but Bucky knows himself, knows he won’t be able to keep from pushing her back the handful of steps to the bed if he doesn’t pause now. He doesn’t want this night to go wrong. He needs her to consent at the beginning, otherwise he’ll have no leverage over her, and she’ll be right back to her old ways in no time. “Come on,” he coaxes, pulling back and taking her hand in his. She’s so small, he remembers, as her fingers slip into his. “Let’s sit down for a little while, huh? C’mere.”

He walks her over to the couch, sitting her down between him and Steve. Steve’s turned the fireplace on, and he hands her the vodka cranberry, which she takes with a meek little ‘thank you’, head tucked down over her drink. Steve and Bucky’s eyes meet from over her shoulder, communicating silently, as they’ve become so adept at doing. Bucky told Steve that he might send him away tonight, if it looked like Lena couldn’t handle it. But so far, his presence seems to be helping her to stay calm, and that’s good. Bucky wants her relaxed. He wants her between them.

He sips from his own drink and curls his arm over her shoulder, and Steve leans close on her other side. Bucky reaches to touch her bandaged forearm. He trails a single finger over the ridiculous neon cheetah spots, connecting them on the way down to her wrist. “Does it hurt?” he asks, fully anticipating the shake of the head she gives him. He’d used numbing salve, and he knows from experience that ink as minor as hers doesn’t tend to hurt once bandaged. His own back is tight and uncomfortable. He’s still shirtless, and he knows he should’ve slathered himself with some of the ointment too, downstairs, but his attention is all on her. As it should be. If his own ink heals poorly, he’ll just have Natasha touch it up later. Bucky hums when she shyly admits that no, it doesn’t hurt. He sips his drink and watches her keenly. “Good,” he says, I don’t want you to hurt, only to feel good.”

Her little mouth pouts, brow wrinkled as she keeps her eyes lowered. Bucky reaches out to guide her chin up with a single finger underneath her jaw. “Hey,” he says softly. “You do understand why I had to do it, don’t you?” He tilts his head, waiting her out, and she looks embarrassed as she avoids his eyes and licks her lips. Bucky hums and pulls his hand back. She does understand, she just doesn’t want to say so. “You’re mine, Lena,” he tells her gently. “You always have been. Ever since that first time you let me in between your legs.”

Her eyes flick up to him, widened, and then narrowed. Her flush deepens and her lips part like maybe she’ll try and rebuff him. Steve, as well-timed as he is with these things, jumps in at just the right moment. “Hey, you like that?” he asks her, indicating the glass she’s holding. “Did I make it right?”

Lena nods, peeking over at him. “Yeah. It’s … it’s my favorite. … Thanks, Steve.”

He offers a soft smile and turns into her. “I always remember what you like best, honey.” The way he says it makes her fluster, her smile faltering from nerves. Bucky makes a gesture with his hand from where he’s got his arm around her waist, and Steve takes the cue and sidles closer, wrapping his arm over the back of the couch, right behind her shoulders. It puts the three of them even closer together than before, intent unmistakable.

Lena looks up at Steve, who is sipping his drink but keeping his eyes on her, and then she looks to Bucky, brows drawn together in worry. “Bucky …”

“It’s okay,” he soothes her, downing a gulp of his drink before setting it aside, expensive liquor be damned. He holds her closer, turned in, using his arm around her waist to keep her held against him. He reaches up and turns her uncertain face back towards him. “Hey, look at me. It’s okay. Steve just wants to be close with you. Like I do.” He lets their lips brush together and nudges her nose with his, affectionate. “He cares about you, y’know?”

Behind her, Steve’s hand has started sliding up over her thigh, petting her from over the silk of her dress. “Always have,” he murmurs.

She inhales and makes to turn her head, but Bucky holds her still. “Shh sh sh, hey, look at me, Lena.” She does, and he looks her in her drugged-up little eyes. “If you want him to go, just say so. He will.” He’s whispering at this point, and he leans in and kisses her softly on the mouth, taking his time, letting her feel the press of his lips until she moans very quietly. He pulls back, “But if you’re worried about what he’ll think of you and me, you shouldn’t.”

“Wha?”

Bucky smiles, glad that they used the aphrodisiac. If she was sober right now, he’s sure Lena would bolt. “Steve doesn’t care,” he tells her gently, petting the side of her face, stroking her hair. “He knows you’re my half-sister, and he doesn’t care.”

Lena whines and squirms, trying to hide her face in his palm. Behind her, Steve leans in and kneads her shoulder. “I’d like to stay, honey. Be with you and Bucky, if you’ll let me.”

Bucky gives her a tender, coaxing look. “What do you want, Princess? You just tell me. You want Steve to stay? He cares about you, you know. That’s why I told him about us. Told him a long time ago. And you know what he said? Know what he thought?” He tucks her hair behind her ear and whispers, “He said he could always tell, and he thought it was fucking hot.”

Lena whimpers, but he hushes the sound away. “No, sweetheart. Mm mn. He doesn’t care. Look at him. Look in his eyes. Go on.” He moves her gently, forcing her to turn her head to where Steve is waiting right there on the other side. Steve’s arm tightens behind her, his face in hers, eyes darkened. “Ask him,” Bucky prods, wanting to make her do it herself. He can only see the back of her head when she’s turned into Steve, but he stays close, tucked up behind her, pulling her hair back in one hand and stroking her skin. He kisses the back of her shoulder. “Ask him what he wants.”

“Steve?” her voice is quiet, shy, and Bucky’s lips curl against her skin when he can tell that Steve’s gently pulled her into a kiss.

They kiss for a long moment, slow, mouths making soft little sounds that make Bucky’s pulse quicken. Then Steve’s murmuring, “Want you to feel good, honey. You’re so beautiful, you know that? Just want to make you feel good and so safe.” He kisses her again, and Lena moans quietly.

Bucky watches them kiss, his dick straining against the seam of his pants as it hardens. This is the exact scenario he’s been fantasizing about for years, now. And now Lena’s right here, between them, softening against Steve’s coaxing advances just like Bucky’s always hoped she would. He presses up more fully against her back, joining them, one hand curling round her waist again. “Steve and I share a lot, sweet pea,” he tells her quietly, kissing across her neck and shoulder while Steve keeps softly making out with her. Bucky lets his hand slip down to her hip and inwards to her belly. He splays his fingers out wide and presses, getting another tiny moan out of her. “We’re close,” he whispers, kissing along her shoulder. “Closer than most friends are. You understand?” He waits a moment, then reaches around for Steve, cupping the side of his face while he’s still kissing Lena. Steve pulls back and meets his eyes, pupils blown, and Bucky feels his dick twitch at how dark his irises have gotten. “Show her,” he murmurs.

Steve sits there for a second more, breathing open mouthed and staring with lust-blown eyes, then he groans quietly and leans over Lena’s shoulder to kiss Bucky.

They make out for a moment, though it feels like longer, the hot and heavy press of their mouths harsher with each other than they’d been with Lena. Bucky drags his teeth against Steve’s lower lip as he pulls away, his hand still on Steve’s cheek. He guides him back to Lena, looking between them—Steve’s lax face and Lena’s shocked, aroused look. Bucky purrs, “Go on.”

When Lena looks to him again, unsure, he shushes her and promises, “It’s okay to want it, puppy. Steve and I want it. S’nothing wrong. Just the three of us. Steve and I want to make you feel good.” He kisses her neck again, while Steve takes hold of her face.

“You still gonna let us do that, sweetheart?” he asks her. “Mm?”

“I … ohn …”

Bucky peeks over her shoulder and sees Steve’s hand cupping her breast through the silk of her dress. Lena’s body presses into it instinctually, and Bucky groans at the sight. Fuck, he wants them all naked and on the bed together, now.

He growls quietly and pulls Lena back to him. Her lips look swollen from the kissing. Bucky maintains a good amount of scruff, verging on a short beard; and Steve, while usually clean shaven, is sporting a bit of stubble now that it’s so late at night. Lena’s chin is rubbed pink from both of them kissing her. The sight makes Bucky smile. He can’t wait to mess her up so badly. Steve ducks down to kiss her throat while he keeps feeling up her breasts, and Bucky goes up to whisper in her ear. “See? It’s nice, isn’t it? Does it feel good, puppy? Having two men’s hands on you at once?”

“Ohn … I, mmm.”

“Yeah? You like how it feels when he touches you there?” Bucky asks. In his arms, Lena nods and gives a breathy little ‘ah ha’. Bucky holds her back to him, both arms wrapping around her waist while Steve lavishes her with attention in front. He palms her breasts, sucks a hickey against her collarbone while he plucks at her nipples from over the silk. His hands wander all over her body, insatiable, over her thighs and waist, touching Bucky’s arms that are wrapped around her as he goes. Steve nuzzles at the side of her jaw and locks eyes with Bucky, lips parted. “She’s gorgeous,” he whispers, and Lena shivers between them. “Thank you.”

Bucky’s eyes gleam back at him, and he lets one of his hands slide down her belly again, down to the vee of her legs. He starts rubbing light circles there, slip-sliding over the fabric of her dress, and Lena’s breath catches. “Yeah,” Bucky murmurs to her, still staring at Steve. “You’re welcome, Stevie.”

Steve groans when he sees what Bucky’s doing. “Oh, honey,” he coos, talking to Lena while Bucky’s hand presses and rubs in delicate patterns over the front of her sex. Steve leans into her, presses their foreheads together. “Does that feel good? It does, doesn’t it?” he purrs, egging her and Bucky on at the same time. His hand lands on top of Bucky’s and rides the motion of his fingers, and Bucky groans quietly. “Look down, honey,” Steve whispers. “Look down at us touching you, please.”

She does, obeying Steve and looking at their hands molded to her mound. She makes a devastated little noise in her throat, hips jumping forward. Bucky chuckles lowly and circles the flats of his fingers right where he knows she needs it. “Is Steve right?” he asks, voice like gravel. “S’this feel so good, puppy? You like it when I rub like this, hm?”

She whines and refuses to answer, but the response of her body is more than enough. She can’t stop grinding forward against their hands. Bucky hums darkly and keeps rubbing, his chin hooked over her shoulder to watch his and Steve’s hands working together. Steve’s other hand is on her breast, thumb swiping back and forth over her tightly pebbled nipple from over the silk.

It makes Bucky ache so bad it almost hurts, to finally get to see his best friend, closest confidant and sometimes-lover touch their girl intimately for the first time. Their girl, Christ. Could he be that lucky? “Yeah,” Bucky breathes against her ear. “Yeah, you like it just like this. I remember. Tight little circles, right here, pushing down, workin’ the seam of your panties right over you clit. That’s what feels nice, huh princess?” He kisses her temple and works his hand a little firmer. “Are you soaking through ‘em yet?”

Lena moans louder than before and tosses her head, twisting in his arms, but Bucky hauls her in even harder against him, his one arm around her waist holding her still like an iron bar. “Stevie,” he says, “Feel her. Tell me.”

Lena cries out prettily when Steve’s hand sneaks between her legs and presses against her panties. He hums and chuckles, meeting Bucky’s eyes. “She’s soaked.”

Bucky purrs smugly against the side of Lena’s face, nuzzling her burning cheek. “See? Can’t hide from us, malyshka. I know. I know what you like, and you’d better believe I’m gonna teach Steve every little bit of it.” She squirms against him weakly, embarrassed, and that only gets him harder, makes him want it more. “Steve,” he says while he pets Lena’s hair to calm her. “Let’s move this to the bed.”

Steve’s eyes light up and he nods. He turns his attentions to Lena and Bucky lets her go so Steve can pull her up with him as he stands, holding her to his body and then scooping her up entirely when she stumbles on her feet. “Aw, come here, honey,” he murmurs into her hair, carrying her over to set her gently down on the bed.

Bucky picks up his tumbler and faces the fireplace as he finishes the expensive liquor inside before it can go too watery from the ice. He’s just drinking the last of it when he hears Steve murmuring gently from back by the bed,

“There you go. Let’s take this off. You’re okay, easy sweetheart.”

Bucky stands and goes over to them. Steve’s got Lena lying back on the mattress and is sitting there beside her, gently edging the straps of her dress over her shoulders. He’s taking his time, leaning down to pet her waist or kiss her sweetly whenever her nerves pick up and she looks like she’ll start making a fuss. “Shh, honey. It’s okay. You’re beautiful. Just want to see you.”

Bucky walks to the other side of the bed and makes quick work of his clothes. He keeps his briefs on purely as a matter of caution. Better to go slow, rather than rush things too fast and scare her. He climbs onto the mattress and meets Steve’s eyes, giving him a look that says he should do the same. Steve nods and pulls back to stand and undress.

Bucky takes the moment to pull Lena with him, back to sit against the headboard. He shushes her when she fusses, guiding her to relax back against him. Her dress, little more than a silk slip to begin with, slides down her body as they move, bearing her breasts. She squeaks and moves to pull it back up, but Bucky grabs her hands and tells her it's okay. “You heard Steve,” he murmurs against her skin. “We both think you’re fuckin’ gorgeous, sweet pea. No need to fuss about showing us your beautiful body.” He lets her hands go so that he can cup her breasts. Their soft weight in his hands makes him ache with another wave of yearning. God, he’s missed her so much.

“Bucky,” she breathes, turning her face into him. Her eyes are closed in shyness, making Bucky smile.

“It’s okay,” he coos. “We want you. We want you between us. Are you gonna be my sweet girl, hm? Gonna let us love you, sora mica?”

It’s a risky thing to say at this point in the game, calling her little sister right in front of Steve. She squirms back against him, upset but turned on and unable to hide it. Bucky smiles and wraps his arms around her fully, hugging her back against him. “Look at him,” he whispers into her ear, grin audible in his voice. “Isn’t he pretty?”

Lena stares at Steve, open mouthed and dazed. She makes a tiny little sound in the back of her throat—nerves and arousal both. Bucky nods with his face hooked over her shoulder. “Yeah, I know. Why do you think I fuck him?”

Lena tenses, then she turns her head to peek at him. Bucky grins, because he can see how she finds it hot. “You like that?” he laughs, kissing her cheek. “Mm hm. Thought you might.” Deviously, he holds her breast and tweaks her nipple, murmuring, “I remember your Pornhub playlists, puppy. I know you like to watch two men fucking.”

She squirms and whines and tosses her head, but it’s only in embarrassment and not to get away from him, and besides, Bucky loves a bit of a struggle from his girl. He just laughs and hauls her in against his body. “Oh, calm down,” he scolds her. “You’re supposed to be a grown woman. You can admit when something turns you on.”

She huffs and fights him another second, but stills when Steve climbs up onto the bed to join them. He’s in nothing but his boxer briefs, and Bucky hums at the sight of him. Steve’s got a gorgeous body. Bucky’s never considered himself bisexual, but Steve has been his one exception. Bucky’s always wanted him. “Help our girl out,” he tells him. “She’s overdressed.”

Steve smiles and crawls over, taking a moment to cradle Lena’s face and kiss her before pulling back. He gently edges her dress down over her hips and legs, tossing it aside. He pushes her legs apart and lies down between them, face right at her panties. Bucky feels his cock harden even further at the sight of Steve running his hands over her thighs, thumbs running along the edge of her panties. Bucky groans and Steve’s eyes twinkle up at them.

“Relax, hon,” he tells Lena. “Lie back against your brother. Let him hold you.”

Lena’s breath catches at how openly he just says it, and Bucky smirks down at Steve in approval. Steve knows the game they’re playing, the delicate balance of keeping her calm and riling her up. “See?” Bucky says against the shell of her ear. “I told you: he’s into it. You don’t have to be shy.”

“Steve,” she breathes, “I …”

“You want this?” he asks, staring up at her with dark eyes as he pulls her panties down slowly. “Gonna let me taste you, honey?”

She lifts her hips for him without thought, and Steve grins and pulls her panties all the way off, tossing them aside. “Good girl,” he praises, settling down between her legs again. His focus shifts down, and he groans at the sight of her. “Oh, sweetheart …”

Bucky chuckles lowly and watches Steve getting his very first look. “I know, right?” Lena whines between them and Bucky slides his hand up to cover her mouth, muffling her cries. “Shh, Lena. The grownups are talking.”

Below, Steve snickers, his hands pushing Lena’s thighs further apart as he stares. “Fuck, Buck.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier pussy,” Steve breathes, his mouth only inches from her core. He frames her with his hands, using his thumbs to gently explore her folds. “God, Lena.” He talks to her without looking away from where he’s touching. “You’re perfect.”

Under Bucky’s palm, she makes little noises of embarrassment, “Mmn, hmmhh …”

Bucky chuckles and pulls her hard against him. “Stop fighting it, puppy,” he teases, licking a hot swipe up her neck. He feels her resultant shiver. “You’re going to love it. We’re gonna make you feel so good. You just have to give into it.” He kisses her skin. “I’m gonna take my hand away now, and you’re going to admit that this feels good, you hear me?” He puts a little sternness into his voice, because he knows from experience that she responds well to it. He brings his hand from her mouth, down to her neck, giving a little squeeze. “Tell us,” he says. “C’mon. I don’t want to hear you lying to me now, girl.”

“Bucky,” she pants, voice wrecked. The aphrodisiacs are doing their job. “I … I want …”

“What?” Steve asks, looking up at her. He kisses her inner thigh, right next to her sex, and she moans. “What do you want, honey? Want me to touch you?” He lets his thumb trail over her, softly moving over the hood of her clit. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty, Lena. These pretty pink folds? Fuck, I’ve never seen such a juicy pussy.”

Lena moans, and Bucky knows they’ve got her now, she’s not going to fight them anymore. He drags his teeth over her neck and murmurs, “Tell him how you like it, puppy. Go on.” When she doesn’t say anything, just lies there panting and squirming, whining for his touch, Bucky chuckles and kisses her. “That’s alright, sweet pea. I can tell him.” He locks eyes with Steve and feels his belly clench at what they finally have between them, now. They’ve talked about it for so long, and now it’s finally happening. Bucky tightens his hand on Lena’s neck, giving her just enough pressure to restrict her breathing the tiniest bit. “I know all your kinks, don’t I?” he purrs, and she whines and nods, panting,

“Bucky, fuck, please …”

“There’s my girl,” he praises. He looks down at Steve. “Rub her like you were doing, just barely touching her clit, just lightly now. Our girl’s sensitive, ain’t that right, puppy?”

Lena nods, chin bumping his hand.

Steve follows Bucky’s every direction, gently circling his thumb over her clit, trailing just the tip of his finger through her folds, smearing her wetness all over. “So wet,” he breathes. Carefully, looking up to watch Lena’s face as he does it, he presses his finger into her while still rubbing her clit. Lena moans the prettiest little sound. “Yeah?” Steve asks, looking up at her. “That feel nice, honey?” He fucks her gently on just that one finger, curling it to get at the soft spot inside. He lowers his face and laps at her clit while his thumb keeps working it from above.

“There you go,” Bucky murmurs. “Just like that. That’s how she likes it.” He kisses Lena’s neck and uses his other hand to palm and pluck at her breast. “Work her clit and fuck her on your fingers—give her another, two, yeah. Curl ‘em and just keep working her real gentle just like that. She’ll cum that way.”

Steve listens and does exactly as Bucky says, keeping his hand rocking in her slow and steady, his other hand spread out over her belly, pushing down, thumb flicking softly back and forth on her clit while he laves gently over her lips. Sure enough, Lena’s breath quickens, her body growing taught, then shaking, trembling as she gets close. “Oh … nnn, ughn … ohplease, oh.”

“There you go, little one, just let it out now, let it happen.” Bucky coaxes her through it, holding her tightly as she jerks and cries out in pleasure. Below, Steve groans and nods his face against her as he feels her body ripple around his fingers, and Bucky growls. “Theere you go, oh, good girl.”

“Fuck,” Steve exhales, looking up at Bucky with wet lips. “She’s creamin’ all over my hand, fuck.”

“Show me.” Bucky grinds his hips forward against Lena’s backside for a little bit of relief, and when Steve gets up to him and presents his hand, Bucky groans at the smell of her on his fingers. He opens his mouth for a taste, staring at Steve, and sucks her juices straight off his fingers.

Steve’s eyes blacken and he curses. He pulls his hand back and checks on Lena. “You okay honey?” he asks, holding her face and giving her a kiss. “Feel good?”

“Mm. Mm hm.” She’s still got her eyes closed from the orgasm, and slowly, she opens them. Steve smiles down at her. She sighs and smiles, too. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, hon. You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

“You should show Steve some attention,” Bucky murmurs in her ear. “Here, lie down. C’mon. Steve, get on your back.” He moves them so that Lena is lying on her side alongside Steve. She’s at the level of his hip, and Bucky lies behind her and guides her hand to the front of Steve’s underwear. “Touch him,” he coaxes, curling her fingers with his own over the line of his erection. “There you go. Come on now, princess, I know you know how to do this part. Make Steve feel good while I fuck you, okay?”

Lena’s gone on the drugs and on her own arousal, inhibitions nowhere to be seen as she turns into Steve to kiss his abs and rub her cheek against his lower belly, nosing at the trail of hair that leads down into his underwear. She curls her hand from over the fabric and squeezes. Tentatively, she edges down the waistband. “Oh,” she whispers, sounding surprised when she gets him uncovered and he kicks his underwear off for her. Bucky watches and hurriedly strips his off as well, crowding back in behind her.

“You like that, honey?” Steve rumbles from above, grabbing at his balls and giving them a tug. “Go on. You can touch me.”

She does, taking Steve’s heavy cock in her hand and closing her fingers around him. He’s just as hard as Bucky is, if not more. Bucky didn’t miss how he’d been grinding on the mattress when he had his face buried between Lena’s legs.

While she slowly gains confidence stroking him, Bucky curls up behind her and plays along her folds from behind, gathering her slick on his fingers and trailing them back to her tight little furl. She inhales sharply in surprise when he starts rubbing her there, applying gentle circles of pressure, gradually, until his finger slips in.

“Ah,”

“Shh.” He kisses her shoulder blade, hushing her. “S’okay, little one. You’ve taken me back here before. It’s just one right now, you feel? S’just my finger.” She relaxes incrementally as he fucks her on his hand, one finger and then two in her ass, just giving her shallow little thrusts that get her used to the feeling and help her loosen up. He rubs his thumb along her taint and lets it dip teasingly into her cunt with the motion of his hand. “Touch yourself,” he whispers. “Go on, malyshka. Be a good girl now and rub on your pussy while you make Steve feel good.”

She whimpers, but after a second he can feel her obeying, squirming to get her free hand down between her legs to touch herself. Bucky hums, pleased, and returns to prepping her asshole. “You know, sweet pea,” he whispers, speaking against the bend of her neck. “You should put him in your mouth.” He kisses her neck and gives a tiny little nip. “He made you feel good with his mouth, didn’t he? You should do the same. Come on. Just the tip, baby girl. Just let him feel your sweet, wet mouth sucking on the head. Give ‘im a taste.” He turns his fingers in her ass, scissoring them apart to stretch her rim.

“Hnngh.”

“Your mouth,” Bucky reminds softly. “Give him your mouth, puppy.”

Lena’s adorable and beautiful when she gets like this, all trembles and nonverbal squeaks and whines, like a dumb little doll once you really get her worked up, and Bucky’s always gone nuts for the way she looks like an absolute fuck doll when she’s got her mouth full of cock.

Steve must think the same, because he groans from above and stares down at her, his hands coming down to rest on her head as she slurps him in. “Shit, baby, yeah. Fuck.”

Bucky hums lowly. “Careful now, Stevie. She can’t take too much. Jus’ let her play.”

Steve grunts and nods, looking pained. But he holds still and lets Lena explore at her own pace. Bucky smirks and goes back to work behind her. He reaches behind himself to the edge of the mattress, finding the lube. He brings it back and coats his fingers good before returning them to her ass. He takes his time, enjoying the wet sounds of Lena’s mouth sucking Steve, while he wets his fingers up and massages her tight little hole, coaxing her open and stuffing lube inside, coming back again and again for more. He plays with her until she’s good and loose, her body finally giving way to the intrusion of two fingers and losing that instinctive reaction as the muscle gives in. “Theere it is,” he murmurs, giving her a third finger for a few moments just to be sure. Lena whines with her mouth full of cock and Bucky scrapes his teeth over her neck. “You still touchin’ yourself, puppy?”

“Mmm, mmph hmm.”

“Good girl. I’m gonna push inside now.”

She whines around Steve’s cock, and while Bucky lines himself up, Steve hushes her, whispering, “Shhh, Lena. You can take it. I know you can. He told me, you know that? Told me how tight you are back there, how good you take him.” Lena squeals and moans at his words, but Steve keeps his hands clamped on the back of her neck and her shoulder, not letting up. “Go on, Buck,” he pants. “Take her.”

It’s such a fucking tight squeeze, but Bucky takes his time and waits her out, pushing, and when his cockhead finally slips inside, it gets easier from there. He waits, knowing his girl’s body well. She needs to settle, adjust to the intrusion before it can start feeling good for her. So he holds still and pets her hip while she chokes and cries out at the intrusion. Steve’s cock slips from her mouth and she gasps, “Ahhn! ohnn…” Poor thing, she’s so overwhelmed.

Bucky slips his hand around where she’s forgotten about touching herself. He knocks her hand out of the way and takes over, rubbing tight circles down over her clit and whispering filth into her hear. “Fuck, baby, you lettin’ daddy in? Yeah you are, so good, sweetie pie. Doing so good for me. You’re my good little girl.” In front of him, Lena sobs, and he can tell from the sound of it that it’s in humiliated pleasure. He groans and slides his way in, pushing until he’s buried to the hilt, hips against her ass. “Fuuck,” he hisses, holding still to calm himself down. He doesn’t want this to be over yet. He’s not done with her. He rubs her clit and purrs in her ear, “How’s that feel, huh? S’it a lot? Shh sh sh I know, I know. But you’re so good to let daddy have this, little girl. Feels so fucking good inside your tight little ass, you’ve got no idea.”

She shivers and cries, hips jumping, panting open mouthed against Steve’s stomach when Bucky pinches her clit and rubs it just so. “Ohgn! Bucky…”

“Steve,” he grunts. “Get down here.”

Steve’s there in a second, sliding down in the bed and pressing up against Lena’s front, sandwiching her between their bodies. “Hey darlin’,” he whispers, holding her face and keeping her attention. “You’re so pretty,” he tells her, kissing her to keep her distracted.

“Touch her,” Bucky breathes. “Get her ready.”

Steve does, rubbing her clit and teasing along her folds before slipping inside of her with two fingers. She groans long and low at the added stretch. “Shh,” Steve hushes gently, curling his fingers. “You’re okay.”

“Fuck, I can feel your fucking fingers,” Bucky gasps. “Unnh.”

In front, Steve gets Lena to open up for him, dipping into her mouth with his tongue and kissing her to keep her calm. “Hey, honey. I want to fuck you, too. You think you can try for me? Let me slip inside with your brother?” He says it on purpose, Bucky suspects, just to let her know again that he’s not judging her, that he likes how wrong it is, just like they do. She squeals and jerks in their arms when he says it, but they easily still her struggles. “Shhh, Lena. It’s okay. I want you,” Steve promises, holding her still. “I want both of you.” He rocks his hips forward, letting his dick slide against her folds, the head bumping Bucky’s balls.

“Nooo,” Lena moans, “I can’t, please, I can’t.”

“You can take it, puppy,” Bucky coos, knowing that they’ll have to force it, if they want to find out if she can take them both. She’s too nervous. “Steve,” he says tightly. “Just do it. Go slow.”

Lena cries out and tries to fight them, but she’s so small and weak, easy to maneuver and hold still. Steve goes to his back and pulls her on top of him, and with Bucky pressing her down from behind, she doesn’t stand a chance. Steve wraps his arm around her back like a steel band and uses his other hand to guide himself into her pussy. “Holy shhh—” he hisses, going silent as he slips inside.

“Oh my fucking god,” Bucky breathes, eyes slamming shut at the pressure, at the feeling of Steve’s cock through her walls. “Oh, Steve, oh fuck.”

Between them, Lena sobs, overwhelmed, and Bucky readjusts himself, trying to take some of his weight off her. “Hold still Steve,” he orders. “Don’t move. Give her a minute.” He gets to his knees behind her and helps Steve hold her down against his chest. Steve’s one hand has gone up and clamped behind her neck, and he’s whispering little platitudes against her forehead. “Shh sh sh, it’s okay, just relax honey, relax.”

Bucky groans. It’s so much. He can feel Steve’s dick right there, like there’s nothing separating them. It’s enough to get his balls tightening. “Fuck Stevie,” he huffs, both hands planted on Lena’s back to keep her down. “Fuck, we’re … we’re actually …”

“Yeah,” he gasps, sounding just as amazed as Bucky feels. “I can feel you.”

“Fuck, me too. Me too.” They’ve talked about it so many times, and now they’re actually doing it, both inside her at the same time. It’s so hot, it makes Bucky feel dizzy. He has to hold still, too, or else he’s going to bust his nut right then and there. “Shit,” he whispers, body trembling as he tries to control his breathing, “Shhiiit.”

Between them, Lena’s cries have calmed down to groans, and she wiggles her hips in a way that has the both of them gripping her harder. “Ohnn,” she whines. “Ss-steve, oh, it’s…”

“I know honey, I know. You okay?” Steve checks, petting her side and guiding her face up to get a look at her. Bucky catches the little smile he gives her, and he feels the shiver that rolls through Lena’s body in response. She’s calming down, thank God. “Yeah?” Steve asks, sounding encouraged. “Y’feel full, honey? Takin’ both our cocks at the same time?” Lena whines, aroused, and Steve’s eyes go molten hot.

Bucky watches as the two of them make out. He strokes Lena’s back and slips a hand down under her belly. Steve’s pubic hair tickles his fingers as he finds her clit and strokes it. “Oh,” Bucky sighs, smiling in relief at when he finds. “You’re soaked, babygirl.” Carefully, still stimulating her with his hand, he lets his hips pull back the barest bit, then eases back in. It hardly even counts as a real thrust, but it makes Lena sob against Steve’s mouth and grind forward against Bucky’s fingers. “There you go, sweetheart.” He gives her another, and another. “There you go.”

“Holy shit,” Steve whispers.

“Mm hm. She’s taking us just right. Fuckin’ knew it. She’s made for us,” Bucky praises, grunting as her body takes the short, slow thrusts he gives her. “She’s fuckin milking my dick, Steve.”

“Me too.”

Bucky eases up his grip on her, kneeling back and stroking his hands down her back. He pumps his hips shallowly and murmurs, “Grind a little, sweet pea. Grind your clit down on Steve.”

Lena whines, sounding mortified, but after a second she does, rubbing herself off against Steve’s pubic bone. Steve groans at the way it works his cock inside her, the way her walls flutter around him as she starts to feel good. His hands grip her at the waist, fingers digging into her soft curves. “Oh, baby, baby,” he pants, one hand sliding up her back and into her hair, holding her close. “Yeah, does that feel nice? Feel nice bein’ all full and grinding on my cock?”

Lena sobs and nods, working her hips a little harder as she squeezes them both. “Oh god, oh fuck,” she moans. Her hands are grabbing at Steve’s shoulders and she turns her head to the side on his chest. “Nnn, Bucky,” she cries, watery eyes opening and searching him out.

Bucky’s belly flips and he bends over her, kissing at her slack mouth. “Hey Beautiful. M’right here, little one, right here.”

“Daddy,” she sobs.

Bucky’s gits twist with arousal and something deeper, something darker. “Shh,” he soothes. “It’s okay. S’it feel good?” She moans miserably and nods, hips still moving between them, working their cocks inside the way she needs, her insides fluttering as she gets close. “Aw, are you gonna cum?” Bucky coos, a tinge of mocking in his voice, just the way he knows helps her get there. “You like getting your holes stuffed, baby? Daddy fucking your ass and Stevie in your cunt? Need to be fucked that much, greedy girl?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she cries, and Bucky’s not sure if she’s saying it about running away, or if she’s just so overwhelmed and humiliated at her own perverse desires. Probably the latter. She can get that way, sometimes, sobbing and apologizing while she comes on Bucky’s cock, calling him daddy while she falls apart.

Bucky kisses her mouth, sloppy, and rocks his hips against her ass as she starts to come. It’s unmistakable, not only in the clench of her body, but in the filthy sounds her cunt makes as she squirts and all three of them get soaked by it. Steve and Bucky both groan loudly as it happens, their bodies squelching and clapping wetly as their skin hits hers.

“Fuck,” Steve curses, hips fucking up into her without control.

Bucky laughs breathlessly, then groans at the friction of their cocks working inside at the same time. “Oh yeah,” he pants, right in Lena’s face and against Steve’s chest. “Didn’t I tell you she’s a squirter? Ughnn …” He fucks into her one last time as his balls draw up and the tight coil of arousal that’s been building and building in his core bursts. He groans and rocks against her ass as he rides it out. “Fuuuck…” He turns his head, beard scraping over Steve’s pec and up to his shoulder. He’s still thrumming in the aftershocks, his balls fucking ache, and he closes his mouth over Steve’s neck, tasting the salt in his sweat. “C’mon, Steve,” he pants, “cum inside her, fill her pussy up all sloppy. She loves that.”

Lena cries out in protest, but Bucky just gives her a hard thrust with his softening dick. “Shut up, puppy. I know what you like.” He’s slipping out of her a second later, not completely soft but too sensitive to stay inside when Steve’s still buried in her cunt. He kneels back and watches Steve’s cock driving in and out of her body. He groans at the sight. “Shit, Steve. You close?”

“Nnngh.”

Bucky laughs, breathless. He reaches down and cups Steve’s balls, curling his fingers sharply up behind them, grinding in against his taint. Steve shouts and his hips jerk up as he starts to come—it’s unmistakable. Bucky growls possessively and slips his hand back to Lena’s ass, slipping her his thumb and making her squeal. “Take it, Princess,” he growls. “You just had a hell of a lot more shoved up this filthy hole. Now take it.”

She cries out, and Bucky can tell from the way she’s moving her hips that she’s trying for another orgasm. Between his legs, his dick gives a tired little pulse, like it wishes it could shove right back up in there. Bucky fucks her and tugs on her rim with his thumb until Steve is spent, then he’s bending over Lena and gathering her in his arms, pulling her back up to kneeling with him, Steve’s cock slipped from her body and lying in a puddle of his cum and her squirt all over his belly.

Bucky growls, grips her throat hard in one hand to hold her against him, and shoves his other hand between her legs. “Look at that filthy fuckin’ mess you made, moya shlyuka,” he rasps right in her ear. “You like it that fucking much, huh?” He’s being mean now, and his fingers are too, as he hooks them in her cunt and tugs, over and over, rocking, getting her right where she needs, the heel of his palm bumping her clit with every motion. “Come on,” he pants, arm straining, working against her hard. “Give Stevie a show now. Show him what a messy fucking cunt you have.”

Lena wails and tenses, right on the edge. “Nnn!!”

“Squirt,” Bucky growls, rocking her whole body with the force of his hand, squeezing her throat. “Fuckin’ give it to me.” He feels her tip over the edge, her insides clamping down against his fingers a split second before she starts squirting. He immediately pulls his hand out and rubs furiously over her folds, making her spray everywhere. “Fu-huck,” he laughs, panting. “Yees. Look at that. There you go baby. There you go.”

Below them, Steve looks like he’d like to come again right then and there, his lips parted and eyes glued to the release she’s gotten all over his groin and belly. “Holy shit,” he breathes, chest heaving from his orgasm. “Oh, fuck.”

Lena squeals when it becomes too much, and Bucky eases off, keeping his hand at her neck and wrapping his arm around her waist in a fierce hug. “Such a good girl,” he praises, all the meanness gone from his voice, replaced with tenderness. “Good, good girl.”

She sobs and slumps against him, and he holds her to his body, sitting back on his heels. “Shhh, you’re okay. Did that feel so good, sweetheart? Aw, I know, I know. It’s a lot. You came so hard, huh?” He eases her down with him, spooning up behind her and petting over her heaving, shuddering sides. “It’s over. We’re all done. So good babygirl.”

Steve turns into her from the front, wrapping her up in his arms as well. One of his hands splays out over Bucky’s back, right over his fresh ink, and Bucky opens his eyes and meets Steve’s gaze from over Lena’s head. They share a shaky smile at what they’ve just shared.

“Told you,” Bucky says, licking his lips. He squeezes Lena’s waist and presses them all closer together. “She’s ours. Yours and mine. Made for us.”

“Yeah.” Steve dips down to cup Lena’s face and kiss her. He whispers praise against her lips, telling her how good she is, how pretty, how sexy. Bucky smiles and stretches, groaning at the twinge of pain when his raw skin pulls. He relaxes and buries his face in Lena’s hair while Steve kisses her overwhelmed tears away, telling her he loves her. Bucky hums, hoping that it’s true. If it’s not, it will be soon. He can just tell. Steve and he share such a close bond, and Lena’s always been irresistible, drawing Steve’s gaze even back before Bucky ever told him about their dirty secret.

Yes, he thinks happily. The three of them are going to have something very deep between them. Even now, having shared their forbidden relationship with Steve, they’ve connected on a deeper level. Bucky feels more sated than he has in a long time, his heart at ease now that he’s got his little one back where she belongs, and Steve right there with him, sharing in it. It’s perfect.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers, hugging Lena close, his spent dick snugged up against her ass and his back vaguely stinging. Steve’s low voice murmurs only inches away, sweet and tender reassurances for their girl.

Their girl.

Bucky closes his eyes and kisses the back of her sweaty neck, murmuring Sora Mica at her, over and over, putting it out in the open. They don’t have to hide it anymore. Now they can openly revel in what they share, and they can share it with Steve. Bucky smiles, exhausted, sated, elated. They’ve been at odds for so long, the Princess and the Dragon, fucking and fighting. Now they’ve finally found their missing piece, the balm for all their hurts, their white knight.

This is the beginning of them.

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