#mobster!bucky x black!oc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sheeple · 3 years

Text

Wrong turn

PHOTO NOT MINE. THIS IS ALL FICTION. Genre(s): Mobster!au / university!au / x OFC (Lex Seijters) Fandom(s): MCU Pairing(s): Mob!Bucky Barnes x Dutch!OFC (can be read is fem!y/n) Summary: In which a stubborn girl learns that sometimes it’s better to walk around a block, even if it’s ten minutes longer. Warning(s): If you have trouble with a Dutch OC... I'm sorry? / stalking / kidnapping / drugging / violence / what do want more from a mob!au? / THIS IS A LONG ASS BITCH 15.5K WORDS, BEWARE! A/n: Everything written in italic is said in Dutch [Masterlist] [Moodboard]

I look down at my phone, a frown on my face as the red line my friend Claire has drawn on a map. "Are you sure this is the way to go?", I turn towards her, my bike in her hands, "because if we go through this alley, we cut off ten minutes."

Claire shakes her head. "No! Do you even know where we are?", she hisses.

"Brooklyn?", I question, dropping my brows even lower at Claire's stupid question. Of course, I know where we are. I do know how to read a map even though my topography isn’t the best.

"Yes! Brooklyn exactly! It's run by the mob!"

I snort. "Sure, Claire. And we're in the Godfather. If you want to spend walking ten minutes extra, be my guest, but I'm walking through here." With a roll of my eyes, I start to walk towards the ally, my steps determent.

Claire cruses loudly. She grabs the bike and runs after me, clinging to my sleeve. "If something happens, I am mute and you don't know English."

A laugh escapes my lips. What a classic thing to do if someone unwantedly approaches you.

We walk through the ally and at the end, I see a couple of black cars, men standing around them. Some are smoking, some chewing on toothpicks. Claire looks up at me scared and I slightly shake my head, telling her to just continue walking.

Suddenly, a hand grabs my shoulder and spins me around, making Claire let go of my hand and dropping the bike. I grimace at the sounds of the bell hitting the pavement.

I look up at the person, a man, who has turned me around. He has his hair tied in a low bun in the back of his neck, a couple of loose strands in his ice-blue eyes.

"Are you lost, little one?" His voice is smooth and deep.

I do my best not to gag at the stupid nickname and look neutrally up at him, as I hold by the bit that Claire's mute and I don't speak English.

"You deaf or something? I asked you a question", the guy asks irritated, and I see a couple of guys who previously leaned on the cars, take steps closer to us.

I cock my head to the side, knitting my eyebrows together I say, "Claire, pick up the bike, please." I sign with my eyes for her to the bike, and Claire luckily understands what I mean and grabs the bike in her trembling hands.

The man frowns, his eyes holding the unasked question of what language I am speaking. "Do you even speak English?"

I look over my shoulder towards the end of the alleyway in the hope the guy understands what I mean. "I no English." I cake my accent extra thickly, selling it. Better to overdo it then being called out fake.

While giving the guy a sickly sweet smile, I grab Claire's hand and drag her towards the exit of the alley. I throw every now and then a smile at one of the other guys.

Once we are far enough, Claire lets out a breath of relief. "I told you something would happen! Do you even know what that was?", she questions me shocked, her hands shaking.

I shrug. "I don't know? Some guy who thinks he's everything?" I take my phone out of my pocket to check the time. "Great, I told you we would save ten minutes. The metro station is at the end of this street."

Claire groans loudly. "Lex, please! That was Mr Barnes, he owns Brooklyn!"

As I grab my bike, I snort. "Sure, Brooklyn is run by the mob. You've seen too many movies. Now, hop on because if we stay old-hookering here, we will miss our metro." I roll my eyes, getting on the bike.

She gets on the luggage rack and wraps her arms around my middle. "What does that even mean?"

"Old-hookering? It's a saying that you talk as much as a prostitute of age. Mostly nonsense."

Claire shakes her head. "You Dutch people and your weird sayings."

As the two girls bike away, Bucky leans against the wall of the alley, his eyes on the one who spoke to him.

"Who doesn't speak English?", he mumbles under his breath as he grabs a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it. "You're in America, for Pete's sake. Hey Barton", he calls out over his shoulder, Barton turning his attention to his boss. "Find out who that girl was. Name, school, where she's from, where she works. Everything."

Barton nods, grabbing his phone out of his pocket and making a few calls.

Bucky laughs to himself, blowing out a huff of smoke. Who doesn't speak English in America?

"Hi, Gladace, sorry I'm a bit late!", I yell as I rush towards the back of the flower shop, already wrestling my jacket off.

Gladace is a middle-aged mother of three with grey streaks in her hair that owns a cute flower shop. It has cottage core vibes with a dash of light academia. Claire actually got me this job, as Gladace is her aunt.

The older woman smile towards me as I tie my apron. "Don't worry, child, it's only ten minutes."

I quickly tie my hair back into a high ponytail, tucking loose strands behind my ears. "Great. Because Claire and I took the wrong metro and ended up in Vinegar Hill. We had to take the bus back."

Filling a watering can, I make my way to the front of the store to check if the flowers have enough water in the buckets. "Did we get any orders for today?", I ask over my shoulder, not noticing that Gladace has followed after me.

"Vine... Vinegar Hill?! Lex that's really a dangerous area! Many sketchy figures roam there." Gladace frown deeply, a worried look on her face.

I groan internally. Not her too. "Nothing happened, don't worry. We were stopped by some rando but we used the classic mute-and-not-understanding-English trick." I shrug my shoulders, blowing a stay hair out of my face.

As I turn around, I notice that Gladace looks really uncomfortable. I lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Hey, everything's okay. I really thickened my accent when I told him I didn't speak English."

"Who comes to America and doesn't speak English?" Gladace shakes her head, collecting flowers for a bouquet.

"I could be a tourist, who knows. Which flowers do you need?"

"Just white roses. And black wrapping paper." She holds her hand out and I give her a handful of roses, careful that we don't hurt ourselves on the thorns. "Just... promise me to be more careful next time something like that happens."

Gladace looks at me worried and I nod. No matter how idiotic I think it is, the look in her eyes is real.

It's been a couple of weeks since the whole alleyway incident and I haven't seen any of the guys since then. I often do have the feeling that I am followed, but that's ridiculous.

I am currently sitting in the back of a cafe studying because that has to happen too. I have to maintain my grades high if I want to keep my scholarship at NYU.

Claire had to quickly run to her apartment to grab her charger so now I am sitting here alone, vibing with the music of the cafe and sipping on my ice coffee.

The chair in front of me scrapes back, Claire sits down with a sigh.

"So, I take that you're not kidnapped", I tease with a playful smile, looking up from my notebook.

But it's not Claire sitting in front of me rolling her eyes, but the guy from the alleyway, the one who stopped me. Great, he's a stalker.

"I thought you didn't speak English, sweetpea?", the guy says with a smirk, his eyes twinkling dangerously.

I lean back in my chair, closing my notebook with a huff. Does he always use stupid nicknames? "I do not", I answer simply in English, a challenge in my eyes.

The guy laughs. "Here I thought I had to buy a dictionary to talk to you." He folds his arms over each other in front of his chest, his face amused.

"I still don't speak English", I continue, far too amused with annoying this one guy. "What do you even want?"

The guy reaches over and grabs my ice coffee, talking the straw in his mouth as he holds eye contact with me. "Dunno. Walked by, saw you sitting here all alone and thought why not keep you company." His smirk is lopsided and boy-ish, an open challenge to me.

"Well", I begin, snatching the glass out of his hand, "my friend can come back any second, so I don't need you to keep me company." I open my notebook again and go over this day's notes. "Goodbye now."

The guy lets out a surprised chuckle as I wave him away. But, he stands up from the chair, throwing something on the table and walking out of the cafe, his hands in his pockets.

I try not to immediately look for what he has dropped, but curiosity kills the cat, and I grab the thing.

A business card. It's white with black lettering... no, dark blue. Very sleek, very classy. I have to give him some credits, it looks nice. Bucky Barnes, it reads on the front, a single line under the name. The back is completely dark blue with white letters. A phone number and email.

"What's that?", asks Claire as she wheezes from running three blocks from and to. She plops down the chair, taking the business card out of my hands.

I scratch the back of my head. "Ehrm... he came by", I say as nonchalantly as I can.

Claire lets out a shriek ─ earning weird looks from the people around us ─ dropping the card on the table as if it had burned her.

With a roll of my eyes, I grab the card and put it behind my phone case. "Don't be so dramatic, Claire. It's just a business card."

She looks at me dumbfounded. "Just a business card?! Jesus Christ, Lex! A mobster gave you his business card and you're acting like it's nothing big."

I slam my laptop shut. "Look at the thing, Claire, it looks like just a business card. He may just own a business." With a roll of my eyes, I take a sip of my ice coffee. A grimace forms on my face as I remember that the guy ─ or Bucky as I suppose have to call him now ─ also took a sip of my drink.

She sighs. "Fine. But can we please go? I don't feel comfortable that Mr Barnes knows where we are. He could be on the top of a roof with a sniper rifle keeping us in his eye." She looks around with big eyes while slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

I just roll my eyes and put everything in my bag, waving goodbye to the barista as we walk out of the cafe.

"So, what now?", I ask, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my jacket as we walk outside. It's a nice day in May, the sun shines brightly and there is a pleasant breeze.

Bucky watches the two girls walk out of the cafe from his car, his eyes focussed on the tallest. He opens the file Barton give him. Alexia Seijters, but she goes by Lex for short, twenty-five years old and from The Netherlands. She studies digital design at NYU on a scholarship.

Next to her friend is Lex quite tall, taller than most of the girls around her. Also, her attitude is different towards him than other people. She's sassy, acts like she doesn't speak English while she clearly is fluent, and a playful look in her eyes.

Most people look down when he passes, cowering in their seats when he sits in front of them, obeying his every word. But she... She's a challenge. And Bucky likes a challenge.

He grabs his phone out of the inner pocket of his jacked, activating the tracker he put in the business card. What? He is part of the mob, what did you expect?

Someone knocks on the car window, and Bucky lowers the glass. "Here's the book you wanted, pal." Steve smiles as he hands Bucky the English to Dutch dictionary.

Bucky takes the book from Steve's hands, a smirk on his face. "Thanks, punk."

I sit slumped behind my laptop, listening to how my professor goes on and on about the theory of colour. My head is propped in my hand so I don't nod off to sleep.

My eyes travel involuntarily towards the business card behind my phone case. A huff leaves my lips as I take it out. It's not like I already know what the professor is explaining.

I tap the card on the desk and a smirk forms on my face as I get an idea. Grabbing a red pen, I cross through Bucky and write Bonky above it. I snicker to myself, admiring my work.

While I'm at it, I open Illustrator and create a new file. Within ten minutes, I have three new concepts based on the already existing colours of dark blue, cream, and white. I send the file and some png's to my phone through the mail just in case I ever see Backy again.

Which is the next day. At my job.

It's a Saturday afternoon and business has been weirdly slow today so I am just standing behind the counter, leaning against it with my hip jutted out and my phone in my hands, texting with my friends from back home who are preparing to go out clubbing.

The bell above the door rings. I quickly put my phone in the pocket of my apron, putting on a smile. "Hi, how can I help you?"

I turn towards the person who has entered the flower shop and my smile falls as I see it's Bucky.

"You still don't know English, peaches?", he taunts with a sly smirk on his face, his arms behind his back.

Not even acknowledging the stupid nickname, I grimace. "That's a no, I'm afraid."

Bucky pulls a book from behind his back and starts to flip through it. "How it goes?" The words leave his lips as he looks up at me triumphantly.

A snort leaves my lips and I clasp a hand over my mouth. "It's how are you? How it goes?", I whisper the last part under my breath with a smile, shaking my head.

"So, are you stalking me or something?", I question with a cock of my head. Folding my arms over each other, I take a defensive stance.

"I was walking by, saw you standing here all alone and thought why not keep you company. You looked bored." Bucky looks smug as he practically uses the same stupid excuse he used in the cafe.

I roll my eyes. "Sure. But listen, there's something really wrong with your business card, dude." I pull my phone out of my back pocket and swipe the business card from behind my phone case.

Bucky coughs nervously. "There is?"

"Seriously, who designed this monstrosity? Minion Pro? That's the fucking default of InDesign. You could have used Comic Sans to get the same message through." I slide the card towards him over the counter, pointing out the font.

He grabs the card and frowns. "Did you seriously cross my name out and write Bonky above it?" A genuine laugh escapes his lips. "Cute."

"Yeah, whatever, I was bored in class. Now back to the business card." I start to type around on my phone, opening my Gmail and pulling up the mail I send to myself. "Because I am a very generous person and just can't have you walking around with that thing, I made redesigns."

I throw my phone on the counter, a slight look of disgust on my face. "How much did you pay for the card? Or was it just done by somebody who claims has a passion for design but uses a rainbow gradient unironically?"

It's quiet for a moment except for the nervous taping of my nails against the counter as the man in front of me judges my work. I never really got used to the jitters when someone criticises my work.

"You're really good, you know that darling? These look very professional." He looks up at me, his eyes house genuine surprise.

I huff in annoyance. "Of course, I'm good at this shit. I have a degree for it, nonetheless."

Bucky gives my phone back and I tuck it back into my back pocket. "How much do you want for it?"

My mouth falls open as I look baffled at him. "Wha... what? You want it?" I never actually expected him to like the concepts I made just because I was bored.

"Definitely. The last one looks solid. Can you send me it?"

I nod blankly. "Ehrm, sure. I-I-I don't know what to ask for it, to be honest..." I've never made something freelance so I don't know what is appropriate.

A smirk forms on Bucky's lips. "What if I give you a hundred bucks?" He grabs his wallet and places a green rectangle on the counter, Benjamin Franklin staring up at the ceiling. How rich are you if you carry hundred dollar bills with you, throwing them around like nothing?

Bucky laughs at me staring at the bill. "Don't worry, baby, it's clean money."

That comment pulls me out of my daze and I grab the bill, stuffing it in my pocket. "Oh right", I roll my eyes, "Claire told me everybody thinks that we're in the Godfather."

I forward the right documents for printing and his phone dings as a sign I used the right email.

"Excuse me, who said what?" Bucky frowns, cocking his head to the side.

I wave my hand dismissively as I tidy up the counter. "Everybody and it's so stupid! Mobsters and gangsters are fake... a fable."

Bucky looks taken aback. "Is that so?", he questions, a shit-eating grin on his face. He grabs something from under his jacket and lays a gun on the counter.

He expects me to back away, a scared look in my eyes. But instead, I raise one eyebrow unimpressed at him.

"Yeah okay? Whoo, a gun, how scary!", I say mockingly, giving the gun a flick. "Come on man, it's like you guys' first amendment that you can own a gun." One corner of my mouth turns up as I see the perplexed look on the man's face.

The ringtone of the office phone blears loudly and I look over my shoulder. "I must take it, it may be important. You can let yourself out, Bonky." I wave him off and walk towards the office, answering the phone and noting the order for a bouquet.

When I enter back in the shop, Bucky indeed let himself out. Only the strong smell of his ─ I'm sure expensive ─ cologne lingers in the air.

"Awwe come on, Lex! It will be so much fun", Claire whines loudly, pulling me after our friend group who all have entered a bar.

"I thought you were so afraid to go close to Brooklyn?", I ask in a teasing tone, folding my arms over each other.

Claire rolls her eyes. "We're just past Queens. Too many tourists, nobody would dare to do something here."

As we pack ourselves into a booth, I get squished between Claire and Davis. The boy in question wraps his arms around my shoulders and presses me into him, a wide smile on his face. "Ah, it's good to see our most studious student having fun!"

I let out a loud laugh as he ruffles my hair, messing up what I spent so long straightening. "Cut me some slack! I have a─"

"A scholarship to uphold, we know", chimes the group in unison, all with smiles on their faces. I huff with a playful eye roll, knowing I said that sentence too often.

I hold up my arms in surrender. "Okay, fair. Now, who's gonna teach me to pool."

Davis drags me away from the booth, Eva walking after us. As they explain the basics and how to launch the balls correctly, the night passes and alcohol starts to flow. Of course, me being a European, I don't get drunk on the weak piss they call beer.

I lean on the pole as I watch Davis gets sluggishly pushed to the right by Eva, exclaiming loudly how it's her turn and not his. "Okay, Davis, let Eva play", I gently tug on his arm, but the guy is determent to play.

He pushes me harshly to the side. I stumble and bump into Claire, who is holding a glass. As we collide, the contents get spilt all over my blouse. I lout a yelp of surprise.

"Oh Gosh, Lex, I am so sorry!" Claire places the half-empty glass and pulls me to the toilet, wetting a paper towel and rubbing out the sticky drink.

"It's okay, I wanted to go home anyway." I push her hands away and take a paper towel to dap up most of the moisture. "Everybody's drunk of their arse, and not the fun kind of drunk", I refer to Davis and Claire nods, knowing how the guy is.

As she washes her hands, Claire remarks, "give me a moment so I can grab my purse."

I shake my head. "Please stay. I know how to get my way back. I rather have you accompany Eva save to her dorm than me, she's the drunk one." I grab both her hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me. I have pepper spray in my pocket and have a mean right hook. And if someone really tries something, an alleged mobster is just a call away." I make quotation marks with my fingers in the air as I mention Bucky.

Before Claire can protest, I quickly convince her with a wide smile. "It's only three blocks. I will be okay, Claire."

She nods reluctantly, letting go of my hand and giving me a quick hug. "If something happens, bolt away. Use those long legs of you to get away as far as possible."

With one last reassuring smile and hug, I make my way out of the bathroom and say goodbye to everybody. I walk out of the bar and tug my leather jacket closer to my body. The temperature has dropped significantly as the sun has lowered herself under the horizon.

I check my phone for the temperature. Five degrees Celcius. It can be colder back home at this time of the year, so not too bad.

I take a turn and walk into an alley, knowing it will save me five minutes so I am in time for my subway.

Suddenly, a door to my right swings open with force and someone gets thrown out, rolling over the dirty pavement and coming to a stop against the wall on my left, a pained huff escaping their lips.

Another person enters the alley through the door opening, identity hidden by the bright light from behind. They lift their arm and I spot a gun in their hand.

"Oh no", I think out loud, standing very still and holding in my breath.

The figure in the doorway fires three shots, stilling the wheezing body on the ground, slumped against the wall.

I don't wait for a second longer after the last shot and turn around, bolting out of the alley. Praise to whoever is above there to me putting on sneakers instead of the heeled boots Claire suggested.

Heavy footsteps echo behind me, bouncing off the walls. By the number of footsteps, I count around two or three people after me. I let out a loud yelp as I almost stumble down a flight of stairs I didn't see but quickly recover by jumping down them.

In my mind is the only logical thing to do is to go back to the bar. If I hide within the mass of people, nothing can happen. And Davis is a quarterback, so I'm sure he can protect me. Even in his inebriated state.

Before the bar even comes into my view, a pair of arms wrap around my middle and yank me off the street. My head harshly knocks against the brown bricks and I let out a pained groan.

I try to fight back, pushing the person away from me, but the stars in my eyes and the light feeling in my head don't really help. As I struggle, my hands are pressed together as another pair of hands tie them together with a rope, the harsh material digging into my skin.

"NO! Let go- of me!" I trash around, hitting around with my hands tied together, not giving up so easily. I never fucking imagined my night would end up like the film Taken! My father does not have a very particular set of skills Liam Neeson has. He will not find me and I'll be the one who gets killed in the end.

A loud yelp escapes my lips as I get tossed over a shoulder and carried somewhere. "Set me down! Fuckin─"

My protest gets cut short by a piece of duct tape over my mouth. I get flung into a trunk of a car, the figures looming over me.

"The boss will be delighted knowing we delivered Barnes' girlfriend to him", says the one who carried me over his shoulder. He's bald with a thick head and scars all over his face.

Another one hits him on the side of the head. Short, spikey black hair. "Be quiet, you himbo. She can still hear us." And with that, the lit gets thrown shut just a few centimetres away from my nose.

The car vibrates and comes in motion, taking sharp turns and hitting the breaks with full force. Jezus Christ, the one who's driving really needs to hit the books again.

When I feel that the car starts to drive again, I know it was just a traffic light and I still have time to break free and get out.

The first thing I do is ripping the duct tape off my mouth. Idiots didn't even press it firmly onto my skin. I pull it off easily before feeling around for something sharp. When I touch it, I celebrate in silence, quickly cutting through the rope.

After a never-ending minute of heavy sawing, the rope loosens up and I shake it off myself, already searching for the trunk release. Please be stupid, please be stupid. Aha! They are stupid!

I pull the glow-in-the-dark handle and the trunk opens up. I take my chances and fling myself out of the trunk, rolling across the asphalt and scraping my arms in the process.

Not letting myself recover from the shock, I jump up with jelly in my legs and run away as fast as possible. I grab my phone from my back pocket, praying that it didn't break. Wonder above wonder, it didn't.

I look around and see a narrow lane going to a private garden. I take my chances and bolt into the garden, distancing myself as far away from the entrance and hiding behind a large bush.

With shaking hands, I take out the business card and dial the number. I try to get my breathing under control as the tone rings.

"Bucky Barnes spea─"

"Bonky it's me, Lex. I don't have a lot of time, so listen", I interrupt Bucky as soon as he answers the phone, using the stupid name I wrote on the business card as an indication it's me. "I just escaped a car trunk and now two guys are after me. If you are actually the mobster people say you are, help me."

"Where are you? Do you have my card with you?" The words leave Bucky's mouth quickly, already on his feet by the rustling in the background.

I frown, peaking over the bush. "Yes? But what the fuck has that to do with anything?", I hiss softly, heaving.

"I'll be there in no time, stay where you are. And stay on the phone, talk to me. What do you see?" It's no question, but an order.

My eyes flicker quickly around me, immediately going back towards the entrance of the place. "I'm in some sort of private garden, but the gate isn't locked. There are plants and trees, big ones--"

I stop talking and clasp a hand over my mouth as footsteps approach. A figure stops at the entrance and peers into the garden. I hold my breath, scared to even make a sound.

"Lex? LEX?!", yells Bucky over the phone and I wince.

"Shut up", I hiss back, pressing the phone against my chest to muffle out the sounds.

The figure standing at the entrance snaps his head in my direction, stilling and listening for any more sounds. We stay like this for a minute or so, but to me, it feels like an eternity.

With one last look, the figure moves further and I let out a relieved breath. "How long until you're here?", I whisper, tears filling my eyes.

"Almost there, princess. Is it a gate with vines growing up to it?"

I nod but remember he can't see it. "Yes, that's the one."

The sounds of tires screeching to a stop makes me look up from my hiding place, my eyes peeking over the bush. A figure walks in with something pressed against their ear.

"Is that you?", I ask in a whisper and the figure whips around, their eyes searching everywhere.

"It's me", I hear through the telephone and echo against the walls. A relieved cry escapes my lips as I jump up from my hiding spot and rush towards Bucky. I throw my arms around him and sob into his chest. I have never been this scared in my life.

A bit surprised, he wraps his arms around me and places a hand on the back of my head. "It's okay, I'm here. You're safe."

We stay like this for a minute, me sobbing my heart out and Bucky holding me close to him, as suddenly a voice behind us speaks up.

"The area is clear, Sir. No sign of anyone", says the person firmly but with a slight quiver in his voice.

Bucky nods and pushes me away from his body, wiping the tears off my cheeks with his thumbs. "Come, doll. Let's get you somewhere save."

Without much reaction or protest from me pulls Bucky me away and into a car, safely tucked into his arms on the backseat.

The whole drive towards I don't know where is spent in silence, his eyes focussed on me as I watch the outside rush past.

"Are you coming?", he asks as the car comes to a stop and someone opens up the door for Bucky.

I nod absentmindedly. "Yeah, just give me a moment", I mumble, not really paying attention to which language I am speaking.

Bucky nods but holds out his hand for me to take. He holds it up for as long as I need that minute before I finally find the strength to move. I lay my hand in his and he pulls me out of the car.

He pulls me towards the house or whatever it is. I'm not really paying attention to it. My focus is more around me, in search of two familiar faces.

"Hey", whispers Bucky softly, pulling my attention to him. "They aren't here. Whoever did this-" Bucky refers to my scraped arms and knees "-will never hurt you again. I promise. Shall we get those wounds checked out?"

I answer with a slight nod and let him lead me towards a kitchen. With a bit of help from Bucky, I hop on the kitchen island. My eyes follow the mobster as he moves around, pulling a first aid kid from a cabinet.

"So... you really are a mobster, then?", I ask softly to break the silence, the question resting for a while on my lips. I hiss as Bucky presses a cotton ball to my arms to disinfect the wounds.

"In theory." Bucky shrugs casually.

I frown and scrunch up my face. "In theory? Dude, you are or you are not. It's not a fifty-fifty question." I pull my arm away slightly, but Bucky grabs it firmly to wrap both of my arms in bandages.

Bucky glances at me but keeps quiet.

"So this is really The Godfather. By the way, did someone get kidnapped in The Godfather?"

The mobster stops what he is doing and looks up at me. "You have seen the movie, you should know."

A stifled laugh leaves my lips as I shake my head. "I never finished it. I stopped after ten minutes or so because... I don't actually know. But I didn't go further than the wedding."

Bucky lets out an exaggerated sigh, dropping his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. "You are... impossible." He finished up cleaning the scrapes on my arms and knees, applying a soothing balm to the burn marks on my wrists.

I sigh deeply and suppress a yawn, a hand clasped in front of my mouth. A soft smile forms on Bucky's face and he tugs on my elbow, nudging me off the counter.

"Let's get you to a nice bed so you can sleep. Are you able to sleep on your own?", teases Bucky with that oh so familiar smirk of his.

I roll my eyes as I follow him up the stairs. "Do I look like a child to you?"

"No- I...", he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I meant, do you feel safe to sleep on your own or do you need someone to keep watch over you?"

My cheeks slightly head up at the thought of Bucky staying with me for the night. "No need for that, thanks though." I give him a tight-lipped smile, walking through the door Bucky holds open for me.

"You can stay as long as you wish. The bathroom is to the right and there are some spare clothes in the closet." Bucky stands at the foot of the bed as he watches me inspect the room. "I'll leave you to it. Good night, angel."

I nod in acknowledgement and make my way towards the bathroom to wash up before I go to sleep. Now that I am near a bed, I notice how tired I am. All the running and adrenaline has tired me out and now I just want to sleep and forget everything.

After washing up and grabbing a pair of sweats and a shirt from the closet, I slip under the covers and make myself comfortable. Out of all the days that I would fall asleep fast, I wouldn't have guessed today.

Bucky feels wrong watching her sleep. And it's not like he hasn't watched her prior. It's a miracle that she hasn't noticed the tracker in the business card or him following her for days. Call it stalking, call it keeping an eye out for her.

But now that she's here, in his house, sleeping in the guest bedroom, he couldn't help himself to slip into the room and watch her sprawled out on the bed, her dark hair like a halo around her head.

She looks peaceful despite the events of a couple hours ago. Soft huffs and little noises leave her lips as she turns to lay on her side, pulling the covers up to her face.

A soft smile grows on Bucky's face as he walks towards Lex, crouching down so he’s on eye level. He pushes away a couple of strands that have fallen before her face. He places a feathery kiss on her forehead before walking out of the room detriment to finding the motherfuckers who dared to touch her.

He will find them and break every fucking bone in their bodies, one by one, waiting until the pain is subdued and breaking them all over again.

A knock on the door awakes me from my peaceful slumber and I groan loudly. I kick the covers off me and stumble out the bed, swinging open the door and yawning loudly.

Bucky looks at me amused with a slight smirk on his face, his head cocked to the side. "Good morning sweet cheeks, slept well?"

It takes me a moment before I am fully awake. I am definitely not a morning person, I can tell you that. As my mind gets less foggy, I notice Bucky's attire. And how casual it is.

It's weird to see him not wearing a suit and tie. He's wearing a pair of dark jeans and a shirt. It's so simple, but he looks hot in it.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I fake a yawn and shrug. "It was great until someone decided to wake me up from it. How late is it anyway?"

Bucky snorts. "How late is it? You Englished that very well."

I ignore his comment and turn around, making my way back to the bed and climbing in. I hear Bucky tsk and walk after me, looking at how I crawl back under the covers with an amused smile.

"Let me be with my very good grammar", I grumble, my voice muffled by the blankets and pillows before I throw them off me. "What do you want anyway?"

Bucky makes his way across the room, sliding open the blinds so sunlight can filter through, shining straight in my face. "I am going to work and I need you to come with me."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Do I have to?", I whine, not really looking forward to being locked up in an office all day. Or going with him to some dingy warehouse to torture people. At least, I think that he does that. "Can't you just drop me off at my place? Or... I stay here, comfortable, in bed."

A deep sigh leaves the mob boss' lips as they press themselves in a thin line. "No way I am leaving you alone, snookums. I don't trust it..." In the end, he trails off, his voice going quieter like he's deep in thought.

Dear God! These nicknames are getting more idiotic with time. "Snookums? Really? Besides, don't you trust me?"

At my accusation, Bucky turns his head abruptly towards me. "Not trusting you? Sugar, it's no you who I don't trust. It's my men. You were kidnapped in my territory by unknown men. Who knows, maybe they were my men." He starts to pace back and forth, a hand on his chin as he thinks out loud.

"Correction", I say as I stand up from the bed, walking towards the bathroom, "I was in Queens, and not on the border between Queens and Brooklyn."

Bucky follows me into the bathroom. "Oh muffin, you don't think that I only own Brooklyn, do you?" He speaks to me like explaining something simple to a small child.

I roll my eyes annoyed. "Whatever dude." I turn on the sink and start to wash my face, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes with cold water. "Just... let me grab something to do from my place."

As I dry off my face, I turn towards Bucky, who's leaning against the doorpost. His hands in the pockets of his jeans and a smirk on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head with a smile before turning around and walking out of the bedroom. "Be ready in ten, buttercup."

Lo and behold, I make my way down fully dressed and ready to go ten minutes later. Pretty impressive for the gal who takes forty-minute showers.

At the sound of my footsteps on the stone stairsteps, Bucky looks up from his phone from the couch. He has changed out of his jeans and shirt into a suit.

It's just a simple dark suit but his tie is fabulous. It has a floral pattern in red. It's nice, brings out the pale blue colour of his eyes.

"Ready?", he asks me as he gets up, putting his phone in the inside pocket of his jacket.

I nod, walking after him towards the front door. "Nice tie", I compliment with a genuine smile. "That colour suits you."

Bucky looks perplexed at my soft voice and stops abruptly in his steps. I only notice it once I've reached the car and he's not next to me. With a raised eyebrow, I turn back towards Bucky who's still standing at the front door.

"You okay?" I cock my head to the side now with both my eyebrows raised. "Come on dude, I had to hurry. And can we please get something for breakfast on the way? I'm starving!" I get into the car, clearly not seeing the look in Bucky's eyes.

I skip up the stairs to my apartment, a breakfast burrito in my hands. It's only one floor so no need to take the lift.

As I grab my keys, the door swings open and a very worried Claire stands before me with the fattest frown on her face.

"You're safe, thank God!", she yells, pulling me into my apartment. She checks all over me, her hands touching every part of my body. "What the fuck happened?! Why are you all bandaged up? And why didn't you text me when you got back?"

A sigh leaves my lips. Shit. I always text her when I arrive back home when we're going out.

"Right, sorry Claire", I begin, not really knowing how to explain what happened last night. "Something... came up and I totally forgot to text you. Sorry for worrying you." I grab both her forearms and push her hands off me.

I push past her and start to collect my laptop and all the necessities I need for it. Claire trails behind me like a puppy while making agitated noises.

"Did he do this to you?" She refers to my bandages. "I told you he was no good news, and look where it got you!"

I stop in my tracks and turn around furiously. I open my mouth, but before I can snap at Claire for being idiotic another voice is ahead of me.

"I did no such thing", hisses Bucky angrily. He stands in the opening of my front door with an enraged look on his face, his stance rigid and a vein bulging on the side of his temple.

A whimper leaves Claire's lips as she sees the mob boss standing in my home, his anger pointed towards her. She quickly hides behind me scared. Bucky scoffs as he looks away.

With a shake of my head, I choose to stay silent and pack further my backpack.

"What going on?", asks Claire in a whisper, clinging to my arm.

I make eye contact with Bucky across the room. He gives me a slow nod, his eyes still trained on Claire and her hands on me.

"I got kidnapped last night, that's what happened. And thanks to Bucky, I am standing here. And for the injuries... I jumped out of a moving car. That's all you need to know." I pull my arm out of her grip and walk towards Bucky.

"All I need to know? Jesus Christ, Lex! Do you know how worried I was? And now you turn up here with bandages and a mob boss?!" Claire stands in the middle of my living room and points with an open hand to Bucky, her chest rising rapidly.

I stare at the ground in an attempt to stay calm. "Yeah, well... it's not like my choice to be kidnapped, Claire. I was fucking lucky Bucky was only a call away." I move past Bucky, towards my door. "See you on Monday", I say before walking out of my apartment and towards the stairs.

Once Bucky enters his car, I am already strapped in and ready to go with a scowl on my face. He hesitates for a minute, his mouth opening and closing. But, he opts to stay silent and just starts the car.

The whole trip to whatever Bucky's taking me, I don't say a thing and neither does Bucky.

As the car stops in an underground parking lot, I lick my lips, searching for the right words. Instead of what happened with Claire, I choose to move on.

"So, what do you do exactly?", I ask as I hop out of the car, my backpack slung over my shoulders.

Bucky gives me a pointed look and walks through the glass doors that automatically slide open and into an already ready elevator. I trail after him like a puppy, holding on tight on the straps of my backpack.

The ride up is silent and a bit tense, as Bucky furiously types away on his phone with his everlasting frown on his face.

With my head slightly crooked, I study him. "If the bells in Rome ring three times, your face will be a permanent scowl", I say teasingly, Bucky's eyes stapping up to me.

The frown thickens and I chuckle. With just a slight hesitation, I take a step closer to him and smooth out the wrinkles between his brows.

"Wha- what?", he mumbles confused, his arms dropping next to his body and his gaze going all over my face.

I give him a half-smile as I take a step back. "It's a thing my grandma always said to me when I pulled a silly face. It rhymes in Dutch."

The elevator dings and the doors slide open, revealing an empty hallway. I look expectantly towards Bucky to see if he moves out of the elevator or not. But he just stares dazed at me, an unreadable look on his face.

"Is this... our floor?", I ask hesitant, not sure what to do.

Bucky snaps out of... whatever that was and hurries out of the metal box on a wire. I follow behind him, keeping my eyes on the ground as people approach Bucky.

By now I know that it's better to know nothing about the mob so I zone out of their conversation and only pay attention when my name is said.

"Sorry, what?", I say, blinking a couple of times and looking up to Bucky and the person beside him.

He's tall, built like a tree and has dirty blond hair. A clean-shaven face reveals a strong jawline.

"This is Steve Rogers, my second hand. If you have questions and can't find me, Steve will help you." Bucky points towards the man.

I smile up at him and hold out my hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr Rogers. Alexia Seijters, but I prefer Lex or Alex." The handshake is firm and short, but Mr Rogers squeezes a bit too much.

I massage my hand as I turn to Bucky. "Does he know about... yesterday?"

Bucky nods and I look back at Mr Rogers. "I am sorry to be intruding, Mr Rogers. I wanted to go home and lock myself in there. But someone has to always get his way." I playfully take a yap at Bucky and Steve throws his head back to laugh loudly, grabbing his left peck.

"Oh Lord, you are one to keep. I'm sure you'll be two hands on one belly with Sam. And call me Steve, darling. No need for formalities." Steve smiles at me and grabs my shoulder, steering me away from Bucky.

I grimace. "What's with your kind of people and giving nicknames? I bet he doesn't even know what my name is with the number of nicknames he has given me."

Steve looks over his shoulder towards Bucky, his eyes amused. "Oh? And they are?"

Humming, I think deeply. "Doll, darling, angel, princess. And those are not even the worst. Buttercup, sweet cheeks, snookums. That one is just the cherry on top." Steve and I snicker as he brings me into an office.

Bucky has a scowl on his face again as he chews on his bottom lip. He chooses to stay silent and just glare at us as he lets himself fall in the big leather chair behind a desk.

"And do you have a nickname for him too? As in payback?" Steve leans against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest, the amused look still prominent in his eyes.

"Well... I'm not a big nicknamer, but on occasions─"

"Lex...", warns Bucky sternly, his jaw clenching.

I poke my tongue out. "Bonky. I call him Bonky."

Steve throws his head back again whilst laugh loudly, like very loud. A smile creeps on my face as I watch the man stumble towards the desk and nudge Bucky's side. The latter just gives Steve a grimace.

"Are you done? Because we got things to do", grumbles Bucky as he stands up and walks towards the door.

Before he leaves the office, he turns towards me. "Stay here, you understand? I'll be in my office just a couple of doors to the left. And when you can't find me, or if I'm busy, find Steve."

I nod with a roll of my eyes. "Yes, I understand. I am not a child." I make my way towards the desk and plop down on the chair, my backpack in my lab.

Bucky gives me one last pointed look before leaving the office, Steve trailing behind him with a smile and a wave.

As the door closes, a question pops up in my head. Where's the toilet?

I managed to delay my trip to the bathroom for as long as I can, but after four hours the need to pee is high. So, I slam my laptop close, grab my phone and set out to venture around the office in search of either Steve, Bucky, or the sign for a toilet.

I peek my head out of the office and see that the floor is completely empty. I mean, it's a Saturday so I don't expect office workers running around right now.

After walking around the office, I conclude that Steve's nowhere to be seen and Bucky's in his office. I make my way towards Bucky's door and press my ear against it to hear if he's in a meeting or not.

The door gets pulled open and I get yanked into the office, a gun pressed against my temple as someone wraps his arm around my torso to keep me in place.

"We've got an eavesdropper, sir."

I trash around and bite the person holding me in their arm. Which earns me a slap against my cheek and I fall to the ground. My left cheek starts to glow as it stings.

"Little bitch", growls the person who hit me ─ and I bit ─ and cocks his gun.

Suddenly, the guy gets punched in his face and he stumbles back. Bucky grabs him by the front of his shirt and pulls him up.

"Don't you dare to lay a single finger on her, you understand", he spits fuming, a vein bulging on the side of his neck. "If I ever see that again it will be the last time you touch anything."

Two hands wrap around my upper arms and pull me up, placing me on a chair. "Are you okay, pumpkin?", asks Bucky as he presses a cool hand to my cheek.

I hiss and pull away. I move my jaw and grimace at the stinging pain. "That's gonna leave a bruise." Pressing my own hand to the tender flesh carefully, I glance up at Bucky. "I came asking where the toilet was but do you guys have something against toilets or something?"

Bucky chuckles as he pulls me out of the chair and leads me towards a small kitchenette. He helps me get on the counter and wets a towel, pressing it against my cheek. "Hold it there."

I do what he says and watch Bucky lean against the kitchen counter, his eyes trained on the floor.

"It's a very familiar setting, isn't it?", I say to lighten the mood. But my comment earns a glare from Bucky.

He folds his arms in front of his chest. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing well-tanned skin. I lick my lips and look away, trying to get my mind out of the gutter.

"This is not something to joke about. You could have died!" Bucky huffs harshly.

I roll my eyes at Bucky's dramatics. Why is he suddenly so up and about it? "Don't pull that tone with me, Buck-o. It's not my fault I got held at gunpoint. And let's not forget about the kidnapping." I hop off the counter and stand in front of Bucky, my hands on my hips.

His eyes narrow as his brows knit together. "Oh? And who's is it then?"

"Yours!" My breathing is quick as I look up at him, my eyes a challenge.

Bucky pokes his tongue against the wall of his cheek, his foot tapping agitated against the floor. He closes his eyes to keep his cool. "Then leave", he says emotionless.

I raise one eyebrow. "Oh, so now I can? Or will I be forced to spent somewhere I don't want to be?"

Bucky huffs angrily. "Fucking leave!", he yells from deep within his chest, his breath knocking into my face.

I take a precautious step back as I see veins bulge out from the side of his head. Without any more words, I turn around and walk back to the office, angrily stuffing my belongings back into my backpack and marching towards the elevator.

"Where are you going?", questions Steve as I pass him in the hallway, his hand grabbing my upper arm.

I jank it out of his grip and keep walking towards the elevator, angrily hitting the button to go down multiple times. "Tell that hypocritical bag of hay that he can suck it!"

Steve looks absolutely lost when I get into the elevator and close the door by pressing the button repeatedly. The whole way down I am fuming with anger, chewing on the inside of my cheek.

How dare he be angry at me while he is the one that got me in this shit in the first place.

I whip out my phone and scroll through my contacts for someone to pick me up. I can't ask Claire, she's probably still angry at me, I can't ask Gladace obviously, Eva can't drive. So, Davis, it is. I dial his number, one foot bouncing as I pray that he picks up.

"Waddup, cheese eater", says Davis' cheery voice from the other side of the connection.

I roll my eyes at the nickname. "Hi, can you pick me up? I am somewhere in Brooklyn and calling you is so much cheaper than a Uber."

Davis snorts. "Sure, be on my way. Can you send me the address?"

I hum and say goodbye to him, sending my location to him and sitting down on the pavement, scrolling through my Instagram feed.

Maybe five minutes later comes Davis rolling around the corner on a motor. He stops in front of me and throws an extra helmet at me. I quickly put the helmet on and hop on the back of his bike, tightly holding on to his shoulders as he speeds away.

The drive back towards is thank God not that long as Davis speeds over the road. Once we reach my apartment, turns Davis the motor off and helps me climb off it. I give back the helmet with a small smile.

"Thanks for the ride, see you on Monday." I give him a wave as I pull out my keys from my jacket.

"Hey...", says Davis, making me turn around. "Are you okay? I mean between you and your boyfriend?"

I knit my eyebrows together. Boyfriend? "Oh! You mean Bucky? God no, thank not." I chuckle awkwardly, scratching the back of my head. "He's more... a persistent force for the last couple of weeks."

Davis nods, an unreadable look before he hops back onto his bike, saying, "see you on Monday!", before driving off.

With a shake of my head, I turn towards my building and unlock the door, slipping in and walking up the stairs.

Bucky storms into his office, slamming the door close and letting himself fall on his desk chair and putting his hands in his hair.

He fucked up, he royally fucked up with Lex. There is no comming back from that. And he knows she's right, and that's why he got so angry. He knows that it's his fault for dragging her into his life, for bringing her into danger when she was just passing through a fucking alleyway.

The door to his office opens and Steve storms into the room, a worried look on his face. "Why is Lex leaving and why are you a, and I quote, a hypocritical bag of hay?" Steve does air quotations at what Lex called Bucky.

A humourless laugh leaves Bucky's lips at Lex's words. Even when angry she is cute.

"I...", Bucky sighs deeply. "She wanted to ask me something but lingered too long before the door. One of those imbeciles thought she was eavesdropping. In short, she bit him and he hit her.

"I guess that I reacted my anger out on her and... fuck!" He curses loudly, hitting his desk, causing a glass to fall off and hitting the ground, shattering on impact.

Steve hisses at his idiot friend. "Listen, go after her if you feel so guilty. Tell her you're sorry for being angry at her. That will do the trick."

Bucky jumps up and bolts out of the office, swinging open the doors to the stairwell as the elevator will take too long. He comes bursting through the door just as Lex drives away on the back of someone’s motor.

He curses loudly and pinches the bridge of his nose. As Bucky watches them drive away, he notices something on the back of the motor. A black sticker with a red skull and tentacles.

"God damnit." He grabs his phone and dials a number. "Yeah, it's me. They fucking got her."

I slam the door of my apartment and a sigh leaves my lips. I slide down the door and thread my hands in my hair, pulling my knees up to my chin.

"Lex?", asks Claire as she stands at the end of the couch, a worried look on her face.

I look up and sniff, tears swelling in my eyes. I jump up and rush towards her, engulfing her in a hug. "I am so sorry", I cry out, "it's been so mentally draining and I took it out on you. Which you don't deserve!"

Claire pats my back, hugging me tightly. "What has happened, Lex. Please, tell me so we can fix it."

I take a step back and shake my head, wiping the tears off my cheeks. "You were right, I should have stayed away from him..."

A frown forms on Claire's face as she leads me towards the couch, sitting me down and walking towards the kitchen and filling the kettle while grabbing mugs from the cabinets.

"La... last night, when I left, I took a wrong turn, so to say. A-and these two guys saw me seeing them shoot a person. I-I-I didn't know what to do so I just ran. But they caught up with me and kidnapped me, locked me up in a trunk." I look down in shame and wipe away a tear that has rolled down my cheek.

A gasp leaves Claire's lips as she covers her mouth with her hand. "How... how did you escape? What did they do to you?" She grabs my face and turns it from side to side, inspecting if I have any bruises.

I take a step back, wrapping my arms around my body protectively. "Nothing happened, not really. I escaped out of the trunk before anything..." I swallow thickly. "Hey, I'm gonna take a shower and just sleep. Is that okay?"

Claire nods with a frown, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Yeah- no, of course. Do you need me to go?" She points towards the door.

With a shrug, I turn towards the bathroom. "I don't care. I'm sorry, I'm just exhausted."

Wordlessly, I leave her standing in the middle of the living room. I strip myself off my clothes and sit on the closed toilet seat lid as I wait for the shower to heat up.

Ugh, I hate these crap showers of the states. Those back home are just in an instant warm and don't run out of hot water. What kind of bullshit is that?

Before I enter the shower, I hear the slam of my front door. I sigh heavily. It's maybe for the better.

After a scorching hot shower ─ that was more sitting on the tiled floor and scrubbing off the many hands that have been laid on me these past two days ─ I put on the largest sweater I have and lay in bed, pulling up Netflix on my laptop and playing The Good Place, my comfort show.

My eyes start to droop as soon as the second episode is finished and I groan. I have to close my drapes if I want to sleep.

I roll out of bed, and as I grab the curtains, I see a familiar car with a familiar Blond leaning against it. He lifts his hand in a wave, a cigarette in between his lips, making eye contact with me.

A yelp escapes my lips and I close the blinds quickly, crouching down. I breathe heavily. How could I be so stupid? Bucky knows where I live, of course, Steve knows too! Wait, if Steve is here, does that mean that Bucky is here too?

I hold my breath, listening to any footsteps. I crawl on my hands and knees through my apartment towards the front door and lay my ear against it. I hear nothing, not a single sound from the other side of the door. Slowly, I raise to my feet and look through the peephole. Nothing.

I'm not yet reassured of my safety and in a whirlwind, I lock every possible entrance and close every blind. Only after double-checking, I make my way towards my bedroom, locking that door too and getting under the covers, pulling it up to my chin.

I pray to whoever is up there that this is the only ─ and last ─ time that I see Steve.

Spoiler alert! It wasn't.

As soon as I leave my building to go to school the following Monday, Steve is at the same spot as Saturday. Only this time he's seated in his car.

He drives towards me and slows down, rolling down the window. "Good morning, Lex."

I nod towards him in acknowledgement, gripping the straps of my backpack as I continue walking towards the metro. I can't show him or anyone else that I am petrified.

"Buck's sorry, you know?"

The statement makes me scoff. "Oh yeah, why isn't he here then? Why has he send you instead of comming himself and apologising?" I glare towards the blond, not stopping once.

Steve sighs, his left hand resting on top of the steering wheel. "You haven't come out of your apartment all weekend, he was getting worried."

I roll my eyes. "You know, Steve, he can put his apology up his butt, with these two." I flip him the bird, which is not very classy but what mom doesn't know, won't hurt her.

As I pick up the pace, I feel Steve following me in his car. The feeling stays for the whole week, and I know for a fact that Bucky has ordered Steve to follow or watch over me. He is not subtle about it.

I always see the car on the other side of the street when I open my drapes, he follows me as I go to school, and I see Steve hanging around my school campus when I switch buildings or go for lunch with my friends.

Bucky hasn't shown his face in over a week, the coward that he is. I expected a lot more balls from the mob boss.

The first time when I am not followed is when me and my friends into a club where I don't know the name of.

The loud bass of the music drones through my body, Davis' arms around me as he pulls me into the dark nightclub. A smile is on his face while he leads me towards the bar. He motions to the bartender two shots, the bartender nodding.

"Is this really necessary", I whine, wobbling uncomfortably on my high heels ─ that I had to wear from Eva ─ in a top that's way too sheer for my liking. Where even is she? Claire couldn't come, something about being sick off her ass.

Davis ignores my whining and shuffling from one foot to the other. "Drink up!", he yells over the music, shoving a shot in my hands.

I comply and swallow the shot, my face turning sour at the bitter taste that slides down my throat. "That's disgusting", I groan out loud, shivering.

The guy just laughs at my misery and pulls me towards the dance floor, moving on the beat. "You need to let loose, girl! You kept looking over your shoulder the whole week like you're being followed." He chuckles.

I laugh humourlessly. Was it that obvious? "Oh, well, tough week", I smile forced, brushing it off. "You know what, I'm going for another drink." I point towards the bar and alk off the dance floor.

As I take place at the bar, Eva appears out of thin air with two drinks in her hands. "There you are", she smiles, handing me one glass, "I was looking all over you."

I take it and sip. "Davis dragged me to the dance floor, you know how he is. Do you by the way know what's with Claire? I only get a text from her that she couldn't come." I pout, missing my best friend.

Eva seems to tense up a little bit at my mention of Claire. "She told me she was punking as her life depends on it, I think food poisoning." The girl shrugs, taking the straw between her fingers and drinking.

I frown. "Oh, I told her not to eat that salad yesterday. It looked suspic- ious." My head starts to spin and I scrunch up my face.

"Everything okay?" Eva lays a hand on my shoulder and I nod.

"Y-yeah, just feeling a bit light-headed. I'm probably going to look for a quiet place..." I stand up from the barstool but stumble over my own feet. Stupid high heels.

A pair of firm hands hold me up, tightly gripping my shoulders. "What wrong?", asks Davis, concern laced in his voice.

"She's not feeling well. Let's get her somewhere... quiet."

The way Eva says the last word makes me frown and I look up but Davis is already dragging me somewhere, following behind Eva. We make our way out of the main space, as the flickering lights and loud music decreases with every second we venture through the dark halls.

I try to fight off Davis' hands, but this sudden sickness has hit me like a freight train. I stumble over my feet, almost twisting my ankle as I get lead outside, towards a car.

"Wha-what?", I ask meekly as my head gets pushed down and into the car. I land unceremoniously on the backseat, quickly scrambling up to compose myself despise the immense dizziness.

Davis climbs next to me, pulling me against his body and pressing a cloth against my mouth. He shushes me while holding me in a headlock, not letting me move away from the cloth.

I put up a good fight for the state I am in. After I don't know how long, everything starts to blur together and my eyes start to get droopy.

"Yeah, we got his girl, make sure the boss is notified", is the last thing I hear before I pass out in Davis' arms.

When I wake up again, I am seated on a wet, dirty floor with my right hand cuffed up to a radiator pipe. I groan as a headache hammers through my skull, getting worse with the second.

As I reach up to hold my head, the handcuff clanks loudly against the pipes and I hiss. Son of a bitch, that hurts like a buttcheek on a stick.

The ratling of my movement seems to alert someone as a handful of footsteps are walking towards me. I lean back and look at the people approaching me. Surprise surprise, it is all men.

I scan the faces and notice a familiar face with short, dark hair. "You", I say, narrowing my eyes.

The guy chuckles menacingly. "Good to see you too, princess."

My face contorts in disgust at the stupid nickname. Okay, maybe it's not that bad when Bucky does it.

I grow impatient as the group of middle-aged men stare at me, conversing in hushed tones. "Is someone going to tell me why I am here or do I have to wait until you guys die of old age to get out of here?"

The comment earns me a slap against my cheek. Tears swell into my eyes but I hold them back, they don't deserve them.

An older gentleman bends over at the waist, his hand tracing the side of my face with a gloved hand before grabbing a fist full of my hair and yanking my head back so that I am looking directly into his eyes. "Here's how we're going to do, sweetheart." His tone is threatening and demeanour that yells that he's in charge.

"Oh, so you're like the boss?", I ask, the man nods. "Aren't you a little too old to be playing cops and robbers?" I smirk smugly.

A knife gets pulled out from somewhere and pressed against my cheek, the blade almost digging into my skin. "I see, you're a talker. I more pegged you for whimpering and begging, guess I was wrong."

I scoff. "The only pegging happening here is you getting fucked in the ass." The words leave my mouth before I realize it. It results in the tip of the knife getting pressed in my cheek. A drop of blood travels down my cheek, stopping at my jaw.

"Listen here, little girl, I don't want to hurt you. But if you keep up this... defiant act, I must punish you." The man scolds me like I'm a child, patting my cheek with his hand, smearing the blood all over.

I turn my head to the side and sneer. Who does this middle-aged man think he is? The king?

"This is how we're going to do the following", says the man as he stands up straight, his hands in his pockets. Behind him, a goon carries a tri-pot with a phone on it. "We're going to record a video message for your boyfriend and you, my dear, are going to play nice."

Boyfriend? Why does everybody think Bucky's my boyfriend.

"Look, you mentally deficient Baba Yaga! He's. Not. My. Boyfriend!" I puncture every word with a stomp of my shoes. It's not really impressive since the high heels don't sound heavy when they hit the floor, but it gets the point across.

The men laugh and get to work, setting up to record the video. The dark-haired guy walks towards me with a rag. He ties the rag behind my head and pushes the fabric between my lips. I manage to bite him once, which earns me a stop against my nose.

My nose lets out a sickening crunch and my eye water from the impact. I let my head drop.

The guy yanks my head back up by my hair and makes me look straight at the camera. A soft whimper leaves my mouth when I spot myself on the screen; my nose is crooked and blood drips out of one nostril, my left eye is pink, already turning thick, the cut on my cheek much bigger than it feels like.

"Listen, Barnes", begins the elder man, gripping my jaw, his grip bruising, "you have something of ours. And in return, we took something of yours." He shakes my head.

I pull my face out of his grip and try to get as far as possible away from him with one handcuffed to a radiator pipe. "I'm not his, you abominable twat!"

The man pulls out a gun, aiming it at me. I make eye contact with him and press my forehead against the barrel. "Shoot me, you coward. Do it!", I yell, my voice echoing through the empty warehouse.

He looks taken aback for a second before raising the gun and hitting me on the head with the back of it, knocking me down.

I yelp and lay on the ground, my head resting on top of my underarm after it slammed on the ground. I stay there while the men clean up the tripod and file out of the warehouse, one or two falling behind. They set up a table and start to play poker or some sort of card game.

Sam comes bursting through the door with a tablet in his hands. "Buck, this came in just now." He shoves the tablet under Bucky's nose and presses play.

Bucky's stomach drops as he sees her beaten and tied up, Pierce toying with her before pulling out his gun. A slight proud feeling bubbles up in him as he sees his girl mouth back Pierce. But that soon drops as he sees her get hit before the video ends.

Steve leans over Bucky's shoulder, a bag of frozen peas against his head. "Shit", he curses under his breath.

"Find where this came from. I don't care how many calls you need to make or what you need to do, do it quickly", orders Bucky loudly while trusting the tablet back into Sam's hands. He nods and hurries away, typing furiously on the tablet.

"Look, pal, I am so sorry." Steve frowns as he feels responsible for Lex's kidnapping. He was attacked when he was taking a break, eating dinner on the corner of the street, his attention on Lex's apartment. They got him from behind, beating him with a pipe so he was knocked out.

Bucky shakes his head, walking towards one of the windows of his home office. "If someone is to blame, it's me. Hydra took her when I least expected it, I should have been who should have been hit, not you." A deep sigh leaves Bucky's lips. "Why was she clubbing? Lex never clubs..."

Suddenly, an idea gets stuck in Steve's head. "Does Lex still carry around the tracker?"

Bucky turns towards his friend, eyes wide. "I think she does." He rushes towards his laptop and with just a couple of clicks, he sees Lex's location.

He jumps up from his chair and grabs his guns, sliding them into their holsters while rushing out of his office, Steve following closely behind.

"Call the fucking Odinson's and say we are ruling in our favour. She's at Fort Hancock, New Jersey."

"Were we even real friends?", I ask weakly, lifting my head to look at Davis. He shuffles from one foot to the other, guilt written over his face.

Davis grabs a metal chair and places it next to me. I turn my face away and stubbornly stay seated on the cold ground. "I don't need that fucking thing, thank you very much."

A sigh leaves his lips. "I can't speak for Eva, but I really saw you as a friend."

I scoff. Of course, he can't speak for Eva, the girl is as vague as she can be. "What do you want, Kowalzky? Cut the bullshit and spill the fucking beans. I have more things to do today."

A whistle comes from behind Davis and the guy that kidnapped me walks towards Davis, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "She's feisty, isn't she? It must be the European blood that makes her so fucking hot." He gives me a sick grin, sending shivers up my spine.

Davis pulls up his shoulders, cowering at the other guy's presence. "Yes, Mr Rumlow."

Rumlow laughs loudly, holding up a pipe of some sorts and Davis grabs it with trembling hands, wrapping both hands around the metal bar. "Go on then, end your precious friendship with that whore."

I close my eyes, scrunching my face together as I await the impact of him hitting me somewhere on my body. But it doesn't come. Davis stands shaking next to Rumlow, the pipe in his hands.

"I can't", he whispers, dropping his head.

Rumlow tsks and pulls a gun from the holsters hanging from some sort of vest, whatever the thing is called. "Hit her or I will shoot", he warns, grabbing the back of Davis' neck and forcing him towards me.

The boy just shakes his head and let the bar fall out of his hands. Rumlow clicks his tongue, raising the gun and shooting me in my right shoulder.

I let out a loud yell and double over, which causes more pain as I can't freely move my cuffed hand. I wheeze and reach with trembling hands towards the bullet wound, my hand coating red. A whimper leaves my lips.

Davis looks like a fucking fish, his mouth gaping open and eyes wide.

"Pathetic", growls Rumlow, letting go of Davis and walking towards me. An evil smile spreads on his face as he sees me crawl back, further into the wall with every step he takes to me.

"Oh, baby, such a shame of such-", his eyes trail up and down my body, stopping at my cleavage for a prolonged time, a hungry look in his eyes, "-an exquisite body."

I let the nasty son of a bitch watch me all he likes, knowing I can't do anything about it. The gunshot in my shoulder pulses with pain, the blood dripping down. It makes my shirt stick to my skin.

He smirks. "Not so mouthy now, are we?" He pats my head, brushing my hair out of my face.

"I have nothing to say to you, so why don't you fuck off?" I cock my head to the side and put on the best, sickly sweet smile I can muster. And of course, it earns me a slap.

Rumlow growls and grabs the pipe, raising it above himself and striking down on me. Every blow hurts less than the previous, the pain becoming a numbing sensation.

Defeated, I let the man hit and stomp me as his heart desires, hoping it will stop sooner if I don't react. And after a while, he finally stops, the pipe dripping with blood and not an inch of my body not covered with bruises.

As I lay on the ground, shallow breaths leaving my lips, I make eye contact with Davis and keep it. He has to see what he has done.

I don't bother to sit up when Rumlow and Davis have left, too mentally and physically tired to even move a hair. I don't even know how long has passed when I hear movement again.

Sounds are muffled but I can clearly hear gunshots in the distance. The doors to the side burst open, a body dropping lifeless on the ground.

Oh great, someone is here to kill me. Finally.

A blurry figure comes rushing in, looking around before focussing on me. As the figure comes closer, I see it's a big, blonde man, towering probably over everyone. But anyone looks tall when you're laying on the ground.

I whimper, trying to move away from the man but it's fruitless, I am already pressed against the wall.

The man crouches down and shushes my broken cries, grabbing something from his back pocket and cutting the chain, my hand dropping on my face. I let out a pained yelp at the sudden movement of my shoulder.

Whatever the man is saying while he picks me up, is muffled, but I can only manage to understand one word.

"Bu- Bucky?", I ask shakey. The man nods and leads me outside, to a dock and into a boat.

He lays me down on something soft, making sure my head is resting on a pillow and draping a blanket over me.

I try to express my gratitude, but nothing more than a heavy sigh leaves my lips. I snuggle into the blanket and pillow and watch how the blonde man walks away, leaving me with someone else to watch over me.

Bucky anxiously stands on the Brooklyn docks, walking back and forth. He can't stay still, not while the life of his baby is in the hands of someone else.

He knows that putting Thor and Loki on the job gets it much faster done, with them being based in New Jersey. That doesn't mean he will have peace until she's back in his arms.

Sam stands on top of a large crate with binoculars in his hands, scanning the waters for any sign of the speedboat of the Odinson's. Steve stands next to him, rolling a cigarette between his fingers and keeping his gun within reach.

"That's them!", Sam yells out as he sees a boat approach them, and he jumps down to stand next to Bucky. Steve does the same and all three hurry to the docking area.

As soon as the boat docks, Bucky jumps on board and rushes towards Thor. "Where is she?", he almost yells, his hands twitching.

Thor leads him down a set of stairs, to a small living space with Loki sitting in the corner, cleaning and polishing his sniper, and a bundle of bloodied blankets laying on one of the couches.

"She's in critical condition. We have to rush her to the hospital right this second if we want her to survive."

Bucky nods curtly, turning towards Steve. "Call Strange and tell him to ready an OR and a private room. Now!"

Everyone moves quickly around him. Sam jumps behind the wheel, Steve next to him with a phone pressed against his ear.

"Bucky?" His name comes out of Lex's lips in a pained wheeze, her eyes opening just a smidge.

He hushes her, laying her on the backseat. "It's okay, just focus on staying awake, okay?"

She nods, her breath leaving her lips laboured. She curls up on the leather seat, letting out a pained whine as her shoulder twits in the process.

Bucky rounds the car so he can place her head on his lap. "Go, now!", he yells to Sam, who floors the gas pedal. They rush away from the docks, towards the private hospital where Strange has prepared an operation room.

They arrive in no time at the hospital, for sure hitting all the traffic violations, but Bucky doesn't care, he has the cops in the palms of his hands. As long as they get Lex safely to the hospital, he doesn't care.

He jumps out of the car, grabbing Lex and taking her into his arms. He grimaces at the cries she lets out in pain as he runs into the hospital.

A stretcher is already waiting for them, Strange next to it with his assistants. "Fix her", asks Bucky as he lays Lex on the stretcher.

Strange rolls his eyes as he pushes the stretcher towards the OR. He starts to list off all her injuries in medical mumbo-jumbo, pulling a small flashlight from his coat and shining it in her eyes.

Lex squints and turn her head away, gaze focussed on Bucky who runs next to the stretcher. She weakly lifts her hand in an attempt, and Bucky understands the gesture. He grips her hand tightly until he is stopped by Strange.

Before Bucky can loudly protest, Strange gives him a look and enters the OR, already barking out orders.

Steve catches up to Bucky and lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Let the doctor do his job, Buck. She’s in the best hands now."

It all passes in a blur, the boat ride, the trip to the hospital. The only clear thing was the worried look in Bucky's eyes, his words muffled but hands burning with every touch.

The feels like I've only blinked when I go from a room full of bright lights to the next that's a lot darker, natural light comming in from the side.

I stir, softly groaning at the dull ache all over my body, but a sharp pain in my shoulder. As I try to sit up, a pair of hands push me down. I panic and fight the hands, crawling backwards until I fall on the ground, a pained cry leaves my lips.

"Careful!" A face hovers over me. I blink rapidly until the blurred lines sharpen and Bucky's concerned eyes come into focus.

"Bucky?", I question, my voice raspy as he helps me up from the floor and sets me up on the bed I fell off.

Bucky crouches down, dusting my knees off. "Hi bubs, how are we feeling?"

I frown, trying to connect the dots how I ended up here. "Wha... what happened?" My hand travels towards my right shoulder, my fingers grazing the bandages.

Bucky opens his mouth to say something but gets interrupted by a man in a doctor's coat walking into the room, knocking three times. As he sees me awake, he smiles.

"Ah miss...", the doctor glances down towards a clipboard in his hands, a frown on his face. He's figuring out how to say my last name.

"Just Lex is fine."

The doctor nods. "Well, miss Lex, my name's Doctor Strange. Do you mind me checking your vitals while answering some questions?"

I shake my head, sitting up straight. The doctor grabs a chair and rolls it in front of me, ushering Bucky out of the way. "Can you tell me your full name, age, and where you were born?" He grabs a small flashlight out of his breast pocket and shines it in my eyes.

I squint. "My name is Alexia Gwen Maria Seijters, born October seventh nineteen-ninety-six."

Doctor Strange nods, glancing towards his clipboard. "Very well, can you recall anything that has happened from the last forty-two hours?" He grabs my right arm and bringing it up.

A hiss leaves my lips and I pull my arm out of his grasp, throwing a glance at Bucky. Does this doctor... know, you know? Is he in on the whole mob joke?

"Don't worry", reassures Strange, "I am an associate of Barnes'."

I part my lips, thinking deeply. "I was... I was at a club with my friends- well, turns out they were fake. Oh my God!" I turn towards Bucky in panic. "Please send someone to check up on Claire! Davis said she's sick but I don't know if that's true."

Bucky nods and squeezes my shoulder. "I'll send Steve to check up on her."

"Thanks. So, anyways, Davis took me dancing, Eva gave me something to drink and that's when it all went downhill. I don't remember much from the club to the warehouse, but when I woke up I was cuffed to some pipes."

Strange nods slowly, taking notes. "And do you know what they exactly did to you? How did you sustain most of your injuries."

I gnaw on my bottom lip, hissing as the skin is split and my jaw still hurts. "As far as I know I got drugged, cut with a knife, and beat with both a gun pipe. I don't know if anything more happened while I was unconscious." A shudder runs down my spine at the thought of those barbarians doing... something.

At the way that Bucky stiffens in anger, I know that he and I share the same thought.

Doctor Strange stands up and clicks his pen. "That's all for now, miss Lex. I will send a nurse by to take some blood samples just to be sure there are no lingering drugs in your system."

Bucky and Strange shake each other's hand before the doctor leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

The silence that follows is awkward and fills the room. My eyes fall on the IV that punctures the skin of my hand and kept in place with medical tape, that itches. I start to scratch it, lifting up the edges.

"Stop messing with your IV", says Bucky sternly and he has his famous frown on his face.

I pout. "But it itches."

Bucky shakes his head as he tries to suppress a smile. "I know, bubbles."

A blush forms on my cheeks at the nickname. We stay silent after that, the peeping of my heart monitor giving away my speeding heart and I jank the sensor off of my finger.

Bucky smirks as he sits down on a chair that's stationed next to my bed, his jacket hanging over the backrest.

"Can I ask a question?"

"I have a question."

We say at the same time. Bucky nods for me to go first and I suck in a big gulp of air.

"How did you find me?" The question leaves like a speeding train my mouth and I anxiously await his answer.

He hums, licking his lips before sighing. "Remember that business card I gave you?"

I nod and grab my phone, lifting the case and grabbing the business card. Bucky takes it out of my hand and rips it through the middle. I let out a yelp as I am too attached to the piece of paper than I would like to admit.

As Bucky rips the card up, a small, transparent square reveals itself. Bucky holds it between his thumb and index finger. "A tracker."

A gasp leaves my lips as I grab the plastic thing, squeezing it and almost folding it in half. "When did you put this in?", I ask in wonder and shock.

"When I gave you my business card." Bucky looks guilty at the ground.

I frown. When he gave me the card. At the cafe. But that was months ago!

Bucky sees the realisation in my eyes as I gulp for air like a damn fish. "It was for your own protection!", he says quickly.

"Stalking me?!", I screech out. Now it makes sense. All those times when he suddenly showed up, at the flower shop, at my school. He fucking put a tracker on me!

Bucky stands up from his chair and walks towards one of the windows, his hands in his pockets but his posture rigid. "It's because I am in love with you." His answer comes out in a whisper and I almost missed it if the room wasn't dead silent.

My breath hitches. "And that terrifies me."

For a moment, Bucky doesn't know how to react. His lips are parted while turns to me, his eyes wide.

"It terrifies me that you claim to be in love with me while you barely know me. Do you know my favourite colour, the way that I like my coffee, or even if I sleep with the lights on?"

Bucky shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "Stop it", he whispers.

"And I am terrified for what happens when you do get to know me. What if I'm not what you imagine and you decide to just... off me." I turn my head away, unknowingly scratching and pealing at the tape.

Two hands engulf mine and I look up with big, scared eyes. Bucky has a soft smile on his face while his eyes hold a certain sadness. "Dollface, no.. I would never get tired of you."

He smiles while reaching up to cup my face, his thumbs caressing over my cheekbones. "Let's start over, yeah?"

A smile grows on my face as I watch how Bucky stands up and holds out his hand for me to shake.

"The name's Barnes, Bucky Barnes. And let me take you out on a date."

I giggle and shake Bucky's hand. "Well, Mr Barnes, I'm Lex Seijters. And I heard they have some mean apple pie in the hospital's restaurant."

Taglist (I tagged everyone who liked either of the two posts, lmk if you want yourself removed) : @crazy-fan-101 @anonymous-its-what-i-do @1self-love-club1 @lilacnebulas @pineprincess @saveyourbucky @winter-soldier-101 @beepboopyoda @thealmightybitchgoddess @carolzher @chris-and-seb-are-life @mynameishellosworld @superbflowersludgebear @angel-baby09 @hauntedhandsartistanhoagie @nataliiathorn @gwenavibra @tai00056 @albmedlin

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darylandbethfanforever9 · 3 years

Text

Devil’s Backbone

Chapter 5

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+

Warnings: Smut, violence, past flashbacks of sexual assault, descriptions o torture, racial hate and forced abortion. Not Tony Stark friendly.

Relationships: Bucky/OC, Steve/Natasha, Billy/Wanda/Grant, past Clint/Laura, eventual Clint/Yelena and Frank/Karen.

Summary: In the aftermath of the Blip, Bucky struggled to find his place among the world and the Avengers. However, when he is sent on a mission to Madripoor to investigate a young woman, he starts to realize that maybe his past isn’t too far behind him. Co-Written with WalkingPotterGirl14

Nat was acting weird. Clint usually was a very noticeable guy. He may be the man that never misses, but he was also the man that could read people like a book. And right now, Nat was acting very much not like herself, even with her usual stoic face.

He felt like she was hiding something from him and Laura, which made him conflicted. He knew Natasha's past with the Red Room was horrific, but she was keeping something secret, and had been on the phone to a woman last night. She usually never went on calls late at night. Sighing, he texted Laura to let her know that he was alright and that the kids were settling into school. After Tony had exposed their location to Thaddeus Ross, he'd had to move them to the outskirts of New York. He frowned when he saw Natasha in the conference room, running the facial recognition software. The tech had been created by Pym Industries and X-Con Security Consultants, as Stark Industries' facial recognition software was for more expensive and didn't always work. "What are you doing, Nat?" he asked quietly. Natasha ignored him as he entered the room. She was reading a file that was in Russian. "Trying to find out who this mysterious woman is, Clint. Steve isn't exactly talking to me right now, so I have to do this on my own," she answered harshly, causing him to grimace at her answer. Steve and Natasha's relationship had become strained after she had survived Voromir and revealed that she had been pregnant. Then she had suddenly broken up with Steve, devastating the man. He knew how much Steve loved Natasha. He'd been a shell of himself after Natasha had supposedly died. The man was far more guarded now and simply kept things civil with Natasha. "You should have told him, Nat. He loves you and it clearly shows in the way that he looks at you," he argued firmly, trying to understand why Natasha was acting this way. Natasha refused to acknowledge Clint's words. She knew Steve loved her, but she just didn't feel like she wanted children. She was upset that she had miscarried, but she hadn't been sad in the same manner as Steve had been.

Ana had gotten ready for Sharon's art gallery. She had decided to wear a red dress for tonight made with red satin and had a V-neck. It would partially show the faded burns on her chest, but no one would hardly notice them. She didn't like thinking about the burns, or the agony they had caused. It was better to just forget about it. She finished applying her makeup, adding some eyeliner and grabbed her handbag. She had put a knife in there, along with her cell phone and lipstick, before heading out. The car was waiting for her outside the building, and with a quiet smile, it drove her across High Town to where Sharon lived.

Bucky had left Sharon’s after a little but to head back and get ready for the real art show tonight. While he did, he had memorized everything for the mission, including his backstory and the reason as to why he was in Madripoor, looking at himself in the mirror. He'd showered, and let some slight stubble grow on his face for tonight. He was wearing a black blazer, black trousers, and a black shirt. He nodded to himself as he left the bedroom and said goodbye to Alpine. The cat meowed at him affectionately, before going to sit on the bottom of the cat bed. He'd made sure that no one would be able to break into the house, using the security system to its best advantage for heading out. He left his place after making sure he had everything that he needed, including his gun, a knife, and keys. He walked to the motorcycle, getting on, and quietly drove to Sharon's house.

The party was in full swing when Ana arrived at the house. She smiled at Conrad, who had already arrived and was with his girlfriend. He raised a glass to her from the corner as she approached. Sharon was showing a client some beautiful paintings as she wandered around, admiring the art gallery. She was about to ask Sharon about a Van Gough painting when a strange silence fell over the room as most eyes headed towards the door. Curiously, she turned around to see a young man with short dark brown hair, dressed in clothes that made it clear he was part of the Russian Mafia. Her brow raises in surprise. His eyes though were what caught her attention. They were a dark grey, like a wolf's eyes. She couldn't shake off the feeling…that they had met before but where? No, no way. She hadn't met anyone like that. Or at least…her memory sucked. "Everyone, this is one of my clients who has come from Moscow, Russian. His name is Yakov Surkov," Sharon said calmly, introducing the man, who nods. Ana got the sense that this man was dangerous. "He's a Russian mobster," Conrad whispers to her discreetly as they turned back around. "He doesn't do the usual Mafia stuff, but he sells weapons to resistance groups who fight dictators." She raised an eyebrow at his words, watching the man intently as he walked up to the bar to get a drink. She wasn't surprised when he ordered a Ruskova vodka to drink. The party returned to normal quickly after, with many people returning to what they had been doing. She excused herself from Conrad, whispering that one of the paintings he was looking at would be hers to which he laughed, and sat at the bar contently. She enjoys her glass of red wine, when she got the sense that someone was watching her. She glances up and feels herself smile when her eyes dance across the room at Yakov, who had been looking directly at her. Without breaking contact, he downs his drink before standing, walking over to her. Ah, a man of confidence, she could see. However, as he moved closer, a weird sense of peace settled over her. Conrad had told her who he was, what he did, but coming over to her, she didn't feel fear. In fact, his eyes almost felt familiar. It was such a strange sensation. But even so, she didn't let it show on her face. "You came over her nice and quick," she remarks, her brow raising. "Almost like you're on a mission." "What can I say? When I see something, I like, I know what I want." Okay, now that brought some colour to her cheeks. He was smooth. "For a Russian man, your English is very good." "I've been around them enough in the past for me to know. Takes some practice but you learn to work with it well." He reaches out and holds her hand, bringing it to his lips in a kiss. "Yakov Survok." Oof, he was pulling out all the stops. She couldn't remember the last time she had been treated with such respect from a single man. Surely not of this year, that's for sure. However, she still had her smarts ahead of her, and knew that it wouldn't be too brilliant if she gave out her regular name. So, she instead smiles and states back another name. "Maria Kapitonova. It's a pleasure to meet you." He lowers her hand again, smiling. "A pleasure to meet you as well." He glances around and gestures to this. "You been going to this for some time? I've never seen you around." "You've been here before?" "Couple of occasions," Yakov states quietly. "Usually for business reasons, but I've been to Sharon's a couple of times, trying to find the right piece for back home. However, I recently decided to move here all together." Ah, so he was in the area? Good to know. "To be honest, I haven't been here that often," she states lightly. "I only just recently showed up in the city…had some high friends in some good places so they got me into this big shindig. Sharon is a nice woman…smart one too." "That she is," he agrees before raising an eyebrow at her. "So, you're new to Madripoor?" "I am, yes." "Well, obviously you do know the city…isn't necessarily safe." Ana chuckles a bit. "Trust me, I know. But I think it was exactly what I needed. A change of scenery. Last place I was in was far too cold." The man snickers a bit. "I've heard that the summers in Madripoor are beautiful. I look forward to it." She looks back at him. "Then why did you move here?"

"As you said. A change of scenery," he agrees lightly. "It can be quite cold in Russia too." Ana smiles a bit and nods. "That is true…I've been there as well. All over the world. It's almost like people, in a way." At his furrowed brow, she continues. "Every person has warm and cold parts in a way. When you're close to someone, you get to see their warm parts, but if you anger them, the cold parts emerge, as vicious as ever. But even in the cold you can find warmth sometimes, and coldness withing the warmth – if that makes any sense." She found herself chuckling at the end. "I'm sorry. Maybe the wine is getting to me." Yakov chuckles before shaking his head. "No, I…I get it, really." He glances at the ground. "God knows I've had my fair share encounter with warm and cold places within me." Ana could see a bit of a fight in his eyes, glancing at the ground. He clearly had some sort of past, and for a moment, she forgets that they were practically strangers and reaches out, squeezing his arm. It causes him to look up. "We all do. That's the beauty of people. They're complex and wonderful in every way. If you're not willing to accept all parts of someone, then why even try?" That causes him to smile as well, although this one was smaller. "That is true…a beautiful statement for a beautiful woman." Ana rolls her eyes. "Now you're just saying that." "I mean it," he argues back, but there was a certain twinkling in his eyes that had her smiling. She takes the last sip of her wine, standing. "Well…thank you, Yakov." She clears her throat, remembering that she wasn't here to flirt with men. She needed to focus on actually getting the art she needed. "I have to use the restroom, but after that I plan to peruse the art here. Do you want to join me?" "I'd love to," he answers back with a smile. "Good," she responds back, offering her own grin before turning around, grabbing her purse, and heading to the restroom. Jeez, she hadn't felt something like that in…God knows how long. She wondered what Yakov had to offer her. Maybe being friends with a mafia man would benefit her greatly.

God-fucking-damn, she was gorgeous. As soon as Bucky had arrived back at Sharon's place for this whole party she was throwing for the art, she had directed him directly to where the mystery woman she knew was sitting at the bar. And while Bucky of course followed up on her and began to talk to her, trying to learn her name – Maria, of all things, but he knew that was most likely a front – and all about her for his own case, he couldn't deny the beauty that she had.

She had the most beautiful eyes that he had ever seen, a light grey that he compared to opals. She had wavy dark brown hair that was almost black but had a mahogany colour. She was tall, but barely reached his height. The red silk dress flattered her figure and emphasized the curves she had. He noticed a few men were watching her as she left for the restroom, her hair glowing in the disco lights. She was most certainly a looker, that was for sure. "Enjoying the party, Yakov?" a voice asked with amusement. He turned around to see Sharon had come over to the bar, and had ordered herself a Piña colada, eying the drink that he was drinking. "It's enjoyable, Miss Carter. And I just met the delightful Maria Kapitonova. She's a charming young woman," he answered smoothly as he saw a young woman with blonde curly hair enter the art gallery and go to the restroom. "That she is. She's friendly with Conrad Mack, the Smiling Tiger, Melissa Gold who is known as Songbird and two hackers called Polina Astakhova and Evan Drake. She's making a name for herself in this city - plus she's laid down some ground rules for everyone," Sharon said impressed. After a moment however, she turns him around, looking at him carefully. "Be careful, Bucky. She's not like most of the people who live here but she's dangerous. She's killed at least three folks who didn't abide by the new rules," she said warningly. Before he could reply, Maria returned from the restroom, her bag in her hands. "I'd love to see the new art collection you've acquired. Sharon, I heard from Conrad and Melissa that you have some art nouveau pieces?" Maria asked curiously. She'd loved the art nouveau art and architecture. Bucky takes her up on that. "I'd like to see this art collection as well, Sharon. I have a deep fondness for Art Deco, and Art Nouveau style," Bucky added, genuinely interested. Sharon smiled, as she showed them the collection upstairs, moving along gracefully through the halls until they arrived where it was. Bucky admired the paintings on the wall, knowing fully well that these paintings and sculptures were the real deal. Most of the paintings and sculptures in the museums and art galleries, including the Louvre, were elaborate fakes. "I'll take those and some of your Asian Art collection as well, Sharon," he answered smoothly, handing her a wad of cash in Russian ruble. She smiled at him as she took it. "You have great taste," she mutters to him, to which he chuckles. Both of them saw Maria admiring the one of the paintings on the wall, before she turns to Sharon. "I'd like to buy this and a few other pieces," she said softly. Sharon smiled and arranged to have them sent to her house, as well as Bucky's place.

The party continued going on in their absence. Bucky noticed that some people were smoking marijuana. He didn't have a problem with people taking it. He knew Leah smoked the painkiller to help relive her back pain she'd gotten from a car accident during the Decimation. It had nearly paralyzed her. He glanced up at the grandfather clock to see the time and was astonished to see it was 2:30 AM in the morning. He saw a young woman with silver hair that had pink highlights at the front, and she came over to greet Maria. So she was using an alias to keep her real identity a secret? On that he didn't blame her. If Thaddeus Ross found out that there was another survivor of the Red Room aside from Natasha and Yelena, then things would get ugly. He would check in with Steve, Sam, and Wanda along with the others tomorrow. He went to say goodbye to Sharon and Maria, and found them talking to Conrad Mack, his girlfriend Jeannette and Melissa. "You heading off, Yakov?" Conrad asked amused. The Russian mobster had a cat that he was fiercely protective of. God help the idiot who tried to hurt it. They'd have the White Wolf hunting them down, like John Wick. "Tired from the flight. The party was wonderful Sharon. And it was lovely to meet you, Maria," he said smoothly, kissing Sharon on the left cheek. She flushed, chuckling a bit. Deep down Bucky hoped Sam wouldn't get upset about that. He knew there was something brewing between the two. He smiled at Maria, shaking her hand. He could smell her perfume from where he was. It smelt of lilies, red roses, and cherry blossoms. "I hope to see you again, Yakov," Maria said softly. He smiled at her as he watched her go inside and got onto his bike before taking off.

Steve, Sam, Wanda, Clint and T'Challa were in the conference room with Fury looking over the photos. They had been taken by Bucky when he had been at Sharon's art gallery. "Ok, so I've identified most of the guests at the party. Conrad Mack also known as the Smiling Tiger, was there with his fiancé, Jeanette Deveraux. Now, believe it or not, his criminal record isn't that bad. He sells marijuana to people on low incomes, and he is an arms dealer, but he sells weapons to Algeria, where there is a civil war going on due to the former prime minister coming back and trying to make a dictatorship," Amy explained patiently. "What about the chick with the gorgeous breasts and pink highlights? Did our Manchurian Candidate I.D. her as well?" Tony asked rudely, causing most of the team to stare at him in disgust at his cruel jibe towards Bucky. "Stark, don't call Bucky that. It's insensitive and unkind," Sam said firmly, before Steve could speak in defense of his friend. Tony had becoming very unkind towards Bucky since he had joined the Avengers. Tony started laughing at Sam's words, an expression of disbelief, contempt and disgust on his face. "Oh I'm sorry, Wilson - or wait is it Captain America? You think I shouldn't be unkind and insensitive to the bastard who strangled my mother to death and is the reason the team broke up?!" he shouted angrily, slamming his fist on the table. The piece of furniture rattled violently, and Peter squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "It wasn't Bucky's fault, Mr. Stark. He is as much as a victim of HYDRA as were your parents," T'Challa said compassionately, but firmly to the man. "I don't care. He killed my goddamn mother! Because of Barnes and the man who I call father, I lost my mother, and Rogers had the nerve not to tell me!" Tony raged, his face turning red with anger. "When could I tell you, Tony?" Steve asks. "I didn't know if Zola was telling the truth at the bunker, and everything was a mess. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, sooner. Truly, I am. But you wouldn't answer my calls after retiring from the Avengers and the Accords happened," he reasoned calmly, trying to keep his temper. "Barnes should be rotting in the Raft or be fucking dead. He's a murdering, sociopathic bastard who ruined my life! He's the reason why Morgan doesn't have a grandmother!" Steve's hands turn to fists, but he refuses to yell. He wouldn't stoop so low as to lose his temper. So instead, he stands, aiming at him. "You don't think that Bucky feels that every day? You don't think he hasn't apologized and tried to make amends with every damn person he's hurt in the past? If anything, you don't even have the right to talk, because you've had so many people that you have hurt in the past as well. Do you deserve to be rotting away?" "You want to know everything I've done for this organization? For this country? I know that we've hurt others and we've tried to redeem that by singing the Accords and trying to make things right! Barnes was a literal psychopath that, just because we choose to believe what the Wakandans did, he's out there right now just living when he could snap at any moment!" T'Challa raises an eyebrow. "Are you questioning the power of Wakandan technology?"

Tony sighs and raises a hand to T'Challa. "I have nothing against you or your power, your highness. Your tech is great. My issue is with the current former assassin that is on the streets!"

"Will you two sit down!" Fury snaps angrily, causing the two of them to let out a puff of anger before doing so. "I know that you two don't get along but for the love of God get your damn selves together, because if don't figure out what is going on, then we might have another fucking breach." He angrily waves his hand. "Tony, the rest of your team head out and do a bit more research on Madripoor. Steve, called up Barnes and get more info. And when we get back, you two act like fucking adults."

"Yes, sir," was a collective muttered response.

Steve saw Tony glare at him before getting up, heading out with the others. Steve goes to talk to him but feels someone reach out to him, and he turns to see Wanda, shaking her head.

"It's not worth it," she says softly.

Steve sighs before running a hand along the back of his head, and turning around. "You're right." He looks to Sam and Wanda, who then he nods towards the meeting room. "Let's go call up Bucky."

#bucky barnes fanfiction #dark bucky barnes/oc #eventual dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes/original female character #steve rogers/natasha romanoff

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jtargaryen18 · 5 years

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Master List (August 2, 2024)

I write about MCU characters, their actors, and their various characters outside the MCU.

* NSFW/Explicit Content ~ # Series ~ ^ One-shot

New! House of Shadowed Roses Chapter 1^#

New! His Inheritance: Renewal Chapter 34^#

Avenger Tales

Claiming the Queen*# (Reader x ?) In Progress (MCU x GoT crossover)

Dance Hall Days*^ (Steve Rogers x Reader) Complete

Fill Me Up*^ (Steve Rogers x Reader) Complete

How Blue, How Beautiful*# (Steve Rogers x Nebula) Complete

How to Dismantle Steve Rogers*^ (Steve Rogers x Reader) Complete

The Little Things That Give You Away*# (Pre-Serum Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes AU) Complete

Loki’s Holiday Lesson*^ (Loki x Reader x Bucky Barnes AU) Complete

Lost Boy’s Life*^ (Pre-Serum Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes AU) Complete

My Winter Romance: Helena *# (Bucky Barnes x Reader) In Progress

One Night With You*# (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Complete

Pyramania*# ~ Pyramania (Bucky Barnes x OC) Complete + Sign of Fire (Steve Rogers x OC) In Progress

The Shape of My Heart*# (Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x OC) In Progress

Dark Avenger Tales

Innocence Series

All Heaven in a Rage*# (Steve Rogers x Reader) Complete

Waves That Beat on Heaven’s Shore*# (Bucky Barnes X Reader) In Progress

Other Titles

Bad Intentions*# (Tony Stark x Reader) Complete

Clint’s Seaside Christmas*^ (Clint Barton x Reader) Complete

Dancer in the Dark*# (Steve Rogers x Reader) Complete

Dark Commander*# (Dark Steve Rogers x Reader) In Progress

A Gentle Frost*# (Steve Rogers x Reader) In Progress

His Inheritance*# (Mobster Steve Rogers x Reader) In Progress

Misled*# (Steve Rogers x Reader) Complete

Project Venus*# (Steve Rogers x Reader) In Progress

Someone You Loved*# (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Complete

Stand Alones

Barber & Weiss*# (Andy Barber x Reader x Mike Weiss) In Progress

Black Invitation*^ (Werewolf!Ransom Drysdale x Reader) Complete

Darkness on the Edge of Town*# (Charles Blackwood x Reader) Complete

Dynamite & Whiskey*# (Andy Barber x Reader) Complete

Final Girl*^ (Robert Pronge/Mr. Freezy x Reader) Complete

A Gentleman and a Scholar*# (Bryce Langley x Reader (Finn!Female)) In Progress

Getting Clean*# (Mike Weiss x Reader) In Progress

Hot Girl Bummer*# (Jake Jensen x Reader) Complete

Jealous Guy*# (Chris Evans x Reader) In Progress

Johnny Storm and the Blizzard*# (Johnny Storm x Reader) In Progress

Midnight in the Garden of Evil *# (Charles Blacwood x Reader) Complete

Naughty Ransom Holiday Tales*# (Ransom Drysdale x Reader (Marta’s sister)) In Progress

Out of Darkness*# (Curtis Everett x Reader) In Progress

Pretty Baby*# (Robert Pronge aka Mr. Freezy (The Iceman) x Reader) In Progress

Tonight I’m Yours*# (Ari Levinson x Reader) Complete

Randomness/Asks

The Aphrodisiac*^ (Steve Rogers x Reader) Complete

The Intern*^ (Mike Weiss x Reader) Complete

Challenges

Dark Curtis Holiday Stories* December 2019

30 Days of Chris Stories* June 2020

4K Challenge Stories* August 2020

J’s Haunted House* October 2020

60 Days of Chris Stories* June-August 2021

Friday the 13th Flash Fiction* August 2021

Out of this World Halloween* October 2021

Concept art by Stitch Kingdom

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kayteewritessteve · 5 years

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Secrets and Sins - 3/13

Description: You flee from an abusive situation and find yourself on the other side of the country, creating new friends and possibly finding new love. But will you be able to escape your past? To truly move on with your life? Or will everything come crashing down around you in the blink of an eye?

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 4,180 ish.

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Violence. Drinking. Curse words. Brief mentions of abusive behaviour, and moments of abuse—nothing to in depth but could be upsetting to some. Plus possible other triggering thoughts and feelings described.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors.

FYI. I actually adore Sharon, SO MUCH. And hummed and hawed about just making an OC for this role, but it fits the story way better in a later chapter to use Sharon. So I apologize to the Sharon stans!!! Anywho, enjoy!!

Steve’s POV.

He found himself sitting on a white leather couch in the middle of a VIP section, in yet another loud ass club. His arms crossed over his chest and a few random girls trying to get, and keep, his attention. But he wasn’t having it. Not tonight. He wasn’t in the mood for annoying, scantily clad bimbos. They were dime a dozen in his world. And just as he’d drop one, 5 more would step up to take her place. To him woman were good for one thing, and one thing only. And once he had gotten that from them, he was done with them. He had yet to meet a woman that was worth his time, or effort. He was starting to believe such a woman probably didn’t exist. He knew he needed to marry, produce an heir so the mob could stay in his bloodline. So his position could stay secure. But he could barely stand keeping women around till morning, let alone for life.

The loud music was giving him a headache now. He fucking hated clubs, but being that this one was Tony’s newest endeavour, he figured he’d check it out, at least once. It was the least he could do after—well, after everything that Tony had done for him.

When Steve’s father was gunned down over what they assumed was a business deal gone wrong—but as no one had ever came forward to claim the murder, all they could do was assume, though they did have their suspicions as to who was behind it—he was too young to take over the reigns. So Tony stepped in to oversee everything in his place, along with his mother, as was decided. And together they kept the mob’s higher ups placated and prevented any successful hostile takeovers. Not that a few power hungry idiots didn’t attempt to overthrow Tony or Sarah, to take over the king’s position in what they thought was a moment of weakness, however none of those attempts were even close to successful. Tony had the backing of the majority, being that he had been Steve’s fathers right hand man for years. And because the mob was a dog eat dog world, there were always contingency plans in place, should a king be murdered. It had been agreed on when Steve was born that should anything happen before he was of age, Tony would step in, in the interim.

But when Steve was in his late teens, his mom was murdered in cold blood, taken out by the request of the NJ mob boss. Attempting to assert his dominance. His attempt however failed. Miserably.

The murder snapped something deep in Steve. Something dark. Instead of mourning her and cherishing her memories, his mind went directly to getting revenge on those accountable. Tracking them down with the help of Tony, one by one, and making them all suffer. Making them pay. Leaving the actual person who pulled the trigger and the NJ mob boss to the very last. He wanted them to know he was coming. To strike fear into them as they heard of the others involved slowly being taken out. The ones who were higher on the food chain then the hitman, and just as hard to track down as the boss. He wanted them to feel the same fear his mother did in her final moments.

His plan worked. By the time he reached the hitman on his kill list, he was a blubbering idiot. Begging for Steve to end him, pleading with him to do it fast. He granted him his wish. Two bullets to the head. Just like his mom. He could have made him suffer more, tortured him to the brink then brought him back, only to do it all over again. Like he had with the others. But he knew the man was hired for the job. Paid upon completion. He wasn’t the one that deserved Steve’s full anger. Hell, Steve had placed many hits throughout the years. More than he could count. But he remembered every one, vividly.

No hit was ever placed without serious thought, and solid evidence. He may have given the command to take someones life, but each hit still weighed on his conscious, on his soul. Like little black marks or splattered ink on a page. He would always carry them around with him. Wherever he went.

But as for when he finally tracked down the NJ mob boss, the very last person on his list. Well, that was a different story. He didn’t get mercy. He didn’t get a quick death. No, Steve made him suffer the worst out of any of them. But that’s a dark story for another day.

Which brings us back to why Steve was currently in this loud ass club. Why he felt he owed it to Tony to be present tonight—

He felt a hand on his forearm and turned his head to see Sharon staring back at him. Attempting to coo something in his ear. He grabbed her wrist and removed her hand from his arm, forcefully. He was not in the mood for her tonight. She took a special kind of mindset to handle her bullshit and right now he was not in that place. He was not interested. Once he released her arm she jerked it away and into her chest, cradling it as if it were broken. She was always so fucking dramatic.

Sharon was a crown chaser, through and through. She had flung herself at Steve the second he was in full power. And assumed she’d win him over due to their close family connections. But boy was she wrong.

Now that’s not to say that he had never taken her up on her offers a few times, because he had, she was very beautiful after all. When she kept her mouth shut. But the odd tryst here and there was all it ever was or ever would be, he wasn’t stupid enough to let it go any further then that. Though she had an ungodly annoying habit of just popping up wherever he was. In her mind they were pretty much engaged, however, that was definitely not the case. And never, ever would be.

He glared at her in warning before standing up and walking towards the banister overlooking the club. Deciding to people watch for a bit. He knew he just had to stay for a little longer, keep up appearances, then he could leave this loud ass club and retreat back to his office to handle more important matters. But then something bright red entering the club caught his eye, he knew hair like that could only belong to one woman. Nat.

They hadn’t talked in years. Not since his mom’s funeral. They had grown up together, been inseparable. Her, Bucky, Sam and himself. But when Steve went off the deep end after his mom's death, they distanced themselves from each other. Mainly for her safety, as he was out for blood and their would be consequences for that. He couldn’t allow Nat to be one of the casualties in his war. She hadn’t taken that well, saying she could take care of herself, but he knew the truth. She was no match for the people he was going up against, the people he was pissing off. But she was to damn stubborn and bullheaded to understand that. So he made the choice for her, threatening her life if she ever so much as spoke to him again. She knew him well enough to believe him and heeded his warning. His threat. Though, unbeknownst to her, he always kept tabs on her, made sure that she was good, that she was safe.

He watched as she entered with 4 friends, looking them over slowly, 3 of them he knew from Thor’s pub, clearly a girls night out. But the 4th, she was new.

“Hey Boss, how’s the people watching?”

He turned his attention from the group of woman and came face to face with Bucky. His life long best friend, more so like a brother, and his second in command. The only person Steve truly trusted. Without a shadow of a doubt. Well, Bucky and Sam, but the latter couldn’t join them out tonight as he was performing a very important job for Steve.

“Nat’s here,” he jerked his jaw towards where she was, “looks like a girls night,” he smirked.

Bucky peered over the banister, narrowing his eyes. “Who’s she with?”

“Looks like the waitresses from the pub,” he turned to look towards them again, “though, I don’t recognize that 4th one.” He furrowed his brows. He knew everyone in this city. It was his city after all. And surely he would have noticed a woman that looked like her before.

“I swear I know her from somewhere,” Bucky piped up after a few minutes, “She looks oddly familiar. Do you want me to find out who she is?”

He shook his head “No, I’ll figure it out.”

“Well, if you want me to find out all you have to do is ask,” Bucky said with a smirk before he turned and walked away.

Steve didn’t acknowledge his offer, he just continued to people watch. When he looked to Nat’s table he saw she was sitting alone, which caused him to chuckle to himself. Classic Nat. Always refusing to have fun.

Then he began to wonder where the mystery woman had run off to. He searched through the crowd and his eyes landed on her, in her dark green dress, dancing her heart out with the other ladies. Every now and then some guy would try to dance with her but she would push them away or step away from them. And every time it would happen a snort would escape him, he was enjoying watching every new guys failed attempt. Amateurs. He scoffed internally. Clearly she was not interested in any male attention tonight. At least, not yet, anyways.

After a while he saw her heading to the bar, he watched as she slowly began looking around. He knew her eyes would eventually land on him, but he was not a bashful man. He would very openly stare at whatever or whoever he wanted. Whenever he wanted. This was his city, after all. When her eyes finally landed on him she paused completely. He could see her checking him out and that caused an involuntary smirk to form on his lips. But then she abruptly turned to face the bar again. Oh, shy are we?

That was it for him. He had to know who she was and he always got what he wanted. He made his way down the stairs and through the crowd, which wasn’t hard as people normally gave him a wide berth. It was like parting the red sea where ever he went. Just as he was reaching the bar he saw her turn and head back towards her table.

He closed the distance and was just about to tap her on the shoulder when some fuckhead, drunk of his ass, was pushed by a buddy into her. Steve quickly reacted and reached out to grab her, preventing her from hitting the ground. He glared menacingly at the guys responsible and watched as their eyes widened upon seeing him. Then he stood her back up, making eye contact with one of his guys standing near a side wall and jutting his chin out to the drunk fucks. Receiving a nod in response he turned his attention back to her, just as she spun around to face him.

She just stood there, staring up at him before shaking her head and speaking. Though he couldn’t hear the words, he knew it was most likely a ‘thank you’. She looked flustered either by what had just happened or by his presence. Maybe she knew who he was. Would be hard for her to not know who he was, given his position here. And that they were very much currently on his turf.

He leaned forward and whispered, “You’re very welcome,” in her ear. Noticing the slight shiver that ran down her. He stood back up straight, staring at her once again.

Something about her drew him in, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. His eyes travelled her face, taking in every detail. He could tell, even from far away, that she was beautiful but being up close, right in front of her, she was breathtaking. His eyes landed on her lips and for the first time, in a very long time, he felt heat rise in his face, all the way to his ears. Mob bosses don’t blush. He snapped his eyes back up to hers, curious if she could see the tint on his cheeks. He was sure she couldn’t. Not in the dim lighting of the club.

She opened her mouth as if to speak before closing it again and instead nodded at him. Then she began to move around him, he turned as she did, curiously keeping a close eye on her. Waiting to see what she’d do next. Once she was on the other side of him, she took a few steps back then waved. Making him laugh at how awkward she seemed. It was fucking adorable, to say the least.

She then turned and damn near bolted towards the bar, obviously needing to replace her lost drinks. He glanced up at the VIP section, seeing Bucky standing at the banister with a shit eating grin on his face. Clearly getting a kick out of all of this. Steve shook his head then decided to make his way over to her, yet again. Like he was going to actually let her get away that easily.

He saw her standing off to the side of the bar, and walked up directly behind her. Raising his left hand to signal the bartender, who turned, saw him and quickly made his way towards them. Just as the bartender reached them, he noticed her slowly starting to turn around, causing a smirk to form on his lips as she finally fully faced him. Realizing he was now behind her. The look on her face led him to believe she was not expecting him to be standing there, seeing her visibly gulp confirmed that thought.

She looked like she was about to pass out, so he stepped up beside her, causing her to turn towards the bar again and put his hand on her lower back, just in case she did actually faint. He had already stopped her from hitting the floor once tonight, what was a second time?

With one more quick glance down at her he was sure she would manage to stay upright for now so he leaned in towards the bartender, “My usual, and the two drinks this woman just ordered,” The bartender nodded his response then quickly turned around to start making the drinks.

He stood back up and looked down, seeing her eyes closed and feeling her release a deep breath as she opened them again. Clearly he was in fact flustering her. And he liked that.

Most woman oozed fake confidence with him. They played this act that they were tough, confident. That their shit didn’t stink. Their words always seemed so scripted, their reactions derived entirely off his own. They were blunt and to the point. And most of the time they wouldn’t show any hint of being flustered, as they knew exactly what he would give them—or more accurately, what they would get from him. It was just sex. And they all knew it. They weren’t foolish enough to think he’d date them, let alone marry them. Though a few had tried to build those things with him, over the years, but he wasn’t interested. Marriage was a business deal to him, and as of now he had yet to meet a deserving partner. Or one that brought something to the table. Money, turf, businesses, whatever. Like he said, it was solely a business deal to him. Nothing more, nothing less.

Once the drinks were in front of them he swore he could see the wheels in her head turning. She looked up at him and the confusion was written all over her face, but only for a moment, then he watched as her cheeks tinted pink. Glad they were near the bar, where the lighting was a little better, or he may have missed it entirely. And the sight of it made his heart flutter, just for a moment. That was a feeling he wasn’t used to anymore, as he hadn’t felt that in a long, long time.

“So, what do I owe you?” She piped up and he could hear the shakiness in her voice.

“Owe me?” He asked, utterly taken aback by her question. Which was a first for him.

“Yes,” she nodded, “for the drinks.” She said slowly as you pointed to them.

To say that surprised him was an understatement, he’d bought the drinks for her, he didn’t order them expecting her to pay him back. That’s not how these things worked. Woman never questioned that with him. This girl was different and something in him wanted to know just how different. “A date,” he responded.

But then her reaction was, again, not one he was used to. She actually laughed and shook her head. Was she turning him down? No one had even turned him down. But then she froze and her eyes widened in shock while her mouth hung open slightly, “Oh, you’re serious?”

Obviously she thought he was joking, this girl was far too innocent for her own good. Something about that made him happy. It was like seeing a unicorn in real life.

In the world he lived in, innocence was not a thing. One couldn’t hold on to those sorts of traits here. At least not for long. They’d quickly get beaten out of you. Every person he had ever come into contact with always had an iron shell, but they had to, their safety depended on it. But this woman, she was clearly untouched by the cruelty of his world. That thought made the weird flutter in his chest happen again. He leaned in, right next to her ear and whispered, “I don’t normally joke about those sorts of things,” before standing back up.

“Ah, well, I um, I.” she stumbled out. He was really starting to enjoy how easily he could tongue tie her. Just how much of an effect he had on her—feeling her movement out if his touch broke him out of his thoughts. She was distancing herself from him and he didn’t like it.

“Ah, what I mean is, thank you for the offer but I’ll have to respectfully decline. I can pay you for the drinks though …if you’d like.” She offered.

He raised his hand and shook his head. Like he was going to allow her to pay him back. Once again, not how this worked. And ‘respectfully decline’? Clearly she didn’t actually know who he was.

“In that case, thank you for these,” she lifted up her two drinks, as if presenting them to him, “Enjoy your night!” She quickly said before turning to leave. But he wasn’t done with her yet, the thought of her walking away again, upset him for some odd reason so he reached out and gently grabbed her forearm. Preventing her from leaving and attempting to turn her back around. She did so, willingly. Maybe she didn’t want this interaction to end just yet, either.

Not only did he not want it to end, but he was also still curious about her. About her story. He leaned in again so she could hear him over the music. “One question,” he saw her nod for him to continue in the corner of his eye, “Why have I never seen you before?”

She pulled back and he removed his hand off her forearm. ”Oh, so you know every person in this city, huh?” She responded with one eyebrow raised. Yup, she has no clue who I am. But the slight sass in her tone made him inwardly laugh. She just continued to peak his interests with every passing second. He felt the smirk form on his face, this time entirely on it‘s own. He nodded, “You could say that.”

“Well, clearly not.” She sassed, “Or you’d know who I was.”

“What’s your name, doll?” He blurted out before he could stop himself. Shit. What is this girl doing to him? He had to know who she was. The curiosity was too much for him. He could swear he saw about 5 different emotions pass through her eyes before she finally said, “Find me again one day and I’ll tell you,” then she spun around and walked away. Rather quickly, might he add.

He watched her move away from him and something in him didn’t enjoy that sight. Not one fucking bit. But he let her go this time, he knew he’d be able to track her down again. And if the ladies she was with tonight were any indication of where she worked, then he knew exactly where he’d find her.

He turned back to see Bucky still standing up there watching him, this time shaking his head. Steve raised a hand, signalling for Bucky to come down and join him. Knowing he would have something to say about what just happened, but there was something they both needed to handle.

He turned back to look in the direction she had gone then finished his drink and put the empty glass on the bar. Turning just as his friend approached him, motioning for Bucky to follow him out a side door.

“Did the Rogers charm fail you this time?” Bucky joked with a cocky grin once they exited the loud club. He chose to ignore that question and continued down the alleyway. “Because that was painful to watch.” Bucky then added with a chuckle.

Steve paused then turned to his friend, “She was different,” he said thoughtfully.

Bucky furrowed his brows in confusion “What do you mean ‘different’?”

“I can’t explain it. She was just, different” he shrugged.

“Well you got her number, yeah?” Bucky asked.

Steve shook his head.

“Okay, but you at least know her name now, right..”

Steve scrunched up his nose but didn’t answer and just abruptly started to walk again. Not missing Bucky’s jaw damn near hitting the ground before he quickly ran to catch up to Steve and shook his head, “You have lost the Rogers charm, Boss.”

“In my defence, I asked her for her name—”

“And yet you still don’t know it?” he cut him off then laughed, “Oh man, that’s rich.”

“Shut up, James,” he growled.

“Okay, okay. Damn, no need for the first name. But I’m disappointed in you, Rogers.” he shook his head again.

“Please. Not once have I ever been turned down before,” he paused again to turn to his friend with a wicked grin, “What’s your rejection count at these days, jerk?”

Bucky’s right arm flew up to clutch at his chest as if he had been fatally wounded, “That cuts deep, punk.”

Steve just rolled his eyes. “You’re so fucking dramatic.” they both laughed.

Bucky and Sam were the only people who could get away with talking to him like this. They were the only people who ever got to see this side of Steve. The only ones he could just relax around and joke about life with. No one else could see him like that, not without risking them thinking he was their friend, instead of their boss. But Bucky and Sam respected that there was a time and a place for it, they knew when they could poke and when to step back. And they’d never poke in front of others. Only when it was just them, alone. Respect is huge in their world. And disrespect could get you killed.

“Well, since we have established you’ve lost your touch with the ladies, where are we heading?”

“First off, fuck you,” He growled, “Secondly, we have a couple punks to deal with,” he answered as they rounded the corner to find a few of Steve’s henchmen holding on to two guys, both looking just about ready to shit their damn pants. That made Steve smirk, “We have to teach these guys some manners.” He finished coldly. His entire demeanour instantly shifting back into Boss Mode. He took off his suit jacket and handed it to one of his men, before rolling up his sleeves to his elbows and undoing the top 2 buttons of his shirt.

Bucky leaned in to whisper, “Wait, are these the same dudes from earlier?”

Steve nodded, “The ones that knocked her over, yes.”

Bucky just stared at him for a moment before shaking his head and whispering again, more to himself, “Oh man, you got it bad.”

He shot his right hand man a glare in response before he turned his attention to the two fuckheads. He clapped his hands together once with a menacing grin on his face, “Alright guys, here’s what’s gunna happen…”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

@hopefulmoonobject @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tessvillegas @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts

#au fanfiction #fanfiction #long post #long read #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #mobster au #mobster!steve #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #Secrets and Sins #chapter 3 #no super powers here #unless you count a deadly smirk as a super power?

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umathurman2 · 5 years

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MAFIA DOGS - 1

Synopsis: Ishii Ishikawa is an infamous yakuza boss of the 1940′s, whose goal is to succeed where her mother failed - in business, in life, in love. She is willing to go through anyone to come out the better, even if that person is her soulmate, American mobster, Bucky Barnes. MAFIA AU, SOULMATE AU, BUCKY X OC

First time posting a fic on Tumblr. Bear with me while my formatting and links stay messy for a couple of weeks lol. All fics posted on FF.net under colouredred. Will link later.

Please read and enjoy.

mafia dogs masterlist

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MAFIA DOGS. ONE.

The woman buying out Sergeant’s extensive hotel empire was a bitch in a Dior dress and Mary Jane shoes. She owned any room she walked into, and it wasn’t all because of her diamond-tier inheritance. Black hair hung straight and sleek to her waist. Her hands lay across the arms of her velvet chair, where she sat tall and elegantly draped. Her ankles were slender and exposed, and her neck arched back as she shot champagne like sake. The other hand, by her side, kept a firm grip on the black sheath of a Kinamon-original sword. She who had power of death, commanded the living more than money and beauty ever did.

Her reputation did not precede her. In her homeland of Japan, the casino would have nearly emptied itself at her presence. The hotel managers would have been rushed downstairs from their office, throwing themselves into deep bows, until she grew annoyed enough to tell them to stop. Her entourage would have been seven body guards, a chauffeur, and a personal assistant.

In America, the gamblers gambled on. Music played not to the tune of whatever she preferred, but to the jazz beats of the 1940s. She was afforded only one attendant, who was of course handpicked and her most trusted confident. In some ways, Kishi Kiyamoto was more fearsome than even her boss was. She dressed in a completely forward-fashion suit, with high-rise pants and a fitted jacket long enough to hide the weapons she used in her position as bodyguard. Being muscular and scowling and scarred down her right cheek, she was masculine in the ways of social rejects.

The two of them attracted their share of side-eyes and odd looks. It bothered Kishi more, who ground her teeth and found her fingers twitching. She only stilled when a glass of champagne was pressed into her hand, and downed in one, swift go.

“Arigatō, bosu.” Kishi shifted on the spot, and then placed the glass back on the polished dining table before them. Her worn spot against the wall was taken up again, where Kishi could watch the casino-goers all around. “Anata wa kinchō shite imasu ka?” she asked.

“It is polite to speak the foreign tongue in their country,” the other woman replied, “…And I am not nervous. I have already decided to tear out the bar, open up the floor so performers can play, though they cannot have music like we do.”

“Ippantekina inu.”

She smiled, and touched a hand to her cheek. “Call him a dog to his face.”

“I will, boss,” Kishi said, and nodded across the crowd, “Sergeant is here, now.”

The two women looked from their seat through the casino. Glittering, glass chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling. Games of poker and luck were dotted across the tiles, and attended to by patrons in glittering dresses and expensive suits, with gold jewellery to complement their reckless tastes. Though the people were thick, they parted ways for a group of men in black suits. Through the jazz and the air thick with smoke, they moved with an ominous air. Dark, brooding, all tall and threatening, though she was the one with the sword at her side.

She stood to great them, and was rigid as their boss stepped forward from the pack. He was tall and well-built, with a handsome face and grey eyes. She met him nearly level in height, and did not look down nor bow. His lips teased a smile, and without invitation, he took her free hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles – “A pleasure to be meeting you, Miss Ishikawa.”

“Yakuza inu,” Kishi spat, offending the suits without them knowing what she had said.

“-A traditional greeting in Japan,” Ishii Ishikawa excused her bodyguard, “Among our kind, at least – please, sit.”

“In my own hotel?” replied the man, “Don’t mind if I do.”

They took their seats and he took his glass of whiskey. Kishi squared off with his four bodyguards, whom she was more than capable of taking on if she wanted to. Ishii’s approach was subtler, and involved a sip of champagne, a firm grip on the sheath of her sword still. She leaned back in the chair, and waited for New York’s top dog to take a bite of her. In their world, on this soil, Sergeant James Barnes was the force to be reckoned with.

“You don’t dispute that it’s my hotel,” he said next.

Ishii let the alcohol settle. “I do not need to dispute it.”

“Ya mean to stake your claim regardless of our back-and-forth?” He laughed, “Endearing, doll. Should we start on a bottle of red?”

Kishi stepped forward to stop one of his men from pouring another glass. “Boss does not drink that crap.”

James Barnes leaned back in his seat, waving the wine away. “Sorry to hear it. Can I get ya anything else to make ya more comfortable?”

“No, thank you. I feel right at home already,” Ishii declared, with an impersonal smile, “And I would like to get down to business quickly. Tell me your price for the hotel.”

“Tell me what you’re offering.”

“…Given the work I would have to do, I can offer you ten million.”

“Ten million?” Barnes arched his brows, leaned forward, and then leaned back with the same incredulity, “What work are ya talking about?”

“Without offending you, I am of course meaning the outdated lighting, the repainting of the walls, taking down the ceiling roses, though the most important change is moving the bar so you can have dancing, the right way,” Ishii replied, “A stage for some kabuki, or some Hattori-style bands.”

“We have dancing in America, Miss Ishikawa. That’s more offensive than any of the other defects you’ve listed about this hotel, which,” Barnes added firmly, “Is worth five times your offer.”

“Theft,” Kishi could not hold her tongue any longer, “If you have done research to know what boss can offer up, you would know your income from this building has been dropping, and so has the property in the area been valued less. You do not have heritage in this building, no history, no tradition, only fake gold chandeliers.”

Barnes fixed her with a chilling gaze, which she didn’t turn away from. Those men behind him seemed to lean forward, waiting for a command. He had a reputation for killing people for less, among all the other rumours of illegality chasing him. Ishii Ishikawa, with her sword, could not have stopped them from pulling a gun. He turned to study her, relaxed as ever in her chair, but with such a wicked glint in her eyes that he wondered if he was mistaken. Her father, the famous swordsmith Kinamon, was supposed to have stopped a bullet with his naked blade. Perhaps she had inherited that superhumanity. The effect of her freckled cheeks was inhuman, undoubtedly.

After a moment of consideration, he leant forward and made for the hand Ishii had placed on the table. Her other hand moved quicker, bringing the sheath of her sword to his chin swiftly. Sleek black forced him to look along the length of it, the gold embossing, the white hilt, the ribbon wrapped around it. It would have been remarkable to see it unsheathed, though not as it was now, tip to his neck. Ishii forced his head up, even though her eyes remained lower.

Barnes’ shirt hung open, loosely unbuttoned and low around his chest. On the inside of his right shoulder, a long slash of a birthmark ran the width of a rib. A soulmate marking. Pity the person who ended up with he, mob boss of New York, as their one-and-only.

“-A lover’s mark, don’t you think?” James Barnes remarked, an edge of flirtation in his voice. There was a sly look in his eyes that brought Ishii back to herself.

Of all possibilities for her soulmate to be, a lover was not one of them. “My own belongs to my rival.”

Barnes leant back in his seat again, and tugged up the collar of his shirt over a gold necklace. The bodyguards behind him relaxed again, and their hands left their suit pockets empty. Though a strange look passed between Ishii and himself, she was unshakeable. “…I was gonna ask ya dancing,” the mob boss explained, nearly laughing, “Ya seemed keen enough on the idea, though I suppose it’s informal by your standards. How about a tour instead, and I’ll show ya just why you can consider this a hundred-million-dollar investment, if ya can swing that?”

Ishii’s empire was more than just the hotels in her name, but two hospitals and a restaurant chain in her homeland. If Barnes hadn’t discovered those in his research, she was willing to let him play with the idea that a hundred-million was too much for her. She would love to see him offer a contract, and to snatch up his business out from under him. She had come to the States expecting underhanded tricks from American mobsters, and had prepared her own accordingly.

She agreed to the tour, and the two of them stood. Barnes offered his arm to her, which she refused. She preferred both hands free and on her sword. If he took offense, it didn’t show on his face, though scathing looks from the one blond, bodyguard that accompanied him let her know anyhow. Kishi gave him in equally fierce look, which cowed the man visibly. Even Barnes was amused by the dynamic, and made a teasing comment about it to them all. Ishii ignored it and redirected the conversation to the hotel amenities.

Barnes led her from the dining towards the bar, first, so he might order another drink. The bartender just about wet his pants upon serving him, to which Barnes told Ishii, “Happens every time.” He then led her to the poker tables, where he explained a little of the rules and leaned close to her to do so. She let the sword trade hands so it remained a barrier between their bodies, though it wasn’t able to ward off the heat. Kishi did her best to keep the cool, with a lot of icy stares thrown around.

Whenever he explained some detail of the casino to her, Ishii made sure to counter with a negative. They argued over aesthetics, on which he had surprisingly strong opinions, and all of which involved gaudy ideas. Ishii believed firmly in not taking shortcuts, and pointed out several of them around the hotel. No doubt, there were shadier going-ons backstage, a siphoning of money headed towards his pockets. Each remark of hers somehow became a flirtation on his tongue, a string of pet names and a way of standing around her that betrayed his personal intentions.

Ishii watched the way his neck moved as he shot back whiskey. When he lit a cigarette, his lips curved around it and shaped circles of smoke when he exhaled. When the tour came to the staff offices, he threw his suit jacket over his chair and rolled the sleeves of a crisp button up to the elbows. Barnes truly was the devil in New York.

Ishii remained constant over the course of the evening. Her Dior dress kept its shape, and her legs remained long in her evening heels. The ankle straps drew attention to the slenderness of her shape, her fair skin under stockings, perfect for kissing. Though Barnes’ casinos were known for ending rough with their customers, not one hair on her head was ever out of place. She walked untouched through American glamour, and only brushed her freckled cheeks twice with her hand. Kishi knew the gesture was meant to hide amusement, and hoped Barnes was too distracted by her constant beauty, constant rebuttal, constant affability, to notice. If Ishii stared to much at his chest and that preoccupied him too, it was good enough for Kishi.

“Well, if my business is as bad as ya say, what’s driving ya to come all the way out to America to buy it off me?” Barnes put the question to her, settling in behind his desk.

“…I like a challenge.”

“That’s it?”

Ishii nodded, and moved to the window to peer down the alley outside. She wondered about the murders that had happened in those gutters. “This business is my mother’s legacy, and she worked hard for it,” Ishii explained, “I am going to surpass her.”

“Ah, family are like our greatest enemies, as much as we love each other.” Barnes tapped the ash away from his cigarette, and continued lightly, “Just like soulmates, right? Two people absolutely made for one another, unless ya don’t happen to find each other – and then, they’re killing ya, sucking the feelings right from ya. I wouldn’t know whether to bow down to that kinda power over me, or kill ‘em for it. Though I’ll tell ya, when I do meet my soulmate, before there’s any kind of killing going on, first thing’s first – I’d fuck them with all the love I’ve been saving up.”

Ishii looked him in the eye as he made that declaration, and the words crawled up her cunt and into her bones. There was a sinful glint in his eyes, a knowing look. He was a man used to being on top, and who acted as though he had it all figured out. Those dark curls falling in front of his eyes were too innocent to be real.

“-So,” he added, right back to sweet-talking, “Maybe I can change your evaluation of my hotel if ya see the rooms themselves. Should we start with the penthouse?”

He had stood and offered his hand to her again. Though Ishii again hesitated to take it, he was insistent this time, and more patient than she realised.

“Boss,” Kishi began in warning.

Ishii accepted his hand knowing there would be other conditions with it. His pleased grin told her so. “I’m honoured,” he led her towards the door, where he turned back to Kishi and one of his own bodyguards, “Miss Ishikawa and I still have quite a bit of business to discuss. Set Miss Kiyamoto up with a room on the thirty-sixth floor so she might relax for a few hours.”

Ishii made a show of her sword so Kishi would not object any more in public. ‘Bodyguard’ did tend to creep into friendship where the two of them were concerned, and their familiarity had to be leashed when it came to business matters. There were no more arguments on either side to stop them, so Barnes was quick to lead her to the embellished doors on an elevator, where he assured her the contraption had been tested with the newly-invented automatic-braking system. Ishii didn’t care either way.

He showed her inside the room, which had mirrored walls around, above and below. The floor numbers were on gold buttons just inside of the doors. Barnes closed those metal doors before pressing the penthouse level. They stood a foot apart, looking ahead steadfastly. There was no music to fill the silence there, only the beating of her heart.

“-Show me your mark.”

Ishii was expecting the demand without pre-empt. She turned to face him with cool eyes, her tongue coming out to touch her lip.

Barnes took one step closer, his face twisting. “Show me your soulmate mark. Ya have too. You’ve been staring at mine since ya saw it, and I know ya recognised it. Show me – end my agony.”

Ishii’s fingers lay at the top of her dress. Black velvet was soft against her fingers, and rolled easily down her neck. Freckles ran across her collar bones, were spattered over her shoulder. The swell of her breasts teased him as she folded her dress lower, and lower, where a sliver of a birthmark sat just above her heart. Barnes took in her soulmate mark, as familiar to him as his own, because it was his own. His exact match stood before him in Ishii Ishikawa, his most enchanting business rival yet.

The elevator had reached the fifteenth floor now. Barnes covered the distance before they made it another level, and his hand curled around the back of her neck, crushing her up into a kiss. He did not hold back. He poured his every possessive instinct, his passion, his hatred, his adoration, into that kiss. Those feelings which had once faded from his memory returned in full force, completing him, as his soulmate kissed him back with fervour and force of equal measure. She wanted those emotions back too.

The elevator shuddered as it stopped at the penthouse floor. When those doors opened, the two of them were standing forward as they had been, and she was wiping smudged lipstick from her lips. Barnes was cool as he walked her to the penthouse door, taking the key from his pocket, letting her inside first.

He locked the door after them, and grabbed Ishii by the arm before she made it further than the hall. She hit a wall, he bearing down against her now, all composure gone as he stole another kiss from her. The sword in her hand fell to the floor. Her desire matched his, surpassed him, and Barnes fell to his knees.

“I have been waiting so long for ya,” he whispered, and clutched at her dress, ran his hands up her waist, “I’ve been looking so long for ya – soulmate.”

Her fingers twisted through his hair. Barnes was kissing her leg now, rolling her dress up as he went higher. Ishii could think of nothing to say under the onslaught of so much emotion. Really, he was already saying it best.

“You’re so beautiful, soulmate – how can it be you? I want to ravish ya, fuck ya until you can’t stand, give ya everything,” Barnes murmured, and had her dress above her panties so that he kissed her through the satin, “-I wanna make ya feel.”

Ishii managed to unzip her dress, pulling it over her head. His fingers twisted around her garter belt, the clips that held her stockings up, slipping her panties to the side so his tongue could tease her better. She grabbed his cheeks, pulling him up, kissing him until he understood he was meant to carry her to the bedroom. She took no notice of the apartment she intended to buy, other than what she saw of the white walls of the roof, the silk sheets beneath her in the dark. What she felt was his hands on her legs, breath on her stomach, lips kissing above and below her soulmate mark. There was a pressure in her chest she hadn’t felt for years, in a sense more than physical.

A cool blade pressed against her skin, erotic against her heatedness. “…Where was that hiding, Sergeant?”

He used the switchblade to cut through the satin on her underwear, laughing at her question. “Call me by my name,” he whispered, between her legs again, “Tell how much you want me.”

“I want you,” she breathed out, “I want you to kiss me, and fuck me, and make me feel, James.”

He knelt and stripped immediately, and rained down kisses over her. When she had him cradled to her breast, Ishii rolled across the bed, ending up on top and in charge. Her legs caged his hips, a hand spread across his chest, the other reaching below and positioning him teasingly below. She ground against his length, and drew a deep groan from him. His fingers tightened painfully on her thighs.

“How can ya be real?”

She thought about those words each time he entered her that night. She thought about the way he spoke them, with so much husk and longing that it curled around the ‘r’s of the words. In the desperation of his hard, long, sensual fucking, there was frustration too. How could she be real, freckles all the way from her cheeks to the lips of her pussy? Hair so impossibly long and soft as true silk, so different from the imitations he outfitted hotel beds with. Legs that tightened around his hips, that turned white where he held them, that shook when he took her from behind. The stockings and garter belt were cute, and the heels were fun, but his world only rocked when she came by his hand, her own fingers twisted in his bed sheets.

And how could the tightness in his stomach be real? His head was light and filled with laughter, and he never laughed. He made fun, and he charmed, and he teased, but he never felt joy the way he had as a child. His boyhood returned to him that night, too, in memories of toys and bikes downhill in city streets, and the streetlight shining was the same he had once slept under out on the street. He was young and happy and had no blood on his hands, that night – and that could not be real. Sergeant James Barnes was an American-made killer.

Ishii fell sated and full of feeling into bed beside him. Like a mantra, she whispered, “How can you be real?”

Barnes rolled over and pulled her close, kissing her roughly and stroking her hair until her eyes were heavy and closing on their own. She fell asleep there, and he didn’t want to wake her, see her leave. Before joining her in dreaming, Barnes slipped off her heels and pulled the covers over them.

Likes always, his sleep was fitful and he woke early, as soon as those early morning rays were coming in through the open curtains. He turned one way, and then the other, so that he was looking at Ishii directly. His heart stopped again – thinking of when he’d said, “I’ve been looking so long for ya, soulmate,” – as he realised it was one thing to face a person in the dark and another in the morning afterwards.

She was still as enchanting to him as she had been when he had spotted her across the casino, but it was in a different way. She wasn’t defensive like before. There was no sword in sight. Her hair was mussed up, and her lipstick rubbed away. The nakedness of her shoulders and back was unguarded. He had to face her not as a business rival, and not as a faceless soulmate, but as a woman named Ishii.

She woke slower than he, and he enjoyed watching her. She stretched like a cat, and yawned like one too. Her morning ritual was to stare up at the roof and its ornate ceiling rose.

“…Ishi.”

She did not blink. “You are saying it wrong.”

Barnes propped himself up to look down at her. “Can’t I call ya by a nickname?”

“No,” she replied, and slid quickly out of bed. She found her underwear torn in two on the floor, and so skipped that and went straight for her shoes. “We are strangers,” she said.

“We’re soulmates, doll.”

She rounded on the bed and knelt over him as she had last night, pushing him down with one hand. Her garter belt and stockings were all she had on, and Barnes found his face hot once again. “I have said to you my soulmate will be my rival,” Ishii explained, “You have said – you said you would fuck them first, and we have done that – so you must move on to killing me, and we can be comfortable with that arrangement, because I will be in Japan in two weeks, after we close this deal – and there, a whole mob of yakuza will be waiting to take your head if our rivalry should end with a single scratch on me.”

Her brown eyes were not warm nor cold, but impersonal in a way he resented. Barnes retaliated by remaining naked as he followed her out of the bedroom and into the penthouse. The rooms beyond were open plan and flowed circularly. It was by far, more lavish than the casino downstairs. Ishii took this in, and then found her dress in the hall.

“These rooms add value to the property – I will think about raising my offer,” Ishii remarked, and then turned away from Barnes, “Zip me.”

He did so, then wrapped a hand around her waist so she was pressed against him. “I had ya speaking in tongues, doll,” he whispered into her ear, lips against her skin, “And I want my soulmate, so don’t go thinking this is the end of it.”

He released her a moment later. Ishii went straight for her sword, and then to the door. She turned and faced him one last time, to say, “We will be in contact to discuss the price of the hotel in a few days.” She walked out of there with her Dior dress and Kinamon-brand sword, a reclamation of the title; bitch.

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#bucky x reader #bucky x oc #bucky x ofc #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #fic #mafia dogs

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lilhemmo · 7 years

Text

gunpowder & silk

Summary: Riley runs a tailoring shop. Mr. Barnes runs the mob.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC Rated: T+ Word Count: 1,807 Prompt: i’m the tailor who always makes/hems your nice clothes but i don’t know that you’re a mobster so why are the police barging in here Part: 1/?

A/N: let me know if you want a part two!!! i’m really hoping to get back into writing, starting with these easy prompts!!! feel free to send me some, and give the masterlist a little love xx

The soft feeling of fur brushes against her cheek. She rolls over, swatting her hands at the ball of fluff known as Toulouse.

“C’mon,” she groans, wiping her eyes, “it’s too early for this.”

The familiar purring vibrates the back of her neck to the point of tickling, and she giggles as she sits up. “You’re a brat, Toulouse,” she sighs, watching as the dark color of her skin contrasts with his pale orange fur. “But, we don’t want to disappoint the clients, now do we?”

She stands up, tossing the cheap cotton sheets off of her body. It’s a short walk to the bathroom from her bed, and she grabs a towel along the way. The steam from the shower gets the wrinkles out of her shirt as it hangs on the backside of the bathroom door. The entire room smells of fruity shampoo as soon as the bottle opens, but she loves the scent that lasts all day.

“All right, Toulouse,” she stoops down to pet the cat she’s been roommates with for three years now, “I’ll see you tonight. Don’t eat all the peanut butter.”

After pressing a kiss to the cat’s head, she grabs her cardigan and walks out the front door. The lock takes some jiggling to be sure no one can walk in and take her most prized possessions - chocolate sent from Europe via her sister and the blanket she bought while over on a trip to Haiti.

The walk down the stairs and up the block is something akin to freedom. The brisk autumn chill that always comes in October to Kingston has begun a little early this year. The leaves began falling weeks ago, creating that beautiful fall aesthetic that she adores so much.

She waves to the falafel vendor as she passes him, same as she does every morning on her way to work, and the man who cooks funnel cakes always gives her his first sample of the day. She stops at the coffee truck that no one loves enough and hands him four dollars in exchange for the best caramel macchiato in all of New York.

It’s about five more minutes to the shop from Cup-A-Joe’s coffee truck, and she takes her time in getting there. She’s always ten minutes early, unlocking the front door with her key she keeps on the loop in her purse.

“Good morning,” she calls out as she shuts the door behind her. Immediately her thick jacket is shed off of her body, leaving her only with the cardigan as a protectant against the cool breeze that will float in through the door as customers come and go.

A wild head of dark hair pops out from behind the back closet, “Hey Riley!”

“Hey Elise,” Riley returns with a grin, readjusting her purse across the front of her body. She turns on the register, leaning the front of her abdomen against the desk it’s sat on top of. Elise walks in as she’s putting her hair up, “You’ve got a new client today.”

“New client?” Riley runs a test transaction through the system to make sure the receipts will be printed correctly. The mechanical sound whirs simultaneously with the bell at the front door. Riley leans her head around to glance at Elise, “I thought it was locked?”

Elise purses her lips together and they watch as a tall blonde enters the room. Riley’s immediate assessment is that he’s tense; his muscles are coiled and his hands are curled into fists at his side. She offers him a warm smile, and her greeting is interrupted by another female voice.

“Geez, Rogers, you’re so edgy it’s making me nauseous.”

Riley takes a step back as a redhead saunters into the room. Her body is clad with black jeans and laced up boots that meet her knees. On her torso, a jean jacket is wrapped around her curves, the belt laced underneath her breasts. She’s beautiful, that much is sure.

She pulls down the sunglasses rested on the bridge of her nose, “You need to stop thinking everyone is out to get you.”

The blonde who Riley presumes is Rogers lowers his voice and narrows his eyes at the woman standing to his left. “It’s my job to be paranoid, Romanoff. You should be too.”

She shrugs, “We’re getting his suit tailored, calm down.” Romanoff brings her sleeve up to her mouth and mumbles something RIley can’t make out into the cuff of her shirt. She nods to Rogers, “He’s walking up.”

“Hello,” Riley walks forward, forcing her hand out in a welcoming gesture. She smiles, “I heard I was getting a new client today, not his entire entourage. Who are you?”

The redhead cuts her eyes at Rogers, “I like her.” She smirks, “My name is Natasha, but everyone calls me Nat. This is Steve.” She squeezes Riley’s hand affectionately before retracting. “The guy you’re tailoring goes by Mr. Barnes. Please don’t call him anything else.”

Riley looks back and forth between the two standing in front of her, a dark brow raised. “All right,” she smacks her hands together, “are there any other voodoo rituals I should be warned about beforehand?”

“Yeah,” the doorbell rings again and she looks across the room at a dark-haired man with his hair pulled back, “Mr. Barnes is a lot nicer than these two idiots make him out to be.”

He reaches his hand out and with a warm smile the two of them shake hands. Riley nods, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes.” The man returns the gesture and grins at her in return. Nodding his head, he looks over to Romanoff and Rogers, “Why don’t you two find yourselves a seat away from Miss Riley so you can stop bugging her.”

Riley chuckles, shaking her head, “They weren’t doing any harm, Mr. Barnes. There’s a bench right outside of my station that they’re welcome to.”

Both of the bodyguards look between one another in silent disbelief. They follow behind RIley as she guides Mr. Barnes to a room behind the cash register table.

Rogers leans over in his partner’s ear, “Did she just correct him?”

“I think she did,” Natasha responds, a slight smirk etched into her features. “I really like her.”

They follow suit and sit down on the small padded bench just outside of the tailoring room. Overall it is cozy; the room is warm colors and filled to the brim with clothes and measuring utensils, all in unique, orderly disarray. Riley has a tape measure thrown over her shoulder, her cardigan still tugged snug against her chest.

“So, what’re you looking for today, Mr. Barnes?” she asks, folding her legs in a deft way as she falls to the floor with grace. Her smile and the speed at which she does what she does makes his head cock to the side in questioning. Surely Odinson didn’t send him to a witch, did he?

She smiles, tucking a stray wiry curl behind her ear, “Are we just taking measurements, am I prepping something for you, are we looking at fabric?”

Mr. Barnes shakes his head to throw himself out of his admiration of the woman sitting beneath him to nod, “I’d like my measurements taken and some fabric choices, please. My last few suits have had some irrevocable damage done to them and I need some new pieces as soon as you can sew them up.”

As soon as the word “measurements” flies from between his teeth, Riley is a whirlwind of mumbles and stretching limbs. She picks up his arms so she can get his chest measurements and Mr. Barnes isn’t sure if the proximity or the haste in which she does her work is what is getting to him. Her full lower lip is constantly between the bite of her teeth and if he thinks about it hard enough, he catches himself mirroring the action.

“So,” she looks up at him as she measures the inseam of his pants, “what brings you to me?”

Mr. Barnes shrugs, “I was referred. Plus, you’re the only person in this part of New York who handmakes suits. No one does that anymore.”

“It’s a dying art,” Riley chuckles as she rolls up her tape measure and stands to her feet. She smiles, “My mom taught me, and her mom taught her. I figured I should just carry it on.”

Mr. Barnes watches as she shrugs off the cardigan in her flurry of movements. It’s comical and endearing how into her work she has become in just a short twenty minutes. “That’s what happened to me, too. I got caught up in the family business.”

Even though he’s smiling, Mr. Barnes is recalling the events from less than twenty-four hours ago. The blood, the smell of gunpowder, the sight of another body falling to the ground. The family business.

“Well, we all have our niche,” Riley checks another one of his measurements, her head ducked down and he can’t see the smile she has on her face, but he knows it is there. Mr. Barnes nods, “Yeah, I suppose we do. Is this the only thing you’re good at?”

To any other woman he’s ever been involved with, that question would’ve risen eyebrows and turned cheeks pink. With this seamstress, however, all she does is answer it plainly.

“I’m a pretty good baker,” she smacks her thighs before standing to her feet. “And I would like to think I’m a good housewife, but I’m not a wife, and I haven’t lived in a house for a while now.”

Mr. Barnes turns his head to look at her, “Are the pastries in the front yours?”

A light laugh echoes from her lips, “Actually, yes. I make them fresh every day, but today I was running late because my alarm didn’t go off. Toulouse didn’t wake me up either.”

“Toulouse?” Mr. Barnes inquires. Riley nods her head and rolls her tape measure up the final time, stepping away from his tall frame, “That’s enough about me, I feel like I’ve been rambling about myself for an hour. Do you want to go look at possible fabrics now that I have your measurements?”

Mr. Barnes shakes his head and steps down from the stool, “I liked hearing you talk. But yes, fabric choices would be good now.”

She nudges her long-forgotten heels out of the way and walks barefooted up to the section of the store where she displays her fabric options. Riley tugs out a specific dark gray that she believes he’d look absolutely beautiful in.

“How about this one?” she asks, rubbing her fingers over the thick fabric. It’s one of her favorites.

Mr. Barnes smirks, cocking his head in the slightest, “I think the two of us are going to get along just fine.”

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK AND IF YOU WANT ANOTHER PART !!!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #mcu #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction #mcu au #au #my writing #gunpowder and silk

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ao3feed-invaders · 6 years

Text

Safe Haven

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2VQnslt

by IdiotPineapple

An alien queen with no world to rule she was quickly outcased and crash landed in Earth. Little did she know but every take that she was told as a child was real there, The Avengers. She would have to try to help them overcome challenges that presented themselves all while to defeat the one person who killed her planet. Thanos. On her quest to Thanos she searches for love, friends, infinity stones and more.

note:This will be a fanfiction based off the comics and the mcu as a whole.

Words: 11491, Chapters: 10/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Adventures: Iron Man, Iron Fist (Comic), Black Panther (2018), Black Panther (Comics), Doctor Strange (2016), Doctor Strange (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man (Comics), The Incredible Hulk (Comics), Winter Soldier (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), Black Widow (Comics), Thor (Movies), Loki: Agent of Asgard, Matantei Loki Ragnarok | Mythical Detective Loki Ragnarok, Invaders (Marvel), New Mutants, Runaways (Comics), X-Men - All Media Types

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other

Characters: Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Peter Parker, T'Challa (Marvel), Shuri (Marvel), Natasha Romanov (Marvel), M'Baku (Marvel), Okoye (Marvel), Stephen Strange, Wong (Marvel), Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Phil Coulson, Bruce Banner, War (Cable and Deadpool), Logan (X-Men), Azazel (X-Men), X-Men (Team), Rogue (X-Men), Jean Grey, Cyclops, Alex Summers, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy, Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, Vision (Marvel), Peter Quill, Gamora (Marvel), The Black Order (Marvel), Adam Warlock, Namor the Sub-Mariner, Drax the Destroyer, Richard Rider, Mantis (Marvel), Groot (Marvel), Rocket Raccoon, Odin (Marvel), Hela (Marvel), Antoine Triplett, Grant Ward, Skye | Daisy Johnson, Melinda May, Leo Fitz, Jemma Simmons, James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Maria Hill, Maria Stark, Howard Stark, Carol Danvers, Peggy Carter's Husband, Sharon Carter (Marvel), Medusalith Amaquelin, Blackagar Boltagon, Lockjaw (Marvel), Maximus Boltagon, Karnak (Marvel), Gorgon (Inhumans), Triton (Marvel), Johnny Storm, Susan Storm (Fantastic Four), Reed Richards, Ben Grimm, Johnny Blaze, Madame Gao (Marvel), Mephisto (Marvel), Galactus, Sif (Marvel), Warriors Three (Marvel), Thanos (Marvel), Nebula (Marvel), Domino, Robbie Reyes, Spider-Woman, Bobbi Morse, Kamala Khan, Satana Hellstrom, Khonshu (Moon Knight), Matt Murdock, Luke Cage, Jessica Jones, Victor von Doom, Victor Creed, Danny Rand, Frank Castle, Mobster Kingpin, Ancient One (Marvel)

Relationships: Loki & Loki's Children (Marvel), Bruce Banner/James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark/Thor/OC

Additional Tags: Original Character(s), Original Character Death(s), Cults, Character Death, Death, Minor Character Death, Heartbreak, Shower Sex, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Sex, Rough Sex, Gay Sex, Vaginal Sex, Marriage, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Platonic Relationships, Comedy, Romantic Comedy, Dark Comedy, Tragedy/Comedy, Gore, Blood and Gore, Mild Gore, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Aliens, Alien Sex, Alien Planet, Alien Cultural Differences, Alien/Human Relationships, Alien Character(s), Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Magic, Magic Revealed, Magical Realism, Sex Magic, Magical Artifacts, Dark Magic, Magical Accidents, Magical Tattoos, Pop Culture, Alien Culture, Culture Shock, Brother-Sister Relationships, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Best Friends, Friends With Benefits, Developing Friendships, Rivalry, Sibling Rivalry, Outer Space, IN SPACE!, Space Battles, Lesbians in Space, Space Flight, Racism, Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, Marvel POC Characters Fanworks Exchange, Random Encounters, Anti-Hero, Feminist Themes

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2VQnslt

#ao3feed #invaders #fanfic #Bucky Barnes #Namor #Jim Hammond #Toro Raymond #Steve Rogers #Spitfire #U

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ao3feed-buckybarnes · 6 years

Text

Safe Haven

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2VQnslt

by Anonymous

note:This will be a fanfiction based off the comics and the mcu as a whole.

Words: 11491, Chapters: 10/?, Language: English

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other

Relationships: Loki & Loki's Children (Marvel), Bruce Banner/James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark/Thor/OC

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2VQnslt

#bucky #IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #bucky barnes #james barnes #the winter soldier #james barnes

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etherealbuccky · 6 years

Text

Always & Forever: Three

Summary: Soulmates are linked through identical marks. Some are large and distinctive making it easy to find each other. Some, however, are very small and easy to miss. Mila Jones was born with a small crescent moon on her wrist, whereas Bucky Barnes saw his appear on his wrist at the young age of 10. despite all odds being against them finding each other, they do. Forcing both of them to make important decisions and figure out what they really want out of life. Can she be happy with a mobster? Will they give love a chance?

Waking up to her alarm she grabbed her phone and saw a text from an unsaved number.

“will be at your residence in 30 minutes ma’am. -Lance”

Rushing to get ready, she showered, put on her favorite black dress and kept her makeup minimal. Her doorbell rang while she was putting on her jewelry and spraying her perfume. Grabbing her coat and bag she rushed to the door to see an older man with white hair and a three piece suit. His expression was devoid of any emotion as he motioned for her to follow him and the drive was spent in complete silence. She knew not to expect him to be too social but this was a bit awkward. Thanking him when they stopped in front of the office, she rushed inside. Walking into her office she saw the prettiest flower arrangement sitting on her desk. Pink roses, peonies and hydrangeas. Attached was a card.

“A bit late, but good luck on the new job.

Love you always, Jackson.”

A sad smile crept up on her face. She hadn’t spoken to Jackson since everything with Tommy. She suppressed the memories and forced herself to get to work.

That day she had lunch with Wanda and her coworkers for the first time. They were all really nice. Loki from accounting was a bit distant but not unpleasant. The day passed quickly and as she went to leave the office, she got a text from Bucky.

Bucky: rain check for dinner? Something came up.

She had to admit she was a bit disappointed.

Mila: Of course, no problem.

She decides to just relax at home tonight. The flowers from Jackson were still on her mind. Her mother must have told him about the move and the new job, how else would he know? She sends him a quick thank you text.

When she gets home, she sees Luka standing in front of her apartment with two bottles of wine and a very tired expression.

“Rough day?” she giggles looking at the state of his clothes. Paint covers his pants and sweater and his hand are still black from the charcoal.

“Yes, today was terrible and my best friend is currently laughing at my pain. Screw you for that by the way.” He says part exasperated and part amused.

“Come on you big baby,” she says while unlocking the door to her apartment “You go wash up and I’ll order us some takeout” After ordering the food and throwing Luka some clothes that he had left there last time she felt her phone vibrate.

Bucky: Did you eat?

Mila: I’m about to, you?

Bucky: Yeah me too, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go for a drink tonight?

Mila: I actually have a friend over, another night?

Bucky: Does his name happen to be Jackson?

Mila stared at her phone wondering how the hell Bucky could even know about Jackson. Feeling more than a little annoyed at the question.

Mila: How do you know Jackson?

Bucky: What kind of “Friend” sends that kind of stuff?

Mila: You’re overstepping Barnes. Tread carefully.

Bucky: I don’t appreciate being lied to.

At this point she was fuming. How dare he?

Mila: if this is how this is going to be I don’t think it’s going to work. Keep your driver, keep your watch dogs and stay the hell away from me. Obviously I miscalculated this whole thing.

At that she switched off her phone and opened a bottle of wine. No way in hell was this guy going to make her like difficult when she had just met him. Soulmate or not.

Luka, being the observant little shit that he is, obviously noticed something was wrong and kept prying until she’d tell him at least something. With a belly full of tapas and quite a bit of wine she told him about Bucky. Conveniently leaving out his line of work and his last name. She couldn’t quite discern the look on her friends face. It was quiet for a few moments before he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “Did you tell him about Tommy?” She smiled, a tearful smile, before saying “No, I just told him that I wasn’t in a place where I could see myself falling in love with another person.” He just shook his head at this. “You deserve to move on love, after everything that happened you deserve all the happiness in the world.” “But that’s the thing Luka,” She was crying at this point. “why should I get to move on and be happy when he didn’t? It wasn’t a bad break up or someone moving overseas that took him from me, he died. I loved him and he died. He never got to find his soulmate, why should I?”

Tears kept falling from her eyes, maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the fact that she refused to talk about it since it happened. But all these feelings just came rushing back and she can’t stop them.

“You know, Jackson sent me flowers today. My favorites too. After the funeral I barely talked to him anymore. It was too painful to look at him because all I could see is Tommy.”

“They’re twins hun, what did you expect? You can’t blame him for the resemblance.”

“I know, I know. It just hurts so bad Luka. “

She didn’t realize she was shaking until Luka tightened his hold on her, she didn’t even realize he was holding her in the first place. He just rubbed her back and told her everything was okay. Over and over again until sleep finally took over.

She woke up the next morning with her head feeling heavy and a numbing kind of sadness that she hadn’t felt for a while. Rolling over in her bed she looked at her alarm clock. She didn’t need to wake up for work for another two hours but she knew she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. Getting up to go make coffee she saw Luka curled up on her sofa. A small smile crept on her face at the sight of her dearest friend. So that was how she got in bed with pajamas on, she thought. She silently made coffee and breakfast figuring the smell would be enough to wake him, and sure enough when she had just finished plating the food she saw him slowly waking up rubbing his eyes. She put their breakfast on the coffee table and sat on the floor by his head.

“Why on earth are we eating breakfast at the ass crack of dawn?”

“Mornin’ to you too sugar.” The only light was coming from a small lamp in the corner of the living room, the sun wasn’t up just yet the outside world was yet to wake up. “It’s just a thank you for staying and holding me through yet another break down. I’m really happy you’re so close by again. Don’t know what I’d do without ya kid.”

“Yeah I am quite amazing aren’t i?” He joked. Slapping his chest lightly she told him to come eat before it got cold. So there they sat on the slightly cold floor of her apartment at the ass crack of dawn, eating breakfast and talking about yet another date gone wrong for Luka. After they had finished eating and Luka said he was going to get an early start at his studio and be productive she was left alone with her thoughts again. Her phone was still switched off since yesterday and she was a bit scared to turn it back on. Deciding she was going to put it off a bit longer she showered and got ready for work. Putting on a slim fitted pant suit with a champagne colored silk blouse. She pulled her curly black hair into a low bun with a few strands framing her face. As she always did when she felt a bit down, she put even more effort into her makeup. With a bold red lip and her favorite pair of heels she finally gathered the courage to switch on her phone. 5 missed calls from Bucky and only one text.

Bucky: Lunch tomorrow, I’m not taking no for an answer.

She figures lunch might not be such a bad idea. She wants to tell him about Tommy. Walking out of her apartment building she sees Lance standing by the car. He opens the door to the car and she sees Bucky sitting in the backseat. Not wanting to cause a scene she gets in, avoiding any eye contact, looking out of the window instead.

Bucky feels relief when she finally gets into the car. The hesitation in her eyes is clear. After and entire night of worrying and reading back texts he’s happy that she can at least stand to be near him. He doesn’t like it when she’s mad at him he realizes. He motions for Lance to roll up the partition and gently grabs hold of her hand. She doesn’t pull it away. He squeezes her hand and mutters a quiet sorry. He’s never been good at apologizing, but he hopes she’ll accept it anyway. She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even look his way. She just squeezes his hand back and keeps looking out of the window. Her hand is soft, and small, and warm. He doesn’t want to let it go. Accepting that she doesn’t feel like talking he settles for just looking at her. He knows he shouldn’t stare, but he just can’t help himself. She looks so pretty, and that lipstick isn’t helping either. All he can think about is kissing her. God, he wants to kiss her so bad. They’re almost at her office when she turns to look at him. The sadness in her eyes makes his heart hurt. She keeps starting a sentence but she can’t seem to find the words. Eventually, with a deep sigh and her eyes closed she says “I’m sorry that I may have overreacted last night. I see why you might be confused even though you’re not entirely blameless. I’ll explain everything in time, I promise. I just need to get my thoughts in order.” She squeezes his hand again with a sad smile and he can’t help but smile too. “ I’m sorry too sweetheart, I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I’ll wait, I ain’t in no rush.” When they pull up In front of the building she gives him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek without thinking much of it. She heads inside and leaves a very flustered Bucky behind in the car. He’s blushing. Bucky Barnes is blushing. He can’t believe the effect this girl has on him. Clearing his throat and rolling down the window because it got too hot, he thinks back to the feeling of her lips on his cheek. All he can think about is how he wants to kiss her again. The day practically flies by with all the work she has to do and lunch rolls pretty quick. She doesn’t realize what time it is until she gets a text from Bucky telling her Lance will be with her in 5 minutes.

Lance took her to a new sushi place not too far from her office. Bucky was waiting outside looking a bit tired. He smiled when he saw her and guided her inside. They had a private booth away from the chatter of the other customers. He asked her about her day and tried to fill up the time with small talk, when she blurted out “He died.” Without thinking. Utterly mortified she hid behind her Menu and couldn’t bring herself to look at him. He gently pulled the menu out of her hands and held them, softly rubbing circles to calm her down. “ Breathe doll, take it easy. Who died?” Taking a deep breath she told him everything from the beginning.

She met Tommy when she was younger they became close friends and as they got older the feelings grew deeper. No one really approved because they weren’t each other’s soulmates but they just couldn’t leave each other alone. They were together for a few years until he got cancer. Everything seemed to be going well and treatments were successful, until they weren’t. she never left his side and he passed while still holding her hand.

“It wasn’t pretty” she said “But I was with him till the end, and for that I’m thankful. Jackson is his twin. I haven’t spoken to him much since the funeral.”

Bucky could only nod, squeezing her hand reassuringly. Now he understood why she wasn’t ready for a relationship. But he would wait. As long as it took for her to want him too, he would wait. “did she cheat on you?” she asked quietly. Bucky looked at her confused until she said. “Your ex, did she cheat? Your mind immediately went to the worst case scenario when you saw the flowers, I figured it must be because of an unfaithful ex.” She said quietly, scared that she was overstepping. He nodded sadly.

“Yeah, her name was Dot, she had me looking like a damn fool sleeping around while she was with me. After her, I had a hard time trusting anyone so I didn’t really commit to any relationships.”

“So you just hit em and quit em huh Barnes?” She said teasingly.

He just laughed and shook his head. Lunch passed pretty quickly and soon Lance was driving her back to her office. Bucky had taken his own car saying he had business to tend to. The rest of her day was a whirlwind of deadlines and meetings and she was glad the day was finally over.

She expected to see Lance outside but she saw another man, younger with dark hair and high cheekbones. She had a bad feeling about him. Giving her a polite smile he said Lance couldn’t make it and that Mr. Barnes had sent him instead. Wanting to check with Bucky she got out her phone only to be pushed into the car and feeling a cloth being pressed to her mouth. She tried to scream but she couldn’t and suddenly, darkness took over. The Last thing she heard were the names Rumlow and Pierce.

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #mobster!bucky #mobster!bucky x black!oc #black!oc #always&foreverfic

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sunshinebuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Here we go again, my September fic rec list 🍂 as always please make sure you check the warnings for each individual fic before reading. You are responsible for your own media consumption. This blog along with the majority tagged are 18+ and the majority of these fics contain adult themes.

Make sure you give these incredible writer’s some love and reblogs because they deserve the damn world! Hope you enjoy these as much as I did 💖

Bucky Barnes

*The match by @babyboibucky (CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Toxic love by @gogolucky13 (70spornstar!Bucky Barnes x 70spornstar!f!Reader, 70spornstar!Bucky Barnes x 70spornstar!f!Reader x 70spornstar!Sam Wilson)

*Stark hub: The soldier by @world-of-aus (Pornstar!Bucky x Pornstar!Reader)

*A scarred enigma by @tuiccim (Bucky Barnes x OC Lexa Green)

Three and an infinity by @thefallenbibliophilequote (Bucky x Reader)

*Take my breath by @buckycuddlebuddy (dilf!neighbor!pornstar!bucky barnes x reader)

*Bride of soldat by @vampy-doll (Bucky Barnes x reader)

Remind me by @navybrat817 (Bucky Barnes x Female Reader)

Bonnie & Clyde 2.0 by @little-diable (Biker!Bucky Barnes x female reader)

Lure by @bccky (Bucky Barnes X Reader)

*Personal trainer by @buckybarneschokeme (PT!Bucky x reader)

Undercurrent by @trashmenofmarvel (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Over & over by @mrwinterr (Pornstar!Bucky Barnes AU x Pornstar!Female Reader)

Selfish by @metalbuckaroo (dbf!bucky x f!reader)

Bucky Barnes / Steve Rogers ✨

Don't you want me by @summerofsnowflakes

Loves eternal kiss by @jobean12-blog (Stucky x reader)

Sam Wilson ✨

What you wanted by @honeysugarcoves (semi-dark!sam wilson x reader)

In a garden of wilted flowers by @ambrosiase (sam wilson x fem!reader)

Tangled (in these sheets, in your arms) by @babycap (sam wilson x fem!reader)

Andy barber ✨

My sanctuary, you're holy to me by @jamalflanagan (Andy Barber x woc!reader)

Easily distracted by @jobean12-blog (Andy Barber x reader)

Bucky Barnes / Steve Rogers / Sam Wilson ✨

Come to and agreement by @swtbbybarnes (Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x reader x Sam Wilson)

Jake Jensen / Andy Barber ✨

*A different kind of love by @river-soul (Alpha!Andy x Omega!Reader x Beta!Jake)

Bucky Barnes / Steve Rogers / Billy Russo / frank Castle ✨

The Geneva bed and breakfast convention by @tuiccim (Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Reader x Frank Castle x Billy Russo)

Ransom Drysdale / Ari Levinson ✨

A very bad idea by @the-iceni-bitch (Ransom Drysdale x fem!reader (OTP) x Ari Levinson)

Ari Levinson ✨

A promised threat by @geminixevans (CEO!Ari Levinson x Black Reader)

Steve Rogers ✨

Where he belongs / don't f*ck with the queen by @angrythingstarlight (Beefy Biker!Steve Rogers x Reader)

*Always on my mind by @the-iceni-bitch (dilf!Steve Rogers x tattoo artist!reader)

Eucharist by @mypoisonedvine (priest!Steve Rogers x reader)

*His inheritance by @jtargaryen18 (Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader)

*After the rain by @sweetlyscared (King!Steve Rogers x Princess!Reader, one sided Bucky x Princess!Reader)

Fill me up by @jtargaryen18 (Steve Rogers x reader)

Subtitles by @holacia2 (Steve Rogers x Spanish speaker!reader)

*Time to run by @syntheticavenger (Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Female Reader)

Ransom Drysdale ✨

*Exposed kisses by @holacia2 (Ransom Drysdale x reader)

Sweater weather by @jobean12-blog (Ransom Drysdale x reader)

Lee Bodecker ✨

Please me by @gogolucky13 (Lee Bodecker x f!Reader)

Chris Beck

Quitting time by @navybrat817 (Chris Beck x female reader)

Andy Barber / Ari Levinson ✨

Peach by @geminixevans (Ari Levinson x Black Reader x Andy Barber)

Andy Barber / Frank Adler ✨

*Moments silence by @syntheticavenger (Dark! Andy Barber x Female Reader & Frank Adler x Female Reader)

Andy Barber / Ransom Drysdale ✨

The deals we make by @river-soul (Andy Barber x Reader x Ransom Drysdale)

Andy barber / Ari Levinson / Ransom Drysdale ✨

*Necessary arrangements by @stargazingfangirl18 (Andy Barber x Fem!Reader; Ari Levinson x Fem!Reader; Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader)

Curtis Everett ✨

*Wilford's demands by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork (Curtis Everett x reader)

#fic recs #september fic recs #bucky barnes #steve rogers #andy barber #ransom drysdale #curtis everett #jake jensen #lee bodecker #sam wilson #ari levinson #chris beck

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ao3feed-mcufemslash · 6 years

Text

Safe Haven

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2VQnslt

by Anonymous

note:This will be a fanfiction based off the comics and the mcu as a whole.

Words: 2334, Chapters: 3/?, Language: English

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other

Relationships: Loki & Loki's Children (Marvel), Bruce Banner/James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark/Thor/OC

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2VQnslt

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #mcu

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ao3feed-hawkguy · 6 years

Text

Safe Haven

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2VQnslt

by Anonymous

note:This will be a fanfiction based off the comics and the mcu as a whole.

Words: 926, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other

Relationships: Loki & Loki's Children (Marvel), Bruce Banner/James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark/Thor/OC

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2VQnslt

#fanfic #hawkeye #hawkguy

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ao3feed-lokiangst · 6 years

Text

Safe Haven

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2VQnslt

by Anonymous

note:This will be a fanfiction based off the comics and the mcu as a whole.

Words: 926, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other

Relationships: Loki & Loki's Children (Marvel), Bruce Banner/James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark/Thor/OC

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2VQnslt

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #angst

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etherealbuccky · 6 years

Text

Always & Forever: Two

Bucky made his way into his office with Steve just two steps behind him. Walking in he saw Nat was already waiting for them with a bored look on her face.

“Mila Jones, just moved here from DC and lives alone in SoHo. Mom’s a lawyer, dad’s a physician. Law degree and works for Stark as a contract manager. No record, nothing out of the ordinary. Her address and additional info are in the folder. Why the hell are we looking into her again?” she asked with the same bored expression.

“Not important. Thanks for getting the info so quickly.”

The red head just nodded at this and walked out of the office.

“You can’t keep her a secret forever you know.” Steve said with a knowing look in his eyes.

“I know, I just want to keep it a secret ‘till we figure it out.”

“What’s there to figure out? She’s your soulmate. Not everyone is lucky enough to find theirs especially with a mark as small as yours. Go after her Buck, you deserve a bit of happiness.”

“Steve did you hear a word Nat just said? This girl grew up in a happy home with two accomplished parents and has no record whatsoever. What the hell is she gonna want with a mobster? It ain’t gonna work Stevie.” He said with a sigh.

Sam walked in looking uncharacteristically serious. “Rumlow just hit two of our guys. We need to deal with this before he gets outta hand.”

Bucky’s face was suddenly devoid of emotion. “Get Barton, Odinson and Maximoff” He said while grabbing his gun and tucking a knife into his sleeve.

After a while the six men were standing in front of a seemingly abandoned warehouse. Bucky turned to his men with a serious expression.

“I’ll do the talking and see if the punk takes the easy way out. If not and any of his men draw their weapons you give em hell. Rumlow is mine.” Of course no one ever takes the easy way out, he thought as he was driving back to his brownstone in Brooklyn heights covered in blood and with bruised and bloodied knuckles. But at least he made it known that no one touches his people and lives. After a long shower he slipped on a pair of black sweatpants and a grey T-shirt. Sitting down at his kitchen table and pouring himself a drink he looked over the file Nat had given him that afternoon. She was beautiful, no doubt. Quite a few year younger than him too. She had curly black hair, big brown eyes and plump pouty lips. Her umber skin had a certain glow to it, like she radiated sunshine. He could stare at her face all day, but he wouldn’t let himself. How could she ever love him? Who in their right mind would agree to becoming his and having a target on their back for the rest of their lives? Finishing his drink, he decided that he was going to meet her the next day and explain why it could never work. They go their separate ways, and everyone is happy. Going to sleep that night all he could see were those pretty eyes and that damn mark on her wrist.

The rest of her day was spent deep in thought. She found him, or rather he found her, and she ran off like a mad woman. This was not at all how she had imagined her first meeting with her soulmate. She imagined them meeting in a bookstore or a coffee shop, as cheesy as that was. She imagined shy introductions and starting off as friends. Getting to know each other and gently explaining that she could never be in a relationship. Not after him. They would be non-romantic soulmates. There for each other in a way that was far more reliable than romantic relationships. No jealousy, no drama, no heartbreak.

She got home after a rather busy day at the office and ordered a pizza before stepping into the shower and removing all of her makeup. After moisturizing and changing into a black hoodie and some matching sweats the delivery guy was at the door. Her night was spent stuffing her face and wondering how they would meet again. Would they meet again? Did she throw away their chance by running away? Only time will tell, she supposed. Going to bed later that night all she could think about were those slate blue eyes and the itty bitty moon on his wrist. About the man who was destined to be hers but never could be because she was broken beyond repair.

The next morning she was having coffee in her small apartment, dressed in black pencil pants and a white silk blouse. She was wearing her favorite lipstick and smooth jazz was playing in the background. It was a good morning. All she could think about was whether or not she’d see him again. Checking her watch she put on her coat and left for work. When she stepped out into the cold she saw a pair of familiar eyes looking right at her. He was dressed in a black three-piece suit and has his hair pulled into the same low bun. God he was beautiful. He looked at her in a way she couldn’t quite decipher but it still sent a chill down her spine. He opened the door to the range rover he was leaning against and motioned for her to get in the car.

“Please, let me drive you to work. It’s too cold to be walkin’ doll.” He said with a cocky grin. He hoped she couldn’t see through his act, his heart was racing awaiting her reaction.

“Obviously your social skills are ever worse than mine, and that’s saying something.” She smiled and stuck out her hand. “My name’s Mila, nice to meet you. This is the part where you introduce yourself and tell me how you figured out where I live. Fingers crossed it isn’t creepy.” She said with an amused look on her face. One on one interactions she could always handle easily. Groups are what scare her into being an awkward stammering mess.

“Bucky Barnes.” He said taking her hand in his and lifting it to his lips to place a kiss on her knuckles. He saw her getting flustered at the gesture and it made his heart swell in his chest. Cute, he thought. “Let me just drive you to work please, I’ll explain everything over lunch later if you’ll join me.” She knew she shouldn’t trust strangers but it was freezing out and she was far too curious about him to decline. So she got in the car and let him drive her to work. The journey was mostly silent. Until he asked her what time she would like for him to pick her up and what kind of food she likes. “12.30 is when I have my break and anything’s fine really.” She said with a small smile as they pulled up in front of the building.

“Alright then, see ya at 12.30.” He said with a small smile which she gladly returned. He reached over her to get the door for her and only then did she realize how amazing he smelt. She has to force herself to lean away from his body and she hurried off muttering a quick goodbye. Driving back to his office all he could think about was how great she smells and how good that lipstick looked on her. He had to force himself to stop staring at her beautifully plump lips. What was he getting into?

12.30 came around quickly and she hurried towards the elevator saying a quick goodbye to her coworkers. Stepping out of the building, she saw him right where she left him. Looking right at her with those beautiful blue eyes. She thanked him for opening the door for her and he gave her a small smile. This smile was a lot less easy than the one he gave her this morning. He looked anxious. They pulled up to a nice looking Italian place and he got out first to open her door for her. They got out and walked in. The place was completely empty, despite her knowing it was damn near impossible to get a reservation here. This convinced her even more that the allegations were true. One quick google search at the office earlier and she found out he’s a very dangerous person. A string of murders throughout the city ever since he allegedly took over a Brooklyn based mob. None of the crimes were linked back to him in the form of evidence of course, which is why he was here right in front of her. She looked at him questioningly and he just smiled and said he thought it would be better to have some privacy. She nodded, thinking he must not want to hide what he does for a living from her. They were seated immediately and he asked her if she preferred red or white wine.

“I don’t drink.”

“At all?” He asked surprised. She just nodded and asked for an iced tea while he ordered a red wine. She was fidgeting and he noticed. It worried him. Did she already find out who he really was? Was she scared of him already? Worries flooded his mind until he heard her speak softly.

“I know who you are, what you do. I googled you at the office earlier. I thought I’d let you know to save you from having to explain. You look nervous enough as it is.” He forced himself to keep his composure. “I can neither confirm nor deny these allegations.” He said with that stupid cocky smirk. “Cut the crap Barnes, I can see you’re nervous. But, as it is we are allegedly perfect for each other. So, I won’t judge you for how you make a living. However, I really don’t want any part of it.” He nodded in understanding. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something, anything.

“I get that you don’t want anything to do with my business. However I would like to get to know you. No expectations, just getting to know each other.” She found the uncertainty in his voice endearing. She should tell him, she supposes. “I’d like that too, I should tell you though, I’m not at a place where I can be involved with anyone romantically.” She said quietly. “I accept everything that you are, if you accept that we can only be friends.”

He wanted her to be more than a friend. Especially because she was so accepting of who he was and what he does. But he had to try, for her. He gave her a small smile and agreed to her terms. “Fair enough.” He said with a voice that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Lunch came and they talked about anything and everything. She found him surprisingly easy to talk to and he liked hearing her laugh. She told him about her love for jazz, the books she’s currently reading because she can never just read one at a time and how she was an only child. He told her how he came to take over his dad’s business when a hit took out both of his parents. He had just graduated college at the time. He has three sisters two of them are married and moved away to London and Amsterdam respectively. They couldn’t take this life anymore. The eldest of the three however, Rebecca, still lived in Brooklyn and they have dinner together every Sunday. It was almost time to go and they were drinking coffee, he remembered he needed to lay down some ground rules with her.

“Doll, before I forget,” She felt her cheeks heat up at the pet name. “If I’m gonna be in your life you’ll need protection. My line of work is unpredictable. You’ll have a driver to take you to and from work. I’ll have people looking out for you at all times and make sure no one can get to you. I know being associated with me can be risky business but I can more than handle it.” It was as if she was only now realizing what she had agreed to but she pushed down the bad thoughts and put on her brave face.

“I can handle myself just fine you know.” She said with a small smile.

“Then let me do it for my own peace of mind. Please, Mila.” Her name coming from his lips was like music to her ears as she pushed those feelings down too. She couldn’t let herself think like that. “Alright. I agree to you terms, but I have some of my own.” He nodded for her to continue. “You can’t just show up without letting me know beforehand, If we meet it’ll never be at each other’s houses because that’d be risky. Also, we keep this between us. The less people that know about us being soulmates the less messy anything can get.”

“Agreed. I’ll admit showing up at your house and job was a bit reckless. Steve is outside he’ll take you back to work and take you home later too. Your driver starts tomorrow.”

“Who’s Steve?”

“My right hand man, my closest friend. You can trust him, probably more than you can trust me.” He said the last bit with a sweet smile.

“So I can safely assume he already knows about me?”

“Yeah he does, I tell him everything.” She nodded slowly before letting him guide her outside after dropping far too much money on the table. Outside was one of the men she saw the first time she met Bucky. He was blonde, tall and quite muscular. He gave her a warm smile and reached out his hand. “Hi there, I’m Steve Rogers nice to meet you, again.” He chuckled. She returned the smile and shook his hand. “I’m Mila Jones, but you already knew that.” He just smiled at that and opened the passenger side door for her. She gave Bucky one last look and he smiled at her saying “I’ll text you.” She nodded and got in the car giving him one last smile. The drive back to work with Steve was nice. He was really funny and easy to talk to. He asked her what time he should be there to pick her up and gave her a tight hug before he left.

The rest of her workday was pretty uneventful. It was 4PM when she went to get some coffee downstairs and felt her phone vibrate. It was a text from Bucky.

Bucky: Dinner tomorrow?

Mila: How did you get my number?

Bucky: Don’t ask any questions, and I won’t tell any lies ;)

Mila: Fine, don’t tell me.

Bucky: So I’ll have Lance pick you up tomorrow at 7?

Mila: Sure, sounds good. Where are we going? And is Lance the poor guy driving me around?

Bucky: One of my places, less prying eyes. Yes, Lance will be your driver.

He says it like it’s normal to own several restaurants. She thought to herself.

Mila: Okay, see you then.

She got her coffee and finished reviewing the remaining documents, adding remarks here and there. Packing up and taking a few documents to review later at home, she said goodbye to her colleagues and got on the elevator with Wanda. They talked about upcoming deadlines, Yvonne from marketing’s horrible lipstick and about meeting for brunch on Sunday. She got out on the ground floor hugging Wanda goodbye as she had to be at the underground parking lot. She expected to see Steve but saw Bucky instead. Raising an eyebrow at him he just gave her a smile and opened the car door for her. Once in the car she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“I thought we had a deal?”

“I know, I know. I just had a no good horrible fucking trash day and I needed a distraction. So, can you do that for me please?” He asked looking frustrated and sad all at the same time. “Sure, while we’re breaking the rules anyways, let’s go to my place. I make a mean lasagna. It’s bound to lift your spirits.” She smiled at him and he couldn’t help but smile back. They got to her place and looking around he saw white walls, a cozy living area to the left and a small kitchen to the right with a round dining table dividing the two areas. He saw an open door right ahead, revealing a large bed and a vanity. She had a lot of plants around the apartment and a record player in the corner. Books were scattered everywhere.

“I know it ain’t much but I love it.” She said while walking into the kitchen.

“No, No. I love it. It’s cozy.” He said with that beautiful smile of his. She walked back taking of her coat and stretching out her hand to take his too.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll start cooking”

“No doll, I don’t like feeling useless. Let me help. Just tell me where you need me.”

“I wouldn’t wanna ruin your suit Buck. Is it alright if I call you Buck?”

“Doll, you can call me whatever you want.” He said with a wink. She just laughed and threw an apron at him. He took off his suit jacket and waistcoat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt putting on the apron. The night was spent cooking, laughing and making fun of each other. The ate with Nina Simone drifting through the small apartment and after having some ice cream while she gave him a few book recommendations and showed him her record collection. Their fun was cut short when Bucky got a call from Steve and had to rush off. He gave her a tight hug and promised to see her tomorrow for dinner.

She did the dishes with a heavy heart. Bucky was nice, he made her feel comfortable and he seemed to relax around her too. She knew it was only a matter of time before one of them fell for the other hard. Yet all she could think about was how she lost Tommy and a feeling of guilt washed over her. Life can really be a cruel joke sometimes, she thought. After a long shower and finally going over the documents she went to bed thinking of how nice it felt to hug Bucky. Little did she know that a certain mobster was thinking about the same hug while washing the blood from under his fingernails. All he could think was how nice it had felt, and how small the chance of her being this kind to him would have been if she saw him right now. Blood covered his hands face and most of his shirt and none of it was his. He hoped she would never have to see this side of her.

That night he didn’t sleep a wink. She consumed his every thought. He had only just met her, how was this even possible. “Guess that’s how I knew she really is my soulmate.” He muttered to himself while taking a sip of his Bourbon. He couldn’t help but wonder why she didn’t want a relationship. Was she hurt badly? Did she just not want to be with him? He doubted that the latter was her reason seeing as she has been nothing but honest with him so far. Night faded into morning and he watched the sun rise while images of her lips and those gorgeous brown eyes flooded his mind. Pools of honey, he thought to himself.

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #mobster!bucky #mobster!bucky x black!oc #black!oc #always&foreverfic

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