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buckets-and-trees · 1 year

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SALT (Bucky x Reader)

Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: mostly-dark!mob!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: 2.8k Summary: True achievement in the restaurant industry requires a relentless drive. No compromises. You've risen through the ranks, and when your mentor retires, you're rightly given the mantle of executive chef at Devour. On your night of ascension, the dining room is packed, and among the guests is someone equally as relentless to get what he wants.

Content Warnings: imbalanced power dynamics, bribery, workplace manipulation, NON/DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit language, risk of being caught, food play, knife play, nipple/breast play, vaginal fingering, forced orgasm, edging, unprotected vaginal intercourse, non-graphic cream pie (not the food kind)

Additional Notes: Written for @the-slumberparty's April Mob AU challenge. Using dark prompt #23 (bolded in the dialogue).

tagging some peeps who showed interest in the preview for this little thing: @sidepartskinnyjeans @vonalyn @winterslove1917

“You’re not serious, Stanley.”

“I am.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Sure. Whatever. I don’t have time for customer meet and greets during a normal service, let alone tonight of all nights.”

“You will do it,” Stanley insisted, “because it’s James Barnes and he’s got more money and influence than any god. He owns the mob scene in this town.”

When your maître d’ didn’t say anything more, you turned to truly look at him.

You frowned but set down your pan with a huff. “Fine. Charlie, take over while I apparently go make an appearance.”

“Table twenty-seven,” Stanley said, handing you a clean dish towel, which you pressed against your forehead, cheeks, and neck as you headed for the door that led from kitchen to dining area, tossing the towel in the laundry bin under one of the counters.

You pushed past the kitchen doors and walked through the dining room towards table twenty-seven, one of the handful booths and tables nestled in small alcoves that offered a little more privacy for VIP reservations, set off on a small dais with walls of green plants strategically placed to create ambience while sectioning off the area from curious eyes and a plethora of potential phone cameras.

There were five individuals seated around the table, but he drew your attention first as you approached. He clocked your progress before any of his companions, and when he looked up, his stare fixed on you with such intensity that you took a brief pause before your next step, which he clearly noted, and the corner of his mouth ticked up in the slightest smirk. It made your blood heat with irritation, but you focused on remaining calm and professional as you stepped up to the table.

“This was an exquisite meal, Chef,” he said, drawing the attention of his companions to you immediately.

“Thank you,” you replied.

“Sam here hasn’t been able to shut up about it since the first course came out,” a blonde man sitting to his right said.

“And you haven’t left even a crumb on your plate through any course, Steve,” he chided back good naturedly.

Each of them had a girl tucked in next to them, but not the man with dark hair and steel blue eyes you still found it difficult to look away from who had to be the infamous James. His friends and their companions continued to rave for another minute or two about different parts of the meal’s courses. You expected them to be closer to the age of your parents, not much nearer yours.

“Well, thank you again,” you finally said. “We’re pleased to have you dining at our restaurant tonight. Devour is a dream for all of us on the staff. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the kitchen to oversee final preparations for the dessert course.”

“I’m eager for what’s to come next, Chef,” he said, looking you up and down, his eyes darkening. You’d delivered the overture for your exit, but he somehow made it clear it was only with his approval that you would leave in that moment.

Twenty minutes later, you sprinkled a touch of flaky salt over the ribbon of whiskey-laced caramel drizzled over the chocolate mousse, Charlie adorned it with a perfect rosette of the Chantilly cream, and you slid the final plate across to Stanley, who put it on the final tray and sent the waiter on his way.

“That’s service, everyone!” you announced, and some of the staff clapped and whooped.

You smiled, truly satisfied. Charlie bumped elbows with you, and when you turned your head to look at him, you couldn’t help the genuine smile bursting across your face.

“Truly a triumph for you taking over,” Stanley said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You’ve more than earned your new title as the executive chef of Devour and this kitch–“

He was cut off as there was a burst of activity at the doors coming in from the dining room. “Everyone, clear the kitchen! Out the back, please,” came a booming voice that you’d heard speak much more congenially earlier in the dining room. It was clear this man was used to giving orders and having them followed without question.

“Excuse me,” Stanley turned to look, but on seeing who was sweeping in and ushering his staff out before him, but his tone shifted when he saw who was giving the orders – now guarded but polite, “Oh, Mr. Rogers.”

“And if I could have a word with you in particular,” Steve said, addressing Stanley and nodding towards the back.

“Of course,” he responded.

You and Stanley exchanged a glance, and you began clearing out with the rest, but Steve put a hand on your shoulder. “Not you,” he said a little more quietly. “You stay here.”

You frowned and tilted your head as you looked up at him. He only smirked at you.

“The rest of you, keep it moving, let’s go!”

You chewed on your bottom lip and let your hand drop to the silver surface of the counter where your fingers immediately began to drum impatiently. After a moment you turned to look over at the door to the dining room, and your breath hitched.

He was there, leaning up against the door frame, blue eyes fixed on you.

His face was unreadable, and so you tried to keep your face blank as well as he stalked toward you, coming around the plating area and to your side of the counter.

“What is this, Mr. Barnes?”

“I’m buying this restaurant. Steve’s arranging everything with Stanley right now.”

Your brow furrowed.

“I own this kitchen, and I own you, Chef.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he put two fingers to your lips.

“I’m tripling your salary,” he said as he stepped right into your space, backing you up against the counter, only a breath of space between you.

Your heart was racing for too many reasons – anger, incredulity, but also a thrill of arousal. You wanted to refuse him, but he also drew you in, and you could not deny that. You knew he was dangerous, you were infuriated by his audacity, and yet…

“You can’t turn down an offer like that,” he continued, “especially not after the years of hard work I know you put in for the executive chef apron in this kitchen. Our stories are not so different in that way. You earned this. You won’t walk away.”

“I can–“

“But you won’t,” he cut over you. You glowered, but he ignored your slow burning anger and instead reached around behind your back to tug at the ties of your apron. Then his voice dropped down an octave as he spoke again, “Don’t fight me. You will give yourself to me.”

“I won’t.” You cocked your chin up.

“You will,” he insisted. He pulled the black apron away from your body and tossed it onto the counter behind you.

“You will give yourself to me now.” He pushed forward, pinning you to the counter with his pelvis. You tried to suppress a shaky exhale, feeling his erection pressing into you. “Soon you will warm my bed,” he bent his head down to ghost a kiss at your temple, then another on your cheek, before he moved his mouth further down and murmured his next threat down the column of your throat, “and I promise it won’t be long until you will beg for me to take you apart without any coercion.”

When his tongue darted out over the sensitive spot just under your jaw, a whimper escaped from your chest before you could stop it, and you felt him smile against your skin.

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Please, anyone could catch us.”

He chuckled. “Sam and Steve are preventing that,” he said, pulling away just enough to start unbuttoning your black chef’s jacket. “But,” he continued, “if you make too much noise, you’ll confirm that we’re doing anything more than talking.”

Once he had finished with all the buttons, he pushed the coat open. Your eyes were still closed until you felt the cool edge of a knife on your sternum, and your eyes burst open again, fear and adrenaline rushing through your body, but luckily he wasn’t looking at your face, focused instead on your chest where his metal fingers skimmed lightly over the bared skin for just a moment before they gripped the fabric of your black camisole and bra while his other hand tore his knife down in a swift movement, splitting your undergarments down the middle, putting your chest on full display for his hungry eyes. He pushed the clothing out of the way fully only over your left shoulder.

He lifted his gaze to meet your eyes again. “Dessert was exquisite, but it didn’t satisfy what I wanted.”

He reached for a nearby saucepan, which still had a ladle in it, and smiled as he gave it a stir. You watched as he took a scoop of the caramel sauce and poured a little over the round swell of your breast. It was warm, and started to slowly spread, but not enough to drip and make a mess. You imagined in his line of work, he knew how to be precise, not leave anything extra to clean up. He set the pan back down on the counter, and then reached for something else, returning with a pinch of the flaky salt that he then sprinkled over the caramel.

For a moment he merely admired his handiwork. then his warm hand came up to cup the underside of your breast, and then his mouth descended to lap up the salted caramel from your tender flesh. Heat bloomed across your chest and straight to your head and your core, his ministrations eliciting a low moan from you. He hummed in approval, then took your nipple into his mouth. Your nipples were always very sensitive, and he was not careful with his attention there, sucking, nipping, and licking until you whimpered and tried to push him away. He kept mouthing painfully at your nipple another moment longer.

He leaned back for a moment to look own at you, scrutinizing your face. You were not sure what he saw there, truthfully you didn’t know how to feel and what front to put up, but whatever he assessed didn’t deter him.

He lifted one hand to your neck and then trailed the back of his fingers down your sternum, between your breasts, over your stomach, a light touch that wasn’t rushed, knowing he could draw a shiver of anticipation from you with the purposeful action. He unbuttoned your pants, and as he slipped his hand into your panties and cupped your mound, he leaned in close to your ear and softly said, “You earned this, too, Chef.”

His fingers sought your folds. “And you are wet for me.” You didn’t need to see his face to imagine the satisfaction that must be there – it was evident in his tone. His breath was hot on the shell of your ear. “Close like this,” he whispered, “I’ll still hear even the small pretty noises I’m going to draw from you with my fingers in your cunt.”

And even though you were expecting it – dreading it? – you gasped when he quickly thrust two fingers inside you, knuckles deep, and moved them expertly in and out of your tight heat, questing and quickly finding the sensitive spongy spot on the front of your pelvic wall. You bit your lip to keep keening as quiet as you could, and your arms gripped his biceps, looking for an anchor to reality. He played your pussy quickly, nimble and knowing fingers familiarizing themselves too easily with your body for your comfort.

His thumb went to work expertly drawing tight circles over your clit, still thrusting his fingers inside you, and the additional stimulation forced you into an intense orgasm you didn’t want to give him, burrowing your face into his neck to smother your small cry of ecstasy.

You didn’t want to see his face – undoubtedly haughty knowing he’s pleased you despite you wanting to refuse him the satisfaction – and in this you are spared at least for the moment as without pretense he abruptly spins you around and tugs your pants and underwear down your thighs. You heard the quick unbuckling of his belt and unzipping of his pants as he freed his hard length. You had only a second to brace yourself against the countertop as he gripped your hip with one hand and used his other to guide his tip to your thoroughly slick and ready opening. One full and quick thrust had him fully sheathed inside you, punching the air from your lungs. He leaned forward against your back, his mouth close to your ear again. “Feel me in there? Stretching you to the limit.”

He rolled his hips ever so slightly, slowly, and your head fell back against his shoulder.

“Yes, Chef. Just like that.”

He pulled his hips back, then gave another slow and powerful drive into your cunt. “Feel as smooth and velvety around my cock as that caramel sauce was on my tongue.” While one hand remained on your hip, as he began to pick up the pace with his thrusts his other hand brushed up your spine, then moved around to grasp your breast, the one he’d overstimulated just a few minutes before. You whimpered and tried to jerk away, but you’re met with his strong chest up against your back. He chuckled and then began to tweak and roll the nipple between his fingers.

You tried to pull his hand away, still whimpering.

“I intend to leave you feeling me for days from this, Chef,” he growls in your ear. His thrusts become rougher, faster, slamming into you over and over again. Your hands pulled at his wrist torturing your nipple, but your strength was nothing to his, and soon tears were spilling down your cheeks. When an audible sob escaped your throat, he finally relented and released your breast, but then he gripped your hips with both hands, showing no mercy for your pussy as he chased his own pleasure.

Without the pain, your body focused only on the pleasure mounting in your core now. This felt good. He felt good. His cock filled you exquisitely. You tried to rock your hips just slightly to where you know he’d hit that pleasurable spot in you again, but he controlled the movement and forced you to stay at the angle he wanted.

“This one is for me, Chef, not you,” he grunted.

Still, you pant together, lungs heaving, and you’re hurtling toward another orgasm. His hips stutter for a moment, and with a groan he releases his spend inside you, slowing his movements.

You couldn’t hold back a needy whine as he pulled out of you. You looked over your shoulder at him incredulously, edged to the very moment before but then denied your second release.

He paused after tucking his softening cock back into his boxer briefs and gripped your chin, demanding an abrasive kiss from your lips. “When you come apart on my cock, I want to watch your beautiful face and hear you beg for me.”

Years in the kitchen have taught you to hold back your words when there’s even a shade of uncertainty, and you are uncertain if you will give him what he wants or not, because you can’t deny that your body absolutely wants him, and part of your spirit does, too. Relentless power recognizing another like its own, and you hate that you’re more than a little intrigued. You don’t want to just give him what he wants, but a tiny sliver of you whispers that you shouldn’t cut off your nose just to spite him.

You pulled up your pants while you heard him zip and buckle his own pants again. One he had tucked in his shirt, again with swift precision, he turned you back around to face him. He reached for your apron, wiped his hands, then set it back on the counter. He didn’t mess with your torn shirt and bra other than to adjust them well enough so he could close your chef coat and button that back up over your chest.

He gazed right into your eyes again, brushing his thumb over your lips, parting them slightly, then pushing them closed again.

“I’ll be back for more soon,” he finally said, then walked away without another word.

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

LINK TO PART TWO: FAT

#mob!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #navy and roo's sleepover #navy and roo sleepover #bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #mob bucky barnes x reader #mob boss!bucky #mob boss au #mob boss! avengers #f!reader #aspen wrote something #female reader

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remember-that-one-blog · 4 months

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As We Go Along (Part 1)

You were offered up as a payment to a mob boss by your father and step-mother. He agreed. Now you're the fiance of the most feared man in New York.

I do not own these characters!

Warnings: Abuse not openly mentioned but is talked about.

This first part is more of a background and getting to know each other chapter. More to come!

You were a burden. At least that’s the way they made you feel. You were from your father’s first marriage. Your mother had died when you were young and your step-mother never had anything for you. She never loved you, but she loved your sister. The daughter she had with your father. You knew this but you never thought she would talk your father into doing this to you. Marrying you off to some mob boss so he could get himself out of debt that he got himself in. She came up with it and he took it to the boss’ right hand man. Two days letter you’re engaged. You didn’t care either way. You hadn’t met the man yet, but you had heard rumors. He was cold-hearted and cruel. Nothing you weren’t used to.

Your father told you that you were to meet him tomorrow at his home.

“You will meet him tomorrow at noon. Here is the address. It should be easy enough to find.”

“Yes, sir.” Your father nodded without another word. That let you know that you were on your own now. Not that you haven’t been since your mom died. You packed up what little you had. Everything you owned fit into one duffle bag. As you laid in your bed for the last time you looked back on your time here with your family. You decided nowhere could be worse than here. With that thought in mind you slipped into a dreamless sleep.

You stood outside your childhood home giving it one last glance. It was bittersweet leaving this place. This is where you had all the memories of your mother, but this place had also been your living hell. You turned away with all the good memories of your mother in the forefront of your mind. A small part of you felt she was leaving with you as well.

You made your way to the bus stop. You looked at the address and read the bus schedule so you knew which bus you would need to take. It was hard, you had been getting around like this for years. You found when the bus you needed would be here you had hoped you left early enough just in case of any delays the buses may have.

You timed it just right. You made it to the address with ten minutes to spare. Although, all you saw was a giant gate but no house. A loud beep caught made you jump. That’s when you saw the intercom.

“State your business.”

“I’m Alexander Pierce’s daughter. I’m supposed to meet Mr. Barnes.” You heard the gate buzz open. A tall, blonde man in a black suit appeared before you in a black SUV. He stepped out to greet you.

“Ms. Pierce, Mr. Barnes has been expecting you. My name is Steve. I can help you with your bags.” He looked around you confused. You felt your face go bright red.

“This is all I have.” You grabbed your duffle bag by the handle. You saw something flash in his eyes but you weren’t sure what. He nodded and held the front door open for you.

“Here, I’ll put it in the back for you.” Steve took your duffle and sat it in the back seat.

“Thank you.” He gave you his hand to help you as you climbed into the front seat. This was new for you. You had never been treated this well. Maybe they were expecting someone else. You couldn’t help as these thoughts ran through your mind. Steve could tell you didn’t want to talk so he left the two of you in a comfortable silence.

It was a short drive to the house you were going to. It was more of a mansion. You felt your mouth drop at the sight. You heard Steve chuckle a bit. Your face went red again.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know. You’ll be fine. He’s not so bad once you get to know him.”

“You know him pretty well then?”

“I do. Been friends since we were kids. I know him better than he knows himself most of the time.” You nodded as you took in this information. That gave you a little bit of hope, not that you really ever clinged to it. Steve stopped the vehicle as you reached the front door. He got out, grabbed your bag, and proceeded to help you down onto the ground. “Take a deep breath and follow me. You’ll be fine.”

You nodded as you followed Steve up the stairs. The front door itself was huge. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a place this big. Not that someone lived in any way. As you stepped inside you tried to take it all in. It was beautiful. Everything seemed to be decorated in light gray, white, and gold accents. While it was beautiful it didn’t have that homey feel that most homes do. Given what he does, that's not too surprising. There were tall windows everywhere. It made everything look even bigger. It was very modern. You were still reeling as you followed Steve further into the house. As you reached your destination you heard yelling that made you jump. Steve steadied you with a hand to your shoulder.

“It’s okay. Give me a minute while I go talk to him.” You just nodded. Steve sat your bag down beside you and knocked three times on the door.

“Come in!” Steve cracked the door and stuck his head in,

“Buck, it’s Pierce’s daughter.”

“Send her in.” Steve stepped back out to usher you inside the room. Once you entered your eyes went straight to the man behind the desk. He was handsome. Dark hair and bright blue eyes. He was almost as tall as Steve and just as built as he was. He was in a dark gray three piece suit.

“Ms. Pierce, I’ve been expecting you. How did your driver find the place?” You felt yourself deflate. So he had been expecting your sister. You wanted to ask but couldn’t bring yourself to, afraid of the answer.

“Uh, I didn’t - I mean, I brought myself. I don’t have a driver.” Bucky stopped what he was doing. You were looking down at the floor. He said your name just loud enough. Surprised you glanced up at him.

“You mean to tell me, your father sent you here alone?”

“Yes, sir. He did.” Bucky felt his skin crawl. At first glance he thought you were beautiful. Nothing would change that. As he looked closer though he could tell you weren’t taken care of. He could tell you had been given the bare minimum to survive. That was something that would not bode well with him.

“Why would he send you here alone?” You knew the true answer, but you were sure Bucky didn’t want to hear that.

“He had other business to attend to and I was capable of making it here myself.” Bucky didn’t like that answer.

“That’s not an acceptable reason.” That surprised you. “And doll, you can call me Bucky, everyone else does. ‘Sir’ is what everyone called my father.” His nickname for you caught you by surprise. You weren’t sure how to feel about it, but you didn’t hate it

“Of course, sir- I mean, Bucky.” Bucky straightened his tie and made his way to you.

“I have a meeting in a couple of minutes, I don’t have time to show you around or I would. Steve can show you around. I just have two rules.” You nodded to show you were listening. “Never go anywhere alone and never knock on or open this door if it’s closed. The only exception is if it is an emergency. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Steve, if you’ll show her around. I’ll meet you for dinner around seven, doll. I’ll take you out and we’ll get to know each other.” Before you could answer his phone rang. You followed Steve back out of the office and watched him pull the door closed. Steve must have sensed your hesitation.

“Just put on the best clothes you have, sweetheart.” You just nodded. You really didn’t have anything to go out in. You would see what you had though. You followed Steve around as he showed you where everything was. What you couldn’t wait to use was the kitchen. You loved to cook and bake. You didn’t get the chance to do it much at home, but maybe you could here. Finally, Steve showed you to your room. It was three times bigger than your old room was. You had what seemed to be a king sized bed, a little balcony that overlooked the backyard, an en suite bathroom and a closet that you could fit your entire old room in.

“Bucky thought you would want some space. He knows this wasn’t up to you.”

“I’ll have to tell him thank you.” Steve sat your duffle bag beside the bed.

“I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be just down the hall if you need me.”

“Thank you, Steve.” He closed your door as he left. You looked around and laid down on the bed. It was so soft and cozy! You couldn’t believe it. You pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Maybe, just maybe, this would be okay.

Steve listened for you but you seemed to be unpacking. He could hear you moving around. Once he was sure you were okay, he went to talk to Bucky. Steve saw the door cracked and eased his way inside. Bucky was on the phone but he wasn’t as heated as earlier. He saw Steve made his way to him and ended the call. Steve made his way over to a seat in front of Bucky’s desk.

“So, anything?”

“She’s not anything like her father. She seems to be the exact opposite. She’s quiet, reserved. She doesn’t own a lot, Buck. She came here with one duffle bag. One.” That made Bucky’s skin prickle. He knew Pierce was a harsh man but didn’t think he would be harsh with his daughter.

“So you don’t think this is a set up?”

“If it is, she doesn’t know about it. From what I can tell she wouldn’t do something like that. She’s too soft spoken to do or go along with something like that.”

“I picked up on that, too. I don’t think she was treated well there.” Steve shook his head.

“I don’t think she was either. She seems to be genuine. Which is a surprise considering who her father is.” Bucky nodded. This was unusual, even for him. He normally wouldn’t agree to something like this, but he was looking to settle down as well. The last few women he dated only wanted him for money. He was hoping this might change that.

“Where did you plan on taking her tonight?”

“I’m not sure yet. Why?”

“I don’t think she has anything to wear to a nice restaurant. She seemed a bit panicked when you brought it up.”

“We’ll eat in tonight then. Would you care to go get it?”

“Not at all. You could go talk to her if you want. She’s good, Buck. You could use some good.” Bucky nodded. That was true he could. Steve got up to go get dinner while Bucky debated on going to find you.

You decided to go look around yourself taking your time. You couldn’t find Steve so you decided to go downstairs and see if you could find him there. You looked down the small hallway to see Bucky’s office door was cracked. You thought about going to ask him if you could look around yourself, but your thoughts were distracted by the kitchen. It was state-of-the-art. The mixers, the pans, the refrigerator. Everything was something out of one of your dreams. Your thoughts were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. You jumped, turning around to see Bucky standing behind you.

“There you are. I thought you would still be unpacking.”

“No, it didn’t take me long. Sorry, I was just curious to see what you had in here. It’s amazing.” You looked around, still blown away by his kitchen.

“No need to apologize. Make yourself at home.” You gave him a small smile. You weren’t sure you knew how to do that. Bucky made his way over to one of the bar stools. He sat down while he eyed you from across the counter. He studied you as you studied him. He seemed to be a little more relaxed. His jacket was off and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Bucky noticed you changed into an oversized sweatshirt, some leggings and fuzzy socks. You seemed so cozy. “So, tell me about yourself, doll. What do you like to do?”

“There isn’t much to tell really. I help my family out when I can and bake if I get the chance.” Bucky nodded his head.

“What’s your favorite thing to bake?”

“Chocolate chip cookies, any kind of cookie really but definitely chocolate chip.”

“Would you wanna make some?” You felt your eyes get big. “No one uses the kitchen much. I usually either go out or order in and no one ever bakes.” You felt yourself getting excited.

“Yeah, I’d love to.” You gave Bucky a genuine smile. Those were very rare for you. Bucky gave you one back, his were probably as rare as yours were, maybe even moreso.

Many cookies later, you and Bucky asked small questions at first. You found out he loved sweets and would love to have a dog but is afraid he wouldn’t have the time for one. He found out you loved dogs, even more than you loved baking, and you had never left the state of New York.

“We’ll change that, doll. Don’t you worry.” You giggled at that.

“You know, you’re nothing like everyone makes you out to be.”

“I’m sure my reputation proceeds me. Let me guess, a cold hearted killer and womanizer? That’s what they say in the tabloids I see every now and then.”

“Pretty much, but I will say you are much kinder to me than what I’m used to.” You gave him a small smile. You saw something flash in his eyes that you couldn’t place. With that he decided to bring up the elephant in the room.

“There is something I do want to talk to you about, doll.” You took a pan of cookies out of the oven and sat the next pan in while the others cooled.

“Okay, what’s that?”

“The reason I agreed to your father’s proposal.” You turned around to face him. You had been curious about it but didn’t want to ask out right.

“Okay.”

“Did you want to ask me anything?”

“I did wonder why you agreed to it. I mean, I’m nothing special. Men usually come to my father about proposals for my sister, not me. Although I know this was his idea. I’m just surprised you agreed to it.” You had never been this open and honest with someone you just met. There was just something about Bucky. “I’m sorry, that was overstepping. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Not overstepping, doll. I surprised myself when I agreed to it. The thing is, I am ready to settle down, but not give up my title just yet. I am tired of women just wanting money or just wanting to say they were with me. Granted, I could have gone about it differently than this, but it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t want something.”

“My father was the one who wanted something though.”

“Yes, but not you. I’m just curious as to why you just went along with it.” You took a deep breath.

“You want an honest answer?”

“Of course, doll.”

“I didn’t have a choice. My family also sees me as in the way. So, it got me out of their way.” Bucky’s heart broke for you. You could see it in his eyes. You felt your face turn bright red. You were going to be honest. Your family never hid their disdain for you around anyone, so you didn’t see the point in trying to hide it yourself.

“That’s terrible, doll. I can assure you, you won’t be in the way here. If you ever feel like that you come to me, understand?”

“I understand.” The timer went off for the last batch of cookies just as Steve walked in the door with take out. Your stomach immediately rumbled at the smell of Chinese food. Steve walked in, sitting the food on the counter.

“It smells like a bakery. Did you do all this?” Steve looked around at all the cookies you had baked. You felt your face turn red again.

“She did, we’re gonna try them after we eat.”

“They smell amazing. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Wait, Steve! Here, take some with you. I made way too many as it is.” You hurriedly put a couple of batches in some containers you had found earlier. Steve looked to Bucky as you were packing up the cookies. Steve gave Bucky a small smile and a slight nod you didn’t pick up on. You handed Steve the bag before Bucky could silently reply to Steve. Steve gave you a big smile.

“Thanks, sweetheart. I can’t wait to try them.”

“Let me know what you think. I haven’t got my recipe just right yet.”

“I’ll let you know. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Steve left you all to your dinner. Bucky started getting the containers out. You decided to go ahead and put the cookies that were already cooled in a container. Bucky was still getting food out when you were finished. You hadn’t seen this much food in front of you in a long time. Not that you didn’t eat, you just didn’t eat much. Bucky watched your eyes get wide.

“You okay, doll?”

“Yeah, that’s just a lot of food.”

“Maybe, but then we can have leftovers tomorrow.” He said it so easily. You were a little taken back. “Doll, would you care to get these last few containers out so I can go change. Then we’ll eat.” You just nodded. You didn’t have it in you to reply. Bucky walked up the stairs to his room as you got the last few containers out. You were still in shock at all the food. And the fact that he got some for you too caught you off guard. You didn’t realize it but you felt tears in your eyes. Usually when your family ordered out you got what was left and if you were still hungry you made yourself something in the kitchen. You didn’t hear Bucky come up behind you.

“Everything okay, doll?” He noticed the tears in your eyes. You quickly wiped them away. You noticed he had changed into a white t-shirt and some gray sweatpants. You thought he looked even better like this than in his suit.

“Yeah, everything is fine. I was just getting the rest out.” You put the paper bag in the trash can you found earlier. Bucky sat down on the same bar stool from earlier. He started opening the containers.

“Get whatever you like, doll. I got some of everything. I didn’t know what you would like.” You didn’t know what you would like either. You hadn’t had Chinese takeout before. Your family would get it sometimes but there was never any left for you. “What’s going on in your head?”

“Um, it’s just, uh-”

“Doll, you can talk to me. The side of me you see right now, no one else sees. This is for you and you alone. I want you to be able to talk to me. I know this isn’t conventional but I would like to be able to be open and honest with one another.” You wanted that too, but you weren’t sure how to do it. You never had anyone to confide in. Ever. This was all so new to you, so you decided to be open and honest about everything.

“I’m not used to this, Bucky. I’m not used to being doted on. I never get take-out. I don’t get luxurious bedrooms. I get told what to do and when to do it. I don’t know how to confide in someone. I don’t know how to make myself at home because I’ve never had that luxury. I always get the bare minimum. I’m the burden of my family and they let everyone know.” You hadn’t realized tears started to spill over by the end of what was always on your heart. You had never told anyone this. Bucky reached for your hand nearest him. When you didn’t pull away he clasped it in both of his. You could see Bucky’s eyes dim and then watch something light in them you had never seen before.

“You will never be in the way here. You are going to be my wife and with that is going to come a lot of things you’re not used to. I can see that now. If you are ever overwhelmed please do not hesitate to tell me. I want you to be able to tell me what you’re feeling. This is new to me, too. I want to be honest with you. Granted there are some things that I do that I would rather keep you away from and I will try my best to. Doll, here you will be taken care of and doted on. You won’t even remember what it was like at that house you lived in. We’ll learn as we go along.” You didn’t realize you needed to hear that. You squeezed Bucky’s hand as well as you could as he had started holding your more firmly than before.

“We’ll learn as we go along.” He squeezed your hand back releasing it.

“Great, now that we’ve talked about that. What do you want to try first?” You smiled as you pointed to some chicken that looked good. Bucky handed it to you and waited until you tried it before he grabbed something as well.

And that’s how your first night went with your fiance. Trying Chinese take-out you had never had and learning how to make yourself at home. Maybe you could get used to this.

#bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob!au #marvel imagine #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x you #platonic steve x reader #marvel #the avengers #mafia!bucky #soft bucky #soft!bucky

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

Note

Re your dream: That smacks of MobBoss!Thor. Your current boyfriend is one of Thor's higher-ups and he brought you along to a dinner meeting and Thor is immediately taken with you. Thor is of course very charming and starts working on how to steel you away from your boyfriend.

Take a Seat

Warnings: allusions to mafia/crime, intimidation, suggestions of verbal and mental abuse, toxicity.

This might just be a drabble, but I'd appreciate a reblog and some feedback! You are loved and appreciated. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

"Those are mostly capos," Travis keeps his voice low as he points to the table nearby, keeping the glass in hand to hide his gesture, "I think…" he cranes around, "I might be the only soldier here…"

"Really?" You raise your brows but quickly resume your neutral preen.

You're intimidated as it is. You don't know much about Travis' business, and this is your first time seeing it from the inside. However, it doesn't seem to be anything more than an overly fancy dinner party.

"Oh, and that's Loki," he darts his eyes sharply to a slender man strutting at the other end of the room. He has a short liquor glass in hand and stops to lean on close to a blond man along the head table, "the boss's brother. The one he's chatting up right now." Travis leans in, "Thor…" he explains, "hon," he puts his hand on yours, "try not to stare. Lot of guys in here don't appreciate it."

"Sorry, I…" your eyes catch the pair of blue irises at the near table. The ones set into the chiseled face of that man proclaimed boss, Thor. Your lips part in surprise before you quickly avert your gaze. "I'm just nervous."

"Yeah, uh, well, try not to look like it," he reproaches. "Maybe…maybe I shoulda come alone."

You try not to frown. He does that. When you go out to dinner, if you don't keep a smile pasted on, suddenly the night is spoiled. Or even at home when you're having a quiet night in, you can ruin the night with one wrong word.

"I'll keep my eyes to myself," you promise, "okay?"

"Right," he nods past you and greets another man as he passes by. "Make sure you do. And if someone says hi, don't be so shy. I don't need you getting on the wrong side of these guys." He grabs his glass and takes a gulp, "this could be my in."

"Got it," you pinch the stem of your champagne flute and draw it closer but don't drink. Better not, sobriety will keep you out of trouble.

💍

Travis ends up at another table, enthralled in conversation with a pair of greasy haired gangsters in patterned velvet jackets. You stare at the table, trying not to attract any unwanted attention. Dinner is over and dessert has mostly gone untouched. You're just waiting for the end.

Thinking of the drive back, you should try to hit the bathroom before that. You peek around cautiously and stand, hugging your clutch to your side as you carefully sidle out from between the table and chair. You keep your head down and make your way to the wall, following it to the short hallway that leads to a set of restrooms.

Inside, you take your time, relieved at the moment of privacy. As you wash your hands, you watch your reflection. You look tired even through your makeup.

You grab your purse and go back out. You hold back a yawn as you get to the end of the hallway and you stop to search the room, making sure Travis is where you left him. You take a step, nearly tripping as a deep voice rumbles from closeby.

You think of ignoring it, assuming they're speaking to someone else, but then you remember what Travis said. You turn and look around.

The blond man, the one with the burly shoulders that threaten the seams of his tailored jacket, grins at you. His fingers are woven together and his elbows rest on the table. He winks at you as you peer around in confusion, expecting someone else to be closeby. It's only you.

"You," he separates his hand and points in your direction, "I do not know you."

You open and close your mouth. You step closer as you swallow and find a smile through your nerves. You grip your purse tight and pronounce your name.

"I'm with Travis. Er, Mallory. My boyfriend. Uh, sir."

His eyes twinkle with amusement, "Thor," he introduces, "sir? Please, none of that is needed. Not for a pretty woman like you."

"S-thank you, Th-Thor," you sound utterly stupid as you try to keep your calm. If Travis saw you talking to this man, you know it would be bad. He wouldn't want you messing up his prospects.

"Sit," his invitation is more a demand.

You can't refuse. What little you know of this business suggests he is even more dangerous than Travis. You go around the table as Thor stands and pulls out the empty chair next to him. You sit and make yourself breathe.

"Boyfriend?" He resumes his seat, angling to face you, "not husband?"

"Not yet," you say.

"And why would he wait?" He wonders as you wilt against his handsome gaze.

"I'm sure he'll propose soon," you shrug, "dinner was great."

"Ah, it was delicious," he sits back, "though my company was not so pleasing." He bends his arm against the table, "not like you."

"I… thank you. That's very, uh, flattering."

"It's the truth. I'm afraid I was probably poor company myself. Being as distracted as I was," his eyes cling to you, "wondering who this beautiful stranger is."

You look away. He's charming, if not a touch cheesy. You don't know how to handle it.

"There you are," Travis saves you from your conundrum. "I was just thinking we should–" he stops and clears his throat, "sir," he stands at the end of the table, "hi, er, I didn't see you there," it's obvious his surprise is fake, "Travis Mallory, I work with Haakonson."

"Ah, yes, he is a reliable capo," Thor shifts and puts his hand on the back of your chair, "I was only just having a discussion with your… girlfriend."

"Oh? That's…great," Travis is less than convincing.

"Yes, I was just agreeing with her that it's really too bad you haven't proposed," Thor asserts and your eyes widen. "A girl like her should have a ring on her finger."

"Yea, sir, I agree, I, um, I was… trying to surprise her–"

"Ah, so you have a ring? Diamond? I think a teardrop becomes this one but she might do well with a princess cut," Thor proclaims as he takes your hand, drawing a wince from you. "She should be adorned in gold and gems."

"Sir, I know, I've been working on it–"

"Ah, ah," Thor keeps his hand on yours, "I don't like excuses. And she shouldn't settle for them."

Thor raises your hand and kisses your knuckles. You can only let him. Your scalp spatters with heat as you nearly combust between the two men.

"She deserves a throne… look at her, a queen."

"Sir, thank you. She is. I take care of her–"

"Do you?" Thor accuses, "how do you take care of her?"

You don't dare tug your hand away despite the urge to do just that. You sit frozen as his hand crushes yours. You slowly turn your head to glance at Travis, his cheek twitching in agitation.

"I…" he swallows and tries to wet his dry mouth. He can't yell this man into submission and he knows it.

"Let me give her the throne she deserves," Thor snickers and leans over. His nose tickles your ear and he lowers his voice to a whisper, "come, kitten, sit in my lap."

He sits back and you gape at him, shocked by his suggestion. No, it's an order. You blink and look at Travis again. Thor hits the table with his large hand, the plates and cutlery clattering.

"You don't need his permission," he pulls on your arm, "you need only my word."

"S-sorry," you slide forward in the seat and stand stiffly.

Thor releases your hand and shoves his chair back, running his large hands over his thighs. You step in front of him and he frames your hips, pulling you down before you can think to refuse. You fall into his lap, bracing his forearm to keep your balance.

"Now that is where a woman like her belongs," Thor leans into you and rests his chin on your shoulder, "with a king, not a peasant."

You look at Travis, horror pumping in your veins, a fear reflected in his drawn face. Thor brushes a hand up your stomach and turns his head to nuzzle your neck. The tickle of his beard makes you moan.

Thor lifts his head at last, his arm hooked around you as he clings to your tightly, "what a wonderful gift you brought me, soldier."

Travis does not move. He just stares, blinking as his fingers twiddle at his side. Your lip trembles. What do you do?

"You are dismissed," Thor enunciates harshly.

Travis bites down, jaw clenching tightly, and he murmurs, "yes, boss."

His sole scuffs as he drags his foot back. You watch him in disbelief. He's just leaving you there.

"You see, kitten," Thor reaches to pet your head, "he is not good enough for you. You deserve more than a coward."

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #drabble #au #mob au #marvel #mcu #avengers

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stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 2 years

Text

More | Bucky Barnes (Mob AU)

mob!bucky barnes x f!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: You're the secretary to one of the most powerful mob bosses in the country, and that's what he was supposed to stay—your boss. The heart often has other plans. Now, you're in a race against time to save the life of James Barnes, the mob boss who has become so much more.

A/N: Longer one today, just as angsty as I'm used to. I write better with the more angst I do and you can't tell me any different. As always, let me know if you have any requests or comments because I love you all! Keep those dreams alive 🤍

Warnings: mob!bucky, vioence, angst, fluff throughout (because I'm really trying here), secretary!reader, mentions of past abuse in relationship, protective bucky

Word Count: 13,122

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I have to make it. I have to.

"Come on, come on, come on," I breathe out, drumming my nails nervously against my steering wheel and peering around the car in front of me.

He's not answering his phone. I have to make it in time.

I take my lip between my teeth, the anxiety in my chest only rising as each second ticks by. Finally I swear under my breath and swerve around the car before me, slamming the gas pedal to the floor. A chorus of honks rises around me but I don't care. All I know is that he's going to die.

My boss is going to die if I don't make it.

You may be wondering to yourself, how did a meagerly-paid secretary end up breaking traffic laws and nearly crashing her boss's brand new Tesla just to get to him in time? Why would I even bother? Why would his life be in danger in the first place?

Well, to understand that, I'm going to have to take you back to where my life of crime began.

If my mother ever heard I had a life of crime, she'd kill me herself, so let's keep this one between us.

|||

2 Years Prior

"I'm sorry sir, but you don't have an appointment and Mr. Barnes is full for today," I repeat, quickly losing my ever-bearing patience with the brash business man before me.

His eyes dart around my desk and to the office of my boss, CEO James Barnes. I've only worked here for a few months and yet being his personal secretary is proving more difficult than I imagined.

"Look sweetheart, just let me through and I won't take but a few minutes of his time," the man pushes, not even sparing me a glance as he walks around my desk. I shoot to my feet and step in his way, not hearing the office door open behind me.

"You can either see yourself out, or I can have someone help you. Either way, sir, you're not seeing Mr. Barnes today." I assert, my heart pounding and blood boiling in indignation.

If there's one thing I've learned in my time working in Corporate America, it's that most rich and powerful men think they're so far above the rest of the world that they're entitled to open doors wherever they go. Thankfully, my boss is one of the better ones.

Definitely better than this tool in front of me. I almost scoff in disbelief when the man goes to step around me again.

"You don't scare me, sweetheart. I'm just gonna-"

I step directly in front of his path, my eyes flashing with anger.

"Either you leave right now, or I'll personally make sure you'll never get a time slot with my boss. And it's Ms. Y/L/N, not sweetheart" I grit out, standing my ground and leveling my glare at the man.

"Who do you think you-"

I feel the warmth of his presence before he even says a word.

"Do you feel a need for career-suicide, or are you just incompetent?" A dark, rough voice sounds behind me, cutting off the business man.

As my boss steps beside me, the heat of his presence washes over me and I don't even need to look over to know that his menacing face is on display. I can see it's impact in the business man's sudden desire to leave.

"Uh, I-I am so sorry sir. I'll be on my way."

As he scurries to the elevator, I feel my cheeks heat as I look over at James. His dark hair is cut short but is left long enough to be perfectly messy. His bright blue eyes are already piercing into my exhausted ones.

"Sorry for the commotion, sir. I'll try to handle them quicker next time," I start, but my nerves are lessened by the slightly impressed look upon James' features.

"I've never seen you get angry before," my boss notes, making more heat crawl up my neck.

"Yeah well, I used to let everyone use me as their doormat, but I don't let people walk all over me anymore." I respond with half of a laugh. He hums at that, his eyes trained on me.

I break the contact first, turning around suddenly to my desk to avoid the way his eyes seem to burn the air between us to nothing.

"Miss Y/L/N, can I have a word with you in my office?" He speaks again after a few agonizing moments of silence. My hands freeze and I slowly turn around to find his gaze inquisitive.

"Of course, boss" I reply, clasping my hands together to hide the way they tremble slightly. James Barnes is quite possibly the most terrifying person I've ever met, and yet the more time I spend in this job the less he scares me.

When follow his gesture to walk before him to his office, he slips his hand to the small of my back as I enter and I swear my skin sets on fire. I hurry away from his touch and into a chair as fast as I can. There's a slight hint of amusement upon his features as he settles back in his massive chair, eying me from across the desk.

"Is...is everything alright, sir?" I question after a minute of the thick silence. He sits straighter at this, leaning his forearms on his desk and clasping his hands together.

"Do you have a criminal record, Miss Y/L/N?"

His question startles me so much that it takes me a moment to respond.

"I'm...sorry?" I question, not understanding where this is going.

"Anything at all," James continues as if I didn't say a word, "Petty theft, aggravated assault, murder-"

"Sir I definitely don't have a criminal record," I cut in, my heart beginning to increase in speed. James nods, his blue eyes pinning me to the spot.

"Good, that makes you unsuspecting," he states, only heightening my confusion, "In order for you to be of best use, not to mention safe, it's best if you know exactly what it is that I do."

I sit completely dumbstruck and left with no response at all. My mouth opens and closes as I search for words, but I can't seem to find any.

"You've got a backbone and you're an honest, hard worker. That, you've proven. And, against my better judgement," Barnes pauses, his gaze taking on a somewhat softer, almost vulnerable gaze, "I trust you, Y/N."

My heart leaps into my throat and something stirs within me when he says that...that word. Y/N. My name. He said my name for the first time since he hired me. I don't know why it has such an effect on me, but it does.

Before I can stop myself, I blurt "I trust you too."

I do? When did I make that decision? And why did I just say it out loud?

Something in my boss's face shifts at my words, but he masks it with his usual cool, calm demeanor. He sits again in silence for a moment, taking in me and my response before he nods.

"The business I run is more lucrative than what the surface shows. I need someone on my side on the surface level, an associate who can assist me in matters at this office."

"This office?" I repeat, my brows furrowing together as my heart begins to race again. What does he mean by lucrative? And why is there excitement bubbling in my gut?

What he says next would change my life forever.

"I'm the White Wolf, Y/N." my boss's low voice rumbles, his eyes bright and clear, "I'm the-"

"King of organized crime, ruler of the New York mob," I interrupt, my eyes wide and my entire being not comprehending what's happening. I should leave. I should quit this job and call the police and leave. I should be terrified. But there's something in those eyes...

What I say next would start that life of crime I mentioned earlier, and quite frankly I still don't fully understand where it came from within me.

"Sure," I simply say, and the shock that splays on James' face must mirror my own.

"Sure as in..." he trails off, waiting for me to elaborate and clarify what we both know I mean. I swallow down my nerves and go with the decision my entire head is screaming against but my entire gut yells louder for.

"I'm in," I say, this time with more confidence, "Like I said before, I trust you. And I get the feeling you'd kill me if I said no."

Humor traipses across his features as he sits back in his chair in surprise. He plays with the ring in his finger, nodding slightly to me.

"That went better than planned," he murmurs, and I don't know why but I feel like smiling. My entire body is buzzing and my head is swimming, but something deep inside of me is waking up.

I've been walked all over my entire life. That's just the way it's been. I didn't know the difference between being nice and being a doormat for people's convenience until I was well into my life. As much as I hate to admit it, there's something about James Barnes that I trust, there has been since the day I met him. I felt it pull deep in my soul and now, knowing what he does and who he is...

It's time I control my fate, time that I grab my destiny and force it into motion. It's time that I stop letting people walk all over me and be the person who has a voice and a say and...and power. I've heard of the White Wolf as long as he's been around. He may be ruthless but he is not cruel. He's always looked out for the city, taken the scum off the streets and done the things the politicians refuse to. I trust James. And something deep within me is shouting that this is right, that this my destiny, that this is the strings of fate pulling.

And I know when to listen.

"Welcome, Ms. Y/L/N," James announces, standing and keeping his gaze burning down on mine, "To the real business."

|||

Seven months later.

One night, about seven months after the conversation that absolutely changed my life, I'm working overtime in the office.

My hands are dug into my hair and my eyes droop closed. I release my hold on my hair to knock back the last of an energy drink, but the liquid has little effect. I desperately read through the computer screen, hoping to solve the legal entanglement before me.

James informed me when I came into work this morning that some over-righteous beat-cop was looking too much into the business we hide behind our Property Management company. I've been here all day long trying to figure out how to file all the necessary forms to make this disappear and seem a joke. That's taken longer than I expected, though, and at nearly midnight, James and I are still here working.

"God, this is awful," I groan, dropping my head to rest on my arms upon my desk, my forehead seeping in the cool of the wood. I hear my boss's office door open but don't even bother moving. Eventually, a soft laugh sounds that makes me drag my head up and look over to its origin.

"You look absolutely pitiful" James comments, his tired eyes dancing with a humor that seeps into my own features slowly. A small smile tugs at my lips as I sit up fully.

"Thanks, that's what I was going for," I quip sarcastically.

He coughs out a laugh that makes my chest tighten slightly and some of the exhaustion part. Over the months working for the White Wolf of crime, we've become...friends. Well, as close to friends as a mob boss and his secretary can get.

"Come on, let's take a break. We've been at this for too long, I don't even know how you can think straight," James mentions. I shake my head, blinking a few times before turning back to the computer screen.

"No, I've almost got this loophole figured out and we'll be golden if I can just-" I'm cut off abruptly by a strong, calloused hand gently gripping my chin and turning it up so I'm looking at James. My heart gallops suddenly and it takes every ounce of strength to keep my composure against the charge coursing through me.

"Y/N, take a break," he mumbles so soft that a shiver runs down my spine. We stay locked like that for a moment until I nod and pull myself out of his grip by standing.

"Alright" I murmur, breaking the tense, charged moment by pointing a finger at him.

"But if you bring out alcohol on the job, so help me James Barnes I'll turn you in to the police myself," I threaten emptily. He laughs genuinely this time, and it warms my spirit.

"Come on, doll. I've got an idea" he urges, walking out to the massive open save before my desk. I eye him warily and step to it, hoping that the sudden skittering and tripping of my heart at that nickname doesn't show. He's never called me anything but my name, before. Now, it's almost too easy to forget that I work for him.

"You might wanna take your heels off," he suggests, which only heightens my confusion. Nonetheless, I slip the footwear off and walk barefoot in my pant suit to my boss.

"Should I be concerned?" I ask, bringing another humored glint to those beautiful steel eyes.

"No," Barnes says simply, my eyes darting to his forearms as he rolls up the sleeves of his button-up, "I've actually been meaning to do this for a while. You're working for me in a very dangerous business, and although your involvement is kept a secret, I want you to be able to defend yourself if anything goes wrong."

His words settle over me heavily as I shrug my close-tailored suit jacket off and lay it on my desk. This is actually a smart idea. I sure don't want to be helpless should the time come and, lets be honest, it inevitably will.

"Okay," I reply, walking warily in front of my boss who's practically made of muscle, "Teach me."

Something dark floods his eyes that he blinks away quickly before holding his hands up in a fighting position, gesturing for me to do so. I oblige, putting my fists up in the best way I can. He walks over to me, slowly taking a few steps around my body to inspect my stance.

"Not bad," Barnes announces before stepping close to my side and placing those large hands against my torso and turning it slightly, "There, like that you can use the power you have against someone who might have a lot more than you."

His touch muddles my mind and I can't help but feel that his burning hands linger for a second longer than necessary before he steps away and back in front of me. Even as he does, I instantly feel like I'm missing something without his warmth. It's been that way since I began working here, though. Every little touch here and there has gotten me irrevocably addicted to the feel of him.

I'm so startled by the thought that it almost shows on my face. That train of thinking is...is highly unprofessional.

"Now, punch me" he orders. I hesitate, but don't lower my fists.

That's also unprofessional, and yet look at us.

"Are you sure?" I ask, and he simply nods. I shrug, "Alright then."

I throw the best punch I've got, but he dodges it easily and grabs my fist in his hand. Before I know what's happening, his leg hooks around my vulnerable one that I stepped with and he throws the momentum of my punch back at me so that I crash to the ground. I know that if he'd done that little move fully my back would've slammed into the ground along with my skull. Instead, he follows me to the ground and wraps an arm around my waist, breaking my fall and easing me to the ground as he hovers above me.

I know he means to say something, but words must die for him too when the all too small space between our bodies is realized. I can barely breathe and it's as if time itself has stopped. I watch his fingers flex on the floor by my head, almost as if he's going to reach out to me but chooses against it. All too soon, the moment is broken when James stands and extends a hand down to me. I take it and let him pull me up to standing, disappointment and relief mingling in my stomach.

"That move can save your life, especially against someone bigger than you." James says, a little bit more distantly than he was before.

I thank him quietly and watch him clear his throat and walk back to his office. He pauses when he reaches the door and looks back over at me.

"Y/N, I want you home in an hour tops." He orders. I nod, still slightly breathless.

"And if I stay longer?" I taunt, not even knowing where the words come from. He tilts his head at me, a challenging gaze taking over.

"Then I'll throw you over my shoulder and walk you out myself."

I almost think he means it from the mischief lingering in his gaze.

Sure enough, I go home an hour later.

|||

Five months later

It wasn't until about a year after I joined in on the mob business that I realized how well I was beginning to know James.

And how much more he was becoming to me.

"Y/N, can you get me-"

I cut off my boss by setting down two steaming coffee cups.

"Two triple espressos with low fat cream," I announce, before fishing the folder out from underneath my arm and setting it on the desk before him, "And the monthly finance report. The guys in finance weren't finished when I came by yesterday, so I made sure they had it done for this morning's meeting."

James stares up at me in shock for a moment. That shock is still lingering when he says, "And the meeting schedule?"

"Already in your computer, I emailed it to you last night. I also sent it out to everyone who's coming and made sure to tell Mr. Martinelli 10:30 instead of 11:00 so he arrives on time." I respond, clasping my hands before me and giving my boss a light smile.

"Oh," I exclaim, turning around suddenly and picking up the package I left by his door, "And this gift basket came with a heartfelt apology from Mr. Lankov. It did have an assortment of toffee-filled chocolates which I went ahead and removed for you."

Mr. Barnes reaches over and slides the basket I set down on his desk towards himself before looking up at me. He looks almost impressed, which is high praise enough.

"Will that be all, Mr. Barnes?" I ask when he just stares at me for another minute. I feel my entire body burning under his gaze and, as usual, the air is thick and palpable whenever we're in a room alone. His gaze hardens again into the cold, meticulous mob boss he is and he nods once

"That'll be all, thank you Ms. Y/L/N."

I nod and turn to walk out only to be stopped by his voice calling out to me again.

"Y/N?" James announces, making me turn to him again. I don't know what I expect him to say, but it certainly isn't what comes from him, "I think you are too close of a friend to be calling me James and Mr. Barnes by now."

My heart stutters, but I keep the emotion that surges from his words from splaying all across my face. He considers me a close friend, not just his secretary. When did it ever become more?

When did I ever convince myself it wasn't more.

"What would you like me to call you?" I ask, and the question seems all too formal. The corner of his lips tug up and the movement makes my stomach flip.

"Most of the people closest to me just call me Bucky," he informs, and a rush thrills my entire body as I nod and try to keep my smile small.

"If you need anything else let me know, Bucky." I reply, and something darkens in his gaze.

I'm frozen for another moment, his stare binding me to where I am. Phantom electricity skitters across my limbs and I realize how much I have to restrain myself from walking closer to him. It's almost as if he's the Earth and I'm the moon, caught in his gravity and unable to pull away, All at once I come to my senses and leave his office quicker than usual. I make sure the door is shut behind me before I press my back up against the cool surface.

My heart is pounding in my chest. That was too personal, that was all too personal and wildly unprofessional. Nothing that was said was but the way he looked at me, the way I melted in my spot at that gaze. It was all consuming, and I didn't think I could breathe in that room. He's a mob boss, my mob boss, and I'm his secretary. James...Bucky is naturally a brooding, intense sort of person so the way he looked at me wasn't unusual. The way my entire being reacted was.

And he's so much more than my boss, no matter how much I may try to ignore it.

As the day goes by, I try to rationalize it all. In the end, I know everything there is to know about him—what he likes and dislikes, his routines, his daily patterns. It's my job to, but he doesn't know that about me.

If he did he'd know that today is my...

I think that same thing over and over to comfort myself that everything is normal and okay, but it only just makes a part of me sink. It's almost as if the thought that I'm not more to him has the potential to break me.

You can only be broken by things that hold you.

I'm jarred from that thought when Bucky's voice sounds over my business phone speaker.

"Y/N, my office" He says simply, his voice holding that natural authority and sharp edge that it usually has.

I get up and am walking into his office moments later. Once I'm inside, I take notice that Bucky's hard at work on some document before him and doesn't even spare me a glance until the door clicks shut behind me. At this sound, he looks up and sets down his pen. He stands slowly and adjusts the cuffs of his suit jacket. That small movement sends my entire body into a downward spiral.

"You tried to hide something from me, Y/N," Bucky rumbles, and my stomach hits the floor.

I did? What did I try to hide?

"Sir, I'm not entirely sure what-"

My word die out as he stalks around his desk and up to me. My entire body is trembling, but not from fear, when he stops before me and stares at me so deeply that I feel like he's taken my heart straight from my chest with his bare hands. I'm not so sure he hasn't.

"It was a valiant effort, really," he muses, and I still have no idea what he's talking about, "But even if I only know you half as well as you know me, there was no way you could've hidden it."

My brows are furrowed when he finally reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out an envelope.

"Happy birthday, Y/N," My boss whispers, and the moment feels all too intimate as he hands me the envelope.

He knew it was my birthday. That thought sends a thrill through me that I wish I could forget. I look down at the envelope and back up at Bucky who stares at me with the hint of a genuine smile on his lips.

"You didn't have to..." I whisper, but he gives me a 'really' sort of look.

"You do everything for me, and I'm pretty sure my world would fall apart without you. Now open it."

That only makes my heart race harder and I can't keep away my smile as I open the envelope. Everything seems to fade away when I pull out what's inside. There's no card, just a single slip of paper. When I flip that paper over, I realize that I'm in love with him.

Because it's a round-trip ticket to Kinsale, Ireland. A place I mentioned only once months ago that I've always wanted to go to.

I look up at him, my eyes wide and already filling with tears that I refuse to let go.

"How did you know?" I breathe.

"You said it was one of your dreams to go, and it's hard to forget when you speak about something so passionately." Bucky's reply softer than I've ever heard him be.

I've seen him kill people, torture criminals, and threaten politicians. I've seen him command his mob and rule with certainty and ruthlessness. And yet here he is, giving me one of my dreams because I mentioned it once.

I love him. I know it then, and I don't think I'll ever escape it. I've loved before, but never has it felt like this. This is encompassing and devouring and scary. It's real and deep and world-shifting. How much in love I realize I am with him is the kind of love I never thought I'd get. And yet...

I know it's unprofessional, but I can't stop from stepping forward and getting on my tip toes to wrap my arms around his neck in a sudden hug. He freezes, and for a moment I wonder how long it's been since he's been hugged. Bucky gives in almost instantly and wraps his strong arms around my torso, tugging me closer to him. I decide in this moment that this is my favorite place to be. Kinsale might have been one of my dream places, but this, in his arms, has just as quickly topped the list.

All too quickly I realize the intimacy of this position and pull away, no matter how much it leaves me feeling cold and alone.

"Thank you," I whisper, clearing my throat and taking a step back, "No one's ever done anything like this for me before."

Bucky just stares at me with that all-encompassing gaze.

"Then they're all idiots," he murmurs, and my traitorous heart surges again.

This man is my boss. He's the most powerful person in this city and the last thing he'll do is care about someone as powerless as me. And yet...and yet, and yet, and yet. I can't stop.

|||

Eleven months later.

Eleven months later and I'm still just as totally screwed.

I can't stop the feelings that bubble through me, that take me over and encompass everything I am and hoped I could escape. I tried convincing myself he was nothing, tried to fall for someone else, anyone else, but I can't.

James Bucky Barnes is intoxicating in the most wonderful and awful way. And I can't quit him.

That's why I'm here at Angel's Fall, the bar every corporate associate and beat cop or detective in our slice of town finds themselves at after work. I haven't been in a while, not much liking the smell or taste of alcohol, but after spending nearly ten straight hours with Bucky that serve as a reminder that I'll never have him, I needed to take the edge off.

"Anything else I can get for you, babes?" The bartender asks as she takes a stop in front of me, giving me a friendly smile. I return the gesture and let out a long sigh, finishing out the last of my whiskey sour.

"Scotch, straight," I request, giving her a tired smile, "Thanks."

"Sure thing," she replies, instantly beginning to make my drink, "You seem like you've had a long day."

I scoff, running a hand through the hair that I freed from my low bun, "Long few months."

"That bad, huh? Well I'll keep these going till you say when, sweetie," she replies, sliding my drink to me. I give her another quiet thanks before she leaves to her job.

"Y/N? Y/N is that you?"

I furrow my brows, not putting the voice to a face. I turn towards the sound of the man to find him standing beside me. Once my eyes land on his features, my entire being runs cold. Instantly what little alcohol I had in my system sobers out and my blood freezes in my veins. It's as if I've been dunked in ice water and I find it hard to draw in breath.

"Ian. It's been ages" I comment, my voice thankfully not trembling like I expected it to be. Ian laughs before me, leaning on the bar and drinking me in with his eyes. I squirm under his gaze, which only serves to make me uncomfortable.

"Damn right," he comments, smirking at me lazily with that smile that wrecked my life nearly three years ago, "I've missed you, baby."

I bristle at the nickname, my heart flinching even if my body doesn't. I know he's probably missed me, I had to move to a new state to escape him the first time. I thought I'd done good, too. I'd gotten settled here for a while and then worked my way up to a job at Bucky's company. The past almost two years in Bucky's business have been so good for me that I almost forgot my life before it, the reason why I was so ready to take on the life of organized crime.

The reason stands before me, proof that our demons never die. They just hide away until we're vulnerable again.

"What are you doing in New York?" I ask, trying to make polite small talk and avoid the obvious elephant in the room.

The elephant being that the last time I saw him, I smashed a lamp over his head before I scrambled out of his apartment and to the nearest cab that whisked me far far away, leaving behind all of my belongings except for a wad of twenties and my cellphone.

"I got a transfer to a firm a few blocks from here not too long ago. God, you look great Y/N," Ian averts. He says my name again, almost as if he can't believe I'm standing before him. I nod, wringing my wrists and shoving my forgotten drink away from me.

"That's great, Ian." I keep it simple, knowing that if I talk too much I'll lose myself again. I spend my mental energy searching the thickening crowd of people for a way out. I even consider signaling the bartender that I need an escape.

I'm barred from my thoughts when his hand, a hand I'll never forget, skims over my arm. I jerk my attention back to him, ripping my arm away from him as fast as I can and taking a step back.

"Woah, calm down baby. No need to be so jumpy" Ian placates, that same easy, manipulative smile that would bring me crawling right back to him every time stretching across his features. It makes my blood turn to ice and my stomach roil.

"Do not touch me," I command, surprised at the strength in my tone. It's a strength I didn't have before I got this job, "You lost that right long ago."

Ian's shock is not easily hidden. He realizes in that instant that I'm not the same girl I was three years ago when he broke me and used me and ruled my emotions. I've grown and gotten stronger because someone saw the potential in me to handle power with ease, to be a part of something bigger and stronger than anything I'd been in before. It may shatter me to be around Bucky every day, but he still saved my life in ways he'll never know.

I used to see the world as good and evil, black and white. Now, after my work in the mafia, I know it's gray. There's evil in the good and good in the evil. No one is ever truly both, and sometimes the ones you think are the villains are truly the heroes.

"I-" Ian cuts himself off with a surprised laugh, his eyes incredulous upon me, "I'm sorry, when did you convince yourself of that lie?"

"What lie?" I grit out, and I almost slap myself for indulging him. I'm quickly unhinging, though, and I know that if I stay in this conversation much longer I'll break back into a remnant of who I was. I try to swallow my bile at the thought. I refuse to do that.

"The lie that you're strong. The lie that you can survive in your own, the lie that you'll be anything or anyone without me," Ian seethes, his words sickly sweet like unsuspecting poison. His words cut me so deep that I almost shatter right there as old wounds I thought had scarred over rip open. Instead, I remind myself of the strength and control I've garnered these last two years working for Bucky Barnes.

And then I slap my ex so hard across the face that my hand stings.

"I am not some helpless little girl that's still in love with you," I grit out, my tone sharper than I've ever heard it before, "You broke me once, you are not going to do it again."

His shocked eyes are so wide upon me that I almost don't register his hand raising to strike me back until my head whips hard to the side and pain explodes across my cheek. When I snap my gaze back to him, my eyes brimming with tears of rage and instability, I see him open his mouth to say something. His words don't make it out.

Not before the crowd of patrons splits and a hand closes around Ian's throat so fast and with such force that his back is slammed into the bar.

Oh, I must've forgotten to mention this before. The Angel's Fall is one of the bars the White Wolf owns.

And here the wolf is himself.

I'm so shocked by Bucky's sudden intrusion that I'm left speechless as his grip tightens on Ian's throat and he brings his face that's flooded with an icy rage close to Ian's clearly terrified one. No one lifts a finger to protest or stop my boss, because they all know who this place belongs to.

"You touch her again and I'll kill you," Bucky growls lowly, and Ian is smart enough to believe him as he nods quickly.

Something warm and bright twists in my chest at his words, even when I know any normal person would be screaming or calling the cops. I've never seen Bucky like this before, not about me at least. About his business, sure. But not me.

"When I let go, you're going to leave this bar and this city," my boss commands, his tone leaving no room for negotiation, "If I ever see you again, I will not hesitate to slit your throat."

Ian whimpers, a sound that I hadn't realized would bring me so much wicked joy, a sound that satisfies the thirst for vengeance that I hadn't even realized I held.

"Now, thank me for my mercy and apologize to Ms. Y/L/N," Bucky orders, his grip loosening enough on Ian's airways to let him gasp out the commanded words.

Once he does, Bucky lets him go. His hand isn't off of Ian's neck for two seconds before my ex-boyfriend is scurrying out of the bar. The noises resume as usual, everyone carrying on as if a man's life was not just threatened. Bucky turns his gaze, still filled with that icy rage, towards me and it softens in a way that melts me.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

I avoid the question completely, hoping he'll forget to inquire about it again.

"Thanks for that," I manage out, ignoring the burning of my now very tender cheek, "I honestly thought I had it under control but then I just had to go and slap him."

"That gives him no right to lay a hand on you," Bucky asserts, taking a step closer to me and running a gentle, calloused hand over my hurt cheek. The simple motion sends electricity surging through my entire body and I somehow feel empty when he clenches his jaw and drops his hand.

"You didn't answer my question. Are you okay?" Bucky asks again, not taking a step back.

My heart is pounding and my body is overrun with so many different emotions that I don't know what to focus on or how to stop it all. I may be looking directly into those steel blue eyes, but I'm miles and years away. Memories of Ian and a version of me I often try to forget flash through my mind and I can't stop them.

"Who said you could parade yourself around like a whore when you are mine?" Ian growls out, making me flinch back and wrap an arm around my torso.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

My head whips to the side with the force of his hand. The sting sets in with the silence for a few moments, suffocating me and drowning me in my own pain. Then I hear him sigh and walk up to me, his hands now gentle as he turns my face up to his.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to do that, can you forgive me?" His words are sweet and his eyes genuinely sad. I look up at him warily and almost pull away when that breathtaking smile tugs onto his lips.

"For me, baby? I promise I'll never lay a hand on you again. I don't deserve you"

"Okay" I whisper, letting him kiss my lips and then the cheek that he'd hit again and again and again and as long as I'd keep forgiving him.

I don't even realize I'm not at the bar anymore until there's a soft click of a door behind me and I register a warm, strong hand encasing my own as Bucky leads me into what looks to be an office in the back of the bar.

I hadn't even realized I'd zoned out. I haven't done that in...in a very long time.

He lets go of my hand only to capture my face in his surprisingly gentle hold. When my eyes meet his, everything seems to quiet in the blue of his irises. Still, my mind is aching to send me back to three years ago, to broken bottles and shattered hearts patched with false kisses and pretty words.

"You're safe," Bucky assures, his face softer than I've ever seen it, "You're safe and you're here. I don't know where you went just now but I need you to come back to me, okay?"

Bucky's soothing voice brings me back to reality and grounds me to the moment until all that's left is this room and him and me.

"That's it, there you go, doll. Stay right here with me," he breathes, making my heart flutter. We stand in silence like that for a few moments that stretch for eternity, with his thumbs running across my cheeks until the consciousness returns to my gaze.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" Bucky asks, taking a step back and pulling his hands from my face. I almost make a noise of protest at the loss of contact, but stop myself. Instead, I just shrug.

"It was nothing, really. Just an ex of mine who doesn't know boundaries," I respond, but I can tell that he doesn't buy a word of it.

Bucky takes a slow step towards me again. This time when I tilt my head up to keep his gaze, something tender and almost tangible crackles in the air between us, tugging and pulling and yanking us together. In the steel of his eyes is a dichotomy of emotions, ranging from a breaking softness to a stifled rage that I don't think is directed at me. It sends shivers racing down my spine.

"Y/N," he starts, and my knees almost turn weak at that one utterance, "I think you're not telling me because you know what I'll do. But I need you to understand something before you leave this room and we go back to our daily routine."

One of his hands hooks under my chin, and his thumb grazes ever so lightly over my lip and so swiftly that I almost think I imagined it.

"I don't care who I have to kill or what I have to do. I will do anything if it means protecting you. Anything." He vows, that rage still lit in his eyes. But when I look closer, it seems to be fueled by something so much deeper, so much richer.

I don't know why the words slip past my lips but it does before my mind can stop them.

"Ian manipulated me for years," my voice is trembling and unsure and so unlike every other time I've spoken with him, "He'd use me as his punching bag and then cry on his knees for me. I was stupid then, I always came crawling back. It wasn't until this job that I learned to stand up for myself."

Bucky's entire body is as rigid as a board and I know that look in his eyes. It's the look that appears when he grows unhinged and closer to losing himself to the rage and carnal violence. His jaw clenches and he seems to compose himself.

"What do you want me to do to him?"

It's a simple question, but in his eyes I can see what Bucky wants to do. I can see it as clear as day and it sets my entire being on fire. I choke up, though, because as much as I want to open my mouth and ask for him to kill him, I can't seem to. He sees my hesitancy and nods, taking a step back from me and adjusting his suit.

"Just let me know, Y/N," Bucky states, sounding more professional again as he turns and heads towards his office door.

A sudden sense of urgency overtakes me and I dart forward, grabbing a gentle but insistent hold of his arm that makes Bucky freeze and turn back to me. His arm is in my grasp and I realize that I'm holding on to it for a sense of stability as I try to get the words out. I think he realizes it too because Bucky lets me hold his arm, his eyes boring into mine and that professionalism dropping for a moment. I open my mouth, but close it again, my entire being trembling as flashes of every horror I endured with Ian overtake me.

"I want him gone," I finally manage out, my voice barely more than a whisper, "Please,"

Bucky's eyes search my face for a moment before a certain softness overtakes his gaze. I can see in his eyes that he knows exactly what I mean, even if I can't say the words out loud. He pulls his arm from my grasp only to take a hold of my hand and bring it to his lips. My heart nearly explodes from my chest when he places a kiss to the top of my hand. My skin is ignited where his lips touched it and I almost can't think straight.

God, I'm so in love him. I love him so much it hurts.

"Done." Bucky vows, his eyes never leaving mine.

Ian's mutilated body turned up in an alleyway the next morning.

|||

Two weeks later

I don't know how everything could have gone so wrong only a few weeks later. It all just happened so fast.

"Yes sir, the catering should arrive about 7:00 pm...yes sir, thank you sir. See you then,"

Once the phone is hung up, I take the pen from behind my ear and check off the catering company from my list of gala preparations. In just a few days, the company is going to be holding its annual Employee and Beneficiary Gala. My last few days have been consumed with making sure it runs seamlessly.

"Excuse me, miss. I have a 3:15 with Mr. Barnes." A man's voice I don't recognize calls out to me.

I look up from my paper, smiling warm at the business man who stands before me. My smile falls slightly when I see that he doesn't seem all too happy at the moment, but I set it aside.

"Yes, Mr..." I pause, looking over at my computer screen and scanning for his name, "Stark?"

"That's me." Mr. Stark responds.

"Alright. I'll let Mr. Barnes know that you're here and you should be right in," I inform, giving the man a polite nod before calling Bucky. While I inform him that his appointment is here, I can't help the uneasiness in my chest at Mr. Stark's grave expression.

"You can go on in," I inform once I get off the phone, giving the man a quick smile before turning back to my work, my entire being crawling for some reason.

The meeting's normal for the first few minutes, but pretty quickly their voices begin to raise.

"You need to be careful, Barnes! Pierce and his men are looking for any in to attack our organization."

Alexander Pierce, that's the boss of Bucky's largest rival—Hydra.

"Trust me, Stark. I am careful and perfectly capable of taking care of my business." Bucky grits back. I lift my hands off my keyboard, my attention slipping to listening to the words.

"No, you're not, you're being reckless. You're getting too close and you know it! She is a weakness!" Stark practically shouts. I hear a sudden screech of chair legs on the floor and a brief silence.

Whatever is said next is too hushed for me to hear, but I'm able to catch the last few words.

"I'll take care of it. You know I will," Bucky says, and the office door opens.

"I know you will, buddy. I just needed to get you there," Stark replies, shaking Bucky's hand before turning and walking past my desk without so much of a glance.

"Have a nice day to you too," I whisper beneath my breath.

"Ms. Y/L/N, my office" Bucky says abruptly from his office. His tone seems...almost cold, unfeeling. And he called me Ms. Y/L/N.

With furrowed brows, I get up and make my way into his office, closing the door behind me per his request. I settle down in one of the chairs before his massive desk, an inexplicable worry washing over me. Nonetheless, I ignore the feeling and carry on as normal. Thinking this to be one of the many previous briefings we've had on the gala, I begin to give him my report.

"The catering company is all set for Saturday as is the decorating committee and half-orchestra. All that's left is to-"

"I'm letting you go." Bucky interrupts suddenly, his voice so nonchalant and his gaze so flippantly down on the papers before him that I almost don't register his words.

As in...he's...firing me?

"I'm...sorry?" I question, to which his jaw clenches tightly.

"You are formerly fired, Ms. Y/L/N. Effective immediately," Bucky clarifies, and it feels as though the floor's been ripped out from underneath me.

I can barely breathe let alone hear over the sudden roaring in my ears. He's firing me, after all this time?

"Bucky, I don't-"

"Sir," he interrupts, finally snapping his gaze up to mine. His tone and glare are so ferocious that I almost think he'll pull a gun on me anytime soon.

That one simple correction makes my heart shatter. He hasn't been 'sir' in I don't even know how long. And the way he's looking at me right now...it's almost like he couldn't loathe anyone more in the moment. Like he doesn't even know me. Like he didn't just kill a man for me.

Like he didn't let me fall in love with him.

Tears burn my eyes as I steel my face and straighten up in the chair, clenching my hands so hard together in my lap that they turn white.

"Sir," the word is bitter on my tongue and I feel sick to my stomach more so than I ever have, "May I ask why?"

"Your work is sloppy and your intentions with my business, both legal and not, are undecipherable. I have decided that the best intention for me and my business is to part ways irrevocably with you, Ms. Y/L/N."

It takes everything within me to not let my mouth drop open in shock. The hurt that flashes through me is so piercing and raw and real that it arrests my chest. I can't...I don't know what I did wrong.

"You're just going to let me walk away," I breathe, my jaw clenched tightly, "With everything I know about you and your mob. You've killed people for less."

His cold, calculating eyes study me for a minute before he leans back in his chair, his features the picture of nonchalance.

"You won't tell anyone. You and I both know I wouldn't hesitate to kill everyone you love and then you." Bucky informs blatantly.

That's when my heart splinters. Because I can see in his eyes that he means every single word. Emotion blocks my throat as I simply stare back at him, no longer working to hide my shock or pain. I nod once and I stand, smoothing out my silk blouse.

"I've lost everyone I love, you're out of luck there."

The lie burns so strongly on my tongue that it nearly makes me physically sick. I say it to make it true, to trick my mind and heart into believing it. I should hate him. I should loathe him with every fiber of my being. But I just...can't.

With tears that I refuse to let fall swimming in my eyes, I stare down at the man who changed my life, who stole my heart and is now breaking it.

"Whatever it is that you've been relentlessly pursuing these past years, whether it's power or money or blood," I whisper, not daring to bring my voice above it for fear that it will shake, "I hope you find it."

Bucky's gaze bores into mine, something unreadable that's nearly akin to conflict flashing through his eyes. Without a word, I turn and leave, stopping only at my desk to grab my things before leaving. Leaving this office, leaving the mob, leaving him.

And as I drive home with silent tears streaking down my cheeks, I can't ignore the gaping, pain-filled hole in my heart. I hadn't realized how much I needed that business, that man. But I have to move on. I have to.

And yet, I have this awful feeling that I'm not going to be able to.

|||

A few days later

It's the day of the gala, and it's all I can do to keep myself composed.

I've been an emotional wreck the last few days, and as much as I've tried to deny it I can't any longer. I'm in love with Barnes, I have been for a while and as bad as I want it to, it's not just going to go away. Losing the job was like losing Bucky, and I hadn't realized how much I leaned on him until he was ripped away.

"Oh come on, you stupid computer," I grumble, shoving my laptop aside as it launches into an update I didn't ask for.

When I woke up today, I decided it was time I start looking for another job. No matter how much it hurts, I have to move on if I have any chance of continuing on with my life. I was job searching when this piece of junk laptop started to reboot.

My attention is glued to my television and the show I have playing while I wait for my laptop to finish the update. I get so engrossed in the show that I almost miss it when the screen goes bright and it turns back on.

"Finally," I breathe, pulling it back to me and typing in my password.

As soon as it opens to my desktop, my laptop begins to pop up a bunch of random windows from my most used apps, just like it usually does whenever it's powered down and back up suddenly. I close them out with mild irritation, but freeze when my spreadsheet window opens up, displaying the spreadsheet I was working on last.

The guest list for the gala.

My heart stutters. I'd done so good all of today avoiding thoughts of the event only for my stupid laptop to bring it to the forefront of my mind. My heart wrenches as I can't stop myself from scrolling briefly through the list of invited guests. Near the end, I notice my name and stifle the sudden rise of emotions that inundate me.

With hasty, almost frantic fingers, I rush to delete my name from the sheet. Before I can erase my name, my eyes catch on four names at the bottom below mine. Strange. My name was the last one added. I know because I edited and set up this spreadsheet and only added myself when I had double and triple checked that everyone had been added.

Maybe Bucky found four more to invite. I try to accept the thought, but my curiosity takes the better of me and I can't stop myself from pulling up the internet on another window and searching up the first of the four names.

Xavier Taft. 34 years old, works for a bouncer service...wait. Criminal record.

My heart stutters again. With events like this, we're always so careful to keep the criminals down to only our own, and I've never seen this man's name in our regiment before. With furrowed brows, I search up the next one.

Lance Salone. Bouncer. Criminal record.

My heart is racing when I search the third.

Amanda Vice. No criminal record.

I frown, my adrenaline seizing a little bit. Maybe I was too hasty, maybe those two were just-

Oh my God.

My entire body freezes when I notice an article underneath Amanda Vice's search. She's a personal assistant, like me. But she works for Pierce Enterprises, the cover business for-

"Hydra," I whisper beneath my breath, feeling as though someone's taken the world and spun it around me.

With trembling fingers, I navigate back to the spreadsheet and look to the fourth name. I don't even need to search it up to know.

Alexander Pierce.

My heart is in my throat as I fly my cursor up to the top of my spreadsheet and check to see the editing history. My eyes scan the hundreds of entries by me until they rest in the last entry, one done by an email I don't recognize.

One I never gave permission to edit the document.

"They hacked it," I piece together aloud. Nothing seems real as I throw my laptop off of me and shoot to my feet, the world still spinning. The two bouncers, obvious muscle with the clear ability to kill.

I know I should hate Bucky, I know that I shouldn't give a damn what will go down tonight at the gala, but I can't stop myself from reaching for my phone and dialing the number I saved to my phone of the weapons dealer Bucky's mob used. The man I spoke with on Bucky's behalf many a times picks up on the third ring.

"Y/N. I haven't heard your voice in so long, how are you?" the dealer, a man by the name Nick Fury, asks.

"Nick, this is going to sound so random but I need to know if there's been any movement from Pierce or his men in the last week or so," I rush out. There's a beat of silence on the other end before Nick speaks again.

"What's this about? I thought Bucky fired you," he points out skeptically. My desperation is taking the better of me and I nearly snap.

"Damn it, Nick I just need to know! Has Hydra done anything unusual lately that you know about? If anyone would know it would be you," I practically beg. He must hear the urgency in my tone because he doesn't question me again.

"I caught word they were hanging around upstate earlier this week, they're not usually over there," Nick announces. I furrow my brows.

"Where upstate?"

"Some place called The Sky Palace. Heard they were there for a good bit of time snooping around before they got booted out," Nick answers, pausing for a moment, "Y/N, what's going on?"

I can barely breathe, let alone work up a response. The phone nearly slips from my limp fingers.

"Y/N, are you-"

"That's where the gala is tonight" I whisper, an aching, yawning sort of sensation ripping in my chest at the sudden realization that slams into me.

They're going to kill him. They're going to kill Bucky Barnes and they're going to make a move on our mob.

"I have to go," I rush out, my voice trembling and my stomach roiling with nausea, "Thank you, Nick"

"Of course."

I end the call, rushing to grab my purse and throw on the first pair of shoes I can find. As I rush out of my apartment and into the streets of New York as the sun sets low behind the buildings, I no longer think about the betrayal or hurt. I don't ruminate that I'm fired or that Bucky doesn't care for me like I do him. All I can think about is that my family isn't safe tonight, and I have to do everything in my power to protect them. All of them.

As I whistle for a taxi, my phone is already pressed to my ear and ringing as it tries by I reach my ex-boss. The call goes unanswered as I sit inside the cab.

"Where to?" The driver asks.

I almost say the venue, but pause. I set up Bucky's schedule for today, he should still be at his mansion upstate getting ready. He always did like to make grand entrances. Even if I'm wrong, it's only a ten minute drive to the venue. I give the driver Bucky's address and dial his number again as the driver speeds off.

"You've reached the voicemail box of-"

"Oh come on!" I groan out, pulling my phone away and ending the call. My heart is racing so fast that I can practically feel it trying to run out of my chest. I feel utterly powerless right now knowing that Bucky could die and I can help. What if I don't make it in time? What if he's already gone?

Tears blur my vision and sudden heart ache seizes my chest at the thought. I shove it all down and keep myself composed as I try his number again, but to no avail. Thankfully, we're pulling up to his mansion now. I pay the driver and rush out, putting in the gate code and sprinting to his front door. I don't even waste time knocking, knowing he's probably in the garage or his room, and dig up the spare key from its hiding spot to let myself in.

"Bucky!" I shout as soon as I'm in, slamming the door behind me.

There's no response.

"Bucky please! Are you here?" I shout again, but the silence rings in my ears.

One quick check of his room shows he's not here and when I sprint into the garage, I see one of his twenty cars missing.

I missed him. He's already gone.

I curse, checking my phone to see that he's running fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, something he never does. Of all days to be more punctual to his own event, tonight was probably the worst. I hesitate for only a moment as I ponder what to do.

"You'll forgive me later," I mutter to myself before I spin on my heels and jog to the key rack by the door. I swipe the first set I find and press the button only to find his brand new, cherry red Tesla lighting up.

If things weren't so dire, I'd squeal in excitement.

I don't waste time with giddiness, though, and sprint to the car. I'm inside and have the engine running in record time. Not one minute later, I'm peeling out of the garage and onto the road with screeching tires. I press the gas pedal nearly all the way to the floor, the engine roaring in my ears as I whip into the traffic.

I have to make it. I have to.

|||

And here we are, all caught up.

I hope you understand now more than you did before why I'm so desperate to get to Bucky in time. I hadn't realized it fully in the moment before, but now that I just might lose him, I know that he's everything to me. I wouldn't be half the woman I am without him and his constant assurance that I was strong and skilled and perfectly able to stand up for myself.

I can't lose him, not when he's so much more than a boss to me. So much more.

I cut the ten minute drive to the gala down to four. My headlights cut thought the pitch black night as I swerve up to The Sky Palace that's teeming with cars and richly dressed guests. The Tesla screeches as I grind to a halt before a group of gasping patrons and a wide-eyed valet.

His eyes grow wider when he sees me step out of it in a pair of jeans and a hoodie.

"Don't scratch this car if you want to live," I advise as I toss the young valet the keys. He must think I'm joking because his gaze flashes with humor.

He doesn't realize I'm being dead serious.

I don't care a modicum about the horrified, disgusted looks I'm getting from the elite who are still making their way to the Palace's entrance nor do I care about their cries as I break into a sprint and shove past them all.

I can't let him die, I can't let Pierce hurt my family. I can't.

I only stop running when I reach the two men guarding the front entrance with iPads to check in guests. I know them both, since both happen to be members of Bucky's mob. Their eyebrows furrow once they see me approaching them.

"Y/N?" One asks, his eyes nearly popping from his head, "Boss won't like it that you're here."

"Let me in, Sam," I order, my chest heaving with breath, "He's in danger, you're all in danger."

The two men's eyes widen and they share a look for a moment before glancing back to me.

"Y/N," the other begins, but the panic is getting too much and I cut him off.

"Listen, you're all in trouble. The business is in danger of being thrown into chaos, and your boss-" my voice cuts off with sudden emotion, tears swimming in my gaze, "Your boss is going to die if you don't let me in right now."

They only hesitate a moment longer before they step aside. Relief like I've never known it crashes through me. Just before I walk in, though, Sam catches my arm.

"I don't know what the hell's going on, but we're already falling apart without you. We...he needs you, Y/N," Sam whispers.

My heart tugs painfully in my chest and that same hole opens again. I miss them all, I miss the mob and the meetings where we'd all mess around like kids. I miss Bucky.

And with that last thought, I give Sam a nod before turning and jogging into the Palace.

Classical music wafts into the air, broken up only by soft chatter, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. The gala is classy and elegant and beautifully well-done, but I don't take time to admire any of that. Instead, I race through the room in search of Bucky.

I receive more than one disgusted glare and scoff at my apparel and messy, unkempt hair. I don't give one damn as I try to blend in as much as possible to not alert Pierce or his men while searching for Bucky.

I stop when I reach the grand staircase that leads to an upper balcony, taking the advantage of the steps and climbing a few to see the room from a birds eye view. It only takes me a few seconds to spot Bucky near the center of the room. My heart squeezes in my chest and I almost sob in relief to see him alive and safe. Just before I move to rush down the stairs and towards him, I hear a click from the top of the stair case.

I whip my gaze up in time to see one of the two bouncers from the list, Xavier Taft, begin setting up a sniper rifle atop the dimly lit balcony that no one but him stands atop.

My heart stops. Time freezes. My stomach hits the floor and all I can think about is that I can't lose him.

"No," I breathe, snapping my gaze down to see the gun trained on Bucky.

When I look at him, I see Sam at his side and speaking in rushed tones, probably about me. Knowing I don't have many options left, my mind works in overdrive to figure out the best way possible to do this. I need to cause a distraction, one to catch Xavier's attention long enough for me to finish climbing the stairs and get that gun away from him. At the same time, though, I need Bucky to see it happen, I need him to know his life is in danger so Lance Salone, the other bouncer, doesn't surprise attack him.

Bucky's just snapped his head towards Sam, his brows furrowed and his jaw tight when I make my move, my nerves humming.

"BUCKY LOOK OUT!" I shout, my voice piercing and carrying out over the room. Instantly, Bucky's head snaps up to where I am on the stairs and his entire body goes rigid.

I don't waste time watching him any longer and begin to sprint up the last of the stairs and towards Xavier who curses. He wasn't ready to shoot yet, I timed it perfectly. Beneath me, Bucky sees the gun trained at him and he sees Xavier, who now has his gaze on me. Bucky's entire body changes again into a mode of desperation, but I don't see it. I'm focused on closing the distance between me and the gun that's almost ready.

"Y/N!" Bucky roars, but I'm barely listening over the chaos in my brain.

"Bitch!" Xavier growls, cocking the rifle hastily and wrapping his finger around the trigger. He's too late, because I finish bounding up the stairs and crash into him, knocking him off of his feet and shoving the gun off balance enough so that the bullet he intended for Bucky slams into the roof instead.

Xavier's body slams into the marble tile as I tackle him, but he quickly overpowers me, flipping us over so I'm beneath him. Below us, I can hear screaming and glass shattering, but above the panic I swear I can hear a voice bellowing my name.

I scramble out from underneath Xavier before he can pin me, shooting to my feet and sprinting to the sniper rifle still sitting on the balcony. Just as I hear Xavier get up behind me, I knock the rifle over and send it careening down into the panicking crowd.

"I'll kill you for that!" I hear Xavier spit from behind me, and I whirl just in time to see him throwing a fist at me.

Time suddenly slows, and it's like I'm back in the office that day ages ago where Bucky tried to teach me self-defense. My body remembers the way he grounded me from my punch before my mind does, and I snap back to reality just in time to dodge Xavier's punch. Just like Bucky did to me then, I hook my leg around his and use his momentum to shove him to ground. I crash down on top of him and practically feel the slam of his head into the marble below him.

"Y/N!"

My entire body jumps at Bucky's voice, now close to me. I snap my head around to see him bounding up the stairs, blood splattered across his tuxedo as if he killed a man himself down there during the chaos. I almost sob in relief. He's okay. I melt beneath his gaze that bores down into me as he stoops down to reach out to me.

His hand is inches from me when his eyes snap up to something behind me and horror flashes through his face a millisecond before a hand wraps around my waist and wrenches me to my feet and away from Xavier's unconscious body. I gasp, and the world suddenly goes very still and very quiet as the cool of a gun presses underneath my chin, forcing it up slightly. My stomach hits the floor and I hardly find it in me to breathe.

Bucky stands ever so slowly in front of me, his jaw clenched and his eyes spelling murder.

"Leave her alone, Pierce," Bucky orders, and sudden fear clamps over me.

Alexander Pierce has me at gun point.

"Why? I'm actually quite taken with your girl," Pierce responds, tightening his hold on my waist. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment at the disgust and fear rolling through me before looking back at Bucky. He catches my slight movement and his fury heightens.

"Pierce, I swear to God if you kill her I will skin you alive," Bucky growls.

"See, now we're getting somewhere," Alexander announces, but I can hear the annoyance in his voice. This isn't what he wanted to happen, "What are you willing to give for her life?"

Immediate tears spring to my eyes and I meet Bucky's gaze again.

"No," I beg immediately, not daring to shake my head because of the gun beneath it, "Let me die. I'd rather die."

Bucky works hard to keep the cold exterior upon his face, but I can see between the cracks that he's...he's terrified.

It's only when Alexander moves his arm that restrains me to cover my mouth that I realize my slim window of opportunity. Without thinking, I slam my free hands into the gun that Pierce holds to the underside of my chin hard enough that it knocks his hand away. His hold loosens in sudden shock and I rip away at the same moment that Bucky darts forward and grabs ahold of me, ripping me to him and immediately crushing me into his side for protection as he rips out his own guns and shoots before Pierce can even recover.

The bullet finds its target perfectly, right between his eyes, and it's over.

My entire body is trembling so violently that I cling to Bucky, scared that my knees will give way from the adrenaline. I've never been in a situation like that before, never been so close to death. Bucky drops the gun from his hold and switches his full attention to me, probably realizing just how pale I've turned and how badly I'm shaking.

Keeping one arm secured around my waist, he runs the other through my hair, his steel blue eyes taking in every feature of mine.

"You saved my life," Bucky murmurs, his hold on me so tight in the most protective sort of way, almost as if he's just as terrified as me, "Even after I fired and threatened you."

I shake my head, tears of relief pooling in my eyes.

"I couldn't let you die."

Bucky's jaw clenches and before he can react I throw my hands around his neck, hugging him close to me. He reacts instantly, wrapping both massive arms around my waist and pulling me close to him, holding me tighter than I ever have been.

"Don't ever do that again, doll," Bucky mumbles into my hair, clenching my hoodie in his fists, "Don't be willing to die for me. I don't deserve it."

I don't know why tears are gathering in my eyes but I find I can't blink them away. I only tighten my grip, nuzzling my head into his neck.

"I don't think I can promise that," I breathe, and my next words come out before I can even stop them, "You'll always be deserving."

Bucky pulls away so fast that my heart lurches into my throat. His eyes examine mine so frantically, so dangerously, so desperately as he holds me out from him. His chest is heaving, almost as bad as mine.

"I did it to protect you, you have to know that. Everything that happened before, it was all to keep them away from you," Bucky swears, and my heart stutters at the look in his eyes, as if the police and ambulance sirens filling the air alongside the shouting don't exist.

"Why?" I breathe, hoping on everything he'll say what I think he will. Bucky brings a hand to cup my cheek, shaking his head at me with something almost close to tears in his eyes.

"You're my only weakness, Y/N, and they know it. Everyone knows it," Bucky murmurs and I swear I stop breathing, "If it came to you or the world I'd pick you every time."

My chest is so tightly constricted that I can hardly draw in any breaths. My chest is moving just as fast as his and butterflies are pressing into my stomach in anticipation for whatever is thick in the air between us.

"Don't ever fire me again," I order, and a low chuckle leaves his lips. My humor drains in a second though, and suddenly it's hard to speak without my voice trembling, "I don't think I'll survive it."

Something breaks in his gaze, softens it and turns it so tender and passionate that my skin tingles. He brings his other hand to cup my face to, so I feel completely under his control.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" He asks carefully, his eyes searching mine, "This life will never slow down. Someone will always want to take you from me."

"I'm sure," I whisper, not even hesitating.

His lips are on mine before the words are even fully out of my mouth. My heart leaps out of my chest as I melt into him, pulling him closer as our lips move in perfect harmony. My entire body feels like liquid and lightning all at once and he's the only thing left in the world. One of his hands finds their way into my hair, leaving me completely at his mercy. When he finally pulls back, he leaves a breath of a kiss on my nose and then my forehead before tilting my chin up to meet his gaze.

"You've been more to me for a long time now, doll" Bucky breathes, and a shiver rushes down my spine. He's so beautiful. A smile twitches onto my lips as I caress his stubble-covered cheek.

"I think how I feel is pretty obvious, considering I did tackle a fully grown man for you," I remark, and a surprised laugh rumbles out of him. The sound nearly turns me weak.

"And it was probably the scariest and hottest thing you've ever done," Bucky assures. This time I laugh and kiss him again, but we're both more serious after it.

"This life may not be safe," he begins, his thumb running over my lip, "But you always will be. As long as I'm here, you'll always be safe."

"I love you, Bucky" I whisper, my words a promise. He freezes, something new and bright flashing through his gaze. I don't think he's ever heard those words before.

"I've always loved you, and I always will," he swears, and for a moment my life is completely and totally content.

It doesn't matter what's happening around us, it doesn't even matter that I nearly died a few times in one day. With Bucky by my side, I feel invincible, I feel strong and capable.

"I don't think I can be your secretary any more," I whisper, and his smile is back, turning my insides to butterflies.

"No, I've got a better idea," he smirks, kissing me quickly.

The next day, Bucky would introduce me to the mob as his equal partner.

The King and Queen of crime.

And it would stay like that for the rest of our time.

I don't know when exactly Bucky Barnes became more than my boss, maybe it was always. Maybe I should have known I was in trouble from the beginning, but it's the best kind of trouble. So, if you ever get the chance to do something a little crazy, maybe something you never thought you would, but it just feels right, then you need to do it.

You never know who will become more to you in the process.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #angst #oneshot #au #bucky oneshot #bucky x reader #bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky oneshot #mob!bucky #mob bucky barnes #mafia!bucky x reader #mafia au #mafia bucky #mafia!bucky #fluff #avengers #bucky barnes angst

5K notes · View notes

idy-ll-ique · 1 year

Text

mr grumpy man

pairing: mob boss!bucky barnes x f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

warnings: smut, mentions of abuse and wounds, adultery

requested: nope

word count: ~4.3k

summary: bucky kidnaps y/n because her husband owes him money. what happens when he finds out her husband is abusive?

author's note: hi guys! i crossed 1450 followers today, plus my masterlist is about to reach 1000 notes, and ngl i'm kinda excited for that, so i wanted to post. i have been writing fanfiction even though i stopped posting weekly (it's a great stress reliever). so yeah... enjoy! (also lmk if you want me to write and post a part 2, since the ending to this imo feels kind of incomplete) also ik i am reusing names but go with it, it's difficult to come up with names :(

masterlist

The sound of her gasp echoed around the garage as the blindfold was lifted off her eyes. Y/N blinked in the dim light, her hand trying to reach up to soothe her aching head, but— She struggled to free her tied hands, to no avail. Finally collapsing against the chair, she looked around the room as her eyes adjusted to the lights. Or the lack thereof.

A bunch of men stood ahead of her. In the centre was a tall, brunet man, his blue eyes glistening with… mirth. He seemed happy, even though his face didn’t betray an emotion. “S-Sir… Who…” Y/N choked out, thanking the Gods that her mouth was still usable. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re awake,” the man crooned, walking up to her. She peered up at him, a little scared and a lot confused.

Bucky blinked at her. Why… Why was she looking at him like that? There wasn’t an ounce of fear he could see on her face, just— perplexion. “Mrs Silverstein,” he began. “Yeah?” He internally heaved a sigh of relief. At least he had the right person. But then why wasn’t she scared? Surely, being married to a mob boss meant she knew the danger mob bosses posed. “I’m James Barnes.” Y/N cocked her head to the side. “M-Mr Barnes, have you— kidnapped me?”

“If you know that, why aren’t you scared?!” Bucky burst out impatiently. This woman was starting to get on his nerves with her nonchalance. “...ooh, ah, save me…” Y/N mumbled a couple seconds later, pursing her lips to keep herself from smiling. She never thought she would be, but here she was now! Kidnapped! Meaning, away from her husband! Bucky growled in annoyance. “Are you fucking mocking me or something?”

She hurriedly shook her head, lowering it in shame. “Sorry.” He huffed. “Your husband—” Y/N nearly flinched at the mention. “—has stolen a huge sum of money from me. So now, my dear, you’re going to live with me until he returns the money.” Bucky wasn’t a monster. As annoyed as the woman was making him, he had no intentions of hurting her. He simply wanted to lure Edmund, her husband, to him by using Y/N as bait.

“Wait, seriously?” Y/N realised she might have come off a little excited because Bucky raised an eyebrow at her, his men exchanging glances in shock. “You’re— happy about that?” Bucky asked, bewildered. “No I’m not,” she muttered, clearly lying. Bucky shook his head, deciding to let it go. Surely she was so… scared and traumatised that she was acting bizarrely. It had to be that. “Okay… um, untie her, I’m taking her to her room.”

Two of his men stepped forward and untied her hands and legs. Bucky expected her to kick and scream upon being untied but instead, she simply stood up, dusting her clothes. “My room, sir?” Bucky stammered incoherently. “Uh, sure,” he ended up mumbling, leading her into the mansion whose garage they were in. He kept alert; maybe once away from the guards she would act up. “Intelligent,” he thought.

But even when they were away from all the guards, just the two of them, Y/N kept demurely following him, looking up at the mansion. “Wow,” she whistled, “This is your house? It’s pretty solid, dude.” Bucky stopped in his tracks, turning to face her. “Okay, what stupid fucking game are you playing with me right now?! You really think I’m that dumb, Mrs Silverstein? You think I don’t know what you’re doing?! Playing nice until you get a chance to run back to your husband?!”

This time, she did end up flinching at Edmund’s mention. Bucky noticed and paused, his brows furrowing in suspicion. “I don’t— I’m not playing any games. Look—” She rummaged through all her clothing. “I don’t have any weapons on me and plus my hands are recovering from injuries, so I’m not even strong enough to kill someone like you. Have you looked at yourself? You think I will be able to hurt you?” Bucky released a breath.

An awkward silence fell between them. “What are your hands recovering from?” he finally ended up asking as they commenced their walk. “Broke my bones in both hands, just a little accident, heh,” Y/N chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. A few more minutes passed. He glanced at her. She was looking at the decoration around the house, lips pursed, as if she was about to burst into tears.

And without thinking, he asked the one question a kidnapper never asks their victim.

“Are you okay?”

A teardrop leaked down Y/N’s eye and she hurriedly wiped it off, clearing her throat. “Yeah.” What the fuck was her deal? They soon stopped outside a bedroom; Bucky opened the door, revealing— “This is the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen!” Y/N gasped, awed. The colour scheme was pretty, there was an attached bathroom and also a balcony! "This makes my architect heart really happy."

"You're an architect?" Bucky couldn't help but ask again. "I was, before I got married. Edmund didn't like that I worked, he then started keeping me at home," she revealed. Bucky found himself getting annoyed again but this time not by Y/N, by Edmund. "Well, uh, you've seen everything. Spare clothes are in the wardrobe, um, the shower has clean water if you want to clean up… there's facewash and body wash in the bathroom and also toothpaste and a toothbrush."

"Aren't you, like, my kidnapper? Why such nice treatment?" Y/N wondered. "I have no personal vendetta against you, I'm after your husband. And I'm using you as bait. So don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. That's how my mob functions." A smile bloomed on her face. "That's a nice way to function. Uh, I'll see you then, Mr Barnes." Bucky licked his dry lips. "Yeah, s-see you."

He left her room, closing the door behind him. But he simply stood there, his thoughts racing. The way she wasn't upset that she was kidnapped, the way she flinched earlier when he mentioned her husband, and how sad she looked when she told him her husband didn't allow her to work after they got married. All the proof was there— She disliked him. Y/N disliked Edmund. But was there more to it?

Was she only upset about her job, or maybe something more? Bucky shook his head, heading to his own room. Now that he knew, her previous behaviour didn't seem so… annoying anymore.

The next morning, Bucky woke up with Y/N on his mind. Immediately upon getting out of bed, he rushed to Y/N's room, pausing before knocking. When she didn't open the door, his nose scrunched and he pushed the door open, freezing when he saw her naked in the middle of the room, a pair of his shorts in her hands. The spare clothes he'd given her. Y/N froze as well, the water from her wet hair dripping on the floor. She had just finished taking a shower. 5 uncomfortable minutes later, both of them snapped out of it.

Bucky was staring at her body. "My men didn't raise a finger on you," he whispered as she hurriedly covered herself with her towel. "Mr Barnes—" He entered the room, slamming the door shut behind him as he closed the distance between them. "I told them not to. Then what is this?" Her body was covered in scars big and small, and also healing bruises. Some that looked an angry red, some black and blue, while the almost healed ones looked yellow-green.

Her arms, her legs, her torso… except her face. Every body part was injured. "Y-Your men didn't do it," Y/N quietly assured him, avoiding eye contact. Bucky's chest heaved with anger. "Then who?" Y/N gulped in fear. "E-Edmund did." Bucky was hoping it wouldn't be the answer. "I fucking knew it," he growled, "I suspected it last night—" He stopped when Y/N touched his arm. "L-Let me get ready?" He left the room on her insistence.

Blood boiling, he stormed into the dining room, startling the housekeeping staff as he sat on a chair, glaring at the innocent table in front of him. He didn't think Edmund would be able to anger him more than when he stole Bucky’s money but apparently knowing that he abused his wife too did the trick. Maybe it was the way Edmund’s behaviour reminded him of his own father— that was a can of worms for another day.

He turned towards the door when he heard footsteps behind him. Y/N had just walked in, wearing a grey t-shirt that was too big on her as well the pair of shorts he’d seen previously. She silently sat in front of him, her head hanging low. “The broken bones, that was him, no?” A beat passed and she nodded. Bucky was so furious now he couldn’t speak; they ended up having breakfast without speaking to one another. Afterwards, Bucky sent Y/N back to her room.

The hours began passing. When Y/N noticed that the sun was about to set, her stomach hungrily growling being the thing that snapped her out of her trance, she wondered if she would be let out of the room and given some food. Turns out she didn’t have to wait for an answer— just as the thought passed through her head, the door opened and Bucky walked in, tongue in cheek.

“I’m back home.” Y/N didn’t know he’d left. “Did you… did you have lunch? I forgot to remind the housekeeping staff to give you lunch.” She shook her head no. “I’ve been here the whole day.” His face showed… remorse? An apologetic look crossed his face. “C-Come downstairs to eat something now.” Without a complaint, she got off the bed and followed him towards the dining room. On the dining table was a big plate of cut-up fruits.

Bucky beckoned her to have the first bite. Like in the morning, they sat quiet, until Bucky spoke first. “I called… Edmund today.” Her gaze lifted from the fruits to his face. “What did he say?” she whispered, somewhat dreading the answer. “I asked for a huge ransom, basically something along the lines of what he stole from me. He said… It'll take time. He also threatened me.” This time a chuckle escaped his lips. “If you do anything to my wife, I swear,” he mimicked, causing Y/N to laugh as well.

“Bold coming from him,” she sighed, a tiny smile showing on her face. The mood dimmed again— as “fun” as the conversation was, they weren’t… friends. Y/N was still his victim, Bucky still her kidnapper. There were boundaries they knew they couldn’t cross. But still, there was something…

After finishing the fruit, Bucky took her back to her room. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he cleared his throat, poking his tongue in his cheek again. Y/N pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, clasping her hands as she swayed back and forth on her toes and heels. She was about to speak when Bucky began walking away, thinking the conversation was done.

She only stared after him.

The days began passing quicker. In what felt like a mere minute, a week passed since Y/N's kidnapping. There was still no sign of Edmund, and Bucky was getting impatient. Impatient not because of money, impatient because Y/N was growing on him. He’d started finding her and her mannerisms tolerable and dare he say it— cute. He had started finding her adorable.

Her hair, her eyes, her nose, her lips, her figure— the figure he’d seen all of before. Y/N was pretty, no doubt, but Bucky mentally hit himself with an imaginary stick every time she was around. He couldn’t possibly think his victim, another man’s wife, was beautiful. But there was no doubt about the fact. Bucky was steadily falling.

Unbeknownst to him, so was she. As little time as they spent with each other, Y/N found herself eagerly awaiting the next time she could see him. She found herself admiring his looks when he wasn’t looking. His steely blue eyes, his long brown hair, his stubble, his physique— the upper part of which she had managed to catch a glimpse of one time— him. She admired him.

Not to mention the fact he treated her way, way better than Edmund ever did. Always gave her food and water, checked on her from time to time, and gave her good living conditions. This was much less a kidnapping and much more a vacation of sorts. The only difference being? While Bucky actively hated himself for falling for her, Y/N didn’t mind in the slightest.

If anything, she had subconsciously begun to pamper herself, as well as she could, so Bucky would notice. He gave her a reason to distance her thoughts from her husband; when they got married, and when the abuse began, she used to think no one else could like her, and the fact that Edmund was still willing to keep her as his wife— she should accept that. But the previous week, she hardly ever thought of him.

She was staring out the window of her room when there was a knock on her door. Her hands flew up to flatten her hair as the door opened. Like she hoped, Bucky stood on the other side, wearing a black tank top and grey sweatpants. She blinked owlishly at him. “Come with me.” Y/N hurriedly got off the bed and waddled behind him. To her surprise, he began leading her out of the mansion.

Y/N hadn’t been out of the house since the first night. Dread filled her mind— was Edmund here to pick her up? Instinctively she stopped in her tracks, her eyes filling with tears as she grabbed Bucky’s arm, stopping him as well. He whirled around, startled to see her crying. “Wh-What happened, why are you crying?” A choked sob escaped her lips as she shook her head.

“He’s here, isn’t he? P-Please don’t hand me over to him, please,” she croaked. Before Bucky could speak she piped up again. “Just kill me— I b-beg, Mr Barnes, please!” Another sob left her lips and Bucky felt his resolve breaking. Somehow freeing his arm from her grasp, he walked towards her and hugged her tight, holding her close to his chest. “Shh,” he whispered, rubbing her back.

Y/N slowly stopped crying, her fists clutching the back of his tank top. Bucky rested his chin on her head, one arm wrapped tight around her waist as the other continued to rub her back, helping to even out her breathing. His resolve cracked fully— no, Edmund was not getting her back. “He’s not here,” he assured her quietly, “I promise.” She finally calmed down.

“Then where are you taking me?” The way her voice had become so tiny suddenly… Bucky wanted to hit himself for unnecessarily scaring her. “For a walk. I-I thought we— I mean you, should take a walk in the garden for some… fresh air. And I’ll come along… to keep an eye on you,” he stammered. A second passed and she nodded. “I’d like that.” He internally heaved a sigh of relief and they began walking to the mansion’s garden again— this time holding hands.

Y/N was so shaken up and frightened that she refused to let go of Bucky’s hand. Each time he tried pulling away, she whined and held his hand tighter. “Y/N.” Hearing his stern tone, she reluctantly let go of his hand, only to be surprised as he draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him. They fell quiet. After spending an hour outside, Bucky noticed it was dinnertime.

They had dinner. And then it was time for Y/N to go to her room again. Try as she might to fall asleep, she couldn’t. Each time she closed her eyes, Edmund’s face appeared in front of her, scaring her awake. Quivering, Y/N stood up, walking out of the room. She wanted to see Bucky. But she didn’t know where his room was. Sighing in defeat, she slid down in front of the door, sitting with her knees pulled to her chest. The bedroom felt too unsafe.

What she didn’t know was that Bucky wasn’t in his room. He was in the living room, having a glass of whiskey. An hour would pass before he made his way upstairs; since Y/N’s room was nearer to the staircase than his own, he had to pass by in front of her room to go to his. And he was shocked to see her sitting outside, rather than inside. “Y/N?!” She looked up at him, pressing her lips shut to keep herself from crying in front of him again.

Also sighing in defeat and throwing his morals and ethics aside, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. A gasp left her lips as Bucky pinned her against the wall. Her hands were held over her head, Bucky holding her wrists with one hand as the other rested on the wall right next to her waist. “Fuck you for being so adorable and perfect, honestly,” he mirthlessly laughed before pressing his lips to hers in a noisy, wet kiss.

Y/N involuntarily moaned as the kiss got too overwhelming. Bucky, hearing that, grabbed her waist with his free hand and shifted closer to her, grinding his steadily hardening cock against her most sensitive area. “Mmh,” she breathed out. “Liking that, princess?” His hand let go of her wrists to take off the t-shirt she wore. When her breasts came into view, Bucky groaned.

“Ungh, M-Mr Barnes, ah,” she whimpered when he bent forward, taking a nipple between his teeth as his hand toyed with the other one. “Fuck,” he hissed when she rolled her hips against his. Not wasting more time, he knelt in front of her and yanked her shorts down, the cool night air colliding with her wet cunt making her moan. Bucky smirked as he smeared some of her juices around with his fingers.

“So fucking wet for me,” he hummed, grabbing the back of her thighs before burying his face between them, lapping greedily at the juices. His nose rubbed against her clit; Y/N’s fingers curled in his hair, gently pulling him closer. Bucky didn’t even feel like coming up for air. She had the prettiest cunt he’d ever seen, and she tasted sweet, just like her personality. “Bu-Bucky, I’m gonna cum!” When he heard that he finally stopped and looked up at her.

Her face was flushed and her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted as she rested her head against the wall, her chest heaving. That picture drilled itself into his head; he would never forget that look, how ethereal she looked as he made her fall apart on his tongue. “Cum for me, my love, you won’t be doing so for anyone else for a long, long time.” Hearing those words Y/N let go.

Bucky drank everything she offered. It was like an elixir to him. “So gorgeous, so delicious,” he whispered and stood up, holding her by the hips when her knees buckled. That orgasm had been her most powerful yet. Bucky definitely knew what he was doing. “Come.” He gently carried her in his arms bridal style, allowing her to rest as he took her to his room, kicking open the door with his foot.

Y/N passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow, but Bucky suspected she’d fallen asleep earlier than that, in his arms, rather. His cock was throbbing hard; lying down next to her, he lowered his pants and took his length in his hand, leisurely stroking it as he thought of Y/N— the look on her face. No matter if he got or didn’t get the money from Edmund, he wasn’t giving up on Y/N. She was his now, his to care for. His to fall for.

He felt his orgasm coming. With a whisper of her name he let go, spurting hot, white liquid onto his thighs and hand. Bucky then cleaned himself and pulled his sweatpants up over his limp cock, turning on his side to envelope Y/N in his arms. She, still asleep, turned into him too, burying her face in his chest, curling into him.

For the first time since forever, a genuine smile bloomed on his face.

The next morning couldn't arrive sooner. Bucky woke up before Y/N, and when the previous night's memories resurfaced, one more smile tugged on his lips as he turned to look at the woman asleep next to him. Her lips were turned upwards, and he wondered what kind of a dream she was having. "Oh, Bucky," she suddenly whispered, humming as she turned to lay on her back, facing away from him. Bucky didn't contain his chuckle; the noise woke Y/N up and she blinked her eyes open.

"What was I doing in your dream?" he asked her in a whisper as soon as she gained her senses. "We were in a park eating ice-cream together," she sleepily whispered back, accepting his invite to snuggle closer to him. "But you moaned my name," he cheekily pointed out, "So what was I doing exactly?" At that her cheeks heated up. "I— I had some ice-cream on my lips and you—" She couldn't finish her sentence out of embarrassment. Bucky laughed quietly, trying not to ruin the serenity of the morning.

He leaned in and gave her a peck on the corner of her mouth. "I did that?" Squealing a little, she hit his shoulder and buried her face in his chest, hands covering her eyes. By then Bucky was smiling so wide, he thought his mouth was going to tear open. He wrapped his arms tight around her, holding her impossibly close as they simply lay there, basking in the quietness and bliss of the early morning sun's rays coming in through the closed, white curtains of the window.

Alas the bliss didn't last long; Bucky's phone began ringing, snapping them both out of their trance. Bucky reached for the night stand and grimaced when the Caller ID came into view. "Why him?" Y/N groaned as well, wrapping her arms around herself. "Yes, Silverstein? Do you finally have my money ready?" Bucky drawled, his arm snaking around Y/N's waist. "How is my wife? Is she alright? Let me talk to her!" Bucky glanced at Y/N.

"He wants to talk to you," he whispered to her and her eyes went wide. She tried saying no but Bucky had to be convincing one way or another. So she decided to help him.

Taking the phone from his hand, Y/N held it to her ear. "Hello?" She heard Edmund's sighs of relief. Fake. "My love, are you okay? He hasn't hurt you, has he?" If by hurt you mean making me pass out by giving me a strong orgasm then yes, yes he hurt me. Badly. "No he hasn't." Edmund mumbled something on the other end. "Listen, I have the money ready, okay? I'm getting you back, I promise! You're mine, my wife, and I'll never let anyone hurt you."

"Then why are you the one hurting her, asshole?" Bucky muttered to himself, rolling his eyes. Y/N cracked a half-smile at his tone before clearing her throat. "Y-Yeah. So when are you… coming to pick me up?" Bucky snatched the phone from her hand. "I'll be there this evening, my love. I'll assure him that I've come alone, but I will bring some of my men— once I have you back, I'll have them attack him and we'll walk away with the money. You have to play along, hm?"

Bucky smirked. He held the phone away and covered the speakers, turning to Y/N. "Say okay, I'll see you in the evening." She nodded and Bucky gave her the phone. "I'll see you in the evening, okay," she told Edmund, who ended the call. Y/N kept the phone down on her bed, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. "What did he say? He's coming in the evening?" Bucky laughed loudly, startling her.

"That's the thing! He thought he was still talking to you, so he told you this really elaborate plan that I wasn't supposed to hear. And now I'm one step ahead of him." Y/N laughed at his words too. "Really?! That's so awesome! Now you can plan accordingly, and take the money back!"

He tugged on her hand to pull her close. "Take the money and keep you by my side." Y/N's cheeks flushed. "And that," she mumbled shyly. "Well, now that I know he's coming in the evening, there's still plenty of time that we have, you know…" Bucky hinted coyly, making her lie down on the bed and hovering above her, propped up by his arms. Y/N smirked and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him in for a kiss. "Show me what you got, then."

"Oh, trust me princess, I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve, let's see if by the end of it you can even walk."

a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #mob!bucky barnes #mob au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr #appreciation post

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abbatoirablaze · 5 months

Text

Delivered, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, minor manipulation, minor domination, dubcon/noncon relationship.

Part 3 of 3.

Part 1, Signed

Part 2, Sealed

“If there is any reason that anyone here should find that these two should not be joined today in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace!”

You looked at the congregation through your thick veil, and it was like a room full of crickets. No one so much as even moved an inch. Your heart thudded heavily in your chest as your eyes searched, prayed for someone to stand.

Your eyes snapped to Steve’s and you could see him grinning ear to ear as the priest continued, “Steven and (Y/N), you are now joined in holy matrimony. I present you as Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. Steven, you may kiss your bride.”

Steve was quick to raise your veil and sweep you into his arms and an even more intense, searing kiss. One that instinctively had your eyes closing and your toes curling. The passion both turned you on and made you sick.

While you wanted to hate him for it, it was like your mind went blank and you allowed yourself to lean into it. You had hated him as children, but ever since the other night, there was something in you that made you drawn to him.

As your thoughts wandered to how he went from the sickly child who could have been knocked over by wind that was too strong, to how he was nothing but one hundred percent man, you felt his hand slip a little lower from your waist to your ass as he spun you and pulled you back to his chest. His fingers kneaded you through the fabric and he gave you a devious grin as your hands went up to tangle in his hair, he pulled away from you.

You gave him an owlish look while the congregation made up of your family and friends cheered for your union, all of them unaware of the fact that you knew what he was going to do in just a few hours time.

“I’ve got so many plans for us!” he promised as he turned the two of you towards the congregation. Steve raised your hand in his before pulling you towards the aisles so that the two of you could go to the reception.

You moaned as your husband’s cock kissed your cervix again and again. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as your mouth fell open in a silent moan and your back arched away from the wall, he had you pressed into.

His panting was heavy, the warmth of his breath fanning heavily over your neck as he pressed open mouth kisses along the column of your throat, “Casso, principessa. Sei cosi stretto. La tua figa mi sta soffocando il cazzo.” (Fuck, princess. Your pussy is choking my cock.)

“S-steve!” you whimpered, your nails digging into the fabric that covered his shoulders, “St-Steve. Steve!”

“Giusto. Gemi il mio nome!” (That’s right. Moan my name.)

“I-I don’t-oh god!” you moaned as you tried to stave off your orgasm, “Steve-we-FUCK!”

You sobbed against your orgasm as it came crashing over you all over again. His thick length driving so deep into you that you could feel him in your stomach.

He pulled away just enough for his lips to messily catch yours.

It was a battle of tongues and teeth as you tugged on his bottom lip with yours, needing to be dominative over something.

He growled, his hips bucking deep inside of you. Your core shuddered violently around his cock, and you let go of his plump bottom lip, moaning so loud you knew that your sisters had to have heard the impromptu consummation of your marriage before you even hit the reception.

“God, it’s so funny to see how the tables have turned after all these years,” Steve moaned as he broke the kiss yet again. His hips stopped thrusting and you quickly came back to reality as his thumb grazed over your own swollen lips, “been in love with you since we were kids, and you acted like you hated me the whole time…but right now…fuck, princess…I bet I could have you begging on your knees for my cock…you wanna be a dirty little slut for me…for your husband. You’re pretty little pussy is strangling my cock like it’s the only thing you need!”

You went to open your mouth, but his finger went over it.

“You don’t need to speak, sweetheart,” he smirked, keeping you silent. His hand slid away from your mouth and down your throat. You felt your cunt clenching around his cock as he stopped at the base of your throat. His brow lifted as his eyes met yours once more, “I can tell what you like just by the way that tight little pussy clings to me…you like this…don’t you? Like the idea of the danger even though you know I’d kill myself before I’d ever harm a hair on your head…is that what you wanna feel, princess? Danger? Wanna feel my hand on your throat as I fuck our future into you? God, you have no idea what you do to me…what you’ve always done to me…you made me everything I am, princess…made me fight to be the man I am today!”

“Steve-“

“And fuck…that body,” he groaned, as his hands slid down your chest, cradling your breasts which had been pulled out of the corseted top of your dress earlier so that Steve could play with them, “god, you have a body made for sin…puberty did us both well, didn’t it, (Y/N)?”

Your eyes flickered down to his kiss swollen lips, and even lower to his chest, the fabric of which was straining over it. The top button had been all but ripped open earlier in a fever as you pulled him into the closet, not knowing what had originally come over you.

His hands guided you to sit on his lap as soon as the two of you got into the limo.

You didn’t expect him to be rock hard.

Matter of fact, you had planned a very well-thought-out argument of how it was sexist for him to just assume you would be sitting on his lap.

But it had quickly gone out the window when you felt his hardened member even through the fabric of your dress.

And the look that he gave you…

It made you want to take him in the limo.

What was coming over you? And why were you becoming crazy over the man you hated as a child?

“We only have a few minutes,” he reminded you with a soft taunt as his hands ran up your chest. He smiled even more, seeing the tops of your breasts over the top of the corseted dress. He leaned forward, pressing gentle kisses on the tops of them. You shivered as his scruff gently scratched at your delicate skin, “so beautiful.”

“Ste-“

“Don’t speak,” he begged as he pressed his lips to yours in a hurried kiss. His hands slid up your body and he massaged your breasts before pulling one out, his mouth making quick work of kissing the exposed flesh until your nipple hardened under his touch, “I’m going to show you the world I built for us…and that starts with me making sure you never doubt how much of a man I am, again! Right now…I want you to feel that manhood…do you feel it, princess?”

You moaned out a yes, nodding as he took your nipple in his mouth. He held you firmly on his lap, grinding his hips upward and rocking against you through your separate clothing, while he tugged on your nipple ever so lightly as his hands wrapped around your waist so that he could bury his face against your chest.

You were having sensory overload.

How did he know what to do to drive you crazy?

“I’ve got so much in store for us,” he moaned as he latched onto your breast once more. Your eyes widened as he tugged your nipple between his teeth, teasing the sensitive nub. Your hands went to his hair, tangling in the sandy tresses, “oh god…keep tugging on my hair like that…I’m already so close to filling you up…give me a reason to not stop until I know you’re pregnant.”

Your eyes went wide, and like being doused in cold water, you sobered up immediately, attempting to push him away from yourself, “Steve…wait. I don’t-“

“No, no…” he pressed on as you squirmed against him, “we can’t stop now…not with how your pretty little pussy is milking me…that cunt wants to be full of me…and I’m going to give her everything she wants! I promised to build us a future when we were younger…it starts here…now!”

“S-Steve…stop!”

“Gonna give you everything, my love,” he promised as he closed in on his own high, “and it all starts tonight…first thing I gave you was my last name…now I’m giving you a baby! Maybe if we’re lucky it’ll be more than one…”

“St-“

He was quick to cover your mouth, and you bit back another whimper as you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

Your stomach turned as you heard how the announcements for your reception had started, and your brother Bucky was introduced with his wife. Your heart broke as you knew that just a few feet away your family and friends were joyously awaiting your entrance as ‘Mrs. Rogers,’ while your new husband was having his way with you…doing whatever he wanted.

“FUCK!” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. You whimpered even more as you felt the warmth of his spend making your stomach feel full. His face flushed, and he looked at you through sweetly sinister eyes. His other free hand stroked your cheek as a tear slipped down it, “oh baby…don’t cry…we’re married. This-this was what we were meant to do, right? Build up the five families…can’t build up the families if we aren’t making one ourselves…but don’t you worry, okay? Tonight’s just the start…I know we don’t have much time. Shit…I think I heard them announce Buck…”

He removed his hand and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips as he pulled out of you.

You felt hollow as he tucked his softening cock back into his pants and quickly moved towards the door. You could see just over his shoulder as the door to the reception opened once more, and they announced your sister Becca and her husband, Thor.

You pushed your dress back down over your lower half while you felt Steve’s cum starting to drip down your inner thigh.

He closed the door and rushed back to you, pressing another kiss to your lips as he straightened out his tie and then helped lift the top half of the dress once more so your breasts were contained in it, “we’ll pick this back up on the way to our honeymoon…promise…have a good little flight all lined up…we’ll christen the whole thing!”

“H-honeymoon?”

Steve smirked as he fixed your veil, placing it back on your head, “of course…I mean, if tonight didn’t take, I know we’ll at least have another month at one of my family’s estates in Tuscany…god you’ll love it there…nothing like those dreary old brownstones your parents have in London.”

You felt a fear raising up in your stomach as you looked at him, “Wh-what do you mean?’

“Baby…one way or another, before Christmas, we’re announcing the fact that there will be a new little Rogers baby…I told you I’m going to give you everything,” Steve smiled, “I told your father that the day that he agreed to let me marry you. I promised all of us a legacy. And we’re only just getting started. Now come on…we can’t miss our own entrance.”

You felt like a robot as he took your hand in his and ushered you out of the room. Winnie and Clint had just been introduced as your elder sister Bethany looked at you over her shoulder. She gave you a sympathetic look as her hand fell to her own stomach.

It was like she knew what you were going through because she had gone through the same things.

It was then that you noticed the way that Sam was holding her. It wasn’t romantic, but possessive.

Had all of your sisters gone through the same thing?

‘It’ll be okay,’ she mouthed to you as the door opened yet again and the MC announced her and Sam, ‘I love you.’

Steve wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him in the same way that Sam had held your sister, and your stomach turned yet again as he gave you a smirk, “looks like we’re next, Mrs. Rogers. You ready?”

#marvel au #marvel #the avengers #steve rogers #captain america #signed sealed delivered #mob au #mafia au #dark steve rogers #steve rogers smut

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neonovember · 25 days

Text

Deceit

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

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!)

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Bucky is quiet the ride over, dark steel greys surveying the road eagerly, like he was waiting for someone, or something to give him a reason to jump out and spill blood.

The wheel wains in his grip, and his dark hair falls over in waves, pushed back behind his ears and smelling of pine nut and mint. There's a hint of a smile on his face, he knows you're watching him.

You avert your gaze quickly, looking towards the mountain trees on either side of the asphalt road ahead.

The relief you had thought would fill you as Bucky pulls into the potholed road of your apartment is blank, and your chest fills vacant without the heat of it. Your mind is restless, and the entire ride over had given you ample time to think over everything that had happened earlier.

You had folded and unfolded every piece of information Bucky had told you about Steve and all it had done was make you feel like you were intruding, like you were given privy to something you had no right knowing. Like peeking through the cracks under closed doors as a child listening in on their parents.

Where your street had once been busy with loitering huddles of gaunt faced men, a quiet murmur settles over the ground floor of your apartment complex, all the way up to the hallway to your place.

And as you pass by a few stragglers who blanch when Bucky shifts his hard gaze towards them, stuttering over their own feet and rushing back to their alleyways, you have an inclination that it was all Steves doing.

His reach was absolute.

You didn’t know what to feel, you’ve known displacement for too long.

Separating from your betrothed, separated from the life you had been half folded into, separating from the very syllabus of your name.

The spaces between the letters get further and further as the years go by. Until you can hardly remember if your namesake is really yours, just a frightening sound that came out of your husband's mouth.

This is different though. Until now, your instinct has always been right. And yet, when you think of Steve? When you try to find footing in your gut it comes up wobbly and unsure.

Was he something more than he let on? Did he only uncover pieces of himself for his own benefit?

Bucky had told you he had lost his own wife, and young too. Forced to be exposed to the brutality of the world before he could even get a chance to indulge in youthful recklessness.

You feel a sense of empathy for him, but also, also surprise. It isn’t the murder, or your own husbands doing that causes a slight slip of your heart. The truth is much more foolish instead.

There was a time Steve was ready to forsake this entire life, live forever looking over his shoulder, turn back on tradition that was as deep as marrow, all for love.

You could laugh if you had remembered what that felt like. The thought outright unnerves you. Steve? The gluttonous leader who held sanctions of New York with an iron fist?

It drives a pit in your stomach when you think too hard about what it means.

There’s a fiery jealousy that swarms you, you had never understood the wielding power that love carried all your life. It was a feeling, just like any other was it not?

Yet it had men like Steve falling to his knees!

And all that swarms your mind is how it’s so unfair, that you’ve never experienced such a thing. That you may never will. Forced to succumb to the life that was only half yours, down a path so far the ground had changed beneath you.

What did it feel like to give in? To show all your misgivings with unabashed apprehension? To let yourself, all of it, to another person?

Anything close to a love like that had come from the faded memories of your father, his warmth and deep gritted protectiveness over you. And that had been stripped from you quicker that you were able to forsake it.

You suppose that wasn't meant to be dealt in your cards, which you had come to understand were drawn years ago. You lie to yourself, but during some nights the aching desire to feel something, to taste the deep gripping love that had caused even Steve to lose focus explodes deep in your gut.

Your longing for connection was something you hid well, and god didn’t you get awfully good at hiding these years? Fit yourself in nooks and crannies that were too small, smoothed out your jagged edges to click into the puzzle pieces.

And yet, the empathy you had silently shared, the intimate conversation you had had with Steve in your mind is stamped out with swiftness as Bucky walks you to your door.

That was then, now Steve had made it perfectly clear where he stood. The cool indifference and hardening this life caused had stolen any shine or hope that Steve may have held those years ago. Everything he did now was calculated, for the betterment of broadening his kingdom.

He might as well have died along with her.

Bucky leans against the hallway, eyes surveying the decrepit halls lit by overexerted linoleum lights. You hesitate a moment, before popping your keys into your door, twisting it this way and that to get it to open.

You flinched as the door opened wide, almost like you were expecting someone to be standing right behind it, waiting for your arrival before pouncing. You’re a child, waiting for the ghoul in the closet to jump out.

Yet all that is there is the same peeling walls of your small entryway and some shoes and a coat strewn to the side in your haste to get to the diner early those days before.

You’d much prefer the monster.

Days, it had only been days, so why did it feel like a lifetime since you stepped foot into your home?

You don’t know what you were expecting, for your apartment to change when you had been kept away from it unceremoniously? For someone to have cleaned out the dishes lying in the sink, and ruffle the pillows lying on your old sofa?

You had craved mundanity for so long, craved consistently at a time where you didn’t know which face of your husband you would meet those days.

When the monster living underneath your husband's skin would jump out.

But now, you crave something more. It simmers right under your skin, deep within your chest and its shadowy fingers flutter over every inch of you.

Your apprehension is evident by the way Bucky shifts his way towards you stuttering frame.

“Hey, I wouldn't be so keen on coming home to this place either. Those carpets don’t look that inviting" Bucky replies, there is a sight lilt in his voice as he drags his eyes across your depressing furnishing.

You cut your eyes towards him, narrowing your lids.

“Not everyone lives in an exorbitant palace you know” You gruffly reply, shuffling into your door in a way that was more spite than eagerness.

Bucky breaks out in a grin that takes up half his face, his hand stuffed into his suit pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

“Talking like a woman who hasn’t done just that half her life” Bucky replies, cocking his head to the side.

Oh right, your husband's estate that took up half of the city. One that was never, and would never be in your name.

You drop your handbag onto one of the hooks attached to the hallway, turning towards Bucky with a sigh.

“That’s different” You reply evenly

“Oh yeah? How so?” Bucky murmurs, eyes shining with a smile

“I was never welcomed in that home- house. God it would never be a home no matter how many architects and designers dressed it up. You think I escaped ‘cause it was my safe haven?” You cock your head to the side and Bucky’s face evens out. The smile adorning his features morphs back into his face as a look passes through his eyes.

“You don’t have to worry about that with Steve-”

“Oh yeah? Because he is the most upfront person to talk to. Right. This place, as depressing as it looks, is solely mine. It’s the only thing I have on this goddamn earth that hasn't been mauled and changed with my husband's fingers. Or the life he leads. You might not understand it, how important that is but-”

“I do. Trust me” Bucky replies, cutting you with and he offers you a nod that was more understanding than half the world's he promised to you.

Can I? You wonder thoughtfully. Was this just a part of some elaborate plan that Rumlow had clued you on? You were everywhere all at once, topsy turvy and turned inside out. This was the life you had to live now.

“Good” You say instead, wringing your fingers as Bucky’s phone begins to buzz from his pants pocket.

You wait for him to reach for it immediately, but he doesn't, just remains quiet as he taps his foot against the hardwood floor. There seemed to be a look of understanding that passed between you when he had racked his fist against the wall adjacent to your door.

The blues of his eyes twinkled under the sun peeking through the hallway window, and you didn’t realize it then but it was trust that shined in his eyes. Like the words he had shared with you warranted the same secrecy he held with the other men he worked with.

You had paid in flesh and blood for your silence, what more was another pound?

The ring runs through, and the silence soon returns between you both.

“I’m not going to the mouth off to half of Brooklyn that their most influential business man likes painting” You reply with a murmur, eyes darting left and right as if neighbors were listening in. Enough of them had watched you walk to your apartment door, eyes strained on Bucky and his shoes that shine too bright. Faces that had never even said hello had craned their necks as you passed, of course. Whispers of inquisition under their breath.

“I know you won’t” Bucky replies instantly. “Just- let him explain the rest of it, yeah? ‘S only fair you hear it from him”

“Fair?” You raise your eyebrows, “You’re talking about fairness now? Bullshit. If you were guided by some moral compass I wouldn't have been forced into this, you wouldn't even be in this life” You snark unconsciously.

Where does this all come from? You hadn't even raised an eyebrow at your husband, and now you were bad mouthing a man with a gun poking through his waistband. You look down, staring at the unusual stain in the hallway carpet you never quite knew what was. The anxiety and timidness you were used to coming back tenfold.

Bucky doesn't retaliate, just looks towards you with a feather-like smirk.

“I was wrong about you, y’know?” Bucky whispers, leaning in as if he were divulging in a secret he couldn't let be spoken in the open air.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re everything like Steve.” Bucky replies thoughtfully, a far away look taking over his dark features.

He’s miles away, reminiscing about parts of Steve that had been left in the dark. He looks younger than, when you notice the way his eyebrows scrunch and his locks fall flat over his face.

But it's enveloped back into Bucky in a second, a sad smile replacing his grin.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call”

Giving you one last nod, he turns back towards the hallway entrance and it takes you a few moments before you realise.

“But I don't have your number!” You call out, leaning out your door

His brown locks shift as he turns back to you

“You sure about that?” A raise of his eyebrows at the ping of your phone, waving you with two fingers.

You don't have to pull it out to know it's him. And you can't help but let out a chuckle before turning back and shutting the door firmly.

You find yourself accompanying your time scrubbing down the floorboard and yellowed walls of your home, filling your hours since Bucky had left with meager tasks. It helps you think, concentrating on little chores around the house so you don't have to think about the thoughts that rattled loudly in your mind.

It’s still well into the morning, and as the sun filters through your drapes you lean back on your heels nodding accomplished at the glint of the shining floors. The walls were an impassive yellow, never yielding no matter what cleaning products you threw at them, but beyond the old entryway carpet the apartment was lined with pristine hardwood floors that shined with a little elbow grease.

Not that shitty huh Bucky?

Wiping the sweat that had grown increasingly uncomfortable above your brow, you make way to your small enclosed kitchenette, swiping a cup from the drying rack before you watch the water fill to its glass edge. You gulp half of it down, before your much needed break is interrupted by the faint buzzing of your phone emitted from somewhere in the living room.

You forage for it quickly, searching till you find it wedged between the cracks of your couch. You pause for a moment, considering whether it might be Bucky, or Steve calling but as you see the vibrating screen of your manager's face you slide the receiver across the screen.

You brace yourself for the inevitable screech of her voice, you haven't been to work in days, an irregular for you considering the mountain of bills that left your bank account squandered each month. You needed this job, and now Steve hand upended your life, you fear it’ll slip through your fingers.

Manager calls, you pick up, she’s very quiet and apprehensive and is all sweet in a a way you remember she never had been before. She’s almost scared to talk to you, asking about a shift you could cover and you say yea without thinking. You need a distraction. Even if Steve had made it clear you no longer needed to worry about work.

“Hello?” You reply, eyebrows furrowing at the beat of silence that fills the space usually used up by ** loud un yielding demands.

“Y/N? Hey, how are you doing” Replies carefully, as if choosing her words.

“What?” You blurt out

You can’t help the confusion that puzzles your voice, who was this person? In the months you had spent working at that dead end job not once has she ever asked how you were. Not when you had spent half your break with your head in your toilet the first few months you had escaped. A cat on edge, nerves frazzled by even the slightest heavy stamp of a dress shoe.

What had changed?

You don’t have to kid yourself, you know the answer deep down. Him, it always goddamn is.

“Sorry, uhm I’m been doing good” You reply “I apologise for kind of just disappearing on you and the Diner”

“Oh that? That’s totally fine, once your friends cleared that up” 8 gulped, the sharp exhale of breath filling the receiver at the mention of this friend of yours.

“Friend?” You reply

“Don’t worry about it, I’m glad your doing alright. Uh-, so uhm ’s sister dropped her kids off at 4am last night at hers, she cant her shift. And * got SAT prep. Can you fill in if possible it’s totally okay if you can’t, I needed to stay back a few anyway-”

“Sure”

You needed the distraction, you felt stifled in the walls of your apartment. It wasn’t meant to be a prison, and yet the only time you felt truly free now was when you slammed the door behind you.

“-oh, Oh thank you! Thank you so much. If you could come in at 12, it’s just the afternoon shift. And if you need to leave for whatever reason it’s totally fine you don’t even have to tell me-“

“Mare?

“Yes?”

“Relax. I miss the diner and it’s crappy linoleum lights anyways”

Mare snorts into the receiver “The teams missing you too”

After passing a few more instructions on the wave of Russian tourists coming through Brooklyn this time of year you let your phone clatter onto the coffee table.

Sure, your manager could be a pain in the ass but being passive aggressive didn’t warrant a mob leader holding you at gunpoint.

You wonder what Steve had said to her to cause her to be this shaken up, she was the most stubborn woman you’ve ever met. It couldn’t have been easy to have her yield, at least not without some sort of real threat.

Especially in New York.

You rifle through your bag before grabbing your work uniform. The musty smell of old oil and grease makes you throw it haphazardly into the laundry basket before reaching for a clean shirt.

You try to look presentable, washing your face with the bathroom tap that never not juts out cold water. You avoid your reflection when you pay your face dry, which is interestingly enough, hard to do since it’s well..your face.

Drawing the wisps of coils that spring free you pull your hair back into a bun. You don’t bother with makeup, it never quite sat right on your face when you did it. Reaching for your bag and throwing your phone and the rest of your miscellaneous, you hurry down the steps of your apartment complex.

Popping in your earphones as you step into the train carriage, you memorise the dock and pull of the train ride till you feel your stop. Your music swims through your veins, and you breathe it in before opening your eyes to the tram doors opening.

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sebastianstansqueen · 5 months

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Lost In The Shadows: Part Eight

A/N: Hey guys, been through a lot for a bit, start giving me Ideas for what type of series you want to see next, i'm curious and finished writing this one so lets see if I can start getting parts out more frequently, If you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 1,226

Warnings: Angst, reader’s ex, maybe fluff, if I forgot anything let me know please!

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Taglist open//

Tags: @cherryblossomsky - - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond - @leyannrae - @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @nik2write - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel - @sebsgirl71479 - @missvelvetsstuff - @hadesownhell - @casa-boiardi - @winterslove1917 - @hallecarey1 - @ash-craze - @barnesxstan - @unaxv - @bethexo07 - @itsmytimetoodream - @sebastians-love -

Y/n thought it was nice having an actual day off, though nursing a hangover from the night before, which she only had blurry memories to support her with what happened. She’d kind of still been avoiding James that morning, except for the delicious breakfast he made that morning for the two of them. She sighed, knowing this was going to happen eventually, so she’d face it head on, maybe. She made her way down to the garage where James had been for the last few hours, when coming in she spotted him in a white tank top that seemed to have been possibly a size smaller than he’d intended and covered in grease.

Y/n could admit that James was very easy on the eyes, especially right now, she came up behind him. “James.” She said, making him jump slightly at the unexpected voice. He moved over to the work bench and shut off the music, then gave her his full attention. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you, I know you probably have good intentions.” She wasn’t fully finished but didn’t quite know what to say she stalled on the ‘but’ for her argument.

Bucky soon cut off her thoughts. “Don’t worry I understand, but you could work with me sometimes.” Then he opted to change the subject. “I’m sorry about what happened last night with Wayne.”

Y/n’s brows furrowed for a moment then it hit her. “Clearly my best decision ever.” She shook her head rolling her eyes. “I can’t believe he took the money.” She laughed lightly shrugging. “Whatever, he’s never coming back so that's all.”

“Y/n.” Bucky started, catching her attention, her e/c eyes connected with his deep blue ones, she hummed. “What if you and I could have a restart? Would you do it?” This was a second chance that he was putting on the table.

Y/n nodded. “Yes.”

______

Wayne left the house as rain poured down and he was pissed, now that Y/n had almost killed him and then he’d gotten kicked out by that Husband, he rolled his eyes at the thought of the guy. As he made his way to the end of the driveway the gate was opened for him, leading down an empty road, he walked for a while, as his thoughts fueled his anger, in the dark when headlights suddenly flashed on, making the blond squint slightly at the bright lights. As he walked around the car the window rolled down. “Who are you?” The guy asked from the dark interior of the car.

“No one you probably want to talk to.” Wayne rolled his eyes, continuing to walk past the vehicle and the car began to follow him.

“How do you know Y/n Carter?” The voice asked.

“Why does it matter?” Wayne hissed in irritation at the person.

The man with short dark hair stuck his head out of the car. “Because if you help me I’ll help you.” “Who the hell are you?” Wayne finally asked.

“I’m Brock Rumlow.” He introduces.

A month after the night that he was found, Brock had hired him, as a Consigliere, he’d given Brock anny information he could about Y/n, but given the fact that he hadn’t seen her in years there were limits. Brock had introduced him to his drug he was wanting to sell, it was tiny glowing blue rocks that were basically souped up steroids, he’d bulked up since that night. Wayne knew Brock was planning something, but he was still kept in the dark as to what it was all he was told by Brock. “Wyane don’t worry, sooner than later we’ll get our revenge on Y/n.” It was more of a promise than an empty threat towards her.

______

Bucky and Y/n had decided to begin the restart of their marriage on a second ‘honeymoon’, they’d gone down to Malibu, California, where Y/n owned a decent sized property, along the beach. Y/n was giving it an honest try, she wouldn’t say she was in love with him, but she liked him, and while there she wouldn't lie she was having fun with him while they were there. They had messed around in the water for hours one day, not coming inside till the sun was well gone. Currently, they sat out on the balcony on, a black and white, outdoor loveseat curled into one another, as they looked out at the water with the moon rising. She wore that red and black robe, Bucky had seen it a few times before while they were at the house.

“Question.” He stated, this is what they agreed to say just so they wouldn’t be caught off guard, Y/n hummed leaning forward to take a sip of her wine. “Why do you wear the robe so often?” He graped a part of the sleeve lifting up the silk material, he didn’t mind the robe, it was perfectly her size hanging off her body while the lacy on the back showed off a majority of her butt. Bucky felt her tense in his arms, a sign she was wanting to shy away. “If you don’t want to answer it, that's alright, you can tell me.” He reminded her.

Y/n sighed looking back out at the water. “I want to tell you, it just might be fucked up.” Her breath stilled for a second, he gently squeezed her hand to reassure her, and tell her she doesn't have to. “It brings me comfort, as you’ve learned Henry wasn’t the best husband.” She knew this was going to sound weird but it was what happened. “When I wore this, usually he’d ignore me for the night, it was like this was my invisible cloak sometimes, I don’t think I could have gotten away with wearing it all the time, but for when I did the abuse stopped those nights, it’s the only thing that I kept form that marriage.”

Bucky nodded in understanding at what she was saying. “What does it mean now, if you're wearing it?” Bucky could see the confusion in Y/n’s furrowed brows. “What I mean is, like when your wearing it, does it mean you need a break, and want me to sleep in a different room, or is it just-I don’t know, um-” She cut him off. “It’s more for physical comfort, because of other stuff that I'll tell you about eventually.” He nodded, understanding and relaxing back again. “My turn, how far along are you with the car?” She changed it to a much lighter topic.

“Almost done, either I’m thinking about getting another project car or possibly getting a job at an actual mechanic garage.” Bucky explained to her what he wanted to possibly do.

Y/n didn’t want to be blunt about that, but he could do almost anything he wanted, but it would be hard if Bucky had a job that made it so he had specific times he had to be there, when Y/n traveled a lot obviously for her job. “Yeah.” She smiled. “Maybe you just start with a new project car, you never know what's going to come up.” Bucky nodded with what she said. “Let’s go to bed.” She said standing up and pulling Bucky along with her.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #mob!bucky x reader #james buchanan bucky barnes #mafia!bucky x reader #avengers mob au #mob!bucky x wife!reader #mechanic!bucky x reader #bucky x mob!reader

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buckyalpine · 1 year

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Catch Me If You Can 3/3

Mob!Bucky x Single mom Police officer reader

Warnings:

I really like this AU so while this is the final part, BUT I will write stuff for these two here and there (like the proposal and so much more I have in my head for them)

Part 1

Part 2

Your heart stopped as you stood near the door, hearing the conversation between your son and Bucky. The rest of what they were saying was drowned out with a dull buzz filling your ears, all your emotions coursing through your body all at once.

Dad.

A word Jordan had resented all is life, only associating the term with a man who wanted nothing to do with him. Dad meant loneliness, fear, abandonment, abuse.

Dad was something he never had an interest in.

No one you had ever dated in the past was worthy of being in Jordan’s life, something you put first whenever you went out. Not one person had made it even close to meeting him let alone standing in as a father figure to him. You soon accepted that your life would be just you and him until he grew up and had his own family as well.

But now?

Dad.

And Bucky, of all people.

You didn’t even realize tears were streaming down your face until you felt a drop slip onto your collarbone, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth and rushing to your bedroom, shutting the door. You buried your face in your hands, your heart twisting at the thought of how safe your son must have felt around Bucky. How he loved spending time with the mob boss, never wanting to leave, feeling like he was at home more and more each day.

He wasn’t the only one.

It wasn’t shock that Bucky felt.

It was pain.

Pain that he saw Jordan as his own but couldn’t take on that role.

Pain where whenever he spent time with either of you, he’d never want it to end, finding any excuse under the sun to get you to stay.

But how could he feel all that when you were both from two different worlds, one where the two couldn’t mix.

If only.

“I think you should ask mama bear how she’d feel about that” Bucky softly ruffled his hair while Jordan made a thinking face before nodding to himself. He was well aware that uncle Bucky wasn’t exactly in the all clear but he wasn’t blind either. You definitely used less no-no words when talking about Bucky. You’d mumble something occasionally, but he caught the little smile that graced your lips, often rolling his eyes when you’d try to wipe it off immediately after.

“I don’t think she wants to arrest you anymore but I can’t make any promises. Mommy takes her job very seriously” Jordan downed the rest of his juice while Bucky chuckled, nodding his head.

“Mama is very good at her job, she puts away the bad guys”

“But you’re a good guy” Jordan shrugged, continuing to work on his homework, hoping to revisit the topic later.

As soon as Jordan was ready for bed and tucked in, you went down to the kitchen for a late night snack, book in hand with your silk robe tied around your body. You figured everyone had gone to sleep, allowing yourself to lounge in something that made you feel good, the outfit on the racier side. You set your mug down on the marble counter top, popping a strawberry into your mouth and opening your book, too engrossed in the story to hear the footsteps that padded down the hall.

Bucky blinked as soon as he walked in the kitchen, stopping dead in his tracks when his eyes fell on you. Wrapped in silk. Your lips stained with sweet berry juice. Your plush thighs on full display. In his kitchen. Where he could bend you over the counter-

He mentally flicked himself in the ear, letting out a cough to announce his presence, hoping some blood would flowback to his brain before you shot his dick off. Your eyes flicked up, your heart jolting at the sight of a very shirtless Bucky, his t-shirt slung over his shoulder, joggers riding low on his hips. Sweat glistened off his tan skin, the veins on his forearms prominent from the workout he just had.

“Thought everyone was asleep” You wrapped your roble a little tighter around yourself, ignoring the butterflies that rabidly bounced around your stomach, willing your eyes to look away from the dark trail of hair on his stomach that lead right down to his-

“Couldn’t sleep” Bucky broke you out of your filthy train of thoughts as he walked to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and debating on dumping it on his head to calm himself down. “I had an interesting conversation with the little one” He murmured, taking a swing from the water bottle, struggling to take his eyes off the way you fit so perfectly in his home, so pretty in silk, the type of thing he’d want to come home to everyday-

“I heard” You nodded, taking a long sip of tea, trying to calm your racing heart. Everything about him was perfect, except for the fact that his entire being was dedicated to a life of crime. While Jordan didn’t tell you about his request to call Bucky something different, he did talk your ear off about uncle Steve and Bucky’s motor bike collection. “Didn’t realize you’d all be so good with kids”

Bucky chuckled, equally surprised with himself over how easy it was for him to move with Jordan. It came naturally. He’d thought about having a family before but this was the first time he saw himself as a father-

Stop.

You’re not his dad.

“Again, I’m part of the mob sweets, not a monster. Family comes first”

You hummed, before continuing, “So how did that conversation go?”

“Asked him what his pretty mama would think” Bucky tossed you a charming smirk which you rolled your eyes to, biting down hard on your lip to keep from smiling.

“In those exact words Barnes?”

“It’s definitely what I was thinking” Bucky shrugged while you took another swing of tea to stifle a giggle. Neither of you said anything else, quietly continuing what you were doing unable to look each other in the eye. Jordan sat at the top of the stairs, smacking his forehead before trudging back to bed. Clearly he wasn’t the only one who adored his mommy.

Something about that night had changed things. You still maintained that the nature of your relationship was strictly because of Jordan's safety and nothing else. You’d even once jokingly cuffed Bucky, much to his surprise, his eyes growing wide when he found himself pinned against the wall, caught off guard with how swiftly you were able to hold him down.

He felt goosebumps erupt over his skin when you teasingly whispered his rights before uncuffing him and twirling the metal in your hands. Jordan found it hilarious, while Bucky was left a babbling mess, insisting he let you arrest him and that you’d never actually be able to disarm him so easily if he fought back.

In fact, he even insisted you try again.

And again.

Steve once had to slowly pull Jordan away, distracting him with another kinder egg, worrying your latest arrest would turn into something else, watching Bucky’s pupils dilate with the clink of the cuffs wrapping around his wrist. He also noticed the way you smirked, your hands lingering on him for longer than necessary for a lawful arrest.

“You like my mom”

Bucky’s eyes shot up, staring at the little thing that was sprawled out on the office floor, putting together Lego’s, the mop of dark hair popping up and staring directly at him.

“What?”

“You like mommy, your face does that pink thing whenever your near her, even when she tries to put you in jail. Have you no shame”

Steve cackled from the corner, while Bucky stood like a fish gaping out of water, his cheeks blushing heavily again.

“You’re doing it right now” Jordan narrowed his eyes while Bucky helplessly tried to make his face less pink, the color only getting worse. “You like her”

Well, the little devil spawn wasn’t wrong, there was no doubt Bucky was harboring a school boy crush on you, growing worse each day.

“And she likes you” Jordan stated, “so what are you going to do about it” He set down the Lego pieces and crossed his arms over his chest, making it clear he wasn’t going to let Bucky weasel his way out of this. Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, realizing he hadn’t been as subtle as he thought while your son continued to stare at him.

“J, it’s complicated, it’s hard for your to understand- your mom- and me- she-”

“I’m sure it takes a real Sherlock to understand why mommy doesn’t want to date her sworn enemy” Jordan dead panned, giving Bucky another pointed look, not needing anyone to break down for him why there was so much unspoken tension between you two.

His mom was a police officer.

She followed the rules.

She respected the law.

Bucky didn’t follow the rules.

The law meant nothing to him.

You weren’t exactly a match made in heaven.

But Jordan wasn’t blind to the way you also got giggly around Bucky no matter how hard you tried not to. It wasn’t often he saw his mama looked so happy and relaxed. If his favorite new uncle made you swoon, who was he to stand in the way of true love and getting a new daddy.

“You like her. She likes you. Right?”

“Okay so it’s not complicated” Bucky huffed while Jordan nodded, expecting uncle Bucky to walk over to you right that instant and profess his feelings out in the open. “But I don’t think I fit into her life like that though kid” He tried but Jordan wasn’t having any of it.

“Ugh, but she has no life!" Jordan rolled his eyes while Steve wheezed, watching Bucky single handedly get taken down by someone that was a quarter of his size. “All she used to do is work and help me with homework and complain about you” He got up from his place on the floor and sat in the office chair opposite to Bucky. “And she still complains about you but now she giggles in between and she doesn’t call you that word that rhymes with mother tucker”

“What does she call me now” Bucky’s curiosity piqued while Jordan scrunched his nose.

“Welllll, why don’t’cha get yourself arrested again and see what she says” He kicked his feet innocently, looking at the mob boss in the eye, “Uncle Steve, he’s blushing again” Jordan shot out an accusatory finger while Steve howled, giving your son a high five.

“That’s my little man, you tell him”

“I’m trying to but he’s still sitting here drinking expensive spicy apple juice”

“You know too much for your age” Bucky rubbed his temples, torn between what his next steps would be and actually considering Jordan’s advice to have you cuff him.

What he wouldn’t do to have your hands on-

“You don’t know enough” Jordan countered, plucking the juice box he left on the table, taking a long sip, happy to have his uncle Steve as an ally.

All it took was a threatening phone call from your ex’s sister for Bucky to get you to stay even longer on his insistence. He didn’t care that she lived in an entirely different continent or that she was a delusional loon; he’d use any excuse possible to keep you near by.

“James, she lives in another country-

“Doesn’t matter”

“I’ve already stayed a month!”

“Stay another”

“But-

“No”

You didn’t like that your feelings were getting harder and harder to contain, your moral compass going haywire, trying to figure out what to do. Seeing Bucky with Jordan pained you the most. Your baby boys eyes would light up as soon as he’d hear the mob boss walk through the door, your heart swelling each time you saw Bucky parading around the house, carrying him on his shoulders. Steve, Sam and Peter didn’t help either, the three of them taking care of Jordan just as much as you did when they weren’t off on illegal shady antics, their line of work as wholesome and innocent as your son when he claimed he only had one kinder egg.

Bald faced liars, all of them.

You felt loved, safe and alone at the same time, conflicted over which direction to follow, your heart screaming to just look the other way at the wrong things he did. But that wasn’t the job. That wasn’t what you stood for. You took an oath to protect innocent lives and accepting full on gang activity didn’t align with that.

Did it?

Though Jordan wasn’t having any of it either, noticing more and more tension building between the both of you, more longing glances and lingering touches each time you were near one another.

If neither of you were going to do anything about it, he’d have to take matters into his own little hands.

Like tonight.

You found it strange that Jordan had insisted on only going out with Steve, Sam and Peter, your little one usually following Bucky around the most. He insisted he was perfectly fine with only going with these three, also throwing in that uncle Bucky was very very busy with lots of meetings, therefore couldn't join them for the movie they were going to see. You were hesitant at first but he gave you little room for argument.

“Jordan, the screen here is literally bigger than the movie theater anyway-

“But moooommy, pleeaaseeee?” He gave you his best puppy eyes and pout, something he seemed to perfect from his latest idol, jumping on you when you finally agreed, though not trusting why Sam, Steve and Peter looked equally giggly and guilty. They left for the day, giving you a night to relax in the quiet mansion.

You decided to pamper yourself, taking advantage of the large tub in the guest bathroom, filling it up with essential oils and bath salts, letting out a content sigh feeling the hot water ease your muscles. You stayed there till the water felt cold, rinsing off and toweling off. You moisturized and slipped on one of your nicer silk robes, figuring you could wear your pj’s later when you actually went to bed.

Not like anyone was home now anyway.

You went down to the kitchen to grab some tea before heading back to your room, curious to find the office door cracked open; typically closed when Bucky was working.

Was he working?

“I see you’re busy” You poked your head into Bucky’s dimly lit office to find him lounging with a book, sipping on dark amber liquid, wearing a soft tshirt and joggers, clearly the opposite of busy with lots and lots of meetings.

You’d have a word with your little one later.

“Where did everyone go” Bucky cocked an eyebrow at the surprisingly silent house, mentally holding himself back as you stepped into his office in your robe again, desperately wanting to pounce on you. his eyes lingered on you, swallowing thickly noting he couldn’t see your sleep shorts from under the robe, were you wearing nothing underneath-

“My baby was an angel before he met you” You shook your head at your sons sneaky work of finding a way to get you and Bucky together alone. “He said you were busy today and then took off with your henchmen, they’ve been out for hours”

“Smart kid” Bucky snorted, secretly proud of the little mob boss in the making, though you’d probably serve his head on a platter if you heard his thoughts. “Want a drink?” He held up his glass, getting up to grab you one as well, dropping a few ice cubes in the crystal.

You bit your lip as you approached him, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell you felt like you had been doused in lava, your heart beating a mile a minute with the thick tension that hung in the air. A drink meant nothing; he offered it to you because he was polite. You’d have your drink and then your ass right back to your room because if you waited there a second longer, with him in those fitting sweats-

“You look very busy yourself, officer” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, nodding at your clothing, or lack thereof, shamelessly letting his eyes wander up and down your body while he handed you the glass, clinking it with yours before taking a long drag.

“Hmm, took advantage of the peace and quiet and clawfoot tub” You licked the drop of whiskey that clung to your lips, letting the burn distract your brain yelling at you to run while your heart wrapped bricks around your ankles, keeping you in place. “It was nice. I’ll miss it when we go back home”

You threw the last bit out there as a reminder for yourself; none of this was forever. All good things would have to come to and end at some point. Bucky felt his stomach drop at the thought; each day he’d find any excuse he could to have you stay just one extra day.

Just one extra day to bicker with you.

One extra day to spend with the little one.

One extra day to get on your nerves.

One extra day to spend with the family he’d always thought he’d have one day.

“You don’t have to go any time soon” Bucky whispered, unsure if he wanted you to hear those words, taking a step closer to you, “Stay...a little longer?”

“You say that a lot, I might just end up staying forever” You let out a breathless laugh, feeling the warmth of the alcohol relax your muscles, giving into the pull you felt towards him.

“Would that be so bad?” He smirked but the inside of him was on his knees, begging for a chance, just one.

“It-it would-” you couldn’t find the words, stumbling over them, getting lost in the baby blues gazing down at you, his eyes darting between yours and your lips. You didn’t realize you were leaning in, your body following what it needed, morals and ethics be damned.

“I know its not just me” Bucky whispered, hesitantly putting his hand on your waist to pull you closer, wanting to feel your soft lips on his, hug you and cuddle you, make you his. He didn’t want just one night, he wanted this for life. “Tell me you feel the same way”

You felt your throat tighten, your body tensing in his hold as he rested his forehead against yours, your nose bumping against his. He held you even closer to him, your hands gripping onto his shirt feeling his warm breath gently fan onto your face, his lips just brushing against yours, just as soft as you’d imagined they’d be. You nearly gave into him, pulling away at the last second, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“What’s wrong, doll”

“We can’t-” You shook, hanging your head, overwhelmed over what all of this entailed, what this would mean to you, what you would do if this didn’t work, your baby boy came first-

“We can” Bucky cupped your cheeks, breaking you away from your spiral, swiping away the tears that fell, “We can baby, I promise we can”

“How- how do we make this work James, we come from two different worlds” You tried to reason with him but again this was more to yourself; how could you drop your entire life for this, risk everything for something so uncertain even though your heart yearned for it.

“Princess, I will show you everything, every damn thing under my name, I know it’s not perfect, but just let me show you. All of it. No secrets from you, not one. I promise, I won’t hurt you, not your baby, I care about you. I care about you both”

“James-”

“Just give me a chance” His grip around your waist tightened, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close, bringing one hand to cradle your face, tilting it to look up at him. “C’mon sweets, you’ve been chasing after me for ages” He smirked against your lips, kissing them softly. “Now you got me”

“Then we take things slow” You stated firmly, pressing your finger into his chest, “and no funny business Barnes” You swatted his hand away when he trailed them to the hem of your robe, brushing your bare thigh making goosebumps erupt all over your skin. He chuckled at the pointed look you gave him, trying and failing at hiding how turned on you were. “And Jordan can’t know yet” His face softened, nodding in agreement, understanding where you were coming from.

“Just me and you” He kissed you again, gentle and sweet, a promise of taking things your way, baring his heart and soul to you in any way you asked. It didn’t matter how badly he wanted to claim you in every way, make you his at the alter if you let him, be a daddy to your baby boy. He’d wait as long as you needed.

“Just me and you”

Steve and Sam had easily put two and two together as soon as they got back home, noting their boss was smiling like an idiot to himself most of the time, a stark contrast from his signature grumpy scowl. They never said anything, but they did pride themselves as being part o the reason this happened; after all they were the ones who conspired with your little one to get you two alone.

If Bucky was sweet before, he was tooth rottingly adorable now but only when it was just the two of you. You didn’t dare breathe a word to Jordan, not wanting to give him false hope if things didn’t work out. Truthful to his word, he came clean about everything. With each of his confessions, the world turned into different shades of grey instead of black and white.

Nothing he did was legal.

Nor was it hurting those who were innocent.

Your dead beat of an ex had a clean criminal record and was a standup citizen until it came to being a father and decent human being. Your son hardly thought twice about him. Bucky had killed more people than fingers on your hands but Jordan adored him.

When it was just the two of you, Bucky turned into a teddy bear, constantly kissing and hugging you, romantic as ever when he got the chance. He’d send the cooks away so he could make dinner, run you a bath when you had a long day, massage your feet while you sat on his desk in his office. He’d be on calls, the phone resting between his shoulder and ear while his calloused fingers would work at your toes, gently rubbing and pressing the aches out, before massaging up your calves. As soon as you heard the patter of little feet down the hall, you’d hop off and slink away, hiding the smile on your face when your son would take your place instead, plopping himself in Bucky’s office noting he was blushing again for some reason.

You still hadn’t been intimate with him yet. As much as he wanted you, Bucky didn’t let you feel an ounce of pressure, no matter how badly he wanted to love on you completely and show you exactly how much he adored you in the closest way possible. He relished in every second he got to spend with you, especially the select nights he got alone with you.

Like tonight.

“Promise you’ll try and be nice to Uncle Bucky?” Jordan cocked his head with hopeful eyes, still hoping his ship would sail of getting you both together. Thus far, nothing seemed to have changed and his hopes were starting to drop. “Please?”

“I’ll try” you giggled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before he slipped into the dark SUV with Bucky’s side pieces in tow, Sam, Steve and Peter all grinning widely for a boys trip over the weekend. “No promises though baby”

“Yeah officer, play nice with our boss” Steve winked while Sam cackled, closing the door and revving off, leaving the large mansion absolutely empty. The cleaning staff, gardeners s and cooks had been given the weekend off along with a generous bonus to keep them away for a few days. You slipped into one of Bucky’s t-shirts which hung loosely on you, not bothering to wear anything else underneath. You inhaled the soft scent of the fabric, his cologne and something distinctly him lingering on the fabric making you feel warm and fuzzy. The sound of keys hitting the keyboard carried through the hall; Bucky typing away at his computer but you couldn’t help wanting to be wrapped up in his arms, quietly peeking into his office and padding over to him.

“My pretty girl” He cooed, scooping you in his arms while you curled up on his lap, playing with his chains as he continued to work. “You miss me, baby?”

“You wish” You bit your lip, playfully rolling your eyes, knowing damn well you had missed him like crazy after he holed himself up with work business. “Don’t flatter yourself”

“You’re the one slinking around me, kitten” Bucky tilted your chin up pecking a tiny kiss on your nose, making you giggle. “C’mon, I wanna cuddle with my girl” He murmured in your ear making you shiver. He held you to his chest as he picked you up and carried you over to his room, setting you down on his bed before walking over to the closet and slipping on some sweats. He didn’t bother with a shirt, striding with his grey joggers riding low around his waist, giving you a pretty view of his Adonis belt, pointing straight to his-

“Angel” He crawled on top of you, humming at the feeling of your soft body under his, peppering kisses from your neck to your jaw, eventually pressing them against your lips. The kiss started soft and slowly, gradually getting more heated when you grazed his scalp with your nails, gasping at the feeling of his erection pressing against your clothed core. You instinctively moved your thighs further apart, granting him more access to rut against you, panting each time he groaned, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

He didn’t pull away until he needed air, his warm breath fanning against your face, hearts beating erratically. This had been the closest you’d ever been with each other, your thighs gently squeezing around his waist, making him thrust against you, drawing a out a moan. Bucky lost himself for a moment, gently caressing his thumb on your cheek, the other hand cradling your head, his large frame keeping you safely tucked underneath him, hidden from the rest of the world.

Exactly what he wanted.

Safe in his arms.

“Do you want this?” Bucky stopped what he was doing to check on you, his hand still softly stroking your skin. “We can stop, we don’t have to do this tonight-

“Don’t stop” you whispered, pulling him back, your arms clinging around his shoulders, eyes pleading for him to do something.

“I’ve wanted this for so long baby” He sat back on his heels, toying with the hem of your tshirt, his thick cock straining against painfully against his sweats. “Can I?” He waited for your permission before carefully removing your top off and ridding himself of his sweats and boxers, desperately just wanting to feel your bare skin against his. You felt too needy, too desperate for him, whining when he pulled away to settled between your legs, pressing a delicate kiss to your inner thigh.

“Just want you James, please?” You pouted, feeling empty when his leaky cock was right there, though his sinful mouth was tempting.

“Just one taste, angel?” He begged, inching down to your soaked pussy, spreading your folds apart before sealing his lips around your swollen clit, his eyes rolling back at the way your legs suffocated him.

“J-James” You moaned out, your hand going down to tug at his roots, grinding your pussy on his face, his groans adding vibrations to your sensitive nub. He felt greedy, burying his tongue deep in your cunt, lapping and drinking every drop your body was willing to give, his arms coming up to hold your legs apart, his head shaking side to side. He sucked and licked until you were a babbling mess, clawing at his shoulders to pull him back on top of you, bucking your hips up against his thick hard length.

“What do you need, pretty baby” Bucky cooed, soothing your whimpers with his cock rubbing through your folds, hushing you gently.

“Want you James, please?”

“I got you sweets, don’t worry, you ready?” He kept his eyes locked with yours, holding still until you nodded, the blunt tip of his cock pushing into your pulsating entrance.

“Oh fuck-” You cried at the way his girth started to fill you, your pussy tightly hugging his cock, a gentle delicious burn radiating through your lower half, stretching open for him. “Baby-”

“Shhhh” Bucky continued to slowly inch inside you, pressing soft kisses along your neck, his body weight resting on top of you, “It’s just me sweets, just your Bucky”

“Fuck, Bucky” Your nails dug into his shoulders, nearly breaking the skin, hissing at the way you could almost feel him in your belly.

“Breathe, Its just you and me baby, just you and me, yeah?” He kissed your temple, feeling just as desperate and needy as you, his cock throbbing at the way it felt to hold you, kiss you, feel all of you, be inside you.

“Just-just you and me” You whispered, clinging onto his body as he continued to press into you, groaning at the way your pussy fluttered around him, pulling him deeper.

“Thats my good girl” His large hand held your thigh up higher on his waist, fully sheathing himself inside you. Bucky panted against your neck in an attempt to calm himself down, feeing his balls already pulling towards his body, his cock thumping, ready to blow. He started with slow languid thrusts, savoring the pretty moans you made for him, your softness connected to him.

“Such a pretty mama” His lips brushed against yours, loving the soft touch of your skin, his hands feeling every inch of your body. He sat back on his heels, keeping his cock deep inside you, groaning at the sight of your body on full display just for him, your lip caught between your teeth, feeling hot under his intense gaze.

“Fuck- Fuck right there baby, please, right there!” You sobbed in pleasure as Bucky moved your thighs up, practically folding you in half, hitting an even deeper angle, rubbing perfectly at your gspopt. “Don’t-don’t stop-”

“I won’t stop, mama” He traced the delicate lines of stretch marks that were scattered across your lower belly and thighs, evidence of the sweet baby boy your body had given you, the boy he also now grew to love. “Wanted to make love to you for so long baby. wanted you to feel how much I care about you, make you feel so good” Bucky’s emotions were all over the place, feeling pleasure and love for you at an all time high.

His eyes were locked at there the two of you connected, snapping his hips forward, watching your tummy bulge with each thrust, cream covering the trimmed curls at his base. Your broken moans spurred him off, collapsing on top of you with your legs slung over his shoulders, his cock impossibly deep. His hands snaked up to pin your arms above your head, your fingers intertwined with his, keeping you completely surrendered to him.

“I love you” He whispered, voice thick with emotion, foreheads pressed together, not a single part of your body not touching his. “and everything you brought into this world”

“I-I love you” You half sobbed and stuttered out, eyes rolling back feeling him work his hips faster, pushing you against the pillows and pounding you into the mattress. “FUCK-JAMIE-THERE-R-RIGHT-TH-THERE”

“S’that your spot babygirl? Right there, huh angel, god you make me wanna blow, you sound so pretty with my cock in you” Bucky groaned, no longer able to hold back, moaning along with you, the sound of skin slapping on skin growing faster and louder. “Fuck-cum baby, cum on this dick, cum on my dick, s’all yours angel, give me that cream”

“YES-YES-OH-Jamiee!” Your back bowed, legs shaking and trembling as your orgasm started to pulse, waves of please growing more and more intense as he fucked you through your high. Your greedy pussy sucked him in deeper, pulling him closer and closer.

“Yeah, m’your Jamie baby” Bucky let out a soft chuckle at the new name you’d given him, one only you’d ever be able to use. It got him off more, his pace losing rhythm, his own climax just at the edge. “Just your Jamie angel, only for you, fuck baby, m’gonna cum for you, all this is for you” He tucked his face into the crook of your neck, moaning loudly and nipping against your skin as he started to pump you full of his cum, giving you sloppy thrusts, making sure you were filled with every drop.

You cooed and rubbed his body while he panted, his cock slowly beginning to soften, tucking himself further into your hold. You smiled at how soft and loving he was in that moment, pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead, his blue eyes peering up at you at the feeling of your lips.

“Look at my pretty girl being all sweet on me” He grinned, yelping at the pinch you gave to his side.

“Don’t make me cuff you, Barnes” You huffed while pink dusted his cheeks at the thought, his mind now going other places.

“Threatening me with a good time, sweetheart?” He smirked, wrapping his arms around you and rolling over, pinning you back against the mattress again, this time his hands locking around your wrists. “S’that what you want pretty girl? To have my in cuffs? Do everything you ask? Be a good girl for me and I’ll let you have your way with me one day officer”

“Be a good girl for you?” You smirked, wrapping your legs around his waist, bucking your hips up against his sensitive cock, making him hiss, nipping your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whimper.

“Careful babygirl, don’t forget who you’re in bed with” His lips continued to brush against you, grazing your skin down to your collar bone. “Let me remind you, sweets”

As soon as the boys were back, Jordan ran full speed to you, jumping in your arms first, talking your ear off about all the ridiculous antics he had done with Steve, Sam and Peter. You huffed, playfully rolling your eyes while keeping him on your hip, before setting him down on his feet and instructing him to wash up so he could tell you everything properly over dinner. Jordan clung onto you for just a second longer, he could’ve sworn there was a faint scent of cologne that clung onto you, one just like-

While you were entranced with your little one, Bucky was entranced with you. Effortlessly swaying with your baby who was clearly not exactly a tiny baby anymore, the scrunch on of your nose when you smiled around him, the way your eyes sparkled. Jordan ran up two steps at a time to shower as fast as humanly possible while Bucky snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you to his chest, his sneaky hands pawing at your hips, slipping up your shirt.

“You’re such a milf” Bucky smirked while you gasped, smacking his chest, eyes darting around the room to see if anyone heard.

“Bucky” You hissed, squeaking, your face growing hot when he hugged you tighter, burying his face into your hair.

“It’s true though princess, God damn” He kissed up the side of your neck, “Such a pretty mama, can’t help it”

“Yeah, well your little side kick is going to want to tell you all about the weekend” You giggled, wiggling out of his hold and walking off to the kitchen to get dinner started while Bucky hummed, making his way to the office. Jordan scrubbed himself down within seconds before rushing back down to tell you everything, eyeing you curiously while you set his plate in front of him.

“Isn’t that Uncle Bucky’s shirt?” He pipped up, with owlish eyes, waiting for your asnwer.

“Oh-so it is” You looked down at the black tshirt you were wearing, one that went to the middle of your thighs. “Uh-Must’ve gotten mixed up in the laundry” You shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t ask anything else.

As if you’d ever get so lucky.

“But it’s so big on you-”

“Tell me about your weekend baby” You cut him off while Jordan narrowed his eyes at you accusingly, deciding he’d have better luck elsewhere instead of prying with you. He gave you his best summarized version before running back upstairs and taking his designated spot beside Bucky (going to the fridge first to grab himself some juice).

“Mommy was wearing your shirt” He stated, inching closer to Bucky, noting the way the Mob bosses’ eyes grew wide, his cheeks blushing deeply, crawling down his neck and up to his ears.

“I-Uh-Oh-”

Not once had Jordan ever see Bucky get flustered except when it involved you, his hopes growing high again, also why did Bucky smell like your shampoo-

“Maybe-maybe it got switched in the laundry?”

“You never do laundry, the cleaners do”

“They were away this weekend, J”

“So it was just you and mommy”

“Yup”

“Whatcha do”

“......work”

“What did mommy do”

“....laundry?”

“The whole weekend?”

“Yup”

“You smell like her”

*silence*

*Blushing intensifies*

*Little shy smile creeps on Bucky’s face*

“Did you finally tell mommy you like her? Oh God, you’re pink again” Jordan sat right up, eyes wide with anticipation while Bucky bit his lip before answering.

“I did”

“So...”

“So?”

“Can I call you dad, now?” Jordan’s voice was a whisper again, the confidence he had all this time turning into nervousness, playing with his fingers, avoiding Bucky’s eyes. Bucky felt his heart melt, pulling him onto his lap, pressing a gentle kiss to his head, the little one curling himself up slightly, still looking at his hands. Bucky felt warmth all over, thinking back to a conversation he had with you a little while ago, just before Jordan had came home, one that would stick with him for the rest of his life.

“Are you sure this is what you want” You asked hesitantly, toying with the hem of your pj’s while Bucky tilted your face up to look at him, hearing the anxiety in your voice.

“What do you mean?” “It’s not just me Bucky, it’s both of us” You whispered, wondering if Bucky fully understood what he was signing up for. “I-I don’t want you to ever feel like-like he isn’t yours. I know he’s not and I know you care about him but I’m scared you’ll want us now and then later you won’t-” Bucky softly pressed his finger to your lips, silencing you, not willing to hear another word.

“Where is this coming from” He held you closer while you nervously chewed your lip.

“I’m a single mom. My job isn’t the most attractive. I’m not the first person people line up to date. I didn’t do any of this for so long because I’m terrified anyone that comes into my life will leave and I can’t do that to Jordan-”

“That’s my baby now too” His hands held your cheeks firmly, each of his words coming straight from his soul. “I want to be there for him sweetheart, if you’d let me. If you ever want me out, I won’t .Just say the word, I’m here”

“It’ll be a lot Bucky”

“What haven’t I seen yet, baby” Bucky shrugged while you began to list reasons. “Sometimes he’s moody”

“So is his mommy-OW”

“Sometimes he can have a temper-Don’t you dare say it”

“Occasional picky eater”

“He’s still learning how to multiply”

“He’ll be a teenager in a few years”

“He’ll want to drive the SUV”

“He’ll want to try the spicy apply juice”

“He thinks your a hero”

“You’ll be there?”

“I’ll be there”

“S’that what you want?” Bucky decided to ask Jordan one more time, giving your baby the choice to take it back if it wasn’t something he was sure about but your son eagerly nodded, his face splitting into a grin. He leapt off the sofa sprinting off down the hall, his voice echoing through the mansion.

“MOMMY, DADDY SAID I COULD CALL HIM DAD. UNCLE STEVE, OUR PLAN WORKED”

“You went from trying to stick him in prison to life to being stuck with him for life, how the turn tables”

You groaned, doing a terrible job and hiding the smile that crept on your face, your partner waving to the black SUV that was parked outside, waiting for you while you packed your things for the end of the day.

“Just to be clear, we’re no longer trying to arrest him right? You looooove him” You threw a pad of sticky notes at your partners head while she cackled, green eyes twinkling.

“Shut up, Romanoff”

“Set me up with his cute best friend, that blonde cutie sitting in the front seat” She cocked an eyebrow while you snorted, nodding to your boss as he walked by your desk.

“Took you long enough” Your boss playfully rolled his eyes, sending you a wink before making his way to his office. You smiled at the pretty blue eyes that watched you as you walked over, holding the door open and closing it for you, lips all over your face as soon as the locks clicked shut.

“Have a good day at work, officer?” He chuckled, pulling you to his lap, nuzzling into you while you sighed contently, tossing your gun and badge aside, melting into Bucky’s arms. You giggled at the glitter that was dusted into his hair after he spent the previous night helping Jordan with a school project, ruffling your hands through his soft locks, pulling him down for a long kiss. “Let’s go home”

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kaunis-sielu · 6 months

Text

Dangerous Places: 5

His phone rings and you flinch at the sound, “Sorry Bunny I have to take this.” He says moving away from you he brings the phone to his ear. He didn’t say you could move so you stay on the couch as tears burn your eyes.

It’s been hours since they’d kidnapped you from your bed, you don’t know exactly how long or what time it is. The small home inside the warehouse doesn’t let in light from outside. It’s just, darkness. Your eyelids are heavy, god they’re so heavy but you don’t dare fall asleep.

“Bunny?” Steve’s voice is gentle as you startle awake.

“Shit. Captain I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’m sorry.” You blurt as you jolt up but Captain only shushes you gently.

“You don’t need to ask permission to sleep,” when you glance up at him in surprise his jaw is clenched tightly.

“I’m,”

“Bunny. I’m not mad at you.” Captain cuts you off, his voice low and tight, “I’m mad at him. I’m fucking furious with how I see he treated you. I’m gonna fucking destroy him.” When you continue to stare up at him in surprise he takes a deep breath, “Men in my family treat their women with care, respect and utter devotion. We do not have mistresses, we do not have multiple partners and we would rather cut off our own hand than raise them against our women. The fact that he clearly abused you, branded you and tricked you makes me see red.” Someone knocks on the door and you flinch again,

“One second,” Captain calls before looking back at you,

“Do you want me to bring you to the bed or would you rather sleep out here?”

“I don’t know.”

“How about the bed? It’ll be quieter.” There’s another knock on the door but this time it opens.

“He’s here.” Winter says before closing the door again.

“I’m gonna pick you up Bunny. Bring you to the bedroom. I’ve got stuff to take care of.” He moves slowly, slides his arms under you gently then lifts you easily into the air. You cling to him, out of instinct more than anything, and he carries you to the back bedroom. He puts you down on the bed,

“If you need anything just push the button there, I can’t give you a phone but that’ll get someone in here. Try to stay off those feet, I’ll be back later with food.” You blink after him in confusion, who the fuck is this man? What is he playing at? You close your eyes and succumb back into sleep.

You wake briefly and swear that you hear someone scream but you’re comfortable and warm and you don’t hear anything else so you roll over and fall back asleep.

When you wake again you have to go to the bathroom, you glance over at the button but don’t push it. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed you click on the little lamp you can hardly see on the side table on. The door to the bathroom is open and when you look down at your feet to assess if you want to walk on them you’re confused to see that they’ve been expertly wrapped in new bandages. You go to stand up when someone clears their throat from behind you and you let out a startled scream. Your wide eyed gaze meets his calm one.

“I had a feeling you might be stubborn.” Captain says from behind you. He’s sitting in an armchair you didn’t even know existed.

“What happened to my feet?”

“You cut them, trying to run from me.” He sounds confused by your question and you laugh softly.

“I mean this isn’t what they looked like when I went to sleep.”

“Ah, the Doctor came by and took a look at them. He said to keep them dry and wrapped for a few days.”

“Oh, okay.” You agree and he studies you, “what?”

“Was there somewhere you’d like to go?” He asks and you bite your lower lip.

“Bathroom please.” He better not think he’s staying in the room while you use the bathroom.

“I can do that.” He says standing then coming to your side, “I’ll set you down on your feet but you shouldn’t walk around okay?”

“Yes Captain.” He picks you up gently, then says,

“Steve.”

“What?”

“You call me Steve, not Captain.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to call me Steve.” He says simply as he sets you down so gently it’s like you’re made of glass. Your feet ache but you won’t complain, he’s done so much already, more than you’d have expected him to.

Tag list:

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#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #imagine steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #imagine captain america #steve rogers x reader au #steve rogers au #mob boss!steve rogers x reader #mob boss!steve rogers #avengers mob au #mob!steve #mob boss au

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ramp-it-up · 1 year

Text

I WONDER

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

Word count: 3.4 K.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So now I’m single?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Breathe, Baby.”

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

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

Or so he thought.

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

Steve knew that glint in your eye.

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

Steve ran his hand through his hair and backed up.

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

You stared hard at him, unrelenting. He continued.

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

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

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

And you had the nerve to smile back at him!

He cleared his throat.

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I come in?”

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

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

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

You shook your head and he raised his hand again.

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

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

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

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

“Steve…”

“Please let me finish.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You stop eating, I stop talking.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve… “

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

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

He took you in looking up at him like that.

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

Steve looked around the small apartment that was your home.

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

Your heart dropped as he let that sink in.

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

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

“One more thing.”

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

“Happy Belated Valentine’s Day.”

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

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

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

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

You bent down to pick them up.

They all read, I WONDER.

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

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

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

He didn’t need to think anymore.

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

Suddenly, Sam perked up.

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

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

“Too soon, Sam. I’m not in the mood.”

Sam’s eyes were focused behind Steve.

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

“Sam, I…”

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

“Looking good, Ambrosia!”

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

You tugged at the dress, a little uncomfortable.

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

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

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

He seemed a little jealous. It was hot.

“Wanna continue our conversation, Steve?”

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

Sam cleared his throat as Steve scanned the club.

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

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

“What are you doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ambrosia. This is nothing to play with.”

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

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

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

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

“Breathe, Baby.”

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

“What exactly are you here for, Ambrosia?”

You sat back, serious now.

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

“Baby, I…”

“My turn.”

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

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

Steve opened and closed his mouth, letting you continue.

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

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

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

You stared at Steve for a long time.

“I don’t want an out. I want you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Surer than sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy fuck.”

Steve slapped your thighs.

“Then why are these legs still closed?”

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

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

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

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

“It’s time you came up to my place.”

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

“I’d love to see it.”

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

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

“Interesting.”

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

“Touch yourself.”

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You chuckled.

“So I’ll never get a tour?”

Steve laughed too.

“You may be right.”

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

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

“My sweet petals. Long time no see.”

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

You huffed, indignant.

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

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

“Still so so tight…”

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

“Gotta get you ready for me.”

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

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

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

“Ambrosia, Ambrosia, Ambrosia….shittttt.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my goddddd.”

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

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

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

“Holy Shit, Ambrosia.”

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

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

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

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

Steve grunted.

“You saying you want my baby inside you?”

You moaned.

“It already is, Daddy.”

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

“What did you say?”

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

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

“How?”

You laughed at him.

“What do you mean, how?”

“I mean, when?”

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

“Were you going to tell me?”

Steve sat back on his haunches, his erection fading.

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

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

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

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

“Do you want this?”

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

Steve rutted into your hand.

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

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

“Ugh! So nasty...”

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

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

“Fuckkkk, Stevie.”

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

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

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

“What?”

“I’m just so happy.”

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

He chuckled, “Little Stevie Hunh?”

He kissed you again.

“All three.”

Steve stood up and grabbed your hand.

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

“Sounds like a plan, Mr. Rogers.”

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

That was a title for another day.

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