#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…”

Tags in reblog.

[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

[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

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Running so fast to your inbox!!!!!!

Smut list 2, number 28

And him!

Salivating!!!!!

Daddy's Sweetheart

PAIRING || Husband!Lloyd Hansen x Bimbo!Wife!Fem!Reader x Mobster!Steve Rogers

WORDCOUNT || ~ 700 words

SUMMARY || You've been married to one of the most feared men in the entirety of the United States. As soon as he met you - his kind, soft-spoken wife - he knew he had to have you, and when you allowed him to use you whenever he pleased, he couldn't be happier.

RATING || Mature (M)

TAGS || Established relationship. Bimbo!Reader. Soft!Lloyd.

SMUT || Daddy kink. Exhibitionism. Voyeurism. Dirty talk. Referenced unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!).

A/N || This drabble is part of Nicoline's Summer of Drabbles. Jen, as soon as I saw you requesting Lloyd, I immediately got excited! This is my first time writing about him, so I hope I have done him justice - I also can't wait to write more for him in the future! This isn't proofread; any and all mistakes are my own. 🤍

EVENTS @anyfandomaubingo || Mobster!Steve Rogers @lloydssluts LHWC '24 || "You know what I love about you?"

Photo: Source || All other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Lloyd Hansen || Summer of Drabbles

"You know what I will never understand, Hansen? You have such a pretty thing walking around here, clad in dresses that barely cover anything, yet you're still one of the grumpiest men I've ever known. Maybe you just need to fuck her real good for once, and you're suddenly a whole new man."

Lloyd listens to the man across from him - the famous mobster Steve Rogers, right-hand man to mob boss James "Bucky" Banes - with a relaxed expression, not in the least fazed about how he talked about you—his wife.

"Is that so?" Lloyd asks nonchalantly, swishing the glass of whiskey back and forth a few times before making eye contact with the blond mobster.

"Well, why don't I do that right now while you watch? Let's see if my mood changes after I fuck her brains out until she can't think of anything else than me until she's begging me to stop after I've pumped her so full of my cum it'll be dripping down her thighs for days."

Lloyd's demeanor hasn't changed at all as the words leave his lips, while Steve is certainly interested. With one push of a button, Lloyd summons you to the office - a place you usually only visit when he needs to let out some steam by fucking you until you're nothing but a limp mess in his arms. Within less than a minute, you knock on the heavy wooden doors, a flurry of butterflies going wild in your stomach at your husband's voice.

"There she is! Can you come here for a moment, Sweetheart?" Lloyd says, love clear in his voice. Steve's face contorts at the apparent difference in behavior - he's not used to seeing the soft side of the man across from him. The warmth on your cheeks spreads as you walk into the office, your short, pink sundress fluttering around your hips as you walk in, giving a smile to Steve as you do.

"Hi, Mr. Rogers," you say in a soft tone before bending down to give your husband a gentle kiss on his lips. As you do, you're giving Steve a look at everything beneath your dress and the fact you're usually pantyless when your husband is home.

"C'mere, Sweetheart. Daddy needs you to do something for him, but only if you're a good girl for me, okay? Mr. Rogers has been saying some not-so-nice things about us, and I want to prove him wrong by fucking you right here on my desk. How does that sound?"

"Really?" you say softly, a small pout on your lips as you look at Lloyd, but he squeezes your hip reassuringly. It's okay. Once you give the go-ahead - your husband would never do anything without your consent, after all - he gets up, pushing you with your thighs against the desk, a soft gasp leaving your lips as you feel his erection pressing into the soft flesh of your stomach.

"You know what I love about you?" Lloyd asks, his soft gaze still focused on your curious one as his fingers glide over the skin of your cheek.

"That you're such an easy little girl, letting Daddy do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. No matter who's watching," the grumble of Lloyd's voice sends a shiver down your spine, only turning you on more as you squeeze your thighs together.

''Yes, Daddy, only for you," you whisper as you crane your neck to make eye contact, making Lloyd smile before he leans in, capturing your lips in a deep, dominating kiss that has you melting in your spot as he does. Without pulling away, he helps you up on the desk as he steps between your legs, his erection now pressing against your bare pussy.

Steve's shifting somewhat uncomfortably in his seat as he tries to adjust himself at the sight in front of him, as he sees how willing you are for your husband.

"Let's give Mr. Rogers a show he'll never forget, okay?" Lloyd asks, and you nod as you shift to lie on your back, your head hanging off the other side of the desk, facing Steve. Lloyd quickly frees his achingly hard cock, smirking as he sees your hole clenching around nothing.

The first moment his tip lines up with your dripping hole, a soft whine leaves your lips, the moment feeling even more intense as you make direct eye contact with Steve. However, the next words out of Steve's mouth have you clenching too as a soft moan escapes your lips, while Lloyd grins.

"Take it like a good girl, and stop whining."

[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.

[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.

[buckys-wintersoldier]

His forever and ever

// Chapter One //

// Pairing //

-> (Ex-)Boyfriend!Mob!Bucky Barnes x (Ex-)Girlfriend!Reader

// Summary //

-> Moving on, living with your best friend and working in a part isn’t as easy as you thought but it’s not bad either. Some flirts here and there — you can be whoever you want, right?

// Wordcount //

-> 4.067 Words

// Warnings // Teen

-> angst, kind of stalking, comfort, best friend Steve, flirty John, mention of violence, jealousy,

// Authors Note //

-> The biggest thank you to the amazing @bucks-babe for proofreading and coming up with more details.

// Events //

-> Fandom-Free Bingo: Book Night | B1 | Cold as ice | @fandom-free-bingo

// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //

// Series Masterlist //

<- Prologue

It’s been a few weeks since you left the mansion, the day you left you went to your friend, Steve Rogers. You both know one another since you’re kids, you grew up together. He is like your older brother, he always takes care of you.

He is handsome too, short blond hair, mostly styled and he has a highly defined muscular body, but the best of him are his oversized hoodies. Or more like his fitting hoodies but for you they are way too big and you love wearing them, especially since you broke up with Bucky.

Steve’s hoodies give you some comfort, feeling like a big hug and sometimes you also sleep with them. It doesn’t feel so cold since Bucky isn’t there to cuddle you and Steve is working and cuddling with you on the couch — then his hoodies are the best solution.

Your best friend never judges you for the movies you watch, the ice cream and chocolate you eat or laughs about the amount of tissues you need during these movies or just when you feel like everything's coming up and you need to cry.

He would and has never judged you for that, mostly he is offering you more ice cream or chocolate or he pulls you close against him, caressing your back and telling you that it will be better in a bit, that everything is going to be fine at some point. And that a pretty girl like you will find someone who deserves your love, someone who will treat you like you deserve.

Sometimes you ask yourself why your best friend needs to be gay, it would be so much easier to marry him, you know him so well and even though you’re not even the slightest bit over Bucky the thought of marrying your gay best friend is a bit funny.

Bucky is on your mind whenever you’re not fully distracted, when you close your eyes you see him in front of you and when you go out and see a man with long brown hair you always feel like it’s him. He is following you everywhere and you try as best as you can to move on but your heart still aches.

Little do you know Bucky feels the exact same but he doesn’t show it like you do. The man you used to know is deep down under a surface of hate and power. He doesn’t want anyone — not even his friends — to call him Bucky any longer, he is James Barnes and people have to look up to him.

The main time of the day he is working, mostly from the early morning into the night, but when he walks back into his room, the man he tries to be the whole day breaks down, his heart shattered and he didn’t know that it’s even possible that he can break that much.

James Barnes is nothing but a broken man, missing the only woman he loves, he is nothing without you, he can’t even laugh without you being around to give him a reason to laugh. The light in his dark turned off, leaving a hole where he is still falling, he feels like there is no ground underneath him.

“James?” One of his men asks and he looks up, rolling his eyes annoyed. Bucky has dark shadows under his eyes, he doesn't get much sleep and he mostly cries himself to sleep — thinking he is pathetic, crying as a mobster but he can’t help when he thinks about you and especially not when he thinks about you moving on, maybe having another man who makes you happy.

“What? Can't you all just fuck off and do as you're told?” He asks, his voice dark but slightly shaking. Since the day you left the mansion to move on without him he isn't himself anymore. Or maybe he is but he is the darkest and coldest side of himself he can be, trying to forget everything, trying to move on but who would he be? Would he move on without you by his side?

How could he dare to love himself when he pushed the only person who means everything for him away like she doesn't mean anything for him. He looks at the man in front of you, his blue eyes a storm of emotion but only for the ones who have seen the real man behind that cold surface, who have seen the lovely and sweet man.

“You wanted us to keep you updated,” the other man says, slightly shifting from one foot to the other. James doesn't care, he already knows, of course he told his men to keep him updated about you but as much as he tries to focus on his other work he just can. So he spends most of the day following every step you do, finding out about the place you live now, the place you work or where you spent your nights with.

“And do you have news or do you want to waste my time by standing around instead of doing your work?” James asks, rolling his eyes once again, sighing deeply. He leans forward, placing his forearms on the desk he is sitting at, his sleeves rolled up, revealing his muscular tattooed arms. “Dickhead.”

The man who is still standing in the door of James' office looks at his boss with a slight shock in his widened eyes. He plays with his fingers, trying to calm his nervousness before he clears his throat, looking away from James. “S—She is going to the bar today, probably working but we heard that Steve is going there with her.”

Steve? James knows about your best friend, your gay best friend. He nods, scratching his beard. “Steve, huh? Describe him.”

The man nods, trying to remember the man he means. He inhales deeply, still nervous around the mobster and James' anger doesn't make it better at all. “Light brown hair, uhm tall and muscles, he had a girl close to him.”

“Oke, fuck off now.” The man turns immediately around, making his way as fast as possible out of James' office. The brown-haired mobster leans back in his chair, inhaling deeply while he tries to blink the tears away. It’s not your best friend youre going out with so who the fuck is that guy?

What does that Steve guy that he doesn’t have? Bucky could have given you the town, the whole world, but also the flowers you love so much, so what do you see in Steve? James brings his hand to his hair, sliding his fingers through his soft brown hair and when he closes his eyes for a moment it feels like it's your soft, smaller hand that combs his hair back. Your scent still lingering everywhere he goes and he is sure that it's just in his mind because not even your shirt you forgot is smelling like you anymore.

Sometimes it feels like the weight of the world is crashing on top of him, showing him over and over again that he messed up and that he should have been a better boyfriend for you. Maybe you would still live with him, maybe you would love him the way you used to and just maybe you would have your own little family now.

So just as he does so often he plans to look after you, making sure you're fine even though he never talked to you. James often went out to the place you were, looking for you and looking at you from a distance, he didn't want you to know that he is following you everywhere like a lost puppy — like the lost and broken puppy he is without your warmth and love. James gets up from his chair, making his way through his office to get ready for the evening to finally get you back, to get back the woman he loves more than anything else.

“Stevie, can we go now?” You ask, laughing when your best friend still struggles with his outfit. He walks out of his room, holding up two different shirts, and looks at you with a questioning gaze. With a playful roll of your eyes you look at the shirts he is holding in his hands until you point at the light blue one with the silver star on his shoulder. He nods with a soft smile, turning around and changes his shirt before he stands for the next problem of the evening.

“How do I want to style my hair? Do you think there are some hot guys, then I should look good too, maybe I can take one home later,” he giggles, standing in front of his mirror, fingers running to his short blond hair while he tries to style them a bit.

You chuckle, getting off the couch and walking into his room, standing behind him and he immediately gets on his knees so you can help him with his hair. A groan leaves your lip when you realize how easy he is going on his knees for you. “You always look handsome, Stevie. But how about we comb them back? Maybe they are going on their knees for you just as fast as you did for me right now.”

Steve laughs, letting his head fall back against your leg and smiles at you. His ocean blue eyes glowing slightly and for a moment you see Bucky kneeling in front of you. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply and letting your mind run wild, imagine Bucky there with you, the way he looked at you with such adoration and love in his eyes. Whenever he looked at you his smile grew and his eyes lit up in the most beautiful blue, you always compared it with the ocean, especially during the sunset when the sun was kissing the ocean.

“Princess, hey, look at me,” Steve says, lifting his hand to bring it to your cheek, he wipes away the tears you didn't even know were covering your cheeks. You open your eyes, looking at your best friend, who smiles sadly at you.

He would love to take that pain away from you, to help you forget Bucky but he also knows that you're just not ready to do that. Your heart belongs to the mobster and it will probably forever.

“How about we let my hair be a bit messy?” Steve suggests and gets up before you can say anything. You nod, taking a step backwards and letting him get up. He holds his arms out for you to let him hug you and you smirk a bit when you let him pull you close against his chest. You can feel his defined muscles and his heart beating in a steady pace against his ribcage.

After the needed hug you make your way to the bar you're working at. Steve and you were often there to get you distracted after the break-up with Bucky. And you really appreciate it because just a week after going there the first time the boss of the bar asked you to work there as bartender and you immediately agreed.

It's a small bar with a little dance floor, the people who work there with you are really nice and also the customers are always nice. When they aren’t you can tell the bodyguards that you feel uncomfortable and they would immediately throw them out of the bar. Your boss made it clear “You feel uncomfortable? Let the bodyguards know and they will throw them out. Want my people to have fun at work, so never hesitate to say something.”

You’re already working for around half an hour and Steve is sitting in front of you, talking to you. You both always gossip over the boys in the bar, especially the ones Steve likes to look at and the ones who look at him. “Do you see that small guy there? The one with the dark hair.”

Steve nods in a direction and you chuckle when you see the man he is talking about. The other man is definitely that type of guy Steve would date. You smirk, leaning over so you're closer to Steve. “Catch him, tiger.”

Your best friend turns around, laughing about that nickname. You don't know when you called him that the first time but you describe his way to get a boy is always like a tiger is looking for his food, quiet and careful before he jumps on top of it.

When the smaller man walks closer to the two of you, your grin widens. You notice that man, you have seen him a few times here already and he was often looking at Steve then. You know his name and you also know his favorite drink, so you tap Steve's shoulder to get his attention, leaning closer once again.

“Stevie, he is coming here. I know his name and his favorite drink, do you want to impress him?” You ask, laughing when Steve’s eyes widen in excitement before he nods slightly. “His name is Anthony Stark but he prefers to be called Tony, and his drink is whiskey, so do you want to order two whiskeys for the two of you?”

You already prepare the drinks when Steve nods and turns lightly to the side to find Tony standing just a bit away from him. Your best friend gets off the chair, holding his hand out for Tony to take it and the smaller man does, smirking at the blond-haired man.

“Hi, handsome, how about a drink? Maybe a whiskey?” Steve asks, catching the smaller man off guard until he hears you giggle and looks at you, shaking his head. Tony then nods, letting go of Steve's hand and walking closer to the bar you're standing at, he takes a seat, waiting for Steve to do the same.

“Here you are, boys,” you say, smirking when both of them are already deep in their own talks, only nodding their heads as a thank you for the drink. You continue to work, making drinks and snacks for every one who asks for something.

When you have a short break, you stare at the people dancing in the middle of the bar, laughing and then you see Steve and Tony jumping and dancing around, waving at you. You wave back, laughing softly about their cuteness. You don’t notice the man who is sitting close to where you’re standing at the bar, his eyes roaming over your face and he can't help but need to smirk when he sees your eyes light up and your lips curl into such a beautiful smile.

“They look happy, have seen you know them? Such a cute couple,” the man says and you yelp in surprise, turning your head and feeling your cheeks heat up. He smirks at you, changing his seat to be closer to you and you giggle softly, when he places his arms on the surface of the table, his smirk grows when you prepare a drink for him.

“With or without lemon?” You ask, already letting a bit of lemon fall down into the glass filled with whiskey. Before he can answer he sees you adding the sour fruit and nodding, tilting his head to the side when you place the glass in front of him. “For free, because I'm in a good mood after seeing my best friend being so happy like that.”

The man chuckles, he then takes a sip of the drink and growls satisfied about the taste. “It's perfect, I'm John by the way, and who is the pretty girl I have the honor to talk to?” John asks and you giggle lightly, you had a lot of flirts since you have been working in the bar but he is definitely one of your favorites.

“I'm Y/N,” you tell him, looking straight into his blue eyes. Sometimes you wonder if you have a kind of weakness for men with blue eyes. But whoever stands in front of you can have the most beautiful eyes but they are nothing compared to Bucky’s, especially not to his ones when he was laughing.

It annoys you that he is always in your mind, stopping you from being happy completely but on the other side you're scared that when you would stop thinking about him that often you could forget about him. He hurt you, he broke promises and broke a part of you with that but no matter what he did you love him more than you ever thought you could love someone.

“Such a beautiful name. Are you alright, you're not looking as happy as you best friend and his date,” the blond haired man asks and you try to smile it away, the pain that is glistening in your eyes. “Do you know, I'm a stranger but I'm a cool stranger and sometimes it's easier to tell someone you don't know about your problems instead of someone you do know very well.”

He takes another sip of his whiskey, his eyes still piercing in yours and you sigh softly, shaking your head. Maybe he is right, maybe you should tell him about Bucky, about your break-up. But when you do you better not call Bucky by his name, people like to react really weird when they know that you were together with a mobster. You make yourself a drink too, just lemonade with some ice before you place your hands on the counter in front of you, nodding your head.

“You could be right. I mean I don't know but who cares right?” You laugh awkwardly, trying to make it easier for you to talk about Bucky. John nods, waiting patiently for you to continue talking.

You feel comfortable around him, like you’ve known him longer than just these five minutes. His patient and his soft smirk across his face causes you to relax, you weren't able to do that in a while but you're glad you can relax around another man than Steve — or Bucky — especially right now. And a part of you is glad that he isn't just one who wants to flirt with you but is really interested in you and your feelings.

“My bo- my ex-boyfriend and I broke up a few weeks ago. He used to be so sweet and caring but at some point it felt like his work was the most important thing in his life. He promised to go out but he never kept that promise, he made it up to me— yeah, with really good sex. But it's not all when you never get the affection and love you crave and when your boyfriend thinks you're self-evident and willing to forgive him everything no matter how bad he hurts you,” you tell John, his smirks fades away and his eyes narrow slightly. He places his hands underneath his chin, nodding when you finished talking, giving himself a moment to process what you just said.

After a moment he clears his throat, he interlocks his fingers and places his chin on top of them once again, then he smirks softly at you. “He didn't know what he had when he treated you like that. Heartbreaks always hurt but I'm sure you will find someone who will bring back your smile, who will love you and where you’re the priority in his life,” John says and makes you blush.

Even though you blush and appreciate his words, whenever you hear those words you think about Bucky. The way he used to touch you, his lips so soft and warm against your skin, he knows you better than you do and the way he just looked at you. He always found the best solution to comfort you even though it was just a hug or kisses, he always had a solution for every feeling that wasn't happiness. You felt like you were the most adorable woman, even the day you moved out he looked at you like that, you can still see his teary, red eyes when you told him that you need to move on when you close your eyes.

When you open your mouth to say something you see someone walking toward the bar. You swallow thickly, recognizing the man who makes his way toward you. Only now you notice the way the people close around the bar whisper something to one another and stare into two directions, the one is toward you where the broad man is walking toward the bar you're standing behind and the direction is to the lounge in a corner of the bar.

John turns a bit around to look at the man who causes your eyes to widen. Your body starts to tremble and you don't even have to look to the lounge to know who is sitting there. You inhale deeply, maybe they just want a drink and nothing more, he doesn't know that you're working in the bar, right? But he always told you he will find you and he can find everyone and anything if he wants.

“H—Hi, do you want to have a drink? Maybe with some snacks?” You ask nicely, hands shaking when you want to turn around to grab two glasses. He didn't even pay attention to you, Thor — Bucky's Bodyguard — looks down at John who narrows his eyebrows, looking confused between you and the broad man in front of him.

“You should leave now,” Thor growls, nodding his head toward the door but John doesn't move. You feel really uncomfortable right now but you’re frozen to the ground, not able to walk a step or ask some of the bodyguards of the bar. And you're not even sure if they would throw the mobster and his man out of the bar.

“I don't think you can tell me what to do, and I’m having a good talk with this beautiful girl here, so please leave us alone,” John says, calmly when he turns back toward you. His eyes widen when he sees the terror in your eyes, and your body trembles while you stare at Thor. “Are you oke?”

You move your head slightly to look at John, nodding your head before you shake it and swallow thickly once again. Thor's hand snaps forward, grasping John's chin and turning his face with force back toward you before he forces John to tilt his head back, grabbing tight around his jaw while Thor leans closer. There are only inches away between both men's faces. “I told you to leave and I won't say that again. My boss doesn't like it when someone who isn’t him flirts with his girl.”

“You can tell Bucky that I'm not his girl anymore. I broke up so leave John alone,” you say, feeling a smooth tingling in your lower belly that Bucky still says that you belong to him. But at the same time you are kind of mad that he wants to decide who you’re dating, especially when he just walks into the bar and doesn’t even let you talk to John.

John wiggles out of Thor's grip, getting off the chair and walking a few steps backwards. The broad man looks at him, grinning lightly but before he can react John lifts his hand and hits Thor across his face. The bodyguard's eyes widen and he walks a few steps back, looking with shock and confusion in his eyes at the smaller man.

“I’m sorry, John,” you mumble, earning just a soft smile and a shake of his head from the man. You don’t need to apologize for something you didn’t do. Thor just wants to step closer toward John when his phone buzzes. He reads whatever the other person wrote before he furrows, stares at John, then looks at you and smirks.

“He doesn’t like it when you make him jealous, you know that,” he mumbles, turning around and heading back to the lounge. You follow him with your eyes and then you see HIM.

Bucky Barnes, the man who still owns your heart, the one and only man for you. But also the one who hurt you and the one who scares other men away from you, making sure there is no one you can date when it’s not him.

-> Chapter Two

-> Asks, ideas, small Drabble ideas are appreciated! So feel free to reach out in case you have ideas or questions.

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[hansensgirl]

summary. | You make a chilling discovery about your best friend.

prompts. | Steve Rogers + Mob/Mafia + “You ask too many questions. Just relax.” + Corruption, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!mobster!Steve Rogers x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, lying, corruption kink, mobs/mafia stuff, steve owns a gun, pet names, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

Your hands shake when you look deeper into Stevie’s jacket, making sure you saw it right. A gun. The shape and weight are both undeniable, and you wonder why your best friend would have something like this. When you squint, you see an emblem of the city’s most feared mob with his initials.

The discovery makes you feel hollow. Practically betrayed. 

“Honey? I got the popcorn. Did you find a movie yet?” the blond asks, interrupting your train of thought. You quickly move away from your spot and try to play it off cool, all while planning a way to escape. You need time to think, time for yourself.

“N– No, not yet. I haven’t even chosen a genre yet,” you giggle nervously. Steve chuckles and gives you his signature charming smile. This time, however, chills run down your spine.

You don’t know much about the mob, but you do know that you should be scared of each member, no matter the position. 

“Aw, poor baby. You open to any suggestions?” Steve questions, sitting on your couch. He grabs the remote and turns the television on, waiting for your response. “Uh, sure,” you say, sitting on the couch. 

You try to maintain a distance from him, but the larger man grabs you gently and pulls you next to him, hooking you under his heavy arm. 

“How about The Godfather?” he mindlessly offers, and your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. “Th– The Godfather? Are you sure?” you repeat, nervous. Does he know about your snooping? What you found? Is he going to hurt you? The questions make you dizzy.

“Yeah, why not? Buck and I have been dyin’ to see it for a while,” he explains. “Heard it’s pretty good. They did a lot of research for that one, y’know.” Steve has already found the film. He presses play and offers you some popcorn.

You refuse him, lacking an appetite. Your mouth is dry, and you find yourself eyeing Steve. He meets your gaze each time, flashing that grin and stroking your bare arm with his thumb. You hate this—you almost hate him. It’s as if he’s messed everything up, and you nearly resent him for it.

“You alright, sweetheart?” your best friend eventually speaks up, not daring to tear his eyes away from the screen. You nod your head. “Y– Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” you scoff, even picking up a piece of popcorn to really convince him.

“I dunno. But you would tell me the truth, right, honey? No matter what?” Steve asks, fully turning his head to look at you. You gulp thickly.

“Of course… You would, too, right, Stevie?” you hum. “‘Course.” A few moments of silence pass.

“Well, not everything. The boss would have my head, y’know?” he chuckles like his profession is something hilarious. You can feel your stomach dropping. “All those bloody nights and bullet wounds…” Steve clicks his tongue and fakes a grimace, trailing off.

“Wh– What do you mean, Stevie? What are you talking about?” you innocently ask him. Steve grabs your chin and turns your head, forcing you to make eye contact with him. You watch as his eyes flick between your features before landing on your lips.

“You ask too many questions. Just relax. I can hear your heart beating through your chest,” he notes. But you can’t relax, not when your best friend turns out to be a man you barely even know. 

Steve watches as tears glass over your eyes, the fear making you shake. You have no reason to be afraid, not when he’ll always be there to protect you. “Oh, I’m going to have so much fun ruining you, baby.” 

[biteofcherry]

To find the light, we must first touch the darkness

Please also check out @bluepinkangel​’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤

dark!mafia Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.

warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; power imbalance; forced relationship; violence; death (minor character); D/s undertones; gun play; gun play kink; explicit sexual situation; faint choking kink; mention of breeding kink;

I did warn you this Steve is dark 😜

word count: 8k

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 4. Heated hail

~ * ~ 

Hues of orange and purple brushed over the horizon in softest strokes as the sun settled down, but your heart couldn’t settle in your chest, every few hours jumping into a rapid patter to the tune of anxiety. 

Staying in the safety of your apartment for two days after the horrid events didn’t help much, it still felt impossible to ease into your new life with its stains of alluring darkness. 

You called in sick the morning after your engagement. Then stayed home for another day, as well. Hiding worked no miracles, your brain was very much conscious of the events that happened and of the things awaiting you, but at least you didn’t have to face it all for those few more hours of denial.

Though no one appeared on your doorstep and you didn’t sense any eyes on you as you occasionally walked out onto your tiny balcony, you were convinced that Steve knew very well where you were. 

At all times.

It was a blessing he didn’t march into your home with a wedding gown, forcing you to say the vows immediately. You half expected it, since your continued talk after the kiss included Steve’s announcement that you’re to be married in a month. 

He wasn’t interested in waiting.

It seemed that even when Steve Rogers appeared patient, it was only when he knew the results he demanded would come precisely in the time window he approved of. 

Giving you a month was undoubtedly an act of grace in his eyes, since he could’ve as well dragged you in front of some registrar the very next day. 

Or maybe it was a wicked torment on his part, making you organize a wedding you didn’t really want. Not ripping off the band aid quickly, but making conscious decisions (as indifferent as they may be) about details regarding the ceremony of binding yourself to Steve for life.

True torture was playing the part of shocked and grief-stricken when Natalie called you a few hours earlier to inform you of Felix’s tragic car accident.

You nearly laughed hysterically at that.

Car accident. Sure.

Against a truck branded Rogers. 

You had no idea if they staged it so that it looked like an accident after they'd beaten him to death (or done worse things to him), or if Rogers had enough officers under his thumb that they classified it as such, without letting anyone know the truth. 

But you knew the truth. Most of it, anyway, without gory details.   

Maybe you shouldn’t feel sad, considering Felix gave you to another mobster on a silver platter. Who knows how that meeting would go, if Steve hadn’t intervened. However, you were still human and, even if occasionally you felt a taste for drawing blood when someone pissed you off, you didn’t wish anyone death. 

You would have to play the shocked and sorrowful employer in front of the health center employees, which was also why you dreaded going back to work. 

It would be easier, perhaps, if your mind reacted in the way it was supposed to. 

Though you knew people reacted to trauma in various ways, there were certain symptoms you expected from yourself. They never came.

When you dragged yourself to bed, you fell asleep easily. Steve Rogers haunted your dreams, but they weren’t exactly nightmares you’d expect. 

Those dreams were ridiculous, really. Dark, yes. In a gothic horror setting almost. No terror wrecked your body, however. You didn’t scream in fear, nor wake up drenched in sweat as you dreamt of running away from the altar only to fall straight into Rogers’ arms. 

You were processing it all too logically, as if you were only wedding stressed and annoyed with Rogers, not in fear for your life and that of your loved ones. 

If you were your own patient, you’d ask yourself if there were aspects of the arrangement with Steve that you found benefiting? Something that perhaps drew you to him?

You still had no answer to that question as you finally walked into the health center on the next day. 

Steady, slow steps; a pace perhaps a heartbeat slower than your usual. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor echoing through the quiet halls. 

Natalie waited for you in your office, as she always did without fail. In a way, she was playing a role just like you; wearing a mask to function without a hitch. Organizer in hand, she recited to you the changes she made due to your short sick leave and those that needed to be made for the day of Felix’s funeral. 

A thought crossed your mind briefly, of what Steve would say about you going to Felix’s funeral. Since he apparently belonged to a branch of the mafia, attendance of Hydra mobsters and other of their operatives was highly possible, and you didn’t think Rogers would want you anywhere near them. 

You viewed yourself as merely a civilian boss of the man that passed, but you possessed enough intelligence to recognize you were now also a part of a rivaling mob - no matter how reluctant your participation was. 

Not only by shared business, but ranking now much higher in your status as the fiancée to the ruthless mob boss. 

You didn’t mention to Natalie that you weren’t sure if you’d be going to the funeral at all, only nodding at her skilfully reorganized schedule. 

“There’s one more thing,” she said, closing her calendar.

She walked to the door, opened them and beckoned someone over. A young man, a boy really, entered your office with a shy smile on his face. 

Unruly hair, which he combed neatly, but they still betrayed harmlessly chaotic functioning of youth. A pressed collar of a button down shirt peeked above his blue cardigan. He reminded you of first year students, or apprentices at their first posting. 

The first person in the past few days who seemed innocent and you welcomed that change with a softened heart. 

“This is Peter Parker.” Natalie announced.

“Hi! Nice to meet you,” the boy cut the space between the two of you and extended his hand for you to shake. 

“Peter has just applied for our vacant position.” Natalie’s voice remained neutral and professional, but the way she accented vacant position left no doubt that it meant Felix’s job. 

Which shouldn’t be announced this soon. No one would post an ad without your authorization. So unless one of the center’s workers tried to push his own son or nephew into free position, that Parker kid was sent in by someone who knew of the brutally gained opening. 

“Son of a bitch.” You cursed under your breath. 

Natalie arched a single brow, but said nothing as you picked up your phone and unlocked it with a murderous glare. Parker said nothing either, only looked your way slightly bewildered. 

Shame that Rogers didn’t warn him about your newly discovered tendencies to outbursts. 

That it was Steve Rogers’ move, you had no doubt. 

You found his name in your contacts - Steve typed it in himself, teasing you that a fiancée should have her future husband’s number in her phone.

He picked up quickly, actually surprising you that he answered at all. You thought his phone number to be more of a reminder for you that you gave yourself away to him, rather than being able to actually call him. So when you heard his voice on the other end of the line, you choked on your words for a second. 

“Princess?”

You wondered if he saved your number under that pet name.

“The center was supposed to remain under my control,” you hissed into the phone when you regained your voice. “Hiring people should be my decision.”

“Peter’s very approachable and he learns fast,” came Steve’s reply; his voice soft, but there was that lining of finality to his decision.

You paused, once again surprised. This time by the fact Steve wasn’t playing lying games, just cutting straight to the core of the problem. Which also meant he anticipated your reaction, but did it anyway, disregarding your opinion on the matter. 

You’d laugh at the irony of it - that a man being truthful and direct in an important conversation (traits you valued), at the same time was the fucking bane of your existence. 

“Is he even of age?” You snorted, glancing Parker’s way. “He looks sixteen.” 

“I’m twenty two.” Peter chimed in and you frowned.

He really didn’t look to be over twenty. Then again, in the past you’ve been asked for an ID even though you were way over twenty five. You had no idea how young people were when they started working for the mob. 

Perhaps Rogers had no conscience and hired kids for dirty jobs too. 

“He’s legal,” Steve sounded amused. “No forged papers on him. Lives alone with his aunt, so a solid job, like the one at the center, is something he needs.”

You did not believe in Rogers’ sympathy, not for a second. Perhaps he took care of his employees in a peculiar way, but you wouldn’t mistake it for him actually caring if Peter’s dreams come true, or if his economical status is secured. 

Moreover, you suspected he used Peter’s wobbling financial stability as a means to lure him into the mafia in the first place.

“Then he could’ve applied without your commendation. Since it’s his own motivation to work here, right?” You allowed yourself a defiant tilt of your chin and a challenging gaze, since Steve couldn’t see it anyway. 

You weren’t stupid to believe Steve pushed the kid into this position only because Peter needed it. More likely, Steve wanted someone from his own batch to infiltrate the center. Maybe even to keep an eye on you, though you seriously didn’t imagine how a barely-out-of-teens boy was supposed to do that. 

“Recommendation is an additional bonus to an otherwise great employee you’ll be hiring.” 

You didn’t know Steve well enough yet to assess by his tone alone if he was growing annoyed with this conversation, or rather bored (since he knew you would be agreeing to his demands anyway, unless you wanted more harm happening). 

“That depends on the recommendation,” you muttered, too late realizing you said it out loud.

“You don’t trust my word, Princess?” A deeper timbre resounded in Steve’s voice, sending a shiver across your skin. 

He wasn’t there, but you could easily imagine the glint in his blue eyes as he peered at you from beneath his long eyelashes. An edge of a blade caressing your breakable skin.

“I’m miffed at you planting your fucking seeds in my center, when it was supposed to stay under my care!” 

There was a pause after you snapped.

One in which you cursed yourself inwardly for once again antagonizing someone who held your life in his hands, quite literally. Your heart thumped loudly, you felt the echo of it through your bones. 

However, when Steve’s voice returned with a reply, it wasn’t a promise of your death. 

Though it may as well have been, considering his words.  

“I can plant different seeds, if you wish. Inside you, Princess.”

Your intake of breath was sharp, your pupils widened and your mouth hung open. He did not just say that!, your mind screeched, while your body roused in alertness. 

You hung up the phone without uttering a single more word to Steve, then tossed it to the far edge of the desk as if it burned you. Your gaze lingered on it for a moment longer, in fear of it ringing to life. 

You couldn’t comment on Steve’s innuendo. Acknowledging it meant recognizing this particular aspect of marriage, which you somehow repressed from your mind. 

No, your marriage to Rogers was supposed to be only on paper, only for his gain of the lands and immunity. 

A facade, with a shiny ring and your new last name stained with the blood of Steve’s opponents. Not a true merging of two people, neither in minds nor in hearts, definitely not in bodies. 

A quiver pattered down your spine like a strummed string at the sudden, vivid image of Rogers’ thick body pressing into your naked space.

Fear, it had to be. But it also carried a rush of adrenaline that tingled in your nipples and brought heat to the sensitive shell of your ear.

“I need a break,” you shook yourself out of it and abruptly moved. “I’m going for coffee.”

“I can make you some,” Natalie offered, observing you with perfectly masked curiosity. 

It was a change in your behavior, this sudden restlessness and outbursts of unresolved tension. As stressful as taking over a big health center was, you managed to remain calm and professional since the first day. Natalie witnessed you roll your eyes a few times and assertively set yourself, but this was a novelty. 

She could only assume it was because of the tragic loss of an employee so early in your work, maybe suspect Rogers was threatening you. You doubted she’d ever imagine the extent of sweet terror he planned for you.

“No, I have to get out for a few minutes.” You weren’t even sure you really wanted coffee, a shot of vodka would be a better option. 

But you needed to step outside for a few minutes; to not see Peter’s boyish face with its innocence written all over it, while you knew the darkness he was signing his soul to. You hoped his only job was to tattle on you. 

You grabbed your handbag, purposely ignored your phone still hanging on the edge of the desk, and strode toward the exit. 

“What about Peter?” Natalie asked before you reached the door, both of them staring at you expectantly. 

“Hire him.” You sighed, anger whipping in your tone. 

“And you!” You glared Peter’s way. “Make sure your other boss knows that within these walls your duties are only to the center.” 

It was a bold statement. One you probably had no leverage to actually make real. In terms of power, Rogers had more of it, since he had it also over you. If he gave Peter a different task to run along his duties at the health center, that order would come first. 

Still, you wanted to make your opinion clear and install some respect for the work here. 

As you walked to the nearby coffee shop, you glanced around a few times to check if anyone was following you. You had no proof of Rogers sending someone to trail you, yet you were convinced of it. 

If he had, they were skilled at blending in, since no one seemed suspicious to you.

The usual buzzing noise of the coffee shop - conversations combined with quiet music and clinking of glass - felt like a soothing lullaby to your strained nerves. You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries. 

By the time you got your order, you had mostly calmed down. You were still pissed off, but there was no point in exhausting yourself fighting a losing battle. 

It was time to accept the uncomfortable truth of Steve’s upper hand. At all times. 

As you stirred your coffee with a paper spatula, someone stepped next to you. In your peripheral vision you caught their hand reaching for three packets of sugar. 

“I’d suspect having Rogers on your tail requires a stronger brew than coffee.” A smooth, melodic male voice started casually.

His words froze you in place for a second, trepidation stopping your heart and then rushing it into a rapid beat. 

You said nothing, tossing your spatula into the bin and quickly reaching for the cup lid to put on your paper cup and leave the place. The man’s hand slipped between you and the lid, pushing it to the side as he reached for the cinnamon sprinkle; his gesture seemingly so innocent.  

As he withdrew his hand, glass jar of cinnamon in his hand, your gaze dropped onto a leather casing left on the counter right next to your coffee. 

A police badge. In the name Quentin Duvall.

Was it a test? Since all signs on earth and in heaven pointed that Rogers had police and other agencies in his pocket, this could be a game to see if you’d stay loyal to your future husband. 

Logically, he shouldn’t expect you to. It was only your lack of connection that you didn’t dare to seek help in the law enforcement, for if you had some friend of a friend who was an officer then you’d go to them in a heartbeat. 

You were quite certain Steve knew you would and he probably didn’t care.

“He’s a pain not only in your ass,” the man said, exchanging the cinnamon for his badge. “It’s hard to build a case against him when more than half of my colleagues are on his payroll.”

“What do you want?” Your fingers squeezed the paper cup, coffee sloshing to the brim. 

You didn’t lift your head to look at him, figuring it was best to keep the impression of a casual conversation over coffee station. If you were being watched, perhaps it wouldn’t be too suspicious. 

“There’s an ATF agent working to build a case against Rogers’ mob. He’d like to meet you and propose a way to provide you protection for whatever you can bring to the table.”

“Why won’t he contact me directly?” Deliberately, you picked a jar of chocolate sprinkles and added them to your cooling coffee.

“Since he’s one of the very rare daring to hunt Rogers, he’s on the fucker’s radar. If he appeared anywhere near, Rogers would know of it and it could end badly for you.” There was a hint of concern in Duvall’s voice, but not enough to be a poor actor’s play.

Then again, maybe it was a perfect play. Luring you with a safeline, but making it risky so you wouldn’t see it as a trap right away. 

“If you want to help-” he picked a spatula and stirred his own coffee- “if you want to get out of Rogers’ grip, come here the day after tomorrow at the same time. I’ll give you the meeting details then.” 

He took his cup and left, merging with the group of friends that were exiting at the same time. You waited a few moments, carefully putting the lid on your cup and lifting it to your mouth for a long, thoughtful sip.

Your walk back to the center was sluggish, your gaze switching from staring blankly ahead to staring at the pavement beneath your feet. 

If it was a test and you failed it, what sort of consequences would Steve draw out? If, by some miracle, a just officer could save you from the dragon guarded tower, shouldn’t you risk it? 

As you sat in your office, too preoccupied with the new dilemma, your irritation grew. That someone appeared and rocked the boat on an already stormy sea. 

Though a flicker of hope tempted you to take the risk and meet the agent, you were annoyed that it came as another drastic change in your life in such a short time. Honestly, a part of you simply wanted to just go steady with one route, even if it was the one with you on Rogers’ leash.

At least it would be settled. If you kept fighting, not only would it piss off Rogers, but it meant exhaustion for you. Perhaps a never ending one. 

Because was there really a chance for protection from Steve, if his ties reached to the Capitol and beyond?

Natalie found you deep in thought and blankly staring at the window of your office. She did a quick scan of the untouched documents which you should be working on, then flicked her gaze to you. 

Whatever she saw in your face, it made her close the door to your office and lock it. 

She moved a free chair to sit next to you on your side of the desk and in a hushed tone asked what was going on.

You looked at her for a long, silent moment. It would be reckless to tangle another innocent soul into the sticky, dark web in which you were trapped. You didn’t want to put her in danger. But you needed someone to know, someone who was a part of it from the beginning even if it was as a bystander.

Natalie and Felix were the ones who told you the truth of who Steve is in the first place, so at least you didn’t have to reveal to her something she wouldn’t already know about the man. 

With a sigh, you opened your mouth and told her everything. 

As you studied Natalie’s face afterwards, you realized she might have been the best choice to share the burden. There was no fear on her face, no panic settling in. She frowned, processing it all and you almost could sense the cogs in her head turning as she conjured up a plan. 

“That officer, what was his name again?” She asked, sliding her phone out of her pocket and typing rapidly.

“Duvall. Quentin Duvall.” You told her. “Why?”

“I fucked a guy who has ways to check people’s background,” Natalie replied without an ounce of shame or awkwardness. “A computer geek. I’ll ask him to check if officer Duvall is who he claims to be.”

“Oh!” That way at least you’d know if it wasn’t a scheme. “That’s helpful. Thank you.”

Natalie didn’t acknowledge your gratitude, as if it wasn’t even needed. Determined and focused on the task, she exchanged text messages with whomever was so into her he still agreed to do for her something that was probably illegal.

Since you were engaged to a mob boss, you weren’t going to judge. 

Few hours later, just as you were finishing for the day, Natalie returned to your office with ready information. 

“It’s your choice,” she said, taking her jacket off. 

Thin bracelets on her wrist jingled faintly, a peek of a small spider tattoo on her forearm quickly disappeared beneath the folded jacket which she draped over her arm.

“But I think you should meet him. A meeting doesn’t yet mean you’re agreeing to anything.” She walked next to you as both went toward the exit. “If they don’t offer you actual solid protection, you simply give them nothing.”

“What if Rogers finds out about the meeting and it angers him? Even if I don’t say anything yet.” Somehow, as you thought of the consequences to your decision, it was Steve’s face that kept popping in your head. 

His icy eyes trained on you; his fingers stroking you before clenching around your throat. 

Natalie paused, glancing at you with a scowl. She didn’t seem annoyed with your question, but rather with the fact she had no certain answer for it. Natalie liked knowing everything. 

“That I don't know.” She admitted, with a small pout. “In different circumstances I’d go for some predictable wrath, but honestly? He declared your engagement. That’s definitely completely unpredictable. So who knows what he’d do.” 

It was a very small, very naive consolation, but you reminded yourself that if he wanted you dead, Rogers would have made that happen already. 

If you were his employee who betrayed him, then severe torture awaited, if not aforementioned death. 

What awaited an unruly fiancee?

You hoped to never find out. Being extra careful in your act of casual trip to the coffee shop on the pointed day, you already considered potential excuses for another meeting, details of which Duvall was supposed to give you.

It better not be on some late evening in some shady place, because even though you still didn’t catch anyone following you it didn’t mean Rogers didn’t have an eye on you. 

To your surprise, and actual relief, Duval didn’t talk to you this time, just slipped you a piece of paper as he tossed out a napkin into a bin right next to which you were standing at the coffee shop. It contained the address of a small apothecary in a nearby neighborhood and an afternoon hour. 

That was very clever. A visit to such a place wasn’t anything unusual, even if most people bought their medicine at the big drugstores. And since it would still be daylight, it seemed even more harmless. 

Natalie agreed with you on that, telling you also about a bakery nearby into which you could also step in to keep the appearance of running errands. 

Both of you probably watched too many crime shows, but it came in handy. 

The lights in the apothecary were on when you went in, but it occurred to you that it was completely empty only when the door closed behind you. 

There were shelves stacked with medicines, some key-locked cases and an antique looking chest of drawers, which you suspected was more for decoration than to keep chemicals inside. 

There was no one behind the counter, however. Only the backdoor, leading to an additional room, was open. 

“Hello?” You called out, not moving from your spot near the door, in case you needed to run. 

There was some shuffling and then Duvall appeared in the backdoor. He smiled in relief, clearly fearing you would not come. He beckoned you over and you followed him through the short, narrow corridor into another room.

Spacious, but minimalist (to not say empty) compared to the front. There were two industrial tables and three chairs, some metal cabinets and neatly grouped apparatus. 

The man who leaned against one of the tables didn’t look like a chemist. 

Though you suspected a man like him may know a thing or ten about chemicals that blew up, judging by his close to military look. Well, since you never met an ATF agent in person, perhaps it was how they dressed. 

“Claude Batroc.” He introduced himself, with a smile that perhaps would be charming if not for a hint of dishonesty to it.

There was something about that man that instantly made you feel uneasy. 

Steve raised the hair on the back of your neck as well, but his type of danger was a sizzling black fog that engulfed you in its warm embrace and zapped your body with scary tingles. Batroc was the sound of screeching tires a second before a truck pummels into you.

Your instinct was telling you it’s best to squirm your way out of this, even though you haven’t yet heard the deal they offered. 

“Officer Duvall claims you’re able to help me,” you swallowed past your nervousness and looked at him expectantly. 

Like Natalie told you, you planned on making sure their promise was solid, before you jumped off any cliff.  

“I am.” He nodded, tilting his head to the side. “But that depends on what you can give me?”

You frowned. You assumed they knew how new and short your acquaintance with Rogers was; that you weren’t one of his inner circle people, who could provide a lot of intel. 

Foolishly maybe, but you thought being threatened and knowing of Felix’s demise was enough for them to consider you an important witness. There wasn’t anything else of heavy value that you could bring to the table. 

“Does he really have the stones?” came Batroc’s direct question.

Simple, but completely confusing for you. 

Out of all the things you could’ve expected them to ask you, that never came to mind. 

“I don’t know anything about any stones,”  you said slowly. Your frown deepened as your brain tried to work out, if maybe there were some jewels involved in the whole mess.

Was Howard hiding a diamond mine under the health center, or something? 

“There’s a rumor that Rogers is in possession of the Infinity Stones.” Duvall mentioned and you glanced his way over your shoulder. When he saw your face, he sighed in disappointment. It was clear you were unaware of what they were talking about. 

“They belonged to Thanos. A Greek mogul, who’d probably surpass Zeus himself if mythological riches and armies were comparable to the real ones. He was in possession of the six, most valued gems in the world. They are called the Infinity Stones.”

“Few years ago Thanos was found dead.” Batroc took over the story. “Along with most of his men. A job so clean, nothing pointed to a rampage. And nothing but the gems disappeared from his fortress. No organization ever boasted it to be their job. In time, Rogers’ name has been whispered as the one to do it, but he never confirmed. Never put them up for auction.”

You shook your head again. The only gems that came to your mind as you thought of Steve Rogers were the few that glinted in the dark, thick silver of his rings. 

You doubted anyone would put the most valuable jewels in simple rings, which he wore daily on full display for everyone to see. 

Then again, wouldn’t that be a perfect power move? A shiny middle finger and a warning to anyone who dared to think they could cross Rogers. 

“A different angle then.” Batroc changed the topic. Quite eagerly, too, as if the one he was moving onto was to him far more important than a few shiny rocks. 

“Why is he circling around the health center?” Something dark, greedy, flashed in his eyes. “He’s already got his people sitting all over it. Made an effort to reach you directly, not just work under your nose.”

When Batroc straightened and made a slow step forward, you stepped back. Duvall was standing in the doorway, blocking your escape route. You didn’t think you’d need one, but now your instincts screamed at you that there was something bad behind their intentions. 

“Rogers isn’t the kind of man to tell his secrets left and right.” You tried to stand your ground, despite your pulse quickening in fear.

You weren’t a type of person to limitlessly trust the law enforcement, but since they were supposed to be determined to build a case against Rogers they should treat you (as the potential help in successful operation) with less creepiness.

At the moment, Batroc’s stance and the way his eyes danced over your form were displaying a poor skill at charm and comfort. 

“Maybe you aren’t privy to his secrets.” Batroc shrugged, then bared his teeth in a sinister grin. “Or maybe you’re the one who actually holds the key to the project Rogers has been building, huh?” 

“Quentin said you keep yourself guarded, which is smart if you’re going toe to toe with the likes of us. But there’s not a can that can’t be opened…” 

Perhaps Batroc was an agent and maybe he was building a case against Rogers. His methods, however, were those of another gutter kingpin. He could be working for one, doing his official job and an extra one on the side. Or he could be one himself. 

You should’ve predicted that your hope for help would be false. 

You considered Rogers playing you, testing your loyalty, meanwhile another mobster scum was attempting to use you to screw with Steve. 

“We’re gonna play some interrogation game. With bonuses.” At Batroc’s words, you made another hasty step backwards, your back hitting the metal cabinets. 

A sudden wheezing sound and a loud thump of a falling body averted Batroc’s attention from you. 

Duvall fell down lifelessly, face first onto the floor. At least a second passed before you noticed a pool of red spilling around his head like a horrific halo. 

Then something heavy flew across the space, knocking Batroc’s gun from his hand as he reached for it. 

Still glued to the cabinets, shock freezing you in place, you watched as Steve Rogers strode inside in all of his dark glory. Shoulders so wide he barely fit in the entrance, muscles straining under the fabric of his clothes.  

He and Batroc clashed in the middle of the room - forearm blocking a punch, then a knee up to block a kick. 

Both of them were fast and strong, their fight a darker, less choreographed movie combat. For every of Batroc’s hits, Steve delivered two. Despite his bulk, Steve was exceptionally graceful in his technique. His opponent stumbled for a second, shaking his head to get rid of dizziness after one of Steve’s hooks. Meanwhile Rogers didn’t even wince when Batroc managed to split his lip open. 

It wasn’t a fight that would continue honorably, until one yielded and pledged fealty. 

After disarming Batrock when he pulled out a knife, Steve kicked him a few steps away then drew out his gun and shot him three times. Twice in the chest, once in the head. 

You flinched with each gunfire sound, but remained glued to the spot. 

Your gaze was on Rogers, you didn’t pay much attention to other men stepping inside. Steve spoke to them, but all the voices blurred into a dull sound as your hammering heartbeat threatened to pound away each vessel in your body. 

Only your sight remained focused. Your mind picked Rogers as the only solid point to anchor itself to.

Perhaps simply because he saved you. Once again. Even if it was to ensnare you himself. 

You pushed against the cabinets, trying to bury yourself into them when Steve dismissed his people with some short orders and started towards you, but they didn’t budge an inch. 

You weren’t attempting to escape him. You wanted to escape your growing need to wrap your arms around him and cling to the beast that spared your life as the only source of comfort at the moment. 

Yet, you knew the sickness that bubbled in your stomach wasn’t because you felt a twisted sense of safety now that Rogers was here, but because you witnessed people being killed, blood splattering; hell, you nearly were mauled. Again. 

The anxiety was skyrocketing. Or it would be, if not for the freezing shock still gripping you so tightly you felt like trapped in a glass box. It was an inner torment, procured by your own neurotransmitters and chemicals, that kept you on the edge of a malfunctioning fight or flight mechanism. 

Steve’s broad form caging you in, shutting away the bloodied world outside of his arms, was the first thing that pulled your focus back to reality of now and here. 

The feeling of a hot, metal muzzle touching the underside of your jaw snapped you out of the traumatic trance. 

He pointed his gun at you. The one with which he shot Batroc. 

A spike of adrenaline roused your body into full alertness. However, instead of logical terror and tearing up at the oncoming death, your brain paid attention to how delicate that pressure of a gun was.

How the warmth of it felt against your clammy skin; how refreshing was the metallic scent of it and how quickly it disappeared under the familiar now undertones of Rogers’ cologne. 

That gun held so much power. 

It ruthlessly disposed of a direct threat to you. An extension to the one who was behind saving you over and over (even if it was only, so he could be the one to torment you). Steve was living up to being your knight. Not in shining armor; not even one with good intentions. No, he was a black knight whose curse trapped you in a twisted realm. 

“Did he lay a hand on you?” pressing the muzzle to your chin, Steve moved your face left and right as his eyes scanned your state.

Swallowing hard, you shook your head. You were unable to form a single word, your throat constricted with all the sobs which you couldn’t force out of yourself. 

“Good.” Steve stated simply, without much genuine relief. 

“Your naughty stunt served me well.” He mused as he gently dragged the barrel of his gun across your cheek and down your neck; like he was caressing you with fingers, not a deadly weapon. 

“I wanted to get rid of Batroc for a while now, but he buried himself so deep it was hard to find him. I should’ve known he’d come up for something when he saw everyone else wanted it.” 

You weren’t paying enough attention to Steve’s words to decipher their full meaning, your senses were more interested in attuning to the trace of his gun on your skin. 

Holding your gaze captive with his icy blue eyes (so clear and unmarred with anger, despite what just happened), Steve kept moving the muzzle of his gun from one of your collar bones to the other. Slowly.

He had to read something in your body you weren’t yet aware of - a spark of curiosity ignited in his irises. 

You realized what it was a few seconds later as you felt your nipples stiffen. 

No!, a voice in your head whispered in utter disbelief. That current at the touch of Rogers’ gun was arousal. Underlaid with fear, but the kind that spiced the arousal higher, not switched it off.

It had to be the adrenaline still rushing, you thought. Your mind locked in an acute stress reaction, so that your body got confused; it didn’t know how to react, or which hormones to produce.      

That had to be the reason, the only explanation. Because you have never experienced anything like this. 

Rogers being despicable aside, you simply never entertained any kinky fantasies that included a gun, or any other weapon, or being overpowered so completely. That was never something you considered you might like. 

But as much as you were afraid of Steve in general, in this very moment you somehow knew he wouldn’t hurt you. Not in a bad way. 

And the gun pressed to your body was a substantial proof of his power. One that could touch you physically; do things to you… 

“My, my, Princess,” Steve leaned closer; whether to feel you shiver, or to shield the view of you from any prying eyes. “You’re just full of surprises.” 

He ran the gun down your body - between your breasts and down your quivering belly. When the still warm muzzle nudged the hem of your flowy skirt up, the haze of shock snapped.

“I-” you started, but your voice was weak and breathless, turning into a gasp as Steve drew the gun higher up your thigh. 

“I should go.” You squeaked out, but somehow couldn’t tear your eyes away from Steve’s. 

The only muscles you moved were those of your legs, which parted slightly as he slipped the gun over your clothed core. 

His free hand shot up to your neck; ringed fingers curling around your throat in a loose reminder of Steve’s dominance. Like the first time he’s done it, your breath hitched in your lungs, your pupils widened and your knees weakened. 

Then the solid barrel rubbed against your covered folds and your lips parted on a needy whimper.

While it shocked you, it absolutely delighted Steve. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Princess.” He cooed, dragging the gun back and forth over your pussy. “It’s okay to need to take the edge off. After the afternoon you’ve just had.”

“That’s not how-” a part of your brain tried to fight the building arousal. 

You closed your eyes, instantly opening them again at Steve’s warning hiss. In his eyes danced a glint of triumph - bright and cold like a blade pulled straight from the forgery. 

“Not like this.” You muttered, embarrassed with how eager your body was to experience the little thrill of being caressed with something that could so easily hurt you. 

Sex as a way of destressing wasn’t a foreign concept. Hell, an orgasm or two often helped you relieve some tension after dealing with daily obstacles and minor inconveniences. You’d even agree about needing one to burst you out of the bubble of shock you fell into today. 

But you could do that on your own, not by the hand of the handsome monster who forced himself into your life. And with your own toys - the normal, safe ones. 

It was both a relief and a shameful disappointment when Steve withdrew the gun. 

“Slide your hand into your panties, Princess,” he brushed the side of the gun against your arm, nudging your wrist.

Your fingers twitched, but you didn’t move. Your heart was still going like crazy, the beat of it pulsing in your clit. 

“Come on,” Steve traced his gun up your arm, then tapped your cheek with it, “be a good girl and put your hand in your panties.”

You knew it wasn’t a request, but a command. No matter if Steve’s voice melted into a soft, thick and sweet like chocolate tone. Slowly, you reached your hand beneath your skirt and under the waistband of your cotton and lace panties. 

“That’s it.” Steve brushed his lips over your temple, whispering dirty encouragement. “Now slide your fingers over your pussy. All the way.”

You did as he asked; trembling fingers dipping between your soft folds.

“Now show them to me.” He pulled back slightly.

You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole to cut your shame short, as you lifted your hand up for Steve to see. 

Your fingers were sticky with your wetness, a pearly string of slick stretching between them. 

“Seems to me that’s exactly how you need it, Princess.” Steve smirked; icy blue of his irises heating into white flame.

A retort was forming on your tongue, but died a second later. When Steve’s mouth closed around your digits and he sucked them clean. 

His tongue lavished the crease between your fingers, teasing your rotten mind with a reflection of where else on your body he could use that tongue. Suction of his mouth wasn’t gentle, strumming down your nerves with vibration from his pleased hum. He pulled off, with a lewd swipe of his tongue.

For a millisecond, your gazes locked in quiet suspension. 

A blink of an eye and then the gun was back beneath your skirt, while Steve’s lips were capturing yours in a filthy demand. He pushed the barrel past the fabric of your panties this time, hard metal grazing your delicate parts. His dark chuckle in response to your moan reverberated on your lips. 

The fingers curled around your neck tightened slightly, his thumb pressing over your carotid, but not enough to cut off your air. Not yet, at least.

Stars danced in the corners of your vision, heightened pleasure mixed with delicious trepidation filling your body with bubbles of ecstasy unknown to you until now. 

Steve angled his gun so that it spread your folds, rubbing your clit and teasing your entrance with each slide. Your hips rocked back eagerly. When he pushed a little deeper, pressing the muzzle into your opening, you almost seized. 

One of your hands flew to Steve’s forearm, holding onto the wrist of his hand which was choking you. The other fisted his shirt near the collar. You let out a startled cry that turned from appalled to needy. 

“Give it up, Princess,” Steve teased your bottom lip with his tongue, all the while nudging the muzzle into your cunt. 

Muscles in your legs tensed, your eyes shimmered with tears that weren’t of sadness or pain. You were ashamed of your reaction to the filthy debauchery, but you wanted, needed it so badly.

“I’m gonna have you cum for me anyway, so just let go.” 

That demand was sharper. Steve’s fingers on your throat tightened, cutting off the flow of air. At the same time, he pushed the gun deeper. Merely an inch or two slipped inside, but it was enough to feel your pussy stretch around it. 

Your climax was an outburst with sharp edges, each tremor feeling like an electric current. Your cries sounded choked, though Steve released his hold on your neck enough for the air to flow easily into your lungs. 

The gun wasn’t inside you anymore, but he kept moving it harshly against your clit, prolonging your orgasm to a point of painful throb that threatened to build into another humiliation if he continued longer. 

If he slid the gun back, or his cock into your quivering cunt, you’d probably lose your conscience. While cumming all over him again. 

Finally, Steve eased the pressure. He occupied your lips with sensual kisses, slow and lingering, and tongue dipping indecently into your mouth. The gun withdrew from your panties, the fabric clinging to your drenched pussy in an embarrassingly uncomfortable way. 

Your arms fell to your sides when Steve let go of your neck and straightened. He wiped his gun, covered with your slick, in your skirt, then secured it back in the holster at his side.

“There now. Isn’t it better?” You weren’t certain if he was mocking you, or if it was a pure cocky smugness. 

You were gaping at him, your breath still ragged. Your legs were shaking and your heart was hammering, but there was warmth and life and a vivid feeling of anger resurfacing. No longer the cold stupor of shock and fear.

No, Steve beckoned your brain back to reality. After short circuiting it. 

“Better?” You hissed, clenching your hands into fists. “You pointed a gun at me!” 

“And you creamed all over it, Princess.” Steve’s knowing smirk added to your shame. 

“You shot someone!” You derailed, unable (and unwanting) to unpack the mess of your body’s reaction to being fucked with a gun. 

“Just straight up shot them. In broad daylight!” It was now reaching your mind that all the terrors and dirty deeds, which have happened in the past half an hour, didn’t take place in the deep darkness of the night. It was a sunny afternoon, with people walking the streets just outside the front door of an ordinary apothecary. 

“They would’ve hurt you,” came Steve’s remorseless reply. 

Simple and direct, spoken in a warning growl.

“Nobody hurts what’s mine.”   

There was nothing romantic about it, even if your post-orgasmic heart flowed with bonding oxytocin. 

It was a dark claim, making you into Steve’s possession. His protection of you came only from the need to have his pride untouched - if anyone managed to steal or hurt his bride, it weakened Steve’s ruthless reputation. 

“Now let’s get you out of here, so my cleaning team can swipe in.” Steve motioned at you to follow him as he moved toward the exit. 

Your feet were frozen to the spot. There was a dead body of a man between you and the door; the pool of blood inches away from your toes. You definitely wanted to get out of there, but you couldn’t simply make yourself jump over someone’s corpse. 

Steve’s impatient sigh was motivating - you did not want to get on his nerves too much. But your body wasn’t listening to any of your commands. As it didn’t listen to you when you tried to fight off the arousal earlier.

Suddenly, you were picked up. 

Steve hoisted you up easily, throwing you over his shoulder. He carried you over Duvall’s dead body and through the narrow corridor, ignoring your outraged squeak.  

“All that blood and death, you really need to focus on lighter things from now on.” He said conversationally, tone light as if aforementioned gore was just a chore from which one needed to take a break. 

“For a while, at least-” Steve continued, as he carried you out the front- “Wedding planning should help with that.”

“No! I don’t want it!” You protested, kicking your legs. 

With what just happened, you couldn’t imagine forcing yourself to organize a fucking wedding. One you didn’t want in the first place. You couldn’t imagine going back to your routine, daily life at all. 

You just weren’t sure if it was the deaths you witnessed that changed your life forever, or the wrong kind of desire that Steve brought out of you. 

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t. But you will.” He put you down on your feet once you were outside. 

Steve cupped your chin, crushing it painfully between his thumb and forefinger, and tilted your face up.

“We both know you will be a good girl for me, Princess.”

[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]

Indecent Proposal masterlist

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of illegal activities/mafia business/murder, violence, blood, strong reader, arranged relationship, wish for children, shady deals, shitty boyfriend, possible smut in future chapters (including mlm), polyamory, pansexuality, more to be added

A/N: I don't have enough ongoing series. So...suffer with me...

Indecent Proposal (1)

Indecent Proposal (2)

Indecent Proposal (3)

Indecent Proposal (4)

Indecent Proposal (5)

Indecent Proposal (6)

Indecent Proposal (7)

Indecent Proposal (8)💦

Indecent Proposal (8.2) 💦

Indecent Proposal (9) 💦

Indecent Proposal (9.2)

Indecent Proposal (10) 💦

Indecent Proposal (11) 💦

Indecent Proposal (12)

Indecent Proposal (12.2)

Indecent Proposal (13)

Indecent Proposal (14)

Indecent Proposal (15)

Indecent Proposal (15.2)

Indecent Proposal (16)

Indecent Proposal (17)

Indecent Proposal (17.2)

Indecent Proposal (18)

Indecent Proposal (18.2)

Indecent Proposal (19)

Indecent Proposal (20)

Indecent Proposal (21)

Indecent Proposal (22)

Indecent Proposal (23)

Indecent Proposal (24)

Indecent Proposal (24.2)

Indecent Proposal (25) FIN

[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.

[ramp-it-up]

I WONDER

Paring: Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Reader (Ambrosia)

Word count: 3.4 K.

Summary: You are fed up with the secrets and lies. Now you have a secret of your own. And a decision to make.

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, Lil bit of ANGST. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Angst, jealousy, Mob secrets, implied reproductive choice, sort of an ultimatum, reader dons her freakum dress, fingering, semi public sex act, p in v, cream pie, oral (both receiving) breast worship, mid-sex revelation, size kink, breeding kink.

A/N: Based on this ask. This is the third Mob Boss! Steve Fic that comes after All I Want in the This Thing of Ours AU. Also Based on my Candy Hearts Valentine Prompt List found Here. Hope you like it @kenequa​ 💕

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

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

Your regular noonday customer Tasha eyed your new stock boys and leaned over to ask you a question.

“That one is Robbie, and you should ask. He’s a sweet guy.”

You replied as if it were no big deal, making your decision at that moment. You turned your head and glanced at the tall blonde.

“That one is Steve, and he is single as a pringle.”

You smiled at her, ignoring the footsteps behind you as you closed the register.

“So now I’m single?”

You felt his hot breath on your neck and your nipples pebbled as he growled into your ear. Damn him.

“Steven. We’ve had this conversation. I can’t be in a relationship with someone who continually lies to me and does things behind my back.”

Steve looked down and his pants got tight at this view of your ass.

“Believe me Ambrosia. I’d love to do things behind your back. And I think you would too. If you would only let me…”

Steve’s broken voice almost broke you, but you took a deep breath and turned around. You gasped at the sight of his face, those lips, and the sense of his smell so close to you. You wanted him, but you couldn’t continue this way.

“Breathe, Baby.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at the heady feeling of lust surrounding you two and you considered relenting. You leaned toward him, wanting to just fall into his arms.

Steve silently cheered inside; you were beginning to break. You’d even shut him out on Valentine’s Day. A month and a half of never letting up the pressure was beginning to pay off.

Or so he thought.

You wouldn’t let Steve fuck you to shut you up. Not again. So you did just what he told you and breathed deeply, lifting your head.

Steve knew that glint in your eye.

“First, you seduced me without telling me that you are one of the most powerful mobsters in New York, then you bought my store without letting me know? You own me now? What else don’t I know about you?”

Steve ran his hand through his hair and backed up.

“You know all you need to know, Ambrosia. I love you.”

You stared hard at him, unrelenting. He continued.

“Listen, everything I do is to protect you. I…”

The bell rang above the door and you turned around to greet the customer. Steve turned to stare at the discounted Valentine’s candy. Then he got an idea.

He grabbed a bag and turned around to the sight of a tall man smiling down at you.

And you had the nerve to smile back at him!

He cleared his throat.

You looked over your shoulder at him. He glowered at you and stalked out.

“Stay here, Robbie. I need to handle some things.”

When you closed the store that Saturday night, you sat on your couch thinking about your relationship. Ever since Christmas morning when you realized what Steve had done and you’d flipped your lid, he’d endured your frosty demeanor.

You felt trapped, and most of all, scared. But you didn’t express that like an adult, you just gave him the cold shoulder. Maybe he finally got the message and moved on.

You fell asleep, full of angst and worry at the situation and awakened at the knock on the door. When you opened it, you greeted a tired looking Steve Rogers with a bag of what smelled like Thai food.

“Can I come in?”

You nodded, stepped back, and walked back over to the couch as Steve entered your apartment and shut the door.

You opened your mouth to say something but Steve raised his hand.

“Just… hear me out, Ambrosia. Today I understood for the first time what you mean. All I’ve done is take from you.”

You shook your head and he raised his hand again.

“I fell in love with you almost the first time I came in here. So I kept coming back, and buying you gifts, and when I asked you out without telling you the truth I took away your choice about whether to date a guy like me. And that was wrong.”

Your heart broke a little bit as he spoke. Steve looked like his heart was breaking too.

“When I saw how you struggle to pay your rent, I bought the mortgage without telling you, and that was wrong. When I saw that guy flirting with you, after I thought briefly about taking his life, I realize that I took your chance for a normal life.”

Your heart started beating faster as you realized what this was.

“Steve…”

“Please let me finish.”

Steve took a deep breath and walked over to the table.

“I’m here to give you some things. Things that you absolutely cannot give back. First, food.”

Your stomach was growling. Steve knew you so well. When you were upset, you didn’t push yourself to eat.

You came and sat down to a heaping plate of food. Steve sat across from you.

“Next comes the story of me and…this thing of ours.”

Steve nodded at your plate because you stopped mid-chew and your eyes got wide.

“You stop eating, I stop talking.”

Steve took a bite and watched you eat, sadness and love in his eyes.

“It started when we were kids. Bucky and I ran the streets of Brooklyn and fell in with this little smartass punk, Brock Rumlow. He was just a kid then. A kid who had a plan to make us the most feared mobsters in the city. He introduced us to Sam.”

You were astonished that Steve was opening up and at the name Rumlow. Everyone knew they were mortal enemies. You made sure to eat so you could hear how everything got to this point.

“I was a fucking runt,” Steve laughed and shook his head. “But they called me Cap ‘cause I was always the first one into a fight…”

An hour and a half later, you were on the couch, enraptured.

“.... and now, Bucky is working his way back to health, getting used to a new way of life. Sam is truly still caught in the middle. And me… well, I have fucked up the one love of my life.”

“Steve… “

He stood up and went back over to the table. He produced a manilla envelope. When it was in your hands, he nodded and you opened it. You dropped it on your lap, hand over your mouth when you saw the contents.

“It’s the deed to your store. I wasn’t trying to own you, or to control you, Ambrosia. I was only trying to protect you. From my life. But I realize now that you need full disclosure. And choice.”

He took you in looking up at him like that.

“God, I love you. You are the woman of my dreams, tough, smart, beautiful. But I want you to have free will.”

“What do you mean?”

Steve stood up and walked to the door. You followed.

“I did some digging today. The only people that know about us are you, me, Bucky, Sam, and Robbie. I thought I was protecting you, but I was just putting you in a cage. This was my escape from that world.”

Steve looked around the small apartment that was your home.

“But I can’t escape. Not just yet. And you’ll be okay if I never come here again.”

Your heart dropped as he let that sink in.

“You are right. If we are to be together, you would have to come into my world. And I don’t know if you are ready for that yet, Ambrosia.”

You were spiraling as Steve opened the door and turned around, leaning on the door frame.

“One more thing.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pink box.

“Happy Belated Valentine’s Day.”

You walked close to him to take the box, staring down at it in his hands. You couldn’t look at him. But he solved that problem by tipping your head up by your chin.

Steve kissed you sweetly, but his tongue swept into your mouth, savoring you as if for the last time. He pulled away, and then leaned back in for another peck.

He stood up, whispered a gruff, “Goodbye, Ambrosia,” and then disappeared out of your life.

You blinked back your flow of tears and looked down at the box in your hands. You opened it, and as you tipped the box, numerous white candies spilled out onto the floor.

You bent down to pick them up.

They all read, I WONDER.

You sat on your couch, the sugary sweets melting with the warmth of your hand. You ran the gamut of emotions: sadness, fear, then anger and frustration.

You thought you’d made the correct decision, but now you realized you had not.

Around one am, Steve was sitting in the VIP of Sam’s club, SamWells, being enveloped by the beat of the music. He couldn’t be alone right now, or he’d either go running back to your place or slip into oblivion up at his.

He didn’t need to think anymore.

Sam had been busting his balls all night, at his sour look, at the fact that he’d been nursing one drink for two hours, anything to get a rise out of him. Steve just stayed silent and sipped his drink, the ice melting slowly.

Suddenly, Sam perked up.

“I think that hottie over there wants you buddy, need to check her out.”

Steve snorted and finally ordered another drink, not looking in the direction Sam indicated.

“Too soon, Sam. I’m not in the mood.”

Sam’s eyes were focused behind Steve.

“I don’t know, Cap. This one seems pretty dope. I think she’s just your type.”

“Sam, I…”

You walked around the booth as Robbie let you into the VIP area. Steve’s mouth dropped open and took you in from head to toe. You were wearing a form fitting black dress and heels. Steve couldn’t stop looking. Then Sam whistled.

“Looking good, Ambrosia!”

Sam stood up and gave you a hug, then pulled back to admire you. Steve did too. You looked amazing.

You tugged at the dress, a little uncomfortable.

“I think it’s too tight. It was at the back of my closet. I wore it once, 10 pounds ago…”

“No. No, no. I think it fits just right. Juuust right. And those 10 pounds seem to be in just the right places.”

Sam twirled you and Steve stood up just as you turned to face him. You laughed and looked up at him, breathless.

He seemed a little jealous. It was hot.

“Wanna continue our conversation, Steve?”

Steve stared down at you, his body feeling one way, wanting to bend you over the booth, but mind wary of everything.

Sam cleared his throat as Steve scanned the club.

“I’ve got something to do over there.”

Neither of you acknowledged his departure, but Steve waved his arm to the booth and you slid into the leather bound seat that smelled like the two friend’s cologne.

“What are you doing here?”

Steve asked the question tersely, still checking the club to see who was there.

“This is dangerous, coming around here like this.”

You scooted closer to him, and eyed him up and down. He had changed into a multicolored polo and wore sunglasses, even though he was inside a club at night. His biceps popped with every move and the tense look on his face made you want to relax him. Hard.

You reached up and took his sunglasses off, glad to be able to look him in the eye.

“That’s funny. I feel super safe right now.”

You put your hand on his thigh, and his muscles tensed.

“Ambrosia. This is nothing to play with.”

Steve looked at you, his eyes falling to your cleavage and licked his lips.

Your hand went up further, and touched the tip of his dick through his pants. He was getting hard.

“Believe me Steve. I would love to play with things, and I think you would too, if you would only let me…”

You started stroking him outside of his pants and he drew in a harsh breath.

“Breathe, Baby.”

Steve did, then he took your hand from his cock and placed both of yours in your lap and held them there.

“What exactly are you here for, Ambrosia?”

You sat back, serious now.

“I’m here for you, Steve. I thought long and hard after you left. I love you.”

“Baby, I…”

“My turn.”

You shook your head and smiled as Steve looked down and started stroking your hand with his thumbs.

“I was thinking that we’re both being a little extra. I didn’t have to be so dramatic after Christmas. And I love that you told me your story, but you didn’t have to. You didn’t have to buy the store, and you certainly didn’t have to give me the deed. And I hate that you have to wonder…”

Steve opened and closed his mouth, letting you continue.

“I know. You are wondering what it would be like if I embraced all of you. And I think I’m ready to.”

Steve’s head snapped up and his eyes were wild.

“You can’t think, Ambrosia. You must know. Because there is no going back. I, and my crew will stop at nothing to protect you. You would be part of the family and that means a blood oath. If you want to love me, you gotta accept me. And the things I do. I’m trying to give you an out.”

You stared at Steve for a long time.

“I don’t want an out. I want you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Surer than sure.”

You smiled as you leaned in for a kiss. Steve stared at you hesitant, scared of what this would mean. When you cocked your head at him and smiled is when he decided.

Steve grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you to him, answering your smile with a passionate press of his mouth on yours. He pulled back, and reached for your hips, pulling you onto his leg.

You put your arms around his neck as you peppered his face and head with kisses as Steve felt you up and sucked hickeys onto your neck and cleavage. His hand was at the hem of your dress and moving north as he spoke into your skin.

“…Coming in here dressed like this. Gonna be the death of me. I gotta have you, it’s been too long.”

“Oh.” You breathed into his hair. “I came to get fucked tonight.”

“Holy fuck.”

Steve slapped your thighs.

“Then why are these legs still closed?”

You opened your legs and let his hand into the damp warmth of your inner thighs. He grabbed you at your apex so that you were sitting on his leg and his fingers, his thumb brushing your naked, weeping slit and delving into you. He looked up into your half closed eyes.

“Gotdamn, Ambrosia. You weren’t lying. Want me to fuck you right here?”

Your hand was at the hair on the back of his head now, pulling as he swirled his thumb around your plucky clit. You leaned your head down on his shoulder and whimpered, not answering his question.

Steve continued his assault on your needy pussy until he pulled a shaky, whimpering orgasm from you. It was not enough.

“It’s time you came up to my place.”

You stood up, a little shaky and more so as Steve made you suck his thumb.

“I’d love to see it.”

Steve didn’t say that he wanted more than just for you to see it. He led you over to a wall at the far end of the club, pulling out a remote. Part of the wall slid open to reveal an elevator door which he ushered you into.

“Each of us, Sam, Bucky, and I have our own elevators that go directly to our places. Totally private.”

“Interesting.”

You were on the opposite wall from him as he watched you possessively with his hand in his pocket. The ride seemed to slow down.

“Touch yourself.”

“Why?”

“Because if I touch you, I will fuck you in this elevator and I’m trying to make it to my bed.”

There was a long pause as you each listened to each other breathing.

“And you shouldn’t be untouched, Ambrosia.”

You put your hands in your hair and moved them down around your neck, trailing your cleavage.

Steve leaned back against the wall, his eyes blue fire as your hands roamed your own body and the places he wanted to be. He palmed himself over his pants and you whimpered.

“Don’t worry. You’re gonna get this dick.”

You started pulling your nipples through the material of your dress and Steve opened his mouth to lick his lips.

“They look so fucking big and beautiful. I’m gonna cum all over them.”

You were reaching for the hem of your dress when the doors opened. Steve came for you and you jumped up onto him, his hands holding you up by your ass as he propelled you through a dark and richly appointed space until your back hit a door.

“I’ll give you a proper tour when we come up for air.”

You chuckled.

“So I’ll never get a tour?”

Steve laughed too.

“You may be right.”

He reached for the knob and soon you were on your back on the softest king sized bed you’d ever experienced.

Steve was tearing off his clothes as you pulled your dress over your head. Steve beat you to your heels, unbuckling them and kissing your feet up to your calves. He pushed your legs apart so that he could see you fully. His hand traced your lips and he smiled.

“My sweet petals. Long time no see.”

“Are you… are you talking to my pussy?”

You huffed, indignant.

“I’m talking to MY pussy. Private conversation. I guess I’ll just have to whisper.”

Steve glided up your apex and made out with your cunt like it was going out of style. He suckled your clit gently at first, then with more pressure as he came up and inserted two fingers inside you.

“Still so so tight…”

He scissored his fingers as he pulled another orgasm from you, stroking his cock as your desperate cries reached his ears.

“Gotta get you ready for me.”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he kneeled up and stroked his cock, lining it up at your soaked opening.

You keened as he pushed his thick tip inside you, your wetness making the most deliciously pornographic sounds, along with his outright moans for you as you squeezed him.

Your mouth opened at the sting of his size, but relished the full feeling. You loved being full of Steve Rogers

“Ambrosia, Ambrosia, Ambrosia….shittttt.”

When he started moving, the slap, slick, slap, slick sound made his eyes roll back.

“Who got you so wet, Ambrosia? So wet and so tight. Tell me.”

You whimpered your way through your explanation as he started fucking you harder.

“Hnnnnnhhhh. You, Steve. Always you. Only you.”

You were grabbing your own bouncing breasts absentmindedly and it made Steve pulse inside you.

“Fuck yes, show me those tits, point them at me because I’m… uggghhh.”

Steve sped up again. He was watching your erect nipples and areola bounce as you held them up for him to witness the bounteous beauty of them being knocked up to your face by his thrusts.

“So fucking beautiful. I’m gonna….Fucckkkkkkk!”

Steve thought he would black out at the image you just presented him. But he just fucked you harder, faster, better.

“Cum on me cum in my mouth cum on my tits Stevie….”

“Oh my goddddd.”

Steve pulled out and shot pearlescent white cum on your chest and in your mouth. You grabbed his softening dick and he rolled over on his back as you cleaned him up, sucking him dry.

“That little hot mouth of yours, Ambrosia. Fuck.”

You smiled and started stroking him, your breasts still covered in cum. As he watched you, you watched his cock come back to life.

“Holy Shit, Ambrosia.”

Steve grabbed you and turned around, pressing your head into the bed so that you gave him the arch he was looking for. He slid into you from behind, back into heaven.

“You make me feel like I could do this all fucking night, Ambrosia…fuck.”

Steve grabbed your arm and twisted it behind your back as he pounded you and you begged him.

“Please please please cum inside me Steve, give it to me.”

Steve grunted.

“You saying you want my baby inside you?”

You moaned.

“It already is, Daddy.”

Steve pulled you up by your hair. He stopped because he didn’t quite hear what you’d said.”

“What did you say?”

“I said. I already have your baby inside me, Daddy.”

Steve pulled out of you and then held your face in his hands.

“How?”

You laughed at him.

“What do you mean, how?”

“I mean, when?”

“Probably Christmas. The last time we…I took a test two weeks ago. I’m probably about six weeks along.”

“Were you going to tell me?”

Steve sat back on his haunches, his erection fading.

“I’m telling you now. Just like you told me over six months after you started pursuing me about your situation.”

You reached for his head and made him look you in the eye.

“I thought I’d made the right choice, to cut ties and… well, when you left me, left us tonight I realized what I truly wanted. I want you. And I want this baby. I choose you to be the father of my child.”

You kissed Steve and he took you down to the bed.

“Do you want this?”

Fear bloomed inside you as Steve’s hand slid down your torso to your belly. He looked back up at you, eyes shining.

“Yes! Please…please have my baby Ambrosia. I promise I’ll never let anyone hurt you. Including me.”

“Okay.”

Steve kissed your belly and then pulled you under him to kiss your lips as you wrapped your legs around him and reached between you to stroke him back to life.

“Fuck, mama. What are you doing to me?”

Steve rutted into your hand.

“You were about to blow my back out Daddy. Get to it.”

You spit into your hand to lubricate him better and you looked like a vixen as he fell under your spell.

“Ugh! So nasty...”

You twisted so that you were again as up underneath him and wiggled your ass against his now hard length again.

You lifted your hips and Steve slid inside you, your warm wetness clenching his wide girth again.

“Fuckkkk, Stevie.”

The way you whimpered for him made Steve pushed your head back down. He started delivering the back shots immaculately, slowly, deep and hard, watched your cream froth around him, the vision of where you two were connecting making him even harder.

Then, he sped up and spilled everything inside you as you screamed for it, cumming around him and milking him for all that he was worth.

When you opened your eyes, Steve was smiling at you.

“What?”

“I’m just so happy.”

“Happy that I came here, or happy that we came. Or happy about little Stevie?”

He chuckled, “Little Stevie Hunh?”

He kissed you again.

“All three.”

Steve stood up and grabbed your hand.

He grabbed your neck and kissed you until you were breathless.

“Sounds like a plan, Mr. Rogers.”

Steve smiled at you and refrained from calling you Mrs. Rogers in return.

That was a title for another day.