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mirkysconcubinefiction · 2 years

Text

Petty

Pairings: Bucky x Fem Reader

(y/n is **** - makes my life easier)

Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Pregnancy, Domestic Abuse, Postpartum, Guns, Running Away, Swearing, Abandonment, Possessiveness, Divorce, Dark/Mafia Themes.

Summary: The Affair doesn't surprise you. Bucky pointing a gun at you didn't scare you, him threatening to shoot you didn't make you flinch. He crossed a line and you run, cutting ties with your ex, baby, everything you had built over the past decade. Desperate you call an old friend and hope they can help...

The affair didn't surprise you.

There was a small part of you that believed all men were the same and your husband would one day act a fool.

Leaving the party to nurse your baby you paced the halls while patting your babies back. Your son was fussy but you would rather spend time with your four-month old than your husband's associates.

A giggle had drawn your attention and thinking a guest with their conquest had found a spare room to fuck and you peaked in curious. The door was stupidly left ajar, who would be so bold?

There you were, a new mother, wife to the scariest man in the state, watched as your husband felt up the daughter to the Senator.

A barely legal petite thing that was the typical stereotype for any man past their 30s with a wife they'd been with for a decade.

A part of you wanted to nudge the door open with your toe and make yourself known. You wanted to see their expressions of desire mutate to guilt and embarrassment... instead you held your baby closer and walked away.

You didn't need to see your husband face fuck someone other than you.

Sitting in your rocking chair in the nursery you browsed the internet, tablet propped by your nursing pillow, door locked. You had ignored the party goers and responded by texts that you wanted to be alone and not to be bothered.

The prenuptial agreement you had signed was haunting you.

Love really made you stupid.

Nearly ten years together, four married, and you get nothing.

You wouldn't be entitled to spousal support and the past you was okay with that, the independent you had plans to succeed and impress. That was before your husband convinced you to drop your stressful lifestyle and be a kept woman who did charity work.

Years wasted - not that you regret helping others - but it left you with a résumé gap and little in personal savings under your name.

Your husband - no - James - no - Bucky was generous and you wanted for nothing.

Going from a shoebox with roommates to a literal mansion was humbling. If you weren't breastfeeding you'd have a glass of wine or better yet a cold beer. Sober minded while contemplating your life choices hurt.

Wiping at your eyes you didn't know if it was a bad sign you'd cry over giving up your dreams but not watching your hus-Bucky get a blow job?

No... you needed to be smart and think.

Clearly your marriage was over and running off without your son wasn't an option you had no choice but to stay and wait. The door knob rattled and you ignored the soft taps on the door, "****?"

Picking up your phone you called your hus-Bucky who was quick to pick up. "What?"

"What? Why are you locked in the fucking nursery?" Bucky was confused, blow jobs tended to remove blood from the big brain to the smaller one.

"I'm having a mommy moment."

You hear him sigh, "God **** really?"

"Yep. Goodnight." And you hangup.

Tonight you'll sleep in the nursery and in the morning you'll visit a lawyer.

The thing is, everyone knows who you are.

Everyone who is everyone knows who you are and the trick is to leave the baby with the nanny and go for a spa day. Your technician just so happened to be the ex girlfriend of your ex boyfriend who turned into your best friend. While your face is caked with a matcha tea treatment you sip a glass of apple cider bubbly and FaceTime her husband.

A divorce attorney.

An attorney willing to give you legal advice but not sit across the table from a man who could kill him.

You didn't begrudge the man of course.

Once the call had been called off you were no closer about what to do.

Bucky leaned against the door watching, you were sleeping on the small sofa that had been dragged in that day. Before that it was the floor or the chair. For a week he had allowed it but Bucky was missing you, his wife.

Picking you up he smiled when you naturally snuggled against him, it wasn't a long trek to the master suite, and he set you down gently. A frown marred your brow and he tried to smooth it over with no luck.

When morning came you were no longer in his arms but locked away in the nursery. That morning Bucky canceled all of his meetings instead waiting for you to emerge with their son in your arms, "You're here?" The surprise on your face saddened him.

"Missed you." He moved to pick up his son, awake and fussy, Bucky tried kissing you but you turned away to pour yourself a cup of coffee. "****?" The baby squirmed and he patted his back.

"Hmm?" You sat at the island dragging the paper closer to you.

"Are you okay?"

"Your daily horoscope sounds ominous." You tap on your own side, "I think I'll play my numbers today."

"****?" Bucky tried reaching out wanting to at least touch you but you slid off the stool and went to the massive refrigerator.

"I'll cook lunch. We have..."

Frustrated Bucky snaps, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Me? I'm hungry, you sound like you need a nap." Closing the fridge with a head shake you said, "Forget it. I think I'll go out, spend some son daddy time, I'm going out."

"What? Wait!" But you were gone. Not willing to be ignored Bucky followed, purposely keeping his voice low less he caused his baby to cry. "Where do you think you're going?" He watched as you climbed stairs.

"Italian."

Bucky hated Italian, a bad deal fucked with his love of pasta. The man of course followed, "No. We're going to that stupid diner you like." The man was quick to pass you and into the master suite.

"No."

The baby was gently put down on the mattress and Bucky walked into the closet that looked like its own bedroom with the size of it. "Doll I'm in no mood to argue. You've been a right bitch this week and I'm sick of it."

Hands on your hips you glanced over at your baby then the closet. It was a horrible decision but you turned on your heel and walked out. You had already rung the chauffeur and though you were wearing clothes that hadn't been changed in two days with a questionable stain on one shoulder, hair a hot mess, no makeup, no jewelry, and house slippers, you all but ran to the front door and into your Bentley.

Your driver shifted in his seat but didn't move, "I'm sorry ma'am but..."

Swearing you got out of the car and went to the driver's side, opening the door and the man was quick to unbuckle himself and hop out. Before you could speed off you rolled down your window and held out a hand fingers wiggling.

"He'll kill me." The driver whined, showing off his youth.

"Peter!"

"Shit... ok... alright..." he fumbled with his wallet and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and handed it over.

"Thank you!" And you were gone.

Home was a place that lived in the days before food service had health inspectors. A diner with florescent lights, aged linoleum, and wait staff that gave no shits.

You missed this place.

Sitting in a booth you remembered being yours at ungodly hours years ago you ordered more food than you could eat. You weren't sure why you were here, here was a horrible choice, it was the place you had met Bucky.

The man stumbled into your booth, intoxicated.

You should have walked away, you should have known drunkards would make you miserable, a pretty smile and slurred compliments shouldn't have led you to the altar.

Stabbing at your second plate of scrambled eggs you hated how salty they tasted. Your tears made them taste horrible. Stuck in your own world of wallowing you didn't notice the Mercedes that parked beside yours, you didn't see how your car was quickly drove away by Peter, you didn't see your hus-Bucky enter with a scowl twisting his handsome features, his boots scuffing on the linoleum as he spotted you in their corner, you didn't pay him any mind when he paused at the end of your table more concerned over your eggs and wiping the tears away from tainting your breakfast.

Bucky was ready for a fight.

What he wasn't ready for was seeing your booth cluttered with dishes and you crying.

Like the time you had lost a business contract, your grandmother passing, your goldfish nose diving into the toilet, the depressing moment were of course surrounded by food and the depressing atmosphere of the diner... except this time it wasn't him sitting across from you sharing food but an empty space where he should have been.

So Buck sat and waited.

You didn't spare him a glance and after all these years he hated to see you cry. Valiant as ever, fighting back your emotions. Your lips would tremble and face crumble but a second later you'd smooth it over as if smothering a grease fire that just didn't die.

Bucky tried reaching out, he managed to settle a hand over yours before you slipped away again. The anger from earlier came back, "Stop that."

Only then did you spare him a look. It was a hard blank stare and Bucky felt it. Worry. Guilt tickled his conscious but he smoothed it down and waited. He didn't have to wait long, your spine had straightened and you leaned back in your seat, tears ignored and nose sniffing back the snot that made it damp looking. "Your son?"

"Our son is with the Nanny."

"You should be watching him."

"You're his mother and yet you ran away to mope." He tacked on just as harshly.

Your lip quirked up and you crossed your arms, "When was the last time you fed him a bottle Bucky?"

Bucky frowned, you hadn't called him that in ages. "What did you call me?"

"You've changed how many diapers? One? Two? You come home, kiss him goodnight, and sleep. Five minutes. Exactly 5 fucking minutes before you push him away."

Nudging plates aside Bucky leaned forward, "I'm working ****, everything we have comes with sacrifice."

"Ah. Work." You nod your head, "2 am meetings and missed births."

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, "How many times do I need to apologize ****? I'm sorry okay. I was..."

"In L.A. with a red-head that's infamous for her head game." You interrupt not wanting to hear about a meeting that never existed and you too stupid to not see.

Bucky stumbles, his eyes shift taking in your expression, stance, and finally the room before trying to salvage the moment. "Texas sweetheart, remember? I was in meetings all day..."

"Meetings... wow..." you had been stupid to listen and forgive the bastard for missing the birth of their child.

"Doll listen..."

If your pregnancy and birth hadn't been so complicated and traumatic maybe this wouldn't have happened? "You like real girls. No boob job or fillers and she's cute. Hell, if I wasn't in labor half dead I'd fuck her."

Bucky licked his lips and tried again, forcing a smile on his lips, "Honey..."

"I liked those twins too." You interrupt watching his face smooth over, "Cutting it close with those two though. Barely turned legal and you paid for their citizenship. Too bad I was on bed rest, how many Viagra pills did you swallow for that all nighter?" Hadn't that been a doozy of a moment, pictures in hand of two pretty barely legal twins that still had that young look. It had made you dive deep and contemplate murder to make sure your husband wasn't a closet pedophile.

You had a newborn after all.

Freaks came in all shapes and sizes, money just hid them better.

Bucky rubbed the nape of his neck and looked around, "We can talk about this later."

"Talk?" You peer out the tinted windows, not really seeing the world outside your reflection. "There's nothing to talk about Bucky."

"Doll... baby..."

"My name's ****." His face falls when you say your full name, your premarital name. "I'm not your Doll, baby, sweetie, I'm **** your baby mama." It hurts to say but you say it.

"You're my wife." He points a finger at you.

"On paper. We both know how little you care about government contracts."

Bucky's fist hits the table, a plate topples and the rest shake, "In the eyes of God you're mine. You carry my name, you had my baby, you sure as fuck aren't something as hackneyed as a baby mama!"

"I'm an atheist Bucky."

"Stop calling me Bucky! I'm your husband not the schmuck you met in the beginning."

"You stopped being my husband last week, you remember that mingle right? The one where what's her name," you snapped your fingers feigning memory loss, "The Senators daughter. Red dress? She was blowing you in the study, the one right by your son's nursery." Leaning in you whisper, "Should I invite her for tea and ask for tips?"

Bucky stood, a nasty look on his face. His teeth were clenched and cheeks flushed in anger, embarrassment, both? "That's enough!" He grit out before removing himself from the booth and with shaky hands removed a 100$ bill from his money clip and tossed it on the platter of cold sausage links. "Home. Now."

You didn't fight him when he gripped your wrist, you didn't dig your heels into the linoleum as you were dragged out, he opened the car door for you and stood over you as if daring you to not get in. Your eyes darted to his gun that was strapped in a holster at his side, you sat down and slid over. Bucky sat and before he could close his door you were out the other side and slamming the door in the mans face.

You can hear him screaming your name muffled by the interior before the door is swung open and Bucky gets out red-faced and livid.

So were you.

You had on a pair of house slippers, loafers, whatever they were called they were expensive with rubber soles and encased your foot which was a good thing because you ran through traffic.

"****!" Bucky screams, horrified as cars honk and tires squeal to keep from hitting you.

Bucky never leaves the house without guards. You know as you finally made it to the other side that you were being tailed by the quickest - Sam - and you knew he would hunt you down. It's happened before, once when you found out your hus-Bucky was some mob boss, Sam had been the last person chasing you from one part of the city and to the other.

It was Sam who jogged with you in the mornings, afternoon, night, whenever.

It was also Sam who you thought was your friend never told you. Finding out that almost everyone but you knew was heart-wrenching. You also knew, really knew, they were loyal to the Family and their employer. You were just that french fry in a bag of onion rings, a treat.

Time had no meaning when you ran. Even now when your gait slows and it's just you weaving through crowds and traffic with Sam a quiet guardian that keeps pace but there's no banter or friendly shoves.

Eventually you find yourself in an unfamiliar part of the city with crumbling infrastructure and few bodies that you pass. Chest heaving, legs prickling and feeling like your bones were hot pokers, you leaned heavily against the chain link fence and try to breathe.

Sam tries to touch you as he was the touchy feely sort, always ready for a hug and comfortable shoulder to lean on, but you turn away from him. The tears did nothing but annoy you, by now you should have run out of them but they fell freely as your legs all but wobbled as you walked away.

It was better to say nothing less you go off.

Sam wouldn't give you the satisfaction of a fight. He was paid well enough to handle any verbal abuse lunged at him and it would be pointless. No one was your friend, your old friends long gone, the people who you broke bread with and baked birthday cakes were employees, loyal dogs to the man who was supposed to be your husband.

Faithfully.

In sickness and in health.

Hands on your knees you willed yourself to not throw up as beads of sweat and tears intermingled on the cracked sidewalk. It didn't take long for several cars to pull up and park half hazardly around you. Bucky in all his bad guy glory stepped out - sunglasses, toothpick, and gun. He adjusted his button up jacket and pulled out his gun, holding it lazily, and you couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

If he couldn't sweet talk then he'd rely heavily on his reputation of douchery.

"Get in the car sweetheart."

You were thirsty, licking your lips reminded you of that fact. "What are you gonna do Bucky, shoot me?"

He bites down on the toothpick and you ignore him as he spits it out, "Now's not the time for your shit," he shakes the gun at you, up and down, he looks composed but his hands are trembling. "Get. In. The. Fucking. Car."

Would he shoot you in broad daylight?

No one in the small crowd of guards - all of which you knew their name, birthdays, and allergies - would blink if he killed you. They'd help him hide your body or maybe do prison time. Taking the rap for your homicide. You wipe your face but the hot salty trails are never-ending, it makes your eyes itch. "Dont you have a meeting to get to?"

"****." He points the gun at you.

"Gotta fill your quota of fresh meat." You taunt.

"Get in the car or I swear to god..."

"Shoot me?" You smile and hold out your arms, "Go for it." You move closer, step by step, ignoring the wide-eyed look of Sam and hesitant glances of several guards. "Or are you gonna pistol whip me?" The gun presses against your shoulder, "Tie me up and feed me to Nemo?"

"****!" He seethes, "Don't tempt me."

"Come on Bucky, do it."

"Do you really want to die?" He moves the gun, barrel pressed between your eyes. "Leave me, leave our son behind?"

"I'm sure with your money you'll upgrade just fine." He removes the safety.

"James!" Sam shouts, both hands out.

Bucky digs the gun into your skin and you can see his finger toying with the trigger.

On.

Off.

On.

Off.

He bares his teeth and grits out, "Get in the car."

"No."

There's rage in the sound he makes, like a barely contained scream. Bucky lunges at you, his fingers claws as his free hand chokes you and the gun digs into your cheek. "Say it." Spittle clings to his lips, "Again."

His nails dig into your flesh and it's hard to breathe but you try, it's a croak mess of a try but Bucky knows you would if you could, the gun goes off. It's a loud pop by your ear and you flinch at the sound but jump when the heated barrel hovers by your face.

You can feel it and you know it'll burn if it touches you.

"James, stop, **** is your wife." Sam tries to step in with both hands up but it does nothing but piss him off.

Bucky sneers before he's leading you backwards by your throat to his car. Your feet drag and you nearly trip but he shoves you inside before getting in as well. "Don't bother with the doors." He returns his gun back into its holster. "You're grounded until further notice."

"Grounded?" You scoff, "You can't..."

"I'm your husband." He says as if that was the end of the conversation. The car moves and you wait, you wait for Bucky to get comfortable enough to spend time on his phone and the car to hit the highway at a speed worthy of a ticket.

No cop would dare.

You move before it could register. Your body lunging over the console, elbowing the driver, and grasping at the wheel. Consequences be dammed you jerk the wheel careening into the opposite lane, cars honking, tires screeching, and swears filling the car as the driver fights you for the wheel. Bucky is screaming at you - yes you were fucking crazy - and manages to drag you back where he attempts to hold you but you weren't some defenseless house wife that relies on money, you fight.

Legs kicking, nails scratching, fists punching, you bite Bucky somewhere and the car eventually manages to turn into the emergency lane. The driver is quick to get out and circle the car with a roll of duck tape he pulled right out of his ass and it takes two men - driver and Sam - to restrain your legs before your ankles could be bind followed by your wrists, after they flipped you over and Bucky had to contort himself to help.

It was bucky who taped your mouth shut before having no choice but to leave the backseat and switch to the front cursing in his native language for the world to hear.

It doesn't get better.

Making it home you are carried by two people into your home in front of staff and acquaintances, lead into your master suite where Bucky paces in your peripheral, you had been laid on your far too big bed, for a long while it didn't matter how big the bed was you both would gravitate towards one another and now you couldn't stand being in the same room as him.

Bucky sniffs and for a moment you think he was emotional but he was a very good liar. You hear him clear his throat and the ruffle of fabric and the thumps of his shoes being tossed off his feet. Closing your eyes you will your heart to calm and your tears to stop. You've been crying nonstop and it made your head hurt.

Hands turn you over and it makes you wince, the firm mattress putting pressure on the awkward angle of your bindings. Buck doesn't care he just straddles you, a hand patting the side of your face before settling, his thumb brushing the swollen underside of your eye.

His own eyes are red rimmed and it surprises you to see that he too was crying. Had been crying. The dampness clung to his eyelashes but he must have wiped away the streaks on his face... was that why he was wearing sunglasses?

"I love you." Behind the gag you humph, barely controlling an eye roll but you did try to look away but Bucky gripped your face and leaned closer, his weight hurting you. "I love you."

You don't believe him and shift your gaze away, his fingers tighten on your face and his hands are shaky. He takes a breadth and let's out, a part of you expects him to shout at you, hit you, something but instead Bucky is like a statue, gaze beckoning you to accept his pitiful reassurance.

"Last time you ran from me I told you what would happen." He sits up, filling the silence that had settled between the two of you. A sleeve wipes his nose and he sniffs but you see no tears unlike your own eyes. A silent refusal to go away. "This is your fault, remember you brought this on your own."

He reaches behind him and he pulls out his pocket knife. Its his favorite least aesthetically pleasing. Black with silver bits and a well cared for blade.

"If you run from me again I swear to the gods **** I will keep you naked and tied to the fucking bed until you learn to behave. I'll put a fucking collar around your throat and keep you at my feet, do you want that Doll?

The memory of the first time you ran and was captured was seared into your memory. Bucky had made good on his promise the second time you ran after he hit you for the first and last time. Right after you used the meat mallet to bludgeon him and tried burning down your stupid apartment with him in it.

While he was remorseful of his actions and apologized profusely he made true to his promise. Keeping you naked with the softest collar made of crushed velvet and leather, the carpet in your den had been replaced with a plush monstrosity that didn't bruise your knees and palms.

You forgave him because you were an idiot and he had sobbed on your lap begging for forgiveness and promised to never lay his hands on you again, even going so far as making his best friend Steve to shoot him if he did something so heinous again.

Only it wasn't your face that needed promises.

The knife cut through your sweaty and dirty shirt as if it were paper maché and not organic cotton. It had been ages since the last time you were subjected to such treatment... so much time passed that you forgot just how cruel and savage the man was.

"Never wanted you to find out." The blade scratched over your nipple, the fabric of your nursing bra not the least bit attractive, "How did you..." his words trail off and he's mesmerized by your full breasts and you flinched when he squeezed one. A wet patch appeared on the gray fabric from your milk and a grimace flashed over his face.

Embarrassment had you turning your face away. Shutting your eyes and crying. It's enough to jostle Bucky back and he moved away from your top half to drag his knife down your soft belly, the scar from your c-section had healed but left a puckered dark scar.

Another reminder that you weren't the 20 something year old from a decade ago. The belly button ring was gone and your flat stomach had the stretch marks from your 9 month pregnancy. He hesitated at the drawstring of your pants, his fingers nudged down the edge to show off the edges of your cotton briefs that replaced your lace thongs.

"Times change hasn't it?" Carefully he cut the fabric of your pants until they fell like ribbons and your shoes were tossed behind him. "5, no, 6 months... last time I touched you?"

You try to shift to cover yourself as the panties are cut at the sides and he tugs them off you. "Mph..." silenced.

"Even here." His finger drags down the line of your sex, "Before you were so meticulous in your upkeep but now," he tugs at a tuff of hair. "It's like you stopped caring."

No.

You weren't going to play this stupid game.

Deep calm breadths - in and out - you forced your body to relax, fingers curled into the torn fabric of your shirt, ignoring the glide of the blade along the ripple of your knee cap, even bound as you were you knew Bucky wouldn't hurt you in the way he had torn your heart apart.

At his feet lay the trust and adoration you felt for the man because Bucky was everything, this man was your everything and you had given up your life to be his star, his doll, his Bonnie while he was your Clyde.

You got pregnant for this man.

Every ounce of hardship you suffered was so he could be the father he said he wanted to be... and here you were feeling ashamed over your post baby body.

The knife cut through the tape binding your legs and you felt him try and part your legs, sure that he was going to try and take what you hadn't given since before the end of your pregnancy and you lashed out, knee bending and hiking upwards, foot lashing out and hitting Bucky in his abdomen, knocking him right off the mattress.

There was no escape.

Your hands were bound and wiggling to distance yourself, to at least sit up, was your only option.

"You (cough) fucking (wheeze) bitch."

The tape around your mouth itched, you would have cursed the man to hell and back. He rounded the bed and you tried to keep your body faced in his direction ready to kick him, sure that he wouldn't lash out with the knife.

He wouldn't kill you.

He wouldn't maim you.

He wouldn't.

He'd just cheat on you.

Break your heart.

Humiliate you.

He'd toy with you.

A decade didn't make the man weak or lazy. Bucky was still as strong as you remember from years past, quick too, it was no wonder he was able to climb on the bed and throw himself atop you as if your attempts at wiggling was a game.

The knife stabs into the mattress and it's enough to make you pause, Bucky a disheveled mess sitting atop you and for a moment you're not looking into the eyes of your husband, your lover, your everything... they were twin dark pools of nothingness.

Cold.

The tape is ripped off your lips, blood wells up, dry and chapped his thumb smooths over the bruise and smears it. "I hate you."

"Get in line love." The knife is plucked and you could feel the cold sharp edge lay against your cheek, the tip just beneath your eye. "You're not leaving me." His fingers drag down and curl around your throat, heavy and they tighten. "I know you spoke to a lawyer."

God you hate him.

Your hips buck and the blade nicks your skin and Bucky squeezes, you struggle to breathe, he pushes you deeper into the mattress, it felt like he put his weight into it, and you're truly afraid this was it.

This was it.

You were going to die.

The man who had put a ring on your finger, a baby in your belly, your name and his name were carved onto each other's body, the one person you had put your all was going to choke the life out of you.

In the distance you heard the door break, you heard Steve but if you were going to die you weren't going to break eye contact with the monster wearing your soulmates face.

He was off, ripped from atop you and all you could do was take a frantic gulp of air and cough. Your scream was stuck in your throat and you felt so cold, so numb, Natasha's neutral expression the last thing you saw as you struggled to breathe but your body slumps and you fall unconscious.

You're not leaving me.

The words haunt your waking minutes. When sleep manages to claim you, your dreams are haunted by the devils eyes.

Liar.

Cheater.

Deceiver.

Murderer.

His forked tongue spouting promises that burned to ash under your bare feet.

The same nightmare night after night, you choke on your screams, your throat a mess of bruises, your lungs ached, and the nausea haunted you during the day.

The though of choking on food had you sipping on the water and going hungry. If you were forced to stay a prisoner in a spare bedroom, it was the only thing you had control of.

What were they going to do?

Threaten to kill you?

The jagged wound on your wrist where you attempted to slice your wrist was proof you gave two shits about it.

Your baby?

The son you had spent hours trying to push but in the end had to cut out of you had been their bartering chip until you let him cry and cry. His red face and flailing limbs you forced yourself to ignore as you tucked yourself in a corner and cried along with him until he was finally picked up by someone and that was it.

You could hear him faintly in the distance at times but it was better this way.

"I've been instructed to insert an IV if you refuse to eat." Natasha leaned against the doorjam, in her hand was a Mason jar and a fat straw, she waved it at you, "Vanilla ice cream and Ensure, it shouldn't irritate your throat."

To think you used to have spa dates with this woman. How the game would go was Nat leaving the offering on the dresser and locking the door behind her. It would sit there until the next meal and if not her then Sam would deliver you food.

Steve had shown his face once and the food had been tossed in his lap, you were nice enough not to fling the soup in his face. A few days had passed before someone was brought in to clean up the mess you had refused to pick up.

Moving off the two-seater couch you were huddled on you reached for the smoothie. Natasha wasn't the most expressive of persons but there was genuine concern in her face. Too bad you turned around and went to the bathroom that was attached and emptied the glass in the toilet. You were nice enough to rinse it in the sink before handing it back.

"****," she's not happy, "Now isn't the time to act like a brat." You roll your eyes and shuffle back to your couch, a bare wall your entertainment since you had nothing to occupy your time. "I know you're pissed, hurt, but you can not eat. When's the last time you ate?" You ignore her and lay on the small space with your knees bent and eyes closed. "If you don't eat I will have no choice to force you."

Eventually she leaves and you hear the sound of something breaking in the distance shortly after, there's a raise of voices, you can make them out as your ex and Steve.

A knock breaks the quiet and surprise, it's Steve. The man takes in the bare room that had once been furnished like any other spare room. The mattress took up a corner of the room, a single dresser, and the couch made the room feel like it didn't belong in a multi-million dollar mansion. "I've contacted Bruce, he'll be by shortly to look you over, we'll start with an IV for dehydration and if you refuse to eat we'll insert a feeding tube into you."

"Touch me and I'll hang myself with the feeding tube." It comes out broken and scratchy.

"You don't mean that." In response you lift your wrist with the bandage and you can hear him sigh, "Your son needs his mother ****."

You look over to Steve, he was tall and broad-shouldered taking up space in the doorway. "Bullshit."

"He's a baby."

"I was an incubator, nothing more."

"How can you say that ****? You're hurt, I get it, but you can't cut out your own flesh and blood."

"He can keep him." Steve frowns at your words, "I didn't want him anyways."

"You don't mean that."

A laugh bubbles up but you can't so you smile instead, "He wanted a kid, I gave it to him, he can keep it."

"It? Brandon isn't an It ****!"

"Funny how you're lecturing me and not your best friend."

"Buck has been dealt with, he's... he's sorry ****."

The words make you sit up and your hands tug at your collar, "For this?"

Steve looks away, "Yes."

There's so much you want to say, to scream, you want to pick up the couch and fling it at the man you had made godfather to your son... you just... rest against the cushion and cry. It's all you can do, frustrated angry tears that silently fall and you don't bother to wipe them away.

Don't bother to pretend you're not broken and hurt because you are.

Shattered.

Distraught.

You keep your eye on Steve, the man shifts and clears his throat, eyes dropping to the floor and you can see his shoulders droop. "****..." he calls you by your pet name, "I'm sorry."

He's not.

None of them are.

People like him, Sam, Natasha, Bucky, they were masters of deception... even sweet Peter... he knew...

You don't bother with words, your throat ached, you shouldn't have wasted the energy. God, you were too tired to deal with this. Getting to your feet you feel flushed and nauseous, the world goes a little gray and your body stops fighting, Steve is there to catch you, calling your name before shouting for help.

Waking up in a hospital was a miracle, it wasn't long before you pulled an Oscar worthy freak out and used whatever public assistance given to you to get away from your ex who had the audacity to sit beside you like he hadn't tried to murder you with his bare hands.

Pictures and a statement had been taken. The look of utter disbelief on Bucky's face when you didn't play the submissive wife role and agree that you had been attacked by a stranger was worth the hassle of the police.

You were connected to a domestic violence assistance - providing you shelter and a safe place to go, at least you hoped.

It was a mind racing process, leaving behind everything you had built-in the past decade, your baby, your name, and life. Hopping over state lines, changing your name, altering your appearance, you carried a scar on your wrist and a fear to leave the safety of your shelter for too long.

Months passed and your breasts had taken several weeks to stop the leaking. It had taken up to that point for the weight of leaving your baby behind to hit you - hard.

You moved again and again.

Never confident that he was out there ready to finish you off.

If he couldn't have you then no one could... it was hot at one time. The possessive energy that would wet your panties and knowing that you were just as toxic.

He was yours, had, had been yours.

Now he was the Whore of tri-state area with God knows what diseases you hoped would make his cock rot and fall off.

The bed creaked under your weight, it's been two days since you left the safety of your room and while you hated carrying a gun, you held it in your hand and told yourself you were okay.

It was okay.

Today was a good day to get fresh air, you had a loaded gun to protect you. You never left home without something on you - mace, knives, gloves with steel knuckles, a tazer - you wouldn't be caught defenseless.

Minutes tick and you work on your breathing as you ready yourself to leave. Suitably armed and jacket concealing the gun at your side you were ready to leave. Making it to the supermarket you were grateful for the wig and contacts, the makeup helped contour your face, it was nice to molest the produce and shuffle through coupons for a good deal.

The nice weather called to you, happily you visited the Starbucks and ordered venti drink and sat in a corner with your grocery bags at your feet. It's where your carefully constructed new life crumbled, a very familiar figure walked into the short line for coffee and you shifted your gaze from them and pulled your phone from your pocket.

Plan B was to run with your clothes on your back and Id's in your pocket, all you had to do was wait for an Uber.

Outwardly you didn't allow the luxury of panic but under the surface your heart was skipping beats and your anxiety was biting at your nerves. "Is this seat taken?" The chair is pulled out and none other than Natasha sits with the grace of a cat.

You ignore her and she sits there, quietly taking you in and the café attached to the supermarket. Your free hand slips into your pocket and you wait for your Uber to get closer and closer... standing you pick up your grocery bags and ignore the ever present shadow that was Natasha and dump said bags into a charity bin before you're out the front door, one hand in your pocket and the other holding your phone that pinged with the arrival of your Uber.

Outside you can see a waiting vehicle with Sam leaning against a running car and if there was him no doubt there was others. You felt her hand grip your arm and you don't hesitate to mace the woman, the brass knuckles you slipped on connected with her skull when you swung, hitting as hard as you could.

There's surprise from the crowd and you rush to the Uber door and hop it, "Go! That bitch is fucking crazy."

The Uber went.

The woman driving was wide-eyed and swearing as you made up a story of your ex's stalker girlfriend and the woman had offered to turn around and run Natasha over... you appreciated the offer.

It just sucks you were being followed by Sam.

The car drops you off at a strip mall of a handful of shops. You don't hesitate to hurry into the Dollar Plus store knowing you would be quickly followed but you were prepared, ready for scenarios like this.

Bucky wasn't the only one who had made connections over the years and it helps you escape.

The next time you're met with someone of your past is on the bus that was supposed to take you to another nameless city. You had fallen asleep, head pressed against the glass and it was the crinkle of a bag of chips being opened that woke you.

Peter sat happily beside you with a forced smile and a offer for a chip.

You accepted a chip and a can of fanta.

Had it been anyone else you would have gotten physical. Instead you waited for the next stop, a quick convo to the bus driver, and you refuse to watch Peter hauled away by the police protesting. You knew someone would bail him out and you quietly slipped away, changing destinations.

Sam had been an unfortunate casualty - you weren't aiming to kill him, no matter how much your mind whispered to do it.

You couldn't.

He had chased you from a bank to a random part of a city, you had tried to hide under a vehicle but he had dragged you from beneath it and you fought him the best you could until you fought him for his gun and the bullet had been a clean shot through his leg, keeping him from chasing you.

Leaving him there you ran away again, calling a Uber to pick you up from God knows where and this time you were tired of avoiding the monster of your dreams.

It was time to bring out the big guns.

Washington wasn't too long of a skip from the coast you had been tip toeing through. Outside of a random bodega you used a payphone, dialing one of the few numbers you knew by heart. It took 2 tries before they picked up and it was silence on the other end, "It's the Witch of Manhattan."

You heard a gasp in the background and then a booming voice, "Lady ****!" Thor was a personality all of his own, old money, old values, he was an old business colleague of your ex - the reason the man couldn't eat Italian food.

Importantly, Thor was a sworn enemy of the Buchanan's. "Sorry to bother you so late, very rude."

"Where are you?" You hear in the background.

"Jane my dear hush." It was muffled and you smiled, so they were still together. "Lady ****, I've sent a driver to pick you up." The phone disconnects and you hope you made the right decision.

It wasn't a car that picked you up but a motorcycle. A helmet had graciously been provided and with just a book bag as your luggage you held on tight and swerved through the city.

It brought back fond memories.

The high-rise building was brightly lit and you were brought to the underground garage where a private elevator waited. The ride up you spent taking in the sights of the city before the clear glass frosted and with a ding you were greeted with marble floors and a butler - because of course Thor Odison had a butler.

"Weapons on the tray Miss." It was a silver tray, polished and expensive looking.

One by one you removed what you had hidden away, going so far as reaching into your bra. It was a small pile you hoped you got back soon.

A pair of plastic booties were handed to you and your escort before you were Lead through a door and was greeted by creams, gold, and hard wood accents. It was an open concept space with leather upholstery, stainless steel appliances, and floor to ceiling windows.

It was elegant.

Until the rattiest looking dog zoomed from the second level, down the set of stairs, his paws skidding on the polished hard wood, around the sectional, and zoomed to you.

Hairless except for the tuffs on the top of it's head and the platinum diamond studded collar clashed with the lopsided knitted sweater, "Loki!" The butler shot the dog a scowl as he set the tray down and was quick to scoop up the jumping mini kangaroo, "Master Odinson will be greatly disappointed."

"****!"

"Lady ****!"

From the second floor Thor and his wife Jane hurried to greet you - Jane was a rush while Thor walked at a proper pace. It had been several years since you last saw them in person and accepted the hug as Jane tossed herself at you, all smiles and dripping with jewelry.

That was how you were offered a spare room for the night after a very long night of drinks, food, and conversation - honesty was the best policy with Thor, the man hated liers.

It wasn't a happily ever after. You don't think you'd find it for a very long time but it was better than you had expected. A year and some change had passed since you left your husband and child, months of running, hiding, had led you to this point of safety.

As safe as one could be under the feet of someone like the Odinson's. Internationally powerful compared to the Buchanan's but you were willing to be the petty one.

You didn't want a cent from your ex, not a dime and you know you deserved more than half of the wealth that accumulated because of you investing.

You didn't need to read the society pages to learn of the new engagement ring sitting on a models finger, didn't need to sip tea with the wives of the underworld to learn of the girlfriends on the side that came and went like used tissue paper, it was a given that nannies and boarding school would be the life of your baby... no... his baby.

"If you're going to think of him, at least plot his death with me." Jane clicked her glass with yours, the diamond on her finger glistening under the sun. "We don't need Thor, we can do it ourselves."

The world truly believed Jane was a simple scientist turned housewife - brilliant but nice - if only they knew just how blood thirsty the woman truly was. Mix a few chemicals together and poof, problem solved, no body to fuss with. "Thank you again for letting me stay."

She waves it off before taking a delicate sip of her mimosa, "Please, we both know the only reason you didn't leave the country and build a goddamn castle with s crocodile infested moat was because you're afraid of flying."

"International flights need my real ID." She shoots you a look, "The non-profit couldn't ship me first class." You tried joking.

"This," her glass waves in the air like a champagne blessing over you, "Will work on my husband. God knows I love that man but he's a bleeding heart. PTSD, anxiety, mental health I get, trust me ****, I'm not the sanest but you're smart. Not PhD smart but you're not stupid."

"Thank you, really, I appreciate that." You pop a piece of fruit in your mouth.

"****." She waits until you sigh and grace her with your undivided attention, "You went a hunger strike, Bruce is loyal to you, you know this."

"If he was loyal..."

"Stop. It's the lifestyle you know this." Out of spite you steal the last strawberry, "I know you and James used to share lover's, you're upset because he went behind your back when you were on bed rest."

"He has two hands. I was bed ridden carrying his sperm, the least the fucker could do was be miserable with me." Picking up the cheese knife you stabbed the brie, "He was disgusted by me, my husband was disgusted by leaking nipples and stretch marks."

"Drink." She shoved her champagne flute in your face and with no choice you take it. "Let it all out, the champagne taste better with tears."

From the ice bucket she pours the both of you more, "I was bloated, gassy, my feet were swollen, I lost my fucking hair."

"Drink."

You both do and she refills again.

"Last time we tried to have sex the baby kicked... he freaked out." Jane reached over and held your hand, "He got soft. If you had seen his face..."

"Drink." You took a sip, "More."

Shaking your head you set the glass down, "You don't get it, he stopped sleeping next to me." Tears welled and you wiped them away, smearing your eyeliner, "It was lonely. He wasn't even there! I gave birth with him balls deep in some bitch, no one was there, I was all alone..." she squeezed your hand, "That was it, I knew."

"That he was cheating?"

"No... I knew he stopped loving me."

A moment passes and Jane hands you a napkin and tops off your drink, "You know, we can laser the stretch marks off."

"Jane!" You can't help but laugh, "What? No."

"A mommy tuck, they have those."

"God no." You wipe your nose, "You're right, about Bruce."

"I'm usually right. He's the one who insisted on taking you to the hospital from my understanding."

"Yea." Gratefully you took your glass and sipped.

"He's the one who funded your cross-country adventure as well."

It wasn't a question but fact and you were reminded yet again how brilliant but scary the woman was. No doubt she picked apart your every word you had uttered the first night and went out to find answers. "Who's your Canary?" Jane smiled, "Drink and spill the tea."

"Thor offered Bruce a position here." She says to distract you, it worked.

"What?" Did you hear her right.

"More for me of course, I want to pick his brain. He's absolutely brilliant."

Leaning in you whispered, "You want to see him naked."

"Please," Jane scoffs, "I'm happily married to an absolute God of a man." She tries.

You grin, "He named his cock the Hulk and the rumors are all true."

Her eyes grow wide, "You slut. Drink, we need something stronger." She turns and waves to her butler - there were several - and without a word the man was off. "After we talk about cocks and how you know, just know I know you left breadcrumbs for them to find you. Petty and devious, I love it, I'm still waiting to see what you do to that asshole and his bff."

A frosted bottle of vodka clinks on the table and a new jug of freshly squeezed orange juice, "Pride is a man's downfall." You say and watch as two new sets of glasses were set down and the Butler poured drinks, "I'm in a state he can't cross into and surrounded by gorgeous powerful men." Handing over a glass to her and holding yours up you say, "To happy hunting."

Glass met glass with a clink and Jane's eyes lit with mischievous glee. "I'll talk to Thor, I've always wanted a wife!"

In the penthouse above standing with the breeze gently ruffling his hair Thor leaned against the railing listening, his anger had simmered to exasperation at his wife's words. It was going to be an interesting coming year.

The end.

Ao3

#mirkysconcubinefiction #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mafia!bucky #angst #dark theme #cheating #affair #Petty #fic: Petty #female reader #domestic violence #fanfiction #thor/jane #mafia thor #running away #reader leaves it all behind

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mirkysconcubinefiction · 2 years

Text

Pretty in the Brain

Pairing: Stucky x Reader (****)

Notes: Beautiful and Brilliant reader with touches of Angst and Depression.

Summary: They wanted you because you were pretty, esthetically pleasing, you just wanted to be left alone.

Authors Note: this has been sitting in my drafts for quite some time and I don't have the heart to delete it. It ends at a 'cliffhanger' and if you want to finish this then it's up for adoption or good enough to be left as is. Sorry. 🖤🕳🖤

You were pretty.

Esthetically pleasing.

They said you made looking beautiful effortless with how you carried yourself.

Confident and without shame.

If only they knew just how much you hated your reflection, the wanting looks were tiring and the jealous sneers exhausting but you were smart and that was fine.

Better than fine with 2 degrees and summa cum laude to assist you in getting into a prestigious firm - Barnes & Rogers. An elite pair of husband's that hired you after an excruciating journey of being their temporary assistant and climbing higher and higher.

A pretty face could only get you so far but your brain opened doors... or so you thought.

The flute of champagne twirled between your manicured fingers as your eyes shifted between the two handsome men - they were the epitome of Alpha male energy with a hint of daddy dom.

The world shivered under their gazes and bowed at their feet.

You've seen successful entrepreneur woman gush, faithful spouses remove their wedding rings, they had alot of fish in the ocean outside their office doors to choose from yet they chose you.

Their suit jackets had been removed leaving them in their vests and button up sleeves rolled up showing off their arms - you were a sucker for hands and arms.

Barnes had the top buttons of his shirt undone and tie tossed somewhere showing off a touch of chest hair. Rogers sat on his desk with his square glasses, lazily tugged tie and arms crossed showing off the broadness of his frame.

For a moment you wondered who owned who, both men were obnoxious in their affection, you've caught them many times in blush worthy positions and even a few times with others.

They had no shame.

Was it all for show?

Did it matter?

You lift the glass to your lips, lipstick leaving a smudge of color and feighn a sip, licking off the expensive bubbles from your lips. It was supposed to have been a sip to a job well done, the countless hours, a big win you'd get your name on to help further you career, but instead it tasted bitter and a salute to the end of your career.

"What do you say ****?"

Rogers has a coy smile, there's desire in his eyes, he holds your gaze and it does absolutely nothing. Your heart doesn't flutter, a broken heart is a dull weight, it matches the heavy weight of depression you've battled against since college.

"We can be so good doll." Barnes tries and had you not been on the verge of tears you would have rolled your eyes at the name.

You were pretty.

Esthetically pleasing.

It was why you were hired... it hurt.

To think you gave up your social life for a career you believed you were good at. It didn't matter how pretty you looked, what mattered was your brain, your GPA, your academic achievements and blah blah that attracted the firm to you.

Swallowing down the emotion you stood and looked between the two men, "It's been a long day," your eyes burn and it pushes you to turn away and walk to the door, "Good talk gentlemen."

"****!" Both men call out to you but you ignore them and pick up your jacket and bag from the empty secretary desk that had once been yours, setting down your champagne flute, and made your way to the elevator.

It was late and the offices were empty, you had never been afraid to be alone with either of your bosses but them confessing their desire to fuck you made you hyper aware and with shaky fingers you reach for your mace.

The elevator doors were a polished gold that remained stubbornly closed.

"We want you ****, for a long time now." Rogers poured himself another round of champagne.

"You're all we could think of some night." Barnes chugged his flute that probably cost more than your rent.

"Every dam minute." And Rogers gaze rakes over you like you've seen him do to his partner.

"It doesn't have to change our working relationship princess, we know you're not a harpy."

"You're beautiful not cruel and we know you'll be good for us."

They took turns speaking, "We knew the moment we saw you that you would be perfect for us."

"****!" The memory flits away when your name bounces off the walls, an echo in the empty building.

The elevator was taking way too long and you jabbed at the button again and again.

"Christ **** what is wrong with you?" It was Barnes and he sounded annoyed, you gripped your mace and unclipped the cap. "Running isn't your finest moment." With a ding the elevator doors open, "Come back and we can talk like fucking adults." He grabs your elbow and you gasp at being manhandled and the bite of pain from his grip.

His scowl smooths over - no doubt you looked ugly as sin with tear tracks ruining your makeup - and on instinct you sprayed him in the face.

He screamed.

You jumped into the elevator and stabbed at the buttons as you did your best to breathe through the pain from the mace mist hitting you as well and the fear of being manhandled. Running through the lobby and to the parking garage wasn't your finest moment, slipping on the polished floor and landing in a heap reminded you, you weren't wearing your shoes having taken those killer heels off the moment you could, but you ran nonetheless to your car.

Petrified you peeled out of the garage and into New York traffic knowing your career came to an end - no one told them no.

No one but you and your mace.

Your resignation letter was met with silence.

Sharply at 6 am you watched from your bathroom window as your company car was towed.

There was silence from your work colleagues- not one curious soul reached out and you were grateful on that front.

The anxiety didn't ease as you didn't leave your apartment until you absolutely had to, so sure that something bad would happen to you. You knew your former bosses had connections and were petty assholes... it wasn't like you to be so scared but you were.

Maybe they'd leave you be.

Maybe they'd hire someone to hurt you, or worse kill you.

You really needed to stop watching your crime shows but you had given yourself time to sit and let the dust settle before trying to find another job.

Going outside with the sun shining and crisp autumn air was refreshing. The baggy hoodie and overalls helped hide you away and your baseball cap did the trick. At least you thought you looked unassuming as you grocery shopped at your corner bodega and hit a Cafe for a latte before heading back home.

There was no cause for alarm when you made it to your door and unlocked the extra set of deadbolts you had installed. Your apartment was as warm and quiet as you had left it. A few steps in you paused when you saw a giant bouquet of flowers that sat on your chipped kitchen island.

Roses, lilies, and orchids.

Delicately tied with a ribbon but the flowers weren't the only thing sitting like royalty.

"Get the fuck out." You were tempted to chuck a potato at the pair of men sitting on your stools with a deck of cards between them as if they were impatient for your return. As if they had the right to demand your time let alone break and enter into your home.

"We're here to talk."

Your body turns, there's a gun hidden...

"If you're looking for that gun under the cushion it's gone." Steve says casually.

"And the one in your bedroom," Bucky picks up a card from the deck, "All of them really. You have quite a collection doll."

It's the audacity really, the absolute gall, to think you weren't prepared for murder and to hide a body.

Bodies.

The groceries thump on the floor and you make your way to the decorative umbrella holder and pull out your impulse purchase after too many spy movies. The head of the umbrella thumps on the ground but in your hand you grip the handle of a sword.

"What the fuck."

"Shit."

Both men weren't expecting a sword and eyed you warily.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out." Each word is pushed through gritted teeth.

"****..." Roger tries but you're absolutely done with them.

"Get out!" They jump back as you step closer, it wasn't a spacious apartment by any means, this was New York. The beautiful bouquet is beheaded with one swipe of your sword, proving the dam thing was sharp and not just a prop.

Their eyes go wide and for once you see the two men you had looked up to at one point show fear. It was a powerful moment broken only by something tugging at your pants legs... you look down only to see what looked like a rat try to claw up your leg. A wrinkly looking thing with wide eyes and pointy ears, it wasn't a rat, worse, it was a kitten.

With one hand you plucked the thing from your leg and your heart all but melted when it let out a cry. "Poor baby..." looking to the two men you glared, "Animals are not allowed you dimwitted twits. Is this a bribe? Are you trying to bribe me?"

"Put the sword away." Barnes begs.

"No!" You hug the poor thing close to you, "Breaking and entering is a crime."

"So is murder!" They both shout.

"Self defense. I know my fucking rights and I have the right to defend myself from the likes of both of you!"

"We're not here to start trouble ****..."

"Stuff it Steve. Both of you leave, I have the right to use this sword to gut you if I feel threatened and seeing as there are two men with double my muscle mass I feel in the mood to cut something off."

You took great pleasure watching the two men crab walk, hands in the air, out of your apartment. The door was quickly slammed in their face and locked... what the absolute fuck was wrong with them?

How was this your life?

What do you do now?

Holding the kitty closer you wandered around do your apartment packing a bag, you needed to leave, it wasn't safe for you here.

Kinda shitty place to end this but I'm all for the suspense of *gasp* what happens next... and to that I say, you decide.

Do you keep up the vibes of "you can both fuck off and die" or "know what, if you beg nicely I'd let you both be my Mister's."

I like both.

I'd take both.

The muse is lost on this one sadly. 🖤💋🖤

#mirkysconcubinefiction #avengers #female reader #fanfic #angst #stucky x reader #pretty in the brain #steve x bucky #steve x reader x bucky #reader bamf #sorry the muse died #au stucky #au #reader insert #ofc #y/n x stucky #y/n

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mirkysconcubinefiction · 3 years

Text

Affair

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Stuff: Angst - Short - Betrayal - Toxic Family - Miscarriage Mentioned - Tears.

Y/N subbed for ****

Summary: He had cheated and life isn't fair but time will do you justice.

The table was long, polished, and took up much of the space of the Manhattan high-rise office. Neutral ground for you and your hus- Ex would end the charade of a marriage after 3 months of matrimony.

Three months.

Four years strung along like a love-sick puppy and it took a marriage and a miscarriage to show you how horrible your choice in men was. A tale older than time - money, status, affairs, you were living the American dream and poof all gone.

It wasn't the nanny, the secretary, it wasn't a prostitute, nope, it had been your sister.

Your sister.

You'd like to say you were surprised but you weren't. Hell, even your parents had cut you off until you forgave her.... to keep the peace... once again the favorite child wins.

You'd thought you had won.

A faithful and dedicated man who was there with you at your lowest after going No Contact with family and the loss of your first and only child.

Yet here you sat.

You had made sure to dress impeccably with your finest jewelry that glittered under the natural light of the windows, you'd even gotten extensions and a stylist to pin-up your hair and makeup so you could sit in a chair like a warrior.

Only now as time ticked and the drone of voices of both your attorneys filled the silence you didn't feel like that strong and confident woman from when you had walked in. Tear tracks ruined the part you wanted so much to believe in.

Weak.

Pitiful.

Squaring your shoulders you told yourself crying was ok. You could cry because mourning allowed you to heal and you would be in a better position.

"My client wants nothing."

It had been an unnecessary ongoing battle. You didn't want one cent of alimony, not one square inch of property, you didn't want a thread of fabric from the closets you had left behind, no gem or trinket gifted to you.

Nothing.

Nada.

You deserved it all though. Every dollar in the joint account belonged to you. You'd help build the Barnes Empire from the ground up, it had been first in your name and love had blinded you.

It was your penance for being stupid but it also ensured that James Buchanan Barnes was out of your life for good - you didn't want anything from the bastard. Nothing that he had touched and breathed on.

Your degree was good enough - you told yourself.

"Doll..." he tries but your attorney was there to cut him off.

"You agreed to the rule James."

"Steve come on!"

Before this fiasco Steve had been the best friend to your husband - he was set to be your unborn babies godfather had it survived - but Steve had taken you on at no cost. Maybe it was to assuage his own guilt?

Steve had known.

Your parents had known.

The neighbors had known.

The house staff had known.

Everyone fucking knew except you.

A fresh wave of tears fell and your lower lip trembled. It hurt to hold it in. You wanted to rage and scream and topple the table over.

"Doll. Look at me."

"James! I will call this meeting to an end."

"No! Look at me ****."

You don't.

"That's it..." Steve stands causing the others to stand leaving you the only one sitting looking pathetic and heartbroken.

Broken, hurt, depressed.

"Meeting is over. We'll reschedule and Ms. **** will not be present."

"This isn't over. We're not over." Bucky's hand smacks the table top. "****!"

There's so much you want to say. Should say. Your chair rolls back and you stand with your purse secured at your side. Without a word you make it out of the room and ignore the commotion of your ex husband running in Steve as the other man keeps him from you.

Your silence is all you had.

Ever since you walked in on him and your sister you hadn't spoken a word to the man. Bucky hated to be ignored, he hated the silent treatment, in public you act as if he never existed, you pretend the last four years and three months had never happened.

Back before you met him.

You moved in with a dear friend and took public transportation as you hopped around the city looking for work as you decided what to do with your life.

Making it on the elevator you ignore the eyes on you and the shouts that are cut off when the door closes. The ride down is quiet and hailing a cab you remove your jewelry one by one and drop them in your purse.

Eventually you would have to pawn them if you did decide to leave New York. That was a thought for another day. Pulling out some face wipes and a hand mirror you wiped away the ruined makeup and staring into your reflection you knew time was your friend.

Once your divorce was final then you'd deal with your sister. Once the dust settles she will pay, with her life.

#mirkysconcubinefiction #fanfiction #female reader #cheating #angst #Affair Fiction #affair #betrayal #toxic family #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #y/n #dark #short fiction #drabble #fanfic

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mirkysconcubinefiction · 3 years

Text

Just No

💮3💮

{Part 1 HeRe - Part 2 HeRe}

Pairing: Steve x Female Reader (Y/N = ****) past Steve x Sharon

Summary: You're the bastard child of Kingpin. You're the girlfriend of Captain America. The classic tale of girl overhears they were an 'assignment' and the boy admits that yes, he had a girlfriend but he loves you now. Shit hits the fan - will girl forgive boy? Will boy let girl go one he finds out she's hiding something? Will girl throw it all away for love? Would the boy?

Warning: Angst x Fluff x Happy Ending x asshole Steve x Suicidal Thoughts x 🔫 x mentions of Abortion x Mental Health x Dark Themes

A/N: I don't own a iPhone or an apple watch. Liberal use of technology... if i get it wrong then ooppsy 😅🖤

Your hands were free.

The cuffs were still on, a constant reminder you're sure Steve thought would keep you from doing something like escape... he was an idiot, of course you'd try to escape.

A tray of food had been brought in and the IV removed. Soft foods like soup and mashed potatoes with pale gravy and jello was your meal. It would have been delicious, should have been the best thing since the last thing you ate was a poptart, but the smell.

God the smell.

You covered your mouth and gagged.

It was a dry heave and you pushed the tray away with the help of Steve who was right there with a bed pan. The thought of throwing up in a bed pan made your stomach flip and you shoved away the bed pan and turned over, your shackled ankles making it awkward but yet again Steve was there with that stupid bed pan and you vomited.

Coughed and spit, eyes watering, the bile was disgusting and you had nothing but acid to vomit.

There are gentle hands on you as a nurse cares for you while another is trying to usher out two super soldiers - Fury had left with intentions to return, with your watch in hand - but the two men refused to leave.

Steve because you were sick because of him and Bucky didn't need an excuse.

"We might have to put the IV back in, you need fluids Ms ****."

"No." It would make it harder to run.

The nurse patted your brow with a cool cloth, "If not for you then..." she trailed off but her gaze went from your own to lower, "You could get seriously ill."

It scared you that /someone knew. Someone other than you, a pee stick, and your gynecologist. You were pregnant. Not even a day after your stupid IUD was removed and your pills given to a neighbor you had been impregnated... it should have been 4 to 6 months... maybe an entire year... but no.

No.

Not super serum sperm.

You gripped the woman's uniform and pulled her closer, ignoring everyone in the room, "Not. One. Word." The nurse nodded and her eyes showed fear, hesitation, it showed something and you let her go.

Unfortunately the moment was broken up by you barfing again.

Matza soup and salty crackers accompanied your strong cup of black tea. It settled in your stomach and it would have been a decent meal if Fury wasn't there with a scowl in place and your watch right back in the hands of the Winter Soldier.

Apparently Tony was making it difficult for them to crack into it and Steve refused to unlock it and you were relieved. So very relieved over his stupidness, grateful he wouldn't find out what you planned to do because you're sure he'd keep you in a basement somewhere.

The man could.

He had that look.

The Ted Bundy look of a charming dark persona.

It's what drew you in like a moth to a flame. Steve wasn't just a war veteran with a butt enhancing uniform, he wasn't just a man with man sized desires, he wasn't like other men you have met. He didn't set out to burn the world and you would admit you agreed to go out with the man for a lark and maybe get a foothold into SHIELD someway but Steve was passion and fire.

Steve would burn the world for someone he loved... you knew if he loved you... if Steve cherished you a fraction like he did with his best friend... if you could get the man and not the SHIELD agent or the soldier carrying the shield to walk on fire and drag himself through broken glass for you... you'd have everything.

Protection.

It's what you wanted when you had accepted that first date with the soldier. It had been a coffee date at seven pm that day. He walked you to a cheesy Cafe by the tower, payed for your hot beverage with too much espresso - it's never enough - and pulled out your chair.

The barista had to ask you to leave with her purse in one hand and the store keys in the other. Steve had waited with you for a Taxi and he'd been a perfect gentleman who shook your hand... you were tempted to drop it right there and then... Steve Roger's was sweet and you felt a twinge of guilt - it reminded you that you were better than your father.

You had a conscious.

You weren't good with undercover work and pretending to be the perfect girlfriend would no doubt make you go stir crazy so you scrapped that plan and told him so the next day.

"I'm not really your type Steve. I'm a hot mess and I would rather bar hop than bake an apple pie." Which was true. You were a social butterfly to catch the gossip and show face but you weren't a Suzy homemaker.

You were a woman with a less than stellar reputation and dating Captain America would be trouble - the goodie two-shoes would sell you out and then all your plans would vanish.

Poof.

Except Steve was a determined ball of muscle. He insisted he wanted to spend time with you, that he wanted to get to know the real you, the you that partied like you were twenty and food hopped across the state.

Steve bar hopped.

Steve became a foodie.

He let you take him to questionable neighborhoods, he carried you on his back when you drank too much or if you complained about walking, he let you drag him to drag shows and when you needed a paper proofread he would sit with his reading glasses like an old man and read your essays or thesis.

It was unfortunate that you fell in love with him.

You genuinely fell in love with an old out of time white boy from Brooklyn but he beat you. He played the game and played it better, you were the one who was strung along and had opened up to someone who could throw you in a prison cell deep in the ocean and no one would miss you.

No one would miss you.

The thought hurt.

As many friends you had, they weren't friends. No one would send a search party for you, as much good as you tried to accomplish, your legal name would associate only with a crime lord who wanted nothing to do with you.

That man would cry for joy if you died.

It hurt.

God did it fucking hurt.

It didn't hurt as much as Steve's infidelity and lies. Everything he said and did was coated in a layer of suspicion. You were dumb, so fucking stupid, to believe you could have found such an amazing partner.

You'd gotten pregnant on purpose.

You had been planning on how to tell Steve. You had wanted it to be a surprise for date night but the onsie wrapping the pregnancy test was sitting in the trunk of your car.

Ah shit.

Fuck.

Your pregnancy test and Surprise Daddy onsie was in the trunk of a car you hardly used. It was New York, having a car was a waste of money with so many public transportation options. It was sitting in the garage of the Tower, you had wanted to drive the both of you to your favorite food place and surprise him like you've seen countless times on YouTube.

It was supposed to be your trump card.

Steve Roger's wanted a family, he wanted stability, the asshole would have put that ring on your fingers and burned the world for you...

Liar.

LIAR!

You were both liars.

You'd fallen in love and promised to not be that woman, the one who dropped to their knees and forgave, that wasn't you.

You wouldn't beg and plead and humiliate yourself like your mother had done.

No.

The bed sheets ruffle and you watch a nurse unlock your cuff then the other as you chew on a cracker. "Nurse Torres has given you the green light for a shower."

"I'll take her." Steve is up from his seat and Bucky is there to sit him right down with his vibranium arm still upset over his impromptu meet-up with the wall.

"Medical Staff only - you shouldn't be here anyways." She was snippy as she helped you sit up and removed the broken cuffs at your wrist.

A shower was glorious.

You sat in a chair under the hot water and scrubbed your hair, face, private bits, and brushed your teeth.

A pair of pants and shirt was given to you and you towel dried your hair as the nurse left you alone for a moment to let you use the bathroom in privacy.

Leaving you alone allowed you to breathe. You needed your watch... a plan had been made to get out of the room... you needed... there was a knock on the door and you flusbed the toilet and washed your hands.

Glancing in the mirror you wished you could break it.

Legs crossed you sat, the nurse didn't tie you up, in fact she took the cuffs while sending a dirty look to all the men in the room with express permission to press the red button if you needed assistance.

"**** we need you to let us see your messages." Bucky tries while Steve shifts in his chair, arms crossed with a sour expression.

"No. Am I under arrest?" The question goes to Fury who's sitting in a chair watching the room.

"You're under SHIELD protection but you haven't been formally charged with a crime."

"Then I'm leaving. You can't keep me here."

"You're not leaving." Steve says it as if he had authority over you, "You're staying here until this mess is fixed. I'm not letting you die because you're stubborn and cocky."

"No."

Steve doesn't bother to argue and instead looks to Fury, "Tell the staff I want her tied to the bed. She's not leaving this room."

The pillow was in your hand and you tossed it, it wouldn't have done much since Steve caught it but you were enraged. So fucking pissed that you leapt from the hospital bed and directly on the man, the chair toppling backwards.

It was a mess of pain and murderous intent. You didn't care you banged up your knee or hands, you hit what flesh you could attack and your fingers curled into his collar as arms tried ripping you off Steve but you weren't letting go.

The shirt ripped and you were dragged off Steve kicking and screaming and you were forced back on the bed and you saw someone with a needle... they were going to pump something else into your system... you did the only thing you could do.

Bucky had long luxurious hair, the shoulder length locks had been his best feature much to your ex's jealous grumbling - Steve refused to grow his hair longer than it was - and because you knew that while the soldier could take a bullet without a grimace, a scalp would always be a soft spot.

You grabbed it.

Fingers curling into the silk softness, the hair band popping out as you yanked and screamed. The soldier swore and a new chaos of nurses jumping into the fray but you weren't letting go, this was a horse you were willing to die on and Bucky Barnes was your goddam steed!

Yank

You weren't letting go.

The bed collapsed beneath you and the hog pile atop you left you disoriented but someone put far too much pressure on your stomach and it was enough for you to release before you thought better of it.

Ripped off the man you screamed like a mad woman. You were fucking insane and you thrashed as you were carried across the room, dropped, then dragged outside where your voice echoed in the hall as you scream and threatened to murder them all.

You will.

You'd do it.

You've planned it since that stupid elevator ride with Clint.

The four nurses carried you into another room, it was dark until lights flickered to life and the door closed with a bang.

You quieted, your limbs stop their flailing, and your body was carefully lowered to the floor and one of the nurses rushed to get you a bottle of water that sat on the floor by the door. "You're fucking heavy." One of the nurses whispered as she stretched her arms.

"Fuck you." It was the only proper response for such a comment.

"Quiet." One of the other ladies shucked off her nurse uniform showing off leggings and a crop top and one of the other ladies removed her shoes and socks leaving her barefoot.

The barefoot one gave them a thumbs up and a whispered "Good luck." Before leaving.

You were grateful for this help, you didn't think you'd make this easy of an escape until you were told in the shower the plan. A plan apparently your brother was willing to help before cutting you off.

Favor for favor seeing as you kept SHIELD off his ass several times.

The three ladies were quick to rush you out of the stairwell a few floors down, they had led you to a service elevator and out to the loading dock and you were smuggled in a laundry truck.

You were free.

It was chaos.

Steve hovered over his friend who was scowling and rubbing his scalp with tears in his eyes. Bucky muttering under his breadth and Steve couldn't begrudge the threats and swears about you - it looked like you had pulled out more than just a few strands of hair.

Fury was livid.

Scowling and raging with a nurse as you had been carried out of the room for an evaluation. It was a precious few minutes of registering what had happened before Steve noticed it was quiet... too quiet.

He could feel something was wrong, there was that sense of doom, and it made his ear itch. His ear always itched when it came to you and it annoyed him.

"Where's my girl?" He rubbed his ear and approached the nurse whose glower matched Fury's.

"Who?"

"****." He says your full name, "Where did your staff take her?"

"She should be in psyche ward for evaluation." She says and Steve frowns.

"The Tower doesn't have a psyche ward." Rubbing at his scalp, Bucky pointed out and Fury drew himself up and Steve was gone, at least he tried to as the door was locked.

He was locked inside.

Shit.

Hand smacking on the door, the frame rattling, Steve turned and he was ready to rage but the nurse had taken a turn - her color paling and she had flung a hand out bracing herself against Fury who was there to catch her when she passed out.

The door was ripped off the hinges and with a bang hit the floor with one hard shove of Steve's shoulder. The heat hit him before the smoke had him coughing.

Someone had lit the short hall and nursing station on fire. It crept up the walls and ceilings, the fire system disabled and Steve had wanted to rush through the flames but someone had flung something through the flames and Steve didn't know what it was but he jumped back into the room before it smashed to the ground in a spray of glass and liquid before it caught on fire.

SMASH

The fire was spreading and the smoke curled into the room. "I'm too old for this shit." Fury says, "Take her."

With a sigh Bucky did, the woman over his shoulder and fortunately they made it out of the situation - they were trained to stay alive and move.

The sprinkler system never activated and it was a moment of chaos as the building was evacuated and fire fighters were called. Suffice to say Tony was very angry.

So angry in fact he removed the AI protecting your watch and showed Steve the security cameras of your escape. Steve had to grit his teeth when you stripped down in a hallways and swapped clothes in a room with several other men... it wasn't beach wear or a pair of your skimpy street clothes he loathed.

There was no record of the four woman who helped you escape.

The nurse who had passed out had been given a sedative as the woman didn't feel it but had notice a bruised injection sight on herself.

The laundry truck had been tracked and found abandoned and you had been last sighted entering a local pawn shop.

The watch fell with a plop on the table where Steve sat hunched over, an empty coffee cup unwilling to shrivel under the mans glare. "Open it."

"We'll find her." Natasha was currently tracking you down with the rest of the team before SHIELD found you.

"She's a flight risk with connections." Bucky flicked the watch with his vibranium hand and it slid across the table into Steve's lap where the blond picked it up and set back on the table away from him, "Open it before SHIELD gets their hand on it."

"I'm not..."

"Stuff it Steve. This new loyal spouse is bullshit, you fucked another bitch for a year, you went into the relationship on a lie, you weren't supposed to fall in love."

The chair scrapes as Steve stood and hissed, "I love ****."

"You love the idea of her. I told you to tell her the truth but you were too busy getting your dick wet with Sharon - you remember her right? The woman you had planned to marry after we put away ****?"

"Sharon was a mistake." Steve admits.

"A year long mistake? You fucked her before you broke up with her, you can't stand there and expect shit to piece itself together and **** to forgive you."

Angry, Steve smacked the mug off the table before both hands lean forward on the polished surface, both men ignoring the mug shattering. "It's none of your fucking business Buck."

"It is when it effects a mission."

"**** is mine, not a mission."

"She's not yours. She broke up with you, she tried to fucking kill you, if what Natasha says is right **** tried to get Nat to kill her."

"I know, don't you fucking think I don't know that! **** needs time and more therapy and it'll get better. We'll be happy again."

Bucky rolled his eyes before rubbing his face with his flesh hand, frustrated. "You're an idiot. A stupid, pig headed idiot. Your infatuation can get us killed!" Bucky held up a hand before the other man could explode, "**** is a beautiful woman. She's brilliant, kind, chattier than Sam on a good day but goddam Steve, she's fucking insane."

"**** is..."

"Not your type." Bucky finishes and there's a moment where no one breathes or moves. Those caught watching the show were quiet and still, afraid a move or loud inhale would bring attention to them.

Steve's knuckle taps on the table and he stands tall, taller than before. Resigned and sad all at once, "Sharon then?"

"Fuck no. Sharon was your consolation prize for Peggy." It makes Steve sigh before dragging his chair over and sitting with a slouch but Bucky wasn't done. "We found you a girl remember?" And Steve did remember.... Natasha and Bucky had found the perfect wife-to-be but Steve hadn't been interested no matter how well they clicked and Steve was knee deep in war related ptsd that it took until you came into his life to help himself versus the world. "But you said you weren't ready and she waited until you found Sharon and knew she was Peggy's niece. You broke it off and moved in with Sharon, then you stupidly fall for the girl who's the complete opposite of everything you swore you wanted."

"**** is everything and more Buck." Tired, Steve was tired and he wanted to be angry, anger was better than the hurt he knew sleeping beside empty sheets would bring. "Everything we ever talked about wanting in a dame"

If Bucky could get away with lifting the table and hitting his friend with it he would have. There was a reason why this table and in most conference rooms were bolted to the ground. "Sharon is willing to quit her job and stay home with as many kids you could handle."

"Really? Is that the way you're playing? That's fucking low and you know that. I can't have kids remember."

"This isn't the 40s punk, if a mini pre-serum you pops up they'll be fine." It was an age old argument.

"There's no guarantee the serum enhances my sperm. Short of **** willing to carry my baby we'll never know."

"Sharon is willing to be the mother of your kid."

"I don't want her, I want **** and she sure as fuck doesn't want kids. It's why I liked her, she's on a fucking cocktail of birth control to keep from getting knocked up. She doesn't trust my 'Captain America sperm'." Steve Air quoted the last words. "The last thing I need is a baby fucked up like I was."

"That's cold even for you."

"It's the goddam truth. If it wasn't for Erskine I would be dead before the winter after you left. Hell, maybe if I didn't agree to this," Steve gestures to himself, "You wouldn't be the Winter Soldier and be sitting in a nursing home somewhere."

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose and counts. It's a short round of numbers before he speaks, "I hate you."

"Get in line."

"Steve... Steve I hate to tell you this but **** deserves better than you. Trying to spin this like she's the problem isn't working so we'll go with honesty. You don't deserve someone who hands their life over on a goddam platter. **** invested herself into you and you broke her fucking heart and if we weren't friends I would have shot you in the foot a long time ago."

Steve makes to speak but once again Bucky lifts a hand and it's his Vibranium finger pointing at him, "You cheated." Second finger, "You lied." Third finger, "Had her Gynecologist insert a tracking device in her vag." Fourth finger, "You took advantage of her mental health and she went off the deep end that she tried to have Nat kill her." Hand out and all five fingers hung heavy in the air, "You knew about that lawyer and it fucked you over. Instead of her forgiving you and accepting you as her shield like the other two woman would, she ran away from you."

There it was.

Spoken in Russian and the words sounded harsh to his ears and it made him feel... God it made him feel dirty. Not a dirty you would have winked at him for but dirty. The type of dirty he went after... how did it all go wrong? It shouldn't have gone wrong and Steve couldn't be mad that Bucky had somehow found out what he had done. "Does everyone know?"

"I took care of it."

Which meant no one knew and Steve was relieved. He wasn't proud of what he had done, ruining any chance you had at your revenge and safety but Steve could protect you. He would protect you until his dying breadth and it was the best way to bring you back to him and to close the doors from your past that hung over you like an invisibility cloak. "I can't loose her." He admits and Steve can see how his words made the other man's jaw clench, how angry Bucky had become with just four words where there was indifference before.

"You already lost her." Getting shot was a pleasant alternative than hearing those words, "You owe her Steve, she has the whole of New York hunting her and those friends would run at the first sound of trouble." Bucky moved and reached for the watch, Steve eyeing the hand that picked it up and dangled it in front of his face. "We need to find her and save her from herself."

From herself... Steve knew from experience that your worst enemy was yourself. Your history with both your mental and physical well-being had ensnared Steve as much as it confused him.

You need him.

He grew to love how needy you were and it wasn't because he was Captain America but because he made a really good cup of tea, he could hum you to sleep, you needed him to hold you as tight as he dared, you needed him to make those voices in your head to shut up, you needed him to be in control and sometimes he allowed you to be in control, but you needed him because he loved how you were able to care for him and take care of him.

Steve had fallen not for your pretty face or your refreshingly crass tongue but you sewed a button on his shirt and baked him brownies from a box and fed him popcorn on those random date nights.

You let him bury himself to the hilt no matter the time or day.

You let him fuck you awake when his nightmares make him feel lost and alone.

You were a heathen and he fucking loved every minute of a world you opened to him.

The watch swings in his sight and before he could think too hard on him once again betraying your trust he takes the watch and unlocks it. Bucky holds out his hand expecting him to return it but Steve wants to know, he wants to be the first person to invade a private bubble he had no access to.

Bucky had expected the watch to be returned and if they were lucky a location to where you had run off to. What the soldier hadn't expected was for Steve's mouth to drop open in shock, genuine surprise, before a storm cloud of anger to come over the man before the watch was crushed in his hand.

"Grab Nat. I know where she is." And Steve is gone. Storming from the room and making those around them back themselves away from the storm cloud that was Captain America who took down another door, forgetting his strength.

Bucky was seriously considering retiring after this shit show was over.

To be continued HeRe

👀

#fanfiction #avengers #mirkysconcubinefiction #female reader #angst #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #angst with a happy ending #cheating #affair #kingpin daughter #just no series #captain america #captain america x reader #y/n #y/n x Steve rogers #sharon carter

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mirkysconcubinefiction · 2 years

Text

Pretty in the Brain

Pairing: Stucky x Reader (****)

Notes: Beautiful and Brilliant reader with touches of Angst and Depression.

Summary: They wanted you because you were pretty, esthetically pleasing, you just wanted to be left alone.

🌸🌸🌸HeRe🌸🌸🌸

#mirkysconcubinefiction #fanfiction #avengers #female reader #angst #stucky x reader #steve x reader x bucky #pretty in the brain #steve x bucky #sorry the muse died #reader bamf #reader insert #ofc #y/n x stucky #y/n

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mirkysconcubinefiction · 3 years

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Just No

Work In Progress

Pairing: Steve x Female Reader (Y/N = ****) past Steve x Sharon

Warning: Angst x Fluff x Happy Ending x asshole Steve x Suicidal Thoughts x 🔫 x mentions of Abortion x Mental Health x Dark Themes

Part 1 - HeRe

Part 2 - HeRe

Part 3 - HeRe

Part 4 - HeRe

Part 5 - HeRe

#fanfiction #avengers #mirkysconcubinefiction #female reader #angst #dark steve rogers #affair #cheating #kingpin daughter #steve rogers x reader #angst with a happy ending #just no series

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mirkysconcubinefiction · 2 years

Text

A Thought:

We all know Edward Cullen can read minds BUT of all the YEARS he's been stuck in high school he had to have sat next or near to that weird kid who read smut in class... be it raunchy romance novels, anime, or fanfiction, has he ever twitched? Frowned? Turned in his seat to gape?

Better yet, listened to the ramble of a smut author?

Full on scenes being built up, trashed, expanded, noted, scrapped, all while staring at the chalkboard...

Would he trail after someone like a lost puppy wanting to know how it ends?

Get lost in the building of a plot or chapters from another...

Random 7am thought on a Friday.

#a thought #mirkysconcubinefiction #edward cullen #fanfiction #plot bunny #smut

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mirkysconcubinefiction · 3 years

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Masterlist

■■ ■■ ■■

MirkysConcubineFiction Fictions are written for my enjoyment and to disassociate for reality.

Dark themes - angst - fluff - It's a bit raunchy and you're responsible for your own media consumption.

Reader Inserts are written as **** vs Y/N. It's easier for me. If you see **** it can imply first, last, middle, or whole name.

I do have an AO3.

I write Captain America, Winter Soldier. Harry Potter, Spiderman/Deadpool, Twilight, and I read so much more but ideas are always welcome :)

There's more... I just need to edit my shit and post vs angst over it so I can post the other shit I have saved up to torture the interested with.

😅 fun fact - I don't respond to reviews only cuz my porn account is my default apparently so it won't be mirkysconcubinefiction but ###. Fun times. Not ignoring you on purpose just awkward.

🖤🖤💝🖤🖤

■■ ■■ ■■

Steve Roger:

Just No - WIP

Notes: Angst x Fluff x Happy Ending x asshole Steve x Suicidal Thoughts x 🔫 x mentions of Abortion x Mental Health x Dark Themes

Story Here

I Thought You Should Know - Complete

Summary: A simple story of you (****) finding out that it was all a lie.

Excerpt: It was your fault really. Maybe those novels had fucked you up with hope and dreams.

Notes: Angst x Cheating x Affair x Drama x Suicidal Thoughts

Story - Here

Bucky Barnes:

You Know Series

Here

Pairings: Steve x Reader (past) • Bucky x Reader

Steve Roger had an affair and you run away only for Bucky Barnes to follow you. It's a interesting journey of stalking and falling in love while learning to accept each other as they were.

Warning: Affair x Dark Themes x Stalker x Questionable Reader x Angst x Fluff

Part 3 a WIP - under revision.

Kinda the Secretary

Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: You're undercover and Bucky knows you're there for him. He's wrong of course - you're there for a vacation.

Here

Affair

Stuff: Angst - Short - Betrayal - Toxic Family - Miscarriage Mentioned - Tears.

Summary: He had cheated and life isn't fair but time will do you justice.

Here

Petty - complete

Mafia!Bucky

Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Pregnancy, Domestic Abuse, Postpartum, Guns, Running Away, Swearing, Abandonment, Possessiveness, Divorce, Dark/Mob Themes.

HeRe

Stucky:

Beautifully Broken - Complete

Notes: Dark Themes x Mentions of Child Se*ual Abuse (no details) x Mental Health Issues x Suicidal Thoughts x Self Harm (not graphic) x asshole Steve Roger's x Pastel Goth design

Summary: She had been the odd one in the group. The interloper. A soldier that had been added to their group courtesy of a favor Steve would be the first one to admit he had been part of the problem with the team accepting her.

Story - Here

Executioner - Complete

Here

Pairing: Captain Hydra x Agent Reader x Winter Soldier. (Steve x Reader x Bucky)

Notes: Sex Pollen (kinda) x Dark Cast × Dubious Consent

Summary: "The mission is canceled." And with that both men left the training room with you none the wiser.

As and Agent for HYDRA a mission is a mission and an injury won't keep you from succeeding. Too bad you caught the eye of Captain HYDRA and the Winter Soldier.

They wanted you.

That's all that mattered.

Short and Sweet

Summary: You go on vacation... the boys are party poopers.

Here

No Goodbyes

A/B/O

Summary: They were you best friends turned lovers, they joined the military with promises to take you away too but they lied. Fuck them. On your own, successful, you meet them again and you hate that they won't just leave you the fuck alone!

Notes: Angst x Dark Themes x Omega to Beta transition x Toxic Family x Mention of Abortion x Kidnapping x Swearing x Major AU...

♡Chapters Posting Soon♡

Ch 1 - complete • Ch 2 - complete • Ch 3 - WIP

Pretty in the Brain

Notes: Beautiful and Brilliant reader with touches of Angst and Depression.

Summary: They wanted you because you were pretty, esthetically pleasing, you just wanted to be left alone.

HeRe

Other Pairings:

Trisum

Sam x reader x Bucky

Notes: Hella short.

Summary: How it all starts.

Here

Maurader

Peter Parker

Summary: Decisions are made. Actions have consequences and Peter doesn't consider himself a Hero anymore. He's a thief that defends his bounty.

Here

Quietly Jaded - WIP

Pairing: Omega!Peter/Alpha!Kingpin -- Omega!Peter\Avengers

Summary: Peter Parker is an Omega masquerading as a Beta. A story of student loans, Avengers wanting Spiderman, Avengers wanting Peter Parker for his Omega status, and Peter just done with them. He doesn't need them - he already has an Alpha. Not the best Alpha but... Well... Fuck.

Tags: Major AU, ABO world, Heats/Ruts, Drug Abuse, Dark Personalities, College Peter, Dubious Consent, more added later.

***UNDER HEAVY REVISION***

You Decide

SpideyPool

A/N: this is a 'What if Scenario'. Deadpool can either be a Grade A asshole or has been framed to appear as a Grade A asshole. You Decide.

Plot: Established Relationship. Peter has chosen TeamDeadpool and that comes with him breaking from the Avengers, specifically Tony. A message is sent to Peter and he has a breakdown.

Angsty, dark, depressing, suicidal breakdown.

In the end the Reader decides. Is this a Major Character Death fic or Angsty but not Dead (but almost) fic? Is Deadpool Guilty?

Here

Crossovers:

I Thought You Should Know - Complete

sequel

Crossover w/ Superman.

Complete - Here

Clark Kent x Reader x Lex Luthor - Lex Luthor x Clark

Notes: Angst with Happy Ending x affairs x Cheating x Exploitation of a Child (no details) x Dark Themes x Dark Steve Roger's

Summary: Time passes and you (****) come back to stir trouble, get even, and maybe move on to better options? A girl can dream right?

Drabbles and Plots:

Omega trope 1

Random: bucky/reader/Steve- omega reader - meh... if you can make it better @ me so I can read 🖤

HeRe

Plot Idea - sex pollen inspired.

Here

Plot Idea 2

Reader can jump through portals. Soulmate AU/ABO inspired. Stealing the Tesseract.

Here

Plot Idea 3

Peter Parker inspired.

Here

Plot Idea 4

*Mob! x Peter Parker*

Here

Omega Trope 2

*Alpha Stucky (Steve/Bucky)

Omega Reader (Dark BAMF)

Here

Original Fiction:

Cliffs Edge - Complete (for now)

Bedlamite (villain) x Reader

*not gender specific.

*death, carnage, suicidal themes, warlord fantasy theme, not betad, aaaand lust/obsession if you squint.

Summary: Bedlamite was his name, destruction his cause, Death his shield, and madness his armor. A Beast of a man with a thirst for blood and you had nearly been a casualty when his ship arrived and his troops had slaughtered your homeland.

HeRe

Monster

Warning: Dark, monster/cryptid, blood, illusions to abuse, running away, attempt at suicide by monster. Questionable ending.

Summary: when the monster in the woods isn't as scary as the monster chasing you. Better to be eaten than go back, right?

HeRe

#mirkysconcubinefiction #fanfiction #masterlist #master list

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mirkysconcubinefiction · 3 years

Text

Just No

💮4💮

{Part 1 HeRe ° Part 2 HeRe ° Part 3 HeRe}

Pairing: Steve x Female Reader (Y/N = ****) past Steve x Sharon

Warning: Angst x Fluff x Happy Ending x asshole Steve x Suicidal Thoughts x 🔫 x mentions of Abortion x Mental Health x Dark Themes

The gun sat heavy in your hand.

It was what you had to protect yourself and a burner phone.

No money.

No ID.

The pawn shop was quiet and you were hiding in the back with an off brand can of coke and stale chips. The women who helped you escape had left and you wished them well while one had told you "Congratulations." As if your situation warranted such a thing.

It didn't.

You were pregnant and the baby's father was a no good piece of shit, you truly believe there were no good men out there, and if there was they were gay.

It was better to give up men and be a full time lesbian or something... the gun thunks as you drop it on the table and lean back in your seat. You needed to think of a way out of here.

You could call for someone... use up saved bitcoins... but that was expensive. Starting over required money, alot of money.

A knock on the door interrupts your train of thought, "You can't stay here for long." The shop owner was an older gentleman and you agreed.

"I know."

"I was told to give you this." And he plops a bookbag down that had been in his hand, you hadn't paid it no mind.

He leaves and your curiosity wins you over. "Well... shit..." it was money. Money and a change of clothes with a dollar tree wig, baseball hat, and glasses.

It wasn't just a stack of 20's but thick rubber band piles of cash that you felt confident would take you to where you had to go and as you rummaged through the front pocket you found a brand new passport with a bus ticket to Toronto Canada.

It made you sit heavy in the chair and you blamed hormones when your eyes got misty. God how did shit get so fucked you were stuck going to Canada? The ticket was for the next day and you needed at least two... maybe three... you weren't sure, to recover.

Dam your anemia... this would have been easier if you could gave taken a few pills to abort versus the chair.

The burner phone had 500 minutes and you used several to hail a cab. The sooner you got what you needed done the better.

Night had fallen on the bustling state that was New York. Little words were spoken as Steve, a storm cloud of aggression, paced. He had been wrong - you weren't where you and the doctor had made plans. The veterinarian clinic of all places had been empty save for cages of sleeping cats, the Diner uptown with it's questionable basement of questionable medical equipment had been empty as well. The doctors home only housed his pregnant wife who threw a frying pan at Steve and cussed him out in her native language.

It was frustrating.

It was maddening.

Steve wouldn't tell them why he was desperate to find you, they didn't need to know, except for Tony. Tony had sighed and while he was very upset over his burned down medical ward he helped Steve find you. Tracking the phone of the doctor to a a broken part of New York that was right off the water and what smelled like the city dump.

A van had been the only sign of life and Steve... well Steve was cursing. Muttering under his breadth and crushing rocks in his hands at the mere thought you were stupid enough to not only get that thing done but here.

Here!

Rust and rubble, charred remains of a warehouse, drug den, it could have been a whore house for all he cared - it was dilapidated and unsanitary.

You were willing to kill yourself with a basement abortion, catch an infection, die of sepsis, all because you were carrying his child.

His.

That baby was his.

Put there by him.

It was his seed that connected with your egg and created life.

No matter how much he fucked up, you shouldn't take it out on his unborn baby, put there when there was nothing but love in his heart. He didn't want kids... less it was with you.

Steve had never felt more like a failure of being a man than he did when it all came together in his head and his actions caused you to do something so permanent, something atrocious, it made his heart ache and the urge to curl in a corner and cry was strong.

"It's clear." Someone says, they had brought in infrared devices and drones to enter first. Everyone presumed you were hold up to get away from Kingpin, they didn't want to be caught unaware if the bastard had found you, and Steve didn't correct them but he did jump into action.

His boots were heavy on the gravel, gun in hand, his shield left behind, and his com was disconnected. The layout of the warehouse was simple but Steve didn't need instructions when he could follow his nose.

The scent of your cheap Bodega spritz lingered in the air and he was grateful you had made a mistake in buying it - further proving you needed him.

You needed him.

You need him.

Grateful for cash you could have cried when you were forced to jump from one location to another. Several different cabs to several different places because the doctor doing your procedure was paranoid. You couldn't fault him, you weren't concerned about your ex father but the man you occasionally called daddy.

Steve Roger's had a kink list a mile wide and you would take your gold sticker of excellence for bringing it out of the stuffy asshole.

You missed him.

You were hurting and you wanted him to hug you but he was the cause of your problems. His lies and infidelity brought you here - a dilapidated warehouse on the shore of the New York sound where low tide was stink tide and you were fucking petrified of dying from a botched job but who would think to find you out by the Atlantic for an abortion?

God... you were getting an abortion.

It sure as hell felt like you were living the prohibition horror story with an illegal procedure... you had a bottle of CIROC in your bookbag, waiting for you to chug it after this was all said and done.

"Ready?" The good ole doctor - husband to a friend you knew quite well said where he had set up a portable gynecologist exam table. It was pink. A pink foldable thing with stirrups... you definitely needed a bigger bottle of liquor to deal with your decision to kill a bundle of cells.

"No." But you hopped on the chair, your bare lower half flashing the empty space.

The doctor wasn't the quiet type and you weren't sure if you should be grateful as the man chattered away... he was going to be a father... of course this wasn't weird... the man had performed countless abortions over the years, you having recommended many woman to him... you flinch when the speculum is inserted and the stretch is uncomfortable.

The man had the grace to warn you as he rambled while a soapy gauze cleans your vagina and you squeeze your eyes shut when his fingers puts a goop around your girly bits to numb it.

Oh god.

You wipe your tears away and pray hoping your mother wouldn't be too disappointed and she would be there when your baby greets her... was it a boy or a girl?

No.

You wouldn't think about it.

Sniffling, you wished you had that bottle to sip from, "Doc can you pass me the Vodka?" Your eyes open and look between your legs because the man had pulled away to do something but instead of seeing an almost balding gentleman you see an empty space and fucking Steve Roger's strangling the doctor.

It makes you jump, swear, and scramble to get off the dam table or at least you try with something shoved up your cooch... your hands shake as you try to dislodge it but it fucking hurts, "Steve! Captain!" You corrected yourself, "What the fuck - let him - go!" A small folding table toppled as you reached for your jacket that you used to try and cover your spread open lady bits.

"You waxed?" Of course Steve says it with a frowny face as his arm extends so the man had a harder time kicking him.

Of course the fucker would notice that. "STEVEN GRANT MOTHER-FUCKING-ROGERS!" you seethe as you shift on the table trying to relieve the pressure of that stupid speculum still stuck inside you. "Let him go or so help me I will shoot you in the fucking head!"

"How could you..." Steve has a speech prepared, he expected it but seeing a man hunched between your legs and things opening you wide, he forgot about his plans and acted.

"Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up!" Your voice echoes and you don't care. "I need him to finish!"

"What you need is a god dam shrink!"

"And you need to be castrated with a dull rusted butter knife!"

Bucky really - really - wasn't paid to deal with this. Shooing SHIELD soldiers away he took a moment to self reflect his life choices since escaping HYDRA. He should have stayed tending to his goats... God they were less trouble than Steve.

Walking into the dirty space he came close to turning on his heels and walking away... seeing his best friends ex girlfriend half naked, feet in stirrups, screaming obscenities, and Steve dangling a doctor by the throat, wasn't what he expected to walk into.

He didn't get it.

What was happening?

"Enough!" His voice carried and you were left red in the face at the sight of him standing there in tactical gear. "Steve, you're killing him."

"Good! He deserves it!"

"You deserve..." but you didn't get to finish it because Bucky was storming over, his feet stomping on the ground, and you watched as the soldier gripped Steve's wrist and squeezed. Words escaped you because it was the vibranium hand that could do a serious amount of damage, thankfully Steve let the doctor go and you settled back in your seat, hands on your face, willing for this all to be a sick dream.

The guy coughed and sputtered, he tried to sit up but flopped back down. "The entire building is surrounded are you really going to leave **** laying there for everyone to see? **** clearly needs a fucking doctor and you're..."

"She's trying to kill my baby Buck." Steve interrupts.

Bucky goes still, his eyes widening.

"It's not your baby you dramatic cock sucking whore!" You shouted, a last ditch effort to fix the mess.

"That's my kid you're trying to murder!" Steve tries to move forward but Bucky's vibranium hand smacks him right on his chest.

"Don't act like you fucking care all of a sudden." You're tired and that thing inside was pinching. "It's my uterus, you don't get a say with what I do with my eggs."

"That's my sperm! A part of me is in there creating life. You can't snuff that out because you're mad at me!"

Bucky eye's his friend, it's not a nice look.

"Mad?" You sit up, "You think I'm mad? Oh no sweetheart I'm fucking livid. I'm enraged. I'm fucking shattered! I would never put life on this shitty planet knowing that sperm belonged to someone like you!"

There was more you wanted to say, you were gearing up for it, you didn't expect for Bucky to rear back and punch Steve square in the face, knocking the taller man down. "Stay down!" He barked, his voice echoing. "And you." He moved quick, picking up the doctor right off the floor and taking the man to you. Plopping him right in a chair and with one hand on the shaking man's shoulder leaned in - "Fix her."

"No!" Steve scrambled to his feet but Bucky was there, grabbing his wide eyed friend and tossing him into a wall that crumbled.

"****," he takes a deep breadth before looking over at you - looking surprised over what happened - and he points a finger at you before dropping his hand, "This isn't the place to do what you're thinking of." His tone changed to one of concern, "I'm taking you back to SHIELD..."

"No!"

"Yes! The city is on lockdown with both SHIELD and your father's goons. Where did you think you were going? That shit takes a toll on the body."

"Bus." It was as far as you were admitting.

"They're grounded. Planes are delayed, your face is on the news, there's a bounty on your head, they want you dead and your head brought to him. No arguing, once the doctor fixes that," he gestures to the jacket that hides your lady bits and the contraption spreading you wide. "You're staying with me."

"I'm not keeping it." You're adament no matter how much it hurts.

"Your choice doll but you're better than a basement abortion, this isn't the 30s." Bucky turns his back, "Get to it doc. I'll take care of Captain America."

You'd like to say it ends there.

Bucky turning his back, you and the doctor running off, fighting past SHIELD, crossing a boarder and you starting over...

When you're finally able to close your legs and stand Bucky is there with your pants and his gaze watching you. Not in a weird way but like he knows you'd do a runner which you would. He waits until your pants are slid on before he's there to pick you up like you were some damsel in distress, "Stay still." And you do.

You should fight him off, after everything you did to get here, you allow him to carry you away while a scowling ex boyfriend trails behind you with a bruised face. "I'm tired." You admit and stay in his hold.

"I know. You're staying with me, not Steve." There's a helicopter outside and no one dares to take you from him - even a scowling Fury who arrived on scene and demanded for you to be handed over.

Plans changed and staying with SHIELD or the Tower wasn't an option. You didn't look too deep into it.

Staying with Bucky involved living in a box. The man lived like a bachelor frat boy with 600 square feet of questionable space. It reminded you of your first apartment and his mattress was on the floor tucked in a corner away from a door that had a slip cover and one pillow with a folded blanket.

A two seater couch.

A television.

One closet.

And a tiny bathroom with a leaky faucet.

"You can take the bed." He says as he plops on the couch and sighs, relaxing into the cushions. "Grab me a beer." The television switches on and it's a commercial.

"Jesus Christ Bucky we're not staying here."

"I said you're staying with me, don't be such a princess."

"My place has better security." You had tried to convince the man to make a detour after being dropped off by SHIELD.

"Your place is the Marriott. A hotel isn't better."

"The building beside the Marriott." You resisted the urge to stomp your foot.

"If it was so good why didn't you hucker down there?"

"My intent wasn't to stay in the city but since you're holding me hostage..."

"You have no friends ****. They would sell you out." With a sigh Bucky gets up to get his own beer, "After what happened at the warehouse would anyone hide you away with both your father and SHIELD after you?" There was a shelf dedicated to beer and another to liqour, he pulls out two bottles, opening both with a flick of his vibranium thumb, and handing you one. "Your persona non grata."

It cuts deep.

To know that all your connections, those tethers of friendship was so easily snipped. After all you've done... helped... you chin tilts up, you won't let him see you hurt. It was bad enough he saw you at your most vulnerable. "My place is more secure than newspaper on the fucking windows."

"Doll," he takes a swig, "You're safe here. With me. I'm the Winter Soldier."

"And I'm **** Fisk."

"No you're ****." He speaks your mother's maiden name and that's another ping against your bandaged armor. "Kingpin never signed your birth certificate."

"You're right," you step closer, heart beating heavily in your chest. "My name is ****, my mother was ****. I built myself from the ground up and if you think a bounty on my head could ruin everything you're not thinking with the right head."

"Your safe houses are gone."

Your lip quirks up.

"Your friends and associates abandoned you."

"Don't be so melodramatic James." The beer is heavy in your hand and you lift it to your lips, "I learned long ago to never show all my hands." You took a healthy swig with Bucky's gaze leveled with yours, "And a few days ago to never trust anyone. Ever."

"There's no where to go. SHIELD took everything and your father has taken down a few of your associates too, you have nothing and no one right now but me and the team."

The beer was cool and refreshing. It soothed the hunger in you stomach and you pushed away the welling of guilt - the pregnancy wasn't viable, you weren't keeping it, you could have a beer. "I remember once where I truly believed that." You admit, "I had no one, no home, no name. I don't need you or the team."

"Better me or SHIELD."

"Better dead." Bucky makes to respond but he presses his lips tightly together and shakes his head. He turns away from you and you know that you wouldn't make it passed the door if you tried to run, "Dammit James listen to me!"

"I don't listen to crazy." And he plops in his chair.

"You're not fucking immortal or omnipotent."

"Sit down and take a nap." He changes the channel on the screen and you want to fling the beer bottle at his head.

"You know what, no. No!" You March to stand in front of him and you ignore his eye roll. "Why are you acting like you hopped on your fucking cycle? Do you need chocolate? Aspirin? I can buy you a fucking tampon and a clue but we can't stay here."

"Excuse me?" He looks at you dumbfounded.

"You're excused. Blame it on your hormones or the full moon but you're not allowed to dismiss me or my concerns like I wasn't part of the team!"

"Jesus christ ****..."

"Shut up! Quiet! Shhh." The man scowls when you shush him, "Sit there and fucking listen for once or is that too complicated once you sit down?"

"Are you done with your tantrum? I'm missing my show."

You pull yourself up from your hunched angry stance to stand tall, fingers tighten around the neck of the bottle, the urge to fling it at the television was strong, "You can be content to sit here and die James..."

He tosses his head back, "I should have left you with Natasha."

"Natasha is a smart woman she would listen to me." You toss the bottle at him and he catches it, the empty glass clicks against the prosthetic. "Pretend I'm not the ex of your best friend. Forget knowing me as Tony's underwing, I was never part of the team, we just met. Think of me not as a damsel in need of saving but someone who knows what the fuck they're saying. You think you know..."

You held up a hand to keep the man from interrupting.

"No one knows my father better than me. Not his wife, my brother, no one knows just how fucked up he is in the head and the connections he has." Again Bucky tries to interrupt, "No! I didn't survive this long just to have everything taken from me by some upstart burglar and stupid attorney! SHIELD can take my safe houses, they can raid my property, battle over my assets, but you sure as fuck can't tell me that there isn't a snitch in your SWAT, you can't sit pretty and not know that your illegal apartment wouldn't last a minute under a swarm of locust that belong to that miserable asshole!

I could have gotten out but nooo. Of course Steve Roger's has to involve himself and fuck everything up and if you would just fucking listen to me, god Bucky I know people who could kill you, those people work for him and are probably on their fucking way."

"****..."

"No! It's not **** talking but Safari. The bitch who took care of the bastards online operation, the fucking queen pin of the Silk Road. Don't you dare think for one fucking second I have no fucking options, don't you dare sit pretty and think I'm just a cute face with a nice ass, now we have no choice but to do this the hard way. We're going to call my cab driver, then we're driving to my building, then we're hunkering down until I can hire someone to get me out of this country!"

"****..."

"I swear to god if you tell me to calm down or fucking breathe I will jab that bottle so far up your ass you'll whistle the national fucking anthem!"

Bucky held up both hands, "SHIELD has security camped outside."

"One of them is a snake." You point out.

He had the audacity to roll his eyes, "Not everything is..."

"Not everyone is a loyal dog to SHIELD."

"Fine, fine," Bucky gets up and pushes passed you, "Fine! I'll prove to you that you're being dramatic." He brings a firearm with him, door half opened he glares at you, "Run and I will turn you over my knee ****."

"Promise?"

The door slams behind him and you hear the lock turn and you're tempted to just make a run for it for kicks but you're utterly exhausted... and hungry.

The refrigerator is lacking anything beyond liqour and a mustard bottle. The freezer was packed with TV dinners. It was better than nothing, except he didn't have a microwave.

Great.

Just... great.

BOOM

You crouch and cover your head when Bucky flys through the door, there's a rush of gunfire and you swear as you try and flatten yourself on the ground.

There's grunts, shouts, more gunfire, the sound of someone choking, then quiet... dust floats in the air and there's a scream in the distance. The world isn't so quiet as the apartment building comes to life with chaos.

Your picked up by your jacket and it's Bucky. The man looks you over with worry in his face, "Are you okay?"

"I told you." You couldn't resist pointing it out and that concern melted to frustration.

"Not now." He takes you by the arm and you're dragged from the apartment, over bodies, over pooling blood and debri. "We're going to SHIELD."

"No!"

His shoulder hits the door to the stairwell and it pushes open, he doesn't notice the red but you do, so you shove the heavy man back and it happens fast - the door revealing a familiar woman, the red of her costume a signature, her dark eyes were on you as she shoved aside Bucky, dismissing the man on the ground - running was instinct.

You ignore your name being called and you took a chance when a nosy neighbor had peeked out - they were wide eyed with fright and they screamed when you shoved into them - they had given you a way to escape. You didn't have time to apologize for knocking into them, too busy not to get hit by throwing stars.

Fucking crazy assassins.

At least this one was human and you managed to shut the door with shaky hands and turn the lock on the door.

A dagger pierced the door.

Ignoring the scrambling man on the ground and the banging on the door - no doubt a foot or shoulder - you looked around and in the kitchen there was an old phone on the wall... it was disconnected, a useless wall decoration. "Phone?" You hurry over to where the man was attempting to hide in the coat closet that was packed with stuff that now littered the floor. Grabbing him by his sleeve you yanked, he fell at your feet and huddled, crying and begging.

You didn't have time for this.

Squatting, your fingers curled around his throat, nails digging into the wrinkled flesh, but it shut the man up. "Phone or I will use you as a shield." Your fingers squeeze, his watery eyes widening and his face straining... you let him go.

The commotion outside the door reached a destructive level. You could hear Bucky's muffled voice and then a scream.

"Ch...chair..." the man gasped.

Chair?

Standing you took note he was pointing in the direction of the living area where it was heavily furnished with nick nacks, furniture, and stuff lining walls. On a TV dinner tray was a cell phone, thankfully unlocked. Quickly you dialed a number... again... again... again... each time ringing and disconnecting... again... and it connects but you don't expect pleasantries - "Double the escort fees I need a driver from address asap. Heavy artillery leaves you with a juicy tip."

"Who's this?"

"Aye papi you forgot all about me?" You mock sigh, "Canadian power grid."

"Safari... they looking for you girl."

No shit, "Five minutes?"

"Double the amount on your head and in three."

"Done. Three minutes." You don't bother to disconnect when the phone is plucked out of your hand and crushed by Bucky's who's glaring, a deep furrowed brow that made him look intimidating. "You're alive, mazel tov!"

"No thanks to you."

"I'm human, you're the Goliath, you got the jump on her though right?" You smile and he scowls. "Is she dead?"

"No."

"Good - she makes great conversation."

"****!" And you jump because this time he looks angry. Not annoyed but angry. He stalks closer and you back into the love seat. "What games are you playing Safari?" Straightening yourself because you feared no one he interrupts, "Who was that woman?"

"Elektra, she belongs to daddy dearest."

His lips press tightly. "She called you sister."

"Do we look like blood James?"

"And your brother?"

"You can't listen to that bitch James, she mind fucks for shits and giggles."

He leans in and you really hate how it made a tingle of unease crawl up your spine, "We thought you had connections inside Stark's company but it was your brother who bailed you out. He's the one who gave you that money..."

"And?" It worried you that if Elektra knew then your father knew, God you hoped your brother was alright.

"What fucking games are you playing? If SHIELD gets so much of a whiff that you're working with him... Intel showed you were on the right path, do you know how hard we had to work to keep you from getting locked up?"

"You mean the intel from my phone being hacked and that tracker chip your best fucking friend had inserted along with my IUD?" Your head tilts to the side, "Thought I didn't know?"

"You admit this was all a show? I thought I knew you but you're nothing but a two faced liar, SHIELD was right. You are your father."

"Fucking hilarious, the only show man is your friend. He chased after me," you poke him in the chest, "I pushed him to go back to Sharon." It pained you to admit. "I encouraged him to get help for his ptsd, I laid my soul out for him and there was nothing scripted about it from me. So this conversation, turn it around to the man child who should be the one chased out of the city and also Fuck You!"

You shove at him but Bucky grabs your wrists and squeezes, "Steve fucked up and fell in love with you, he's a dick but he did his job, but you're worse. I see it now, you played him, you played all of us to feel pitty..."

God you hate men, "Wrong again but go ahead and play the victim card. You men are good at it..."

"Are you even pregnant? Was this all a ploy ****?"

Did he really believe... yes, the asshole really believed this was all fake. Finding you with a speculum up your cooch was just for show. Fucking idiot.

"Yes." He squeezes harder and you tilt your chin up, "I faked every emotion, every step I took was just to get close to everyone so I could take down my father, I'm such a heartless bitch that I would fake a baby, stage an abortion, loose everything I built, every fucking move I made were deliberate steps to fuck with you and your delicate sensibilities because of course someone like me can't dream of a fairytale happily ever after. A fucking street rat birthed by a whore could never want a wedding on the fucking beach, a stupid cupcake tower, I could never dream of fireworks, and a fucking white dress, it's all fake because it has to be!"

"You're crying." He points out stupidly.

"Fake. All fake. You're right James, I played everyone, worse I played myself. I stupidly believed my education was worth Tony fucking Stark's time. I believed that I could make real friends, I believed I could change and build a life for myself after I kill my father. Stupidly thought not all men were the same, like that old saying goes - you can't make a whore into a house wife but, big but, you can't make a misogynistic - putrid - good-for-nothing - lieing - cheating - two faced - asshole into a husband let alone a father."

"I'm all for the angst, best Jerry Springer show, but we got to go."

Bucky whirls around making sure you're behind him but you could easily look around him and to a man you've dealt with over the years and at this moment happy to see, "Hey Wade."

"Princess." And he does a dramatic bow. "Got a message from Weasel." He whistles, "Serious amount of money I will enjoy spending. Who is this dangerously handsome man?"

"James."

"Name's White Wolf." Bucky corrects.

"Sweet spice girl tits you're the Winter Soldier!" He all but gushes before tiptoeing closer, "Nice to meet another fucked in the head soldier, I'll be the treasurer and you the..." Bucky didn't flinch when a bullet went through Deadpool's head and the man crumpled dead.

"Goddammit." You swore - couldn't you catch a break - before your gaze swiveled to the asshole standing at the threshold. "He was my ride Roger's."

"He's an assassin here to kill you, you should thank me."

"I paid for him, he's my assassin. His name is Deadpool, "

"Christe, I hate my life." Bucky mumbled before walking away, "Both of you shut up. We need to get out of here before that, whatever that is, wakes up."

You cross your arms, "I'm waiting for my ride."

"It's downstairs, Natasha is..." Steve tries but he's interrupted by an annoyed Bucky who interrupts.

"Better have two vehicles you're not riding with us."

"Come on!" Steve gestures to the dead man, "I saved you from crazy, I deserve to ride in the same car!"

"That's not crazy, that's insanity, that is crazy." He points to you and you roll your eyes. "She's the one who called on that, whatever that is."

"I'm a goddess!" Deadpool rolls over, an arm extending upward and he holds up a fist you fist bump before he flops his arm on the ground, "Disney princess."

"How long before the princess is up?" Nudging him with your toe you ignore the two men.

"Kiss it better for me princess."

"No! No kissing!" Steve jumps in, "I'll shoot you!"

Deadpool sits up with a groan, "Foreplay Captain."

"Keep me from these two and I'll kiss all your boo-boo's." You promise.

"What? No!" Steve looks to Bucky as if for assistance and the man rolls his eyes.

Deadpool stands and presses himself against you, his mask eyes bouncing up and down, "I'm one big bruise."

And because Steve was standing there you glance down, "Oh I know."

Bucky was quick to step in front of his delusional friend, quickly taking the gun, Deadpool eyes the rustle before side eyeing you, "Trouble in paradise?" He mutters.

"Long cheating story."

The shift in demeanor shouldn't be noticeable since the mercenary was wearing a full body suit but you felt it as much as you watched him stand just a fraction taller, his muscles flexed, fingers clenching and unclenching, the mirth of a moment earlier bled leaving you worried... you shouldn't be worried... Steve Roger's was no longer your concern.

"Captain America." Deadpool was quick, it made you jump, Bucky shoved Steve, a katana lodging into the refrigerator instead of the gaping hero. "I'm ashamed I'm wearing your tighty whities. **** go out the window, someone's there to catch you."

"I'm a big girl, no one's catching me this high up."

"To move along the plot and to keep it dramatic the author of this fairytale insists you jump out a window." He shrugs, "I'm here as your imaginary friend."

"For fucks sake..." the weirdness was strong around the man. "Which one?"

A rock flies through a window, "That one." He points out and with a sigh you make your way to it, ignoring the broken glass and the fighting behind you. The window easily shimmied up and peeking down you see a slew of police vehicles, SHIELD vehicles, and you hear it - propellers. A ladder unfolds and swings in front of you like a pendulum.

Stay or go.

You choose go.

It's an awkward jump from the windowsill and you clinging to the rope ladder before the wind whips around you and you're flying through the air and the ladder dragged upwards.

To be continued HeRe

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A/N: Don't ask me where Deadpool came from. I had a plot, a timeline, and THIS happens. 🤦‍♀️ possibly 1 more chapter, cross fingers 🖤

#mirkysconcubinefiction #fanfiction #avengers #fanfic #female reader #angst #steve rogers x reader #angst with a happy ending #cheating #just no series #kingping daughter

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mirkysconcubinefiction · 3 years

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Omega Trope 2

👋 a thought that came to me :) if it interests you then please tag so I can invest a pie e of my soul into a good read 🖤

Stucky - Alpha's

Reader - Omega (Dark BAMF)

💋

The first time they saw you it was with a gun in your hand, Jimmy Choo stilettos, a powdery blue business suit, and a sheer lace corset that hid little. Your jacket was open allowing you better movement and it was the red nails with crystals catching the light of the sun.

You had stood tall and unbothered.

An enemy was an enemy, your looks shouldn't have distracted them, but it did.

Your lips were glossy and your smile revealed a glint of diamonds - it was the first time they had ever seen grillz and it being on a woman was interesting.

You were flanked with an army ready to lay their lives for you - who were you? Intel had little and even the AI brought nothing of value up.

No name.

No social media.

Then you were gone.

Mingled with the gun powder and death was a titillating scent of vanilla and coconut butter that did little to hide a startling fact.

Omega.

#alpha stucky #omega reader #fiction #dark!stucky #mirkysconcubinefiction #fanfiction #female reader #avengers #dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #plot bunny #fic ideas

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mirkysconcubinefiction · 3 years

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Just No

Part 1 of ?

Pairing: Steve x Female Reader (Y/N = ****) past Steve x Sharon

Warning: Angst x Fluff x Happy Ending x asshole Steve x Suicidal Thoughts x 🔫 x mentions of Abortion x Mental Health x Dark Themes

It was a surprise.

Her eyes were red and puffy compared to your own dry but sad.

Her heart was broken, yours was shattered.

She was grief stricken but you... you felt like you were dying.

Only one there to see you quietly lose your hopes and dreams was Clint. The man had been walking and waving about ready to call out to you when you put a finger to your lips and hush him.

As a man married with kids and a spy he took in your posture and expression and walked on quiet feet to stand on the opposite side of the doorway.

"**** hasn't been to Hell's Kitchen in 6 months." Fury's voice carries.

Steve sighs, "**** goes there for dam tacos. The restaurant was burned down six months ago. Can we move on from..."

"Can you Steven?" It was Sharon, "Two years I've been waiting."

"I told you a year ago we were through."

"As riveting as this moment is we're here to discuss **** not your failing relationship."

"There isn't..."

"That's not what you said last week!" Sharon slammed her hands on the table, "You said you loved me."

You inhale deeply and exhale the desire to put a bullet in both their heads knowing Fury was on a video call. Across from you Clint frowned but you didn't care.

"I said I loved you, past tense. Loved. I'm in love with ****."

"The bitch you were assigned to get close to? The bitch who didn't take any other bait but you of all people?"

"She loves me."

"No. I love you. I did everything for you, I gave up promotions for you, I gave up my time and energy for you, I've forgiven you for fucking another bitch and you have the gall to sit there and tell me you fell in love with an assignment? She's the bastard child to Kingpin, she doesn't love you. She wants you in her pocket."

"We were wrong, I was wrong, about everything." Steve tries.

"No. We have confirmation **** has been seen in the same circles as her father. The man is a menace..."

"He wants nothing to do with her." Steve interrupts the man on the giant television screen.

"So you say."

"Sharon..."

"Don't!"

"You're my ex, **** is my girlfriend and I love her. She's not a international arms dealer or drug lord, she has no underground ties with her bastard father."

Fury scoffed, "She's seen coming and going from Fisk Tower."

"She has contact with her brother."

"Who is on the same path as his father Steve. Two years and we've come no closer..."

"**** isn't a national or local threat. Your intel was wrong." Steve defended, "She's a beautiful and kind..."

"Oh please!" Sharon snaps, "**** is responsible for the Underground Rail Smuggling. Remember that Steven? Using the homeless as mules and shipping drugs through the subway system?"

"That was her brother."

"No. That was your precious girlfriend."

"Sharon is correct. **** was responsible for that fiasco. She didn't bribe those people or strap the drugs on the roof but she orchestrated it, controlled those trains, knocked out power and caused the city to shut it's system down for 24 hours."

"Her brother..." Steve tries, exasperated.

"Break up and let some one else do their job." You could hear the hope in her voice, the anger of earlier snuffed and her shoes scuffed on the floor no doubt getting closer to the super soldier. "Steven please. She's a witch, this isn't you. You know she's a horrible person, she's using you just like you're using her."

"I'm not..."

"Look at her Steven. You can't make someone like that into a house wife. Someone like that doesn't have it in them to be a mother, if she's not working under Tony she's trying to work under someone and we all know her track record."

"You're no saint. Slut shaming is sexism and you wouldn't say the same about Natasha or Pepper?"

"Of course not but **** isn't like them."

"You're right, **** isn't like them. She's better than you at least."

*smack*

You could hear Fury sigh in the distance, "Children please, this lover's quarrel will not happen in my presence. Steve you are removed from this assignment and another agent will be assigned, someone like Natasha."

"No."

"Dropping her from SHIELDs Wanted List would see her let go from her job, she was hired to keep her close, you know this."

"Tony wouldn't let that happen."

"Leave Tony to me. He knew the rules when she was brought to the team."

"Sir!"

"Break up with her Captain, she's not someone worth fighting over."

It shouldn't have hurt.

You've heard it countless times.

You jump when a hand grips your arm and you nearly stumble when you're dragged away and it was Clint with his quick feet, it's Clint who pulls something out of his pocket and flings it at Steve who shouted their names as the soldier tried rushing to them, it's Clint who drags you to the elevator leaving behind Steve who crumpled to the ground as he was electrocuted and Sharon to hover.

"FRIDAY lock the floor."

Yes Sir.

It's Clint who pulls you close and hugs you. Clint who rocks you gently and tells you, you were worth more than the riches of earth and there was more but you couldn't hear the rest, too stuck in your own mental head space and the burn in your chest made it so hard to keep it in.

Your lip trembled and you sniffed, you had to hold it back, you couldn't cry.

"Shhh... let it out."

No.

Your arms move to hold him less your knees give out, your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, tears escape you and you hate yourself for them but you can't pull them back.

"Shhh... I got you."

Lies.

Everyone lies to you.

Hiding your face you can't fight back the whine that escapes you. Your shoulders shake and your breadth hitches as you try and breathe through the pain.

God it hurts.

You'd built this bubble of comfort and security... and it was a lie. It was all a lie. The friendships you allowed yourself to cultivate were lies.

Lies.

Your body stills, you feel numb and hot. Your head hurts, your eyes itch to cry more, but you stand there like a statue, your hands at your side until Clint pulls away. The space allows you to take a step back and wipe your face and nose with your sleeve. "Sorry." It tumbles out as you sniff your snot, "Shouldn't have lost it."

"****?"

"I'm good. We're good." He watches you pull yourself together, you face is dry, but your eyes are red and face flushed.

"You're not."

He was right but you weren'tgoing to admit that to someone culpable to your misery. "FRIDAY, take me to the lobby."

Yes, Miss.

The elevator moves and Clint hovers as you fix your hair in the reflection. Not a word is exchanged until the doors to the elevator open, "Goodbye." You nod and step off.

Clint is sure he'll never see you again.

Home was an apartment close to the Tower. Home had a helicopter pad on the roof, home was the penthouse with two floors and a handful of neighbors below.

You had moved in a year and two days after meeting.

Sharon and Steve had broken up a year into your relationship with him.

A year.

God had you been a fool.

Exposed brick, pipes, and hard wood floor complimented the aged kitchen appliances and furniture. Custom made to replace the modern ones - it had been your gift to the home.

The quiet did nothing to quell your headache, it just made your heart hurt because it's what you had to look forward to. No more old songs from the record player, no more game nights for the boys, no more impromptu dances with the man you thought you'd married, no more midnight fridge raids.

Out of spite you dumped the cartons of ice cream into the sink. Hopefully they attracted roaches, a swarm of roaches, ants, and rats.

The master bedroom had a massive bed with sturdy furniture and a bathroom worth dying over. You didn't need the clothes in your walk-in closet, you didn't need the color organized shoes, you didn't need the extensive jewelry collection that hung from decorative branches, showing off silver and gold. What you needed was hidden behind your diploma on the wall, a space of pride alongside other accomplishments.

You heard the door open and close, someone wanted you to hear as your shaking hands worked the knob of the safe. Shoes weren't quiet as they walked up the stairs leading to you.

Finally you managed to open the safe.

What you did need was your passport, all the important papers, your safety deposit box keys, cards to your banks, and your mother's photo. It made you pause for a moment, ignoring whoever was in the room with you.

Your mom... the woman who raised you until she was murdered. Then you raised yourself, fended for yourself, your sperm donor closing doors in your face, but you persisted.

You'd gotten right in the head, graduated, gotten a job, an apartment the size of the bathroom, but you succeeded with no one but yourself.

Kissing the only photo you had left you slipped it into your bra and turned to see Natasha standing there watching you. "Here to kill me?"

She shook her head, "No. Clint asked me to look out for you."

"Tell him I'm ok and thank you but you can leave." You weren't in the mood for conversation. Walking into your closet you ignored how her hand moved to her gun, it was a natural move you've seen her do countless times.

You needed to change from the blouse and skirt you had wore, it was Steve's favorite, you'd had gone to visit to pick him up for date night. Most of your clothes were geared for his taste and he happily paid for your dresses and blouses.

Stripping you didn't pay attention to the woman who followed you, "How many shoes do you need?"

"Sneakers don't match half this shit." Your leggings are comfortable and match the zipper jacket that showed off your midriff and your navel piercing - eventually that'll have to go. A pair of steel toe boots matched the outfit, 'just in case'.

"He really does love you." She says and it makes you pause with a stack of your clothes perched on your arm, you had decided to take your clothes with you, the clothes that made Steve uncomfortable at times.

You drop them on the floor.

He could keep them.

"Clint wouldn't want you here to talk about him."

She nodded, "He's a faithful man and detest cheaters."

"It wasn't just an emotional affair but sex too." You brush past her, "Forget it. Don't care. I was an assignment, it doesn't matter anyways."

"You were one until he figured out you weren't a total bitch." She admits.

"Like you?" Your gun sat in the safe and you picked it up, checked it, loaded it, and put it back before walking back to your closet. "No offense."

"None taken."

"Good, I always liked you, you know." You come out of the closet with a holster you were snapping in place at your thigh and a purse - where you were going you'd need protection. "Steve was upset when I asked if I could play with you."

Natasha watched as you slid the gun in place and filled your purse with your papers and random knick knacks like your makeup. "He mentioned it. I declined."

You spared her a look, "He asked you?"

It was the first time you ever seen the woman look bashful, "Blurted it out during a mission, coms were on, Sam hasn't let him live it down."

"Did he ask for just me or him, you, and me?"

"You and me with him watching." She admits with a shrug.

"Well... shit... that would have been hilarious. He blushes when there's porn on." You toss your phone and what jewelry you were wearing that was purchased by him on the bed. "Thanks for the distraction but I'll be leaving now."

"**** wait." But you were out of the room and heading down the steps to the open space of your living area. You'd hope to be gone sooner, for a moment you forget that Natasha wasn't there for tea and a conversation but a friend, not your friend but Steve's friend, and speak of the devil, there he was.

Keys in hand.

His eyes were wet but that was it, unlike your reddened ones, the serum in his system didn't allow him to show such weakness of emotions. It was unfair.

Tall and broad he stood with a hunch and flowers. The asshole had brought you flowers, a lovely rainbow of colors, sprigs of white, and a bow to wrap it together.

"**** I'm sorry."

Sorry?

The gun is in your hand, you don't remember pulling it out, but you hear the release of a safety and it was Natasha's own gun. "Say it again."

He drops the keys in a bowl where yours rested and stepped closer, "I'm sorry."

"Liar." Your finger settles on the trigger and you see Natasha in your peripheral, moving so you see her and the gun aimed at your head but you're past that point of caring.

Steve stops in front of you and he doesn't flinch when you aim for his heart - if the bastard had one. "I am. I'm a liar and a cheat."

"A coward." You tack on.

"Yes." He agrees.

"I hate you." and you do. You hate him so much.

"You should, I hurt you, and I'm sorry."

Your brow arches, "but?" There's always a but.

"No excuse. I hurt you. I promised and I lied but I would have never said I loved you without meaning it. I wouldn't have moved you in or got you that ring you found and I pretended to not see you hide it."

The ring... the beautiful black gold with a blue sapphire jewel. It was intricate and beautiful, you in all ways, different than all the rings you've seen on hands. It had made you cry... you had let down your guard completely and was willing to be the house wife you never thought you would be, to be a mother, you even visited your gynecologist to talk about stopping your birth control.

It was so hard to keep the emotions contained, you wanted to cry, scream, you wanted to destroy his face, stomp on his hands, castrate the fucker, and burn this place to the ground. You wanted to rage war against the Avengers, wanted them to feel an ounce of your pain, feel the world slip between their fingers and beg for it all to end.

"I'm sorry." He's crying. "I swear **** I wouldn't..."

"When was the last time you fucked her?" His gaze shifts to Natasha but the woman doesn't move, she keeps her eyes on you, it was only fair since your finger was on the trigger and she'd probably shoot you before you could pull the trigger.

Maybe.

"When I broke things off."

He was fucking her until the last day.

It fucking hurt.

"You said you wanted us to wait, you wanted it to be real. Was it ever real Captain?" You hate that your voice breaks, you hate how your eyes blur and you hate how heavy with tears your eyes get before they fall freely. "I've never made love with anyone but you and you lied to me."

"****..."

"I learned to cook and to separate the colors from the whites. I ironed and sewed buttons on your stupid shirts, I cleaned your guns and polished your fucking knives."

"I know."

"Do you? Do you really know what I gave up for you?"

"I've lied for you." He says and Natasha side eyes him. "Covered for you when I should have brought you in."

A smirk touches your lips, "You should have. If you would have done your job you'd be back with Sharon and living your good ole American dream with apple pies and two point five kids."

"You didn't do it for your father ****, I covered for you because you knew Nat and Clint were headed there. I covered for you because you sunk the ship that carried a shipment of weapons to the Keys. I covered for you when you burned down that warehouse that trafficked kids. I covered for you because I loved you and understood you stood in contact with your family because you wanted to help and you're help involves alot of blood and crazy."

"I'm certifiable. Unfit." It was written on your employee records courtesy of the that of a therapist you forced yourself to see.

"I killed him." He says seriously and your brows scrunch because there was alot of him's that should be murdered. "SHIELD psychiatrist." He tacks on and you weren't the least bit grateful the therapist who made your every Wednesday a living hell.

You glare, "He was useful."

"I know."

"You sure as fuck know alot Captain America."

"You were planning to use him as a proxy, shift the blame to him in case SHIELD comes for you." He sounded confident too, to bad he was off the mark.

"Wrong. Close but it wasn't SHIELD." He glances over at Natasha and you fill him in, "He belonged to my father. He kept him off my back, my daddy issues keeping him safe. I'd do anything to be accepted remember?"

"That's not you." Natasha chimes in.

"That's exactly who I am. I'm a criminal, a street rat, a drug dealer, I'm a lot of fucking things, none of which worth your time." Your grip adjusts and your finger presses firmly on the trigger, all you need is a tad more pressure and the gun would go off, it would fix everything.

"You're a college graduate with two degrees and working on your Mastery in one. You own real-estate down south and land in the Philippines. You want to open a woman's shelter and clinic with the money you get from working for your father."

"Nope. Arms trafficking and drugs, next."

"You're a humanitarian." His gaze is level, eye's you've seen such intensity on the field not here in the home you've built the past year together.

"Human trafficking makes me a shit ton of money." You admit easily.

Steve drops his arms, the plastic around the bouquet crinkling. "Natasha won't shoot you ****." You hate how he knew you so well. The man was a god damn menace.

"I will."

Steve spares Natasha a look.

"Would you shoot me if I kill him?" You ask her.

"Yes."

"Would you kill him if he tried to kill me?" You knew the answer.

"I would never..." Steve shakes his head, as if you would believe him.

"No." Natasha promises and you count on that.

The gun goes off.

It's loud, it makes your ears ring, and you watch like it's a slow motion as Steve's eye's widen and he stumbles back, knocked off his feet and to the floor.

You felt numb.

You shot your boyfriend - ex - and it was a direct hit to the heart. You didn't expect to live... you thought you'd be executed before your finger could so much as twitch... the gun shouldn't have gone off...

You look to Natasha and her eyes are comically wide and the gun is shaking in her hands, as if she's struggling to not shoot you. "You bitch." It tumbles out of you, "You fucking bitch."

"You shot him..." she sounds as if it would have been a ridiculous idea. Of course you would shoot you ex, he was your ex!

"You were supposed to kill me." That numbness washes away to anger and you're standing there in your Timberlane's, bodega attire, and apple watch. "Aren't you supposed to be the best of the fucking best? How could you not see i was going to shoot his dumb ass?"

She looks at you like you were the crazy one. "You shot him."

"He cheated on me, it's only fair." You're screeching, panic at what you'd done making you nauseous. "Oh god." Hands on knees, gun still in your hand, you bend over wishing you could stick your head between your knees - that should help right?

"I deserved that."

Shocked you watched Steve sit up. His face is twisted in a grimace and he touches where the bullet had gone through, the man digs deep and pulls out the bullet, fingers tinted red with his blood but he's alive.

The son of abitch is alive.

"You owe me." Natasha says and there's a smirk on her face.

Did these people not know you had a gun in your possession?

"I know. I know." He manages to stand, picking up the bouquet in the process. The flowers were still intact, not a petal lost. "Didn't think you would shoot me." He's grinning and you're standing there confused. "Even?" And he holds the stupid flowers out like a demented peace offering.

"No. Not even close." You move. The gun aiming for his head and you were going to pull the trigger. Someone was dying that night, but hidden in the bouquet was night-night gas. A puff of gas hits you in the face and Steve ducks out of the way of the bullet.

Natasha takes the gun from you.

Steve has you as the gas stings your eyes and makes it hard to breathe.

You try to fight, you know you hit someone. You can feel your foot catch someone, your nails digging into someone's flesh but whatever it was makes you woozy and you feel like you've eaten a potent edible.

You're a mess of floppy limbs, droopy eyes, and you're mumbling as Steve carries you to the bedroom or tries to until Natasha butts in. "They'll come here."

"Let them." Brushing past her he carries you to bed where he'll make dam sure you'll stay.

To be continued - (HeRe)

#avengers #fanfiction #mirkysconcubinefiction #fanfic #female reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #captain america #kingpin daughter #angst #fluff #angst with a happy ending #happy ending #it is what it is #dying inside #going down with this plot #i regret alot but not this #Dark Themes

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