#music memory lane. turn on the radio & it played at least twice a day. playing faintly on some stall in the mall. it was crazy. not even | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hellomissmabel · 8 years ago

Text

Manhattan Mistress part 1

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader, Steve x reader, Tony x reader and OC!Casey (daughter of Y/N and Tony)

Summary: It’s election season and things are about to get heated. Y/N Rogers, previously Y/N Stark, is the daughter of the late mob boss of Brooklyn. She took over when her father died and runs the streets with a firm hand, although no one knows it’s her pulling the strings. Money must roll, especially when it comes from her ex-husband Tony Stark. Tony secretly endorses Steve Rogers’ campaign, currently running for alderman and seemingly oblivious to what happens behind the scenes of his so-called happy marriage. But then Bucky, Y/N’s oldest friend, shows up to win her back and decides to stir things up a little.

Word count: 3.236

Warnings: the reader doesn’t shy away from foul language and talk of sex, murder and infidelity.

A/N: my fingers have been itching to write this story! It’s much, so much darker than what I usually write. Dedicated to my favourite mob AU writer @caplanbuckybarnes. Congratulations on the 1.3k followers! Enjoy sweetie!

“I’m so happy you could make it. She’s been looking forward to spending some time with her daddy the entire week, she never stopped talking about it.”

Tony laughs lightly, his brown eyes lightening up as he scoops Casey up in his arms. He twirls her around before hoisting her over his shoulder, her beautiful curls dangling wildly in the air as her shrill giggles fill the atmosphere with so much glee you can’t help but break into a bright smile, shaking your head at their silly antics. She takes after Tony in so many ways, from her dark hair and piercing brown eyes to her analytical take on the world and even her sassy character. She’s still so young and yet it’s already as clear as day that Casey Stark is in fact her father’s daughter. At least she has inherited some of her mother’s quirks.

“Daddy has missed his favourite girls so much! You have no idea,” Tony exclaims heartily and you suppress a haughty laugh. There used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of you and vice versa. You love each other too much for your own good, not to mention you’re considerably younger than him, the source of many teasing remarks from certain enemies and even a couple friends although none of them have lived to see another day. But watching Tony pepper her tiny face with feather-light kisses, it’s so refreshing and it does things to your heart you wouldn’t believe. It flutters even higher as he makes these little and utterly adorable noises causing another fit of giggles to erupt from his daughter’s lips.

“My beautiful baby girl,” he purrs in a ridiculous voice, his fingers excitedly attacking Casey and engaging her in a tickle fight. “My beautiful baby girl and her insanely gorgeous mother.” He then looks up at you expectantly, giving you that look he knows will win you over, a look of melted gold that makes you weak in the knees. The only thing left to do now is flash his dazzling trophy smile and you’re a goner for sure. Fortunately he doesn’t but you can sense there’s an urgent question brimming his lips.

“What do you want, Tony?,” you sigh dramatically and he shoots you a knowing smile. Planting a chaste kiss on his temple, you sit down at the breakfast table, nibbling on a strawberry dipped in chocolate sauce before indulging yourself with a glass of fresh orange juice.

“Mind if I keep her for the weekend?,” he inquires, ruffling Casey’s hair whilst taking a seat opposite of you, pulling your daughter in his lap and bouncing her on his knee, her miniature fingers playing with his indigo tie. “I also thought that maybe we could host her birthday party at my place. She can have as many friends over as she likes and you don’t have to worry about the expenses, I’ll take care of everything for you. Unless you and Steve have already made plans, I don’t mean to impose.”

You shake your head, chuckling softly. “No, we didn’t make any plans yet, Tony. Steve’s busy running a campaign, as you are well aware of,” you say matter-of-factly, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of your ex-husband joking around with your daughter just like old times. A lot has changed since you ended your toxic relationship and things have definitely changed for the better. No more throwing mud or making a snarky comment about something trivial, you can finally breathe again.

“Tony, you were a lousy husband but believe me when I say, and I’m only going to say this once, you are an amazing father. I’ll come pick her up on Monday, you two have fun.”

You gently bump Casey’s nose with your finger and allow Tony to take your hand in his, softly grazing his lips over your knuckles, gingerly placing a kiss as his neatly groomed scruff tickles your alabaster skin. He momentarily closes his eyes. “I love you, Y/N,” he mutters against your skin before letting go of your hand and tenderly pecking Casey’s cheek who is still completely engulfed by his presence.

“I know you do, Tony,” you reply quietly, your eyes staring at the ground below. “Believe me, I know.”

The drive towards the Rogers’ mansion isn’t long and the music on the radio doesn’t seem to please you, blaming the January cold for your sudden change in mood. You can’t seem to shake the thoughts of Tony and Casey and about how happy they were together. It makes you wonder why on earth you ever got a divorce before memories of lonely days and even lonelier nights start flooding your eyes with stinging tears and you remember quite clearly why you were so eager to sign those divorce papers. Not to mention all the bruises when conversation got a little heated.

You were eighteen and fresh out of high school when your boyfriend Bucky Barnes skipped town after your late father threatened to kill him if he ever laid a finger on you again. He didn’t like the idea of his Manhattan princess fooling around with an errant boy from Brooklyn, working a couple side jobs for your dad so he could provide for a living since both his parents died when he was younger. If your old man had only known it would drive you straight into the arms of Tony Stark, his right hand and most valued business partner, he would’ve thought twice before meddling with your love life.

You were way too young and unprepared to get hitched let alone be a mother. But if it hadn’t been for your beautiful daughter Casey, the apple of your eye, to keep you company on your darkest of days, you would have felt even more isolated. She’s also the only reason why you decided to continue the legacy of the mob life and why you stayed with Tony for as long as you have.

There’s not a single thing happening in this city that you don’t know about and there’s not a single thing you’re not involved in, although you stay clear from trafficking drugs and girls, it’s despicable and right up Loki Laufeyson’s lane. Too much blood had been shed on his behalf until your father forced his hand, killed his mother and made him sign a peace treaty. Oh, if he only knew it’s the Manhattan mistress calling the shots in Brooklyn and that he’s been your bitch all this time, he’d probably make a beeline for the executioner.

Truth is, no one except for your inner circle knows the truth. Ever since your father died, rumours about his successor have been keeping his associates too busy for them to notice his prissy offspring has taken matters back into her own hands. The new mob king could really be anyone at this point but that doesn’t mean business can’t run as smoothly as it did before his decease. You’d like to keep everyone in the dark for as long as possible, not out of fear for losing their trust or respect but out of pure spite. These men are just a bunch of stuck-up, old-fashioned bastards with a stick up their ass and nothing but red on their ledger. They always used to look down on you and pity your father, a son would have been a much more convenient turn of events and yet here you are, screwing everyone over as we speak.

Even your Stevie doesn’t know what his dear wife is up to when he’s busy charming the audience with another inspiring speech and his winning attitude. You’d rather not involve your beloved husband in all the nitty gritty stuff that overshadows most of your life, he’s just too much of a soft-boiled egg to be able to handle the shit going down on the street. Besides, it would most definitely cost him his career and you your marriage because nothing good ever comes from the mob life, you learned that the hard way.

Grimacing as you pull up the driveway and get out of your car, you are greeted by Steve’s four-legged, furry friend Dodger and his new companion Trixie, the puppy Steve got Casey for Christmas. Once inside, you head straight for the kitchen and open up a bottle of your favourite wine.

“A little early for alcohol, isn’t it?,” Nat calls out from behind the grand piano in her typical sultry voice. She decided to grace you with an impromptu visit and you smirk at her, offering her a glass as well which she gladly accepts.

“I just dropped Casey off at Tony’s place,” you explain, taking a quick sip from the red liquid, revelling in the sensation of it caressing your throat with a pleasurable burn, the rich aftertaste lingering in your mouth and invading your senses with its delicious familiarity. You still have no clue how you survived 9 freaking months of pregnancy without even a single drop of your favourite liquid.

“Fair enough. She still looks at him like he hung the moon?”

You nod and Nat simply shrugs in reply. No further words are exchanged as you both sit at the kitchen island, staring at the screens of your cell phone light up with new messages and finishing your drinks in silence, occasionally giving each other a sideway glance.

“You texting dear Stevie?,” Nat asks mischievously as she wiggles her eyebrows at you suggestively. “The sex still mind-blowing or has our favourite politician been hit by a dry spell as of late?”

Word got around fast and it would be unwise to trick your best friend into believing the brick in your stomach that’s been dragging you down for the past two months never even existed. Ever since your childhood sweetheart Bucky returned to the land of the living, you have been living the life of a refugee. Conveniently enough he took up a job as Steve’s bodyguard, accompanying him on all his official visits until a couple of street rats tried to harass you on your way from a (shady) business meeting. Steve didn’t take it too kindly even though you tried to brush if off as a one-time misfortune. The next morning he decided Bucky would be of more use protecting you and he has been reassigned to you ever since.

Of course Steve is aware of your shared history but that doesn’t make him think of Bucky any less. They seem to get along just fine, as if they’ve known each other for ages already, which feeds your concern all the more. But there’s no need to worry excessively, at least not yet.

“Don’t pry, Nat, we have a healthy sex life. There’s something extremely arousing about that clean-shaven poster boy exterior and it feels just so good to sit on that self-righteous face of his you have no idea,” you admit before casually drawing a generous amount of wine.

She snorts at this, obviously amused by your statement. “Damn, Y/N, feeling blunt are we? I remember a time where you went at it like a pair of sex-crazy rabbits and knowing Tony, I believe he was rarely dressed for the occasion, if you know what I mean,” she retorts with a cheeky grin, sarcasm lacing her words sweet as honey but the sour undertone does not escape your attentive ears.

“And now I have a wonderful daughter. Nat, I know where this is coming from. I love Casey and I love Steve,” you reassure as her eyes squint in suspicion, shooting you a wary smile, “I’m not going to fuck up a long-term relationship, again.”

“I’m sorry,” she concedes with a deep sigh, reaching across the table to take your hand in hers. She gives it a gently squeeze before speaking again, this time more cautiously. “But be honest with me here, Y/N, I need to know. Do you have anything to do with Sharon’s disappearance?”

The question takes you completely by surprise, it is as if she’s taken a knife from your kitchen drawer and stabbed you in the back while you weren’t paying attention. “Why do you ask me?,” you spit out, venom fighting its way towards the tip of your tongue.

“She’s dead, Y/N, that’s why I’m asking you. Clint told me so and I have no reason to doubt him. If he tells me she’s dead, she’s dead. I take his word for it.”

“I can’t say that I have.” Your jaw is set tight, your gaze as sharp as a razor, cutting through her stony exterior. For a minute, her mask of indifference slowly slips from her striking features.

“So it is true, I can see it in your eyes,” she hisses back at you. “I didn’t think you had it in you. Bucky took care of it, I presume? He would give his life for you, so I wouldn’t be all too surprised to hear he got rid of that nasty serpent for you. Doesn’t change the fact that you now also have blood on your hands, little birdie.”

Little birdie, it’s been a long time since anyone called you little birdie. It was always Tony’s favourite pet name for you and Steve quickly picked up on it as well. But never Natasha, she thought it to be too sickly sweet for a woman with your particular skillset, your particular ambitions.

“Natasha Romanova,” I whisper through gritted teeth, “You do not understand the severity of the situation.”

She doesn’t flinch but she does let go of my hand. Nat pours herself another glass and greedily devours it without so much as blinking an eye. “Then explain it to me,” she says dryly, “Or our friendship ends here.”

I swallow thickly at the sting of her words slowly conquering my mind. “You mustn’t tell anyone,” I insist, cupping her hands with mine. Her gaze softens and I know she is willing to hear me out. “As you well know, Steve and I went behind Peggy’s back long before she got sick. I was his mistress and I’m not proud of it.”

It’s how I earned the title of Manhattan mistress. It was a well-known secret that for two consecutive years I was the other woman in Steve Rogers’ life up until his wife Peggy was diagnosed with cancer. Not a fibre in my body wanted to put a stop to the relationship – by that time I had already fallen head over heels in love with the man – yet I albeit begged Steve to let me go because there’s nothing more appalling than go behind the back of a terminally ill woman. He did as I asked him to but couldn’t stay away for long and one month later he was barging down my door, teary-eyed and trembling from having walked all the way from his Brooklyn home to my Manhattan penthouse in the freezing winter cold.

For a long time you though you only offered him some kind of a physical release for all his pent-up frustration but slowly you had also wormed your way into his heart and that night alone was enough proof of his undying love for and devotion to you. It’s safe to say you are very determined to keep it that way.

“But, you see, it’s only a matter of time before he cheats on me as well. Look at it as an insurance policy,” you stated as you took the stem of your glass in your hand and swirled the wine around, too preoccupied by the subtle glow of the deep red in the early evening light to notice the dirty look Natasha send you.

“He wouldn’t dare. The things that man did to clear his name after the scandal broke out, he wouldn’t dare bring more dishonour on his already blemished name. He loves his job way too much for that to happen.”

You draw a long breath, exhaling slowly as you smooth down the skirt of your sapphire dress, Steve’s favourite because it matches his eyes. “My dearest Natasha, I can’t risk losing Steve. You’ve seen the way Sharon looked at him and I have no intention whatsoever to get surprised like a deer in the headlights. She did however see it coming yet made no attempt to escape my gun. But I took no pleasure in it, I did not enjoy taking her life.”

“And you asked Bucky to dispose of her dead body.”

“He’s the only one I trust to deal with the matter discreetly. He’ll keep his mouth shut.”

“Y/N, he’d take a bullet for you if you’d ask him to. Of course he’ll keep his mouth shut.”

“Don’t say such things, Natasha,” you scowl at her. “Steve, he would,” you start but she promptly cuts you off, raising a perfectly manicured red fingernail to silence you.

“Oh cut the crap, Y/N. I get it, Steve’s a wonderful husband bla bla bla. Even Tony would put his life on the line for you, he’s a sucker for your charms and everyone knows you’re that motherfucker’s weak spot. Hell, they even tried to use it against him. But not Steve. He might care for Casey like she’s his own daughter but don’t be mistaken, Y/N, politics have changed him. He’s not the same man who was married to Peggy, the man you fell in love with.”

She shakes her head at your foolishness and you can’t believe her nerve. You can take a lot of shit from a lot of people and that includes your best friend, but this is way out of line and you intend to make it perfectly clear to her that she won’t pull this trick on you twice without suffering the consequences.

“Don’t you ever dare speak like that about Steve or else I will order your execution and have your head on a silver plate by noon. Steve worked very hard to get this far up the food chain. No one, not even you, is going to take that away from him. From me. We’re a family now, Steve, Casey and I. If anyone messes with my family I swear to God they’ll pay for it.”

You finish your rant with a frustrated groan. Nat looks at you flatly, sighing exasperatedly and looking at you through thick black lashes. “If you want Steve to commit, why not get pregnant again?”

She grins wickedly and you grace her with your most conniving smile. “I’ve thought about that, too. Unfortunately it didn’t work for Tony but then again nothing ever seemed to work for that man, he could never keep his hands to himself even before we got married,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Nat. “So what makes you think it’ll work for Steve?”

She looks at you unabashed, a glint of surprise sparkling in her eyes like gold tinsel on a Christmas tree. “Steve wants children, he never got the chance with Peggy. Besides, you’ve always liked the idea of a picture perfect family, a white picket fence and 2-and-a-half kids. You’ve already got Casey, what’s keeping you from getting knocked up again? I bet you’ll have a lot of fun in doing so.”

You nod wordlessly, no harm done in trying, right?

“Mark my words,” she adds mischievously, “He will love you forever if you give him his own child.”

Part 2: the friction

I honestly have no idea who to tag so I’ll just go with: @beccaanne814-blog @mellifluous-melodramas @mrshopkirk @winterboobaer @kiwi71281 @a-little-hell-to-raise @unpredictable-firecracker @marvelingatthewonder @emilyinwonderland3 @hardcorehippos @iiharu-kunii @knittingknerdy @winterwolf57 @dontbeamenacetotheforce @shamvictoria11 @theoneandonlysaucymo @bovaria @marvel-lucy @marvel-ash @thedragonblood

359 notes · View notes