#mobster steve rogers x reader

[kaunis-sielu]

Dangerous Places: 8

You don’t see Steve for almost a week. You meet several of the women, they seem nice enough and happy, but you’d seemed happy too.

Wanda had taken your grocery list and bought everything you’d needed, no hesitation. She was a soft woman, and the one you felt most comfortable around. You knew that Nat was reporting back to Steve on you. Those piercing green eyes of hers seemed to notice everything and it’s unnerving.

Your feet have healed well, the Doctor, a soft spoken man they call Hulk, had come by and checked in on you. He’d also offered to get you a system that would test your blood so you didn’t have to do your finger all the time, something that sounded more than a little appealing.

You’re a little surprised to see Steve enter after he knocks on the main door. You’ve got some music playing from an old radio you’d found and are reading a book. One that Carol had lent you.

“Hi Bunny.” He says putting a box on the counter. “Got you some sugar free cookies from a bakery I like.”

“Thank you.” You’re surprisingly touched by this.

“I hope they’re good.” He says dropping down into the arm chair with a heavy sigh. “How’s your week been?” When you level him with a look that pretty much screams really? “Right, sorry. Things have been interesting, hectic but I’m getting closer to destroying Hydra.”

“Good.”

“Good?” He seems surprised, “there’s no one there you were friends with?”

“No. Friends don’t help a monster keep you prisoner.”

“Will you tell me what happened?”

“No.” You tell him with a racing heart. Last time you’d said no to Brock he’d beaten you so badly you couldn’t sit comfortably for days.

“Okay, will you at least think about it?” He asks and you nod, you’ll think about it. “Thanks Bunny.”

“You can use my real name if you want.” You offer, not looking up from your book.

“I know.” You glance over at him and see a little smile on his face, “what are you reading?”

“Something from Carol.”

“Ah, sexy book then.” He says and your eyes nearly pop out of your head.

“Wh-what?”

“Sexy book. Carol makes us all read them, is that the one about the baker and the doctor?”

“Um, yes.” You know he can see the embarrassment on your face.

“Nice. Some things in that one I’ve wanted to try for a while. Let me know if you’re interested.” He flirts but you can’t even look at him. He turns on the tv and you continue to read for a while, you’re reading a more, spicy, part when he hums and you look up at him.

“You’re at the part in the kitchen aren’t you?”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“The look on your face, and how far along you are in the book. I just read that one.” You snap the book shut, keeping one finger in between the pages so you don’t lose your spot. “Aw, come on Bunny. Keep readin’ for me.”

“No more comments.” You tell him attempting to make it sound like a question while it’s really a request.

“Alright, but I’m watchin’ still.” You sigh heavily but don’t argue, you open the book again and start reading.

The scene is hot. There’s no arguing that, and annoyingly now you can’t get the vision of Steve as the male character out of your head.

He lets you read in peace for a half an hour before he says, “what should we do for dinner?”

“I was going to do leftovers.”

“Ah, what if I cook for you?” You bite your lower lip and look down into your lap,

“I have so many leftovers, I don’t want anything to go bad.” You close your eyes waiting for the anger.

“Good girl Bunny.” He practically purrs and butterflies dance in your stomach. “I love when you set boundaries with me. Do you mind if I just find something?”

“That’s fine.”

“Thanks. Hulk said he was going to get you set up with some other stuff for your diabetes. Has he done that yet?” He asks as he makes his way to the fridge.

“No, I think he ordered it.”

“Good, anything else you want to do?”

“Leave.”

“Bunny.” He warns lowly and you glare at your book.

“The brand.” You say after a few more minutes of silence.

“Hmm?” He hums from where he’s looking into the fridge,

“I’d like my brand removed.”

“Did you talk to Bruce about it?”

“Who?”

“Oh, right Hulk.”

“Um, no. I don’t even know if it’s possible.”

“We can ask him, I can’t imagine it’s going to be pleasant.”

“I think that’s why he does it. Brock’s a monster. He likes inflicting pain on other people then,” you take a deep shaky breath, “he blames you for your pain.” You whisper and you hear Steve moving quickly.

“I’ll be right back Bunny.” He says through clenched teeth. The door slams shut and after a few seconds you hear the sound of something shattering. When he comes back into the house, his body is tight like he’s angry. He stalks over to you but freezes when he sees how you curl in on yourself.

“I’m coming over there Bunny. I’m not mad at you, you need to know that okay?” You nod and he comes over and crouches in front of you on the floor. “I need to know the things he did to you. I need to know so I can punish him when I destroy Hydra and I need to know so I can help you heal.” He says softly, “I am furious with how you were treated. It’s unacceptable.”

“It’s hard to talk about.” You whisper as tears fill your eyes.

“Maybe I could bring in a therapist for you?”

“You’d do that?”

“Yea Bunny. You’re mine to protect and that means from everything, past trauma included.”

“But why?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why me?”

“I don’t know. When I figure it out I’ll let you know.”

Tag list:

@andahugaroundtheneck @connie326 @also-fangirlinsweden @lumar014 @loving-life-my-way @pagina16ps @emdying @dumblani @valsworldofcreativity @blackwidownat2814 @vicmc624 @abschaffer2 @patzammit @inkedaztec @sophham

[holylulusworld]

Overdue

Summary: You’re a strict librarian.

Pairing: Mafia!Steve Rogers x Librarian!Reader

Warnings/Tags: short reader, mafia au, size kink (Steve), kidnapping?

I changed by posting schedule to match @navybrat817's Monday ask. Go, have a look a her blog and stories.

I had this one in my finished WIPs so here we go with Steve Rogers saving us from our job and boring Mondays. :)

You yawn and rub your tired eyes. It’s a slow day today. The library is almost empty, except for two teens hiding between two shelves to make out. You give them a pass for now if they don’t overdo it.

You turn your attention toward the books on your desk. Your colleague left them there after their shift for you to take care of. Just like always, they are selfish and lazy.

You huff and throw the pencil in your hands onto the desk. Your eyes are blurry, and you are ready to fall asleep. With only the two teens around, you allow yourself to close your eyes for a moment.  

Close to drifting toward your favorite fantasy you sigh dreamily. Your bed is calling for you, and you already miss your fluffy pillows. “So…tired…”

The door suddenly slams open, hitting the wall and you shriek in terror. Even the teens stopped making out to watch a tall man step inside the library.

He sticks out of this place like a sore thumb in his black slacks, black turtleneck sweater, and expensive grey overcoat. You can’t see his shoes, but you assume they’re expensive too, just like the rest of his outfit.

“Hi,” you put on your best-faked smile. If only he stayed away, you could’ve daydreamed a little longer. “What are you looking for?”

“A book,” he gruffly replies, eyes roaming the library. It seems like he’s searching for more than a book. “Where do I find the—” His tongue darts out to wet his perfect pink lips, “law books?”

“On the left side, the third shelf. Are you looking for a specific book, Sir? I can tell you where to find it if you know the title,” you offer, but he shakes his head. He’s halfway toward the shelf before you end your sentence.

You huff and turn your attention toward the stack of books left on your desk. You still have to handle the books, check them for damage, scan them, and return them to the shelves.

Engrossed in your task you don’t hear the man return to your desk. He clears his throat, drawing your attention toward him. You flit your eyes up to watch him run his hand over his thick, but well-trimmed beard. His blue eyes search yours for moment before he speaks again.

“How can I help you, Sir?” you repeat the line you said so often in your life you can’t even count it anymore.

“I’m looking for a book,” he repeats, earning a smirk from you. “A specific book.”

“Do you have a title?” You slowly get up from your swivel chair and round the desk. “Sir?”

“Hmm…” he simply watches you step next to him. Compared to him, you’re small, tiny even. “You’re short.” He states a fact you already know about. “Very short.”

You frown at his attitude. Yes. You are short. This doesn’t give him the right to call you short. “What?”

“Oh, that’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he takes a step closer to get a better look at you. “It’s cute, really.”

“Cute?” you are fuming and would love to shove your shoe up his ass. But you cannot risk getting caught while hurting a customer. “Do you know the title of the book, yes or no.” Your polite smile is fading, and you can barely hide that you’re pissed at the stranger.

“I know the title,” he lowers himself to whisper the title in your ear. “Do you have that one?”

“Yes,” you spin on your heels and march away, not waiting for him to catch up with you. He’s a stranger at this place, but you know it like the palm of your hand.

“You’re not very talkative,” he comments while following you.

“It’s not my job to entertain the people coming here. And it’s forbidden to be too loud at a library.”

“Ah,” he laughs. “You’re very strict, huh? I like someone following rules. I have a few too.”

“Hmmm…” you browse the shelf, finger sliding over the back of the books. “There it is.” You pull the book out of the shelf to hand it to the man. “That’s the one you are looking for.”

“You’re very helpful too,” he muses while his eyes roam your smaller figure. “How long are you working here?”

“Do you want to borrow the book? Are you already a member of our library? If not, you can fill out the application form.” You point toward the application forms on your desk. “I must warn you. Do not overdue the books, Sir.”

“Doll, do you honestly believe I came here for a book?” His features darken, and he licks those plump lips again. He dips his head to drink your trembling form in. “Do you?”

“What?” You splutter.

“You, out!” He jerks his head toward the teens. “Now!” They run out of the library, never looking back. “And you…” He turns back toward you, still that smirk on his lips, “will come with me.”

Your eyes widen in fear. “No.” You shake your head. “I won’t go anywhere with you. I don’t even know you, Sir.”

He chuckles darkly. Before you can blink you end up thrown over his shoulder. You slap him and scream. It’s no use. You wiggle and beg but he walks out of the library, with you hanging over his shoulder.

“I told you to take the day off, doll,” Steve laughs as you mutter under your breath. “Sometimes your man must take matters in his hands…”

Read more: In time

Tags in reblog.

[chloe-skywalker]

Love Beyond Limits Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

By @chloe-skywalker

Summary: After a lot of broken promises Y/n decides to get out of and leave Charming and California for that matter. Needing some space and time to heal her heart she heads to New York to stay with some friends. New York might just be her new home. While there she finds an unexpected romance that just feels like its meant to be, with a man in a very similar world as the one she grew up in. New friends that feel like family. Sure there's some ups and downs, shoot outs, break ins, a fast moving relationship, rival Mob’s and a kidnapping. But they’ll navigate it together.

Characters

Chapters :

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

Chapter 16 Chapter 17 more coming...

(All chapters shown above are done and in my queue, & currently writing more)

[cynic-spirit]

someone insults yn

Steve Rogers had faced down rivals, betrayed friends, and taken on entire organizations without blinking an eye, but nothing stirred the rage inside him like someone disrespecting Y/N. She was his world, the only person who could calm the storm that raged within him, and anyone who dared to insult her was making a grave mistake.

The day had started off simple enough. Steve and Y/N were out shopping, something she enjoyed doing when they had the rare chance to spend time together outside of his demanding, dangerous world. Steve usually didn’t care much for shopping, but he loved seeing her happy, so he tagged along, letting her lead him through the boutiques and stores.

They had wandered into an upscale shop, one of those places where the price tags were tucked discreetly out of view, and the salespeople looked down their noses at anyone who didn’t fit their idea of luxury. Steve noticed the way the saleswoman’s eyes skimmed over Y/N dismissively the moment they walked in, but he let it slide at first, thinking nothing of it.

Y/N, always gracious and polite, had picked out a few items to try on and asked the saleswoman for a dressing room. That’s when Steve caught the sneer on the woman’s face as she glanced at the clothes Y/N was holding, then at Y/N herself.

“If you ask me,” the saleswoman said, her voice dripping with condescension, “these are a bit too... sophisticated for someone so plain.”

The words hit Steve like a slap to the face, his vision narrowing to a tunnel focused solely on the woman who had just insulted his wife. Y/N’s expression faltered for a moment, her confidence wavering, and that was all it took for Steve’s protective instincts to surge to the surface, rage boiling over.

He stepped forward, his presence immediately commanding the room. The saleswoman, oblivious to the danger she was in, looked up, only to shrink back at the sight of Steve’s icy blue eyes locked onto her with a cold fury she’d never seen before.

“What did you just say?” Steve’s voice was dangerously low, each word a warning. He towered over her, every inch of him radiating a menace that made the air in the room feel thick and suffocating.

The woman’s confidence evaporated instantly, her face going pale as she realized who she was dealing with. “I-I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did,” Steve cut her off, his tone sharp as a blade. “You insulted my wife.” The words were laced with a promise of consequences that made the saleswoman tremble.

“Mr. Rogers, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—” she stammered, her voice shaking now as she took a step back.

But Steve wasn’t interested in her apologies. His focus was on Y/N, who was looking down at the clothes in her hands, clearly affected by the insult. He reached out, lifting her chin gently so she’d meet his gaze, his touch soft and reassuring, a stark contrast to the hard edge in his eyes.

“You are anything but plain, sweetheart,” Steve told her, his voice tender and full of conviction. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Y/N gave him a small, appreciative smile, but Steve wasn’t done. He turned back to the saleswoman, who was practically cowering now.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Steve said, his tone like steel. “You’re going to apologize to my wife. Then, you’re going to call your manager and tell them you’ve just lost one of their biggest customers.”

The woman opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She was too frightened to do anything but nod, her hands shaking as she hurriedly apologized to Y/N, stumbling over her words.

Steve’s glare didn’t waver until the woman finished, and then he added, “And if I ever hear of you—or anyone else in this store—treating her or any other customer like that again, you’ll wish you had never set foot in this place.”

The saleswoman could only nod again, her eyes wide with fear as Steve led Y/N out of the store, his arm protectively wrapped around her. As they stepped back onto the street, he glanced down at her, his expression softening.

“You okay?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Y/N nodded, leaning into him. “I’m fine. Thank you, Steve.”

He kissed the top of her head, his anger ebbing away now that she was in his arms. “No one talks to you like that. Not while I’m around.”

Y/N smiled up at him, warmth in her eyes. “I know. And I love you for it.”

Steve tightened his hold on her, determined to keep her safe from anything—or anyone—that dared to bring her down. In his world, respect wasn’t just demanded; it was enforced. And when it came to Y/N, Steve Rogers would make sure she was treated like the queen she was, no matter the cost.

[not-another-fangirl]

That was so fucking hot! Holy shit!!🥵🥵🥵

sharing is caring

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x wife!reader, mob!steve rogers x reader

request: combination of two requests

“can it be mob!bucky x wife! reader where bucky is fucking the reader and steve(buckys right hand man) walks in to talk to him about a problem it can be anything and bucky doesn’t stop and talks to steve while continuing to fuck the reader and talk the problem and so on” - @slasherbucky

“i was wondering if you could do it where it’s you and bucky for like half of the story then steve joins in after finding you and him.” - anonymous

word count: 2.5k

warnings: unprotected sex, smut, public(ish) sex, threesome, oral (m receiving), masturbation, swearing, multiple orgasms, praise kink, dirty talk, degradation, minors DNI

You adjusted the lace on your torso, then you closed the trench coat again. You crossed your legs as you waited. You were starting to get impatient.

You heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door. The door knob started to turn, so you sat up.

The door opened slowly, and the room was filled with the sound of Bucky’s voice. He was on the phone. “No, that is unacceptable. Tell him that is our highest offer.” He demanded.

You squirmed on the desk. You loved it when Bucky was authoritative. Bucky’s eyes went wide as he saw you. “I…uhhh—I’m going to have to call you back.” He said, quickly hanging up the phone.

He turned around, closing the door behind him. His eyes were drawn to where your trench coat stopped. “Hi there, sweetheart.” He said, softly as he stopped right in front of you.

Keep reading

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

three times

a/n: some time ago i asked you guys on a poll what dude you wanted in this story and you all chose bucky, so here it is! also, i partly blame you all for how unhinged it turned out... like you get maybe 6,69% of the blame for the push you gave me... the rest is just me being a hoe

summary: a tale of the three times a nurse was kidnapped by new york’s most notorious gang. 

warnings: dark!mob boss!bucky barnes x nurse!reader x doctor!peter parker, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, mob au, mobsters!steve rogers, clint barton, tony stark, scott lang, bruce banner, the gang is called the avengers, doctor!kate bishop, enemies to lovers, kidnapping, violence, weapons, blood, being drugged, alcohol consumption, possessiveness, kissing, clothed x completely naked, panty sniffing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, gaping, belly bulge, oral, fingering, fisting, pussyjob, in bucky's mind it's brat taming, dumbification, impact play, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, somno, bondage, mild knife play, mild gunplay, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cumplay

word count: 11.574

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

masterlist | join my taglist

You flinched jaggedly as the dark cloth bag was finally ripped off your head. Eyes immediately squinting, they still strained to take in the unfamiliar space you’d been dragged to. 

You were no longer in the hospital’s dark parking lot, nor were you in the black van you’d suddenly been tossed into, but instead, you found yourself in a dark living room. It was elegantly decorated, from the Persian rug to the dramatic, antique fireplace flicking behind the cluster of suit-clad criminals glaring down at you. 

“This her?” one of them grumbled. 

“Yep, one doctor as per your request,” the one who’d abducted you grinned, proudly planting a palm on his hip, “even choose a pretty one just for shits and giggles,” his starkly different mannerisms only made the others seem that much more intimidating. 

The broad-figured one with a shock of sandy hair then stepped closer to where you stood, “alright, here’s the thing, doc,” his head tilted slightly to get on your level as he spoke to you directly, “you’re gonna do exactly as we say and then everything will be alright, okay?” he stared in your eyes as you offered him a shaky nod, “okay,” he exhaled, “you got a name?”

“Y/n Y/l/n…” you uttered before hearing yourself try to correct, “but I–…”

“But what?” the same man croaked. 

“I-I’m not a doctor…”

“God damn it!” someone rumbled as everyone’s eyes flicked to the man who’d captured you, “we can’t fucking trust the new guy to do anything.”

“Well, she’s wearing scrubs,” he tried, frantically gesturing to your uniform, “I just thought–”

“You fucked up, Lang!” the first man who you’d heard speak barked loudly, “and now we’re not just gonna lose one of our brothers tonight, but also the head of the snake. Great fucking job,” a sharp click then caused your eyes to find the gun he yanked out, “and now she gotta die as well–”

“Wait!” you shrieked as both of your palms shot up in the air, “no! Please don’t kill me! I-I’m a nurse! I’m a nurse! I can help! Whoever’s hurt, I can help!”

Seemingly superior to the others present, the blonde one stared at you intensely for a while before exhaling a verdict, “shit… well, I guess it’s better than nothing…” his polished shoes then began to shuffle before he gestured to you, “come this way.” 

Hesitantly, you slowly shadowed him out of the living room, down a dim hallway, and into the chamber that bloomed at the bottom of the corridor. In the centre of the dark room, bathed by two glowing pendants, stood a large pool table, and upon the green felt, with colourful orbs haphazardly scatted all about, there laid a man, unconscious and bleeding. 

The brunette’s suit was sodden with crimson, though you couldn’t tell from here how much of it was his own. 

The gangster who was standing by the side and watching over the wounded individual glanced up at your arrival and asked his fellow men, “this the doctor?” 

“No, it’s a fucking stripper,” you twisted your neck at the sarcastic tone as the guy who’d only moments ago pulled a gun on you waltzed past you and entered the room as well, “yes, of course it is, Tony. How’s the boss?”

“Still alive,” he answered in a sigh and cast his glance back down upon the man on the pool table. 

Slowly stepping up, you carefully let your stare wash over the mobster, from the frazzled and blood-soaked attire to the metal-looking hand poking out one of the sleeves. 

“What happened?” you asked carefully. 

“Miss,” someone grumbled as they set a bag of supplies down beside you on the games table, “just fix him.” 

“If you wanna give your friend a better chance, then you give me as much information as possible about what happened to him,” you uttered as you found a pair of gloves and slipped them on. 

Letting out a sigh, the blonde fellow then said, “it was a shootout.”

Snatching up a pair of scissors, you began to snip in the man’s clothes, staring at the sleeve closest to you, “how many times was he shot?”

“I don’t know, he–… a lot of rounds went off,” he grunted, the events of the night weighting his broad shoulders down, “I wasn’t exactly counting.” 

Two bullets. That’s how many you found when his dress shirt was in tatters on the floor. One was lodged in his right arm four finger widths above his elbow, while the other had strayed a bit further north and buried itself in his bulky bicep. You also found other scrapes and scratches along his torso, assumingly from other bullets that hadn’t been as lucky as those two. 

The smallest of relieved sighs flowed from your lungs as you discovered that he wasn’t in a critical enough condition to be in need of a surgeon, at least not from what you could tell with the limited resources currently at your disposal. 

As you carefully set to work, first digging the bullets out before cleaning the wounds with saline, your lips slowly parted as you treaded a curved needle, “…so, not that I don’t love the change to my evening plans,” you didn’t dare shift your glance as you asked, “but don’t you have a regular guy for cleaning up these sorts of messes?” 

“We did… he died tonight, trying to stop that from happening,” the blonde man gestured to the injuries you began to stitch up. 

Blinking up to find his eye, you uttered sincerely, “I’m so sorry for your loss…” feeling yourself, even under such circumstances, uncontrollably slip into those compassionate parts of your profession. 

A slight scoff bubbled out of the gangster, taken aback by your unexpected gentleness, “yeah, me too. Banner was one hell of a guy…”

Once each of the wounds were sutured closed and you’d bandaged him up, you pushed yourself back from the pool table. 

“Alright,” you exhaled and glanced up at the criminals lurking in the shadows of the chamber, “I’m done.”

“Yeah?” one of them stepped up to get a better look, “he’s alright?”

“No, he’s not alright, he was shot multiple times and should be in a fucking hospital,” your eyes briefly fluttered shut as you heard yourself snap, “now, can I please go home?” 

Catching the eye of the blonde one, second in command, you watched as his jaw briefly clenched, the muscles dancing beneath his skin before he breathed, “no, you’re not done.”

“But I did exactly as you asked–”

“Like you said, he should be in a hospital right now, but we can’t have that happen, so instead, you’re gonna stay here till he’s out of the woods.” 

“What? I can’t–”

“You’re a nurse, right?” he croaked to shut you up, “so fucking do your job and nurse him back to health.”

Three whole days ended up passing by before Mr Barnes slowly began to regain consciousness. 

“Oh, you’re awake!” you snapped back into work mode, springing from your seat and leaning in over the bed which he’d previously been moved into. As the mobster instinctively began to sit up, his eyes barely open yet, you laid a soft palm upon his metal arm and uttered, “sir, please don’t move,” and watched as his clenched jaw almost silenced a groan, “one second, I’ll give you something for the pain,” before you shifted a moment to scavenge through the supplies you’d been given. Once the medicine was found, you exhaled slowly as you injected it, gently pressing down the plunger of the syringe, “there you go…” 

You let yourself suck in a deep breath before your sharp eyes washed over him, briefly assessing him as he woke, though as your gaze flickered up to meet his own, initially with the intent of checking his pupillary response, the manner he stared back at you caught you so of guard that a shiver trickled down your spine.  

“Sir, do you know what your name is?” you asked in a clear tone. 

“Mhm…” he hummed and continued to stare at you as if you were an angel, “Bucky…” 

“Bucky, great, that’s good,” you nodded, “and do you know where you are?”

His gaze didn’t shift away from your visage as he then murmured, “heaven…”

“No, I assure you, you’re not dead,” grasping the stethoscope draped around your neck, you shifted it into place to take a quick listen to his heart, “you almost were, a few times, but you aren’t.” 

As the steady thumping of his pulse filled your ears and seeped into your soul, his deep voice washed over you once again and layered atop the beat, “I’m guessing you had something to do with that?” 

Catching his unwavering eye a moment, you then averted yours and muttered, “I was just doing my job…” before retracting the stethoscope from his chest and casting your glance towards the door, “I should probably go tell the others that you’re awake.” 

TWO WEEKS LATER

“…and Mr Jensen in 401 is complaining of a headache, so you might wanna check that out as well.” 

“Alright, cool,” the doctor scribbled down the last of your words on the little notepad in his palm before his gaze flickered up to catch yours, “thank you so much, Y/n,” he flashed you a warm smile. 

Mirroring his expression, you hugged the charts in your grasp closer to your chest, “any time, Dr Parker.” 

“Peter, please,” his thumb extended to click the top of his blue pen before sliding it into the breast pocket of his white coat, “hey, I was gonna go grab a cup of coffee right now, do you wanna join?” he tried to keep his tone casual. 

Blinking back at him, your breath couldn’t help but get caught in your throat, “I–, uhm… I’d love to, but I get off in a little bit. Wednesdays are always just morning shifts for me.” 

“Oh, alright,” he nodded understandingly, though the gentle rejection still tainted his features slightly. 

“But another time,” you offered, successfully brightening his smile once more. 

“Yeah?” his elbow curled up to lean against the supportive railing that lined the hospital hallways. 

“Sure. I mean, I drink coffee, you drink coffee,” you awkwardly began to dig yourself into a hole, “the chances of us bumping into each other at the coffee cart are pretty high–” 

But your sentence was then cut short as Peter’s pager suddenly pinged in his pocket.

Fishing the small device out, his eyes flickered down to the small screen before he croaked, “oh, sorry. I gotta run.”

“Of course,” you swiftly waved a hand and watched as his feet began to shuffle into a run. 

“Talk later!” Peter called over his shoulder before he rounded a corner and disappeared into the maze of the hospital. 

Twisting around, your feet carried you the remaining distance towards the nurses’ station overlooking the ICU. As you laid the stack of files in your arms down on the counter, a familiar voice found your ears right before her visage popped into your periphery.

“Please tell me that that was what I think it was.” 

Your gaze stayed glued on the charts a moment longer as you ignored your friend’s prying, “hello to you too, Kate.”

When your head finally raised and you let her catch your eye, her wide ones questioned you before she expectantly poked once more, “well?”

“Well what?” you shrugged, though your feeble attempts at shutting the pending subject down failed as she shot you a glare, efficiently causing you to crumble with a sigh, “yes, he asked me out again–, or kinda. It was just coffee.”

“And you finally said yes?” she smiled keenly. 

Holding back your scoff, you simply uttered, “no,” before spinning on your heel. 

“Again?” she shuffled slightly to catch up to the pace you swiftly slipped into, “why not? He’s kind, he’s a doctor, he’s hot,” she listed off, counting on her fingers, “he’s literally perfect for you.”

“I know he is…” you tilted your head, almost with an air of shame, “he’s exactly the type of guy that I should be running after…” 

Though you liked him as a person and cared for him enough to call him your friend, those feelings you caught yourself forcing just hadn’t bubbled up yet. He was the kind of man that you deserved, that you should fall for, and certainly not the monster that still haunted you, that for some reason wouldn’t stop popping into your mind, especially at inappropriate times, like very late at night… 

“So then why aren’t you?” Kate asked as you entered the employee locker room.

And though thoughts of a gruff gangster caused your heart to swell, you still muttered, “I don’t know…” as an excuse before you popped open your locker and uttered, “hey… what do you know about mobsters here in the city?

“Other than the horror stories I’ve picked up in the ER, not too much,” she leaned against the row of cubbies beside your own as you dug out your bag and began to change out of your scrubs and back into the clothes you’d worn early this morning when the sun was still only a promise waiting to rise, “though I did grow up here, so I probably do know a bit more than you,” she acknowledged your move to the city only a few years prior, “why? Are you suddenly in the mood for a change in careers?”

Though the truth was on the tip of your tongue, you still found yourself obeying the commands the gangsters had sent you home with. Telling the cops was no use because they were all in their pockets, and confiding in a loved one also wasn’t a smart choice as that would only put them in danger. 

“Have you ever heard of someone called Bucky Barnes?” you asked, instinctively lowering your voice to a whisper. 

The ever light-hearted expression plastered upon Kate’s face fell at the recognition of that name, “yeah…”

“Really?” your brows rose, “what do you know about him?” 

“I mean, other than that he’s the supposed leader of the Avengers, not too much.”

“The Avengers?”

“Yeah, one of New York’s most notorious gangs,” she let out a breath, “from what little I know, they get up to a shit ton of stuff straight out of a De Niro movie or something, but their real money maker is cocaine… I mean, that’s why the head of the group is known as the winter soldier.” 

“How do you know about all this stuff?” you squinted back at her in slight amazement. 

“Went to med school with a few coke heads, might have dated one of them,” she blurted before shaking her head and getting back to the subject at hand, “anyways, Y/n, the point is, you don’t wanna mess with those types, trust me.” 

“I know,” you uttered quietly as you shrugged on your coat and pushed your locker closed, “I wasn’t planning on it, I was just curious…” 

As you dragged your foaming toothbrush over the last of your teeth, a loud knock suddenly rattled your front door, causing you to jump atop the pink bathmat in your tiny bathroom. 

Neck twisted out towards the entryway of your apartment, you briefly leaned over the sink to spit out the toothpaste slowly leaking out of your mouth, before your feet began to carry you towards the exit. 

One of your palms momentarily ran over the edge of your pyjama-clad arm as the night chill soaked through the cotton and made you yearn for the warmth of your bed. 

Though as you pulled on the handle, the haunting figures on the other side of the door caused your blood to freeze with recognition. Standing tall on the other side of the threshold, there stood two of the Avengers’ henchmen. 

“You need to come with us,” the one called Barton ordered coldly. Over the few days the gang had held you captive, you’d picked up on the names of many of the members, including the two that stood before you now. 

“What?” your chest rose and fell rapidly, “I–, please, I swear, I haven’t told a soul.”

Having them knock at your door was one thing, but even just the thought of criminals such as them knowing where you lived sent you into a spiral. 

“Yeah, we know you haven’t,” Scott put a hand on the doorframe, “that’s not why we’re here.” 

“What happened?” you murmured as you were led into one of the many sitting rooms in the mysterious manor they once again brought you to. In an armchair before you, half-empty glass of bourbon in metal hand and the sleeves rolled up on his blood-tainted shirt, there sat the big bad winter soldier himself, panting as he slowly sipped. 

Though when the sound of your voice filled the room, Bucky’s eyes only snapped up to yours for a moment before he shot a glare at his men.

“What is she doing here?” he grumbled lowly. 

“Boss, you busted your stitches,” Lang gestured tensely to the crimson slowly staining his crisp white shirt, “what else were we–”

Intersecting the conversation, the broad form of Steve stepped into the space between the gangsters and swiftly snuffed the pending argument out, “thank you, Barton, Lang,” he nodded to each of them, “you can go,” and you watched the pair that had brought you back exited the room. Shifting his weight, Bucky’s right hand man turned to you and offered you a polite smile, “Y/n, pleasure to see you again.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled, not masking your disdain of the situation you’d been dragged into yet again, “I wish I could say the same…” before you shifted your eyes to the man in the chair, though still directed your question at Steve, “what do you need me to do?” 

As you shifted closer to the intimidating leader, ever drinking, surely to dull the pain, Rogers murmured as you kneeled down to assess, “I think it’s just the one on his shoulder that’s–”

“Yeah, I see it,” you cut him off, then glanced back over your shoulder at him, “do you still have that medical bag?”

“Yeah, one second,” he swiftly disappeared to fetch it, leaving you all alone with the feared mob boss. 

With the crackling fireplace off to the side as your only source of light, you cautiously raised your hands and asked, “do you mind taking this off?” motioning to the shirt he wore. 

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky sighed and sat down his glass before shrugging the item off. Though you’d stared at his bare chest for hours on end before, soaking in his reveal once again for some reason caused your heartbeat to pick up, though you swiftly averted your gaze in an attempt at staying professional. 

Not long passed before Rogers had returned with the supplies, and you’d commenced redoing his stitches. 

“So,” you murmured though your concentration, weaving his skin back together, “do I even wanna know how this happened?”

Blinking down at you, your face close to your work and therefore his skin, Bucky breathed, “probably not...” and as his stare only intensified over the next few stitches, his low timbre once again washed over you as the corners of his lips tugged into the slightest of smirks, “cute PJs, by the way…”

“Yeah, I didn’t exactly get a chance to change,” you felt your cheeks heat up. 

“Oh, I'm not complaining,” his gaze shifted to take in the way the cool night air had caused your nipples to become visible like pebbles beneath the thin stripy fabric, the comment making you shift tensely on your knees. 

Once the last of the knots were tied off and you’d snipped the end of the thread, you wrapped the wounds back up with clean bandages before placing the roll of gauze back into the medical bag. 

“Alright, uhm,” you shifted back, “you’re good now,” a slight winch shot through you as you watched him briefly test out his arm’s mobility, “just be careful, try not to use it too much.”

Catching your eye, he uttered softly, “thank you,” before shifting his gaze to the gangster by the door, “Rogers?” 

“Yes, boss?”

“See to it that she gets home safe.”

ONE MONTH LATER

“I’ve heard the risotto here is really good,” Peter noted as you both skimmed the menus resting on the tablecloth before you, the crystal chandeliers illuminating the restaurant cast a soft glow down upon the choices.  

“Yeah?” you briefly glanced up to catch the doctor’s eye, “well, maybe I should get that then,” you shrugged before shifting slightly in your seat, “hey,” you captured his gaze once more, “could you maybe order for me? I just need to–…” you trailed off, letting the thumb you discreetly pointed over your shoulder in the direction of the bathrooms fill out the rest of the sentence. 

“Oh, yeah, of course,” he nodded. 

“Great, thank you,” you smiled as you rose. The long, cobalt-blue, velvet dress you wore briefly swooshed around your legs before the soft click of your heels against the polished floors carried you through the maze of tables. 

It was the third date you’d ventured on with the kind doctor. The third one and yet you still didn’t have any feelings towards him. 

Stubbornly trying as you might, you still couldn’t get the poison out of your system and do the right thing. 

Once you exited the ladies’ room, and big breath of courage in your lungs as you pushed open the door, it all seeped out as you walked through the small hallway that connected the lavatories with the dining space, and you accidentally bumped into two figures that waited in the space. 

Unsure of who was to blame for the collision, you immediately just muttered, “oh, sorry–,” before you glanced up at the pair and your apology crumbled from your lips, your frame immediately freezing up at the recognition. 

“Listen to me. You are going to quietly walk back to your little date, tell him that you’re not feeling well and need to go home,” Stark kept his voice hushed as both he and the other gangster slowly cornered you, the other one grasping your arm to keep you in place, “and then you’re gonna come with us.”

Sucking in a breath, you then tilted your chin slightly, “and if I don’t?” 

“Then we won’t hesitate to make a scene,” Barton shifted the edge of his jacket out of the way to flash you the gun strapped beneath, “so you can either walk with us and safe a life or you can not only have a dying gangster’s blood on your hands, but also everyone in this fucking restaurant.”

With the clench of your jaw, you glared up at them and murmured, “...fine,” before you ripped your arm free and began to walk back into the dining area and the table where Peter still sat. 

Flashing you a smile as you neared, the doctor swiftly said, “so, I ordered this chardonnay that the waiter said was good. You drink wine, right?”

“I–, uhm…” your fingers clutched the back of the chair as you tried to appear as you had before, even though now you felt as if your hammering heart might spring straight out of your ribcage, “Peter, I’m really sorry, but I gotta go,” you briefly scrambled your brain before adding, “the hospital paged me. There was a big accident downtown.”

“Really?” he fished out his own beeper from his pocket and furrowed down at it, “I didn’t get paged, so it probably can’t be that bad.”

“Yeah, but nurses shortage, you know?” 

“Right,” he nodded, disappointment slightly polluting his understanding expression. 

“I'm really sorry,” you uttered as you picked up your small purse from the chair.

“No, it’s fine,” he shook his head gently, “hey, I get it,” he shrugged before waving a hand, “go.”

“Thank you,” you stood there a moment longer, unsure of how you should depart, “uhm… bye,” before you awkwardly shifted closer to his seat and leaned down to press a brief kiss to his cheek as you offered him a half-hearted hug. 

“Who is it this time?” you sighed as you were led into an elegant space, surely intended for parties judging by the long bar that stretched along the back wall. Glaring at the only man seated on one of the barstools, you asked impatiently, “is it you? Did you hurt yourself again?”

Glancing over his shoulder as you halted your stride halfway down the short steps, a smile appeared on Bucky’s face as he leaned a forearm against the bar top and bellowed, “Y/n! Come, have a drink with me,” he waved a hand for you to take the seat beside him. 

Standing your ground, you squinted back at him in confusion, “no, I can’t, I–, where’s the patient?” 

“The patient?” he echoed as if you were speaking a foreign language. 

“Yes,” you huffed, your annoyance simmering into a full-on boil, “the person who’s on death’s door, the reason why I, a medical professional, is here,” you placed your hands on your hips and asked once again, “is it you?”

“No, I’m phenomenal,” he pursed his lips as he snatched up the stout glass waiting for him on the marble counter, “never been better.”

“Okay, so who is it?”

Tearing his gaze away from you, he then uttered, “no one,” before raising the drink up to his lips. As your mouth parted and your glare nearly burned straight through him, the mobster casually added, “you look stunning, by the way,” before twisting in his seat to face you more, “I didn’t know they changed scrubs out with gowns.” 

“No, I–, I was on a date–,” you muttered faintly through your confusion, slightly shaking your head in an attempt to clear it before you raised a hand, “wait, excuse me, no one’s injured?” 

“No,” Barnes shook his head, “no one’s hurt or dying,” then added as if your reaction was a tad bit too dramatic for his taste, “you can relax, it’s fine.”

But instead, the opposite emotions roiled inside of you as you slowly ascended a single one of the remaining steps, “so you mean to tell me that your men threatened me, my date and a whole restaurant of people, then dragged me all the way out here again, for nothing?” you fumed.

“No, it wasn’t for nothing,” he shrugged, “they brought you back here because I told them to,” he kept his ocean eyes upon you as he once again repeated, “now, come drink with me.” 

“No, I don’t want a fucking drink,” you roared. 

But then, just as swiftly as you had raised your voice, Bucky’s steely hand dipped beneath his suit jacket and pulled out a gun.  

“I asked you nicely,” his stern tone rolled off his tongue slowly as he aimed the weapon upon you, “now sit your ass down and share a drink with me.” 

Carefully, you finally followed his orders and sat down at the bar beside him. 

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he uttered as he sat the gun down beside his drink. Raising up a hand to the silent shadow behind the bar, a glass was soon slid across the counter, one Bukcy pushed closer towards you, “here,” he said as you stared down at the orange peel floating at the top. As you lifted up the cocktail, the gangster beside you raised his own to click yours, “cheers.”

You briefly toyed with the thought of just taking a sip, though opted instead to down it all, both out of the desperate hope that the alcohol would aid the strange evening, but also in an attempt to fast forward a tad closer to your longed-for departure, ripping the bandage off instead of nursing it all night long. 

Though as you sat the glass back down on the bar, the bottom clanged against the marble much more forcefully than you’d intended as the fingers you clutched it with began to tingle. Blinking heavily a few times, your hand accidentally knocked over the empty drink as a numbing sensation began to bloom within your chest and spread throughout your body. 

Trying to get up from your seat, you mumbled foggily, “what the hell?” though quickly stumbled as your legs felt like jelly beneath your velvet gown.

“Whoa, careful now, angel,” Bucky’s calm gaze trailed you chillingly as you tried to steady yourself. 

“The fuck did you do?” you panted as your wide eyes watched him raise from his seat. 

“It's okay,” he uttered softly, “it’s all gonna be okay,” before your world turned to black and you passed out into his arms. 

When you finally stirred, you were no longer at the bar, nor any other room you’d been in before. You were in a bedroom, situated on a spacious mattress and alongside countless fluffy maroon pillows. 

As you sat up, a low rustling found your ears and drew your vision down towards the coldness clinging around your ankle. Strung between the bottom corner of the bedframe and your own foot, there shined a chain, one that, try as you instinctively did, you couldn’t snap out of. 

But then, as the door to the room creaked open and caused your body to flinch, a plea swiftly flowed out of you as you watched Rogers step inside, balancing a small tray with a glass and a tall decanter of clear water. 

“Steve!” you crawled to the bottom of the bed, “I–… help me, please,” you begged, hearing tears thicken up your voice as they rolled down your cheeks, “you’re a good man, deep down I know you don’t wanna stand by and let this happen. Can you unlock me? Please? Help me get out of here.”

But just as you waited for Steve’s lips to part, you instead heard, “shh, don’t waste your breath, honey,” as in strolled Bucky, causing you to swiftly scramble as far back on the bed as the chain would allow. 

Sitting down in a chair just out of your reach, the fireplace opposing the bed, directly behind where he sat, clacked and lit up his spine as he settled into the seat and directed his cold gaze upon you.

“Glad to see you awake,” he uttered calmly.

“Fuck you!” you swiftly spat as you hugged your knees tightly to your chest. 

“And with all of your charms still intact,” he tilted his head, a light smirk blooming on his lips as your vulgar language hadn’t fazed him one bit. 

“Let me go,” you demanded. 

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, my angel,” his burly arms folded across his chest, “this is for your own protection,” he briefly gestured to the chain, “we wouldn’t want you to do anything stupid or rash now, would we?” one of his eyebrows twitched, “I can’t let anything happen to you,” he uttered as you continued to stare daggers at him, “you need to be kept as safe as possible so you can keep on helping me the way that you have.”

“What? You want me to be your gang’s personal nurse?” you scoffed, “is this your sick and twisted way of offering me a job, because if so, no thanks!”

“Yeah, no, this isn’t a job offering, I’m not interested in those talents of yours,” he leaned further back in the seat before he began to explain, “you see, for the past few years, I’ve had a serious string of bad luck. Deals have fallen through, rats have been found, the feds have been snipping at our heels and countless of my men have lost their lives,” he listed off, “but, then I met you,” his eyes flickered up to capture your own, “and it all turned around,” he uttered, “I tell you, when you’re here, it’s fate herself is on my side and nothing whatsoever could go wrong. Like having you has made me a fucking god or something, that’s the level of power you’ve bestowed in me,” a faint smile tugged at his lips as those words rolled off his tongue, “so no, you can not leave. You have to stay right here where I can make sure you’re safe and sound. Although, just because you get to be kept safe, that doesn’t mean you’re free of any consequences if you step out of line… it also doesn’t mean that I’ll deny anyone of your beauty if it pleases them… so, I guess it’s more along the lines of you just staying alive under my watch.” 

In the blind rage his words threw you into, your fingers wrapped around the bedside lamp before you chucked it across the room. Though just before it could strike the gangster’s head, he casually ducked out of the way, the lamp instead smashing on the floor behind him as a chuckle began to rumble within his chest. 

“That’s cute,” he laughed lowly, “you’ve got some bite. It’ll get you in trouble, but it’s adorable.” 

“I'm not interested in being your good luck charm, you superstitious fuck!” you yelled as he got up from his seat. 

Huffing out a condescending grin, “give it some time, angel,” he fastened the button on his dark suit jacket before smoothing a palm down over the front, “the human psyche is much more fragile than you’d think and can get used to some surprising conditions,” he ignored the scream that desperately tore from your lungs and instead turned to Steve standing by the door and asked him calming, “Rogers, would you mind cleaning that up?” gesturing to the broken lamp on the floor, and as he received a small nod in return, he murmured, “thank you,” before exiting the room and leaving you to your fate. 

“Seriously?” Steve let out a laugh when he finally coaxed the truth out as to why you hadn’t been touching any of the food they’d brought you, “and here I thought you were just a picky eater.” 

“Well, you’ve already drugged me once so what’s stopping you from doing it again,” you explained, glaring down at the plate before you as he attempted to stifle his laughter. 

“I swear, cross my heart, your pasta is not poisoned.”

Continuing to squint down at the food, you kissed your teeth, “prove it.”

“Really?” his brows floated up, “alright,” he sighed as he sat down across from you. Dragging your plate closer, he twirled some of the spaghetti onto the fork before slipping it into his mouth, “see?” he chewed, “I’m fine, and so will you be when you get some food in that belly of yours.”

Pushing it back towards you, hesitantly, you picked up the fork and slowly began to eat. It had only been little things you’d consumed the past couple of days being here, things you could be certain weren’t tainted, like the odd apple and such. 

Though as you chewed and finally began to settle your stomach’s nauseating rumbling, tears began to stream down your cheeks. 

No matter how hard you tried to beg, none of the mobsters would help you, as their loyalty was just too hard for you to crack. 

“Hey…” your bloodshot eyes then flickered up to Rogers as he noticed your weeping, “it’ll get easier, I promise,” he attempted in a soft tone. 

“How?” you blinked back at him hopelessly, “I am being locked up in a room by a maniac as if I’m just some trinket for him to own.” 

Throwing a brief glance over his shoulder, he then leaned in a bit closer to cautiously advise you, “…there might be some things you could do to change your situation…”

“What?” a spark suddenly flickered within you, “I’d do anything.”

“…you might consider trying to get closer to Barnes…” his words remained hesitant, “…if he begins to care for you, then he might treat you differently…”

“Like, he’d let me go?” 

“I don’t know,” he exhaled, “but maybe it could get that chain off your ankle,” he gestured to your foot, “baby steps.” 

ONE MONTH LATER

“Here,” Steve croaked as he suddenly burst through the doors to your room, a big flat box in his arms which he tossed on the bed beside you. Peeking inside, a folded-up bundle of black fabric met your eye, “put it on,” he ordered hastily, “make yourself presentable.”

“Why?” you blinked up at him, your brows knitting gently together. 

“Because the boss requested it,” he answered impatiently. 

“What, he wants to play dress up with me now? Treat me like a doll?”

Over the past month, you had gone from being scared out of your mind, barely sleeping at night, horrified of what they might do to you, till the paralysing fear slowly began to melt away as not much happened at all, in fact so little that you grew bored in your imprisonment, thinking that the big bad gangsters were just all bark and no bite. Perhaps that was a dangerous confidence to develop, growing cocky in your restlessness, but you couldn’t help it. 

Letting out a low sigh, “just put it on,” Rogers’ head tilted before he said, “I’ll be outside, yell when you’re done.”

Popping the lid off all the way, you then slipped into the black gown waiting within. It was long and simple in its beauty as it hugged all of your curves like a second skin. 

Right before you called out to the mobster in the hallway, you leaned in closer to the mirror on the left side of the room. The dark storm clouds visible out the gothic windows that filled up the wall behind you blossomed in the reflection alongside you as you momentarily fussed with your hair to make it match the elegant dress better. 

Once Steve had entered the room once again, the very last thing you expected was what he did next. 

Walking straight up to you, without a word, he bent down and unlocked the chain binding you to the bedpost. At first, a wave of hope washed over you till it was drowned out by the unsettling notion as to where he would take you and just what plans were on the horizon. 

Grabbing you by the arm, he dragged you out of the room and down the dark hallway you’d only seen glimpses of before. You tried to ask him what was going on, though he didn’t offer you any clue in return, only remained silent as he hauled you through the maze-like manor till a wide set of steps found you, leading you down into a garage where a group of the other gangsters already stood beside the black car rolled up by the base of the stairs. 

Standing in the middle with an arm resting against the roof of the vehicle, Bucky’s gaze swiftly landed upon you as you ascended the stone steps. 

“Well,” the mob boss’ eyes roamed your form, “don’t you look pretty.”

Biting your tongue, you greeted him politely, “Mr Barnes.”

“Shall we go?” he cracked open one of the car doors. 

“Where?” you tried, though your question only caused him to breathe out a smile as he ignored it and instead commanded softly. 

“Get in the car, angel,” his metal arm rested atop the door. 

Riding in a different vehicle than you, it was Clint who slipped in behind the wheel of your car and drove you the silent route towards the mysterious destination. 

Though once the car came to a stop, the door to your left cracked open from the outside and there to greet you was an outstretched metal hand to help you exit. 

You didn’t recognise the building that loomed before you, though it was grand and opulent with large steps leading you and all the other arrivals up to what sounded like a party already buzzing on.

“So, you needed a date,” you exhaled as Barnes took your arm and began to lead you up the stairs, a cluster of his men shadowing behind you both. 

“No,” he cocked his head, “I didn’t need it...”

Casting your glance around at the other guests that passed, you asked, “what kinda party is this anyway? Let me guess, human trafficking auction?” you were completely serious, though still managed to make the gangster laugh gently. 

“It’s a wedding,” his chuckle finished billowing out of his lungs, “or a funeral,” he tilted his head, “I'm not quite sure.”

“How could you not be sure?” you shot him a glance as you reached the top of the steps and he dragged you inside the marbled halls, “there’s a pretty significant difference.”

“They all just kinda melt together at this point,” he sighed, “I have at least one of these a week I gotta show my face at, just out of respect.” 

Taking a look around, you uttered, “well, do you at least know who this funeral wedding is for?”

“No fucking clue,” he exhaled before following the signs and leading you into the venue’s ballroom.

Turns out it was a wedding for some couple you hadn’t yet spotted, though you’d already read their names a thousand times with all the stuff they were plastered upon. 

You stayed quiet and lingered by Bucky’s side as he shook some people’s hands and made some small talk before the two of you found yourselves seated at one of the many round tables in the hall. 

Blinking up at the floral centrepiece, your fingers fiddled with the white tablecloth as the hours rolled by. Soon, not only the complementary glass of champagne you’d been handed back when you arrived was sloshing in your belly, but also quite a bit more alcohol as you decided that was a good tool to make the evening more bearable. 

It however also came with the hindrance of boosting your cockiness as you eventually found yourself poking the bear. 

“You know for a big bad gangster,” you stared over at him, leaned back in the seat next to yours, “you’re actually not that scary up close,” you pursed your lips, causing a chuckle to rumble within his chest because of just how untrue that statement was, “smiling at everyone, being polite. Are you sure you really are the big bad winter solider? The king of New York with no heart and only an imagination for torture…”

“Well…” he huffed out a short laugh as he met your gaze, “don’t you have me just all figured out.”

“Some of your guys may have filled me in a bit,” you tilted your head. 

“Have they now?” he continued to look amused. 

“Yeah, well, a bit at least,” you seized your glass and took another sip.

As you placed the flute back down on the table and rested your cheek in a propped-up palm, your stare only intensified into a squint as Bucky’s eyes flickered back around the room.

But as his gaze fluttered back to notice your gawking, he muttered, “what?”

“Why aren’t you mean tonight?” you uttered through the haze fuzzing up your mind. 

Tongue flicking out to wet his lips, his eyes briefly dipped before he uttered, “do you want me to be mean?” a playful smirk twitched at the corner of his lip in a threat to appear. 

“Is it all just a lie?” you asked, the subtext of his previous words flowing directly over your dizzy head. 

“What?”

Squinting back at him, you then breathed, “there’s always a part of me that’s still scared, imagining what you might do to me… but now,” you slowly drew out, “I don’t think you’re actually ever gonna do anything,” you blindly decided, “that’s not really who you are, they’re all just empty threats…” 

“Hm…” he hummed, a slight smile blooming upon his lips as he stared back at you, “okay…” before he leaned in closer to utter, “and just what makes you think that I haven’t already?” your face immediately dropped as his words caused your frame to freeze up, “tell me, Y/n,” his breath fanned across your cheeks, “did you sleep well last night? Or the night before for that matter, or–, well, just during the time you’ve spent here with me?”

As your shock not only showed in your expression but also in your complete lack of speech, he simply grinned back at your stunned features before grabbing you by the hand and breaking the moment. 

“Come on,” he dragged you with him as he then stood up himself, “let’s dance.”

With an argument on the tip of your tongue, the appendage, just as the rest of you, still remained too dumbfounded for it to come to fruition. You didn’t manage to gather your wits once again till he had you on the middle of the floor, wide hand on your waist as you swayed to the music. 

As his hold slowly tightened and he brought you closer to his broad frame, your breath suddenly hitched as you blinked up into his eyes, the air between you growing thick. The hand that grasped your own near swallowed your palm in a dizzying contrast. Goosebumps began to erupt across your skin as you felt your heartbeat thump not only in your chest, but also much further south, a mortifying clue to the dark truth you hoped he didn’t somehow notice. 

Gliding his palm up the length of your spine, it came to rest between your shoulder blades as he then drew you in closer and your gaze fell to the band strumming over his shoulder. 

“Does the thought of me playing with you at night turn you on?” he whispered in your ear and continued to gently sway you to the music, “because if you want me to wake you, all you have to do is ask. Though my attempts so far at rubbing your luck off on me have been rather eventful, I’m still sure it would be better if you gave me a bit of a hand…” 

Tilting your head back to blink up at him, you thought you were gonna spit him in the face for making such an accusation, till your stare acted of its own accord and fluttered down to fixate on his lips. 

It almost felt as if they were calling for you, begging you closer like a stubborn magnet. But before you could close the short distance that kept you two apart, Barton appeared in your periphery and tapped his boss on the shoulder. 

As he leaned in to whisper in his ear, you couldn’t pick up on the words over the music, though watched as Bucky’s face swiftly grew hard. 

“What’s going on?” you asked as the secretive message came to an end and the mobster’s wide hands faded from your frame. 

Ignoring your question, Bucky instead cast his glance over your head at one of the men behind you and ordered sternly, “Stark? Get her home, now.”

“What’s happening?” you tried again, though without success as Tony dragged you away and the remaining gathered to converse in hushed tones.

Perhaps it was because of the chaos of whatever was happening, perhaps just a simple mistake, but when you returned back to the manor, the shackle wasn’t reunited with your ankle. 

Not willing to let that gift slip through your fingers, you soon grasped that opportunity tight and made an attempt at your escape. 

Sneaking down the many hallways, you successfully hid from a handful of gruff-looking men before you realised you couldn’t remember the path to the garage or any other way out of the labyrinth of a building that kept you swallowed in the dark. 

However, your mission turned into a swiftly sinking ship as soon as you rounded the wrong corner and crossed the threshold of the last room you should have entered. 

In the centre of the space stood two chairs, both with individuals strapped to them, though only one of them was still alive. Before the seated pair and with his back turned to your frozen-up form, there stood Bucky. Returned from the party and with both his jacket and tie torn off, his sleeves were rolled up though still tainted in small crimson flecks of the deed he’d just done. 

“Come on, Vladimir…” Barnes uttered as he kneeled down in front of the battered man still breathing, neither he nor the other members in the room haven noticed you in the doorway, “just give me what I want and we can wrap this up.”

Wheezing painfully through his broken nose, the man met Bucky’s steely gaze before fulfilling his request, “…I’m sorry…”

“Hm?” he leaned in pettily, “what was that?”

“I’m sorry,” the tied-up man repeated with a laboured huff.

“Okay, getting there,” he nodded, “what are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry for killing Bruce…” the name rolled off Vladimir’s tongue like a crackle to a bonfire. 

“And?” Bucky fished. 

“For hurting you…” 

“See? That wasn’t so bad now,” Barnes straightened back up, “an apology, a life for the one you took from me, and now there’s just one last thing left to do, and then we’re even,” he then took one step back and conjured his gun. Aiming it at the Russian, barely a second passed before a shot deafened everyone’s ears and a bullet blasted through the tied-up man’s arm, mirroring the injuries Bucky himself had sustained. The loud blast and the bloodcurdling scream that tore from Vladimir, however, caught you so off guard that a shriek slipped from you as you flinched, revealing your presence as everybody’s eyes suddenly shifted to train on you. Glancing over his shoulder, Bucky grunted, “what are you doing out? What is she doing out?” he shot his glare in the direction of Steve off to the side, “Rogers? Get her back into bed.”

“Yes, boss,” his right-hand man swiftly nodded before catching up to you in two long steps and seizing your arm. 

And as you were dragged back to your doom, your eyes caught the tail end as Barnes let out a sigh and turned back around to face his victim, “now, where were we? Right! I believe the other one was right around here,” another gunshot echoed in the manor as he shot Vladimir’s arm once more, “and now, we can’t forget about the ones that only skimmed me, so get up and don’t fucking flinch, it’s on you if I hit your lung.”

The chain reunited with your ankle jingled as you twisted on the bed to cast your gaze out the window. Heavy rain hammered against the tall panes as the restless city twinkled through the darkness of the night. In the corner of the room, Steve watched up like a hawk as you continuously failed to find rest. 

But then, just as you thought you felt your heartbeat return to a normal rhythm, the double doors burst open and in paced Bucky. 

“Is she awake?” he huffed, though didn’t wait for an answer before he heatedly went on, “okay, great.”

As his rushed steps halted by the foot of your bed, the look in his eye caused your body to shudder.  

“Rogers?” he kept his cold stare glued on you as he uttered, “go wait outside.”

Though you silently pleaded with your eyes for the mobster to stay, it was no use as Steve swiftly shut the doors behind him. 

As the man before you then shifted, your wide eyes finally noticed the bundle of rope in his grasp as he began to unravel it. Scrambling back, you didn’t manage to crawl far away before Bucky caught the chain and yanked it hard enough to force your frame down towards him. Though your struggling finally fizzled out when the gangster pulled out his gun, the very gun he’d just ended a life with, and aimed it at your head to get you to comply. 

“You know,” he uttered gruffly like a pent-up bull, “I’ve been nice, I’ve been real well behaved, kept my manners intact, been a goddamn gentleman,” the heavy weapon in his hand tilted slightly to emphasise his words, “but evidently, that’s not what you need to learn your fucking place,” he fumed before letting out a low exhale, “that’s alright…”

“Bucky, please,” tears blurred your vision as you held up your palms, “I-I understand, I’m sorry, you don’t have to do this.” 

“Oh, but I do…” he sighed almost softly as he then kneeled down closer and let the tip of the cool barrel stroke your cheek, “…if you don’t break a horse, then she’ll never be tamed…” his eyes trailed after the line he drew before it flickered up to find your own, “now give me your hands,” he ordered and hesitantly, you shakily obeyed. 

Since you couldn’t stay in your place, he simply had to tie you down better. 

Unfurling the rope in his grasp, the mobster then fastened the cord around not only both of your wrists, but also your free ankle. After each of the tight knots were tied off, he yanked each appendage to the nearest corner of the bedframe, spreading your limbs till you looked like a starfish on the mattress. 

Taking a step back to admire his handiwork, his fingers then dipped down into his pocket before a slight furrow found his brow as his touch didn’t locate the item he fished for. Placing the heavy gun in his palm down on the fireplace mantel, he then closed the distance towards the exit and cracked open the door just a smidge. 

“Rogers?” he extended a hand through the sliver, “give me your knife,” to which a switchblade was swiftly placed in his palm, replacing his own which was still lodged deeply inside the corpse of the Russian in the other room. 

Slamming the door behind him, he then crossed the room and silently began to cut your clothes off. The black gown you still wore came off with only a few slices, though your underwear, that he took his time with, slowly grazing the blade over your goosebump-ridden flesh before nicking the cotton clinging tightly to your frame. 

Once you were bare before him, his feet shuffled back slightly as he let his stare soak up every millimetre of you. 

A hand floated up to tug on his tie and loosen it slightly from around the collar still dappled with the blood of his enemy. Folding closed the knife with a faint flourish, he then sank down into the armchair directly behind him. The tattered panties he’d sliced from you were still clutched tightly in his hand as his eyes stayed glued upon your frame. Bringing the fabric up to his nose, his blue eyes then fluttered closed for a second as he breathed deeply, letting the scent of you flood his senses. 

But as he stuffed the cotton down into his pocket and let his palm drift to somewhere else, your eyes grew even wider as you gasped, “what are you–”

“Just shut up, please,” he groaned, sounding like he was at his very last straw as he brashly began to rub himself through his pants, “just for one fucking second, don’t be a brat.”

Your jaw couldn’t help but hit the floor as he shamelessly pulled out his cock, letting the intimidating hardness spring free of its confines before he spit in his palm and enclosed his fist around the fat girth. You wanted to look away, you truly did, but you just couldn’t, a flaw he obviously noticed. 

“You’re unbelievable…” he chuckled as his fist silkily stroked up and down his cock, the mixture of his own spit and the precum beading at the tip caused a sloppy melody to fill the room at each and every twist, “I mean, me being into you, that’s one thing, that makes sense, you’re the closest thing to magic that I’ve ever experienced, so of course that’s enough to get me going, but you… you’re the very textbook definition of a good girl and here you are pining after–, how was it again you put it? A superstitious fuck?” 

Stunned at his accusation, you tried to tear your stare away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Really? Well, I didn’t take you for a fool, but hey,” he tilted his head, “some folks are just that disconnected to their own feelings.”

Blinking back at him, you scoffed faintly, “you’re crazy, I’m not–…” but you couldn’t even say it out loud as you, deep down, knew that it was a lie. 

“Oh yeah?” he cocked a brow, finding your flustered state amusing, “then why did you almost kiss me tonight?”

“I–…I was drunk.” 

Letting out a dark chuckle, “alright, sure,” he then rose from his seat and crawled up on the bed with you before he buried his face between your parted thighs, “if you despise me so much, then why are you so fucking wet?” his hot breath fanned across your core. 

“I’m not–,” you tried, though your attempt then fell short as he proved you wrong, reaching out his touch to tickle at your lightly and let the wet sounds of your arousal slosh into your soul. 

“Hm?” the broad pad of his thumb gently brushed over your glistening petals, making them part for him, “if this isn’t because deep down you want me, then why? I’d love to hear you try and explain your way out of this one…”

“I-I–…” your eyes fluttered as you tried to fight the feeling, “I don’t…” 

Laughing lightly through the scoff that then bubbled out of him, he averted his gaze and said, “okay, fine. You wanna play that game?” his eyes flickered back up to find yours, “if you need a bit of help in order to admit the truth, then that’s what you’ll get,” he uttered before suddenly stuffing two of his fingers inside of you. 

Craning his neck, he tilted down to catch a taste. You tried to hold back your moans as his digits caressed you, but the softness of his velvety tongue came as such a shock that a little squeak managed to slip out past your lips. 

“I mean, if it’s any consolation,” his stubbly chin glimmered with your essence as he retracted slightly to smirk, “I personally think it’s kinda cute that you have a crush on me like a little schoolgirl…” 

He then sent his palm down upon your pussy in a wet smack, before repeating the action a couple of times to echo the jolt it shot through your body. 

“Fuck…” he groaned in a low rumble, “you are so much more pretty awake…” he revealed casually, “sure, you make some cute noises in your sleep, but not like this,” you instinctually tried to stifle the uncontrollable whimpers that flowed from your lungs, “you should really be thanking me for all of the time and effort I’ve put into stretching this little hole of yours out,” his fingers continued to pump in and out of you, “if I hadn’t, well then you might just split in two when I finally get my cock in there.” 

And as he leaned down to lap you up once more, you curled your toes as you felt him push you closer to the edge. 

“Mr Barnes…” you attempted with an air of respect through your pants, “please don’t–…”

“Why? Because it makes you want to kiss me again?” he teasingly taunted you before continuing his persistent licks, bullying your clit into submission. 

And as he kept going, even as you gasped, “stop–, a-ah!” he still kept his lips locked around your puffy pearl long after a gush of squirt wept around his fingers, keeping his efforts up till your hips were bucking back in sensitivity. 

But when his kiss finally ceased, he let some of your juices, that had flooded into his mouth, trickle out past his lips and back down onto your pussy, “fuck…” his low groan nearly caused the whole room to rumble, “nasty little cunt…” before he slapped your throbbing core once more, watching as the last little trickle weakly leaked out and soaked the sheets below. 

Lifting himself up to hover above your constricted form, you then squirmed as you felt him nudge the bulbous tip of him against you. 

“Does the idea of liking, or even loving, someone like me scare you that much?” he uttered as he gathered up your slick and smeared it with his cock, “does it make you feel all wrong and icky inside that I of all people make you feel the way that you do?” 

All of the air in your lungs was then suddenly knocked clean out as he, with one long stroke, slipped all the way inside, before pulling right back out to tap the weight of him against your poor clit with the hold he had at his base. 

“You won’t spontaneously combust if you admit it out loud, you know…”

He repeated the motion, plugging you up completely before he denied your cunt the chance of getting used to the stretch. 

“I just wanna hear you say it…”

And on the next time he filled you up to the brim, this time his hips didn’t retract.

Reeling as you fought to comprehend the manner his girth split you open, you gasped weakly, “I can’t…”

“Hmm…” his eyes above you narrowed slightly before he pointed out, “that’s not a no,” and he began to move, “finally getting somewhere…”

The gangster was in no way gentle as he started to fuck your pussy, the selfish force of it caused your body to jostle every time his heavy balls tapped against your slick skin, thereby conducting a lewd beat each time he slammed into you. 

Lowing himself to get even closer to you, his nose ghosted against your own from the proximity. The gesture made you assume that he was about to press his lips to yours, though they never touched, even as your own instincts overwhelmed you and made you dizzily tilt up to try and close the gap, “nah-ah-ah,” he swiftly clicked his tongue and moved out of your reach, “admit the truth and then I’ll kiss you all you want.”

With his length still embedded deep within you, he sat back up. His fingers dented your hips as he grabbed onto them and then began to sink them harshly down against his own, lifting your frame entirely off of the mattress as he used you like a toy. 

“Oh god…” you whimpered as your eyes fluttered down to notice the faint bulge that appeared in your lower abdomen, the thrusting imprint of his size visibly showing just how deep he buried himself inside of you. 

Once he’d plopped your hips back down onto the bed, his hands then instead floated up to play with your tits, the rhythm he offered you causing them to jiggle in his palms. Though once he’d fiercely pinched your nipples and parted ways in a brief tap, his fingers then drifted further down south till his right hand found your puffy clit. 

Casting his glance down as he rubbed your pearl, a smirk appeared on his lip as he spotted the way your cream coated his girth. Sweeping down to smear his touch against it, what he did next caught you so off guard that you jostled wildly in your binds in an attempt to hit him for his audacity.

“Ahh!” you yelped as he stuffed two of his fingers in your pussy alongside his already overwhelming girth, “Buck, no, it’s too much!” 

But your squeak only caused him to chuckle as he stared down at the way your little hole struggled to take what he gave it, clinging around him so tightly that loud groans began to billow from him as he soon painted your insides white and pumped you full of his cum. 

With heavy breaths, he withdrew his dick, though let his digits stay inside your warmth. 

“Maybe in time you could become more than just my good luck charm…” he murmured as he flopped down to curl closer to your core, “would you like that?” he nipped at one of your thighs as his load slowly began to leak around his thick fingers, “does the idea of me falling down to my knees before you and declaring my undying love entice you, angel?” 

“You’ll just have to do better,” he continued as his digits began to twist within you, “let me mould you and make you perfect for me,” another one of his fingers was stuffed inside of you, causing your eyes to flutter, “just let go,” he breathed, “shut off your brain and let it become a leaky mess just like your pussy already is for me,” he worked another digit into your creamy cunt before grazing the last one against your stretched out opening, “you don’t need to think, you just need to do exactly as I tell you to and everything will be okay,” his tone was soft as his thumb curled close to the others and sank into your pussy with a pop, “just break for me, it’s okay,” your body was shaking beneath him as his entire fist slowly twisted within you, “you’ll be so much more perfect ruined…”

Tears were streaming down your face as you unravelled once more, trembling violently as your pussy clamped down around his wide hand so tightly that it was forced all the way out, a drizzle of your nectar once again spraying out at the intensity. 

“Alright!” you let out a sob, “alright… I–… I don’t understand it… but, I–…” you caught his eye and confessed, “ever since the moment I met you, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you… even when I fall asleep, it’s like you’re haunting me in my dreams…” a faint shake found your head as you blinked up at him through your blurry vision, “I don’t wanna feel this way. But–… I do.”

It seemed as though time stood still as Bucky stared down at you, an unreadable expression tinting his features before he finally shifted, slowly leaning down over you and inching closer before he finally pressed his lips to your own.

A faint whimper was muffled against his kiss as you felt the world crumble around you. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it now…” he breathed as he ended the soft peck, “say it again,” his hand slid over your jaw, “practice makes perfect.”

Blinking up into his eyes, you uttered from the bottom of your heart, “I am yours,” a single tear rolled down your cheek as you still trembled beneath him. 

“Damn right you are…” his lips tilted into a smile. 

Fishing out the borrowed switchblade that still rested within the gangster’s pocket, he then sliced through the ropes and constricted you. 

Tangling your arms around his neck as you sat up, you captured his lips once again and felt his touch slide down under your ass before he scooped you into his lap. Your sore pussy wept against his cock, once again throbbing and hard as a rock against your core. As your tongue danced against his own, you couldn’t help but scramble even closer, pressing your body impossibly close to his own as you grinded down against him. 

“You are mine,” he groaned as he manhandled your frame in his hold and sank you back down onto his fat dick, “you are my most prized possession,” your bodies met in sticky claps as the aftermath of the rough round moments before still oozed all over this one where passion crackled behind both of your own desperate efforts, “I will never let you go,” he blinked up into your eyes as you rode him, both of you clinging to each other as the end crept ever nearer, “always need you–,” his sentence was briefly broken up by a moan as you rolled your hips, your pussy gripping around him and squeezing him tightly, “need you by my side…” 

Once your synced-up orgasms had both shuddered your senses and you were sharing each other’s breath, your eyes remained locked as his throbbing cock stayed buried deep within you.

“So, what now?” your chest rose and fell as you whispered into the night, the pitter-patter of rain splashing against your windows once again catching your attention as it swept over and mingled with your laboured pants of breath.  

Not shifting his gaze, his eyes briefly scanned your own in search of any ounce of deception, before his fingers dipped down into his pocket and conjured a tiny key, “now,” and he stretched down to undo the chain at your ankle. The click of the lock felt like a gasp of real air was finally filling your depraved lungs, “I take you to my room,” and he manoeuvred you around to slink one arm in behind your knees while the other stayed fast at your spine. As he rose from the bed, he plucked you up with him as well, carrying you in his hold as he exited the bedroom. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[ramp-it-up]

Peach, Part III

Part II | Part IV

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky because it's the right thing to do. And now he is in love. With you. A woman he lied to about a myriad of things. Now he just needs to convince you to forgive him. And spend the rest of your life with him.

Pairing: Art Dealer/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I love these two and there is so much to say. More parts to come.This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and AFTER the events in the Bucky Barnes fic You've Got me Thinking. I'm so done for with Steve and Peach. The next part will be published next week! ☺️

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angsty angst! Steve is called ‘Steve’ and ‘Grant’ at the beginning, because lies. Mutual pining, attempted masturbation, wild thoughts, threats with a knife, talk of a gun, dirty talk, voice kink, praise kink, did I say ANGST? Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

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

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

-------

As soon as Steve and Bucky stepped into the house in Hilton Head, Frumoasă’s family welcomed them warmly. Steve felt something that he hadn’t felt in a long while as he watched Bucky and his girl reunite. It had only been a few days, but the emotion between them was palpable.

Steve was happy for his friend, that after years of playing around he finally found his one. His mind drifted to a certain someone in Georgia as his eyes scanned the room for the family’s reaction to this reunion.

When his eyes lighted on you, Steve did a double take, thinking that he was hallucinating.

There you were, beautiful as ever, staring at him like a deer in the headlights, your rapid breathing making your chest rise and fall under the form fitting dress you were wearing.

Steve’s heartbeat was out of control as his eyes traced your form, down to those sexy high heeled boots, and then back up again to that face, those lips, those eyes! 

You looked as if you had seen a ghost. After a few seconds, recognition filled them as you looked from Bucky and Frumoasa and then back to Steve.

Steve knew the moment you understood what he had done. He saw your eyes flash at him, almost felt your body tense and could only watch your flight into the kitchen. 

Against his normally strong sense of self preservation, he went after you.

—-

The instant your eyes met Grant Stevens' ocean blue gaze, you lost all focus. You flushed and became physically affected by his proximity. You watched in silence as he stepped into the room behind the attractive dark haired man that your cousin flew to embrace and closed the door behind him.

You were confused as to why he was here with this other man and what was going on.

As your family’s chatter increased, you realized that this must be Bucky Barnes, whom you’d heard so much about from your cousin. You were impressed that he came after her; you knew how bull headed she was. 

Almost as much as you were.

Then it hit you.

The man with him was not Grant Stevens, ordinary bartender, this was Steve Rogers, multi millionaire mobster and Bucky Barnes’ best friend. 

Your eyes took in the scene and then met Grant’s (no Steve’s) again and you shook yourself from your daze. The man you knew in Atlanta was the same, but different. 

His hair was different, cut quite a bit shorter, but still floofy on top, and he still had a beard, but it was tamed. He carried himself a little differently as well, as if he could buy and sell this entire house and everyone in it but didn’t want to, an air of confidence and expectation, directed toward you.

These subtle differences hit you right in the pussy, because damn, he looked good, he smelled good, and that big dick energy was enormous.

But then you realized how he’d lied to you and rage, disbelief, and betrayal flooded your body. You tried to regulate after realizing that your jaw was clenched and your hands were balled into fists.

Rather than deck this man in front of your family and draw attention to this fucked up situation, you retreated into the kitchen, hoping that Steve would have the good sense not to follow you. 

You went to the sink and gazed out of the window to the beach, attempting to be soothed by the vision of the tide retreating and returning until you heard the door open and close behind you.

Without turning around, you shook your head to clear it from the haze his rich, woodsy scent cast over you. 

And also to warn Steve Rogers.

“DO NOT come near me.”

—--

Steve’s heart was beating a mile a minute and he was sweating as he pursued you, but he couldn’t help himself. This thing between you and him was undeniable. 

At least to him.

And so he came around the sizable kitchen island to talk to you despite your warning.

His mouth was dry when he attempted to speak, but he had to try.

“Peach… I—“

You turned around, a Japanese steel carving knife in your hand.

Steve felt his eyes widen and he put his hands up and backed away until the counter behind him stopped his retreat. He knew he could easily take the knife from you and calm you down, but now was not the time for force. 

It was time to grovel.

“Peach, please…”

You advanced upon him, tip of the knife pointed at Steve’s throat. Your pulse quickened as you got nearer to him, only because you were going to kill him, you thought. 

Not because he was so damn fine. No.

Not because your nipples were tight and your pussy was pounding as you remembered his hands on you, inside you, and his hard body against you as his mouth invaded yours. 

You were so caught up that you could only stare at him as you threatened his life. 

You searched Steve’s handsome face for the hint of a smirk, which, to his credit, wasn’t there. Steve looked earnest, like a little boy even, so your eyes moved away from his face and down to the impossible broadness of his shoulders in the fine brown suede jacket over brown cashmere sweater, to his tailored brown slacks, skipping over the bulge there down to his big feet in brown suede boots.

The tone on tone was attractive and the hint of the chain of his St. Stephen’s medal, the same one he wore in Atlanta, was about to make you go feral.

This man affected you in the worst ways. 

How could you want to murder him, fuck him, and also just bury yourself in his chest? 

“Who the fuck are you?”

Steve dropped his head and stared down at the knife at his neck when you spoke

He deserved every cut you wanted to give him. 

“I’m so, so sorry, Peach.”

He looked back up at you and you gasped, the knife dropping a little. At the same time, while holding your gaze, Steve slowly moved his hands toward yours, which was trembling slightly now. You nodded a little as he reached for the knife and he took it gently out of your hand.

He moved toward you and you backed up as he reached beside you to put the knife down, rendering it available if you wanted to hurt him again.

You were impressed. 

But you didn’t trust him one bit.

“Back the fuck up, Grant. Or Steven. Or whatever the fuck you are calling yourself today.”

Steve created space and leaned against the opposite counter, looking more comfortable than your angry heart agreed with.

“I deserve your anger, Peach. But I can explain.”

At that, you straightened up and picked up the knife again.

“I’m not angry, Steven. I have no feelings for you whatsoever.”

Steve’s mouth fell open. He wasn’t expecting that. 

“If I ever felt anything for anyone, it may have been Grant Stevens, but he doesn’t exist.”

You examined the knife, but didn’t point it at him this time.

“Since he doesn’t exist, neither do my feelings or any chance I allow you to get close to me ever again.”

Your multicolored eyes stared into Steve’s and he shivered. 

“Now, this is obviously a big deal for my cousin out there, and for your friend. I’m not going to spoil this for her. But you.”

You indicated Steve with the knife.

“You, stay the fuck away from me. Pretend I don’t exist and I,” You smiled a little.

“Well, I don’t have to do that, do I?  Because not only did you lie to me, you ghosted me.”

Steve felt like the most despicable man on earth. 

“So, you’re dead to me, Grant Stevens.”

You moved around the island to go back to the dining room with the knife in your hand.

“There’s another entrance to the dining room through the hallway by the bathrooms. Use it. I do not want to be associated with lying sacks of shit.”

You straightened your spine and Steve couldn’t help but watch your beautiful body leave him in the dust.

It was then that he knew he was in love.

—--

At dinner Steve watched everything unfold with consternation, but also amusement and curiosity. Bucky and his girl were about to crawl under the table and fuck, even though her parents were grilling him, but his friend had it under control.

Steve wanted to know what you thought of all this and when he looked at you, he thought he caught you checking for him a couple of times, but you always seemed to be looking at something else. 

You were clearly still pissed at him. 

Which gave him hope.

Because regardless of what you said about being dead to you, there was still some strong emotions swirling around in that head of yours.

Which meant you were thinking about him. 

He had to get you alone to talk. But he didn’t know how.

When your aunt suggested he and Bucky stay over, he silently thanked the stars above.

Now he was getting somewhere.

—--

When your Aunt Karen opened her home to criminals and liars, you almost drove back to Atlanta. You sat there and stewed as this handsome asshole smirked across the table at you.

You should have used the knife.

This was going to be the longest four days of your life.

When Bucky and Steve left to retrieve their belongings from the hotel, you looked over to see your cousin staring at you. You thought she was too caught up in Bucky to notice anything.

You were wrong. She continued staring at you as she called out to her mother.

“Ma, Peach and I are going for a walk on the beach to work off dinner, we’ll be back soon.”

As soon as you were out of earshot, the interrogation began.

“What the fuck is up, bitch?”

You told her the entire story.

—-

“You gonna tell me what is going on now?”

Steve looked over at Bucky as they drove to the Surf Song Inn to get their luggage. He would be the only one to understand what he was going through.

“Remember when you said I didn’t really “get it” when you were talking about speeding up the timeline?

Bucky nodded, intrigued.

“Well, I do now. And the story starts in Atlanta….”

By the time Steve was done, Bucky’s mouth was hanging open.

“I noticed that she’s a looker; definitely related to my Frumoasa.”

They chuckled and Steve shook his head at his friend.

“Now that I know what’s going on, with the extension of the Atlanta deal, and the foundation outlay… You’ve got it fucking bad.”

Bucky laughed at his friend.

Steve groaned.

“Stop busting my balls, Buck. I need help.”

Bucky shook his head.

“I don’t know man. My girl and I certainly went through something like this, but she knew my real name, for fuck’s sake. And I never left her hanging to run off into the night forever. I want to fucking punch you for that shit.”

Bucky was serious. 

“I know. I’m such an idiot. But I panicked. I think I knew I was in love but I’d fucked up. In the back of my mind I was always going to go back once we got clean and tell her the truth but…”

“Fate won out?”

“Yeah.”

There was silence in the car as the sounds of the ocean surrounded them.

“She threatened to slit my throat when she saw me today. She had the carving knife in her hand.”

Bucky grinned at his friend who was gazing dreamily out of the window.

“I knew I liked her. My kind of girl. She’s perfect for you.”

“Punk. But how do I get her to realize that?”

“Persistence my friend. Persistence. And cunning.”

—--

By the time Steve and Bucky had returned, there was a plan, but almost as soon as he stepped into the house, your cousin grabbed him up. He followed her into the kitchen, afraid of another knife attack.

“Just what the fuck do you think you are doing, Steven Grant Rogers? You trying to run game on my cousin? We don’t play that, I will fuck you up!”

This time it wasn’t a knife, but your cousin’s finger pointed at him

“I love her.”

She froze, mouth open and finger in mid air.

“Well. Damn.”

She straightened up and leaned on the counter as Bucky came in.

“May I join the party?”

His girl glared at him and he put his hands up as he walked up on her and took her in his arms.

“I promise, I didn’t know a thing about it. I’ve been a little distracted lately.

He kissed her and her ire was gone. Steve wished it were that easy for him.

“So you’re in love but you fucked her over, and she wants nothing to do with you. Cool.”

Your cousin wasn’t scowling at him, but she wasn’t smiling either.

“Yeah, I’m fucked. But i’ve got a plan.”

Steve and Bucky looked at each other and grinned. Your cousin looked from one to the other. Then they told her the plan.

“Oh hell. My poor cousin. But you forgot one important thing…”

—--

The rest of the night was spent playing board games, watching football, and outrageous flirting between Bucky and your cousin. 

Oh, and you avoiding Steve Rogers at all costs. 

If he came into a room, you exited, if you heard his voice in another, you scowled. He was ruining your holiday. You were stressed beyond belief. But you had something for that.

You knew that your cousin was planning on meeting Bucky in the basement and being a freak, so that’s when you and your handy dandy little bullet vibrator would meet up.

You needed to relieve the tension Steve being in the house had placed on your pussy. You were afraid you would fold and fuck him.

All you needed was to cum and you could think straight.

When your cousin snuck out of the room, she thought you were asleep, but you were just hiding and waiting for her to leave. Just when you pulled the bullet from under your pillow, your door opened and your light came on. You sat up in bed when you saw it was Steve, prepared to cuss him out.

He quickly shut the door and leaned against it, a vision with his big, bare feet, plaid pajama pants and size smedium henley.

It was still a crime how good this man looked. 

And how much he affected you.

Steve saw you without makeup, that delectable mouth in a sexy O, and those eyes wide and got hard instantly. 

He was so ruined.

You watched Steve watching you and then watched him reach up and rub the back of his neck and damn, did his bicep look good as he unconsciously flexed. 

“I need to explain, Peach.”

“You don’t need to do a gotdamn thing but get the fuck out of my room.”

“Please…”

“Don’t give me that shit. That fake apology begging shit. You’re nothing but a liar, and a manipulator. Trying to fuck me under an alias. Pretending to be something you’re not.”

Steve grew exasperated and damn you if the sight of him potentially angry didn’t turn you on more. Did you actually want him to fight for you? 

You had a problem. A six foot, two inch problem.

“I didn’t fuck you, did I? I realized what I was doing was wrong and I stopped.”

You huffed and cocked your head.

“Yeah. You ran. Which was the easy way out. Instead of staying and apologizing and telling me the fucking truth. I don’t need your explanation now, asshole. You better be glad I don’t scream my ass off! Coming in here like you’re going to make me beg for you to put your little dick inside me and have your way with me in all the holes that you can.”

Steve raised his eyebrow, heart rate increasing. You wanted him.

“That's very oddly specific, Peach. Been thinking about me? Been fantasizing?”

His fervent whisper made you shiver.  

“And I think you’ve ascertained by now that it’s not little.”

He smirked as you glared at him. 

“You’re right, Peach. Now is not the time for explanations. Maybe we just need to finish what we started in Atlanta. Get the tension out so we can talk. Let me fuck you so hard that we both cum. Hard. So we can have a civil conversation.”

God, I need her to cum around my cock, those thighs wrapped around me, Steve thought. It was his only goal at the moment.

Your pussy sat up and took notice as you were silent, adjusting the pillow with the bullet under it so that he wouldn’t know what you were planning to do. He studied you as you sat up straighter in the bed.

You both knew that one fuck wouldn’t end the beef. In fact, you guessed correctly that you wouldn't be able to get enough.

“You want me to beg, Peach? To get on my knees for you and beg to give me just a few hours of your time to show you that I am completely and utterly yours, Y/N/LN.”

You stared at him as he nodded at you and started rubbing himself through his pajama pants like a heathen.

“But what would you let me come in here and do to you that would make you scream your ass off Peach, if I begged to your satisfaction?”

His eyes roamed your body, stopping at your rigid nipples through the thin material. 

Steve was thirsty now.

“Would you let me touch you?”

His baritone voice was destroying your pussy right now. She was practically humming and vibrating on nothing at the moment, and you wondered if you could come from words alone. 

Steve wondered the same thing.

So he tried it.

“Would you let me?” 

Waves of desire rolled off of him and you could feel it from across the room. He was itching to move close and touch you, but you needed to make the first move. 

So what he said to you was, “Would you let me get my dirty criminal hands all over you, Peach?” 

You tensed, not knowing if you wanted to strangle him or climb on his penis. But then you thought both, at the same time, and crossed your arms against your body instead.

“N-no!”

That damn eyebrow shot up and you looked away, not knowing if you had the strength to endure.

“I want to bite into you, Peach.”

You opened your mouth to breathe.

“Not hard. Just enough to see how soft your skin is. Just so you can feel it throughout your body…you are…fuck… you are so fine… I need to consume you.”

You were in the same room with the big bad wolf, and yet you didn’t want to escape.

“I wonder…”

He trailed off, and you turned your head and gained eye contact, curious and wound up tight. Your pussy was pounding now, and you knew he had to smell your scent. He was actually licking his chops. 

“Would you let me slide my tongue inside you and lick you clean?”

He watched his eyes dilate as your eyes shuttered and a sound came out from your throat. It was a whimper of need that you cut short by clearing your throat, but not before Steve’s eyes flicked down to your sleep shorts and your thighs rubbing against each other. He knew you had to be soaking wet. 

He licked his lips and nodded, agreeing with your lust.

“Yes. Want, no need, to rub my cock all over your beautiful body. Feed it to you inch by inch, until you take it down your throat.”

You closed your eyes to shut off the sight of him, but the images of what he was saying assaulted you. You were so close to giving in. 

“Will you, Peach? Let me rub this big dick all over that body?”

You opened your eyes and stared as Steve grabbed himself, holding it out for you. You were incredulous when you saw how thick and how long it was under his sleep pants. You licked your lips, suddenly very thirsty.

“Will you let me feed you this cock inch by fucking inch, till I’m down your throat?” 

Steve assessed you.

“I told you that you’d struggle to take it. But I bet you’d take it like the naughty little good girl you are. You’d gag on it for me.”

You wanted to crawl over to him on your knees and do as he said. But you were not going to fold. You took a deep breath, stood up slowly and walked over to him, his smile growing the nearer you approached.

You stopped just shy of touching him, his cock, his hands, those lips all there for the taking. You looked him dead in the eye.

“My aunt Karen keeps a shotgun by the bed. Get the fuck out of my room before I go get it and shoot your gotdamn balls off.”

The grin that Steve wore as he walked back to his room was blinding. You were the perfect woman for him. He just had to convince you.

He was still grinning when Bucky snuck back in the room from his rendezvous with his girl.

“I’m in.”

—--

The next morning you woke almost refreshed, having used your bullet successfully after Steve left the room. You got off in no time and renewed your strength. You even managed to tease your cousin who did the tiptoe of shame back to your shared bedroom before you fell asleep.

You came downstairs to the sight of your aunt and uncle on the way to coffee with Bucky and your cousin about to throw up.

It was obvious what was about to happen and you felt bad as she ran out to the beach to get some air. Maybe you were taking things out on her. As you watched her head toward the beach, you felt the hair on the back of your head rise.

You turned around to see Steve’s cerulean eyes appraising you. You suddenly felt self conscious about your sleep short set.

“Morning.”

“Hmmph.”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said last night, and you are correct. I’m sorry for continuing to pursuing you. What I did was wrong and there’s no future for us. We need to just cut ties. But there is one thing. The foundation.”

One of the things you’d realized was that the Rebirth Foundation that had bailed you out of debt and enabled you to quit stripping and start your dance school was the creation of Steve and Bucky. Your cousin told you it was a very real endeavor, but that Steve and Bucky did run it. 

“Yes. That’s unfortunate.”

“So. What do you want to do about that?”

Steve leaned back and damn, the power of grey sweats was not lost on you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well. I am the managing director of the foundation. If you keep the money, you’ll have to have contact with me; remember the stipulations?”

You grimaced as you recalled the terms of the endowment. A summit in New York, site visits. Shit. 

You crossed your arms and cocked your hip. Steve kept his eyes on your face. That threw you for a second. You cleared your throat.

“Are you trying to blackmail me, Rogers.”

Steve shook his head. 

“No. I knew you would think that. You are welcome to keep the money. I can just consider it a gift. I’ll pay the money back to the foundation out of my personal funds. Consider it a fine for my crimes.”

You looked down and chewed your lip. Then you looked back up at him, your head held high. 

“I’m not a coward, Mr. Rogers. I can fulfill my end of the bargain, even if you…” 

You stopped short.

“I can fulfill my end of the bargain.”

Steve looked at you for a long while, his blue eyes sad. Your heart clenched.

“Good. Your students deserve it. You should have a message in your inbox about the summit on December 15th. You don’t have to RSVP until next week because of the holiday."

Steve stood up and walked toward the kitchen door. 

“I’m gonna go see if your cousin is okay.”

You gaped as the man you thought you hated went to go care for your family. And if what you presumed was going to happen did happen, he was going to be like family for the rest of your life.

You were screwed.

——

If you enjoyed it, please Reblog!

Read the Bucky fic Worth The Fall that comes immediately after this. Read Peach IV, the next part.

[here4thefanfics]

I love this series

His Inheritance Masterlist

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mafia families. References to arranged marriage. Coercion. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

Part 1: Hidden Gems

Part 2: Rapunzel

Part 3: Homecoming

Part 4: Whispers

Part 5: Sealed with a Kiss

Part 6: What We Need

Part 7: A Charade

Part 8: Reckoning

Part 9: High Stakes

Part 10: Temptress

Part 11: Union of the Snake

Part 12: Something Borrowed

Part 13: Kiss the Bride 

Part 14: Negotiations & Promises

Part 15: The Wedding Present

Part: 16 Allies & Demons

Part 17: I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love

Part 18: Echoes of the Past

Part 19: Love Under Will

Part 20: Promises Kept

Part 21: A History of Violence

Part 22: Doppelganger

Part 23: Who Do You Trust?

Part 24: Revelations

Part 25: Just Breathe

Part 26: Duplicity

[holylulusworld]

Their girl

Summary: Your boss doesn’t even know your name. This doesn’t keep his guests from finding interest in you.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Shy!Reader x Mobster!Steve Rogers

Warnings: shy reader, tension, awkwardness, fluff, polyamory, love-struck mobsters

A/N: The sequel no one expected to get.

Catch up here: The nameless girl

True to their words, Steve and Bucky stood in front of your apartment the next evening.

They prepared everything for your date while you spent the better part of the day looking for a new job.

This couldn’t be real. And you believed they wanted to make fun of you by inviting you for dinner like one of the beautiful girls from the club. 

“Hello doll,” Bucky lazily leaned in your door frame. He offered a bouquet of daisies to you and called you a pretty mouse.

“Sweet mouse,” Steve grinned and offered a single red rose to you, “you look…stunning.” They both looked dashing in their expensive suits, and polished shoes. 

“I-sorry. I’m not ready yet and…” you nervously babbled. Still, in your oversized Peanuts shirt and sweatpants, you looked ridiculous next to them. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

“Why?” Bucky furrowed his brows. He looked a little hurt at your words. “Why’d you think we would not keep our word and come here to court you.”

“I,” you dropped your gaze, afraid you angered the two of them. “Men like you don’t usually pay attention to someone like me. I’m shy, meek, and a grey mouse in contrast to the dancers at the club.”

“Doll,” Bucky pushed the flowers in Steve’s hands so he could cup your face with both hands. “If we say we want to take you out,” he leaned closer to look you deep in the eyes. “We mean what we say. We want to take you out. Not one of the girls at the club nor anyone else.”

You sniffled and murmured an apology. It was strange to you that two men tried to get your attention. Life taught you that most men only like a pretty façade.

Many guys you met didn’t care if a girl was selfish, dumb, or had the worst character as long as they were pretty enough to get their attention. 

“Y/N don’t apologize. I know we can be a bit overwhelming and intense,” Steve smirked when your eyes darted toward him. “Buck, tell her how much we like her.”

“Very much,” Bucky purred your name. He swiped his thumb over your lower lip only to groan deeply when you licked over his thumb and lightly sucked on it. “Fuck, Stevie. We got a dirty little mouse here.”

“Oh?” Steve watched you look at his friend like you were in a trance. “She’s such a cute surprise. Who would've thought we’d find our queen among all those boring girls.”

Bucky pecked your temple, making you sigh at the slightest touch of his lips. “We got lucky,” he said. “She’s one in a million.”

Steve chuckled at his friend’s eagerness. “How about we invite you for dinner at our home, Y/N. You can wear your cute shirt and sweatpants. We can have a sleepover and have dinner at the restaurant tomorrow.”

“We also got a job offer for you, doll,” Bucky whispered against your temple. “We got a free position in our organization.”

“Buck, that was a surprise!” Steve tutted but smirked when your eyes lit up. Losing your job at Clint’s club got you into trouble. Your landlord wants his money on time, not weeks or months later. “What do you say, doll? Do you want to come with us?”

“No.”

“No?” Bucky backpaddled at your answer. He looked you up and down, wondering if he misheard. “Did you say no?”

You took a deep breath and gathered all the courage you could muster and looked Bucky straight in the eyes. 

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful, Mr. Barnes,” you confidentially said, even though, your voice trembled, “but you are still strangers to me. I cannot go with you, to a place I don’t know. I’m shy, not crazy.”

“Aw, she’s even cuter than I thought,” Steve chuckled at your little outburst. “You’re right, Y/N. We will wait outside of your apartment for you to get ready like gentlemen. Please excuse our forwardness.”

“Steve and I will take you out for dinner and drive you back home. We can talk about the job offer on our way to the restaurant. Only if you want to, of course,” Bucky pouted and held out his hand. “Please don’t leave us hanging.”

“I’ll be right back,” you excused yourself and closed the door behind you, exhaling deeply. Your knees shook, but you were also proud of yourself for standing up against Steve and Bucky.

Steve and Bucky looked at each other, smirking for a second before they chuckled. 

“She’s so cute when mad,” Bucky laughed. “God, it makes me wild imagining her squirming underneath me while I take her apart. She will whimper my name and beg me to fill her up and breed her. But not before I ate her sweet cunt.”

Steve laughed. “You’re a horny dog.”

“Says the man running around with a boner since he laid eyes on our sweet mouse,” Bucky bit back. “I hope you know I’ll have her first. She will melt in my arms.”

“I hope you know Y/N is not like the other girls you easily wrapped around your fingers.”

“I know,” the brunette smirked. “That’s what I like about her, Steve. I knew the moment I laid eyes on her that things would be different with Y/N. It’s exciting, isn’t it?”

“Phew, you got it bad for her,” Steve whistled.

“You are no better,” Bucky snickered. “I know you want to make her ours. Do not deny it. You’re in too deep yourself.”

Both men waited patiently for you to join them outside of your apartment. They offered their arm to you, acting like gentlemen while guiding you toward their car.

The ride toward the restaurant was both, exciting and a little scary. You got into a car with two strangers promising to make you their queen.

Steve held the door to the restaurant open for you while Bucky guided you inside.

“You’ll love the restaurant,” Bucky said as he pulled the chair for you. “Did I already tell you that you look beautiful tonight, doll?”

“Thank you,” you stammered. You didn’t know if he meant what he said. Your sky-blue mini-dress was far from elegant. While all the other women at the restaurant looked like they came straight out of a fashion magazine, you felt underdressed. “It’s new…”

“I like that color on you,” Steve cupped your chin with one hand to tilt your head. “It’s cute and sweet.” You gasped feeling his lips press against the corner of your mouth. “Just like you.”

Bucky’s features darkened when you leaned into his friend’s touch.

“Shall we eat, doll?” He pulled a chair for you, making your heart flutter. “Steve was right, Y/N. You look beautiful in your dress. Did you buy it only for us?”

You giggled and dropped your gaze. “No,” you lied. “I bought it some weeks ago.”

“Aw, our doll believes she can lie to us, Buck,” Steve flashed you a stunning smile. “We know that you wanted to look pretty for us, Y/N. It’s not a bad thing you want to impress us. We did the same. Bucky spent two hours in his closet to find the perfect suit only to drive to town and buy a new one.”

“Steve did the same,” Bucky grabbed a chair and moved it closer to your seat. “He just likes to make everyone believe he looks good in everything without effort, including a potato sack.”

Steve grinned and ran one hand down his chest. “I’d rock that potato sack, Barnes. You know that.”

“I bet you would,” you murmured while eyeing Steve. He looked damn good in his suit and knew it. Men like him and Bucky always know how handsome they are. “You’re both very handsome.”

“Baby, you don’t have to stroke Steve’s ego,” Bucky moved his hand to your thigh to tickle your skin. “It’s already over the top. How about you stroke mine.”

“I think yours is over the top too,” you replied and gave him a tiny smirk before clearing your throat. “So…can we talk about the job now? You got me fired last night.”

“Straight to the point. I like it,” Steve grabbed the remaining chair and moved closer to yours too. He sat down only to place his hand on your other thigh. “We need someone to take care of our paperwork for our more legal business.”

“We need someone we can trust. Steve and I are rather bored when doing office work. You on the other hand have a lot of experience,” Bucky toyed with the hem of your dress while telling you more about the position you always dreamed of.

“How do you know about my work experience?”

“Baby doll, we are enchanted by you. This doesn’t mean we let a wolf in sheep’s clothing inside the inner circle of our business.” Steve pressed a soft kiss to your neck, making you sigh. “If you want the job, it’s yours.”

Bucky mirrored his partner. He pressed a soft kiss to your neck, lips nipping at the soft skin. “Oh, and the best is. You can bang your bosses…”

Tags in reblog.

[chloe-skywalker]

Need a Title Name for New Series

So I have 12 chapters done so far (and a bunch more on the way, this story is planned out to go farther) of the "Mob Bucky Barnes x Sons Of Anarchy" AU that I'm writing.

But before I start typing it up I need a Title.

I have some ideas so please vote for the one you think works the best.

I'm kinda leaning towards "Love Beyond Limits" because if the SOA world the women can't be as involved but it the Mob Bucky world they can be so there's no limitations in their relationship.

[cynic-spirit]

Jill and George

While walking near the marshland one day, Y/N stumbled upon a small, shivering puppy huddled in the grass. The tiny creature looked up at her with big, hopeful eyes, and Y/N's heart melted instantly.

She carefully picked up the puppy, cradling it in her arms. “Steve, look what I found!” she called out as she made her way back to the mansion.

Steve, intrigued by the commotion, came over to see what Y/N had discovered. His eyes softened as he saw the tiny, helpless puppy nestled in her arms.

“Aw, what a little sweetheart,” Steve said, reaching out to gently pet the puppy. “You want to keep him?”

Y/N nodded eagerly. “Yes, I’d love to. I think he needs a home and some love.”

Steve chuckled, a playful smile crossing his face. “Well, it would be a nice change to have a non-predatory animal around here. Gustave’s great and all, but I’m sure a little puppy will bring a different kind of joy to the house.”

Y/N grinned, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “Exactly. I think it’ll be good for all of us to have a different kind of companion.”

Steve, seeing how happy the puppy made Y/N, nodded in agreement. “Alright, we’ll keep him. But let’s make sure he’s properly taken care of. A little puppy can bring a lot of joy and, hopefully, a bit of balance to our otherwise wild household.”

The small puppy, oblivious to the past excitement, wagged its tail and licked Y/N’s face, adding a new, warm presence to their lives. Steve watched with a smile, content that Y/N’s kindness and love for animals had once again made their home a more vibrant and welcoming place.

As the months went by, the small puppy Y/N had found grew at an astonishing rate. What was once a tiny, adorable bundle of fur was quickly becoming a large, imposing presence in the mansion. Steve and Y/N noticed the transformation with increasing surprise, especially as the puppy’s size continued to outpace normal expectations.

One day, Steve, eyeing the now sizable canine with a mixture of curiosity and concern, finally asked, “Y/N, where exactly did you find this ‘puppy’? I mean, he’s growing so fast, it’s almost like he’s on steroids.”

Y/N, casually patting the now large, muscular animal, replied with a nonchalant shrug, “Oh, just near the marshland.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Near the marshland? You mean the same marshland where Gustave hangs out?”

Y/N nodded. “Yep, that’s the place.”

Steve’s eyes widened as the realization sank in. “Wait a minute. You don’t mean to tell me that this isn’t a regular dog puppy, do you?”

Y/N smiled, an amused glint in her eye. “Well, it’s not exactly a dog. Turns out, it’s a grey wolf puppy.”

Steve’s jaw dropped slightly. “A grey wolf? You mean to say we’ve been raising a wolf instead of a dog?”

Y/N nodded, still looking unfazed. “Yep. I guess I should have mentioned it earlier. But he’s been so sweet and well-behaved, I didn’t think it mattered.”

Steve shook his head, a mix of awe and exasperation on his face. “I can’t believe this. First, we have a crocodile as a pet, and now a wolf. You really do have a knack for picking the most unusual animals.”

Y/N laughed softly. “Well, he’s been a great companion. And don’t worry, he’s been nothing but gentle and loving.”

Steve, taking in the sight of the now enormous grey wolf, let out a chuckle. “I guess we’ve got a full menagerie going on here. But as long as he’s good with you and the house, I suppose we can make room for one more.”

The grey wolf, now large and majestic, approached Steve and nuzzled against him, clearly comfortable in his presence. Steve’s initial surprise gave way to admiration as he realized the bond Y/N had with her new companion.

“Alright then,” Steve said with a grin. “Welcome to the pack, I suppose. Just remember, you’re going to have to get used to sharing space with Gustave.”

Steve gathered his friends—Bucky, Sam, and Natasha—at the mansion, a look of bemused disbelief on his face. They were all sitting in the living room, still trying to process the latest surprise.

“So, you know that ‘puppy’ Y/N found near the marshland?” Steve began, shaking his head slightly as he spoke. “Well, it turns out it’s not a regular dog puppy.”

The trio looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism.

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked. “Isn’t it just a big dog?”

Steve’s expression was a mix of incredulity and amusement. “Nope. It’s a grey wolf pup.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “A grey wolf? Are you serious?”

Steve nodded. “Yep. Apparently, I’ve been raising a wolf instead of a dog. Y/N didn’t think it was a big deal, but I’m still wrapping my head around it.”

Natasha leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “So, all this time, we’ve had a wolf in the mansion?”

Steve nodded again. “Exactly. And it’s grown into quite the large, impressive animal. I guess Y/N’s got a real talent for finding and handling these extraordinary creatures.”

Bucky let out a low whistle. “Well, that explains a lot. No wonder he’s been growing so fast. And here I was thinking we had a particularly large dog.”

Sam shook his head, still in disbelief. “So, we have a crocodile and a wolf as pets now? That’s something you don’t see every day.”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, I know. I guess we’ve got a bit of a menagerie going on. But as long as they’re good with Y/N and the house, I suppose we can handle it.”

Natasha smiled, impressed. “Well, it sounds like Y/N’s got a way with animals. I’m sure the wolf is just as well-behaved as Gustave.”

Steve grinned. “You know, I’m starting to think there’s no limit to what she can do. Just when you think you’ve seen it all, she surprises you again.”

Steve sighed deeply, shaking his head as he contemplated the situation. “I really have to put a stop to her bringing animals from the marshland.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Why? I thought you were okay with her having these unique pets.”

Steve’s expression grew serious. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate what she’s done. I do. It’s just… well, it’s getting a bit out of hand. First, we had Gustave, and now a full-grown grey wolf. Who knows what might come next if she keeps finding animals in the marshland?”

Sam nodded in understanding. “I get it. It’s one thing to have a couple of extraordinary pets, but you don’t want the situation to get out of control.”

Steve continued, “Exactly. I mean, I love how much she cares for these animals, and I wouldn’t change that for the world. But I think we need to set some boundaries. I don’t want to risk having more predators or unexpected creatures in the house.”

Natasha, always practical, offered a suggestion. “Maybe you can gently talk to her about it. Explain your concerns and see if she’s willing to focus on less dangerous animals.”

Steve sighed with a mix of resignation and determination. “Yeah, I think that’s the best approach. I don’t want to upset her, but I also want to ensure that we’re not putting ourselves or the animals in any danger.”

As the friends nodded in agreement, Steve felt a bit more at ease with his plan. He knew it was important to balance Y/N’s love for animals with practical considerations, ensuring that their home remained safe and manageable.

Steve sat down with Y/N, his tone serious but gentle. “Y/N, we need to talk about something important. I’ve been thinking about the animals you’ve been bringing from the marshland, and I’ve decided that we need to stop that.”

Y/N looked surprised and a bit concerned. “But Steve, they can’t fend for themselves out there. They need help.”

Steve nodded, understanding her concern but trying to make his point clear. “I know they do, and I appreciate that you want to help them. But we’ve already got Gustave and George, and I’m worried about what might come next. It’s getting a bit out of hand.”

Y/N’s expression softened, but she remained firm. “I just want to make sure they’re safe. The marshland can be dangerous for them.”

Steve sighed. “I get that. It’s just that we need to find a balance. We can’t keep bringing in new animals without considering the impact. It’s not just about the animals—it’s about making sure our home remains a safe and manageable environment.”

Y/N looked down, then met Steve’s gaze with a mix of frustration and understanding. “I see what you’re saying. I just wish there was another way to help them.”

Steve reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “I know, and I’m grateful for how compassionate you are. Maybe we can look into ways to support animal shelters or organizations that can help these creatures in need.”

Y/N considered his words and nodded slowly. “That sounds like a good idea. I want to help them, but I understand we need to be practical.”

Steve smiled, relieved. “Thank you for understanding. We’ll figure out a way to support them without adding more to our already full household.”

It was supposed to be a typical afternoon at Steve’s mansion, but as he stepped out onto the grounds, he was met with a sight that was anything but ordinary. In the middle of the sprawling yard, Y/N was playing catch with George—the enormous grey wolf she had found near the marshland. Fully grown now, George was an impressive and intimidating creature, standing nearly six feet tall when he reared up on his hind legs, his powerful frame covered in thick, silvery fur.

Yet, despite his formidable appearance, George was behaving like a gentle, oversized puppy. He leapt through the air with surprising agility, catching the ball Y/N tossed to him before bounding back with a joyful wag of his tail. The scene was so surreal that everyone around the estate had come to a complete standstill. The gardeners had paused their work, the security guards were frozen in place, and even the chef, who had stepped outside for a moment, was staring in disbelief.

On the porch, Steve’s friends—Bucky, Sam, and Natasha—were equally stunned. They watched the spectacle unfold with a mixture of shock and amusement. Natasha leaned casually against the railing, a smirk tugging at her lips, while Bucky and Sam exchanged wide-eyed glances, trying to process what they were seeing.

Sam was the first to speak, his tone dripping with incredulity. “Steve, man, you’ve got to be kidding me. At this point, you might as well go all in. Why not get a jaguar next? Seems like the more predatory the animal, the tamer it becomes around Y/N.”

Bucky nodded, barely containing his laughter. “Yeah, seriously, first a crocodile, now a wolf that stands six feet tall on its hind legs? What’s next, a grizzly bear? A lion?”

Natasha chuckled, adding with a teasing glint in her eye, “She’s got this magical ability to turn even the fiercest creatures into oversized kittens. Just like she tamed the most dangerous predator of all—Mobster Steve Rogers.”

Steve rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. “You all think you’re so funny, don’t you?” He looked over at Y/N, who was now crouching down to pet George, the massive wolf licking her face affectionately, his tail wagging like a happy dog. “But you might be right. I never expected to have a wolf that could stand eye-to-eye with me as part of the family.”

Bucky grinned, nudging Steve in the ribs. “Come on, admit it, Steve. It’s impressive. She’s got a way of making even the most dangerous animals gentle as lambs. Just like she did with you.”

Sam burst out laughing, clapping Steve on the back. “Yeah, if Y/N can tame a mobster like you, it’s no wonder the animals fall in line.”

Steve shook his head in disbelief as he watched George trot back to Y/N, dropping the ball at her feet, his eyes full of adoration. “I guess you’re right. She’s got this way of making everything and everyone around her just… settle down.”

Natasha’s smirk widened. “Who knew the way to a mobster’s heart was through a pack of wild animals?”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “I never imagined this would be my life—married to a woman who plays catch with a wolf that’s nearly as tall as I am.”

Bucky snickered. “Well, one thing’s for sure, Steve. With Y/N around, you’ll never have to worry about anything, not with your own personal army of tamed predators.”

Steve nodded, still amazed at the sight before him. “Yeah, but I think we’ll hold off on any more additions to the menagerie. I’ve got my hands full with these two.”

As Y/N tossed the ball again, George bounded off, his massive frame moving with the grace of a much smaller animal. Steve felt a surge of pride as he watched her, fearless and full of joy. Even if their home was beginning to look like a wildlife reserve, it was a small price to pay for the love and happiness she brought into his life. And as much as he pretended to be exasperated by the situation, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Still, as he watched George return the ball to Y/N, who was laughing and giving the giant wolf a big hug, Steve couldn’t help but wonder what she might bring home next. Whatever it was, he had no doubt it would be just as tamed—and just as loved—as every other creature in their extraordinary household.

Steve was sitting in his office, flipping through some paperwork, when Y/N’s cousin Tim walked in. Tim had recently started working with Steve, helping out with some of the more legitimate aspects of the business. He was a good guy—loyal, hardworking, and, most importantly, he genuinely cared about Y/N.

"Hey, Tim," Steve greeted him, leaning back in his chair. "How’s everything going?"

"Not bad, not bad," Tim replied, taking a seat across from Steve. "I heard about George and Gustave. That’s some serious wildlife you’ve got over there."

Steve chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, you could say that. Y/N’s got a knack for taming wild animals, apparently. I mean, who else would turn a marshland into a home for a crocodile and a wolf?"

Tim smiled, but there was a knowing look in his eyes. "You know, that’s not the first time she’s done something like this."

Steve raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What do you mean?"

Tim leaned forward slightly, as if he was about to share a secret. "When Y/N was about six years old, she brought home this stray black cat. Or at least, we all thought it was a cat at the time. She even named it Jill. It was small, cute, and Y/N was completely smitten with it. She took care of that animal like it was her own little baby."

Steve nodded, picturing a young Y/N with a tiny black cat in her arms. "Sounds like her. Always taking care of something."

"Exactly," Tim continued. "But here’s the thing. After about a year, Jill wasn’t so little anymore. She’d grown bigger, much bigger, and we started to notice she wasn’t behaving like a regular house cat. Jill was more… wild."

Steve narrowed his eyes, leaning in. "What was it?"

Tim chuckled, shaking his head as he recalled the memory. "Turns out, Jill wasn’t a cat at all. She was a black panther."

Steve blinked, stunned. "A black panther? Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," Tim confirmed. "It was the craziest thing. Y/N had been taking care of a black panther for a year without anyone realizing it. By the time we figured it out, Jill was massive. We had to call in wildlife experts to safely relocate her to a reserve."

Steve let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "A black panther… of course she did."

Tim laughed. "Yeah, that’s Y/N for you. She’s always had a connection with animals, even the ones that should probably be left in the wild. But that panther never harmed her, not once. It was like it knew she was the one taking care of it, so it was completely gentle around her."

Steve couldn’t help but smile, a mixture of admiration and exasperation washing over him. "That sounds exactly like Y/N. No wonder she’s so comfortable with Gustave and George. This isn’t her first rodeo with wild animals."

"Exactly," Tim agreed. "So, when I heard about the crocodile and the wolf, I wasn’t all that surprised. She’s got this way about her, you know? Like she can see the good in even the most dangerous creatures."

Steve nodded, his thoughts drifting back to Y/N. "Yeah, she really does. But I think I’m going to have to set some ground rules about bringing home animals from the marshland. I don’t know if I’m ready for another surprise like that."

Tim chuckled, standing up to leave. "Good luck with that. But if anyone can handle it, it’s you."

Steve smiled, standing as well. "Thanks, Tim. And thanks for the heads up about Jill. I’m sure that’s going to be an interesting story to share with Y/N."

Later that evening, Steve found himself sitting outside on the patio with Bucky, Sam, and Natasha. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the grounds of the mansion. George, the enormous grey wolf, was lounging nearby, his massive frame making even the spacious yard seem small.

As they all sipped on their drinks, Sam couldn't help but glance at the wolf every now and then, still not entirely comfortable with the idea of such a wild animal being so close. Bucky, on the other hand, seemed almost amused by the whole situation, while Natasha remained her usual composed self, though her eyes were sharp, always assessing.

"So," Steve began, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, "you guys won’t believe what I found out today."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What is it, Steve?"

Steve leaned back in his chair, the smirk growing into a full grin. "Turns out, this whole thing with Y/N and wild animals isn’t new. When she was about six, she brought home what she thought was a stray black cat."

Bucky snorted. "Let me guess, it wasn’t a cat."

"Not even close," Steve replied, shaking his head. "She named it Jill, took care of it for a whole year. It wasn’t until Jill started getting a little too big and a little too wild that her family realized they weren’t dealing with a regular house cat."

Sam’s eyes widened, his drink halfway to his mouth. "What was it?"

Steve took a sip of his own drink before dropping the bomb. "A black panther."

Natasha, usually unflappable, actually blinked in surprise. "A black panther? You’re kidding."

"Nope," Steve said, chuckling. "A full-grown black panther, living in their house like it was the family pet. They had to call in wildlife experts to get her relocated to a reserve."

Bucky laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "That sounds exactly like something Y/N would do. She’s got a way with animals, that’s for sure."

Sam leaned back in his chair, looking at George, who was now rolling onto his back like an oversized dog. "Man, you’ve got a wife who tames wild animals. What’s next, a jaguar?"

Natasha smirked. "Or maybe a lion? The more predatory the animal, the tamer it becomes around her. Just like a certain mobster we know."

Steve rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but smile. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But you’re not wrong. If she can handle a black panther at six, I guess a crocodile and a wolf aren’t all that surprising."

Sam shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around the story. "A black panther, though? That’s insane. And here I thought George was the wildest pet she’d ever had."

Bucky grinned. "Maybe we should keep an eye on the marshland. Who knows what she’ll find next? Maybe a bear or a tiger?"

"Don’t even joke about that," Steve said, though there was a hint of genuine concern in his voice. "I’m trying to set some ground rules about bringing home animals, but she’s got that look in her eyes every time she finds something."

Natasha laughed softly. "Good luck with that. But honestly, Steve, it’s kind of amazing. She sees the good in everything, even in the wildest of creatures."

"Yeah," Steve agreed, his voice softening. "That’s one of the things I love about her. But I’m still going to have to draw the line somewhere. I don’t think I’m ready to deal with another panther situation."

Bucky clapped Steve on the shoulder. "If anyone can figure it out, it’s you, Steve. Just make sure we’re around to see it when she brings home her next wild pet."

They all laughed, the tension easing as they settled into the evening. But as Steve glanced over at George, now snoozing peacefully, he couldn’t help but wonder what other surprises Y/N might have in store for him. Whatever it was, he knew he’d be ready—after all, if she could tame a panther, a wolf, and a crocodile, then maybe, just maybe, there wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle together.

As Y/N left the room, Steve watched her with a fond smile before turning back to Bucky, Sam, and Natasha. Shaking his head in mock exasperation, he let out a sigh.

“Whatever happened to getting a goldfish or a Chihuahua?” he asked, his tone full of playful frustration.

The room burst into laughter. Bucky nearly doubled over, clutching his sides. “A goldfish? Can you even imagine? Y/N with something that simple?”

Sam leaned back, laughing so hard he had to catch his breath. “Steve, you should’ve known better. She’s not exactly the type to settle for a pet that doesn’t have a set of fangs or claws. She’s got a history—panthers, crocodiles, wolves. She skipped over the whole ‘normal pet’ thing entirely!”

Natasha smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Goldfish and Chihuahuas are for amateurs. Y/N’s practically running her own wildlife sanctuary over here.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head again. “You’re telling me. And the next animal she brings home—from anywhere, not just the marshland—I’m getting it tested to make sure we know what it is.”

That set off another round of laughter. Bucky wiped a tear from his eye. “Good call, Steve. With Y/N, you never know what kind of ‘puppy’ you might end up with.”

Sam nodded, still grinning. “Yeah, you don’t want to wake up one day and find out you’ve got a tiger lounging in the living room.”

Steve laughed along with them, knowing full well that with Y/N, life would always be full of surprises—sometimes furry, sometimes scaly, but always interesting. And despite the wild nature of her choice in pets, he wouldn’t change a thing about her.

[marvellous1917]

Icarus Falling Far.

(Part 3)

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

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

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

Word count: 3.6k ish

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

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

Part 2 ⬇️:

———————

Bold is readers thoughts

Italics is Bucky's thoughts

This starts in Bucky’s POV.

———————

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today was a stressful fucking day.

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

I hate that fuckin smile.

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

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

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

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

“Alright.”

“Stop pulling your hair jackass.” He adds.

I hate it when you do that.

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

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

“Anybody looking for him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like a USB?” Bucky interrupted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…of?”

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

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

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

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

Fuck. Shit.

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

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

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

The one I’m obsessed with.

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

“Shit.” He says under his breath.

“What?” Bucky’s voice was louder now.

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

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

No. No no fuck. Not her.

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

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

“…this was taken this morning.”

“..yeah.”

fuck.

———————

Fuck Bucky Barnes.

The bastard hadn’t contacted you since the shop.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God-fucking-dammit Frank.

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

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

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

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

Shit, how does he know?

“-what?”

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

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

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

Ahh fuck.

“Ahh fuck,” you say out loud.

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

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

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

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

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

“The fuck does that mean?” Frank answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that him?” Curtis asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh my god.

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

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

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

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

Why does he have to be so sweet.

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

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

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

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

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

-(Bucky’s P.O.V)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Frank please-”

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

“Billy-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then how the fuck do they know.

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

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

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

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

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

It was them. But that means…

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

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

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

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

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

————

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

Lemme know what u think 😘

Tagged :

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

[steviebbboi]

Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge Masterlist

Masterlist for my 200 followers Writing Challenge

smut = 🌶️, 🥹 = fluff; 🩹 = angst

Writing Submissions 💥

Bucky Barnes

🌶️🥹 Easy Ride (Biker!Bucky x F!Reader) written by the lovely @jobean12-blog

🌶️ Camaraderie (raunchy!Bucky x curvy!female reader) written by the lovely @buckets-and-trees

🥹 Mobsters obsession (Mob!Bucky Barnes x Barista!Mom!Reader) written by the lovely @buck-star

Steve Rogers

🩹🥹 Traitor (Ex-)Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Singer!Fem!Reader) written by the lovely @buck-star

🌶️ 🥹 Thirst for Life (As It Is) (Steve Rogers x reader) written by the lovely @anika-ann

🌶️ -ish, 🥹 Subdue (Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!f!Reader) written by the lovely @mercurial-chuckles

Lloyd Hansen

🌶️🩹-ish Demon's Devotion (IncubusDemon!Lloyd x F!Hunter!Reader) written by me :)

🌶️ 🥹 Thin Walls (BBF!Lloyd Hansen x f!Reader) written by the lovely @gremlin-girly

Ari Levinson

🌶️ What do you Desire (Ari Levinson x F!Reader) written by the lovely @saiyanprincessswanie

🌶️ Ionian Sun (siren!Ari Levinson x f!reader) written by the lovely @gremlin-girly

Jake Jensen

🌶️ 🥹 Can't Fight The Moonlight (Werewolf! Jake Jensen x Reader) written by the lovely @bigtreefest

🌶️ 🥹 Bubbles (Jake Jensen x f!siren!reader) written by the lovely @gremlin-girly

Curtis Everett

🌶️ 🥹 I Don’t Mind Falling For You (Curtis Everett x female!reader) written by the lovely @soelstress

Ransom Drysdale

🌶️ 🥹 Ambivalent Research (Ransom Drysdale x female!reader) written by the lovely @soelstress

+1 BB's

🩹🥹🌶️ Grumpy Love (Grumpy/Soft Alpha Steve Rogers/Grumpy/Soft Ari Levinson(Rogers)/Omega Female Reader (Past Stucky)) written by the lovely @autumnrose40 🩹🥹A Love Least Expected (BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Fem!Reader, past Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Boyfriend!Steve Rogers) written by the lovely @buck-star (formerly @buckys-wintersoldier) 🥹 Wibbly-Wobbly Wednesday Thought (Steve x Reader x Bucky | Stucky x Reader) written by the lovely @mercurial-chuckles

Writing Requests (Answered) 💙

🌶️ The Witcher's Conquest (Geralt of Rivia x F!Sorceress!Reader) written by me :)

🩹🥹🌶️ One Step Forward (FakeProfessor!Napoleon Solo x Student!F!Reader written by me :)

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Drabbles/One shots for the month of September! (so far!)

Little Birdie #11 Car Wash Charity (parent!mafia lord!bucky & orphan! Wanda Maximoff)

Little Birdie Drabble # 12 Party Scares (parent!mafia lord!bucky & orphan! Wanda Maximoff)

Before He Cheats (Destiel One Shot)

Naked at the Laundromat (Destiel One Shot)

Dead on Arrival C.10 (mobster bucky x songstress reader)

Bundle of Baby Frank Castle x Reader

Wed Me? Emmett Cullen x Reader

Pretty Lies Steve Rogers x Reader

Moonlight Confessions Logan x Reader

Always Be Yours Steve rogers x Reader

Never Be Yours Again Frank Castle x Reader

A Haunting C.1 Bucky x reader

Promised Kisses Logan x Reader

Trusted Promises Peter Quill x Reader

Squirrely Nightmares Peter Quill x Reader

One or Another Dean Winchester x Reader

CheaterCheaterBestFriendEater Steve Rogers x Reader

Love You Peter Quill x Reader

Home Bucky x Reader

Gotta Go My Own Way Logan Howlett x Reader

Smoke & Regret Logan Howlett x Reader

A Taste of Royalty Prince! Stephen Strange x Reader

Every Heart Beat Pietro Maximoff x Rreader

Just a Taste Tony Stark x Reader

Escape TWS!bucky x reader

A Vampire Friend Emmett Cullen x Reader

The Price of Loyalty  Curtis Everett x Reader

All In His Arms Emmett Cullen x Reader

Drinkin' Problem Steve Rogers X Reader

[holylulusworld]

Roll the dice (Prologue)

Summary: You’re in trouble, and it’s all your fault.

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warnings: mafia au, angst, mentions of criminal activities, mentions of sickness, mentions of stealing, scared reader, bruises

You’re in trouble, and it’s all your fault.

Stealing from your boss wasn’t the smartest move. Even though you had no other choice.

If you hadn’t taken the money from him, your grandmother would’ve died.

She doesn’t have insurance and needed a life-saving surgery. You worked your ass off, juggling three jobs a day, only to not make ends meet.

When the doctor told you they were going to release your grandmother from the hospital to die, you had to do something—anything.

For only a moment, you lost your mind and did something you’d never have done if not for your grandmother. The woman raising you.

“Ah, there she is,” your boss chuckles when his right-hand man, the one everyone calls executioner, drags you inside his office. The man leans back in his expensive chair, legs spread wide as he runs his hands up and down his thighs. “Where did you hide, little runaway?”

You whimper, feeling another bruise form on your arm, joining the ones the executioner painted your body with. His hands are still covered in the blood of the poor motel owner who dared to try to stop him.

“Got her, Steve,” the man chasing you like feral dogs says as he pushes you toward your boss. Steven Grant Rogers. Stone-cold businessman in public, and merciless mafia boss in the shadows. “Tell me if you want me to get rid of the remnants.”

Sniffling, you surrender to faith. They don’t know about the reasons for your betrayal, and your grandmother is safe. An old friend agreed to take her in and care for her. She was always more than a good friend to your granny, and you know, she’ll keep her word.

Rogers rises from his seat to tower over you. He lifts your chin with his index finger to force you to look into your executioner’s eyes. “So, tell me, was it worth it stealing from me? Did you buy shiny things, a car maybe?”

“She didn’t have anything of value with her. Her car is a wreck, and she got kicked out of her apartment. The rat was hiding at the shadiest motel you can imagine.”

“Buck,” your boss nods. “Thank you for the input. Please bring me the box over there.” Steve says, still holding your gaze. He searches your face, enjoying the fear in your eyes and how your lips tremble.

“Got it,” Bucky gets a little black box. Instead of handing it to your boss, he places it in front of you. “I hope you enjoy the last moments of your life, little rat.” He chuckles before leaving the room.

“You know, I’m a player.” Steve flashes you a smile, but it doesn’t reach his cold blue eyes. “Rats like you have two options. You can accept your fate, and I’ll kill you fast, or you can open the box and take whatever punishment you’ll find inside.”

“What?” You furrow your brows. Steve Rogers will kill you either way. There is not a chance he’ll show mercy and let you go.

“I like to play,” he repeats. “I only play with people who didn’t steal from me for themselves or selfish reasons,” Steve smirks when you whimper again. “I know about your grandmother and where I can find her.”

You suck in a breath. “Please, I’ll do anything. Torture me, kill me. I don’t care.” You cry. “She didn’t know. I swear, Granny believes I got a promotion. Please…” You beg and plead.

“Well then, choose the box, and I’ll shelter your grandmother’s life,” he snarls. “If not, she’ll die with you tonight.”

Steve hides that he doesn’t kill grannies. He has standards and rules.

With trembling fingers, you open the box. All that you find is a red dice. It doesn’t look different from the ones you handled at the casino, though.

“Oh, the dice?” He smirks darkly and crouches down to cup your face. “You got lucky, doll. If you get a six, you are free to go.”

“What about the other numbers?” You whisper, afraid to speak louder. “Sir?”

“Every other number means fun for me,” he laughs as you make a face. “Go ahead, doll. Roll the dice.”

You grab the dice and roll it without thinking twice. Holding your breath, you watch it land on…

If you want to read more, we see us in 2025…

Read more here: Part 1

Tags in reblog.

[cynic-spirit]

Gustave

Steve Rogers had seen a lot of things in his life. He had faced down dangerous enemies, handled precarious situations, and navigated the murky waters of the criminal underworld with ease. But nothing could have prepared him for what he found one evening while walking around the grounds of his estate.

It had been a long day, and Steve was taking a rare moment to relax, his mind clearing as he walked the perimeter of his property. The marshland behind his mansion had always been quiet, a peaceful spot that he knew Y/N sometimes liked to visit when she needed a break. She had a way with nature, always finding beauty in the wild places that others might overlook.

As he approached the edge of the marsh, Steve heard something unusual—a rustling sound, followed by a low, guttural noise that made him stop in his tracks. He narrowed his eyes, his instincts kicking in as he moved closer, peering through the reeds.

What he saw next made him freeze, his breath catching in his throat. There, in the shallows of the marsh, was a large crocodile. Its scales glistened in the fading light, and it was easily twice the size of anything he’d expect to find in this part of the country. But what shocked him even more was the sight of Y/N standing just a few feet away from it, calmly tossing what looked like leftover food into its open jaws.

“Y/N!” Steve called out, a mix of shock and concern in his voice as he stepped forward.

Y/N turned to face him, a look of surprise on her face. But she didn’t seem scared or even particularly concerned—just slightly caught off guard that he had found her there.

“Steve, you’re home early,” she said, her tone casual as she wiped her hands on a towel she had brought with her. “I was just feeding Gustave.”

Steve blinked, his mind trying to catch up with what she had just said. “Gustave?” he repeated, his eyes shifting between her and the crocodile, which was now contentedly chomping on the food she had given it.

Y/N nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “That’s his name. He’s been living in the marsh for a while now. I started feeding him when he was just a little thing, and now, well…he’s grown a bit.”

Steve stared at her, his mind reeling. “A bit? Y/N, that thing’s the size of a small car!”

Y/N chuckled softly, clearly amused by his reaction. “I know he’s big, but he’s harmless. To me, at least. He’s just hungry, and I couldn’t leave him to fend for himself. Besides, he’s kind of sweet once you get to know him.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, trying to process what he was seeing. Of all the things he had expected to find today, discovering that his wife had been secretly raising a crocodile was definitely not one of them. “Y/N, you can’t just…keep a crocodile as a pet. What if he hurts you? Or someone else?”

She stepped closer to him, her expression softening as she placed a hand on his arm. “Steve, I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve been careful. He’s used to me now, and I’ve made sure to keep him away from anyone else. He won’t hurt anyone, I promise.”

Steve sighed, looking down at her with a mixture of exasperation and affection. He should have been angry, maybe even furious, that she had taken such a risk. But the truth was, Y/N had always had a way of surprising him, of doing the unexpected in a way that made him love her even more. And as he looked into her eyes, he saw the same determination and kindness that had drawn him to her in the first place.

“Alright,” he said finally, his voice softening. “But we’re going to have to figure out what to do with him. He’s too big to stay here, and I don’t want you taking any more risks.”

Y/N nodded, relief washing over her as she wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you, Steve. I promise, we’ll find a safe place for him.”

Steve hugged her back, still half in disbelief at the situation but unable to stay mad at her. “You really do keep me on my toes, you know that?”

She grinned, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “That’s what you love about me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, among other things.”

As they stood there together, the crocodile now lazily basking in the last rays of the sun, Steve couldn’t help but smile. Life with Y/N was never predictable, but that was part of the adventure. And no matter how wild things got, he knew he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Bucky and Sam were sitting near the edge of the marshland behind Steve’s mansion, enjoying a rare moment of peace and catching up. The tranquility of the scene was abruptly interrupted when Bucky noticed something peculiar in the distance.

“Hey, Sam,” Bucky said, nudging him and pointing toward the marsh. “You see that?”

Sam squinted, trying to make sense of what Bucky was indicating. His eyes widened as he saw Y/N walking along the water’s edge, with something massive following closely behind her.

“No way…” Sam said, leaning forward for a clearer view. “Is that…?”

“A crocodile,” Bucky finished, his voice filled with disbelief. “A gigantic crocodile. And it’s following Y/N like a pet.”

Both of them stared in shock as Y/N calmly walked, occasionally tossing food to the crocodile, which followed her with a surprising degree of docility. It was clear that the reptile was far from being a wild threat—it seemed almost affectionate.

“This can’t be real,” Sam said, his voice incredulous. “Is she really just walking around with a crocodile like it’s a normal thing?”

Before Bucky could respond, Steve’s voice came from behind them.

“Apparently, she has a pet crocodile, and his name is Gustave,” Steve said, his tone almost casual as he joined them.

Bucky and Sam both turned to Steve, their mouths agape.

“What?!” they exclaimed in unison.

Steve shrugged nonchalantly, his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I found out yesterday. She’s been feeding him for months, and now he’s kind of grown on her.”

Bucky’s eyes widened even further. “You’re telling us that Y/N has been secretly raising a crocodile and you’re just…okay with it?”

Steve chuckled, looking amused. “Well, she’s careful with him. And besides, he’s harmless to her.”

Sam shook his head, still trying to grasp the situation. “Man, I’ve seen some crazy stuff, but this…this takes the cake. You’ve got a giant crocodile just chilling behind your mansion?”

Steve nodded, his expression a mix of affection and exasperation. “Yep. She can tame just about anything and anyone. It’s part of what makes her so incredible.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, glancing back at Gustave, who was now lounging contentedly by Y/N’s side. “Harmless to her, maybe. But what about everyone else?”

Steve sighed, agreeing with the concern. “We’re working on that. I’m trying to find a safe place for him where he won’t be a danger to anyone but can still live comfortably. Until then, she’s keeping him under control.”

Sam chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “So, what’s next? Is she going to start training wild animals to perform tricks or something?”

Steve smiled, shaking his head with a laugh. “If anyone could pull that off, it’d be her. She has a way of making the impossible look easy.”

Bucky and Sam exchanged astonished glances, still trying to process the revelation. Finally, Bucky grinned, leaning back on his hands. “Well, I guess if anyone can handle a pet crocodile, it’s Y/N.”

Sam nodded, still laughing in disbelief. “Yeah, I just hope she doesn’t decide to bring Gustave to family dinners.”

Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress his smile. “Don’t give her any ideas.”

As they continued to watch Y/N and Gustave from a distance, the initial shock began to fade, replaced by a sense of amused acceptance. Life with Y/N was always full of surprises, but if there was one thing they all knew, it was that she had a remarkable ability to tame just about anything—and anyone. And for Steve, that was just another reason to admire her.

Y/N had been busy in town, picking up a few things, and one of her stops was at a pet store. She returned to the mansion with a small, elegant collar in hand, its leather sleek and adorned with a simple yet charming tag that read "Gustave."

Steve was in his study when she entered, holding up the collar with a proud smile. “Look what I got for Gustave!” she said, clearly excited.

Steve looked up from his papers, his eyebrows knitting together as he took in the sight. “A collar?” he repeated, his voice a mix of confusion and disbelief. “You’re really going to put a collar on a crocodile?”

Y/N nodded, her enthusiasm unabated. “Yes! I thought it would be nice. Plus, it’ll help me keep track of him, especially since he’s grown so much.”

Steve’s mind raced. He had always known Y/N had a way with animals, but this was on another level. The image of Gustave with a collar seemed almost surreal, a bizarre yet endearing addition to the massive reptile.

“I don’t even know what to think,” Steve admitted, shaking his head as he tried to process the idea. “I mean, it’s one thing to feed him and keep him around. It’s another to dress him up like a pet.”

Y/N laughed softly, walking over to him and placing the collar on the desk. “It’s not really about dressing him up. It’s more about making sure he’s comfortable and safe. And, well, it’s also a bit of a fun touch. I think he’ll look quite handsome.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, still looking bewildered but also unable to hide a small smile. “I guess you do have a point. If anyone could turn a crocodile into a well-behaved pet with a collar, it’d be you.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with affection as she approached him, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “Thank you for understanding, Steve. I promise I’m being careful with him.”

Steve sighed, a mix of resignation and admiration in his voice. “Alright, as long as you’re sure this won’t cause any trouble. But you’ve got to admit, this is definitely a new one for me.”

Y/N smiled, taking his hand in hers. “It’s just one of the many surprises that come with me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head with a fond look. “Well, if you can handle a crocodile with a collar, you can handle just about anything.”

As Y/N left to put the collar on Gustave, Steve found himself smiling despite his initial confusion. He might not fully understand it, but he loved that Y/N had such a big heart and a unique way of making everything around her a little bit brighter—crocodile collar and all.

Bucky, Sam, and Natasha were enjoying a rare afternoon off, taking a leisurely stroll around the grounds of Steve's mansion. As they approached the marshland, their conversation turned to various topics, punctuated by the usual banter.

Their chatter came to a halt when they spotted a large crocodile in the distance, with something glinting around its neck.

“No way,” Bucky said, stopping in his tracks and squinting at the sight. “Is that what I think it is?”

Sam followed his gaze, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Is that…a collar? On a crocodile?”

Natasha, equally intrigued, stepped closer for a better view. “It looks like it. What’s going on here?”

Just then, Steve appeared beside them, looking both amused and resigned. “Yep, she got him a collar. And that thing is wearing it.”

The three of them stared, their jaws dropping in surprise.

“Seriously?” Natasha asked, trying to keep her tone light but clearly astonished. “She really put a collar on Gustave?”

Steve nodded, a small, exasperated smile on his face. “Yep. I thought it was a bit much at first, but she’s convinced it’s for his own good. Keeps him identifiable and, well, apparently makes him look quite dashing.”

Bucky shook his head, chuckling in disbelief. “This is unreal. I never thought I’d see a crocodile wearing a collar. Only Y/N could pull something like this off.”

Sam laughed, shaking his head. “You’ve got to admit, it’s impressive. But also a little hard to wrap your head around. I mean, a crocodile with a collar? It’s like something out of a cartoon.”

Natasha smiled, shaking her head in amusement. “It’s definitely a new one. But I guess if anyone can make it work, it’s Y/N.”

Steve shrugged, looking over at the crocodile who was now lounging comfortably in the marsh, collar gleaming in the sunlight. “She’s got a way of making the extraordinary seem ordinary. I never know what to expect next with her, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The three of them exchanged amused glances, still trying to process the sight before them. As they continued to watch Gustave with his new collar, they couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity and charm of it all.

“Well,” Bucky said with a grin, “I guess we should just be grateful she hasn’t started naming all the wild animals around here.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head with a fond smile. “Give her time. You never know what she’ll come up with next.”

As they walked away, the image of the crocodile with its collar remained, a reminder of Y/N’s unique touch and the way she could turn even the most unexpected situations into something special.

As Bucky, Sam, Natasha, and Steve relaxed near the marshland, Y/N approached with a large bucket of meat. With a practiced ease, she walked toward Gustave, the enormous crocodile lounging comfortably in the water. The sight was both mesmerizing and surreal.

Y/N set the bucket down and began feeding Gustave, who eagerly snapped up the meat. Despite his impressive size, the crocodile behaved more like a pampered house cat, snuggling up to Y/N and even rubbing against her affectionately.

“It’s like it’s not a crocodile but a cat,” Bucky said, shaking his head in amazement. “I mean, look at him. He’s practically snuggling up to her.”

Sam nodded, still staring in disbelief. “Yeah, it’s surreal. I’ve never seen a crocodile act like this. It’s like he’s got the temperament of a house cat, not a predator.”

Natasha leaned in, clearly fascinated. “I’ve seen crocodiles before, but nothing like this. He’s so docile and…well, friendly. Y/N must have a real gift with animals.”

Steve watched the scene with a mixture of pride and incredulity. He turned to his friends with a bemused smile. “Well, there you have it. My wife has a crocodile for a pet.”

The trio’s eyes widened even further, their amazement palpable.

“Seriously?” Natasha asked, her tone a mix of disbelief and admiration. “She’s managed to turn a crocodile into a pet?”

Steve chuckled, nodding. “Yep. She has this way of bringing out the gentler side of even the most intimidating creatures. Gustave here is practically her lapdog. She’s been feeding him and caring for him for months now.”

Bucky grinned, still shaking his head. “This is wild. I never thought I’d see a crocodile being treated like a house pet. Only Y/N could pull this off.”

Sam laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m starting to think she could tame anything if she put her mind to it. It’s impressive, really.”

Natasha smiled, watching Y/N with genuine admiration. “It’s amazing to see how she connects with animals. It’s like they can sense her kindness and respond to it.”

Steve’s smile grew as he looked at Y/N and Gustave. “It really is. She turns even the most unexpected things into something special. It’s just one of the many reasons I love her.”

As they continued to watch Y/N feeding and interacting with the massive crocodile, the group marveled at the extraordinary bond between them. The sight of Y/N with Gustave was a testament to her unique ability to connect with and tame even the most unlikely companions. For Steve, it was yet another reminder of the remarkable woman he was lucky enough to call his wife.

As Bucky, Sam, Natasha, and Steve continued to observe from a distance, the scene grew even more astonishing. Y/N, with a carefree laugh, was sitting on Gustave’s back as the massive crocodile slowly crawled through the marshland. It seemed almost comical, with Y/N’s laughter ringing out as she giggled and playfully interacted with her enormous pet.

The trio stared, their expressions a mix of disbelief and amusement.

“Is this really happening?” Bucky asked, rubbing his eyes as if to clear his vision. “I mean, am I seeing things, or is Y/N actually sitting on a crocodile’s back?”

Sam squinted, still in shock. “I’m starting to think we might be high or something. This can’t be real. Who sits on a crocodile like it’s a pony?”

Natasha shook her head, a mix of incredulity and amusement on her face. “I’ve seen a lot in my time, but this is on a whole new level. Y/N is out here treating a crocodile like it’s a giant, scaly plaything.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head as he watched Y/N and Gustave. “I know it sounds crazy, but that’s Y/N for you. She has this way of making the impossible seem normal. I mean, it’s not like I’m surprised anymore. I just get used to it.”

Bucky looked over at Steve, his disbelief turning to admiration. “Man, you weren’t kidding when you said she had a gift with animals. But this… this is something else entirely.”

Sam nodded, still watching with wide eyes. “Yeah, I’m not sure whether to be impressed or think we’ve entered some alternate reality. It’s like a scene from a surreal movie.”

Natasha leaned back, laughing softly. “If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up. It’s definitely one of the most entertaining sights I’ve ever seen.”

Steve smiled, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “You know, I used to think I’d seen it all. But every day with Y/N is a new adventure. If anyone can make a crocodile act like a giant pet, it’s her.”

As they continued to watch Y/N and Gustave, the trio couldn’t help but marvel at the scene before them. Despite their initial shock, they began to appreciate the unique and endearing sight of Y/N’s playful bond with her unusual pet. For Steve, it was just another reminder of the extraordinary woman he was lucky enough to share his life with

Y/N, noticing the trio and Steve watching from a distance, waved them over with an inviting smile. “Hey, come closer! Gustave won’t hurt you, I promise.”

The trio exchanged nervous glances, their apprehension clear as they hesitated at the edge of the marsh. Bucky looked at Steve, his skepticism evident. “Are you sure about this? I mean, it’s not every day you get invited to get up close with a crocodile.”

Steve shrugged, a mix of amusement and concern on his face. “I trust Y/N. If she says Gustave’s safe, he probably is. But if you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to push it.”

Natasha took a deep breath, her curiosity outweighing her hesitation. “Well, if Y/N says it’s okay, I guess we should give it a try. But I’m staying on high alert.”

Sam, still eyeing the crocodile warily, nodded. “Alright, but I’m not getting too close. I’ll take your word for it.”

Y/N noticed their hesitance and called out reassuringly. “Come on, I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I wasn’t sure. Gustave’s really friendly and well-trained. He just loves attention.”

Slowly, the trio approached, their movements cautious. Gustave’s eyes followed them with an almost curious, gentle gaze. Y/N, smiling, patted the crocodile’s back and gestured for them to come closer.

As they neared, Gustave remained calm, his demeanor relaxed as he lay sprawled out. Y/N stood beside him, her confidence a stark contrast to their apprehension. “See? He’s as gentle as a big, scaly teddy bear. You can touch him if you want. He’s very used to people.”

Bucky, still somewhat uncertain, extended a hand tentatively. When Gustave didn’t react aggressively, he slowly began to pet the crocodile’s scaly hide, his eyes widening in surprise. “Okay, this is pretty unreal. He’s actually pretty calm.”

Sam followed suit, his nervousness gradually easing as he felt Gustave’s warm skin beneath his fingers. “I’ve got to admit, this is impressive. I didn’t think I’d ever be this close to a crocodile and feel safe.”

Natasha, finally feeling more at ease, gently touched Gustave’s head. “He’s so much more relaxed than I expected. Y/N, you really do have a way with animals.”

Steve watched with a proud smile, clearly pleased with how his friends were responding. “Told you. Y/N has a gift. She can make even the most intimidating creatures feel right at home.”

Y/N beamed as she watched them interact with Gustave, happy to share her unique bond with her friends. “I’m glad you’re giving him a chance. He’s really special to me, and it’s nice to show you how wonderful he can be.”

As the trio continued to engage with Gustave, their initial apprehension melted away, replaced by amazement and newfound appreciation for Y/N’s extraordinary talent. The crocodile, content and calm, seemed to revel in the attention, making it clear why Y/N had such a special connection with him.

As Y/N continued to interact with Gustave, she suddenly turned to him with a gentle command. “Alright, Gustave, back to the water.”

To everyone’s astonishment, Gustave responded immediately. He lumbered over to the water’s edge, slipping smoothly back into the marshland with a sense of purpose, his powerful tail creating gentle ripples as he submerged.

The trio and Steve stared in stunned silence, their jaws slightly dropped.

“No way,” Bucky finally said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Did he really just obey that command?”

Sam looked equally astonished. “I’ve never seen a crocodile respond to a command like that before. It’s like he’s a trained dog or something.”

Natasha blinked, her eyes wide. “That was incredible. I mean, I knew Y/N had a way with animals, but this… this is next level. Gustave is practically following orders like a pro.”

Steve, watching with a mixture of pride and admiration, nodded. “Yeah, I’m not surprised. Y/N has a unique bond with Gustave, and he trusts her completely. She’s able to communicate with him in a way that’s almost magical.”

Bucky shook his head, still processing the scene. “I’m speechless. This is definitely one of the most impressive things I’ve ever seen. I didn’t think a crocodile could be so well-behaved.”

Sam chuckled, shaking his head with a smile. “Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything. Y/N has really outdone herself with Gustave.”

Natasha smiled, clearly impressed. “It’s amazing. I’m starting to think there’s nothing Y/N can’t do when it comes to animals. She’s got a real gift.”

Y/N watched their reactions with a satisfied smile, happy to show off Gustave’s obedience. “He’s a big softie when you get to know him. I’m glad you’re all seeing just how amazing he is.”

As Gustave settled back into the water, the group continued to marvel at the scene. The crocodile’s unexpected obedience was a testament to Y/N’s extraordinary ability to connect with and train even the most formidable creatures. For Steve and his friends, it was a reminder of the unique and incredible qualities that made Y/N so special.