#mob!steve rogers x reader

[thezombieprostitute]

Hummingbird - Part 2

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

Word Count: ~1500

A/N: Reader is female but no physical descriptors are used.

Warnings: I don't think there are any, but please let me know if I'm wrong on that!

Part 1 -- Part 3

Series Masterlist

You look over the party invite, feeling slightly guilty for receiving so many of them without ever actually going. You tell yourself all the excuses but ultimately it all comes down to you feeling like you’re taking advantage of Mr. Rogers generosity. You were only doing what any other good person should do. Why would anyone think that deserves a reward? Sighing, you put the invitation with the stack of others. 

While you’re pondering your dinner options you hear a knock at your door. Confused, you look through the peephole and freeze. That tall, thick build and blonde hair is definitely Mr. Rogers. You crack the door open, “hello, Sir. What…what are you doing here?”

“Honestly, Hummingbird, I’m a little hurt,” he chides. His hands are on his hips and his expression is stern. “It’s been a lot of months, a lot of invites, a lot of art shows and you haven’t once taken me up on my offer. I called the curator and she said she hadn’t seen you, even during normal gallery hours.” You drop your face in shame. “Are you not actually interested in art? Is it really just one artist that gets your attention?”

“N-no, Sir-”

“Steve.”

“No, Steve, I…I just…” your brain scrambles to come up with something. Just a few minutes ago you told yourself all of the excuses you needed but with his piercing, blue eyes seemingly looking into your soul, they all feel baseless. “I…I don’t have nice enough clothes.” 

He smiles, and not in a comforting way. It reminds you of the first smile he gave you, when he knew the perfect reward. “I was wondering if it was something like that. May I come in?” 

A part of you feels like you really shouldn’t but his demeanor has you opening up the door, gesturing for him to enter. He nods at you and comes inside, carrying a black box with a white ribbon. You close the door behind him and turn to see him holding out the box to you.

“A gift from Monica’s parents. Had to guess at the measurements, so I’m under orders to make sure it fits.” You take the box and set it on your kitchen table before opening it. Inside is the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen. The embroidery is stunning. You gasp as you carefully lift the dress out of the box and see that it covers the dress. It’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever held and you’re scared you’ll somehow tear it or ruin it. 

“Si–Steve,” you whisper as tears start forming in your eyes, “it’s…it’s too much. It’s too beautiful. I…I can’t-”

“Hummingbird,” he grumbles, “if you tell me you can’t accept it, I’ll have to go back to Danvers and Rambeau with the bad news that their gift was not accepted.” You wince at the thought. “Not accepting my gift is one thing, you only saved my party and my reputation. Not accepting their gift is far more insulting since it’s a thank you for rescuing their daughter.”

“I never thought of it like that,” you mumble. 

“I figured.” He steps closer to you. “Now, as I said, I am under orders to make sure that the dress does fit you. While I am here, would you please try it on and inform me if there are spots where it doesn’t fit right? I promise to stay seated here at the table.”

“Um..but, we…we don’t, I don’t know you well enough. Can you come back another day and I’ll tell you how it fits? Or I could message you about the fit?”

“Are you asking for my number, Hummingbird?” Heat rushes to your face as he confidently smirks at you. “I appreciate your hesitation but, as I said, I’m under orders from Monica’s mothers and they are not the kind of ladies you want to disobey. I will stay just outside your apartment door, lock it behind me if you want, but I need you to try that dress on now.”

You nod and gesture to your apartment door. As he starts walking he notices the small pile of invites he’s sent you these past few months. 

“You didn’t throw them away?”

“No, of course not. They’re a nice reminder of that night.” He nods his head but doesn’t say anything, closing the door behind him. 

You lock the deadbolt and take the dress to your room. In truth you’re terrified of accidentally ripping the dress but you’re incredibly excited to try on the beautiful piece of clothing. As you strip your casual wear you hope you can do the dress justice. 

With the utmost care you put on the dress. The sleeve is a little confusing at first but the more of the dress that settles the easier it is to navigate. You’re amazed at how perfectly it fits. He said they had to guess your measurements. Well, whoever made the guess has a very good eye. You look at yourself in the mirror and gasp at the pretty woman looking back at you. The dress is a perfect fit and you’ve never felt more beautiful. With a confidence you’ve never felt before, you go back to the apartment door to let Steve know. 

The door opens and Steve greets you with a bouquet of pink and lavender roses. That burst of confidence is gone and you freeze, blinking at him.

“I see you’re ready for the party,” he beams. “We should show up a little early since I am hosting and need to double check some details. But don’t worry about those, you just have fun tonight, okay?”

“B..but the…the invite said…next month.”

“Oh that’s correct. There’s another party next month. Huh,” he mused, “the invite to this party must’ve been lost in the mail.”

“Si–Steve, that wasn’t nice to trick me.”

“It also wasn’t nice for you to snub my gift.”

“I…I didn’t, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay, Hummingbird,” he soothes. “Just this one, and if you still don’t want to attend any parties or visit the gallery, I’ll leave you be.”

“Thank you. Let me put these flowers in some water before we go?”

He gently kisses your hand, “of course.”

Steve holds the door to the gallery open for you. You’re hoping you can just spend the evening getting lost in the art and not drawing attention to yourself. You really don’t want to embarrass Steve by upsetting his guests or ruining the party in some other way. 

The two of you are greeted by the curator who says she’s pleased to finally meet you and she hopes to see you more often. You smile weakly, thinking she’s just being nice because Steve is there. She leads you both to the hall where the party is being set up. You’re a little surprised that it’s empty of people. Giving Steve a confused look you ask, “how early are we?”

“We’re exactly on time,” he smiles gently. “I still want to thank you for your actions so I’ve rented the place for just you. Take your time, enjoy yourself. If you need something to eat or drink, just ask and I’ll get it for you. If you want to do this without me around, I’ll stay back. If you want to talk about the artwork instead of just looking at it, I’ll be happy to join you. It’s all your decision.”

“Th..the dress?”

“I wasn’t lying about that. It is a thank you gift from Monica’s mothers.”

“How’d they get my measurements so right? They barely saw me.”

Steve smirks at that, “I gave them the measurements.” You look at him in surprise and he chuckles, “I’ve got a lot of experience in sizing people up.” Whether it’s nerves catching up with you or the absurdity of the situation you actually laugh at that and find yourself relaxing a little. His eyes light up at your laugh but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Okay, Steve,” you nod. “I think I’d like to walk with you. As much as I enjoyed the last show, it probably would’ve been more fun if I had someone to share the experience with.”

Steve offers you his arm and you don’t hesitate to take it. He’s happy to let you take the lead. You spend the next few hours walking together and talking about the different artists, techniques and mediums you see. Steve is delighted to see how excited you get the more comfortable you are. You’re brimming with energy and you flit back and forth between pieces while talking. 

As exciting as it all is, you do still get tired after a while. Every time you try to stifle a yawn you swear you see Steve’s eyes twinkle at you in amusement. Soon it’s impossible to even try.

“What do you say we get you home, Hummingbird?”

“But there’s so much more to see!”

“You’re barely awake,” he chuckles. “Let’s get you home. You can see more at the next party.”

“Next party?”

“If, of course, you’re still interested. If not, that latest invite will be the last you receive, I promise.”

“Noooo,” you whimper tiredly. “I’ve had so much fun. Haven’t had this much fun in such a long time.”

“Me too, Hummingbird,” he murmurs. “Me, too.”

Part 1 -- Part 3

Series Masterlist

Tags:

@alicedopey

@aryhyuuga

@cynic-spirit

@ktficworld

@rebekahdawkins

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[navybrat817]

A Price to Pay

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader Summary: Steve demands retribution when Ransom crosses a line. Ransom offers you as payment. Word Count: Almost 2.9k Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon elements (do not read if that upsets you), blackmail, coercion, choking, swearing, talks of violence, forced cheating, Ransom is an asshole, mob!Steve Rogers (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Another old WIP completed! I began this in August of 2021. This will be connected to a future Bucky fic and I may expand on Steve's story if there is interest. ❤️ Beta read by the beautiful @little-diable and @sweeterthanthis, but any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by @maysdigitalarts and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

Ransom Drysdale was the worst mistake you ever made. The man exuded arrogance, yet you were somehow attracted to his confidence. Maybe it was because yours wasn't strong enough at the time. His charm won you over, even as you tried to resist. He didn't strike you as the type who wanted a long-term relationship, but he convinced you to give him a chance. He swore you wouldn't regret it. 

"Best decision you'll ever make."

Fool me once, shame on you. 

Ransom didn't deserve you. You figured that out when you caught him in the first lie. You weren't supposed to hear his phone call as he watched the news. He wasn't usually that careless, as you would later find out.

At first you thought he cheated on you. It would have explained his hushed calls and random outings after you moved in. You almost wished he had been seeing someone else. That would have made it easier to walk away and never look back. 

"Yeah, I'm watching. Like I give a shit if his company falls or his wife leaves. Should've kept his dick in his pants. And you should've seen the stupid look on his face when I told him there were photos. I told him what would happen if he didn't wire the money. Fucker's paying for it now, isn't he?"

"... Ransom?"

"... Fuck. I'll call you back."

He brushed you off when you questioned him. He even tried to convince you that you were hearing things. He dropped the charade when he realized you weren't going to let it go. 

"Just can't let me have my fun, can you?"

You thought Ransom came from money, which he had growing up. Somewhere along the way his grandfather cut him off. He had to find more creative ways to keep his cash flow going - like blackmail. Trading secrets and exposing scandals when necessary were second nature to him. And he wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. 

But he swore he'd stop when he saw your tears.

"I'm done, pumpkin. It was the last one. Cross my heart."

Fool me twice, shame on me. 

It was easier when you were blissfully unaware of the kind of man he truly was. The affectionate touches and gasps he drew from you couldn't wash away what he had done. He ruined lives just to keep his pockets full. And you knew in your heart he wouldn't let you go. Not because he loved you, but because you were a liability.

He made that clear when you caught him again and said you needed space.

"You're not leaving me."

You could barely walk by the time he was done fucking you that night. A sore reminder that crossing him wasn't a smart move. But he never raised a hand to you. He didn't leave visible scars. You carried them where no one could see. So why would your friends and family who were still around ever side with you? 

"I own you. Don't you ever fucking forget it."

You weren't completely helpless. You played your part and learned a few secrets of your own, like how Ransom's grandfather really died. You pieced together that Ransom was the one who killed him, but he still didn't get enough money in the will to satisfy him. 

He'll never be satisfied. 

It took time and careful planning to make sure you had enough money set aside to leave. He dipped into your main account, of course, but you had a rainy day fund from before you met him that he would never touch. You could have a fresh start and maybe expose him in the process. But you still felt like a coward. 

Was that why he chose to be with me? Because I'm weaker than him? 

"Pumpkin, where are you?" you heard as the front door opened. 

Glancing at the clock, you tried not to panic. He isn't supposed to be home yet. You quickly stashed your bag under the bed and swallowed the lump in your throat. "Coming!" you called back, smoothing out your dress and checking your reflection before you made your way downstairs to the study.

I can still leave tonight. I can even leave tomorrow. I'll be fine.

You took a deep breath before you entered the room, surprised to find two other men with Ransom. 

"There she is. Finally," Ransom said, a glass of scotch already in hand.

Your heart raced in your chest as you glanced at the man who sat across from Ransom. His broad body radiated power and strength, his presence dominating the entire room. And he wasn't even standing. You expected his gaze to be harsh when he looked at you, but his blue eyes softened the longer he stared. You had to look away after a minute. 

Your gaze landed on the figure beside him. The brunette looked just as intimidating as the blonde, his gaze cold. The corner of his lip tugged into a smile as he lifted his hand in a wave. It was a metal hand. 

"Relax. We won't bite. Well… I won't."

Ransom rolled his eyes, "Pumpkin, take a seat. We need to talk."

Nothing good ever happened when someone needed to talk. "About what?" you asked as you sat in the empty chair on the other side of Ransom.

"This is Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes," he introduced, taking a sip of his scotch. "They're here on business."

You bit the inside of your cheek. You didn't want to judge these men, but you knew it had to be something shady. Nothing Random did was ever pure.

Steve shifted in his chair to face you. "Care to tell me your name, sweetheart? You don't strike me as the type who likes to be called 'pumpkin'."

You avoided Ransom's subtle glare as you cleared your throat and said it. 

"It’s nice to meet you, though I wish the circumstances were better," he smiled gently. "For the record, we already know who you are. I know where your friends and family live. I know about that bakery you like to go to once a week. You treat yourself to a specialty donut. They're good."

You wished you had a glass of water to quench your dry throat. "You've been watching me?"

"It's part of my job to know people. Allies. Enemies. We also know you've been living here for some time. Before I get into why exactly we're here, I do have to ask even though I know the answer. Are you aware of what Ransom does?"

Ashamed, you merely nodded as your fingers twisted in your lap.

Steve's gaze was sympathetic as he continued. “Are you also aware that Ransom recently got into some trouble?"

You spared Ransom a quick glance. "What kind of trouble?"

"Doesn't matter," he said dismissively. 

"It does matter," Steve said firmly, leaning forward in his chair. "It matters when your mouth gets one of my men killed."

Your stomach dropped as you took in Steve and Bucky's angry expressions. "You got someone killed?"

"Idiot got himself killed. Not my fault or my problem."

"He was a kid," Steve argued.

It earned him a shrug in response. "You brought the kids in, Rogers. Both of you knew what he was getting into. Don't blame me for his blood being on your hands."

The callousness shocked you, despite what you knew about Ransom. "How can you say that? How can you think so little of people?"

"Oh, it gets better," Bucky said sarcastically before Ransom could answer.

"What do you mean?" you asked nervously. 

"I told you. He got one of my men killed. I took it personally," Steve explained. "I debated between killing him myself or having him sent to jail, but I'm a reasonable guy. I gave him a chance to tell his side of the story. Once he figured out I wasn't going to budge on some sort of retaliation, he offered me something."

You didn't like where this was going. "What exactly did he offer?"

"You."

You were waiting for the punchline. For someone to laugh. There was nothing funny about it as all three men stared at you. Bucky's expression remained the same, but there was sympathy in his eyes. Ransom looked proud of himself. It made you wish you could slap the smirk off his face. But Steve?

Steve's eyes were thoughtful, calculating. He was gauging your response. You almost opened your mouth to tell him you weren't worth the life of the man he lost, but what came out was, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Steve didn't look surprised by your outburst. Maybe he expected it. "Listen, please. I know-"

"No. You listen. I want nothing to do with whatever he did. I am so sorry that one of your men was killed, but please understand that I am not going to be a pawn in whatever this is."

Ransom had the gall to look embarrassed as you stood up. "You don't have a choice. Just let him fuck you and be done with it."

"Yes, I do have a choice. And I'm choosing to leave."

"You're not walking out that door," Ransom said, getting to his feet, too. "Just like you didn't the last time you tried to leave."

Humiliation flooded you as Steve and Bucky exchanged a look. Were they judging you? Did they pity you? "I'm going upstairs and getting my bag. I'm not cleaning up your mess. I'm done playing your games, Ransom. I'm done with you."

Ransom's jaw clenched as he marched over and grabbed you by your throat. "You think I give a shit what you want right now? I never did. You were just a fucking toy to keep my dick wet. And I'd let him and his entire fucking crew run a train on you if it keeps me out of jail."

Your eyes teared up as you looked into his eyes. There was no love there. Not at that moment. Did he ever love you?

"Do. You. Understand?"

The hand around your throat squeezed tighter, just enough to show that he could end you. You whimpered, but not because of the pain. It was a different kind of hurt you felt.  The kind of hurt that couldn't be healed by false promises. That was what Ransom was: a false, empty promise.

I should have run the moment you walked into my life.  

"Let her go."

Steve's words were softly spoken in the quiet room, but everyone felt the weight of them.

"Don't tell me what to do with my girl, Rogers."

"Right now, she's MY girl. Get your fucking hands off of her."

Bucky brandished his gun as he stood up, taking aim at Ransom. "He won't ask again. And I'd hate to ruin her pretty dress with your blood."

You almost missed the snarl he let out as he released you, coughing as you rubbed your neck. Your heart leapt as you looked over and caught Steve's gaze. The intensity in his eyes only grew as he began to walk across the room. You felt your breath leave your body again as he got closer. You didn't bother to step back because you were already caught. 

Neither of you spoke a word when he stopped and brought his hands to your face. He cupped your cheeks with a certain kind of tenderness that surprised you as his eyes scanned your neck. A tear finally fell when his brows furrowed with concern. Why would he care when your own boyfriend didn't?

"The fuck are you doing?" Ransom snapped when Steve began to pepper gentle kisses along the column of your throat.

Your eyes slipped shut, but it wasn't completely out of fear. The feel of his lips should have made you shudder in disgust, but you found yourself craving more. Was it pathetic? You didn't care.

"I told you, she's my girl now," Steve murmured against your skin. "And if I ever see you touch her like that again, I'll tear you apart. Limb from limb."

Ransom's laugh sounded bitter and ugly as you opened your eyes. "You want my sloppy seconds so badly, be my guest. Little slut's probably creaming herself from the attention."

"This whole thing is your fault, Ransom," you reminded him, another bitter tear falling from your eye. The anger whirling inside you couldn't be contained any longer. "So if you're going to offer me up like a slut, the least I can do is enjoy it."

Steve kissed up to the corner of your mouth, smiling. "Enjoy it? Oh, sweetheart," he breathed, "By the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember he existed. Because every thought of him will be fucked out of you. I can promise you that."

You shivered and dared to glance at Ransom out of the corner of your eye. 

“You really are a fucking slut,” he sneered before Bucky pressed the gun to his temple.

“No one twisted your arm to offer her.”

"I could just let you kill him,” you pointed out to Steve, the last shred of sympathy for Ransom fading as another tear slid down your cheek.

"I'd take you anyway," Steve whispered, brushing his lips against your cheek to take the tear away. "I wanted you the moment I saw you and I'm a very determined man."

You were light on your feet as you brought a hand up to wrap around his wrist. Something to keep you from falling. "I won't be a pawn. If you're going to keep me, actually keep me, prove to me why I shouldn't run."

"I have ways to keep you from running," his voice deepened, a flash of Ransom dragging you to bed filling your mind. "But I'd rather not chase you away to begin with."

“She loves to put up a fight. Helps her sleep at night instead of admitting she’s as fucked up as the rest of us.” 

You weren't sure if it was the disdain in Ransom's voice or the rage in Steve's eyes, but a surge of unexpected power emerged from the bitterness. "What was it you said, Ran? You'd let his men run a train on me if it keeps you out of jail?"

"What are you suggesting, sweetheart?" Steve asked, his gaze curious as he pulled back to regard you. 

"While I don't want that, I want Ransom to watch you fuck me," you spoke, standing a bit straighter as you looked him in the eye. You refused to look weak. "I want him to see you split me open with your cock and make me cry from how good it feels. When you're done, then I'll forget he ever existed."

Bucky chuckled, but you didn't look his way. You didn't dare look away from Steve as his gaze drifted to your lips. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. My wife's gonna love you."

"Done," Steve whispered before his mouth descended on yours.

You didn't fight as his tongue slid past your parted lips. You welcomed his dominance, his control. Oh, he was going to make you become addicted. The dampening in your panties was a sure sign of that. 

"You're fucking stupid if you think I'll watch him fuck her!"

Ransom's voice wasn't enough to break the spell that Steve's kiss had over you. Maybe you were trading one evil for another, but this was the door you willingly walked through. You threw away the key the moment you took Ransom's hand.

Now you'd have a better hand to guide you.

"You'll watch," Bucky promised. "But, punk, my doll might kill me if I have to watch, too. You understand."

The almost lighthearted tone of Steve's friend was enough to stop the kiss, giving you a moment to take a much needed deep breath. "Get Ari over here. He'll make sure he keeps his eyes open."

"You fucking-"

You jumped when Bucky smacked Ransom in the face with his gun, effectively cutting off his next words. The hit made his nose bleed and you took sick pleasure in watching it stain his sweater, his hands flying up to try and stop it. If you were the sacrifice, he had to pay in blood for your offering. 

"Any other conditions or questions?" Steve asked, turning your face back toward him as your now ex's swears and groans were muffled.

"Will you be good to me?” 

“You have my word and I’ll do what I can to make sure you trust me.”

Ransom may have been your worst mistake, but the silver lining was that you'd no longer be in his prison. Your body was a small price to pay to join Steve in a larger, better cage. You could still fly. Maybe you’d give him your heart in time. 

Maybe you could also convince Steve to take Ransom down anyway. For his grandfather, for the kid, for you. For every person he hurt.

You won't die, Ransom, but you'll pay. Everyone has to pay for their sins eventually.

“Then we should get started," you stated, sealing your fate.

"Call Ari. Now," Steve ordered Bucky, looking at Ransom with an unsympathetic smile. “You heard her. Let’s get started.”

*****

Hope to share more soon. Love and thanks! ❤️

[talesofadragon]

𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Synopsis: The world was not created in colors to be lived seldom in white, black, or even gray. This is what Y/N believed, and she resolutely refuses to be told otherwise. But when a night at the city’s most prestigious nightclub triggers a series of misfortunate events, Y/N’s world of hues is thrown off balance, colliding with a stranger whose eyes may be blue but his world is a handful of shades too dark.  

Pairing: Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Mature scenes. Minors DNI.

Chapter 1 | Flat White

Chapter 2 | Morally Gray

Chapter 3 | Star Command Blue

Chapter 4 (Coming soon)

A/N: Blame @crazyunsexycool for this one. When the first scene of this "one shot" bordered 3K lines because yours truly cannot for the life her forgo evocative descriptions, I knew I needed to reevaluate the direction of this fic. I'm hoping to have the next chapter out sometime soon. Stay tuned 🩵

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nero Rose || Mob!Steve Rogers

Character: Mob!Steve Rogers x Detective!Reader

Warning: None

Words Count: 1,539

Summary: She has bad blood towards the famous gangster leader called Steve Rogers. With his influences, he sent her to the outskirts city. Then one day, you received a called that said Steve Rogers wanted to talk to you. When you come back and meet him again, something terrible happens. 

This is the story of the enemy-to-lovers.

A/N: Reblog and any feedback are much appreciated. I love reading all your comments. 💖😘

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

A crowded street, sounds of car horns, smell of piss. All the little things made you miss New York.

It's been 8 months since you left the city. It wasn't your choice to be exact. You left because the head of the police demoted you from detective to traffic police. 

You want to protest but it's impossible since your opponent is the powerful mob in the city. 

Steve Rogers is the king of the mafia. His power in business, politics and network in the underworld made him unbeatable. No one can bring him down. 

Until you did. 

You found the drugs and weapons that connected to Rogers. You got him good. And the media and citizens also support you. 

But you have no support when it comes to law and politics. The almighty Steve Rogers has given money to the judge and governor that could give them a third family. He also paid the best lawyer. 

In the end, he only spent 3 nights in jail and went home. While you got sent to the outskirts city. You hate your boss and everyone. It took a while for you to accept the new life you have.

When you started to let it go, you suddenly got a call from the chief of police. 

-Flashback Start-

He said, "Steve Rogers got stabbed."

You don't understand what's the point he told you this "Cheers for me. You want me to attend his funeral? I will wear white."

"He's still alive."

You scoffed "Too bad."

"He's a victim but he doesn't want to talk. He said that he only wants to talk to you."

-Flashback End-

That's why you return to New York. You want to see the look on his face, being pale and weak after getting hurt.

But before that, you're going to buy flowers. A gift for sick patients. You picked a perfect one for him. At the flower shop, you pointed at one flower. "I want that one."

The shop employee is an elderly woman. Her name is Sienna. You've known her since you were a kid. She's a joyful and funny grandma. 

Sienna raised her eyebrows and looked at the flower you chose. She picked the flowers one by one. "That's an odd choice to visit a sick person. It means 'You're dead to me.'"

You smirked "Is that what it means? Even better." 

You gave her the money after you received the flower bucket. "You're the best Sienna. I'll see you tomorrow."

She gave a warm smile "Bye, Y/N ."

You arrived at the hospital and immediately saw one of his trusted right hands. Bucky Barnes. He's standing outside while smoking. 

He put out his cigarette when he saw you "Detective Y/N."

You rolled your eyes "Fuck off. Where is he?"

Bucky scoffed and brought you to the VIP room. Before he opened the door, you could hear people talking, and laughing from inside the room. 

When the door got open, and you walked inside, everyone turned silent and looked at you. All of them are wearing black suits. 

8 months without seeing any mafia made you forget that you just entered enemy territory.

You gathered any courage that you had and walked towards the patient. You expect Steve to be pale, weak, and lying motionless on his bed since he got stabbed.

But your expectations betrayed you. In front of you, Steve Rogers is sitting like a boss with a half robe opened that shows his torsos tattoos. His hair even got combed to the back. He doesn't look sick.

"Aww, you bring me a gift. Thank you detective Y/N."

There it is. He always finds a way to make you angry. He knew you're not a detective anymore. You hate to admit it, even though he's a jerk, gangster, and narcissist. His face and his body are your type. 

Many fish in the sea but why do you have to like a man like him?

You clicked your tongue and then gave the flower to him "I ordered this for your funeral to be honest."

"Thank you doll." He handed the flower to his subordinate. "Did you buy this from the Sienna flower shop?"

"How did you know?"

"From the wrapping paper, the ribbon. I'm her loyal customer." He winked at you.

Well, that's something you learned from him. Perhaps he bought flowers for his girlfriend. 

You cleared your throat then grabbed a note and pencil from the pocket of your leather jacket.

"So what kind of person would dare to stab the gangster leader? That culprit must be crazy or a serial killer."

Suddenly the room turned quiet. Everyone is looking at you, including Steve. 

"You're right. Not even my rival dared to pick a fight with me. I could feel it. It's not them."

You crossed your arms "Why did you ask me to come here?"

"Since you left the city is not safe anymore. See? I got hurt. And, perhaps I missed the time we spent together."

You gritted your teeth. Geez, his words could make anyone misunderstood. The moment you spend with him is at the court or police station. 

The police station became an event. Paparazzi is always there, the media, he even invites a private chef to bring his lunch and dinner.

When you interrogate him, he always has wine beside him. It's impossible to make him stop since he got the best lawyer Matt Murdock. The famous lawyer who defends crooked people and always wins. 

You should've known that you have lost. 

"Enough with the jokes. What do you want?"

"I'm offering you a chance to come back. I want you to investigate my case."

"Why?"

Steve tilted his head a bit  "Because… I don't know. Maybe because I like playing with you."

You raised your voice "So you made me fly 4 hours to come here just for this?!!!"

Steve nodded. 

Oh, how he loves to see you being mad. That's his plan from the beginning. He still holds the grudge for you to make him stay in jail for three nights. 

-Flashback Start-

Steve was furious for sure when he got the letter from the court. He is the mobster leader in the city. How come a newcomer detective like you has the guts to put him to jail?

The audacity of ungrateful people. What's the point of bribing the police every month? They should've put a good leash on their member. 

Every second and every minute all he can think about is what he should do with you if both of you meet. Quick death or slow death. 

But he thinks of another plan when he finally meets you face to face. You're a new sheriff in the town. He wonders what kind of brilliant mind you have that made you able to catch him. 

When you interrogated him, you were fierce and fearless. Even the chief of the police told you to calm down but you wouldn't listen. 

Since that moment you got him interested. 

-Flashback End-

You suddenly stood up and sighed "If I had my gun, you would be bleeding right now."

"Is that a threat detective? Because I'm scared."

Bucky shook his head by looking at both of you. He turned his head to watch the TV. He widened his eyes when he saw the headline news. 

He turned up the volume "Steve, you should see this."

Both of you stopped arguing and looked at the TV. 

"Breaking news. Another stabbed victim at the well known flower shop called Sienna Flower's. The victim is a 77 years old female. Witnesses said the victim was closing the shop when she got stabbed. The paramedics informed us that the victim got stabbed on the chest and lost her life on the way to the hospital."

You gasped. "Sienna." You couldn't believe it. You just left the shop for an hour and something terrible happened. You lost your old friend. 

On your left, Steve only sees red. He clenched his fist. Sienna is a sweet old lady. His mother always went there and he always bought flowers from that shop for his mother.  

What kind of heartless person wants to hurt a kind person like Sienna? He will chase the culprit until the end of the earth.

"Boys."

"YES BOSS!!!"

"Gather everyone to check on that area. Everyone gathered all the information. I will kill that person by myself."

All his subordinates left the room after they got the order. 

After they left, Steve tried to stand up from his bed "Urgh." 

When he touches his left waist, you finally see his wound. It's still bleeding.

"Are you crazy? You can't move yet."

You're right. The stabbed wound was deep. If the painkiller runs out, this wound will be painful. The doctor told Steve that couldn't move his body freely for a week. And he doesn't want to get another stitch. 

Suddenly he got an idea. 

Steve leaned his body towards you and whispered in your ear, "Detective do you want to work together to catch who killed Sienna?"

You looked at his eyes. It never crossed your mind to work together with gangster leaders like Steve Rogers. But with his mafia connections, you could catch the culprits quicker. 

"Heck yeah."

A/N: Reblog and any feedback are much appreciated. I love reading all your comments. 💖😘

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

[neonovember]

Careful

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics​ !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

@tinkerbelle67 @patzammit @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @nomadstucky @nessie2183 @shamelessfangirl-3 @namelesssav @marvel-phoenix @euphoric-goddess @roseeatta @abschaffer2 @louderfortheback @stupendouslovegardener @wandamaximoff-simp @thedonswife13 @hpsimpspot @samsgirl93

The sound of chirping birds sifts through the linen curtains draped over the balcony doors, and the gentle breeze of the early morning cause goose bumps to arise across your body strewn about the disturbingly large bed.

Through the haze of half-sleep, you peek one eye open, catching the enormous ceiling-high windows overlooking a meticulously manicured lawn, with tinted cars parked on the cobblestone driveway and everything's all wrong and this isn't your house.

Your heart drops to the depths of your stomach, and everything slows like a picture, you squeeze your eyes shut to will yourself back into the slumber you had just felt before but all you are met with is a nauseous burn crawling up your throat.

You can't think twice before you shoot up from the bed, miraculously finding the bathroom just in time before pouring the entirety of your stomach into the porcelain toilet. You weren't one to get sick, no matter how much you had used that excuse at work, and the putrid stench of day-old liquor rang familiar in your mind as you continued to dry heave.

You don’t waste time before reaching for the flush, watching the disgusting weakness of your strength wash away into the underground sewers, you can't bare to look at yourself and you wish you could wash away the embarrassment just as easily.

Your preoccupation with yourself has momentarily distracted you from the alarming reality of the foreign room you had awakened in, and you suddenly feel that fear blooming within you for the first time in weeks. You hadn't really noticed, but you were less scared of well, everything when Steve had inserted himself into your life, and now you wished you could go back.

Your ears perked up for any sign of movement outside your door but it was desolate, you reached for a candle stick perched on the basin before opening the bathroom door. Eyes surveying the expansive room, you can't help but expect your husband to barge in, laughing down at you as you were captured within his palm yet again.

The prospect wasn't entirely outlandish, you know your husband owned several properties he kept in secrecy, and you hadn't had the stomach to find out what he had them for. Yet something was gnawing at the edges of your mind to step forward, like an unconscious shadow within you, guiding your body towards the door and stepping into the room you had run from. The fear was there, as it always was, but you weren't holding your breath, your body didn't chill from the air of evil that always seemed to emit near your husband.

Your eyes survey the expansive bed situated in the middle of some sort of guest room, even despite your hasty escape, the room looked impeccable, wainscotting outlining the ceiling-high walls, with the shine of sunlight pouring in from the balcony windows like honey.

The marble floors reminded you of your own bedroom you had occupied for years months ago, and suddenly the elated feeling of luxury leaves just as easily as it came.

It unnerved you, being in the presence of such opulence after months of your bare quaint apartment. Even though you had lived in it for years before, it was never truly yours, this life was never truly yours. You were only ever borrowing it until your husband would find the balls to get rid of you.

Your eyes catch a note on the bedside table however, and written in that elegant ink that belongs to only one man that had strung you along in the palm of your hand is placed on a silver tray, along with a pill and a bottle of water, still cold from the tap.

Your fear begins to dissipate from your stomach, as you realise that your anonymity had remained unchanged, and you weren't back into the cage of your husband's imprisonment.

You reach for the note, eyes skimming the perfect lettering you secretly envy;

“You got into a little trouble last night, brought you here to keep you save”

You scrub your face with a hand, mentally thanking him for not delving into the details of what you knew was a haunting moment of weakness.

God, you can’t believe you had done that, let yourself get so weak you sunk back into an addiction you thought you had overcome. It was harrowing how quick it had happened, one moment you were walking home and the next you were crowd-surfing across the bar.

“P.S, take the pill, it’s Advil and if I really wanted to poison you I would’ve done it in your sleep”

You scrutinise the white chalky pill anyway, observing the A outlined in the middle, you roll your eyes before looking down at your attire. Pink striped Pajamas.

You bristle as you realise he would have had to undress you whilst you were in a haze of drunkenness.

And suddenly that’s enough to reignite the temper that had been stamped out by the waves of liquor you had foolishly consumed.

He had lied to you, even if you felt protection here, he had lied, and he did it straight to your face. Did he think you were foolish? Just a stupid girl from a town no one knows that he could take advantage of? You couldn't bear to keep the fueled rage burning within you.

Reaching for the Advil, you swallow it with gulps of water that ease your parched throat, before searching around the enormous room for the clothes you had gotten drunk in. You find them folded neatly on an ottoman to the side, and make quick work of slipping them on before storming out of the room.

You don’t know where you're going, the endless hallways are as foreign to you as the paintings occupying the walls, but you follow the dyed carpet’s twists and turns hoping to stumble into Steve’s office.

Your mind is too preoccupied with the rage brewing within you, your eyes fail to catch the figure watching you closely from one of the hallway doors, causing you to stumble into a brick wall of pure muscle and heat.

You catch yourself at the last minute, looking up to meet familiar slate-grey eyes peering down at you in interest

“You’re up already?” Bucky says, his hand coming to steady you but retracting at the last minute and falling back into the pocket of his suit jacket.

“I want to speak to Steve” You reply, ignoring his attempt at small talk, or more so his declaration of your consciousness.

“Steve? Well-” Bucky beings before you cut him off momentarily

“Don’t give me that bullshit alright? I need to speak to Steve, now” You reply in indignation, Bucky watches you carefully, eyes scanning across your face as he nods slowly. You don't notice his eyes fixated on your fists wrapped in a tight fists. Your voice falters toward the end and you hope you sound as confident as you feel.

“Follow me” Bucky replies with a sigh, and as you walk side by side with Bucky, the click of his dress shoes clashes with the gruff sound of your work boots. You would never harmonise with this life, it's as clear as the shoes you wear.

You try and memorise the left and rights that Bucky takes you, as a kind of backup in case things go wrong and you need a way out, fast. It’s irrational you know, but you can only blame your husband for destroying your idea of rationality.

Bucky turns down a corridor, and you are immediately met with a rush of men in suits carrying boxes and briefcases, leaving and entering the enormous double french doors situated at the end of the hallway like an army of ants. Men stand stationed outside the doors and along the hallway unmoving, like formations of statues pillaring themselves in front of Steve.

The glint of their guns shines iridescent against the morning raze, and you understand that Bucky has some sort of clearance as they merely nod without a word as you pass them.

You and Bucky are about to pass through the double doors before a familiar face pokes at you, eyes widening at your presence in a clearly confidential space, the man that had talked with you with Bucky those weeks ago murmurs into Bucky's ear, the gruff sound of his voice hidden beneath hushed whispers.

You crain your ear to catch anything, but all you can make out is Bucky’s whisper of your name, along with “last night”. Sam shifts his gaze towards you, and a look you can't quite decipher falls over his face. Bucky is continuing to whisper to Sam but he doesn't take his eyes off of you, and finally, after a moment he simply nods and opens the door for the both of you.

The oak doors open into an enormous office space, the panelled french walls are washed with a chestnut gloss, oil paintings of war and glory hang on the walls and every corner has a designated purpose. A bar towards the left is graced with brown liquor in glass bottles and you have to turn away from it to calm the churning in your stomach.

Situated in the middle is a large walnut desk, carved with intricate patterns and relics along its sides, matching leather seats surrounding the desk, the floors a deep mahogany wood you crave to feel the cold touch of beneath your toes.

Men surround the office, some stationed behind the balcony windows, others near the bookcases lining the ceiling-high walls, and you don't notice it at first, but the second you walk in, everything stops. The sound of urgent whispers and conversations comes to a halt as they all stare towards you in fixed interest.

You didn't know this, but there had been no other individuals besides Steve’s men and himself, who had the ability to step foot into this floor of the house, let alone Steve's own office, and they can't help but ogle you like a piece of meat.

You catch their eyes all over you, pulling your stained cardigan closer against your body, you feel Bucky bristle beside you, his grunt of disapproval towards the men, shooting a silent warning that causes them to look away without a blink.

Steve's dirty blonde hair is tousled across his face, and he mutters something under his breath as he looks up from his seat at the office desk. His eyes immediately find you, unblinking as he never leaves your face, the papers in his grasp fall to the table, and let out an exhale as you match his gaze.

Bucky coughs and it’s as if Steve finally realises you're not the only person in the room,

“She wanted to speak to you,” Bucky says, his shoes tapping against the wooden floors, Bucky gives Steve a silent look, nodding towards the men fixated on your presence.

“Did I tell you all to stop?” Steve says in a booming voice you've never heard him use.

They all immediately get back to the phone calls in their hand and the tasks they had ignored at your expense. Steve stands from his seated position near the desk, his suit jacket laying over the office chair, leaving him in a crisp white shirt with a leather shoulder holster tucked into dark black suit pants.

Steve nods towards the balcony, and you step towards the glass doors slowly, you can feel the heat of Steve's hand near the small of your back, gently manoeuvring you through the room and men and through the doors of the balcony.

The gentle breeze of the morning lets you finally let in a breath you hadn't realised you had kept in, your eyes find themselves looking towards the manicured lawn below, gardeners and housekeepers are knelt pulling and plucking at the overgrown weeds, snipping away at leaves and bushes until they were smooth and pristine. Flowers are planted across the lawn, in a discreet way that makes you notice how the colours harmonise, and a ceramic fountain near the middle sprouts out water that shines against the sun.

You notice stepping stones snaking their way to the edge, leading to a vines archway where a vegetable garden hidden under a mesh covering meets your gaze, you try and look further past the vines walls, seeing the top of what looks like a stone pavilion under a low hanging tree that looks like its melting, but Steve steps towards you and you stop immediately.

“You wanted to tell me something?” Steve says, and you look towards him, eyeing his expression. He looks like he truly wants to listen to you and hear what you have to say despite the business of his life.

“Yes, I uh-” You start before the balcony doors open, and a slicked-back mop of black hair enters the balcony, the sound of a voice that you wish you would never hear again causing your stomach to twist into a sharp knot.

Rumlow whispers towards the man stationed beside the balcony doors, relieving him from his position and instead taking his place. His eyes find your own frozen ones, a glint of a smirk pulling at his features and he raises his eyebrows mockingly.

Steve notices the sick look that falls over your face, his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion at the sudden change in your demeanour.

“Hey, hey, you alright?” Steve asks in worry, but you can't take your eyes off of Rumlows condescending smile, as if he had known you would be here, his eyes almost threatening you to tell Steve what he had done before the tap of his pistol causes you to swallow down the bile rising from your throat.

“I um, I uh” You stutter out, and Steve looks at you in worry, his hands coming up to steady you causing you to flinch automatically.

“Fuck” Mutters Steve under his breath and he quickly retracts his hand, he begins to say something but you can’t hear anything besides the ringing in your ear and the rhythmic tap of Rumlows gun.

You shake your head, hands in tight fists that cause indentations to form in your palm, Rumlow clocks his head to the side, behind Steve, giving you a silent warning

Careful.

And he walks through the balcony doors and back into Steves's office like he was never there.

You let out a constricted breath, squeezing your eyes shut before opening them to make sure he was truly gone, Steve gently murmurs your name, and you turn your attention back to him, meeting concerned eyes.

Steve's words finally break through the surface, and your grapes his arm, causing goosebumps to arise across your skin. Steve looks up at you in surprise, his large hand coming to wrap yours around his, feeling the rapid beat of your heart slamming against your chest.

‘Just focus on me, alright? Don’t worry about anything else, I just want your eyes on me, okay? Can you do that for me?” Steve whispers, and you nod slowly. Watching the swirls of blue and grey clash like waves within his eyes.

You stay like this for a while, until the rapid beat of your pulse slows to a rhythmic beat, but Steves keeps your arms wrapped around his own, and you hope to god he does feel the goosebumps arising on your skin.

“What happened just now?” Steve says after a beat, his brow locks falling over his face

“I uh, I don't know, I just starting feeling sick,” You say, teeth biting down onto your bottom lip in nervousness.

Any other time that excuse had worked, whether it be at work or family or any other instance when you felt the ground beneath threaten to give way. But the way Steve looks at you now, in that air of scepticism, it’s like he doesn't believe a single thing that left your mouth.

And it's like you've been called out, the embarrassment of lying causing you to look away.

Steve sighs before nodding,

“I’ll get one of my men to arrange your drive home,” Steve says

“Could you, could Bucky take me home instead?” You say, and Steve looks towards you, a glint of something in his eye as he looks through the windows of the balcony doors, eyes fixated on Bucky before replying with a strained sure.

You step towards the balcony doors, hand coming up to grasp the handle before Steve stops you

“We are going to have to talk about it eventually,” Steve says

“Talk about what?” You turn your head to meet Steves's gaze

“Talk about why you're scared shitless of Rumlow” Steve replies, and you towards him in open-mouthed shock.

How did he know?

Steves share a pointed look, “I see everything, even things that happen behind my back. When I see you later tonight, do me a favour?”

You nod quickly, shutting your open mouth.

“Don’t lie to me” Steve mutters, before opening the balcony doors for you, his hand pressed tight against the small of your back as his warmth tickles the side of your neck.

[sunflowerdarlingx]

His Girl Chapter 1 - Steve Rogers

(18+)

Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader (Y/N and she/her pronouns used.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, smoking

Minors DNI

Introduction linked here / Chapter two

Steve was mesmerised by the girl beside him. She was breathtakingly beautiful. His eyes scanned over her body, taking in every ounce of her.

It is important to note that Steven Grant Rogers was not a relationship man - he didn’t even date. Ever since he lost his virginity, Steve found himself only ever engaging in casual sex. Normally with random women he met in his club or with associates who he could easily cut ties with. 

You should also know that Steve was never one to chase. Women always came to him and some practically begged to spend just one night with the mobster. This was an easy lifestyle for Steve, fucking when he needed to fuck with no strings attached. He never called or text the women he had been with and he made it extremely clear every single time that one time sex was all he wanted. Never letting himself get too close, only ever knowing a woman’s name, age and, well that was pretty much it. 

One might say that Steve Rogers has a fear of commitment. And you’d be right to think so. Steve knew he was involved in risky business and he never wanted to feel weak because of his feelings for another person. Weakness was not an option in the business he was involved in. 

He didn’t want to revolve his life around someone else, never pictured himself settling down until years from now. He enjoyed the structure he had in his life, revolving his days around business, the gym and his friends. This meant Steve came across as heartless, his stone cold heart holding no true love for that one special person. 

However, the girl next to him was the total opposite. 

She was a hopeless romantic, often falling for the wrong men who would break her heart. She was kind, compassionate and always did her best to make her partner happy. She often gave relationships her all and after a few months she would be left heartbroken as she was dumped for someone new. She never understood what she did wrong. Re-playing every break-up in her mind when a new heartbreak presented itself. 

She didn’t fear commitment in the way Steve did. She feared having her heart broken again. She feared trusting someone just for them to break it. She feared that she was no good. 

Her friends often say that she’s too trusting, easy prey for egotistical men who need a boost. Her friends were right. Once again, two weeks ago, her heart was broken. Today (her graduation day) was the first time she had properly left the house in weeks. She felt a bit deflated this morning when her dress hugged her a bit more than normal but she was a comfort eater and she knew that a few extra pounds made no real difference. She didn’t care about the way her body looked - a few extra pounds serving as a reminder that she was fuleing her body with all of the nutrients it needed. 

Y/n swore to her friends this morning that she was “never touching a man again”. She swore to celibacy.

She then swore that the next man who would feel her touch would be the one. The one she would spend the rest of her life with. Of course, her friends mocked her for the two statements that contradicted each other and all ended up in a fit of giggles at her frustrated pout. 

_________________

As the night went on, the groups got to know each other more and soon a few of the girls joined the mobsters as they all arrived at Steve’s club. The three men sat in a private booth as they watched the girls dance. 

It was weird, Steve felt drawn to the girl in front of him. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of the way her hips moved or the way her head tilted back when she giggled. Bucky smirked and elbowed Steve’s side when he caught her staring “careful punk, you’re drooling again”. Sam roared with laughter as Steve’s jaw clenched, his hand raising to give Bucky the middle finger. Steve watched her, his mind attempting to process how someone so innocent in their appearance could present themselves in such a seductive way. He couldn’t wait to have her in his bed. 

As the night went on, the girls joined the men and Steve found himself outstretching his arm behind his fixation that he only met hours ago. 

“I need a smoke” he announced and asked if Buck or Sam wanted to come but they were both occupied by Nat and Wanda. 

Steve felt a tug on his jacket as he stood up, “I can come keep you company” y/n shouted over the booming music. Her bright eyes stared up at Steve and he gave her a nod before placing his hand on the small of her back as he guided her outside to the private smoking area. 

He got a good look at her outside under the warm heat lights that surrounded the area. She had a tinge of pink to her cheeks and her eyes held a drunken haze as she stood in front of him. She was a great deal shorter than the 6’5 mobster and watched intently as Steve lit a cigarette.

“Want one sweetheart?” He held the carton open for her and popped one up for her to take. She shook her head shyly and Steve put them back into his jacket pocket. 

“Are you having a goodnight?” Steve asked after a trail of smoke left his lips away from the girl in front of him. 

“Oh it’s been great! Thank you so much for taking us here, it’s been so much fun” y/n giggled and beamed up at Steve with appreciation.

“You’re welcome any time sweetheart, I’ll make sure to add all of your names to the door in the future. No entry fee and no waiting in line” he winked and moved to sit down at one of the outdoor tables.

“Wow, that would be amazing! I definitely want to go out with the girls more over summer because once the school term starts I'll be snowed under”. Steve nodded understandingly and pulled out a seat for him to join her. 

They engaged in more chit chat while Steve finished his cigarette. “Do you want to get out of here? I’ve got a meeting in the morning but wouldn’t mind some company for a night cap?”. 

Steve watched as a look of contemplation took over her features. Normally y/n would have said yes, she would have jumped at the opportunity to go home with the handsome man in front of her but after her break up she wasn’t so sure if it was a good idea. 

“C’mon sweetheart, it’s just a drink” Steve sent her a cheeky smile that had her melting and agreeing to a drink back at his. The pair headed back to the booth and gathered their things. 

“Oh my goodness” Wanda giggled as y/n let the girls know where she was going, “this is exciting! He’s handsome” she winked as y/n blushed under the dark lights. 

“What happened to ‘the next one to touch will be the one’ speech you gave us earlier!” Nat teased as she poked cheekily at the girl's side.

“It’s just a drink” y/n insisted, “and he said he would get a car to take me home when i’m ready. There will be no touching” she stated matter of factly. The girls both rolled their eyes and giggled when Steve came to whisk their friend away. 

Steve guided y/n out of the club and into a blacked out jeep, Steve reached over to buckle Y/n into the seat and she blushed at the way his hand grazed over her chest as he pulled the seat belt over her.

“Safety first” he winked “take us to the apartment Scott”.  

Chapter Two

[imaginedreamwrite]

Soft mafia Steve gets dragged to a craft store because our dear reader wants to get his artist side out again after he worked too much lately. Maybe crafting some cute Christmas decorations could help

“You’re exhausting yourself.” He hears you from the bedroom and sees you in the reflection of the mirror sitting cross legged on the bed, your hands tucked under your chin. “You need a vacation.”

“A vacation with my little ballerina? Somewhere hot and sunny, my sweet wife naked on a beach-“ Steve’s lips twitched and a smirk was on the cusp as he caught the moment you had faltered.

“That’s not what I meant…” you diverted your attention and then he saw you moving to get off the bed, striding toward the closet. “You should take a vacation by yourself.”

“Where are you going?” Steve left the bathroom, dressed in a soft cotton shirt that hugged his broad chest and shoulders, a pair of dark wash jeans that’s hugged his legs and thighs, and a sleek dark leather jacket that made him look like a runway model.

“I’m going to an art supply place,” you drew yourself away from the closet after grabbing a cardigan, “wanna come with me?”

“A date, little ballerina?” Steve hummed, coming to stand behind you with his hands resting on your hips. “What do you need today?”

“A few things.” You hummed and leaned back against his chest. “You could always stay here-“

“We’ll get coffee,” Steve brushed his lips against your neck, softly caressing your skin, “and then get lunch.”

“Aren’t you too busy?”

“Not for my wife.” Steve crooned and kissed you once more before he pulled away. “Let’s get out of here.”

** ** **

“Have you thought about sketching and painting again?” Your question breaks the silence as you wander from one aisle to the next, gathering a few things and dropping them into the cart you were pushing.

Steve’s hand has been steadily resting on your back as he walked with you, his fingers curling against the soft cardigan you wore, his hip occasionally bumping against your own. He was a steady and gorgeous, albeit intimidating, figure as he stalked along beside you and looked at the Christmas themed selection.

“You overwork yourself, you need to relax and take a load off.” You reached for another item and dropped it into the cart, gathering a mass of separate pieces to create Christmas decorations for your home.

“Would you like me to return to artwork?” Steve wondered, turning you to face him head-on. “To help myself relax, I would need a model.”

“A model?” Your hand paused against his chest, your eyes wandering from his chest to his ocean blue-green eyes.

“How about…” Steve had gathered a string of pearl garland and ran his thumb over the delicate beads. “…we get these and I’ll wrap them around your perfect little body, and then I’ll sketch.”

“Just this?” Your voice shook, your heart racing. “And me-“

“-naked, sweetheart. I’m gonna sketch you naked all dolled up for me for Christmas.”

[vxntagedior]

fantasy

summary | you could only dream of what you truly wanted to do with your life while being stuck

pairing | mob!steve rogers x fem!reader

warning | angst, fluff, mob life, arranged marriage

word count | 1.6k

You were born into ‘the life’, one that you could never escape, no matter how hard you tried. Since you were able to walk, you were surrounded by bodyguards, treated like a princess by your father’s men.

When you were younger, you thought it was amazing, even when your father came home, a new toy in his hand for you, giving you a distraction from all the blood that still lingered on his clothes.

As time went on and you became older, a teenager who just wanted to live her life, your father kept it sheltered, saying it was the best for you and he didn’t want anything to happen to you. 

Going to college was a dream of yours, finally being off on your own was perfect for you, though you were only a few hours away from home you got the freedom you desired for years. You loved your father, you did, coming home every holiday to spend it with him, and you were crying when you saw him cheering for you when you graduated.

Both of you knew that there was a time when you were to take over everything your father worked for since he was your age, and with that, came marriage. 

Steve was a respectable man, his family in a business similar to yours, and coming back from college midway through his senior year when his father passed away, he now was head of the Rogers’ family.

He was someone you needed to grow to love, your fathers words, he could provide you with a life you would enjoy.

At times you believed it, he never hurt you, gave you the reins of the house the two of you shared only because it was the only thing you occupied.

When your father passed away, you and Steve wed faster than you expected, knowing that there were going to be people who wanted to take over your share because you were a woman and with Steve, it gave a clear message that the two of you were going to thrive.

You gave Steve your share of the business, it never was your desire to keep up with it, you wanted to travel, have fun in your 20s before settling down.

You never blamed Steve or your father just always wondered what would you do if somehow this wasn’t your life, you were born into a normal family.

When you graduated university, coming home, your father promised you that you would be able to take a year to yourself and go anywhere you desired, but he got sick later that year.

The dream never really went away, you were scared to ask Steve because of the thought of rejection, saying it was dangerous for you to leave knowing the multiple threats that were towards you.

Italy was the first place you wanted to visit, having a good understanding of the language and culture, it was a dream spot. Constantly looking at photos, it just made it worse for you knowing you’d probably never leave New York.

But yet each night you’d look at flights and hotels, coming up with an itinerary of all the things you wanted to do. You kept all secret to Steve, not wanting to think anything of it, it was a fantasy to you now.

You didn’t expect Steve to be home so early, quickly trying to remove any trace of you being on the computer in the office, coming down to the kitchen to make him dinner.

“Hello love.” He smiled at you, kissing the top of your head. Your relationship got better overtime, being more affectionate with each other but there was still so much tension between the two of you that neither of you wanted to talk about.

“Hi.” You gave him a small smile, even being seen as his equal, he still had his dominance over you, something you feared at times. “I’m almost done with dinner, go freshen up.”

Shooing him away, you plated the chicken, setting it down in his spot and yours, waiting for him to come back so you both could eat together.

Starting to come back downstairs, Steve went into his office to set a few papers out for later, seeing the computer still on. Hovering the mouth on the screen, he saw your past history, the hotels, the flights to Italy. He furrowed his brows, knowing you never spoke about going anywhere and yet here you were starting to plan a secret getaway.

Coming back downstairs, going into the dining room, he saw you patiently waiting for him, kissing your temple before sitting down and starting his own dinner.

Neither of you talked, the sounds of your cutlery hitting against the plate, Steve wanted to ask you about the trip but knew it probably wasn’t for him to know if you kept it so secret.

It went on like that for the next couple days, Steve giving you some space between the two of you, you noticed it quickly, not leaving a note in the morning, skipping dinner and going straight to his office when he came home.

On the third day, it was time you decided to confront him on how he had become distant.

“Steve.” You knocked on the office, hearing the muffled ‘come in’ from the other side.

“Is everything alright?” He barely looked up from his papers, finally looking up when you hadn’t spoken, seeing you now sitting in the chair across from him.

“I could ask you the same.” You sighed. “You’ve been distant, more than usual. I understand that our marriage wasn’t one of our doing and I get that we still don’t know each other that well but I assumed that we still had respect for each other.”

“Thought it would be better for you when you were to leave.” He muttered.

“What?” You asked.

“I know about Italy.” He finally looked you in the eye. “A saw the flights, the hotel a few days ago and I assumed that you didn’t tell me because I’m not going with you.”

“Steve.” You sighed.

“If getting away from me can make you truly happy, I’ll support, pay for a house, enough for you to stay afloat.” He said in agony, but just wanting the best for you.

“Steve.” You said again. “I don’t want to leave you, you’re my husband.” Reaching your hand over the desk, the pen out of his hand replacing it with yours. “That was a dream, a fantasy from something I wanted to do before we married and I know that it’s just dangerous for me to go out into the city. After I graduated from college, my father promised me a chance to explore the world for a year before I started graduate school but he got sick and you know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He frowned.

“I knew that it wouldn’t be able to happen now, you have too much going on and I don’t think you’d want me to be on my own. I’ve gotten over it Steve, there’s nothing to worry about, I’m going to start dinner if you’d like to join me.”

Much to your surprise, Steve did come for dinner thirty minutes later, a folder in his hands. Placing it on the table, he pushed it towards you.

Your mind going to the darkest of ideas, you were nervous. “What is this?”

“A hotel in Italy for two weeks, and tickets for 2, if you let me join you.” He said hopefully. Your eyes widened, carefully looking through all the documents before looking back up at your husband.

“Steve.” You said in disbelief.

“What kind of husband am I if I know you’re in misery here and would rather do something you enjoy, this trip is for you, and if you let me, I’d go anymore with you.”

“What about-”

“Don’t worry about the business, the company, any of it.” He shook his head. “I want this to hopefully be a time where we can hopefully get to know each other better, be happy together in this marriage.”

Getting out of your chair, running towards you, wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He loud a grunt at the sudden impact, helping you into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist. Kissing your cheek, he rested his chin on your shoulder, happy and content.

-

You could barely stay still in your seat. The jet was occupied by the two of you, your head constantly looking out of the window when the pilot said the two of you were soon to depart.

“Look, Stevie look.” You squealed, seeing the city through the clouds, the lights bright enough for you to see it even still thousands of feet in the air, illuminating the city during the darkness.

“I see.” He smiled, his arm wrapped around your hips, looking out of the window with you. “Are you excited?”

“Of course, I have everything planned. We're going to go to the hotel tonight, have breakfast there in the morning, go sightseeing and go out for dinner together.” You smiled. 

Steve had never seen you so happy, his thumb rubbing against your hip bone. “Seems like you have it all figured out.”

“I’ve had it figured out for years, and now it’s all coming true and I get to experience it with you.” You turned towards him, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. 

As you parted, Steve pecked your lips once again before you turned back to the window, resting your head on his shoulder, descending lower and lower into the city.

fin.

[thezombieprostitute]

Hummingbird - Series Masterlist

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Epilogue

Asks:

Hummingbird's Favorites

Kisses

Steve Sees You

Thief AU

[navybrat817]

Hello, lovelies! As a working mom and writer, I often fall behind on reading and reblogging fics from fellow writers. I decided to take part in the Stardust Reblog Challenge put together by @natrace as a small step to change that! My goal is to reblog one fic a day between September 1st and December 31st, hopefully more! Below are the fics shared and will feature Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans characters (for now). Show these writers some love and please heed any warnings provided. Enjoy!

Moodboard by yours truly and dividers by the talented @saradika.

September Fics

9/1 - It Had to Be You (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @s-tarksintern

9/2 - Plan B (Dark!Ari Levinson x Reader, Dark!Andy Barber) by @slyyywriting

Happy Birthday Doll (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @secretswiftymarvelfan

9/3 - Truth Conquers All - Part 1 (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @yarnforbrains

9/4 - Waiting for This (Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Reader) by @musingsinmoonlight

9/5 - You Really Wanna Do This Now? (Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader) by @luxeavenger

Lap Time (Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader) by @tumblin-theworldaway

9/6 - Infinity (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

9/7 - Chaleur (Pre-serum!Steve Rogers x Reader) by @moonstruckbucky

9/8 - Monster (Bucky Barnes one-shot) by @moonbeambucky

9/9 - Comfort (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @jewels2876

9/10 - Drunk Or Baby (Andy Barber x Reader) by @fictional-affairs

9/11 - Baker's Dozen (Dark!Steve Rogers x Black!Reader) by @boxofbonesfic

9/12 - Dangerous Dance (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @princessmisery666

9/13 - Hands (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @qu1etwolf

9/14 - Cold Little Paws (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @majestyeverlasting

9/15 - Fingers (Tattoo!Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @buckycuddlebuddy

9/16 - Spooky Season (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

9/17 - Into This World, We're Thrown (Steve Kemp x Reader) by @onceuponastory

Lee Bodecker in the Fall (Lee Bodecker x Reader) by @treatbuckywkisses

Blind as a Bat (Jake Jensen x Reader) by @pagesoflauren

9/18 - Sleepy (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @sweetdreamsbuck

Prism (Robert Pronge x Reader) by @needleandhammer

9/19 - Playing For Keeps (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @tuiccim

Narcissist (Ransom Drysdale x Reader) by @chrissquares

9/20 - Boring, Boring, Boring (Lloyd Hansen x Dark!Reader) by @rustytricycle

9/21 - A Gentleman in the Streets (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @christywantspizza

9/22 - Love by Moonlight (Werewolf!Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader) by @strangeprincex-writes

9/23 - Down a Rabbit Hole (Dark!Jefferson x Reader) by @sgt-seabass

9/24 - Happy Ending (Steve Rogers x Mutant!Reader) by @nekoannie-chan

9/25 - Once Upon a Blue Moon - Part 1 (Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader) by @sagechanoafterdark

9/26 - Hold Me Please? (Stucky x Reader) @doasyoudesireandlive

9/27 - Personal Project (Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @slothspaghettiwrites

9/28 - Autumn Remembered (Ari Levinson x Reader x Andy Barber) by @wayward-blonde

Soft Ransom (Ransom Drysdale x Asian!Reader) by @brandycranby

Disarmed (Jake Jensen x Reader) by @ghotifishreads

9/29 - Would I Lie to You? (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @cockslutpadalecki

9/30 - Dirty Dishes (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @jen-with-a-pen

Parade (Steve Rogers x Reader) by @rodrikstark

Possession (Lloyd Hansen x Black!Reader) by @xsapphirescrollsx

October Fics

10/1 - Who's Your Daddy? (Destroyer!Chris x Reader) by @emerald-chaos

10/2 - In the Weeds (Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader) by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

10/3 - Meet Your Match (Dark Serial Killer!Ransom Drysdale x Reader) by @dreamlessinparis

10/4 - Make a Wish (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @sweeterthanthis

10/5 - Post Break Up (Hal Carter x Reader) by @writing-what-writing

10/6 - Unwell (Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @msmarvelwrites

10/7 - Watching Your Footsteps (Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader) by @lokislastlove

10/8 - Abduction (Curtis Everett x Reader) by @georgiapeach30513

10/9 - Rogers Family Recipe (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Enchant (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

10/10 - I.O.U. (Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

10/11 - A Whittle More Practice (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Dance in the Dark (Ghost!Steve Rogers x Asian!Reader)

10/12 - Meeting GiGi (Steve Rogers x Reader)

10/13 - See What You Do to Me? (Nomad!Steve Rogers x Reader)

The Things You Do (Steve Rogers x Reader)

November Fics

December Fics

December Masterlist

[talesofadragon]

𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬

Synopsis: The world was not created in colors to be lived seldom in white, black, or even gray. This is what Y/N believed, and she resolutely refuses to be told otherwise. But when a night at the city’s most prestigious nightclub triggers a series of misfortunate events, Y/N’s world of hues is thrown off balance, colliding with a stranger whose eyes may be blue but his world is a handful of shades too dark.  

Pairing: Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Mature scenes. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 2.8K

Chapter 1 - Flat White | Varicolored Schemes Masterlist

𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐖 York’s gateway to damnation.

Celebrated as the epitome of New York's nightlife, the club stood tall as a beacon of ecstasy. Its alluring neon lights and captivating fire displays worked their magic, casting a spell on anyone who entered. Not to mention how the bartenders' artistry in concocting sinful drinks and the hypnotic rhythm of the music had the power to transport patrons to the very edge of heaven's precipice.

Everyone loved Purgatory. Everyone except Y/N. She harbored not even a modicum of affinity for the newly inaugurated business. In her rather abashed opinion, Purgatory was a breathing disaster. The crimson walls reminded her of Christian Gray’s outrageous BDSM room, and the obsidian marble bar sparked memories of Voldemort’s reign of terror. Yes, black and red were colors that went well together, but the falu red walls were anything but flattering when the amber lights glided over them.

It was outrageous how long the waiting list was for a place as distasteful as this. Though the only redeeming factor, to some extent, was the quality of the drinks. But the bartender seriously needed to draw the limit for those who callously consumed alcohol as if they were born in Russia and had gained supernatural immunity against vodka’s kicks and punches.

Three guys had already attempted to take Y/N to the bathroom, which was a despicable shade of merlot, for a quick shag. And only one of the three walked away without the promise of a kiss from her pepper spray because he had been pulled by the ear by whom Y/N assumed was his girlfriend.

And to top it all off, Yelena, Y/N’s best friend, had disappeared somewhere in the crowd and wasn’t answering any of her texts. Feeling exasperated, Y/N retrieved her phone from her pocket. If Yelena continued to ignore her text messages, then it was time to make a call. Maybe the incessant vibration of her phone for a solid minute would finally capture Yelena's attention. The phone rang five times before Yelena finally picked up, and to Y/N’s misfortune, her friend didn’t sound alone.

“Please tell me you’re not on the phone with me while having sex with some guy.”

“I am not on the phone with you while having sex,” Yelena replied indignantly. There was some shuffling from her end of the line, audibly heard from the lack of blaring music. “I’m getting pizza with some people I met at the club.”

“You’re what? With who? And you didn’t think to tell me!”

“I’m telling you now.”

“How considerate of you,” Y/N seethed, gripping her phone tighter. She was already speeding out of the club, pushing her way through the drunken herd. “You couldn’t have informed me of your plans when you ditched me forty-five minutes ago?”

“No, because I didn’t have any plans forty-five minutes ago. I just had them five minutes before you called.”

Y/N inwardly groaned. Now that she was outside the club, she was certain that Yelena must have heard her. She forcefully yanked on the car door handle, hastening to insert the key into the ignition. "Seriously, Yelena? I can't believe you abandoned me for a group of strangers!"

"Hey!" Yelena chided. "I didn't ditch you for them. I ditched you for pizza."

“Yel—”

“Luigi’s Pizza.”

“Luigi’s! That’s all the way across town. Are you sure it's a good idea to go there with people you just met?”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to be talking on the phone while driving?”

“You’re on Bluetooth speaker right now,” Y/N fired back. She was starting to get visibly irritated.

“Good for you. Lock the doors while you’re driving, and keep the pepper spray close to you.”

Is she seriously going over a road safety protocol with me right now? Y/N thought. “You’re with a bunch of strangers. In a car that’s not your own. Going to goddamn Luigi’s at four in the morning! And you’re lecturing me about safety?”

“Yes,” came Yelena’s answer. Her tone was a perfect mix of exasperation and incredulity. “Besides, they should be more afraid of me than I will ever be of them.” Y/N couldn’t argue with that. “Now, let me focus on the road, птичка.”

“Are you really the one driving, Yel?” Y/N asked.

“Of course I am. You’d think I’d let some stranger drive me to Luigi’s?”

Y/N couldn't help but burst into laughter. It was such a quintessential Yelena remark. She was just about to caution her friend to stay safe when the call abruptly disconnected, leaving behind a resounding beep that filled the ensuing silence. She had to applaud Yelena for her dual role as both a nuisance and an entertainer.

Deciding not to bother and call again, Y/N focused on getting herself home. Fifteen minutes away from her house, she turned on her blinker and took a right turn. Unaware of the glass shards on the road ahead, Y/N let out a shriek when a loud popping noise flooded her ears. Her hands tightened their hold on the steering wheel as realization dawned on her: something was awry with her car. Its movements became increasingly hesitant, raising her anxiety levels with each passing moment.

By some stroke of luck, Y/N managed to park her car on the side of the road. Taking a few moments to collect herself, she focused on calming her racing thoughts. Without delay, she activated her emergency lights and cautiously stepped out of the vehicle. As she rounded the car, her gaze immediately landed on the deflated tire.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Frustration surged through Y/N as she swiftly retrieved her phone and dialed Yelena's number. The phone rang twice, briefly fanning the flames of Y/N’s hope, before the call abruptly ended. Trying once more, she stomped her feet on the road in frustration when it went straight to voicemail. "Goddamn Luigi’s! And goddamn you, Yelena Belova!"

When Yelena had invited her to Purgatory, Y/N didn’t think that she was going to be balancing on the edge of hell, her grip on sanity hanging by a thread.

She glared at her flat tire, her eyes wandering to the glass shards a couple of feet away and then to the dark sky above her. It was way too early for this shit. And while yes, Y/N did have a spare tire in her trunk, she had no idea how to change it. So, she did what any sane person would do in such a situation. She yelled out in frustration and kicked the goddamn thing.

After releasing her frustration, she got into the car and settled in the driver’s seat. Locking her doors and making sure her pepper spray was close by, Y/N started googling a 24/7 roadside assistance service. As her search results loaded in a flash, a sudden knock on her window stole her attention from the glowing screen, drawing her gaze to mesmerizing blue eyes on the other side of the glass.

Startled, Y/N jolted in her seat, instinctively leaning away from the window. However, her initial fear quickly transformed into astonishment as she focused on the man standing on the other side of the glass. He motioned for her to roll down her window, and she complied. Although the window only opened partially, leaving only a small gap, the stranger didn't seem to mind.

"Hello, ma'am," he greeted with a hint of a smile. His poised voice and penetrating blue eyes sent shivers down Y/N's spine.

She cleared her throat, trying to mask any hint of trepidation. "Hi," she replied, her voice steadier than she felt inside.

“I saw that you have a flat tire. Can I help you in any way?”

Y/N hesitated, glancing between him and her phone, unsure of how to respond. She waited for a moment, attempting to appear nonchalant, before replying, "Thank you. I appreciate the offer, but I'd rather call for roadside assistance."

"At four in the morning?" He tilted his head slightly to the right, and Y/N felt a nervous gulp rise in her throat. She couldn't tell if it was his chiseled jaw or his imposing gaze that unsettled her. "If you get a hold of them, it might take them an hour to get here. I can fix your tire in five minutes."

Y/N gnawed at her lower lip, torn between the convenience of accepting the stranger's help and her initial hesitation. She glanced between him and the road, contemplating her options. Did she really want to stay locked in her car for an entire hour, or did she want to get home quickly and rest in the comfort of her own bed?

"Besides a spare tire, I don't have a repair kit or anything," she admitted, her expression now tinged with a hint of hopelessness. While she was willing to accept the man's assistance, she feared that it might not be enough to get her back on the road.

The stranger's lips twitched, forming a reassuring smile that strangely comforted Y/N. "Don't worry about that. I've got you covered." His words seemed to carry an air of confidence that put her at ease.

Nodding her head, Y/N reached out to open the car door. The stranger fell back a step, extending a hand to help her out of her car. She cautiously accepted it, surprised by the softness of his touch and the delicate gesture.

As soon as she was out, he let go of her hand. Though his touch was polite and fleeting, Y/N found herself needing it to anchor her when she finally focused on him. She couldn't help but be struck by his height. Despite having to lean down to face her window, he easily towered over six feet.

Blinking owlishly, she fiddled with her keys before pressing a button to open the trunk. When the stranger passed her to grab the spare tire, she noticed him motioning for the two men in the black car behind her. She bristled, eyes wary. Her shoulders immediately relaxed when one of them fished out the tire repair kit and handed it to the stranger.

“Here you go, boss,” the man with brown hair tied in a bun said.

He straightened his black blazer, offering a brief nod in Y/N's direction. She eyed him curiously, following his light steps. Turning her attention back to the blond man, she couldn't help but feel intrigued. "What's your name?" she inquired.

He looked up at her, his piercing blue eyes meeting her gaze before he replied, "Steven. Though most people call me Steve, ma'am."

"Y/N," she clarified, introducing herself while absently placing a hand on her arm. Partly rubbing away the intrigue that slithered through her body and mostly attempting to conceal the areas her short mauve dress exposed.

“Y/N,” Steve enunciated. His delicate and euphonious words were a stark contrast to his intimidating stature. He studied her, regarding the way she shifted from one foot to another. She bit down on her tongue, ready to react in case of any abrupt movement. To her surprise, Steve shrugged off his jacket and extended it to her. “Would you mind holding on to it? I wouldn’t want to get it dirty.”

“Sure.” Her voice came out breathless, caught off guard by his request. She took the jacket from Steve’s hand, noting how he moved his fingers around to avoid brushing hers. The action was both welcome and disappointing because, despite Y/N's guarded demeanor, she couldn't help but feel drawn to Steve's enigmatic presence and the subtle grace with which he moved.

“You can put it on.”

“What?”

Steve laughed slightly at Y/N’s oblivious state. He regarded her as she hugged the piece of fabric close to her body, noting the way the faint street light glided over her soft features. “It’s cold. And if you insist on standing in the open road, I’d feel much better if you kept yourself warm.”

Y/N's fingers clenched tightly onto the fabric of Steve's leather jacket. The warmth that surged through her body in response to his words was palpable, yet she masked her emotions with caution. "It's alright," she responded carefully. "Thank you, but I really don't need to."

"I insist," Steve countered, his gaze carrying an air of authority. She found herself yielding to it, unable to resist. As soon as she placed the jacket on her shoulders, her nose embraced the dizzying scent of sandalwood and bourbon. She dug her hands into the jacket’s pockets, feeling at ease in Steve’s presence. “Do you live far?”

“Fifteen minutes away,” she replied.

Steve was currently engrossed in adjusting the new tire, and Y/N took the opportunity to quietly observe him. Her eyes traced his skillful fingers as they gripped the tire, and she found herself captivated by his blond hair and the strands that fell gently across his eyes.

“New Yorker?”

She shook her head. “I actually moved here a couple of months back. I’m from Washington.”

“Really? That’s where I met Sam,” Steve remarked, gesturing towards the car parked behind them where the two men sat. Y/N’s gaze shifted to the tall, black man with a laid-back expression, whom she identified as Sam. “Him and Bucky, the one beside him, are my best friends.”

“Didn’t the one with the man bun, uhh, Bucky, call you boss?”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, it’s definitely a long story,” he admitted, leaving the details unspoken. After a brief pause, his curiosity turned toward Y/N. “What about you?” he inquired. “Made any friends here?”

“Not much,” she hummed. “Except for a best friend who decided that forgoing a slice of Luigi’s pizza in favor of keeping me company would be sacrilegious.”

The roaring of Steve’s laughter was welcome in the dimly lit road. For a moment, he forgot all about fixing the tire, letting his attention fall on Y/N. His voice was full of mirth as he spoke, “Luigi’s is a godsend. Tell her to try the Brooklyn special. It’s my favorite.”

“Now I know what to get you as a thank you for your services.”

“Don’t you worry about that, doll.” Steve flashed her a winsome smile, and she just knew that the goosebumps on her skin were not caused by the crisp wind around them. I’m just glad to have crossed your path.”

As Steve spoke, Y/N watched him deftly dust off his fingers and tidy up the tools. The five minutes seemed to pass all too quickly, much to Y/N's disappointment. He efficiently organized everything back in its designated spot, and when she tried to lend a hand, he kindly gestured for her to stop with a raised hand. Meanwhile, Bucky stepped out of the car and retrieved the kit from Steve, who was now carefully placing the old tire in Y/N’s trunk.

“I really can’t thank you enough for this,” YN expressed sincerely.

Steve closed her trunk, leaning against her car with a radiant grin. “It’s no problem at all.” He fished out a card holder from the pocket of his jeans and offered it to Y/N. “If you ever need anything, or you lose your friend to Luigi’s and find yourself in need of someone to talk to, don’t hesitate to give me a call. Even if it’s at four in the morning.”

Y/N's gaze fixed upon the card, her eyes gliding over the elegant golden letters delicately engraved on the sleek black paper. The minimalistic design caught her attention, showcasing only the essential contact details. It held a certain allure, an understated elegance that piqued her curiosity.

“Thank you,” she found herself saying. She wished she could say more, but the whole encounter had left her astounded. It was a wonder her brain even managed to form two words.

Reluctantly, Y/N observed Steve nodding his head as he bid her goodbye. He took his place in the back of his car but didn’t motion for Bucky to move. It took her a moment, perhaps a moment too long, to grasp that he was waiting for her to safely settle in her own car before he would depart.

Immediately, Y/N jumped in her car and turned it on. She waved at Steve as he passed by her car and went on his way. Suddenly, a realization struck Y/N like a striking lightning bolt. Two thoughts reverberated in her mind with newfound clarity.

Yelena’s unexpected disappearance turned out to be far more favorable than Y/N had initially thought. And to add to the intrigue, Steve had not only left her with his phone number but with his jacket and an open invitation to call him whenever she wanted. The weight of these revelations settled upon her, igniting a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

The day was shaping out to be a good one. Or so she thought.

: ̗̀➛ Read Chapter 2 | Morally Gray

Series Taglist: @crazyunsexycool

From a "one shot" that was not supposed to exceed 6k words to a series, here's to hoping I make it a good one. Thank you for reading this! What are your thoughts so far?

[buckyalpine]

18 + That is your warning so stop reading. Imagine being an absolute slut for your bodyguard Bucky even though your very much so dating Steve.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you" Steve snarled, picking up his pace while you hiccupped, "You filthy fuckin' slut, you worked up and down on his cock didn't you, I'm the only one who gets to fuck you like this"

“But I love riding his dick daddy” You wailed while bouncing on Steve's cock, biting you lip, your eyes rolling back thinking about how Bucky stretched you open like a whore, splitting you in half. "I wan Bucky's cock" You sobbed, sounding needier than ever and it made Steve leak.

"Fuck sugar, that right? You're that much of a desperate slut, you want my best friends cock?"

"Uh-huh" you nodded, nearly going cross eyed, making an utter mess all over the dark blond curls at the base of Steve's cock. He didn't stop his harsh thrusts as the door clicked open, your body guard striding into the office, his cock already rock hard.

"Hey pretty girl" Bucky cooed, smirking at how cockdrunk you were while he rounded he corner of the desk to where you were splayed across Steve's lap where he sat in his office chair. He traced your pouty bottom lip before slipping his thumb into your mouth, humming in satisfaction at the way you sucked it, moaning around the metal digit.

"Go on, finish what I started" Steve nodded while you squeaked as Bucky picked up you up effortlessly off of Steve's cock, and tossing you over his shoulder.

"Need my cock, huh Bambi, that all?" Bucky's wide palm rubbed your sore ass where Steve had spanked you, turning over to place a quick kiss onto the hot skin before laying you down on the table. You let out a needy moan at the sound of his belt hitting the floor, so deep in subby space, spreading your legs extra wide as he pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock.

"Look at that, such a good girl, spreading her legs for me" Bucky leaned over to take a good look at you, your dazed expression and wiggling hips making his balls impossibly heavy. "Wanna show Steve how well you take my cock baby? Show him how I make you moan and cum, n'how I play with that cute little button between your legs?"

"Mph, Bucky please" You whined, pouting at the disappointed tsk Bucky made.

"That's not what you call me Bambi, c'mon, whose cock do you want, say it"

"Fuck me, Sergeant-OH-MY-GODD" You cried out as Bucky slammed into you, setting in a brutal pace without waring, your body bouncing against the desk as he gripped onto your hips.

"That's-it-good girl-good. fucking. girl" Bucky snarled through gritted teeth, slamming your body down onto his cock, his head thrown back, moving one hand to wrap around your neck. He was too enamored with you to notice the way Steve's hand was wrapped around his cock, working his swollen, silky tip, watching his pretty princess take his best friend like her life depended on it.

Bucky spat right onto your clit, rubbing tight circles around you with a feral look on his face feeling you squeeze around him, bending your thighs up till they hit your chest, hitting a deeper angle.

"Feel that? M'so deep in your pussy baby, s'fuckin' deep, can feel your little clit throbbing, it's all swollen huh Bambi, you're soaking my cock, make a mess all over it princess, it's all yours"

"Sergeant-gonna-I-" You couldn't forumalte words, tears streaming down your face and falling onto the desk under you, the band in your belly ready to snap-

"You gonna cum for my best friend babygirl?" Steve's focus was locked in at where Bucky was connected to you, watching his cock slam in and out of your tight cunt, stretching you wide open, his own cock growing impossibly harder, "Fuck, you're a dirty slut, I'm gonna-fuck m'cumming" Steve's voice was breathless, his chest heaving as he worked his cock faster, eyes rolling back as white streams of cream decorated his black shirt, nearly shooting to his beard. "Holy shit"

"BUCKY M'CU-UMINGG" You wailed, your back arching off the table, screaming with every muscle in your body pulled taught. You couldn't tell where your orgasm began or where it ended, unending waves of pleasure drowning you while Bucky began to chase his own.

"Cum for your Sergeant baby, that's it, such a good girl, you make my cock so hard Bambi, y'feel so good, not gonna last, shittt-HNG" Bucky let out a guttural moan, not giving a fuck that Steve was right there, pumping you full of his cum until his balls were empty and his cock was soft. He tucked himself back in his pants before removing his shirt to wipe you down and picking you up, letting you wrap yourself around him like a koala. Your boyfriend followed closely behind, smirking at the needy noise you made, checking to see that Steve was also coming for some post sex naps, sighing contently when you saw him following near by.

"Off to bed, Bambi"

[veltana]

No one as sweet as you - Mafia!Stucky/Reader

✦ Pairing: Stucky/Reader ✦ Word count: ~9,4k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings: Mafia AU, best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, protective!stucky, TW: reader is verbally and physically abused by john walker, idiots in love, sharing a bed, poly relationship, piv sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus, praise kink, pet names (Sweets), unprotected sex, creampie. ✦ Summary: When you’re hurt by your boyfriend you go to the two people you can depend on for anything, Steve and Bucky, your best friends. ✦ Note: This is a fic that was previously posted on AO3, at the beginning of the year. But since I'm stuck in writer's block right now I thought I would post this in case you haven't read it. It's one of my favorites. There are some short prequel fics to this also posted on AO3, about when they were living together in college. I'll post those too in the following weeks.

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

The bouncer gives you one glance before he opens the door for you and the line of people you pass shout angrily but you don’t even spare them a glance, your thoughts elsewhere. The music in the club usually invigorates you but tonight it passes through without leaving a trace.

Making your way to Monica at the bar, the people you pass shoot you weird glances and you know you must look a mess. When she sees you she comes right over, the music is too loud to talk so you share a squeeze of the forearm in place of a hug before she pours you your favorite wine, with a pitying smile at your smeared mascara. You throw a kiss at her before making your way to the back and once again the big man at the door opens it for you after a quick look.

The music is muted as you make your way to the stairs at the back that take you up to their private room. When your heels land at the top and you meet Bucky's eyes he lifts the girl currently on his lap off and declares "Everyone out."

Steve shoots him an irritated look before his eyes follow Bucky's and sees you. You stand perfectly still while the women and men who were enjoying a private party with two of the biggest mobsters in New York mill past you down the stairs, some even shoot you dirty looks.

When the last person has passed, you take a step towards them, but before you're two steps in, Bucky has taken the glass from your hand and Steve has lifted you into his arms. You cling to him, hands grasping his shirts, and finally, you know you’re safe.

Steve sits down with you in his lap, cradling your head to lean it against him, the other arm holding you tight at your waist. Bucky's palms are gentle when he rubs your back soothingly. None of them say anything at first but the tears running down your face speak for themselves. You made it all the way without breaking down but with them, you can be vulnerable. For the last seven years, they’ve been the rock, the shelter, and your haven.

"Talk to us, Sweets," Bucky's voice is only that soft with you, maybe sometimes with Steve too, “What’s going on?” You try to take a deep breath, but it just stutters. After a few more tries it’s better but you’re not sure where to begin. They give you time, and don't press you on information, like they otherwise do in their line of work.

Finally, you release Steve's shirt and instead, you find the hand he has wrapped around your waist, twisting the rings on his fingers as you try to speak. You don't want to look at them, the shame and the anxiety is running high in your body but you want to tell them, you just have to find the right words.

"You know the guy I've been seeing," you start and feel Steve's arms tighten around you. Before you can say more Bucky mutters "I'm gonna kill him." Steve is calmer and asks, "What about John, Sweets?" He speaks into your hair, his voice is gentle but it has a hard edge. "He's been so sweet since we started going out, but he's been having a rough time at work lately," you squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to remember, your heart beating like crazy. The memories bring forth the panic and the fear again and your breath gets shallow.

"It's alright Sweets, you're here with us, nothing can hurt you," Bucky's low voice is comforting, together with their touch, and you know he’s telling you the truth. It’s the reason you came here instead of going home.

You take a few more breaths and continue "So I thought I'd do something nice for him. We had a spa day and while he soaked in the tub I made dinner and dressed up for him." Frowning hard, your fingers spin the rings on Steve's hand faster and faster the more your anxiety builds, knowing what’s coming.

"And everything was great until I poured the wine and spilled some on the tablecloth." Your mouth opens and closes a few times and the tears start to fall again but Bucky is there with his thumbs, cradling your face and brushing them away, while Steve rocks you gently in his embrace.

"He was furious," you cry. "Said I ruined everything! He threw the wine in my face, then the bottle across the room. He tried to grab me but I ran out of there." There is a long silence when you finish, it’s just your sobs and the music from the other side of the wall. Then Steve says "I'm gonna fucking kill him," his voice laced with rage, and he hugs you even closer.

"I took a cab here, I didn’t know where else to go, I didn’t wanna go home." With the last words out you feel a small relief. You’ve told them. You’ve told someone. The scene still plays in your head, seeing John's eyes turn black with rage when the drops of rosé landed on the white linen, feeling the fear when he started screaming.

"Thank you for telling us, Sweets. You’re an incredible person," Steve says and moves you out of his lap and over to Bucky's. They treat you with the utmost care, moving slowly, giving you time to protest if you want, or detangle yourself if that's what you desire. But you let them manipulate your body how they like because sometimes they know what you need more than you do.

"You did nothing wrong," he goes on to say, holding onto your hands, letting his thumbs caress the skin. "John is an absolute fucking asshole and no one should be treated like that.” You meet his green-blue eyes that are only soft for you, and Bucky. Right now, Steve isn’t the feared mobster that people avert their eyes from when he enters a room, scared they’re going to end up in a ditch because they looked at him wrong. No, this Steve is your best friend.

"I don't want to be scared, and I don't want to go home in case he comes there," you confess. "You'll stay with us," Bucky decides, voice finite. "Let’s go home so you can take a shower and change clothes." You nod and are about to stand up but Bucky is quicker, changing his grip and holding you close as he gets up. He carries you to the car and doesn't let go of you until you're in their mansion, in the room you have there.

When he puts you down your feet are a little unsteady and they both look at you with concern, but you give them a weak smile “It’s okay.” "We'll be right outside, shout if you need anything," Steve tells you and when you nod they both step out and close the door softly behind them.

For a moment you stand still, trying to make sense of the last hours, wondering how everything went to shit. Then you finally get a good look at yourself in the tall mirror and see the black rivulets of mascara and eyeliner smudged down your cheeks, the foundation almost gone.

The dress is ruined by the wine and even if it was expensive and you can get it dry cleaned you don’t want it anymore. You pull it off and throw it into the trash can, quickly followed by the heels. The lingerie is one of your favorite sets but you're unsure if you will ever be able to enjoy it again without remembering how you chose it especially for John. After a moment it goes into the trash, and the earrings too, feeling like you need everything from the night to be gone.

The only thing you keep on your body is the necklace that was a gift from Bucky and Steve years ago and you haven’t taken it off since. It's custom-made with three delicate chains in gold, silver, and black twisted together. You loved it the moment you saw it, knowing that the chains were the three of you, twisted together through the rest of your lives. When you touch it with your fingers it makes you feel better, because you can feel them with you.

The shower feels more than just bodily cleansing and when you remove the last pieces of your smeared makeup, smoothing eye cream over your puffy eyes, the feeling of fear and panic is distant.

In the closet are a bunch of your clothes, probably more than you like to admit, but the best part is the drawer with their old t-shirts. You pull one out, not sure which of them it used to belong to, but it’s worn and soft against your skin. For a moment you press it against your nose, breathing in the detergent that reminds you of this place and all the wonderful memories that you have with them, before you find your pajama pants.

Out in your room you sit on the bed and look around at the muted colors. Bucky and Steve insisted that the room was yours, not just a guest room, and it makes you smile a little when you think about how much fun you had decorating it.

After taking a deep breath you open the door and find them just a few steps away. The look in Bucky's eyes is murderous and Steve's fists are clenched by his side, but when they turn to you they go back to being your best friends that you met in college all those years ago. "How are you feeling?" Bucky steps up to you and pulls you into a soft hug, tucking your head underneath his chin as you wrap your arms around his waist, breathing in the smell of him. Steve comes up behind you, placing his palms on your shoulders, rubbing the muscles carefully. "Better now," you answer. "But I never had dinner so I'm a bit hungry."

Bucky pulls away from you, cradling your face, tilting it up until you're looking right into his light blue eyes. "Let's go raid the kitchen," he smiles and holds your gaze for a few seconds more and there is so much love in those eyes it's almost scary. You know he would burn down the city if it made you happy, they both would, and that intensity is one of the many things that have kept you from finding out what it would be like to be theirs. You're not sure you'd be able to handle it.

When Bucky lets go of you, Steve's arm goes around your waist and he pulls you into him, Bucky takes your hand, lacing your fingers together, and you walk to the kitchen. You sit down at the kitchen island while they open the fridge.

"The chef made mac'n’cheese," Steve says and pulls out an oven pan, covered in tin foil with a post-it note on top with instructions for heating it. Bucky turns on the oven and says, "Want something to drink Sweets?"

"Soda?" you ask and Steve pulls a can out of the fridge before settling down beside you, handing it to you. You hand it right back "Please? I don't wanna fuck up my nails." That makes him chuckle as he opens it and the sound makes you warm on the inside so you lean your head against his shoulder.

"Thank you," you sigh. "For always being here for me. I'm sorry I ruined your party." "You didn't ruin shit," Bucky spits out, glaring at you from where he is standing by the oven. Steve and you chuckle at his harsh tone but then he leans forward, over the counter towards you, resting his large arms against the surface.

"I mean it, Sweets, don't you ever think you ruin anything by showing up, for any reason," his voice is stern but you know it comes from a place of love. "Thank you, Bucky, it means a lot," you smile.

When the oven is warm Bucky puts the tray in and pulls out plates. It only takes a few minutes and your tummy rumbles as the kitchen fills with the smell of cheese. Bucky and Steve make small talk about work things and you're grateful for them filling the silence while you finally get some food.

But it isn't the nice chicken that you cooked for John that you looked forward to eating and your eyes begin to burn. Even though you try to force the tears back they come anyway and run down your cheeks as you eat. Neither Bucky nor Steve notice until you reach for a paper towel and sniffle loudly. Not a second later you're wrapped up in Steve's embrace, crying into his shirt again while Bucky caresses your hair and nape. They mumble sweet things to you and tell you that you're safe and that nothing is ever going to hurt you again.

After a few minutes, the tears run dry. "I'm okay," you say and Steve loosens his hold, his eyes filled with concern for you. "You sure?" "Yeah, but I feel like I've been hit by a truck. Should probably try to get some sleep.” "We're sleeping in my room," Bucky decides and you nod, Steve too.

It's not unusual for the three of you to share a bed when one of you has had a rough time. The first time it happened was after finals and you all fell asleep in Steve's bed, totally exhausted, and slept better than you'd had in weeks.

Then it was after break-ups, yours, Steve's, Bucky's, somehow you all ended up in a bed together every time and it wasn't sexual at any point, just friends being there for each other and it continued through the years. The only time it was out of the question was when one of you was in a relationship, then it just felt weird, and from previous experience, it wasn't something that partners were all that accepting of.

You retrieve your pillows and cover from your room before settling in Bucky’s huge bed, your feet twisted up with Steve's, and Bucky is holding your hand. It's nice, it's familiar and you drift off knowing you're safe with them.

The room is dark when their soft voices wake you, but that might be because of the black-out curtains and not because it's still night. They’ve moved close enough to you that you can feel the warmth from their bodies on either side of you, and Bucky’s chest is right in front of your eyes when you open them slightly to peek. They don't notice you're awake and you don't feel like announcing it either, curious what they’re talking about.

"We let her decide." Even if Steve's tone is hushed it's still hard. "She is too sweet, you know she would never hurt a fly, she's going to say no," Bucky protests harshly in a whisper. This is interesting, you think.

"Even if you and I are fine with getting blood on our hands, maybe she doesn't want to live with that, maybe she wants to press charges." Steve has always been the more level-headed of the two, good with looking at things from all angles and keeping his cool. Bucky huffs and you want to giggle. His emotions always get him in trouble, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. When Bucky is angry he sees red and when he loves he does it with his whole soul and being. One time you asked Steve how he isn’t dead yet since his poker face seems to suck, but Steve explained that when they’re doing business he is usually calm and collected. When his emotions finally break through, people know they should probably run.

"Fine.” You can tell Bucky is not happy but he lowers his voice even more, and now it’s tinged with something else. “But I'm never letting her go again." His words together with his gentle tone make your heart skip. There was a time when you seriously thought about asking them to see if the three of you could work it out, and be more than just friends. But what you have with them is so precious that if it fails in the end, and you lose your best friends, you're not sure how you're going to go on.

"And you think I will?" Steve mutters. "We should have said something a long time ago." "Well, we can't go back in time. All I know is that I love her and I can't see her with anyone else ever again," Bucky's voice sounds like it's going to crack. He never cries but that is as close as it gets.

Steve reaches over you towards him, you can't see what he does but you know how Steve's comforting hands look on Bucky, you've seen it before. Sometimes they're even sweeter with each other than they are with you, when they think no one can see them, not even you. It's so clear that they love each other deeply, honestly it's surprising that they don't just date each other.

You hear Bucky hum in contentment and Steve gives a small soft laugh. It feels like a good time as any to pretend to wake up. You file away their words for another day, not ready to deal with them now in the wake of what’s happened. First, you need to heal the broken heart you're already nursing before thinking about giving it away again.

With a groan you turn from your side to your back, stretching and blinking your eyes open. They're lying on their sides, both resting their heads on their hands. "What time is it?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes. "Just past nine," Bucky informs you and brushes a few strands of hair out of your face. "And you two are still here?" "Just for you," Steve says softly and finds your hand, twisting your fingers together.

Both of them are early risers and you hate mornings, something they tease you for endlessly. "Honestly though, have you already, like, gone for a run, had breakfast, and then sealed some important deal?" "Nope." Bucky slides his arm in under your neck, placing the other hand on your hip, and pulls you closer to him. "We didn't want to leave in case you woke up." Steve shuffles closer, his chest pressing into your shoulder. "Didn't want you to think we left you all by yourself."

You hum and decide to ask "Would it be okay if I stay here a few days?" "Sweets, stay as long as you want. It's your home as much as ours,” Steve answers. "No,” you correct. “My name is definitely not on any papers for this house." "We can fix that if that's what you want. Just move here." Bucky is serious but you decide to laugh it off. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" "Like old times." he smiles.

"Except I have no desire to listen to the people you bring home scream and moan, got enough of that in college,” tumbles out of your mouth without really thinking of it. They exchange a look but before they can say anything you hastily continue. "Do you think I need to break up with John, or do you think he got the message when I left?"

An uneasy silence falls and Bucky breaks it. "I'm gonna be honest with you Sweets, I really wanna fucking kill him, and make it as painful and as horrifying for him as possible. Death will feel like a blessing in the end." Steve speaks next. "But it's your decision, and if you wanna press charges against him, we'll make our lawyers available."

It’s a lot to take in at that moment. "I don't know,” you answer truthfully. “It still hurts, I'm still scared but I'm not sure what will make it better." "When you've decided you let us know and we'll do whatever you want." Steve bends down to kiss the top of your head.

"If I see him on the street or something though I'm gonna punch him," Bucky says casually before letting go of you and getting out of bed. When his warmth leaves you, you whine and that makes him chuckle. He kneels on the bed and kisses your forehead. "Steve will keep you company while I make breakfast." "You mean go get what the chef has already prepared?" you joke. Bucky shoots you a look before leaving the bedroom.

"We should be glad he isn't actually cooking. Remember when he tried to make pancakes for his girlfriend and almost burned down the apartment," Steve notes. "That's because he got distracted. I mean, I'm glad I came out of my room when I did but the image of Bucky and her on the kitchen table still haunts me," you chuckle.

"You weren't exactly innocent back in those days either," Steve points out with a laugh. "But I never did it on the communal surfaces," you defend with a huff. "No, all we got was listening to you trying to stifle every sound and failing miserably." "Well, at least I didn't break a wall while fucking someone." "It was a shitty wall, never have that problem here." "See that's why I don't wanna move here." "We can soundproof your room?" "Or I can just live in my apartment?"

Bucky comes back with a breakfast tray and places it on the bedside table before pulling out your phone from his pants. "It's been buzzing nonstop since I got down," he explains and hands it to you right as the screen lights up with an incoming call.

"It's John," you tell them, and your chest floods with anxiety as you stare at the screen and sit up against the headboard. "Answer it," Steve sits up beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. Bucky is pressed against you much the same on your other side. "On speaker," he instructs and takes out his own phone to record the call.

Your hands shake as you swipe to answer. "H-hello." Your voice is wavering. "Baby! I'm sorry for yesterday, I'm sorry I got mad. I've been calling since you left, I've been so worried. I checked your place but you weren't home. Where are you?" John says in a worried voice. "I'm at a friend's house," you reply.

The feelings in your chest are conflicted, on one hand you never want to see him again but hearing his voice makes you remember that when he is good he is great, amazing even, and you would be lying if you said you didn't miss him. For the last few months, you gave it your all and you were even prepared to tell him you love him.

"I'll come and pick you up and let me apologize properly," he sounds pained like he is actually sorry for what he did. Fuck, it's so tempting to go back but you know better. You know that this is just the tip of the iceberg, and getting wine thrown in your face is probably not the worst that can happen.

"No, John." You try to sound confident but you're not sure it comes across. "I don't think it's going to work out between us." The moment you say the words the tears well up and Steve starts rubbing your shoulder." You're doing great," he whispers right by your ear so John doesn't hear.

"Are you-" John sounds shocked. "Are you breaking up with me… over the phone?" "Yeah, sorry." You cringe, you shouldn't be sorry. "You scared me yesterday and I feel like I don't know you anymore."

"Babe you don't need to be scared of me, I would never hurt you I swear," he sounds like he is about to cry and a part of you wants to comfort him. "You threw wine in my face and said some really mean things," you point out.

"I didn't mean any of that, I promise. You know I've had a lot on my plate lately and I didn't mean to take it out on you." There is some part of you that desperately wants to believe him. "That's not an excuse," you go on. "I'm not an object for you to take out your frustration on. It's not going to work John."

There is a long silence before he speaks again and now his voice is laced with rage instead. "Then you can come get your fucking things right now." "John, please don't-" you start but he cuts you off.

"You fucking bitch, you lead me on for months and then you break up with me over the phone, because what? You think I’m gonna hit you or something?" "Yeah, maybe," you answer truthfully. "You're such a dumb bitch, I would never lay a hand on a woman I care about."

Both Steve and Bucky stir beside you. When you shoot them a glance they are both staring at the screen with murder in their eyes. "Calling me names won't change my mind, John," it hurts when he says them, like an actual stab in the heart and it brings out more tears.

Bucky leans over and taps the mute button. "There is no way you're going over there, we'll send Sam and Vis." You nod and unmute while John is raging on about how dumb and useless you are and how he wishes he'd never wasted his time on you. "I'm going to send some friends to pick up my things."

"Oh, so you won't even face me yourself?” his voice is unrecognizable now. “You know what? I'm glad for what I did, I'm not sorry anymore, you're obviously a fucking coward and not worth a second of my time." Every ounce of fight is gone from you, you're just tired and want it to be over. You don’t want to listen to the hurtful words anymore so you simply say "Goodbye John," and don't even wait for a response before hanging up. You drop the phone into the sheets and bury your face in your hands, your body jerking with sobs.

Steve and Bucky’s arms go around you but you hardly notice, everything is just excruciating pain, your heart smashed into a million pieces. Twenty-four hours ago you were happy with a man you thought you knew, and loved, but now everything is broken and you're not sure what you’re going to do next.

It takes a long time for you to stop crying and when it finally ends you're exhausted, again. The coffee Bucky brought has gone cold but Steve holds a glass of juice to your lips and makes you take a few sips before coaxing some yogurt into your mouth. "Steve is going to stay with you while I take care of a few things. If you need me, you tell him and I'll be right back," Bucky promises when he leaves the bed again, taking the tray with him out of the bedroom.

"Is he going to kill him?" you ask softly as you sink down under the covers. Steve puts his arm around your waist and pulls you into his chest until your face is squished against it. "No," his voice is soft. "Not without me." "Steve…" "Can you blame us, Sweets? John was lucky it was over the phone or else we would have beaten him into a pulp for saying those things."

"He never acted like that before," you whisper. "I'm just happy you got out before he put his hands on you," Steve whispers back. "If you had shown up with bruises yesterday I might have lost it." "I love you," you tell him and he kisses the top of your head. "I love you too, Sweets, and I know Bucky feels just the same." You hum and let the exhaustion take over.

They have switched when you wake the next time, you're in Bucky's arms and he is carding his fingers through your hair speaking quietly to you. "Wake up Sweets, it's time for dinner."

Even if you’ve slept right through lunch you shake your head and swing your leg over his hip, clinging to him. "Don't wanna get up," you whine. "If you eat dinner, we can watch a movie on the couch afterward." He knows just how to tempt you and you need something to try and take your mind off everything.

"Candy?" you pull back. Even if the light in the room is dim you can still see the blue in his eyes, and the crinkles at the corners when he smiles. "You know we keep stock of everything you like, there is always something sweet for our Sweets."

You hug him hard. "I love you Bucky, you know that right?" "I love you too, Sweets." He kisses the top of your head, much like Steve did earlier. "And I know Steve feels just the same." That makes you giggle "Steve said the same thing." "Well he is a smart man," he shrugs.

Bucky all but pulls you out of bed but he doesn't force you to change out of your pajamas. He leads you to the kitchen where Steve is plating the food and your stomach grumbles when you smell it. They have set the table with candles and it looks lovely but it also reminds you of your last candle-lit dinner. Bucky sees the look on your face turns you away from it and tilts your chin up with his fingertips, "It’s…” he begins, hesitating, trying to find the right words. “We want to replace every bad memory, but if it’s too much too soon we’ll throw it all out.”

The scary thing is that he is serious. If you said the word they would throw everything out, but you don't want that, you want a nice dinner with them and try to get past what happened. Maybe it will help, maybe it won’t but you won’t know until you’ve tried. And if there is one thing you know for sure, it is that you are safe with them.

“It’s fine, I’ll try,” you promise with a smile before turning around to sit down at the table. Steve serves the food and Bucky pours you a glass of wine. After a few bites, Bucky brings up some stupid shit the three of you did a long time ago and through dinner, you reminisce about old times.

Since meeting John you haven't seen them as much because you learned early on that partners were weirded out or even jealous of what you had with them. Right now you can’t fathom why you would ever do that, because these two people are the best thing in your life.

You fold your napkin into your lap and look at them. "I'm sorry for, like, ghosting you the last few months," you swallow hard. "I've been a shitty friend but you always take care of me when I need you, and I’m so thankful for that. I promise I’ll do better."

"It's okay sweets," Steve smiles and reaches over the table to grasp your hand. Bucky takes the other and his thumb caresses your knuckles. "Don't apologize, there is no need." The lump in your throat is from love and not from sadness this time and you don't try to speak, just nod, squeezing their hands back.

Afterward, you cuddle up on the couch to watch a movie but ten minutes in you're already nodding off. When Steve and Bucky notice you're asleep they turn the TV off and Steve carries you up to Bucky's bedroom. "She has work tomorrow," Bucky whispers and pulls the cover up over your body. "Fuck, should we wake her?" Steve asks back. "No, let her sleep, she starts at nine so if we let her sleep til seven it should be fine."

Fortunately, the alarm on your phone goes off as usual but when you turn to snooze it, you instead roll into a warm chest. Steve grumbles and reaches for your phone, handing it to you before seizing you around the waist, and burying his face in your neck.

“Hey, I have to get up,” you mutter. It feels like your eyes are filled with sand and your head is pounding but you have to go to work nonetheless. “You don’t have to work,” he speaks into your skin and it makes a tingling feeling travel through you.

“Don’t be silly, let go of me,” you chuckle and detangle yourself. The other side of the bed is empty, Bucky already up. You drag yourself over to your room to shower before getting ready and eating breakfast. Steve insists on driving you to work and Bucky comes and sees you off with a long hug and a kiss on your hair. “I’ve put Clint and Peter to watch your apartment and Sam and Vis are going to be outside your work all day, Sweets.” “Thank you, Bucky.”

When Steve drops you off he points out the car. "If you see John or you for any other reason feel unsafe you can go to them right away, or call us,” he tucks a strand of hair in behind your ear. “Don’t hesitate. You mean everything to us and we want to keep you safe, Sweets,” You nod. “Thank you, Steve,” you whisper, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek before heading to work.

What you told yourself would only be a few days, turns into a few weeks and now it’s almost two months. Despite your initial refusal, you’re enjoying living with them again. A few times after the break-up, John tried to contact you and every time the phone started buzzing and your anxiety spiked you found one of them and they helped you through it.

You haven’t slept in your room once and neither has Steve, it's always the three of you sleeping in Bucky's bed. It could be because Bucky has an expensive bed that you sleep so soundly, but in the back of your head, you know it’s because their presence calms you.

If Bucky or Steve can't drive you to work, someone else does, your own car is still parked on the street by your apartment and you don’t have any desire to go get it. But you do miss some of your clothes, and toiletries, so maybe you should take it as a sign that you need to go back.

After getting home from work that day you walk up to their office, a little apprehensive. Both of them are leaning over the desk when you poke your head in, their cuffs rolled up, exposing their underarms. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, they look too good. Steve sees you first and a smile splits his face. “Hey Sweets, have a good day at work?”

Bucky turns and opens his arms towards you when you step into the room. His hug is warm and comforting and you answer Steve’s question with a yes, before taking a step back from them. "I know I said I was only going to stay a few days but it's been way more than that now, so I think I'll go back to my place after work tomorrow." You try to sound as neutral as possible, neither sad nor happy, just stating a fact.

"No," Bucky breathes, fists tightening at his sides. "I agree with Bucky, don't leave," Steve's voice is calm and his face doesn’t give much away but his eyes are betraying him, they’re too glossy, too wide, and too filled with fear to miss.

The other reason you need to go back home is the way they are treating you and touching you. It’s making your feelings run wild and you can't have that, you can’t risk losing them too. And if that wasn't enough they've invaded your dreams with their touches and words, making you wake up aching for them in a way that is totally inappropriate.

"I can't stay, you know that," you sigh. "No, I don't." Bucky is frustrated, staring at you. "I really fucking don't know why you can't stay. We love having you here and you seem to love being here. Just stay."

His mood is making you defensive, you don't want to explain that you're obviously catching feelings soon after getting out of something traumatic. You need to think, and every time you wake up drenched, tucked in between them you are seconds away from ruining everything by confessing or honestly just taking one of their hands and pushing it in between your legs, hoping they will help you get off.

"I need my own space, Bucky," you cross your arms and glare at him. "You have your own room," he states and takes a step closer. "That I don't use anyway," you reply and take a step back. "Because you don't want to!" His raised voice silences you not because you're scared but because he's right. Bucky isn’t stupid and he's not the type to sugarcoat things when he's upset.

Your heart is hammering. "No I don't want to," you confess with a breath. "But I need to." Then you turn to go but only get a step from the desk before Steve grabs your wrist. He spins you into his chest, Bucky coming up behind you, boxing you in between them. Bucky's head falls on your shoulder. "I can't let you go again, Sweets, I can't do it."

Your mind flashes back to the morning when you pretended to sleep and heard them talking. The breath in your chest hitches as you look up into Steve's blue-green eyes. “I’m with him, Sweets,” he says in a low voice and cups your cheek with his large hand. “You belong here, with us.”

Your mouth opens and you try to protest but it dies on your tongue and Steve takes the opportunity to continue. "We love you, more than anything, we want you to be ours, more than just our best friend. Live with us, be with us in every sense of the word. All three of us, together," his voice wavers at the end.

The words sink in slowly. Be with them. Be theirs. Stay. Your body is aching to say yes and your heart is about to beat its way out of your chest. “But…” “All I know is that I feel incomplete without you, like a part of my soul is somewhere else, and the only time I'm at peace is when I'm with you two. I can't keep living like a part of me is missing. So I'm asking you, please stay, please help us figure this out and be with us." Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist. "Every time I see you with someone else my heart gets ripped out of my chest and I've tried to be with other people, we both have, but in the end, they’re not you."

Their confessions break down your defenses as their words ring true. In all your relationships over the years, there's always been something missing but you've never been able to figure out what. There's been passion and there's been love but it's always lacking something and now you think you get it. It has lacked them and the deep connection you share through years and years of friendship. Feeling stupid about wanting to leave and thinking you weren’t ready to be with them makes tears well in your eyes. Whatever it is you three can figure it out, it may not be traditional but it beats being unhappy.

"Don't cry, Sweets." Steve runs his thumb over your cheek. You lean your head into his chest, nodding against it. "I'll stay," you sniffle. The arms around your waist tighten and Bucky speaks into your shoulder. "Really Sweets?" he sounds like he’s worried that maybe you're joking.

"Really Bucky," you promise, wrapping your arms around Steve and hugging him close. For a moment it’s just the three of you enveloped in your shared love but then Bucky rights himself and you look up at him over your shoulder, matching his silly smile.

He leans in like he is about to kiss you but he stops himself, his eyes searching yours for something, and it's scary. If you take the plunge everything will change, or maybe it won't, but it feels like an earthquake is rolling through your life, upsetting everything and if you let him kiss you it will be real. But that's what you want.

"Please?" you ask him and his whole face lights up before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours. It could be described as fireworks, an erupting volcano, or maybe feeling the first rays of sunlight on your skin after years in darkness, but nothing will come close to the feeling of being kissed by Bucky.

It's a chaste kiss with just his lips moving carefully against yours. It's over quicker than you want but in his place is Steve, turning your head back towards him and descending on you. His fingers run through your hair and he opens your mouth to let his tongue play with yours, the feeling once again indescribable, it's just the feeling of right. Everything about it feels right.

Even if the kiss is slow when he pulls back your breathing is labored and you're clutching his shirt. "I-" you begin but can’t find any words. That kiss ignited something inside you, it's like you're seeing color for the first time, everything is clearer and sharper. What even was your life before?

"Are doing okay Sweets?" Bucky asks next to your ear and you nod in response. When his soft lips caress the side of your neck you whimper and lean your head to give him better access, he chuckles against your skin, nipping it and making you gasp. "I wanna eat you up, find out what you taste like everywhere."

It’s a badly kept secret that Bucky has a marking kink. You’ve seen his exes, you know he's possessive and likes to leave marks. You can't wait to have them on you so you whisper, "Mark me.”

Steve chuckles above you. "She knows you, Bucky," he says with a smile. "You too, Steve, please?" You’re almost begging, but not quite, just asking nicely. "You want me to give you a hickey?" he asks with a crooked smile but those eyes are too easy to read. He craves you. "Or a bruise, or a bite mark, something, anything," "Fuck…" His face changes to match his dark eyes. "You want everyone to know you belong to us, Sweets?" he asks with a hoarse voice and you feel the large bulge in his pants press against your stomach.

You nod, biting your lip. "Show me how you do it, Bucky.” They spin you around and Bucky grabs at the collar of your blouse, pulling harshly, sending the buttons flying over the office. “Hey-” you begin but he pulls the fabric aside exposing the juncture between your shoulder and neck. First, he sinks his teeth in, hard enough for you to hiss but not breaking the skin, then he closes his lips and sucks.

It's painful but the act in itself makes you throb. When he pulls back you release your breath but Steve is quick to pull the neckline on the other side and do the exact same thing. He is gentler but when he's done there is still a purple bruise on your skin. "Fuck me," you whimper against Bucky.

"Yes, Sweets, we will. Long and hard until you can't take it anymore. We're going to ruin you." Steve promises before he grabs you and lifts you up, spinning you so you can wrap your legs around him as he starts walking to the bedroom, Bucky right behind you. You reach your hand out towards him and he grabs it, kissing your palm and knuckles. "We're going to take care of you Sweets, you'll never want for anything," he promises with a wicked smirk.

Steve places you on the edge of the bed and stands up, looking down at you. Bucky comes up beside him, resting his forearm on Steve's shoulder. "Look at our sweets, can you believe it?" Bucky asks. Steve turns to him with a smile. "Yes." Then he places two fingers under Bucky's chin, turning his head before kissing him. It's heated, filthy and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. You squeeze your legs together to alleviate some of the pressure you're feeling in your cunt. Their kiss shows that it's nothing new, they've obviously done it before and you're a little mad that they have withheld this from you.

When Steve starts pulling on Bucky's clothes you can't keep the moan from slipping out. They both break away and turn to you and you feel small in the best way possible. "Did you like that?" Bucky asks before leaning down and kissing you.

The knowledge that his tongue was just in Steve's mouth and is now sliding against yours makes you moan again. You start undoing the buttons on his shirt and he pulls on your top. When you separate, he pulls it off and you’re left in just your bralette. Steve makes a sound in the back of his throat at the sight and starts taking off his own clothes.

Bucky kneels in front of you on the floor, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them off, while you stare at Steve as more and more skin is revealed. He holds your gaze the whole time and you bite your lip when he starts at his pants. His chest and forearms are huge, covered in tattoos but in no way hiding the muscle underneath. It makes your mouth water and your cunt clench.

Bucky starts kissing up your bare leg, beginning at your ankles and slowly working his way up your calve and the inside of your thigh. When you're still staring at Steve he nips your skin. "I know he's gorgeous but when I eat your pussy I want your eyes on me, Sweets." He tries to look offended but his pupils are blown wide with lust.

Just the thought of him between your legs makes a shiver run through you and your cunt impossibly wetter. Nodding at him you caress the side of his face and watch him, the closer he gets, the more you start to tremble with need. No one had ever made you feel so needy and horny.

Bucky kisses your cunt through your underwear, making you gasp. "Please Bucky, I need you." "I know, I can smell how fucking wet you are Sweets." He twists your panties out of the way. "Fuck, Steve, look at her, she's dripping."

Steve, in just his underwear now, slides his fingers gently through the mess, making you tremble and moan, before bringing the fingers to his mouth and holding your gaze as he licks them clean. Then Bucky's mouth is on you, his tongue licking from your core up to your clit.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck-" you cry and grab the sheets under you, bucking up into his touch. Steve chuckles and gets behind you on the bed. "He looks like he's in heaven, Sweets. He has wanted you for so long." You feel his fingers undo the clasp of your bra and then slide it off. His hands cup your tits a second later, making more sounds spill out of your mouth. His fingers rub, caress, and pull on your nipples while Bucky is hurdling you toward your climax.

"I'm- I'm gonna-" Your legs shake and you grab Steve's arm with one hand, the other going to Bucky's head, grabbing his short hair. Every muscle in your body tenses right before the coil snaps, making you scream out your release, riding Bucky's face and feeling the pleasure-filled waves travel through your body.

You slump against Steve's and he holds you. Bucky pulls back with a shit-eating grin, wiping his face with the back of his hand, saying "Fuck Sweets," before he stands up and starts taking off his clothes.

You already feel amazing, high off your orgasm but you want more and Steve's hard-on is pressing into your back. You turn around on the bed. "Move up," you tell him and his smirk is knowing but he does as you say and moves to sit against the headboard.

You rid yourself of your drenched panties before grabbing his boxers and pulling them off. "Eager Sweets?" he chuckles and fists his cock as soon as it's free. It's thick and long as him and you can't fucking wait. You bite your lip before asking "Condom?"

"I know we should but I want to feel you raw Sweets,” he confesses. “Are you on birth control?" "Sure, and I got tested the week after…" you trail off not wanting the bad memories to ruin the moment. Bucky's heat is suddenly behind you, grabbing your hair and forcing your head back to kiss you deeply. When he lets go he says, "Steve and I got tested like a week before you moved in and I've not even looked another person's way since then." Steve laughs "And I haven't fucked anyone either so get over here and ride my cock Sweets."

To say you scramble is an accurate description, quickly shuffling over to him and straddling his hips. You hold onto his shoulders as he swipes the head of his cock through your mess, holding it still for you to sink down on.

All three of you moan in unison as his dick disappears into your tight hot channel. The grip Steve has on your hips is almost bruising and the look on his face is painful. “F-fuck. Sweets. Damn.” Is all he gets out. You lean in, kissing his cheeks and chin and lips, and start to move, slowly, the feeling is amazing, he's filling you up to the brim perfectly.

"Feels so good," you stutter and then drop down hard. "I'm never watching porn again," Bucky says from behind you and you watch him over your shoulder, kneeling on the bed and jerking his cock. You whine in the back of your throat, you want him too, so you reach for him as you bounce on Steve's cock, making him spill the most delicious sounds.

Bucky shuffles over and you grab his dick in your hand, he's big enough that it doesn't fit all the way around. His hand lands on Steve's shoulder to steady himself and Steve reaches out to place a hand on his hip.

The sounds the three of you make fill the room. It's moans, groans, and whimpers, the sound of slapping skin and squelching wetness. Your clit is steadily rubbing against Steve, getting you closer and closer. Bucky is panting heavily, Steve is too.

"Sweets, I can feel you. Are you gonna come on my cock?" Steve is trying to sound unaffected and failing miserably, but he continues to spill filth that rushes you toward the edge. "When I've filled you up, Bucky is gonna fuck my cum right back into you, aren't you Buck?" "Fuck yes," he groans before leaning in and kissing you deeply. “I wanna see you come on his cock Sweets.”

"Next time I wanna feel both of you come in me at the same time," you whimper. "Sweets, you goddamn slut." Steve groans with a laugh and bucks up into you harder. "Tell us more! Please! I want to hear every filthy little thought hidden inside that mind."

You turn to look at Bucky. "I want both of you in every hole. I want you to use me like I'm a toy and worship me like a queen," you tell him, then turn to Steve. "Put my name on the house and celebrate it by fucking in every room, on every surface, show me all of your kinks, give me everything."

Steve's eyes are screwed shut and he's let go of Bucky to grab your hips, pulling you down onto his big cock. "Keep going," you urge him, your release just a few thrusts away. But he's too close and before you can get there he suddenly sits up to wrap his arms around your waist, crushing you against his chest, thrusting up hard, and comes with a loud moan of your name.

You feel wild, right on the edge of ecstasy but left dangling in mid-air. With pleading eyes and a whine you look at Bucky who smirks at you before pulling you away from Steve and laying you on your back. A second later he fills you up, the sound of his cock pushing through Steve's mess is as sweet as it's nasty.

"Please, Bucky, please," you beg. "Yeah I know, don't worry, not gonna blow my load early," he taunts over his shoulder at Steve who just gives him the finger. "Understand him though, you’re so tight and warm Sweets. Makes me a bit crazy. I just want to fill you up over and over again," he confesses.

"I need to-" you begin but he cuts you off. "Rub your clit for me. Come on my cock," he demands but you know something that is even better than your own fingers and you reach out your arm.

"Steve," you plead and he crawls over to you and lays down beside you, pushing his hand in between your bodies, finding your clit. You arch off the bed with his touch, hands clutching Bucky's arms as he rams into you. The dual sensation is amazing and with how close you were seconds ago the end approaches quickly. Your moans get louder the closer you get and both Bucky and Steve praise you the whole way through.

"You sound so fucking pretty."

"I can barely move you gripping me so tight."

"You're so good at taking cock, Sweets. First mine and now Bucky's, it's like you were made for us."

You nod at the last thing and the pressure in your body is breaking, making your muscles convulse, almost pushing Bucky out with how hard you're coming, screaming their names as you do.

"Fuck! Yes, Sweets!" Bucky’s laugh is a little manic as he works you through it. "I'm going to fill our sweet little cunt with more cum." His hips stutter against you before he groans out your name and collapses on top of you. You run your fingers over his sweaty back and kiss his cheek. Then you turn to Steve, smiling at him beside you. "He's heavy," you complain.

Both of them laugh and Bucky rolls off before they move until you're squeezed in between them, their cum running down your legs, making a mess on the bed. Fortunately, you have at least two other beds to sleep in.

For a few months, you're walking on air. In a throuple with your two best friends, amazing sex, luxury beyond what you could have ever imagined. They constantly spoil you and they've tried to convince you to quit your job since you don't need to work when you're with them.

Tonight you're in another fancy restaurant. Bucky is trying to feed you chocolate cake because it's romantic but you tell him over and over again that you can eat by yourself. Suddenly Steve stiffens beside you and since he isn't known to have tells, you immediately get worried and follow his gaze.

John is standing at the door with a pretty girl on his arm, talking to the waiter and then being shown to a table. Next to yours.

When your eyes meet he stops for a second and his date shoots confused looks between the two of you, before you nod and he nods back, then moves again and sits down.

Steve asks for the check and you're out of your seat and outside the restaurant in no time. Bucky holds your coat as you put it on and a moment later Steve comes out too. His eyes are black with hate and when you're finally in the car you realize that you can't live like this.

"I think-" you begin, swallowing then clearing your throat, "I think I'm going to need those lawyers."

[neonovember]

Two Coffee’s

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics​ !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

@tinkerbelle67 @patzammit @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @nomadstucky @nessie2183 @shamelessfangirl-3 @namelesssav @marvel-phoenix @euphoric-goddess @roseeatta @abschaffer2  @louderfortheback @stupendouslovegardener @wandamaximoff-simp

It had been several weeks since you and Steve got into a routine, you would meet with him to discuss your husband, and he would be the omnipresent blanket of protection in the form of brooding men in dark cars stationed outside your apartment, the diner, your favourite coffee shop. His presence was present in every vessel and part of your life now, and it seems crazy that just 3 weeks ago you hadn't even down the man.

Now it was like he never left. Now it was like he was a part of your routine.

It’s that thought that lingers as you step outside the diner doors and into the chilly afternoon of the Brooklyn streets. With two cups of steaming coffee in hand, you march with a newfound determination towards the indiscreet black sedan that had been parked on the diner sidewalk since you walked through the doors that morning.

They may not speak to you directly, but you couldn’t find the heart to let them sit around for hours on end with nothing but the car heater and a carton of OJ. Especially against the winter breeze that felt like iced knives against your trembling skin.

You tap on the tinted glass gently, scrutinising the reflection that looked too exhausted and angry to really be you. There is a scuffle before the window is sliding until it reaches a quarter down. The man takes a moment to stare you down, hazel brown eyes with deep burly brows eyeing you before recognition clicks in him.

You’re Steves.

He looks at you expectedly, and you remember why you’re here in the first place, the borderline boiling coffee cups going unnoticed by your freezing hands.

You raise them up with a smile, and his eyes flicker to them. The man sitting in the driver's seat next to him bops his head as he catches your eye. Reaching across the brooding man whose stumbled jaw is currently working itself a beat, the man across from him with light eyes cracks an apologetic smile at his friend before accepting the coffee with a nod.

You don’t miss the bristled expression that adores the man as you hand his partner the drinks, all you can do is smile tightly before the window is sealed shut once again, and the only thing meeting your eyes is your reflection itself.

— -

“3 club sandwiches for table 18 hun, and ask if they'd like today’s apricot cobbler,” Caroline says in a rushed voice as she tied back the loose strands of hair escaping from a not-so-neat ponytail.

“You leaving already?” You reply mournfully, as you watch her sneak a few pastries into her duffel bag.

She whips her head up to look at you, her smile pulled down into a pouting frown

“Aww are you gonna mwiss me?” Caroline bubbles out in a screeching high baby voice.

“Ugh, you know I hate when you do that”

“Why do you think I do it” Caroline replies swiftly, wagging her eyebrows playfully

“Seriously though, I’m the only one on shift for the next” You pull up your sleeve to check your invisible watch “4 hours” You moan, following her as she rummages around the back kitchen searching for her phone charger.

A sound of trump escapes her throat as she eyes the hidden wire under a box of napkins

“No can do my beloved, Ron’s asked me over tonight. I think this time he's finally gonna give in” Caroline replies, as she looks over her shoulder smiling at me.

“You and that man. Jesus Caroline, you know it would be a bit easier to date someone..uh I don't know not married?” You gruff, shaking your head disapprovingly.

Caroline turn’s to you, rolling her eyes half-heartedly

“Not everyone can have Brooklyn's hottest mafia slash bachelor slash billionaire wrapped around our finger” Caroline replies, before laughing at your bugging eyes

I told you to keep that on the low dammit!” You hush at her with your hands, eyes searching the empty kitchen in case of eavesdroppers, or men donned in black. Either one scared the crap out of you.

“You know I would never tell a sole, these lips are sealed” Caroline replies, doing a zipping motion with her fingers

‘Yeah yeah, I do. I just wished you were here in case they- he shows up, you know?” You reply softly, gulping down the fear of even thinking of his name.

A look of recognition comes over Caroline’s features, before it is soon replaced with a fury that screams only fierce loyalty and bad decisions.

“Swear to god, if I ever see that man I’m putting a bullet through his skull” Caroline replies, her auburn brows furrowing with a look of determination that almost had you believing her.

“Mhm, with what? A silicon spatula?” You reply, eyebrows clocking up in disbelief, you used humour to mask all your emotions, not just the messed up ones.

“I was thinking a 47 Remington, maybe a shotgun! If I could just saw off the handle, I think it would look pretty good down his throat, don’t  you?” Caroline smiles with that innocent look, her eyes shining and her cheeks pushing out the dimples on her left side.

“I would pay to see that” You giggle, before pouting your face as she gathers her bag

“You have Hazel on shift don't ya?” She replies as she notices your kicked-dog expression

“Yeah, but she's as helpful as a sac of potatoes. Too busy talking to Daniel to be of any help” You sigh, swiping a hand across your forehead

At the mention of her name, your eyes watch the young waitress leaning over the kitchen counter, loud boisterous laughter leaving her red rubbery lips as she tries and fails to cover her mouth. Her nails are painted a mossy green but are chipped from her constant biting, and every step of hers jingles from the beady jewellery that adorns her neck and ears.

She had gotten the job in less than a day, and spent less time serving customers than she did suggesting songs for Daniel's busted speaker. The power of connections and a pretty face ran especially deep in the service industry.

Being the restaurant manager’s neice also helped.

Caroline turns to you, shaving her hands in your face to squeeze your cheeks

“Worrin’ will give you wrinkles. She’ll help if she knows you need it. Problem is you never ask don't you?” Caroline replies, unwrapping her apron from her waist and hanging it onto the encrusted wooden hooker.

There was truth to Caroline's words, no matter how much you despised them. All your life you had to rely on yourself, didn't matter if you were in the dusty cabin of your mother's home or the ceiling-high walls of your husband's manor. hell accepting even Steves's proposal felt like pulling teeth, despite every day prior wearing you thin with the lack of protection you held walking through the streets of Brooklyn. You'd taken to wearing a hood most days quicker than you did accept Steve's protection.

“Okay well, women in society have largely been told that they are not allowed to age, so guess my wording is really just a fuck you to the world”. You reply, following her out the back kitchen and down the coordinator to the front counter.

Caroline's laugh echoes through the diner, as she smiles across at you.

“There is hope for us yet” She grins, saying a quick bye to Daniel before slamming the diner door behind her.

Not before screaming out to the bustling street side

“Ya hear that world? Y/N says a big FUCK you” 

All you can do is smile brightly as the diner chimes jingle into the growing murmur of the Sunday lunch rush streaming from the diner booth surrounding you.

-- -

“When’s the last time you got laid, Steve?” Rumlows voice echoes in the large office, it's like sandpaper, that voice of his, and it irritates the raging headache pressing against Steve’s temple.

Steve scoffs back a disgruntled noise, shaking his head before flicking through the folded stack of papers left on his desk that morning.

“No, I mean it, they’re usually a sea of women that leave your floor, what happened?” Rumlow edges him, those busy eyebrows rising up in expectation, his bulky frame sitting hunched on the velvet chair across Steve’s.

Steve’s eyes flicker across to Rumlow, searching his face before drifting down to catch the seared tattoo peaking from his rolled sleeve. Rumlow had once been integrated into one of New York's more violent and unstable crime syndicates, the kind that dealt with human trafficking and selling girls like fucking stables.

Steve was already weary of his often violent and ill-tempered mood, the kind that ended up boiling into violent outbursts. But he needed men at the time, and Rumlow was like a trained dog, so he bit back his resignation and enveloped him into the family.

Oh, how he grew to regret it.

“I’m busy, alright, gotta keep fucking Brooklyn from sinking” Steve replies without looking up from his work, swift signature flying over the dotted lines of dock payments and shipments from Budapest.

Rumlow hums, folding his arms across his chest thoughtfully, his eyes linger on Steve’s, analysing him carefully.

“You’re fucking her aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“That girl you’ve got us looking after, a goddamn wife, you know what he’ll do to us if he finds out we’ve got his little wife knee-deep in our shit?” Rumlow spits out, venom lacing his tone as his eyes glint with a certain fire.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Steve’s voice bellow from deep within his chest, but his face is unmoving, his features set in stone that refused to wither into clay.

“C'mon Steve, I know she’s a fine piece of ass but is she really that fucking worth it? I mean you’re putting a lot on stake for some tits-“. Before Rumlow can finish his sentence, a loud crunch envelops the room, Steve's fist flying into Rumlows mouth as he shatters his face.

The immediate scream of pain and anguish fills the room, as blood begins squirting out of  Rumlows nose, spilling down his white shirt and staining it further, Steve has to restrain himself from killing the man for the way he talked about you.

The sound of Rumlows wheezing whimpers is drowned out by the loud stomps of boots against the hallway floors. The door opens with a thunk, slamming into the wall behind it before Bucky steps into the bloodied scene of Steve’s office.

“Fuck sake Steve” Bucky grunts, as his eyes reach Rumlows crouched position on the floor, holding a hand to his nose to try and seize the blood oozing from the imprint of Steve’s fist.

“Clean that shit up” Steve replies before wiping away the blood off his knuckles with a cloth towel, throwing it towards Rumlow.

“You don’t ever speak to her that way alright? Let this be a warning to all of you, what’s my business with her is just that, my own” Steve snarks, flicking off the splatters of blood that landed on his cufflinks.

Rumlow shuffles awkwardly, reaching for the rag with a blind hand before limping out of the office, his dignity and ego left in the pool of blood staining the plush carpet.

Bucky steps closer, his hands shoved into his pocket as he stares unblinking at the stained carpet.

Steve looks towards him, muttering profanities under his breath as he smooths out the wrinkles in his suit.

“What?” Steve asks Bucky, watching on as his closest friend refuses to meet his eye.

“When you have us shuffle in on rotation to watch her like some fucking fast food gig, you don’t think they’ll be asking questions??” Bucky murmurs

“That isn’t why I asked you to watch her now, is it? They're my closest men-you’re my closest man, and you want to question me? Bucky when have I ever done anything stupid? Huh?” Steve replies, eyes searching through the disappointment that covers Bucky’s face.

“Never, but I think you’re about to start now” Bucky replies, anger lacing his tone as he moves out of the room.

As much as it pained him to admit it, there was truth to Rumlow’s words, Steve had made a name for himself as a notorious bachelor who never slept with the same girl twice. He found a certain addiction in the debauchery of sex, but it was never love. Steve fucked because he liked to hear the sound of his name screamed into the city skies, watching the women he’d bring home unravel before him.

Now though, Steve has to take a moment to consider that his bed was left cold through most nights, the mantel and throne of the mafia king consuming him.

-- -

Pushing through the swinging doors of the diner restrooms, you cough out a gag as you breathe a lungful of air sharply. The diner's bathrooms were usually a mess by the time you closed your doors but god did it seem so much worse today.

Your eyes survey the diner for the crowds of patrons that usually occupied the leather booths but find them empty instead, a few drizzled customers sipping a coffee before folding their newspapers and making their way out.

The sun had dipped into the horizon soon after you had walked through the bathroom stalls, but the winter months caused the night to come quicker than ever, basking the outside with a darkness you can't help but shudder against.

Collecting the diner menus, you shove them into the shelving compartment situated near the doors, and as you reach for a washcloth a sudden feeling of eyes searing holes into your back envelops your senses. It feels like you’re being watched, and it feels like you're just now noticing, the suddenly ominous atmosphere created by the foggy darkness outside causing you to gulp. You crane your neck slowly to search for those pair of eyes, but all you can see is your manager’s head bobbing up from the diner counter.

She gestures with a nod for you to come over, and you discard the washcloth on the table before meeting her eyes.

‘I’m going to head out, just serve the last few customers and lock up for me.” Mare replies, wiping a hadn't across her face as she slings a bag across her back.

“Where did Hazel go?” You reply as you notice her absence from the kitchen

“Oh, she had to attend this party or something so I gave her the rest of the night off” Mare replies nonchalantly.

You have to dig your diners into your thigh to stop from throwing a sharp remark. You had to beg Mare to let you stay home after you’d got that flu going around the city, and even then you had to make it up in overtime. And now she was leaving you to clean up the diner all on your own, so much for a positive working environment.

You think about stealing from the register just to spite her, but you know she would find out either way and then you'd be rotting in a jail cell with an officer calling for your husband to come to pick you up and throw you back into your other living hell.

So you bite your tongue and bid her farewell as she exited the diner without a second look.

You register her words soon after, customers? But you had sworn all of them had filed out hours ago. It’s then that you noticed the hunched figure almost lying over the diner counters, and you move swiftly to reach his stool.

The man from before is perched on one of the diner stools, his grip pressing into the counter until his hands were knuckle white. A stringy black wooden jacket now adores his body, a stark difference from the deep coal black of his tailored suit in that car hours ago. It obscures half his face, scrunched up to cover his nose and mouth.

His eyes dart across the now empty diner booths, ears catching every sound like a hawk, the scar stretching across his face like a white hand pinched and relaxed with every turn of his head. 

He’s hiding from something that you know, but you also know he isn't a man to particularly be afraid of getting caught.

Stepping towards him with a tentative shuffle of your feet, you grip your notepad tight around your hand, a tight smile gracing your features as he slowly rises his head from your scuffled converse to meet your eyes.

“What can- what can I get you?” You gulp down the nervousness from your voice, there’s nothing to be afraid of. He wouldn't hurt you- he can’t, Steve had promised. And you don't know why but you take it his word is as good as gold.

“Just a coffee honey, just like the one from before” The man replies, a dead look in his eyes as you note down his order.

“Nothing to eat? I can’t promise you a fresh meal, but we’ve got a few sandwiches I could heat up for you” You reply, you ask just because it's customary, but god you wished he could be out any sooner.

“Haven’t got the appetite ‘m afraid” The man replies, a smile cracks over the ice of his features, that same jagged white scar folding across his face. There's a glint in his eyes that shine against the diner's fluorescent lights, like he knows something you don’t and it scares you to no end.

You nod slowly, before quickly shuffling your body to get behind the kitchen counter. Reaching for a clean ceramic mug, you make quick work of pouring a fresh batch of espresso into the mug, the black liquid swirls like a whirlpool, steam rising from the cup so you have to carry it gently towards his seat. You feel his eyes on you the entire time, and your hands shake a little as you place it out in front of him.

“Anything else?” You say, rocking on the ball of your feet as you watch him carefully.

“I’m all set, thank you” The man smiles up at you, and your eyes furrow at the disingenuous smile that fits all too big on his face, its almost disprorpoatnte like a Halloween mask, all white teeth and dead eyes.

“I would appreciate it if you could join me, however..?” The man adds, eyes meeting yours that burn into you intensely, he still wears that same Cheshire smile, but his eyes, his eyes almost challenge you to say no. To see what would become of you if you did.

“Uhm..I’m on the clock, can’t be chattin’ when I'm meant to be..” You reply, trying to find the right words to say.

“Serving..customers?” The man clocks his eyebrow, turning around to gesture to the empty diner.

“There hasn't been a soul hat walked through those doors ever since you took your little bathroom break honey, so how about you make my crap day just a little brighter by sittin’ with me?” The man frames his proposal like a question, but you know the way he grips the counter tight that he means it as a command.

There is a beat of silence, of you just staring at him, trying to conceal your growing fear before your eyes dart to the diner doors. He catches your eye line, and coughs out a wheezing chuckle, clocking his head to the side.

“You aren’t that dumb, are you?” The man replies in a condescending tone, and you let your failure weigh down your shoulders.

“Follow me” The man replies with a smile, gathering his coffee mug with one hand before pressing the other to the small of your back, causing you to shudder unconsciously. He leads you to one of the booths hidden away from the door, and you sit with your back straight as he leans onto the booth table.

The silence between you both is filled soon with his hurried gulps of coffee, slamming it to the booth table and causing a crack to form like a lightning bolt through the ceramic mug. The violence causes you to finch, and he looks up at you with a grin.

And within a second, the man is quickly unmasking his hoodie from his face, and the scene that confronts you causes a sickening nausea to rise up your throat. The man’s face, which had been obscured by the hoodie earlier, now bears violent bruises and cuts that burst from his nose and jaw like flowers. They glint against the diner booths overhanging light, fresh and still swollen since the object or thing had cracked against his face.

The man grunts at your disturbed expression, slamming a hand down onto the diner counter that causes you to flinch.

“Your fucking protector gave me this, did you know that?” The man snarks with disgust, you're too afraid to meet his eyes but you take in his words slowly.

Your protector? Huh? No… he doesn’t mean-wait

Steve did this?

You can’t dwell on that realisation before the man is rambling to you angrily again

“And for what? You aren’t shit to me, to any of us, and frankly, we’re getting tired of watching your ass mop and clean after fucking truckers and shit. I used to take down fucking men, and I’m here babysitting. I think it’s about time to put out, alright?” He replies a knowing expression across his face that is soon morphed into amusement as he registers your confused expression.

“I mean you do know that’s why he keeps you? Wants to train you to be his little wife like you once were to little old Richerson’s. Or did you think we’d forget about your husband who’s hunting you down hm? Who’s probably going to throw my ass in the Hudson with a missing foot for even talking to you?”

You bristle at the mention of your husband's name, shaking your head as you press your fingertip to your squeezed eyes until you see stars.

No, no no. This was all wrong. Steve said he’d protect you, he had said that. He promised it like his life depended on it, but the truth was, yours did. And now, now he confuses you, your temples start to throb as a headache sets in as it does since that night when you think too hard or try to remember anything from before. Before your husband, before New York, before this very diner booth.

Did Steve really expect you to be some sit-in wife for him? Jump from one prison into another to finally be the last chest piece of his kingdom? You feel sick at the thought, the nausea burning your stomach as you press a hand to your mouth.

“You seriously didn't think you were anything else did you? Women can't be in this world unless they're whores or wives. That’s how it's always been and always will be. Don’t ever think otherwise, or soon you'll just be another fucking useless whore lying fast down in an alleyway” The man grunts, before pushing the cracked coffee mug towards you before rising from his seat, reaching into his pocket to throw a few scrunched bills at you.

“Clean this shit up, and I suggest you start putting out and doing it fast” The man replies, looking down at you before reaching for your chin, raising your face to meet his eyes.

He ticks at the tremble of your lips as you gulp down the nausea and fear still bubbling deep inside you.

“It's a shame really, that such a pretty face goes out like this, you see I didn't want to be the one to tell you this, but he gave me no choice.” The man sighs sadly as if it was the world's burden to carry that information.

“Reckon you could’ve been something if Richardson had not snatched you up like he did all those years ago. Funny how life works though isn't it? Used to be living in tower high walls and now you're scrubbing a dirty restaurant floor”. The man replies softly, yet the words spit out of him like blood, insincerity written all over his face that told you he didn’t feel bad. Not one bit. In Fact, he probably enjoyed it.

He lets go of your chin with a shove, before his loud boots stomp against the linoleum floors, slamming the diner doors behind him with a bang, and leaving you to drown in the ever-growing lies the people you’ve trusted have suffocated you in.

[sunflowerdarlingx]

His Girl - Steve Rogers

(18+)

Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader (Y/N and she/her pronouns used).

What happens when mobster Steve Rogers finds himself drawn to an innocent primary teacher? Will things go to plan for both of them or will it end in heartbreak?

MINORS DNI

Warnings: Mob!Steve, murder, violence, eventual smut. !!Each individual chapter will have it's own warnings!!

Introduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

[imaginedreamwrite]

Lion’s Den: Part 11

A/N: trigger warning for some derogatory comments about women, mild swearing (tbh I don’t want community standards to get me even though it’s mild)

The second hand. The second hand was mocking you. Every tick tick tick of the sleek silver prong behind the sharp glass was mocking you with the passing time that aggravated you with its knowledge that you couldn’t sleep.

It was a tool to drive you temporarily insane with the repetitive sound that echoed with the weight of war drums. Every tick was the sound of an ash and holly cipin banging against the side of a bodhrán.

You couldn’t turn your mind off, you couldn’t close off your auditory system to the sound of father time’s incessant beating. You couldn’t stop the endless course of thought from rampantly keeping sleep at bay.

Every time you closed your eyes you saw them. Every time you thought the gentle clasp of sleep would find you, you heard them.

Bronx & Queens, dead.

Bronx & Queen, the two guards hired to keep you safe were killed rather grisly.

You hadn’t seen the entire set of pictures, those were in the sole possession of Steve & Bucky. They have hidden away in a near destruction-proof safe while you were given the meagre knowledge that they had died and it was grim.

And you had a sick sense that something, everything, was going to go up in fire and smoke. It was a dull ache in the back of your mind, an incomprehensible fear that was reminiscent of the feeling of being watched. The underlying notion was that something was on the cusp of happening and you were complacently standing idle while the inner workings of this uncontrollable tactic were being perfected behind closed doors.

Tick, tick, tick.

You rolled onto your side, trying as best as you could not to disturb the alphas down the hall from your room, the two men who had hyper-tuned their instincts to detect the subtlest disturbance in the night would have heard you if you weren’t careful or quiet. With the urgency to be as subtle as possible, you slowly kicked the blankets off and pushed yourself to sit up on the edge of the bed, your feet touching the cool hardwood floor.

You count under your breath and started to stand, one hand pressed against the bed to keep yourself steady, and as you had gained your balance you started shuffling forward. It didn’t take you long to cross the room, though with every step you were cautious as to not wake Steve and Bucky, given that it was such a fight to be able to sleep on your own without them pressed tightly against you.

Hours before had been the catalyst that kicked their protective instincts into a whole new intensity, you were lucky to have a room to yourself tonight. You didn’t need them to know that you couldn’t sleep, you didn’t them to be overbearing about your inability to sleep well.

Once you thought the coast was clear, you slipped from the room and kept to the left side of the hallway, moving as silently as you could with every intention to curl up on the couch and watch some mindless movie to keep your mind busy.

Whether it was underlying guilt that was keeping you awake or the self-destructive anxiety that told you it would be better if you slipped out the front door rather than become some tool to cause Bucky and Steve pain, the result was the same dullness. You were unable to sleep, you were unable to turn your brain off.

And time was mocking you with every passing second that descended the night into further darkness.

“I can’t sleep.” You whispered in passing as if they could have heard your excuse for why you were awake, and then you kept on your trajectory toward the living room.

Your descent to the leather seat of the sectional was slow, and you had waited a moment to stretch out and relax against the cool material. After you had truly sunk into the surface and curled in on yourself, you raised your arm and reached behind you to grasp hold of the blanket draped over the back edge and yanked it down toward you. It took a few moments for you to straighten it out over yourself, and a few more to arrange yourself in the position you wanted.

Using your phone tucked into your hand, you used an app downloaded on your phone to turn on the television and used the same app to open one of the streaming networks. Your choice wasn’t a complicated or lengthy process, if anything you had chosen something unassuming that you wouldn’t have to pay any particular attention to.

As the opening scenes started to play, you dug deeper into your bed on the couch and tucked the blanket under your chin. Your eyes had been trained on the screen, your head tucked into a comfortable position and your legs were tucked into your self and with the addition of the background noise to drown out the ticking clock, you finally felt as if you could sleep.

You woke to the feeling of your phone vibrating against your thighs, the buzz jerking you from some kind of twisted and vague dream. Your hand clutching your phone had dragged it from under the blanket and as your vision became clearer, you had rolled onto your back gauging whether you wanted to answer the call or not.

It wasn’t an unknown number that demanded to be denied, it was your sister’s name that flashed on your screen and although you had negated any connection with her since she tried to have you fucked over with Marcus, your curiosity was almost entirely directed you to answer the call.

Without much thought, you accepted the call and held it up to your ear, listening to the egregious sound of someone having sex from the background. There were steady and hyper-sexualized grunts that were animalistic and had been followed by high-pitched squeals and fake moans that stirred your ire. You had almost hung up the phone and tossed it away from you until you heard her voice.

“You caused this you bitch,” your sisters’ curd attempt at insulting you was nothing if slurred and broken by drunkenness, “you fucking whore! Marcus took another omega because of you! If you would’ve just-“

“I told you he was a piece of shit-“ Your attempt to negate her concerns for her alpha and potential mate had been overshadowed by the sudden turn of sexual pleasure and your sister’s drunken tyrannical rage focused on you, to the sound of someone crying and Marcus’ cursing.

“I told you to get me the fucking bitch. I want the bitch not these useless whores-“

“I can’t-“

The phone was pulled from your hands and the call was immediately ended, your eyes raising to meet Bucky’s own intense gaze. Without saying anything, he had crouched by your side with his hand still clutching your phone and used his free hand had cup your chin in order to hold your gaze steady.

His eyes had met yours, holding your attention while his thumb brushed against the edge of your jaw, a soft hum reverberating in his throat. His natural scent was heady, and it was clear that Bucky was projecting to keep you calm after the phone call that hadn’t just affected you but had triggered something dark and dangerous within the two alphas.

Whether it was their natural reaction to become predators when they were threatened, or they had rooted themselves in the primordial darkness that came whenever their omega was threatened, the result had been the same.

Despite the colour of their eyes remaining relatively unchanged, there was a surge of deleterious intent reflected in their irises. Steve and Bucky both, had taken this threat and this stupid drunken mistake made by your sister as a chance to finally find the fucker permanently. They had shown some measure of mercy by allowing both your sister and Marcus the right to live, although there wasn’t even a measurable question of whether that chance would be ripped out from under them.

After tentative silence, and Steve approaching the two of you the reflection of destruction he would inflict with his bare hands had been a fine mist that seemed to hover around him. It almost appeared like a glow, something illuminating the sheer and powerful size of this alpha who was not to be fucked with.

“You’re leaving the city, and we’re finding Marcus.” Bucky had addressed you with finality, less of a request and more of a complete alpha command, one that would not allow room for arguments. “You’ll get another new phone tomorrow.”

Bucky’s hand had dropped from your chin and the comfort from his hand had dissipated, leaving you to feel chilled as if someone had sucked all warmth from the room. It took a shiver running down your spine to get you to sit up, the blanket dragged with you as you used it like a shield to obscure your body from their view. You watched them move around the penthouse apartment while you were in a daze, settled into a place of here and there.

Steve and Bucky were a unit, they were calculated in every step of their journey throughout the apartment. Whether it was one or both of them packing you an emergency bag, or gathering a kit that was designed for interrogation, albeit one where the victim may not live, they moved synonymously.

It had only taken half an hour between the phone call ending and the two alphas preparing to leave with you in tow. Your ascent to the front door had ceased when you took note of the four black duffle bags set by the sleek front door, each bag had a small circular tracking device locked onto the zipper. The first bag closest to you was the largest and seemed unassuming at best as if it was another piece of designer luggage that they could have afforded. And although it had looked to match the rest, with the same kind of onyx stitching and leather bound handles, you had a sense that there was something illusive tucked inside.

“Where are you going?” You raised your head, questioning the two of them with guilt and remorse hanging at the back of your mind. It was a slow-acting poison that countered every other normal thought, the counteracting notion that this was all your fault was affecting your composure.

Tick, tick, tick.

Tick, tick, tick.

“You’re going somewhere safe,” Steve’s hand, heavy on the back of our neck, steered your attention away from the locked front door to himself. He had drawn you in with a steady hold on you, pulling you into his chest in order for his lips to crash against yours, and with every possessive stroke of his tongue against yours, he had overshadowed your scent with his own.

Steve was holding you as tightly as he could to his body, he was effectively overwhelming you with everything he had, both as a temporary goodbye and an act of utter control and desperation to mark you as his.

As Steve pulled away, Bucky had taken over. Tongue and teeth met, and his fingers dug into your hips almost hard enough to bruise as an indicator that you were theirs and they were yours. In place of a mate mark that you hadn’t gotten yet, their scents overloading yours and the weight of their hands on your body would have to be good enough.

“And you?” You mumbled against him, your eyes fluttering closed when his lips moved to your forehead, and the soft dusting of his kiss against your flesh was another sweet goodbye. “You and Steve?”

“We’re going to find him.” Bucky had pulled away and opened the door for you, three alphas on the other side, one of which was Ari.

“Guard her with your fucking life, if it comes down to you and her-“

“I could say the same to you.” Ari alluded coolly, mutual respect and need between him and your alphas, there was an understanding between the three powerful alphas, and you felt as if you weren’t the only omega trapped in the centre of it all. “Y/N-“

“I don’t want him to breathe,” you turned on your heel, your eyes sharp as you looked between Steve and Bucky with a demand of your own, “fucking kill him. Snap his neck, throw him off the Empire State Building, just…”

“He’s not coming out alive, we promise.”

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