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neonovember · 1 year

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Just like Business

Steve rogers mafia!au

summary: with the fate of the underworld on your shoulders, your attempt to keep a low profile fails and instead, you make a deal with the king of Brooklyn himself.

warnings: violence, regular smugular mob talk, mentions of domestic violence

a/n: sorry it took so long for chapter 3 to come out, school has been up my ass lately and I lost half my draft. (I’ve also changed Diore’s name to Clementine because I'm playing twd)

The taste of stale wood catches on your tongue as you nervously chew on the end of your pencil, the Diner is slow today, and you've found yourself in the corner of the kitchen, tenuous forms spread out in front of you. The slowed trickle of patrons coming through the familiar jingle of the doors gave you enough time to fill those papers out before the seats do.

Knees to your chest, you ponder over what to write on the clearly dotted line named “Next Of Kin”. You watch as a man dribbles coffee down his white shirt, failing to catch the drops with a damp napkin as your mind remains a blank deserted canvas. Truth be told you didn’t have anyone you could call in an emergency, it was a bitter pill to swallow, even more so than the pencil between your teeth.

Clem was spending her allotted days off with her niece, mentioning how her erratic sister had dropped her off last night. You understood complicated families more than anything, it was what you lived and breathed for the better part of your adult life, but it meant the hours at work would drag on even further. Clementine was able to keep your mind off of everything, your escape, your husband, that man, that goddamn number. Your entire life was a scattered map of holes and ink spills, and it seems to follow you even on this side of Brooklyn, where eyes were always trained on your own shoes and you learned to keep to yourself.

Any other day you would have called in sick, without Clementine to help push the metaphorical hand to tick past your 9-hour shift. But you couldn’t bare the thought of remaining in that 3-foot room isolated and just waiting to be attacked. Your mental state was as fragile as ever, and you felt even the slightest scare would send you spiralling.

The target on your back grew bigger and bigger each day that went by with the threat of that man’s promise looming over your head. The crumpled napkin remained on your bedside table since that night, and you made no move to initiate the call. His patience was wearing thin, this you knew, but you didn’t have the guts, even now, to face the reality of what you had done.

Leaving the line blank you quickly fill the rest of the form, trying to tear your mind from thinking too hard at the prospect of having no one to rely on. All that was on your mind at the moment was the prospect of a dry winter, with a heater that worked and walls that weren't covered in mould. You hope the council would take your concerns seriously now that you had gained some stability, even as small as it was.

The jingle of the doors finally dragged you from your crouched position, collecting your papers you quickly shoved them under the counter before brushing away any creases on your apron.

The figure had seated themselves towards the end of the diner booths, away from any clear windows where they could be easily seen. Grabbing a menu you made your way past the many vacant booths before finally reaching their table.

It was a man, fairly built, with dark black hair moused from the light shower outside, he wore a deep maroon coat eerily similar to the man from earlier that week. He had deep grey eyes which would have been overshadowed by the curls of his hair falling in front of his eyes if they weren't so intense. His features were distinctly masculine, outlined by a sharp jaw that was littered with stubble, and his arms were outstretched across the booth's couches.

Transfixed by his features you had almost forgotten the menu between your fingers which was scarily close to slipping, he cleared his throat expectantly and you quickly placed the menu on the table.

“You got a staring problem or somthin?” The deep Brooklyn accent drew out as he enanuctaited his words, a smirk breaking through his stoic features but not quite reaching his eyes.

You swallowed thickly, looking down and attempting to avoid his grey orbs which seemed to remain at your face, he had a look like he was dissecting you, cutting you apart and looking into your soul.

“No-, No of course not, sorry. Uh, what would you like?” You choked out quickly, and you gripped your apron as he took notice of your apprehension. he could smell your fear, you could feel it.

He chuckles audibly, the sound sort of muffled behind it’s falsity. A relaxed expresiones seemed to ease the calculating look on his face just moments ago, as if he’s come to a conclusion.

“Your ma never taught you some manners?” He continues, this time however, his eyes are trained on the menu items, seeming to peruse through them thoroughly.

Your mother.

The thought of her and any expectant of motherly duties made you audibly laugh, causing the man to look up, eyebrows quirking at the chuckle leaving your mouth.

You cough quickly, attempting to hide your sudden outburst. It was just, there were a lot of words you could call that person, but a mother? That certainly wasn’t one of them.

You’d soon see hell freeze over before she’s ever act like a mother towards you, whilst your friends and classmates were taught how to braid their hair, or tie their shoes, or ride a bike, your mother, she, was out in the alleyways and prisms of her addiction.

You’d need a pick axe to get through the stone face she morphed into each time she walked through your childhood home. She wasn’t absent, always somewhere, she was just expression less. Like you’d drawn her with a broke crayon and coloured her outside the lines.

Shaking yourself from your past, the man’s eyes are fixed on you, confusion swirling through those grey orbs, before his lips lifted in a small smile.

Why did he look almost apologetic? You already had one strange man after you, did this god want to grant you with another?

“Coffee, black”. Said the man, folding the menu closed that was opened on desserts of the day.

You nodded, taking the menu from his grasp, before turning back towards the kitchen, the squeak of your trainers against the linemen floor.

Funny, he looked through the entire menu only to order a plain coffee, black at that. You’d hardly seen that order in a while, the iced latte-frappe-mocha obsession had taken over even the tiny diners like this one.

Another thing that’s seemed to change this week.

Making you way back to the kitchen, you quickly begin making his coffee. You weren’t particularly specialised at the art of making coffees, however his order seemed fairly straightforward.

Plus without Clem on today the diner was even more short staffed, and completing multiple jobs was expected.

Mind miles away, you almost spill the coffee grounds as you tamp them into the portafilter, attempting to replicate the steps you’ve seen Clementine do a thousand times.

Setting the espresso machine to brew, your able to shift your eyes towards the man in the corner, who’s now pulled out a silver phone and seemed to be in a heated conversation.

You knew that it was wrong to eavesdrop but god your brain would explode if you kept at this repeative mundanity of watching cars splash water violently against the diners windows.

You catch a couple words being exchanged, as the man roughly pushes his strands back into the low bun sitting low on his head.

“Steve, cmon, ya sure it’s her?,

“She don’t look like it that’s for sure”

“Robinson waiting on a package so I can’t stay long-, okay yeah, yeah I hear you, ya big head, don’t need to yell damn.” Mumbled the man exasperated.

He muffled his words into the cellphone as if he could tell you were eavesdropping and you quickly look away when you see him shift in his seat.

The espresso beeped as you pull the shot from under the machine, pouring it into a mug as you add 2 heaped teaspoons of sugar.

Stirring slowly you chance a glance from under hooded eyes, and expecting his broad shoulder and back towards you, instead his turned his shoulder, eyes staring directly toward you.

Taken back you shift your eyes back to the mug, fingers gripping the teaspoon tight as a attempt to pretend that he hasn’t unnerved

It seems to fail as the next time you look up his grinning, phone still pressed to his ear as he nods along with whatever they’re saying.

You question whether to bring it to him, the coffee, and just ask one of your other co workers, but you’ve already gone this far. Waitressing practically came with the packaged deal of sleazy men who couldn’t take a hint, it was depressing but you’ve gotten used to people disregarding your boundaries. You wouldn’t let some creepy yet incredibly attractive man scare you away from doing your job.

Appearing at the booth in almost an instant you place the ceramic mug infront of him. Murmuring his coffee, and not letting a second past before you attempt to escape, shoes squeaking at your hurry.

“Excuse me, Mrs” The man’s Brooklyn draw calls you however, the politeness falling from his red lips before he can help it. You freeze under the formality, fingernails digging into your palms.

Mrs? Mrs. You almost forgot that you were still a married women, it was something you kept hidden for a reason, the encrusted ring was hopefully rotting at the bottom of the hudsen.

And that was it, here, in Brooklyn, no one, no one knew you were with someone much less married, and yet this random man, who wasn’t quite a stranger knew. Hell he called you Mrs loud enough for the entire diner to hear.

To say you were shitting yourself was an understatement.

“Would you prefer ma’am, I hardly know these days” Chuckled the man unfazed by your trepidation, this was a sick game to him.

“How about you sit down and have a chat with me? Just 5 minutes of your time, all I’m asking” The man sing songs, acting as if he were pleading with you, however you noticed the demand laced under his tone. You understood a demand when you heard it.

Your back is still towards him, and your eyes shift to the diner door to the right, and, just as quickly the man reminds you of his loyalty.

“Look doll, I don’t wanna have to go to more extreme measures to find you again, so just sit down here with me before we both do something we regret” The man really pleads this time, he seems exhausted, like he really did look under every hole in New York.

You are are still fixated on the diner door, the paint chipping from its sides, and a dirty brown appearing at the foot of it from the rain coming through the sewers and onto the footpaths. You gulp down the crawling bile rising from your stomach before slowly turning around, each step causing a small breathe to escape from your chest.

You slide into the booth just as the man reaches for his cup, sipping it slowly as he eyes to intensely.

“Atta girl, now was that so hard?” He finally replies, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

Your hands, you don’t know what to do with them, they’ve begun to dig painfully into your palm and you quickly shove them under the table when they begin to shake.

The man watches them carefully, his brows furrowing in confusion as if he didn’t expect you to be so goddamn meek and weak.

God. You’re so fucking weak it’s pitiful

“Look, I’m not going to keep you long, alright? I personally don’t like dragging out a girl like this but orders are orders ya know?” The man rambles, not waiting for you to answer him before he continues.

His eyes shift back and forth, down the diner aisles and across the vacant seats, he leans in, and from a distance it looks as if you two are both lovers on a night out. Huddled against each other from the harsh downpour outside and warmed the the love in the air and the longing in your eyes. The soft glow of the ceiling above casting a eerie romantic feel similar to days before.

“He knows your avoiding him, and in all honesty, this is the longest his gone before going out himself and getting what he wants” The man replies, dark greys watching your slumped posture against the booth coaches.

You’d hoped he’d just given up, the hours going by as you waited for your doors to come slamming down but it never did. It was stupid, you knew this, you didn’t get lucky in this world, but a small part of you had hoped so hard that he just saw you for what you always were; ordinary. Mundane and colloquial, the blurry face in a crowd, the person you always forgot and the name you never quite remembered.

You chest cave in at the truth of the reality you were forced into, you didn’t even care at this point, as your exhausted body rested against the booth, fingers rubbing your tired eyelids.

“What does he even want with me? I don’t know who you are, but you look like your smart enough to know how utterly useless I would be to whatever plan hes drawn up”. You reply

“I don’t even know anything about..about..that world!” you gulp as he looks towards you expectantly. You don’t even know what to call it, the underworld? The mafia? Criminal organisations? Which one would least likely get you killed?

“He kept me out of pretty much all of it, okay? He never let me enter even parts of the house to keep me ignorant and obedient. Couldn’t let the wife know about the 17 year old boy I tossed into the sewers right? Isn’t that what you men do?” You reply heated, spitting the accusation in disgust.

Your words don’t faze the man, and it’s then down you consider what he must’ve already heard and seen a hundred times, this was normal to them, this was life to them, this was making a black coffee to them.

“His not gonna hurt you, if that’s what your scared o-“ The man says, and you cut him off quickly

“Oh trust me, getting hurt is the least of my worries, I’ve gotten a lot of practice” You laugh morbidly, as he looks at you strangely, his eyes peek at the healing bruises on your arm and you tough your sweater down self consciously.

“I don’t doubt it, Matthews is ruthless, and I’ve got to hand it to you, your a real fucking smart one for being able to escape him of all people. But let’s me realistic here, you and i both know what this world is like, sure you’ve made it out, but how long do you really thing you’ll be able to be ahead, to keep up with this on the run shit?” The man reasons, adding more sugar packets to his coffee, before stirring it slowly.

You remain silent as you take in his reasoning, he’s not wrong, soon or later you’d burn out and do something stupid and get caught. You were born in the suburbs for fucks sake, you weren’t some Russian spy.

“All I’m saying is that Matthews is pretty fucking powerful, the type of power where he can get your friends and boss here to offer you up to him on a silver plate. There’s no loyalty when you’re living pay check my pay check, or when you’ve got to put food on the table. The only loyalty then is one written in blood, or bank checks” The man says, winking at the last part.

“We can help, keep him off your scent for a while, until you can get out of here at least” the man says gesturing around the diner and the City itself.

That was the ultimate plan though wasn’t it? To get out of America? Maybe move to a tropical climate where your skin met the warm sun instead of bloody fists. Something was keeping you here, and you spent years trying to understand what.

“By protection you mean surveillance that goes over every single human boundary ever created” You grumbled hands now crossed against your chest.

The man nods honestly,

“More or less, at least then you’ll get some sleep” The man replies, pointing out the bags hanging under your eyes.

“Well how am I supposed to do that when I’ve got him watching me every single minute of the day” You snap, before your eyes widen in shock. You didn’t meant to get angry, least of all at the man who probably has a pistol between in his waistband.

You wait for the man to scream, to feel his rough fingers around your throat, or the bruising force of his fists. It never comes, instead he laughs, fucking laughs.

It’s authentic, the way the baritone sounds leaves his chest ceremoniously, a hand gripping his chest and his curls fall in front of his face at his movements.

It’s beautiful and from the moment it leaves his mouth you love it. But he laughs, the most innocent thing in the entire world and you flinch. You fucking flinch.

You already know he notices it as he stops his chuckles, hands coming to press against his brows, and running down his scalp to brush his strands back.

“He’s coming, later on, to pick you up and take you back to your apartment, don’t fight me on it or else it’s my ass on the line” The man finalises, before reaching out with an expectant hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you..?” He says expectantly

You mumble your name tiredly and you grip his hand, shaking it.

“Bucky” The man’s nods, before getting up from the booth.

“Your got to be something to have Steve acting like this, and for your sake, youd better hope it’s fucking spectacular” The man says, before shelving over a couple dollar bills.

“Keep the change” The man calls before exiting through the diner doors, engulfed by the darkness cloud of fog and rain, the cool city air escaping into the warm diner behind him.

You look down at the coffee mug sitting like warm across from you, still filled to the brim and left un drunken, the only indication of his presence.

You sigh as you get up from your seated the position, the booth warm from your time spent talking. You look towards the clock, signalling you’ve spent well over 30 minutes with the man, and you turn to expect your manager tumbling down the isles to find you and demand answers to your absence.

But instead, her head is down, the deep auburn braids peeking from under the counter. Weird, she’s never not taken up the chance to berate your very presence, and instead she’a jotting down inventory records.

You don’t want to believe it but you know it’s connected to the man that was just here moments ago, or more specifically the man from earlier this week.

Collecting the bills left on the table, you place them into the cash register, before going to clear away his plates. This was going to be a long night.

You try not to notice the headlights shining through the blinds of the diner windows, or even the roar of an engine pulling up onto the front of the restaurant as you jot down the last of the young man’s order.

You were just about to close when a group of drunken but good natured college boys walked, or more like stumbled in.

You weren’t mad in any way, at least it gave your mind something to occupy itself with instead of conversation between you and Bucky from earlier.

Yelling the orders at Daniel, his brown hair bobbing to his stereo, your met with his thumbs up popping out of the bustling kitchen. You giggle to yourself at his antics, if you had to rely on one thing of normalcy in your life it was Daniel.

The familiar jingle of the diner door has you bristling, the note of between your hands crinkle as your hands grip them anxiously. You don’t know why your scared, it isn’t like you hadn’t been warned.

The man loud steps seem to purposeful against the floor of the crumbling diner, he’s incredibly out of place against the old fashioned terriselss and red and white booths. Even the drunken crows notices him, eyes surveying his expensive coat and shiny boots, before quickly looking away as the catch glimpses of his rings and blond tussles.

You pretend to occupy yourself with refilling straw and napkin dispensers, wiping down the tables that were already shining and keeping your head and most importantly your eyes, away from the tall brooding man.

You catch the front of his dress shoes pointed towards your crouched frame over the diner table. He clears his throat loudly when he notices you make no move to acknowledge his present.

“You’re a tough girl to catch aren’t you?” Is the first thing the man says in that deep gruff voice of his. His words seem sweetened like he’s said them behind a smile.

“No, not at all, I’m just..busy” You reply, leaning over further to wipe the cloth against the sides of the booth.

Steve hums, hands stuffed into his suit pants as he watches you carefully

“You sure? From where I’m at it seems like you’re..avoiding me” Steve says

“Well it’s kind of hard to get the courage to phone up a likley criminal mastermind that probably has connections to my husband and who would undoubtedly deliver me to him if given the right number.” You reply hastily.

Steve moves quickly to catch your hands, stopping your movements as he turns you towards his towering figure looming over you.

“I wouldn’t do that, I wouldn’t ever hurt you, you have to trust me” Steve says, a strange look you can’t place takes over his features, the frost behind his blues melt a little and his jaw relaxes before it leaves just as quickly. A hardened expression resting on his face again, and Steve drops your hands, where they rest folded at your stomach.

“How can I?, I’m sorry but I don’t even know you, and if I let another man take me, I’ll, I won’t ever forgive myself” You bristle.

Steve looks far off, blue orbs darkening at your candor as he watches the lights of cars flash against the frosted windows.

“Just let me help you, I’m sure Bucky told you why I’m here, and I’ve gone to lengths I can’t even mention to even speak to you” Steve says

“Why? I’m not special, I just don’t understand why someone like you would do with the likes of me” You reply exasperated, flinching as a David calls the order out.

“I have my reasons, reasons I can’t say right now but can only be explained if you let me take you home” Steve murmurs, you noticed a concerned look take over his features for a second, before the seriousness of this “deal” remains.

“And only if I accept your help” You say, you knew this world through and through, everything had a “but” and a catch. This wouldn’t be any different, would it?

Steve nods honestly, and you turn to throw the dirty wash cloth into the basin behind the counter.

“ I ain’t got long doll, let’s get going” Steve replies impatiently, you understood from your conversation with Bucky earlier that Steve was a man that always got what he wanted. There was little room for negotiation with the blond but you would be damned to make Daniel walk the plate he’d just slaved over to the crowd of huddled 21 year olds.

“Let me finish this order will you? If I’m getting into an unmarked vehicle to lead to my possible death, atleast let me get some good tips” You reply, and for the first time, Steve looks anywhere but you, noticing the huddle of hungry and slightly sober boys.

“Okay, okay” Steve replies acting defeated, as he sits on a barstool across from the counter. Eyes watching your mundane movements of service and food handling, and yet no saying a single word.

You juggle multiple plates, brushing off Steve’s attempts to help and successfully deliver them to the patrons, who gleefully thank you loudly. Slurring praises of Jesus, and Hallelujah, as they shovel waffles and fried chicken into their mouths.

Drunk college boys, either your best or worst nightmare.

Steve doesn’t let you clear their plates as he stands expectantly, you catch his eyes blaring into your manager from the corner of your peripheral. His face hardens into something like stone, and it’s as if his exchanged something without saying a word.

Your manager nods, walking back into the office, your bag is waiting for you on the counter and you reach for it before Steve is grabbing it instead. A hand coming up to silence your protests.

You follow his foot steps without a word, eyes looking back at your manager who’s staring right at you, a grim look on a face that screams pity. Like watching a lamb being carried to the slaughter, or more like willingly walking in.

You don’t know what Steve has told her, or not told her, but it seems he has more power than you first realised, your boss never let you off early, sure she’s let you take a day off but leaving early? Never. You’d had to be bent of and heaving before she’s pay you for half the shift.

It scares you, you don’t quite know what your walking into following this man, the the truth of its danger follows you like a shadow, every step pressed into the floor by blood and crime is a step you fall into.

You’re staining yourself with whatever it is he is knee deep in, even if you don’t want to believe it.

Steve opens the diner doors gently, letting you pass his chest, as he flips the open side the opposite side. A sleek black car comes into view on the sidewalk, it’s branded with a logo you don’t recognise but you understand it’s expensive, the kind of car where they give you shampgane when you buy it.

You don’t know why but you don’t see Steve as a man who would willingly drink champagne, the image of him holding a flute has you fighting back giggles, no, he was most defiantly the time to like bourbon or some other old fashioned liquor.

Opening the passenger door, you take a moment to look back at the diner, the low warm lights giving it a sense of home that you never found at your apartment. The crowd of boys are now singing unabashedly, stale and oily fries left on messy plates.

You hated it but it was the best thing that ever happened to you..since, well, since forever. It was gruelling and tough and not half the amount of work it took but it was yours wasn’t it? It was something you earned and kept only for you, that pay check was written in your name, not your mothers, not your husbands, yours.

Atleast you got a taste of what freedom would be like, a small glimmer of what you could’ve been if happened, hadn’t.

The inside of Steve’s car is even more opulent than its exterior, blue lighting outlining the inside of the car, and tinted windows hiding you from view.

“As much as you think you useless and naive to the word, the truth is, you're the closest thing to Richedson in his life, not his right-hand man, not his best friend, not me, you. Hell, practically half the underworld didn't even know he was married for the better part of 2 years”. Steve murmurs, one hand on the steering wheel whilst the other lay rested on his thigh.

“He was embarrassed by me” You shrugged, it was the truth, even Steve knew it.

“No, I don't think so, I think he was scared that you would get hurt” Steve replies, eyes remaining on the gravel road as he followed the route to your apartment like the back of his head. It should scare you, but it doesn't, and that, that scares you.

“He couldn't care less of me, much less try and protect me from the world he married me into. Besides, whatever cruelty he tried to shield me from, he already exposed me to it himself” You reply hastily, turning your body so that you faced the door, eyes boring into the concrete sky scrapes flashing mirages against the tinted windows.

As if sensing your apprehension, Steves recognises to drop it and instead tries to tell you the reasons from earlier.

“The throne your husband sits on grants him a lot of power, enough to have half of New York at their knees. And with him as unstable as he is, it would lead to more people getting hurt, and most importantly this realm, this life, ripped open for the world to see” Steve says

“He's always been unstable, you of all people should know that” You reply, scoffing. The cracks in your husband's mind enable him to get to where he was today, it enabled him to look past the shackles of morality that kept so many from reaching their full potential as he would say.

“Not like this, no not the way he's behaving now, there's traditions and sacrifices you have to make to survive in this life, that I understand, but the cracks that have always been in him are starting to show, they're starting to crumble the things me and so man other people have built. He's going off the rails, and this time I don't think even you can reel him in” Steve reasons, turning into your apartment car pack with the palm of his hand in one swift turn.

You bristle as that, your husband has always been off, you'd noticed it the first time and you'd accepted it the last, but at least he was always predictable with the lengths he would go to for more power, more authority, more money.

“You're saying the killings could get worse? The blood? The death? You're saying he could get worse?” You say exasperated, your eyebrows furrow as you wait for Steve to reply. You didn't think he could get worse.

Running a hand down his face, Steve roughly pulls his strands back behind his ears before choosing his words carefully.

“I can't say much that won't get you killed, but he's spiralling, and he’s going to take us all down with him unless we do something unless you do something”. Steve says, pushing the hand break up as he turns to you.

You shut your eyes, squeezing them as you slump against the leather seats. Your mind wrestled as it took in all of this, even now, you would never escape your husband? Wouldn't you? Did the fate of the underworld really rest on your shoulders? You want to say no, to jump out of the car and run back to the safety of your apartment but you can't stop the flashes of the 17-year-old boy whose screams still haunted you all these years later. He would've been 21 now, likely to have walked into your diner with those boys from earlier, and most importantly alive, not buried in a shallow grave.

“Okay,” You mutter quietly, so quietly that if Steve didn't have those golden ears of his he would've missed it.

“Okay? You sure?” Steves asks again to make sure he's heard you correctly.

“Okay. Okay ill tell you what I know in exchange for protection. This is what it is right? Purely transactional?” You reply, expectantly.

Steve nods following your words, bringing his palm up to shake your own. It's surprisingly soft, his fingers, like the death and cruelty of his actions, haven't yet spoiled them.

“Just like a business” Steve mutters sparing a glance at you, the same strange expression from before, you both hold onto the grasp longer than a handshake should be. And you find yourself dropping it suddenly, before rubbing your hands against your thigh.

You reach behind the seats, grab your bag and reach for the car door, before Steve’s rough warning stops you, the deep don’t bounce off the car roof and jostles you in your sleep. You know he cants help it, but you catch glimpses of the mafia king just in that one word. You understand what he's able to to, what he's done to get here and most importantly what he’d do if you don't agree.

Steve walks around the car, before opening the door for you, you look down self-consciously.

“You know you don't have to do all that, open doors and stuff,” You say, following his steps to your apartment door.

You had never been the recipient of chivalry. You didn't get to experience the soft, innocent love everyone else did in high school, skipping straight into marriage with a mafia boss. It was pathetic now that you think about it, but you'd never been romanced, much less felt what love could be.

“I know,” Steve says, hands shoved into his pockets, but you don't let him finish speaking before you continue your heated ramble.

“I mean it, I'm not some prissy princess who needs to have her hand held every minute,” You say, searching for your keys at the bottom of your bag, before struggling to open your door.

The lock always seemed to jam wherever you tried to enter your apartment, to the point where you had to shoulder your way into your hallway to get in.

Steve reaches for the keys between your fingers, pushing it into the lock and opening the door with ease. His fingers didn't even seem to strain as slammed the door against your wall.

Looking up through hooded eyes, you catch his blues darken as he looks down, your face chest centimetres away from his chest,

“I know, trust me doll, I know” He whispers to you, and you have to pull your eyes away before moving past him, plopping your belongings onto your velvet couch.

Steve leans against the door frame, his tall length seems almost comical compared to the height of your living space, you were sure he'd have to duck to even enter.

You don't want him to enter, do you?

“Just get some sleep, ill swing by later to iron out the formalities” Steve replies, watching you carefully.

Stepping out of your high heels, you snort, calling loudly with your back to him

“Just like business!” You say with your back to him, untying your apron covered in oil and spills.

Steve smiles, amusement lighting up his features as he nods, leaning against the door

“Just like business” He mutters, before shutting the door, and making his way down the crumbling concrete steps.

He steps into the sleek black vehicle that looks out of place against the beat-up Toyota Camry that’s never left, and the busted bike with stolen tires.

You don't notice, but Steve only pulls out when he's sure you've done exactly what he's said, your figure behind pulled curtains scurrying around your room, causing a small smile to pull at his lips.

And he doesn't notice, or at least you think he doesn't, as you peer through yellow curtains, watching his car recede into the distance, the winter moon was now high in the sky, casting a light for his route as the engine of his car roared against the asphalt roads.

This was it, you'd just made a deal with the devil, and you were already elbows deep. You wonder which one would've killed you faster? Being on the run, or being tied up in his twisted games, falling into the depth of Steve Rogers before it swallowed you whole.

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navybrat817 · 5 months

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" Scraping their teeth over your neck to have a shiver of arousal run down your spine. "

With Bucky. 🥺

This probably didn't go the way anyone wants, nonnie, and I'm sorry!

Give Me a Name

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Tension, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, pet names, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Because who doesn't want a mob boss obsessed with them? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Today was a not-so-friendly reminder that mistakes in your job weren’t so easy to fix. You had been in pursuit of a target for weeks and finally managed to catch him. The rookie agent, however, didn’t secure the cuffs and the bastard managed to get a hard hit in when he broke free. The dizziness from the blow was enough to let him get away.

The rookie went after him, but you knew he wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to start all over with tracking him and you didn’t even get a chance to go home to lick your wounds. Not when Bucky’s men showed up and put you in a car.

You should’ve known they were close by.

“I can walk!” You argued minutes later when they brought you to the Barnes mansion. The mob boss had a few homes, but this one had been in the family for years. He had invited you here before, but never took you by force.

Until today.

The men carefully arranged you on a leather sofa in the den before one of them went to get their boss. He hadn’t left the room before the door flew open, the very man he went to find standing there with a look thunderous enough to kill. He snatched something out of one of his soldier’s hands before he went to you, no one daring to speak a word.

You held your breath as you glanced at Bucky. He had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up as he assessed you, the veins in his arms popped out as he clenched his fists. He was built like a soldier with his massive frame, his life story told in the tattoos and scars that adorned his covered skin. The notorious crime lord more than earned his reputation and he promised he’d tell you his story himself one day.

Today wouldn’t be that day.

He brushed some of his long hair from his eyes before crouching down beside you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he dabbed at your cheek with the cloth. He stopped when you winced, but you gave him a small smile to let him know he could continue. You didn’t expect tenderness from such a rough man, but you were different to him, weren’t you? You had been since the two of you crossed paths some time ago. Why?

What made you so special?

“Who did this to you?” He asked in a low voice. You could hear that he tried to keep the raging storm inside of him, but his icy eyes showed you everything. The growing fury was bound to come out. Who would he destroy in his path to sate the beast?

“Bucky. I’m fine,” you croaked as you tried to sit up more, but he stopped you from moving. “The guy got lucky and it isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. Just let me get back to work,” you said.

You noticed most of the men nearby avoided eye contact when you looked around. They had every reason to be afraid. James Buchanan Barnes was downright terrifying when crossed.

And crossing you was a worse offense in his eyes.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, though he didn't raise his voice. “Tell me his fucking name so I can take care of it.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. If you did, he’d kill him. No, he’d torture him first. Likely for days on end before he begged for death. And you needed him alive.

That was your job.

Yet, you could never find it in yourself to bring Bucky in.

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

You froze at the cold tone before you realized Bucky didn’t direct that statement at you. One of his men standing feet away turned his head to the side because he got caught staring. You should’ve known better. Whatever cat and mouse game you and the mob boss were playing, it was for him to catch you in his trap, but never hurt you.

Not when he wanted to keep you.

“I’m sorry, boss,” the man promised, his tone wavering when Bucky reached for one of his pistols. “I-”

“‘Cause I’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back if you glance at her again,” he promised. He was a man of his word. “Leave us. All of you. Now.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” you assured him as they filed out. The men were dangerous, but you weren’t about to let him shoot the poor guy for looking your way.

“It isn't okay. Someone put their hands on you,” he nearly growled, the soft touch to your cheek a stark contrast to his voice. “You think I can let that go? I can’t. I won’t.”

You brought a hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. His eyes shut for a moment and grabbed your wrist before you could pull away. He dragged your fingers through the short beard along his jaw, like he was starved of your touch and needed more. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him.

Not when you belonged in different worlds.

“You don’t have to ‘avenge’ me, Bucky, because I’m not yours,” you said carefully. Were you telling him for his sake or yours? “Let it go. Please.”

The storm continued to rage in his eyes when he opened them and you wondered who would win the battle of the wills. You held your breath again when he moved close, the scent of his woodsy cologne making your head spin. Instead of brushing his lips against yours, he brought his mouth to your neck. Scraping his teeth over your pulse, you couldn’t stop the shiver of arousal that moved down your spine.

“You are mine, Kisa,” he whispered, giving your neck another nip as you tried not to whimper. “And I’m going to find out who did this whether you tell me or not. And I’m going to kill him.”

Your heart shouldn’t have raced faster at his declaration. “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”

“You are home,” he replied, pulling away and looking into your eyes so you could see how serious he was. “And I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest in my bedroom.”

You shuddered because you both knew you wouldn’t get a wink of rest if he took you to bed. And if you slept with him, there would be no turning back. “You can’t keep me prisoner here, Winter.”

The cold and ruthless man who only wanted you.

“You’re not my prisoner, Kisa,” he said, pressing his lips softly to your pained cheek. “But I’m never letting you go.”

He’d prove that to you.

I don't know about you lovelies, but I kind of love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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vxntagedior · 1 year

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protector

summary | the moment bucky fell in love with you

pairing | mob!bucky barnes x fem!reader

warning | angst, arranged marriage, age gap, insecurity, violence, fluff ending

word count | 1.5k

You didn’t know anyone in that room. Staying flanked to Bucky’s side, letting him parade you around the room as he talked with the other men he did business with. It wasn’t no secret about what Bucky did, it was how you married him.

Being the only child, and along with being a girl, your father wanted someone to pass down his business to, though offering it to you first, declining immediately because you couldn’t be a part of the mob, Bucky was next pick.

Bucky came from his own lineage, his own family wealth, already the boss of his family business and now the head of yours. After getting married, you moved into his family estate, far from your father and mother, but having the little words of encouragement from your mother made it a little better.

“If he ever hurts you physically or mentally, his reputation be damned, I’ll get you out of there.”

Bucky was the opposite of what you expected, he was respectful towards you since the wedding, making sure to put your comfort first even though your marriage was purely transactional.

Your parents' relationship was the same, but your mother grew to love your father, and the way he worshiped her made her safe. You wanted that one day with Bucky.

Giving a small smile to all the people you passed, there were a few men murmuring to each other about your relationship, some of the women glaring at you, all the same looks you received once you were married.

It wasn’t no secret Bucky was handsome, powerful and wealthy, the whole package to women in the room, and they were envious, a little jealous.

Bucky’s arm was around your waist, squeezing you occasionally, reminding you that he was still looking out for you. Coming up to a group of men, Bucky slid his hand away from you, shaking the hand of everyone.

“And you all know my wife.” He smiled, reattaching his arm. Smiling behind your champagne glass, you just nodded, glancing over each other before your eyes widened.

Brock Rumlow.

Brock was originally supposed to marry you, but once your father heard about what he had done to a business partner's daughter, he cut ties with him. You remembered Brock in your father’s office, the two of them yelling back and forth, hiding behind a pillar, seeing him storm out the estate.

Looking out of the corner of his eye, Bucky noticed how you tensed you quickly, looking down at the ground, keeping that in his head, he whisked the two of you away.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was rough, turning so he could fully look at you.

“It’s nothing.” You shook your head, not wanting to ruin his night. Bucky just looked at you, but you kept up your wall, “It’s fine, I just thought I saw something.”

Bucky knew you were lying but he wasn’t going to demand you to tell him, just nodding, “You tell me anything if somethings wrong, I don’t care.”

You just nodded, agreeing with him.

Sitting down for dinner, happy that the two of you had a table to yourselves, but seeing as everyone was looking at the two of you, mostly you, waiting for your next move, like they were waiting for you to do something wrong.

“Don’t worry about them.” Bucky whispered, “They’re just envious of you.”

That made you calm down a little bit, finishing up your dinner, making your way towards the stage.

Watching Bucky walk up, you smiled, clapping loudly for him. Standing on the edge of the room, you stayed out of eyesight from everyone, well almost everyone.

Brock had been watching you since the moment you walked in with Bucky. He knew it was you that messed up the arrangement, watching as Bucky came in at the 11th hour, taking all of it from him.

“Well, well, finally alone Mrs. Barnes.” Tensing up at his voice, you tried to get away from Brock, not being past enough, him grabbing onto your upper arm dragging you away.

“Let me go!, stop!” You tried to yell but it seemed like Bucky’s speech was ending, and as everyone started to clap, it canceled out your plea for help.

“Shut up, you bitch!” He shoved you against the wall, cornering you. Turning your face away from him, your arm starting to bruise, tears starting to cascade down your cheeks. “You ruined my life!”

“What?” You didn’t understand what he had been saying. Scoffing, Brock brought his hand to your face, smacking you across the face. Letting out a gasp, your hand instantly came up to your cheek, cradling.

“BUCKY!” You tried to yell, some sound coming out before Brock covered your mouth. You knew what he was capable of, your eyes wide, pleading for him to let you go.

“You know,” He smirked, his other hand slowly creeping up your leg, “I always wanted something from Barnes, his fortune, but I think I got a better prize tonight.”

Before anything could go further, Bucky had been looking for you since he was on stage, remembering where you were standing, seeing how you were gone. Scanning the room again, he saw how Brock was also gone, assuming the worst.

Ending his speech early, he darted off the stage, making his way towards the back of the gala, hearing you call for him.

“BUCKY!”

Eyes wide, Bucky followed the sound of your voice, running down one of the empty hallways, seeing you at the end of it. Seeing red, Bucky stormed towards Brock, shoving him off you, slamming him into the wall.

“You piece of shit.” He spit at him, his forearm pressing against neck, Brock gasping for air, “You think you come here and mess with my wife.”

“C’mon Barnes, she was asking for it.” He smirked. Bucky’s eyes hardened, stepping away from Brock, before swinging a punch to his face.

You gasped, your hands covering your mouth, not knowing what to do, if you should pull Bucky off him or go call for help, both a bad idea.

Standing there helpless, you watched as Bucky punched Brock til the point he was unconscious.

Standing up, wiping the blood from his nose, Bucky turned back to you, seeing the two bruises on you.

“Are you bleeding?” His hands were soft on your cheek, caressing the bruise carefully, not wanting to hurt you anymore.

“No.” You whispered, “But it hurts a lot.”

Saying nothing more, Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulder, bringing you to the car, forgetting about the gala all together.

“We can’t leave.” You protested.

“Your hurt, nothing is more important.” He stated, leaving no room for you to argue. Letting you hold his hand the entire way home, your thumb slightly moved over his bruised knuckles, touching it softly like he did when he held your cheek.

Driving in the estate, barely bringing the car into park, Bucky was already out the door, coming to your side, bringing you into the bathroom.

Pulling out the first aid and medical equipment he had, setting you up on the bathroom counter, Bucky rummaged through it all.

“Nothing’s gonna make it go away.” You whispered, not wanting to get him mad, “It’ll go away on its own eventually.”

You didn’t know what caused it, but watching him freeze, his head still looking down, you heard him let out a sob.

“Bucky.” You said cautiously. Looking up at you, tears now in his eyes, Bucky couldn’t help but apologize.

“I’m sorry.” He choked, “I’m so sorry.”

Wrapping his arms around you, Bucky cried onto your dress, his head pressed against your chest. Not really knowing what to do, you slowly cradled his head in your arms, running your hair through his hair.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, pulling him away from you, wiping away his tears. “I never told you about it and you were protecting me, that’s all I could ever do for you.”

It was like a lightbulb in both of your heads had clicked, looking into his eyes, before looking down at his lips before looking up at him again. Bucky seemed to have the same idea, slowly leaning in.

The kiss was soft, your hands still on his face, slowly moving your lips in sync with his. Pulling away, you rested your forehead onto his, smiling softly. That kiss was the first one since you were married and had been better than you imagined.

Letting out a watery laugh, Bucky stood between your legs, his hands on your waist. “I wanted to do that for so long.”

“Really.” You whispered, you always thought Bucky never really thought about a romantic relationship with you.

“And I know that we haven’t really been a married couple, and I didn’t want to pressure you into anything, letting you take the first steps. I know that I wasn’t your first choice, but I promise you, I will always make sure you’re okay, you are my number 1 priority, I didn’t marry you for your father’s chair, I married you because I knew that I could see a family with you.”

Smiling, you caressed his cheek, sighing softly. “I love you.”

Bucky always believed that he didn’t have a heart, he didn’t have any love in his body, never imagining he’d be married let alone being married to one of the most wonderful women he had ever met.

“I love you too, my love, with my whole being.”

fin.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x wife!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes x wife!reader #bucky barnes #mafia!bucky

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buckys-wintersoldier · 1 month

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Dinner with the mobster | Bucky Barnes

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Mob!Single!Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Your boss - who is also the most feared man in town - asks you to go out for dinner with him. When he suggests to take his daughter with him, you agree to go out with them.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 2.295

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (G) none, just fluff

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> Hi I absolutely love your work. I was wondering if you could write a mob boss! Single dad!Bucky Barnes x reader. Feel free to ignore if it makes you uncomfortable. Thank you 🤎🤎

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you so much for your nice words, they really mean a lot and thank you for the sweet request. I wanted to write more for Mob!Bucky and your request was the perfect opportunity to do so. I hope you like what I made with it.🩷🩷 Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> AFG Fluff Bingo | Row Two-One | First Date | @anyfandomfluffbingo

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

James Buchanan Barnes, the most popular mobster in town, has at least one hundred men who are protecting him and another one hundred men as well as women who clean his house, cook for him, or do other chores. His house - his villa - near the forest is almost not even in town anymore. The man could have every woman, and almost every woman admires him. He has long brown hair, mostly tied into a bun; his beard is trimmed; he has ocean blue eyes; and he has a smile that could light up the darkest night. James has a muscular body, is tall, and is just the dream of every woman. But even though he could have it all, he lives with his daughter alone. But he has an eye on someone, someone who doesn’t look really interested in him, which slightly confuses him but makes her more interesting for the mobster.

“Daddy, look what I found,” his princess says with a proud smile, holding up a book in her hands.

He furrows his eyebrows, his legs spread, while he sits on his couch and waits for the woman he asked to come into his office. In his hand, he holds a glass of his favorite Bourbon while he looks at his daughter. She walks closer to him, pushing herself up to sit on his lap before she holds the book closer to his face. James reads the title on it and smirks.

“That’s the book your friends - my employees - wrote into, isn’t it?” he asks with a smirk.

He told all his closest employees to write into the book after his princess was sad about having just four people - next to her - written into it. Those people were James, Sam, Steve, and Natasha. And then she asked her daddy if he knew if some more who wanted to write into it. Of course she also has friends, but the little girl prefers the big men around her, commanding them around like her daddy does, and he enjoys seeing his well-working education.

“Do you wanna see it?” she asks, kissing her daddy’s cheek softly.

The small girl looks like James - just the smaller, female version - but she has the same brown hair, ocean blue eyes, and the same smirk and pout on her lips as her daddy.

“But just until Y/N is here,” James says, and he turns his daughter around.

With his hands wrapped around her tummy, he looks over her shoulder. Her small back is pressed against his broad chest. Then she opens the book and waits for her daddy to start reading. James does, and his princess is always telling him something about the pictures before he can turn to the next side.

After a few minutes, it knocks at the door, and he looks up to see you standing there, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. You play with your fingers, looking down, while you just stand there and wait for James to give you instructions.

“I- I can- I’m sorry for distracting you,” you mumble when your nervousness grows.

“No, it’s fine. I asked you to come here, so please come in,” he says with his rough voice, and you shiver slightly.

When you met him for the first time, he was scary, and being so close to such a dangerous man can still be scary, but he is all soft and sweet around you and makes you feel like you are special to him. Little do you know you’re special to him, and he would buy the whole town, the moon, or the whole universe for you just to see your smile and hear you laughing while he is the reason for it.

James leans closer to his daughter, kissing her cheek before he lifts her off his lap and places her in front of him.

“Tell Uncle Stevie he has to give you some cookies,” James says, laughing when he sees his daughter jumping around with a giggle before she runs out of the room.

His ocean blue eyes then meet you again, and he gets off the couch as well. James walks closer to the door, gripping the doorknob while he waits for you to walk into the room to close the door behind you. It makes you a bit uncomfortable to be all alone with him in a room, but you know you’re safe.

“Wanna drink something, Bourbon? It’s a good one, my favorite bourbon.”

“N-no, thank you. I- Uhm- I’m fine, really,” you mumble.

You could face palm yourself when you realize what you just said. He didn’t want to know more, just if you wanted to have a drink. You inhale deeply while he leads you to the couch. When the two of you are taking a seat, he smiles and turns his head toward you.

“Do you have any plans for tonight?”

“N-no. I can take care of your daughter when you have plans for tonight.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he laughs softly and takes a sip of his bourbon. “More like, do you have time to go out with me?”

Your mouth drops open, and you swallow hard, rubbing your palms over your pants to dry the sweat.

“I- You’re my boss, James,” you say quietly, turning your head away.

He chuckles softly and slides his hand to your back, stroking it softly while he takes another sip of his bourbon. The shiver along your spine makes him grin even more, and the way your body reacts to his touch lets him admire you even more.

“I’m not asking you, actually. Babydoll, let me take you out, please.”

“I-I don’t want to overstep boundaries. I- James, I should go back to my room,” you mumble.

Bucky chuckles; the way his body vibrates against yours sent another shiver along your spine. His thumb moves closer to your lips before he slides it over them, making you gasp. Your boss is so close, you can feel his hot breath on your skin; his touches are like electricity, causing more goosebumps all over your skin. Bucky leans closer, his lips almost touching your ear, inhaling your scent before he kisses your earlobe.

“How about we take Mia with us? You love her, and she loves you.”

None of the two of you mentioned that there are feelings between you and Bucky. You nod softly, but he sees it and smiles, kissing your earlobe again. Then he pulls away.

“I will pick you up in an hour,” he says, getting up, and you follow.

The two of you walk to the door. He opens it and runs his fingers over your back before you walk out of the room and to yours to change into something better to go out with your boss.

Like he told you, he is knocking at your door an hour later, wearing a suit - like always - his cologne all around you, and you smile softly when you look into his beautiful face. His brown hair is tied back, and he holds the tiny hand of his daughter. She is smiling at you as well as her daddy, both admiring you in your dress. Bucky in another way as the girl, but they both can’t get their eyes off of you. Bucky clears his throat and takes a step to the side, letting you walk out of the room.

“You look beautiful, doll.”

You blush, scratching the back of your neck.

“Daddy said we gonna go to my favorite restaurant,” she tells you with a proud smile.

You’re still not pretty sure what to say or how to act since your boss has invited you to go out with him. So you smile nicely and walk with him and Mia to the cars in the garage.

Bucky is a gentleman, opening the door for you, making sure you’re comfortable, but always taking care of his daughter too.

When you arrive at the restaurant, he takes your hand in his, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand. He makes sure you’re comfortable; otherwise, he would immediately let go of your hand. But there is not even a hint of discomfort on your face, just a small smile on your lips. Together with you and Mia, he walks to the entrance, letting the two of you walk into it before he follows you.

“Good evening,” the waiter says, his muscles tensing when he sees Bucky.

“Good evening, a table for three by the name of Barnes.”

The man in front of Bucky nods and shows you the table. You’re helping Mia out of her jacket and talking to her while you walk through the restaurant. The eyes of the people widen when they see James walking with his daughter and a woman through the room. He smirks when he offers you a seat, takes your and Mia’s jackets out of your hands, and sits across from you, smiling widely with his steel blue eyes piercing into yours. His tattoo-covered arms rest with the sleeves slightly up and his arms on the table, and he just admires you while you look between Mia and him with a small smile.

“Good evening. Have you already decided what you like to eat?” a woman asks, her smile shy, and her eyes dart from Bucky to you and back to the muscular man.

“As always, for my daughter and for me,” he says, then turns his face to you and smiles softly. “And you, doll?”

A shiver rushes through your body, and butterflies go crazy in your belly when he calls you by that nickname in front of other people. Then you look at the waitress and order your food as well. She just nods, takes the menus, and walks back to the kitchen.

“Y/N?” Mia asks, her hand touching yours.

“Yes?”

“Do you like daddy?”

You almost choke on your own saliva when she asks that. Of course you do; who doesn’t? He is a gentle and soft man; he is beautiful, muscular, and makes you laugh. You feel safe with him, not just because there are always some of his men around, but just because of him. On the other hand, he doesn’t act in a soft way with others like you always thought, which makes the feelings you have for him stronger. Bucky doesn’t say anything to the question; he just smirks and waits for you to answer, wanting to know what you think about him.

“I-I- He is nice, but he is my boss,” you mumble.

“But you like him?”

“Yes, but I like you too, Mia.”

“So do you want to be my new mommy?”

This question caught you off guard, and your jaw drops immediately. Bucky chuckles are low and rough, causing your skin to tingle. He makes you feel things you never thought you would feel, especially not for him. The most fearful man in town, a mobster. But also your boss, a wonderful and sweet man and daddy of a beautiful and cute daughter.

“Say yes, and I’m gonna make you mine tonight,” he says.

Your breath hitches, your body shakes softly in anticipation, and you nod. Do you want it? Want to be his? Of course, you definitely want to be his.

“Y-yes.”

Mia smirks, ready to throw herself around your neck, but the food arrives at your table and she learned manners from her daddy, so she just squirms a bit in her seat but starts eating and smirks the whole time at you. Your cheeks are red, and you fix the plate with food in front of you instead of facing Bucky. What if he just wanted to know what you feel for him, but he just wants to play with you? But he is just so soft with you and not with any other woman around him.

“Doll?” his rough voice interrupts your thoughts, and you look at him. “Please let me make you mine. I know the way you look at me, and you’re the only woman I want to have. I have loved you since we first met.”

“O-Oke. B-But I can’t work for you then. H-How can I pay for my things?”

“You don’t have to pay anything. Don’t forget who you’re talking to; you will get everything you need, and you just need to ask me,” he tells you with the softest smile you have ever seen.

When you nod again, his eyes light up, and he can’t help but get up to walk around the table. He gets on his knees next to you, capturing your cheeks with his big hands before he leans closer and presses his soft, plumb lips on yours. Kissing you in a way no one has ever kissed you before, so filled with love and passion. When you kiss him back, he smirks, pulling you even closer, and your hands grip his shoulder, your fingers sliding along his neck. Mia cheers quietly, giggling and looking at the two of you in awe while he bits into her nugget. You blush when Bucky leans back, his thumb stroking your lips, and his blue eyes say more than words could ever say.

“I love you, doll. My precious doll.”

“I-I love you, too.”

“Andddddd I love you. And my nuggies,” Mia says, holding her nugget up to show it.

“Yeah. We love you too, little girl,” Bucky laughs and kisses you again, then he gets up and takes his seat again to finish eating.

Your cheeks are still red, especially when you recognize that everyone in the restaurant was looking at the two of you. But when you look at Bucky, every fear fades away, and you feel just loved by him.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry

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queers-gambit · 2 months

Text

Adore Her, Dior Her

prompt: ( requested ) what good is having all that money if he can't spend it on the woman he loves?

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 4.3k+

warnings: author foams at the mouth for Mafia AUs, overwhelming fluff, cursing, not edited.

"That's the one. That's one we should get!"

"You've said that about the past three dresses, Buck!" You groaned, smoothing your hands over the skirt. "We need to narrow this down, okay? The wedding's in a month!"

"Why did we even agree to go?"

You glared, "'Cause we love my brother and we're supporting him."

"But she's just so - "

"Jen. Her name's Jen."

Bucky nodded, leaning back on the cushioned chair, "Well, Jen's just wrong for him. Literally the definition of toxic."

"Does it count if they're toxic together? To each other?" You sighed, standing on the pedestal and turning to look in the three mirrors beside the dressing room.

"Of course it does," he stood, buttoning his suit jacket out of habit. He approached you, head cocking as he looked your body up and down to get the full view of the gown you tried on. "You're really okay letting him marry her? Turn this way a bit, baby, lemme see the front."

You scoffed, but took his offered hand and twisted on the small platform towards him, "You were there at Christmas, he doesn't listen to reason. So, if Daniel's convinced Jen's for him, as his sister, my only job is be supportive."

"They literally abuse each other," he pointed out.

"Well, he's not changing his mind. Okay? It's been three years, he won't budge, whenever someone brings up them breaking up, he goes into hiding - so, I don't know what else I can do," your hands slapped your thighs when you shrugged, "except just be there for him. Now, focus, please, help me narrow a dress down."

He shook his head as you turned to face the mirrors again, "Actually, you know what? I don't think anything in this store is for us."

The attendant perked up and scurried over, rushing, "Oh, well, we have a much larger selection in the back, Mr. Barnes - "

"That won't be necessary, Barbra, thank you, though," he nodded. "Doll," his hand planted on your waist, head over your shoulder as you still looked yourself over in the mirrors, "go get changed, I know where we need to go."

"Bucky, no, there's plenty of options here," you argued, twisting on the wee little pedestal to face him again. "We don't need to drop a stack on a dress - "

"You let me worry about the price tag," he smirked, leaning in to peck your cheek. "Just go change, pretty girl, c'mon. Step-to!"

You offered Barbra, the attendant, an apologetic smile as you shuffled back into the changing room; quickly stripping from the dress. When you exited in your street clothes, Bucky was tipping the aged woman for her effort in gathering your options, but the moment he saw you, his hand was extending to hold yours tightly.

"What was wrong with that store?" You asked when you stepped onto the noisy and busy street to approach the sleek, tinted car Bucky drove for day-to-day errands.

"We're not shopping at David's fucking Bridal."

"You literally drove us here," you laughed.

"Yeah, and then I had a much better idea," he smirked at you, unlocking the car and opening your passenger door. "C'mon, princess, just gotta trust me."

"Last time you said that - "

"That wasn't my fault," he groaned, cheeks flaring red in embarrassment. When you opened your mouth to retort, he rushed, "Aht, nope, don't say shit. C'mon, I'm taking you somewhere special so get that pretty ass in the car."

He grinned when you laughed and did as bid, feet safely inside when he closed the door after you were settled. Bucky easily jogged around the back of his car, New York busy this time of year as traffic flew past on the street and forced Buck slow. He dropped into the driver's seat, sniffling slightly.

"Reminds me," Bucky smirked as he pulled onto the street, "how would you feel about us going to Aspen this winter?"

You sighed, "Why?"

"You wanna stay in New York for Christmas?"

"Well, yeah! It's so magical."

"Okay, so, we can go over New Years?"

You sighed, "You know, we don't have to go anywhere..."

"Sweetheart," he cleared his throat, "I actually have some business in Aspen, this will just help determine when I schedule the meetings for."

"Oh," you nodded slowly.

He sighed, "I know my job isn't orthodox, but business is business, right, sugar?”

"No, yeah, yeah, I get it. It sounds kinda nice, maybe we can go skiing."

"You know how to ski?"

"No, but I'm sure someone in Aspen could help teach me."

Bucky grinned. The drive was full of easy conversation, neither you nor Bucky dwelling on his business dealings, always feeling as if it was taboo given his station in the Mafia. So when he pulled up in front of a designer store, you gawked. "Now, if we can't find something here - "

"Um, absolutely not," you laughed. "Bucky, I can't even afford to walk into a place like that!"

"Good thing I'm paying," he smirked. He assisted you out of the car, tossing his keys to one of his security guards who had been following in a separate, tinted vehicle. When you both entered the dimly lit store, you were blown away by the gorgeous minimalist design; warm lighting, open floor space, and racks of different clothing options.

"Ah, Mr. Barnes! Hello, hello, hello!" A new attendant greeted with more enthusiasm than you would've greeted any of your clients, approaching you two. She shook your boyfriend's hand vigorously, "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, "Looking for a dress to wear to a wedding."

She offered you a forced smile, telling your boyfriend swiftly with her teeth on full display, "You came to the right spot!"

"See?" Bucky smirked at you. "All right, Valeria, what's first?"

Valeria waved you both onward to a private changing room, offering complimentary sparkling waters, coffees, teas - even offering to go retrieve anything you two would want from the Starbucks down the block. Valeria took your measurements and dress size, making idle chit-chat with Bucky and making it obvious he was a regular in the store, then scurrying off to collect an armful of options.

"This is - wow," you nodded in impression, petting the material of the display dresses hung along the wall.

"Like it?"

"It's growing on me," you eased with a small shrug, hearing Bucky chuckle and for his phone to chime. You perused the place as he became glued to the little device, sat in front of the dressing rooms.

Valeria returned with another attendant carrying coffees. "Right this way, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria directed you into a changing room, missing the giddy look you sent Bucky over your shoulder at being called his wife. "All right, so," she sighed, hanging up the dresses she selected, "I think these are modest enough for a wedding, but still glamorous to turn a few heads."

You hummed, "They're kinda short, don't know if that's the energy I want to be giving off at my brother's wedding."

"They'll fit differently once on but we can always accommodate," she assured, pulling one from the hanger. "Here we go," she assisted you, zipping you in and looking you over. "Oh, it's just darling on you! Look at that, not a single hair outta place, right?"

You giggled lightly, "It's certainly pretty."

"Shall we show Mr. Barnes?"

You nodded, following her out to reveal Bucky sitting on a plush loveseat, sipping his coffee. His eyes widened when he saw you, nodding, "Oh, yeah. This is what I'm talking about."

"Hush, we're only buying one."

His eyes rolled, "I'll buy the whole damn store if I want."

"You don't own it already? Hm," you teased, perking your brows.

"Keep sayin' shit, I'll cut a check right now - "

"Bucky," you tisked, moving to the runway mirrors. "It's a little tight, isn't it?"

"It's snug," Valeria agreed. "Is there a color scheme for the wedding?"

"Um," you paused, "I'm not sure - I just know it's in winter, like, in a month."

"Maybe a pretty powder blue?" She looked to Bucky, who nodded. "Or how about a pale green? Like an olive tone?"

"She looks gorgeous in anything," Bucky smirked from behind you, taking another pull of his coffee.

"What about that brown number?" You asked, ignoring the way his compliments made you feel like the only girl he's ever seen in the world.

"You have a very good eye, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria nodded. She asked her coworker to go find your size, taking you back into the dressing room. You narrowed down the options without changing again, not wanting anything black or dark since it was a wedding and not a funeral. Though, you knew Bucky would disagree.

You showed your boyfriend a pretty little green dress, but he shook his head. "I thought the black was nice," he told you.

"I'm not wearing black to a wedding," you laughed lightly. "It screams bad luck to me, don't you think?"

"Think it's more of a statement, sayin' the entire event is a sham and they shouldn't be doing this," Bucky snickered, the other attendant, Laura, returning with a pretty brown dress. "That satin?" He asked, rubbing the material when it was presented to you both.

"It's very fashionable now," Laura nodded, "and it's not too dark."

"Since when is it a rule to not wear dark colors to a wedding? I miss the memo?" Buck leaned back to his seat.

All three women offered him a small look, you chuckling under your breath before Valeria was leading you back into the changing room. "If I may, Mrs?" She spoke softly, "I've known Mr. Barnes for a number of years but he's never brought anyone into the store. Then, one day, he tells me he needs a new suit because the 'girl of his dreams' had agreed to a date, and every time since then?" She smiled softly at you, "He's sang your praises. I'm very honored you're trusting me with helping you today."

"Oh," you blinked in shock, giggling nervously, "well, thank you very much, Valeria, now I know why his suits are always top of the line." She waved you off, making you add, "And for the record, I'm not Mrs. Barnes, guess that'd be his mother, wouldn't it?"

"Oh," her eyes widened, gasping softly, "oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I just - he talks so highly about you - "

"No, it's okay, it's okay," you rushed, patting her arm. "I actually kind of like it..."

She hummed, zipping you into another dress, "You know, he's the reason my girl and I are together."

"Really? How'd that happen?"

Valeria chuckled, "He's very bold, your man. We were getting coffee one day, discussing his wardrobe for a business trip he had in Hong Kong, when my lady walked in. I went all silly and stupid, and Mr. Barnes just," she shook her head with a fond smile, "brazenly asked her out for me, in front of the whole shop."

"Oh, Jesus, yeah - sounds like him."

"Well, luckily, it worked, else I don't think he would've come back for my assistance. I was so embarrassed, you have no idea, but my lady - Charlie - thought it was charming and cute. Mr. Barnes hasn't let me live it down since. Says he demands an invite to the wedding." She met your eyes through the mirror, offering, "And I'd be really happy to give him a plus one, hmm?"

"You're so sweet," you whispered, turning to survey the dress. You spent the better part of three hours there, trying on dress after dress, nitpicking almost everything as you just weren't sure what to wear. Bucky wasn't much help, he just approved everything.

So, it was up to Valeria and Laura to help you; bringing out iPads and design books, trying to piece something together that best fit your comfort and the vibe of the wedding. You didn't want to look like a walking money bag since your family wasn't by any means wealthy, thinking it would be a slap to their faces since your boyfriend could spend his money without ever thinking about it. You didn't want to give your family any reason to talk behind your back.

"I like the brown satin," Laura offered softly, looking you over in the mirror. "But the blue is just wow, it really looks like it was made for you, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but I think the green compliments her eyes more," Valeria cocked her head in thought. "Are you wearing your hair up or down?"

"Up," you answered, trying to mimic the look by pulling your locks off your shoulders, "with thin jewelry, I think."

"Diamonds?"

"Pearls, if I can find a dress that looks nice with it," you smiled, seeing Bucky's reflection in the mirror watching you with a soft smile on his face; head titled in thought before his phone chimed again and warranted his attention. "Maybe we could try the pink dress?" You looked to the two women for an opinion.

"No," Valeria shook her head, "it washes you out. And pink in winter? Oh, sweetie, I'd lose my job if I let you leave here with that. Guess that means you'll have to come back in the spring, right?"

You grinned in response as Laura chimed in, "The green's actually really nice, but the brown looks much better with your body type." Then she turned to Bucky, prompting, "Mr. Barnes? Final decision - which dress?"

Bucky paused, musing, "Lemme see them all again, get one last taste. It's between the green and brown numbers?"

"Or the blue," Valeria nodded. "C'mon, sweetie," she offered her hand to help you off the wee runway you were perched on in front of the magnificent mirrors.

"You look sensational in them all, doll, how the hell am I supposed to choose just one?" Bucky teased, his canines on display from the broad grin that stretched his lips.

"You'll find a way," you answered.

"Awh, telling me Mr. Big-Tough-Manly-Business-Man who makes impossible decisions everyday can't choose a simple piece of fashion?" Valeria tacked on.

"You guys can't pick either!" He laughed, "And you do a helluva lot more shopping than I do!"

Laura, Valeria, and you paused to exchange looks, you pointing at Bucky and relenting in a drawl, "Touché."

When you were escorted back into the dressing room, Laura waiting outside the door for your privacy with Valeria, Bucky sat back on the plush loveseat and extended his one arm over the back of the seating. He smirked to himself, shaking his head as if in disbelief - but he was. Bucky was in disbelief.

How did a rugged Mob boss find himself here? Watching his girl like a private fashion show?

His whole life, all he knew was turmoil, pain, drama, and fear. He knew he would inherit his father's well-built organization after he passed and knew what this life would entail; having no preconceived notions about a quiet life. He knew he would have to be tougher than tough, adaptable, intelligent, and confident in his role as the head of the 3-6 Brooklyn Mob. Knowing the idea of a family was farfetched, knowing he'd never know the simple pleasures in life, that he would constantly be on the move - in-able to form real, sentimental, emotional connections. He knew, in this life, he'd remain alone for everyone's best interest and safety, indulging in a series of flings and one-off relationships that couldn't haunt him.

Yet they did. These encounters reminded Bucky how alone, how stranded, how isolated, how different he was. Instead of satisfying an unquenchable thirst, these fleeting partners became heavy anchors to Bucky's reality and reminded him that there was no such thing as love - nor was there any room or logic.

And then... He met you. Bucky's lips silently spread in a grin as he remembered meeting you at a bakery; purchasing the last slice of coconut cream pie to your absolute chagrin. He thought you were gorgeous, something ethereal and unobtainable; authentic, raw, and unfiltered - things his one night stands could never measure up to. So, he offered you the slice of pie if it meant giving him your number as currency.

After that, it was impossible for Bucky to consider ever being alone again because you were the sun; center of the universe that drew everyone into your orbit. He was smitten, content, excited to date you, turned on by the fact you had no idea who he was - a rare occurrence in the city. You were pure as fresh snow; sweet, kind, affectionate, attentive, and borderline overly empathetic.

Bucky knew he was in love with you after only a few weeks when he had shown up at your apartment, dripping in blood. You didn't panic like he feared you would, just checked up and down the hallway before yanking him into your home. You cleaned him up, tending to wounds, offering a safe space for him to relax in; making mindless conversation to help distract him from the pain he endured.

And now? Now, Bucky was sat in Dior, giving his opinion on your wedding guest dress; wondering how he allowed himself to get to this point of being domestic. Bucky wasn't a man to give his opinion on dresses, what color nail polish you should use, to send fresh bouquets of flowers every other week. Yet here he was, sipping too-expensive coffee, deciding between brown, green, and blue dresses that he never would've batted an eye at.

However, that was just the domino effect you caused in his life. You were sweeter than apple pie, becoming Bucky's one tether to reality that saved him from losing himself in this dark, criminal mindset he adopted. You didn't know it, but you had transformed Bucky from a brooding asshole into a boyfriend; someone you were proud to claim and never hid from - never shied away from. He admired the way you came to terms with his job, knowing it was a hard pill to swallow and yet noting the way you just accepted him as he was.

Bucky realized in that moment that he adored this new aspect of life after thinking it was impossible to obtain. He adored sitting here, offering opinions on dresses, his security left outside instead of hovering over him like a brutal reminder he was seedy. He loved having you to come home to, he loved being part of your mundane world - a person who went to weddings, who drank Starbucks, who asked her boyfriend his opinion about how she looked in dresses. Who thought bouquets of flowers were romantic, who baked him homemade cakes for his birthday, who worked overtime in order to afford his Christmas or birthday presents, who walked to the takeout place instead of paying for delivery.

All that you are, Bucky adored deeply; falling in love with you each and every single day. All he wanted to do was protect you, share his life with you, even pick out outfits for weddings you would attend. He knew if any of the men in his organization knew the extent of his affection, they'd surely weaponize it against him... Or at the very least, tease him relentlessly. Yet he never cared, knowing you wanted to be loved out loud instead of hidden away in a storage closet; but did care if it meant his enemies could use you to get to him. It was a risk, an occupation hazard for loved ones to become targets, but that only made Bucky so much more protective of you.

Laura glanced at Bucky and saw the fond smile soften to let his teeth trap his bottom lip, smiling at the Mob boss looking soft, content, smitten being there. She knew most boyfriends would never put this much effort into helping their girlfriends in the fashion department, thinking he must've been truly in love to look so at-ease. Plus his enthusiasm through the entire ordeal assured her that Bucky was genuinely enjoying himself.

Once again, you slipped into the blue dress and showed Bucky. He hummed and snapped a photo, asking you to turn this way and that. Then you tried the green dress, him taking another photo, and finally, you changed into the brown satin dress, facing Bucky for his final verdict.

Bucky hummed in contemplation, swiping through the photos. "You know what?" He asked, looking at you with a grin. "You look delectable in everything, I can't decide - so, let's just get them all."

"Bucky, no - "

"We'll take all three, Valeria, please," Bucky interrupted you.

You waited until the attendants left you alone with a knowing look shot in your direction to ring up the desired purchases, hip cocking and hands to your hips. With an underlying exasperation, you questioned, "What the hell, Buck?"

He grinned and stood, again, buttoning his suit jacket, "C'mon, princess, this is fun, right? Being spoiled?." His arms wrapped around your waist, looking down at you as if you hung the very sun that sucked him into your orbit. "What's the point of all my money if I can't spend it on you? Huh?"

"You can save it for a rainy day?"

He shrugged, "Not necessary."

"Maybe pay to send some underprivileged kids to go to college?"

"Well, there's a thought," your boyfriend mused, "but I already do that through the Stark Foundation. I sponsor a few scholarships."

"Okay, well, buying all three still doesn't help me decide what to wear," you chuckled, you mimicked his action and wrapped your arms tightly around the base of his ribs. Due to his height, your head had to tip backwards to meet his eyes with a small smile.

You could look at this gorgeous man all day, everyday if God ever permitted such an act. Why wasn't dating a paid activity? You'd be the top earner with the way you were absolutely enthralled with all Bucky Barnes was. And what an honor it was to earn his mutual adoration.

"We'll figure it out at home. Gotta get you moving in the material to make an honest judgement," he offered softly. "But you look gorgeous in all of them, baby, seriously. Like, drop dead gorgeous that makes every girl brim with jealousy. Shit, doll, you're gonna run the risk of outshining the bride."

You sighed, "Look, Buck, I appreciate what you're doing, but three designer dresses? Where the hell am I ever gonna wear them? What kinda event calls for overpriced fashion statements?"

Buck eased with a soft expression, "Guess I'll just have to take you out so you can put them all to good use, huh?"

"That's not a solution!"

"Is to me," he let a hand drift to roughly palm the meat of your ass cheek over the brown satin; another symptom of him being whipped, his comfort over public displays of affection. "Seriously, doll, how the hell did I get so lucky?"

"Hmm?"

"Just look at you, my girl," he chuckled lightly, "radiant in anything you put on. It's almost unfair, makes me wonder what I did so right to have someone like you I can call my own. I can't wait to show you off in those dresses, just look so Goddamn tantalizing. I mean, damn, baby, I'm gonna have to fight off men with my gun and the jealous women with a stick."

"You do realize we're already dating, you don't have to lay it on so thick."

"And you do realize being with you makes me the luckiest bastard in the city, right? Least I can do is spoil you, I've already got everything else I've ever wanted."

Your heart swelled at his words, sighing gently as your chin rested on his chest to keep your head tilted. Softly, you admitted, "I don't think you're the lucky one, pretty sure the honor's mine. I couldn't ask for anything more in a man - in a partner. I'm so fucking in love with you, Bucky, it honestly doesn't make sense."

He nodded, asking, "Know what else doesn't make sense?"

"What's that?"

"You refusing those dresses, I mean, c'mon!" He laughed, you groaning and releasing your hold; making his tighten to prevent you from escaping. "Those dresses look phenomenal on you, you really gonna reject my gift? C'mon, you know the rules, doll, if you adore her, you Dior her." You were ready to retort, but Bucky smiled, "For the record, I think you should wear the blue dress to the wedding."

"Blue it is," you smiled, lifting onto your toes and hooking a hand around the back of his neck to meet his lips in a scratchy kiss. "Thank you so much, baby," you whispered, feeling his lips spread against yours before he brought you back in for a much-more passionate kiss. "Hm!" You hummed, pulling away to scold, "But no more, all right? You spend too much money on me - I mean, who the hell needs three designer dresses?"

"You do," he whispered, "you deserve all of this, sugar, and I'll do what I can t'spoil you the way you should be. Might as well get used to it, I got no plans on stopping."

Your eyes rolled in good faith, excusing yourself, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Lemme get changed and we can - "

"Nah," he shook his head, petting the skin of your back exposed from the brown satin dress with his fingertips, "know what? Stay in the dress, I wanna take you out and show you off."

Your lips found his in a breath-sucking kiss, trying to convey your appreciation and giddiness over never having been spoiled like this in your entire life - feeling grateful, refreshed, and privileged for a man like Bucky in your life. Whatever greater force there was in this world, you thanked repeatedly for choosing you to love this man and for this man to love you. There was no telling what you did to deserve him, but blessed be those heavenly powers.

requesting rules and masterlist

MCU masterlist

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marnle · 1 year

Text

My sweet, sweet Dove - Mafia!Bucky x Fem!reader

Summary - Bucky Barnes finds the peace he so rightfully craves in his best friend, the worlds upon his shoulders, yet his lust for you lives on through his darkest of days.

Warnings - smutttt, juicy af, mentions of violence, slight alcohol consumption, grinding etc.

A/n - Hi all, my requests are open! I’ve never really published my works before, so this is all new to me, but feel free to drop a request, and I’d love to see what I can do! :)

Enjoy, safe reading! <3

————

You sauntered into the kitchen, it was incredibly dark, yet a small lamp situated in the corner illuminated the majority of the room, drowning it in a blanket of rusty amber. You grabbed a small glass and walked towards the sink, filling it with cold water, it swirled around the glass as though it were a prisoner, fighting against its confines. You propped yourself up on the marble countertop, it was icy underneath you, a considerable difference to the heat that burned underneath your skin and through your veins. The deep, angered and somewhat laboured voices that previously echoed through the halls had silenced. They’d swirled through the walls, up the stairs, and burst through the windows too. Bucky had informed you that he was working late, you’d understood what he’d meant, yet the scale of debate that evidently had occurred left you feeling drained - and you hadn’t even been in the room.

Bucky was one of your closest friends, your main confidant in the times you needed him most. So when you informed him that you had nowhere to stay, he practically offered his whole life to you, and you took it with his blue eyes piercing what felt like your soul. So you resided in his main estate where he conducted his official work, his official business meetings, you knew he was dirty, and downright inequitable, but his loyalty was unlike any other, your friendship was unlike any other, and you owed him the world and more.

So as you sipped your water, and pondered the evident lack of sleep that laced your features, you didn’t hear his office door finally open after hours, or the trudge of his tired feet upon the dark wooden floor approaching, the leather of their seams making the slightest of noises.

His black silk tie sat loosely around his neck, his mountainous shoulders were tightly winded practically up to his ears, the top buttons of his previously pristine shirt were undone, and said shirt was hanging messily out of his slacks, of which sat loosely on his hips, his brunette hair was unkempt, almost spikey as the last of the gel he’d previously put in began to finally wear away.

“Doll? You alright?” He asked, snapping you out of your trance, he moved opposite to you and plopped himself shakily down on the floor with a large sigh, leaning against the kitchen cupboards behind him, his head thrown back in a show of exhaustion.

You simply hummed.

“Why are you still up?” He queried, running his large hand through his hair, absolutely destroying any remnants of orderliness it previously had maintained. Glaring at the girl in front of him almost alarmingly.

“Couldn’t sleep is all.” You replied, taking another small sip from your glass before handing it downwards towards Bucky. He accepted it, and pulled out a metallic flask, pouring a brown liquid into the mix, swirling it, then drinking it. It burned the back of his throat and warmed him from the inside out. He looked at you curiously, his oceanic eyes bore into yours in order to gauge a reaction. It was silent as you returned his eye contact, you were sure you could hear a pin drop.

“Well, hand it over.” you laughed nervously, taking a gulp of the alcoholic beverage. It also burned your throat, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust. You could hear the deep rumble of Bucky's laughter in the background, it sounded angelic to your ears.

“Bad night?” You asked, anxiously pinching the skin of your fingers as you awaited his reply, not wanting him to ever suffer at the slightest. You observed the way his jaw slightly clenched and went slack, how he breathed slightly faster at such, and slowly regained his composure not a moment after.

“Something like that Doll.” he replied, letting out yet another sigh. In complete honesty, the meeting was a mess, his business partner had backed out of a paramount deal, meaning he’d have to find a backup as soon as possible, something that wasn’t likely. This left him open to financial attacks elsewhere. He’d even lost his temper, covering his golden signet ring that sat dormant on his finger in a layer of carmine; the ring you twirled when you felt anxious. His business partner had messed up his ring, his new enemy had messed up your ring, and Bucky had made sure he paid for it.

“Is there something I could do to make you feel any better?”.

He subtly nodded, allowing his stoic exterior only to fall in your presence, something that exhausted him beyond words.

He kneeled and shuffled towards you whilst you sat upon the counter, arms open, knowing exactly what he needed. He pushed his head into your stomach, breathing in your scent, roses and fresh linen, it made him feel safe. His was sandalwood, it engulfed your scenes and knocked the wind out of your chest, just like it always did.

You placed your hand upon his head, stroking your fingers through his hair as you felt the tension leave his large body, you leaned down and placed a small kiss on the crown of his head.

This caused him to gaze up at you, a longing in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, and you were sure yours mirrored them as such.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You whispered at a barely audible level, you could feel his warm breath against your skin.

“Like what?” he replied, his voice breathy and almost desperate.

Your hands moved down from his hair towards his chin, cupping his face as though he was the last living being on earth. Your eyes fluttered between his lips and his eyes, the room was spinning, the air was thick.

“Like this.” you whispered before slowly bringing his face to yours, and placing your smooth lips over his own.

Bucky felt as though his world had stopped, his heart was erratically beating, his head didn’t feel as though it was his own, his body wasn’t his own. The tension had been snapped just as quickly as it arised, and Bucky felt as though he was on cloud nine, there and then he decided that the feel of your lips against his own was the singular most effective high he’d ever encountered, it was a high he was now addicted to, and one he’d never ever let go.

He stilled in your grasp, causing you to pull away.

“Bucky, I’m so sorry.” You muttered, a wave of red covered your cheeks, horrified at what you’d just done. Yet before your brain could sabotage you further, and convince you otherwise, Bucky slammed his lips onto yours, grasping the back of your neck in his large hands. He groaned at the taste of you, a sweetness he’d only ever imagined.

He pushed into your mouth, your teeth collided in a show of desperation and finally requited lust. You slid your hand into his brown hair once again, yet under completely different circumstances.

You grasped his hair, pulling him off of your lips, it made him groan.

“Tell me you don’t want this, tell me you don't Bucky.”

“You know I can’t.”

He picked you up, wrapping his large arms around your torso, his fingers pushed under your shirt, drawing circles upon your skin, skin of which felt as though it were a juvenile flame of the sun.

You tucked your face into the crevice of his neck, his scent was the strongest it had ever been, it blinded you, and you loved it. You dragged your lips across his neck, biting and nipping at whatever skin you could, making his groans rougher, whinier.

He’d walked you both into the living room where he dropped backwards onto the couch, you in his arms. You were sitting in his lap, he was so extremely hard under you that you couldn’t help but tease.

You slowly rolled your hips, the friction causing you both to moan in unison, in pleasure. He grasped your body as though you were his life line, and even though he hadn’t said as such, you both knew it was true for the both of you.

You continued to grind against him, you moved against each other as though you were made for each other. Your moans were beautiful, they made him lose his mind, his great intelligent mind reduced to nothing simply by your presence alone. His hands grabbed your hips for a moment, your face was directly in front of his, you inhaled his breath as though it were your last.

“Doll, I can’t last long like this.” He moaned, more like a whine, in an attempt to keep his composure.

“I bet.” you replied, causing his mouth to fall even further open in a state of disbelief, allowing you to sink your teeth into his lip, stealing even more of his sacred breath away.

Instead of slowing down you sped up, with Bucky’s hands gripping your waist so tightly, you were sure his touch was to be ingrained upon your soul. He ran his hand down towards where you longed for him most, and cupped your pussy, pushing his palm into your clit, causing you to let out a moan that echoed off of the walls, a moan he was sure he’d never forget. He ran his other hand up your body towards your nipple, and twirled it between his fingers, swapping between the two, making you feel as though you were atop of the world. The sight of you was enough for him to come right there, yet he’d only ever imagined this moment, and wanted, no, needed to drag it out for as long as possible, as long as he humanely could.

“Come on baby, let go for me.” He purred, gazing into your eyes as yours fought to stay open.

“Shh, that’s my Doll, let go love.” And you did, your body arched into his grasp, he pushed his palm even further into your clit as you came, creating such delicious pressure, you thought you were going to burst. You wrapped your arms around his body, engulfing him and curling into him to fit his form as though you were perfectly moulded to him as he came too, groaning and bucking his hips whilst his stomach and glistening abs contracted over and over again, he’d entirely lost control, the lust he felt wasn’t matched by another soul.

Your sweaty bodies sat wrapped around each other, breathy whimpers left the both of you as you fought your natural instincts to breathe. Bucky grasped your face, and silently laughed as he brought his lips to yours once again.

“My sweet, sweet Dove, how you’ve had me forever.”

————

Fanx 4 reading bros :)

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m4tthewmurd0ck · 9 months

Text

COMING SOON!!!

Mob!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Ballerina Reader

(I do my best to be as non-descriptive as possible, but I do use she / her and mention that reader is a ballerina)

Inspired by the question: Have you ever tried to eat at a restaurant, which happened to be a mafia / mob front, but you didn’t know that, and everyone inside just stared as you walked in because nobody actually eats there?

I FINALLY decided what I want my first piece back to be and I’m so excited shdiznejfns it’s very funny if I do say so myself. Once I got the idea I rushed and typed it on my phone and I already KNOW there are so many spelling errors because I have auto correct turned off and right now it looks like shit hahdndisfn. BUUUUT I just need to give it a quick read through / fix errors on my laptop and we’ll be good to go! Full preview below the cut :)

It had been Bucky’s idea to name the restaurant Tony’s. After their dear friend who had given his life in a war that should’ve never been fought.

It had been Peter’s idea to ‘open a restaurant’. He pointed out that it would be the perfect realistic cover, though Steve argued that they didn’t really need one. Everyone in Brooklyn and the neighboring cities knew who they were, why did they need to put up any sort of front?

In the end, Bucky sided with Peter. They needed a place to talk shop and handle business, and it had to be somewhere that the outside wouldn’t attract any trouble (aka law enforcement). A warehouse was too obvious and was practically begging to be raided. He agreed with Steve, though, in that everyone knew who they were and what their business really was. He pointed out that it was actually a good thing. It would be pretty obvious that the restaurant wasn’t a restaurant, and they wouldn’t attract actual customers. But they’d make it legit, so that they couldn’t be shut down. Like Peter said, they needed a realistic cover.

Within a month, Tony’s was up and running. Running, as in the lights were on during what would be deemed normal business hours. The door was kept locked, but that didn’t matter because as Bucky predicted, no one tried to actually eat there.

Until one day when rehearsal ran nearly 2 hours late. You were tired, exhausted mentally and physically, and you just wanted some comfort food before heading back to your apartment to enjoy the next 2 days off. Still somewhat new to the city, you decided to get off of the subway one stop earlier, and find a restaurant on your way home.

Luckily for you, a neon sign reading TONY’S caught your eye. Unbeknownst to you, there was a meeting going on inside, and someone had forgotten to lock the front entrance.

As you pushed the door open, you had no idea the events that were about to unfold.

💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫

IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED WHEN I POST FOR BUCKY, LET ME KNOW!!

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late-to-the-party-81 · 11 months

Text

Power Play - Chapter 1

AN: And here is Week 5 of HBS and the start of a new multi-chapter fic, this one a Bucky x Reader story, cos I like to give you all some variety. This also strays into Soft!Dark! Territory, cos, you know… Mob! Bucky. Thanks @buckybarnesevents for the inspo.

I’ve chosen the prompt When I first met you... Electricity

Beta’d by @buckysbarne

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and banner by me. Pictures of Seb courtesy of https://sebastian-stan.com/

Master list | Hot Bucky Summer Master list

Summary: Waking up in a mobster’s house the morning after the night before was not how this was supposed to go…

Relationship: Mob! Bucky x Undercover Agent! Reader

WC: 2.3k

CW: Kidnap, Manipulation, Soft!Dark! Bucky, Alcohol consumption, Reader briefly believes Bucky will force her against her will (use of R word once), kissing, Russian Pet names as mangled by Google translate (all variations of sweetheart/darling except Pchelka, which is explained.)

Your head was foggy and your mouth grainy as you opened your eyes, blinking against the harshness of the late morning sun coming through the window.

“Good morning, Pchelka.” Strong fingers gripping your chin and pinching your jaw harshly, brought you out of your stupor, and you looked up at the owner of the gravelly voice.

“Did you sleep well? I slept like a log. I’m going to say that it was because of the connection we made last night.” He chuckled darkly. “Did you feel it, sladkiy? The electricity when I first took your hand in mine? Because I did.” His body shivered at the memory, and you felt a fission of fear travel down your spine.

His eyes were blue - cool and chilling - and you wished you were looking at them under different circumstances. Wished you were here with him under different circumstances, because although he was your enemy, you weren’t blind.

James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes. Revered head of the New York Mob, and so sinfully handsome it was no wonder that men and women swooned at his feet.

“Are you going to answer me, Pchelka?”

His brow was arched, amusement still playing at his lips. Challenging you to defy him.

“I’m not your ‘little bee’. And I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He let your face go with a snort that told you that he knew you were lying. Because you were. How could you not have felt it, when your slim hand had been completely engulfed by his when you’d been introduced? When he’d raised your hand, gently turning it to press a kiss to the fluttering vein in your wrist.

You should have known then that you were fucked. Should have called the whole thing off and got out of there.

But no. You’d decided that you had to stay - had to pull your big girl pants up, get a hold of yourself and prove to everyone else that you were capable of carrying out this mission. You wondered if your colleagues, your fellow agents, were trying to actually rescue you, or were they laughing at your ineptitude?

Barnes crossed to the far side of the room, a classic dark wood office with floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with leather-bound tomes. Turkish wool rugs covered the wooden floor that matched all of the furniture. He picked up a decanter, poured a hefty measure of amber liquid into a matching tumbler and brought it up to his lips. You didn’t even realise that you were watching him that intently until he smirked.

He walked back over to you, power and grace showing with every move of his body. He sank into a crouch before you, dipped his finger into the alcohol and then painted it over your lips. Instinctually you licked it away, and the whisky burned on your tongue.

“They think you’re dead, by the way.” That got your attention, making you halt with your mouth part open, tongue tip still midway through catching the errant drops he’d applied. His finger returned to the glass, then back to your lips once again as you sat, stock still.

A sudden anger burned through you, and you tried to leap to your feet, but you hadn’t counted on the bonds that tied you to the chair. You struggled against them, hands curling into fists and feet ineffectually kicking as you let out a wail of frustration.

“Tsk tsk.” Barnes admonished you for your reaction as he stood and backed up to rest against the edge of his, no doubt antique, desk. “And here I was thinking you’d be more grateful. If you’d continued in that job you’d have died of boredom, milyy. Just think. I’ve actually saved you.” He took another sip of his drink, observing you and you wanted to shrink under his gaze - you had to look a mess.

Your evening gown, which had looked stunning on you when you’d gotten ready for this op, was now torn and filthy. Your nail polish was chipped, a couple of the nails torn, and no doubt your makeup was smeared across your face. Somewhere along the line, you’d lost your shoes, or had they been taken from you? Admittedly a lot of it was a blur and you’d also been unconscious for some time, only waking up once you were here, tied to this chair, a smirking Barnes looking down on you.

Conversely, he looked so put together it should be illegal. Last night he’d smouldered in a dinner suit, but this morning he exuded power and danger. His shirt was black, with two opened buttons, showing off the silver rope chain around his neck. His suit jacket and pants were also black but covered with a wide pinstriped check. He had a large signet ring on the pinky of his left hand, and silver and black onyx ring on the adjacent ring finger, and it was hard to take your eyes off them. His pants were tight across his crotch, leaving little to the imagination, and he’d finished off his outfit with a pair of patent black boots and a pair of blue-tinted sunglasses, perched on his head. In a nutshell, he was sex personified and you needed to get your head back in the game before you did something you’d regret.

“You’re deluded, you know that?”

“Focused, Pchelka. Not deluded. I didn’t get where I am now without knowing what I wanted and taking it. And I want you. I think you want me too.”

It was your turn to snort, and you didn’t bother to hide your derision. “In your dreams!”

He was back in front of you in an instant, his beringed fingers curling into the leather chair back, his face millimetres from your own.

“I don’t think I imagined how you trembled when you were in my arms, lyubimyy. When I led you around the dance floor and you felt as though you were made to fit in my embrace. I don’t think I imagined how you sighed and leaned against me as I spoke soft words in your ears.”

Heat burned your cheeks and you tried for some bravado.

“All an act, I assure you. As you know, you were my mark.”

His mouth broke into a feral grin and, for the first time, you were worried. Worried about what he had in store for you… and worried that you might like it.

“You keep telling yourself that. I don’t think you’ll be able to maintain that lie when you’re screaming my name later.”

“I didn’t know your name was Rapist.”

He moved one hand from the back of the chair to rest at the base of your throat, fingers applying just enough pressure to remind you who was in control here.

“Don’t insult both of us, Pchelka. When I take you, you will welcome it. Want it. You will be begging me to make you mine. And I think it will happen sooner than you think.” His voice was a hypnotic whisper, and you could feel yourself spiralling, enchanted by the power that he exuded from every pore, so when he kissed you, you were unprepared.

Barnes used the thumb of the hand he had around your neck to tip your chin up. His pink, sinful lips demanded entry efficiently and you were powerless to resist. His mouth explored yours, tongues tangling, and when he teasingly broke the kiss you were horrified to find that you were whimpering.

Your captor just continued to smile, animalistic and condescending.

“Electric, as I said. You betray yourself without even meaning too. It’s a good thing that I’m a nice man, and I’m not torturing you for information. You wouldn’t last five minutes.”

Feelings of anger, shame and embarrassment rose within you. He was right, god damn it. You weren’t cut out for this work. You knew it. He knew it. The people you worked with knew it. Backroom paper shuffling was where you excelled, but there was no way you could’ve turned down the opportunity for undercover work, because success would have meant a level of recognition and respect that you could never have hoped, to gain otherwise, even if the op was a classic, and somewhat demeaning, honey-trap.

You closed your eyes and willed the tears not to fall.

“Please, Mr Barnes. Just let me go. I don’t know anything. Nothing has happened here that can’t be forgotten.”

“Call me Bucky, lyubimaya. And I don’t want to let you go, or forget you. Stay here with me. Leave those narrow-minded idiots you work for. I would treat you with the respect you deserve. And you wouldn’t just be on my arm and in my bed, you would be by my side. You have useful skills that shouldn’t be wasted.”

Your eyes snapped back open and looked at him in surprise and confusion. “What do you mean?”

Barnes - Bucky - ran the knuckles of his left hand down your cheek, the coldness of his rings a balm to your heated flesh. Tattoos peeked out from under his sleeve, twisting and winding down his skin, and onto his fingers. Vines and flowers and thorns. Letters of the Cyrillic alphabet.

“You think that I would bring you here, to the seat of my power if I didn’t already know every… little… thing… about you? I know what your role was before you started this ill-advised op. I know where you lived. I know what cereal you like for breakfast and what your regular coffee order is. You’re always flitting too and fro, concentrating on work. Busy as a bee.”

You weren’t sure why you weren’t shocked, but you asked him all the same. “There’s a mole inside my unit?”

“Of course, Pchelka. There’s always a mole. Always someone who is more than willing to trade loyalty for power and money, or someone who is so desperate that they can be easily persuaded. Desperate people do desperate things, and tell themselves they aren’t really the bad ones, it’s just their circumstances.”

Both his hands had now settled on your waist, the size of them making you feel smaller than you often thought of yourself. Bucky himself was still on his knees, between your bound, spread legs, his torso virtually pressed against your inner thighs. You absently noticed that the knife you’d placed in a thigh holder was missing. No doubt Bucky or his men had found it almost straight away once you’d been rendered unconscious. You hoped it had been the man in front of you - the idea of being touched in such an intimate place by someone other than him was abhorrent. A part of you wondered why you didn’t think that him touching you was also horrifying.

“And which one do you think I am? Disloyal or desperate?” You arched your brow, trying to ignore the way his fingers were branding you through the satin of your dress.

“You, milyy, are a secret third thing. You are an intelligent woman, who makes decisions based on all the information available. It’s not disloyalty if you’ve been betrayed first. It’s also not desperation that would make you join me if I have no pressure point - no sick aunt, no cousin in debt to a loan shark, that sort of thing. If you joined me it would be because you wanted to. Because you saw the merits of such an action.”

You had to admit, his offer was tempting. You hated your job and you hated your co-workers. It was still a ‘boy’s club’ and all the inclusion and diversity training in the world couldn’t counteract the toxic masculinity that the job attracted. You hated that, despite putting up with this job for so many years, you were still living in a crappy apartment with too long a commute to work.. You hated that, despite the fact you never even got around to taking your PTO, you also weren’t making any decent deposits into your savings account. Okay, you weren’t quite living paycheck to paycheck, but you were by no means where you thought you’d be by now.

The long hours also meant little time to socialise, and the friends you’d once had, had all dropped away one by one as you’d cancelled one social engagement after another. This also meant that your love life was, as the song goes, DOA, and after a while, all the toys in the world failed to satisfy. Which also meant that the feeling of soft, expensive wool, encasing a warm, hard body, rubbing against your inner thighs was upsetting your equilibrium quite a bit.

Then, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you, his face dipped closer again, his breath, tinged with whisky, fanning over you.

“Imagine how it would feel, Pchelka. The power. The pleasure. You’d want for nothing. Every need would be met. Every whim indulged.”

It was your turn to shiver and as your eyes fluttered closed again you heard him chuckle.

“You want it, don’t you. You want me and everything I can give you. It’s okay to want those things. I want things as well. I want you, lyubimyy. I’ve waited a long time for a Queen.”

“You don’t know me…” Your denial was whispered, and even you didn’t believe what you’d said.

“But I do. I know exactly what you need...”

His lips captured yours once more, but this time you didn’t even pretend not to respond. You drank him in as though he would quench your thirst and you only remembered your bonds again when your body strained against them. Your knees managed to dig into his waist though, and you felt him smile against your lips.

His hands slid from your waist, to one wrist and then the other, freeing them. You threw your arms around his neck, not even trying to get away. In any case, your ankles were still bound.

Your fingers brushed over the short hair on the sides and back of his head, the strands prickling your skin. His own hands were now cupping your face as he continued to kiss you, and you knew what was going to happen. You were falling under his spell.

Chapter 2

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel

#hot bucky summer #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky #late writes

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lokislittlemidgardian · 1 year

Text

Santa baby

Content - age regression, mob!cg!winterwidow (but not insinuated by the story), sad!reader, mentions of Covid, Christmas, bucky dresses up as Santa, crafting, angst to insane amounts of fluff, don’t like don’t read.

Summary - Christmas Eve/day with your mommy and daddy.

Authors note - Merry Christmas my angels!, I hope you all have spectacular days and that you get all the presents and cuddles you can possibly get, reblogs are greatly appreciated, I hope you enjoy <3

Nothing had really gone right for Christmas this year.

The pandemic ruined everything for you and your family, you had planned Christmas for a few days into the new year after everyone was over their sickness.

But that wasn’t Christmas, it would never be the same.

“Cmon sweetheart, we’ll be together” Nat cooed wiping a few escaped tears away from your cheekbones.

“But not the same” you whimpered burying your face in her chest “hey now, I know it’s not the same buttercup but at least we’ll be together” bucky whispered picking you up and lightly bouncing you in his arms.

“Promise?” “We promise baby” the two of them whispered “how about we get your mind off it hey?, do you wanna make something?” “Christmas cards?” “Okay angel we can make Christmas cards!, who do you wanna make them for” Natasha cheered excitedly grabbing some supplies from your crafting table.

“For auntie Wanda, uncle vision, uncle tony, auntie pepper, auntie carol, uncle steve, uncle Bruce-“ “okay so we wanna make them for everyone don’t we princess?” Bucky chuckled laying out the pipe cleaners and glitter glue.

“Yes!” You exclaimed giggly taking in the joy from the crafting supplies.

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

By the end of the night you had fallen asleep while adding the finishing touches to your auntie Maria’s Christmas card.

“Nat” bucky whispered signalling down at you to his wife “oh sweetheart” she chuckled stroking your cheek “you put her down I’ll finish Maria’s card” she whispered gently placing a kiss to you and Buckys nose.

“Okay, cmon then little one” he sighed out gently taking you in his arms and cradling you to his body.

After walking up the large fight of stairs he opened the oak door to your bedroom and stepped inside.

Taking in your white Christmas tree he chuckled at the sight, of course that was why Natasha had been putting you too bed as of late, she’d bought you your own Christmas tree.

“Oh how could mommy resist” he smiled looking down at your sweet sleeping face.

Pulling back your duvet he gently sat lied you down cooing down at you when you stirred slightly “shh it’s okay angel go back to sleep it’s just daddy”

Placing your blue lamb underneath your right arm he placed a kiss to the top of your nose before getting up

“sweet dreams little one, I love you”

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

“Natasha do I really have to do this babe?” bucky chuckled taking off his grey shirt and picking up the red costume.

“Yes you do, besides you look incredibly handsome” she laughed heartily placing a kiss to his lips “why thank you, how about now?” He said securing the long white beard against his chin.

Letting out a long wheeze she brought her hands to the side of his face “just as handsome as the day I met you”

Giving Bucky the brown bag she made sure the presents were secure before helping him drape the bag over his shoulder.

“Alright remember the plan, hang on where’s alpine?” She sighed “over there I’ll go get her” bucky said running over to the white fluffy cat.

Picking her up Natasha secured the antlers to her furry head “now alpine you remember the plan yes?” She questioned the little animal “meow” “good girl” Nat chuckled watching the two of them disappear down the staircase.

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

“Sweetheart quick wake up” you heard Natasha whisper excitedly to you lightly shaking your shoulder.

“Mommy, what time is it?” You said quietly bringing your fists up to gently rub your eyes “its 4 in the morning baby, I know it’s early but I have to show you something, cmon” she said gently helping you out of bed.

Taking hold of your hand she helped the two of you walk down the large staircase always having ahold of your hand.

When you reached the bottom you saw the illuminating light from the Christmas tree lighting up the dark living room.

All of a sudden you saw a man with a bright red suit and a long white beard come from the kitchen

“Santa” you whispered.

“That’s right baby, but we have to be quiet so he doesn’t spot us okay?” “Okay mama”

Watching lightly as he slung down the brown bag off of his shoulder. Watching as he set out neatly wrapped presents underneath the tree “mama he’s eaten the biscuits” you giggled quietly poking Natasha’s arm gently.

“I can see that angel, it’s not really a surprise though is it you made them so delicious” she whispered placing a kiss to your temple.

“But the reindeer hasn’t eaten his carrot yet mama” “oh well give it time princess” Natasha smirked, just as she said that you saw a white flash dance across the living room and roll the carrot off of the place with his nose.

Letting out a gasp you turned to Natasha “that’s a tiny reindeer mama” “it is a tiny reindeer baby girl” she chuckled.

After the presents were all set up you watched as he gathered up his bag and picked up the “baby reindeer”

Turning around he smiled underneath his beard and lightly waved at you before walking back through to the kitchen.

“Okay baby time for bed” Natasha whispered walking you back up the staircase and towards your room “mama Santa’s handsome” you giggled kicking your legs slightly “he is isn’t he angel” your mommy chuckled.

“He looks a bit like daddy doesn’t he?” You whispered playing with the ear of your lamb “he does a bit” she smiled kissing your forehead.

“Okay sweetie get some sleep” she mumbled stroking your head watching your eyes fall gently.

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

“Little one, time to wake up” Bucky whispered gently stroking your cheek with his vibranium hand.

When you came to there were snowy footprints on your bamboo floorboards and a long string of ribbon that had been tied to your bedpost and out through the doorway.

“Daddy daddy it’s Christmas!” You cheered excitedly leaping up from your bed and into his arms “it sure is my love” he chuckled placing your soft toy under your arm and making his way out of your bedroom.

“What do you think this ribbons for doll?” He questioned pointing out the gold fabric as he made his way down the stairs.

“I dunno dada” you said in a sing song like voice making his smile warmly at you.

“Good morning my darling” Natasha called out happily stepping over presents and reaching out to lift you from Buckys arms into her own.

“Morning mama” you giggled kicking your feet lightly “did you tell daddy about who we saw last night?” She asked curiously hoping you hadn’t thought it was a dream.

“Oh yeah! Daddy we saw Santa!” You shrieked grinning widely at the two of them “you saw Santa?” He gasped “yeah and a baby reindeer” you giggled remembering the small animal.

“Are they always white when they’re born daddy?” “Umm yes sweetheart” Bucky answered watching Nat contain her laughter at your adorable question.

“Your so lucky that you got to see Santa little one, not many people can say that they have” he said softly looking at your happy little face.

“I know dada I’m so lucky” you smiled climbing up on the sofa next to them.

After a few minutes of cuddles and soft whispering you decided to ask them your favourite question on Christmas.

“Mama, dada?” “Yes little angel?”

“Present time?” You asked innocently looking in between the two of them making them laugh heartily.

“Yes sweetheart presents now, go grab them then” Natasha said gently kissing your temple.

You were such a lucky girl.

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

Taglist - @bootlegmothman420 @littlephia @whippedforhongjoong @youngstarfishdinosaur @patchesofwork @buggyateabug @folklorefairie @friendlyneighborhoodkillerbunny @sparklybuck @2-gay-possums-in-a-trench-coat @hopelesswritergall @stuckysgirl27 @sleepyprinc3ss @chaotic-little-witch @looksthatkilledd @teddybearsgrr @fluffyblanketgecko

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hellsbarnes · 2 years

Note

thotty thursday: mob!bucky x stripper!reader x mob!steve, omg, that would be so amazing!

୨ 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙙𝙖𝙮 ₊˚ପ⊹ 𝙗.𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 • 𝙨.𝙧𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 ୧

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x stripper!reader x mob!steve

summary: bucky and steve punishes you after you break their rules, not that you mind though

warnings: nsfw, 18+, mdni, threesome, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie (please do not read if you're uncomfortable)

word count: 1.1k

author's note: my last thotty thursday fic is here! i hope you enjoy it and please remember to reblog, thank you!

“What was rule number one?” Bucky asks, looking towards you as you cross your legs, your perfectly styled hair falling down your shoulders, as you lean forward.

“I forgot,” you replied, smirking when Steve shoots you a glare, god if it was thing you loved, it was riling your men up, because hell, the two of them looked pissed off now, and if it were anyone else that was in your place, you were pretty fucking sure that they would have shit their pants by now.

But you, well, you wouldn’t, after all, you did love the way the two mobsters had their eyes fixated on you the whole time you were on that stage that sat right smack in the middle of the bar.

The songs that reverberated through the clubs encouraged you to step up, dressing up in one of your prettiest costumes, the material of the bralette doing practically nothing to hide your tits that looked as though they could spill out any second, and that thong, well let’s just say it was better if you wore nothing at all.

It wasn’t your fault you had every pair of eyes in the club on you, watching as you sauntered on stage in your six inch high heels, sultry smile on your lips as you put on a show, after all your stage name, “temptress” didn’t come from nothing, men and women cheered, wolf whistles following as you got down on your knees, licking your lips you collected dollar notes with your mouth.

“In case you forgot kitten, rule one was that only Bucky and I get to touch that pretty little ass of yours,” Steve grunts and you shrug, the memory of the two of them glaring daggers at the man that had paid you the most attention, he had practically thrown hundred dollar bills your way, copping a feel of your ass along the way.

You hadn’t really minded it, but seeing the way your men looked like they were ready to kill him, you figured that going a little further couldn’t hurt so you lean forward, watching as he stared at you, almost dumbfounded as you swung your legs over his shoulder.

Oh that was it, the next thing you knew, Bucky had stomped over, pulled you off the stage and into the very room you were in.

“Really, because neither of you have touched me, in a damn week,” You retort and Bucky smirks.

“Looks like our girl misses us Buck, what should we do?” Steve asks as he brings his whiskey to his lips, his baby blues gazing into yours as he did.

“I’d say we teach her a lesson, show our little cock slut what happens when she breaks the rules,”

“You heard the man kitten, on your knees, come over to me baby,” Steve commands, and you bite your lip, doing as he says, going on your knees, palms on the floor as you crawl over to Steve, whimpering when he leans forward, pressing a finger under your chin as he tilts your head, his eyes growing darker as Bucky chuckles.

“Look at her punk, all waiting for your cock aren’t you? You want to choke on Steve’s cock don’t you angel, want him to cum all over that pretty little face, want to be taken every way like the fucking cock slut you are” Bucky growls, slapping your ass hard and you mewl, taking the pain and you lick your lips as Steve pops the button of his jeans, the outline of his hard of his hard on pressing against his jeans.

“Come on kitten, it’s not gonna suck itself” Steve says and you nod, moving forward, unzipping his pants, and pulling his already hard cock out, it stood tall, pre cum leaking from its swollen tip, and you gave it a few pumps before you swirled your tongue around its tip, tasting the salty liquid, your eyes locking with his lust filled ones as you took his cock into the depths of your mouth, your mouth hollowing around his dick as you bobbed your head up and down.

“You gonna take her?” Steve asked, groaning when you took him all the way, choking on his cock as you did, tears brimming around the corner of your eyes as he cards through your hair, pulling it as he pushes your head down further, grunting as you gag on his cock, your hand pressed up against his thighs as you did, gasping for air when he lets go.

“Never seen such a pretty pussy, already so fucking wet aren’t you kitten?” Bucky asks and you managed to choke out a yes, moaning when he easily rips your thong off, groaning at the sight of your glistening wet cunt, you were practically dripping and your cries were muffled when Bucky slams into your pussy, barely giving you time to adjust as he stretches your walls deliciously, working up a rough pace as Steve shoves his cock back into your mouth.

Bucky digs his fingers into your hips, thrusting into you mercilessly, each time hitting your sweet spot, god, you were a mess, your mascara stained as you suck on the blonde’s cock while Bucky pounds into you, and all you could do was hang on for the ride as your men used you.

“You like it don’t you kitten, getting your holes filled,”

“I think she does Buck, look at her so fucking pretty with her lips ‘round my cock,” Steve replies and you whimper.

“Fuck, you’re so tight kitten, gonna cream all over my cock,” Bucky growls, and you nod, your back arching as you cave in to your own desires, the knot in your stomach tightening as you found yourself getting closer to the edge.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” Steve grunts, his head falling back as his mouth hung open, that only egged you on as you swirl your tongue around his cock, your moan sending sweet vibrations up his shaft and that was all it took for him to cum, groaning your name as he rewards you with ribbons of warm cum.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” Bucky asks and you nod as you move forward, cleaning Steve’s cock with your tongue, moans falling from your lips as Bucky slams into you over and over again, his thrusts growing erratic as you come undone, your walls tightening around his cock, pulsating as you dived headfirst into euphoria, pleasure washing over you as Bucky follows suit, groaning as he cums, his cock throbbing as he fills you up with his seed.

You were breathless, panting when Bucky pulled out, white stickiness dripping from your cunt. “It's not over kitten,” Steve starts, smirking as he wraps a hand around your neck, squeezing it as he helps you onto the couch.

“Not by a long shot, you need to be taught a lesson angelface,”

note: thank you so much for reading, please remember to reblog, see you soon!

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙙𝙖𝙮

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neonovember · 1 month

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!)

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

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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navybrat817 · 7 months

Text

Hollow

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky touches on memories from the past and wants to start a new tradition with you.

Word Count: Over 2.3k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal fingering, dirty talk, slight use of knife, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Fic #7 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Newlywed Mob!Bucky won the poll.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

A different side of Bucky came out when the leaves began to change. Subtle, but different. It wasn't noticeable to most since he showed people what he wanted them to see. It was a skill he perfected over the years, almost as if he wore a mask to hide his true self. What you saw, however, was ice in his eyes, the same that no doubt ran through his veins. Something weighed on his heart and mind.

You were determined to get to the bottom of it.

As his partner, it wasn't just your job to chase his demons away, but a need to protect him from whatever haunted or hunted him. You wanted to soothe him and let him know he wasn't alone. You knew if the roles were reversed that he'd eliminate anything or anyone that removed the light from your eyes. To have someone that loved you that much was still a bit of a dream.

How thin is the line between love and obsession?

“I can hear you thinking from here, Printsessa,” Bucky said. He knew you were watching him as he sat in his study, even as he focused on something else in front of him. He didn’t turn his back to anyone, except for you. He knew you would never put a knife in it. That was how much faith and trust he had in you. “Don’t want to join me?”

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” you replied, walking further into the room so you could get a better look at him. He had the sleeves of his button up shirt rolled up, giving you a moment to admire his metal left arm and the tattoos on the right. He commanded the room without standing.

“It's never an interruption if it's you,” he reminded you.

He twirled one of his signature knives between his fingers before he went back to work. The love of your life was an expert in many weapons, but had an affinity for knives. While it didn’t surprise you to find the head of the Bratva with a weapon in hand, you hadn’t expected to see a pumpkin in front of him. “Pumpkin carving? You’re just full of surprises.”

He snorted a little. “I like that I can surprise you.”

Watching him start to carve a pattern in the pumpkin with ease, his eyes narrowed in concentration and hand moving with care, was like a dance. He led with confidence and control. It was a beautiful thing to witness.

“Do you know why some people carve pumpkins?”

You finally took a seat beside him on the sofa, resting a hand on his thigh. His muscles relaxed and you wondered what had him so tense. “I think most do it today to decorate, but some do it to ward off evil spirits,” you said, moving your hand in slow, circular motions as he hummed in acknowledgement. “Is someone haunting you? Do I need to scare them away?”

He tilted his head, a glimmer of pride flickering in his blue eyes as he smiled. “You’d scare them away? You don't think I can handle them myself?”

“I have no doubt you could handle them on your own,” you said with complete certainty. He more than earned his Winter Soldier nickname. “But if something or someone is after you, I want to help.”

He studied you as he lowered his knife and covered your hand with his, holding it like a lifeline. Some protected and fought for him because it was their sense of duty. Others did so out of loyalty to his bloodline. You did it out of love.

Because you did love him.

“No one is after me. At least not today,” he assured you, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss it. “But thank you.”

“Then why are you holding my hand like you can't let go?”

The look he gave you melted your heart a bit. “Because I don't want to let you go.”

It was almost as if he was worried you'd bolt if he released you. The only time you'd run would be when you wanted him to chase you. Or maybe he imagined someone would try to take you away from him. He'd never let anyone get you. “What's on your mind then?”

And how do I help?

“My family,” he admitted, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “My mom used to carve pumpkins. I haven't done it in years.”

You didn’t speak for a moment. His family wasn’t a topic he discussed much, so you didn’t want to say the wrong thing. “Did she teach you how?”

A faint smile appeared and fell just as quickly. “She did,” he said, admiring his handiwork. “I thought it was strange at first, you know? Encouraging me to pull out the insides and leave it hollow. And to carve a face? It almost seemed like a form of torture. Probably why dad demanded I use a decent knife.”

He didn’t hide the hint of anger when he mentioned his dad. You turned your hand over so your palm connected with his, letting him squeeze it to ground him. “But that’s not why your mom did it. She was teaching you to do something beautiful instead of harmful.”

“That's exactly what she did,” he agreed, leaning forward to pick up the knife. “It also encouraged my critical thinking skills. You can’t just dive in without a plan. You have to think it through.”

Bucky sometimes teased that his best friend, Steve, was the man with a plan. The truth was, they both were. Each brilliant in their own way, there was a reason they stayed in power and why so many feared them.

“And I felt proud when she displayed them. Valued,” he continued, his voice a little choked up before he cleared his throat. “It was a tradition I didn't realize I missed.”

Maybe the nostalgia was the reason his eyes looked a bit colder in the fall. “Sounds like a beautiful memory,” you said.

“I hadn’t formed beautiful memories in years until you came along,” he said, his lips skimming your temple. “But you're my family now.”

Tears didn't fill your eyes, but you felt them in your throat. The man was ruthless when the occasion called for it. Terrifying in his rage. You were the lucky one who would never be on the receiving end of it. Only his love. His need. But you could take his rage if you had to.

Like his old memories, you could make it something beautiful.

“You're my family, too,” you told him. You hadn't expected that of Bucky when you met and part of you wanted to stay away from the dangerous world he helped rule, but how could you not want a life with him?

His gaze softened, which warmed your heart. “And I would feel very proud if you helped me finish this,” he said, moving further back against the cushion and opening his legs for you to sit between them. “Maybe it can be the start of our own tradition.”

Your heart raced as you stood up and took a seat on the edge of the cushion, exhaling as he pressed himself against you. “I’m not good at this,” you said, closing your hand around the handle as he placed the knife in it. You didn’t want to ruin the intricate design he already worked so hard on.

His warm breath tickled your ear as he whispered, “We’ll do it together.”

“Guide me?” You asked.

“Of course, Printsessa.”

At the root of everything, Bucky was a man who didn’t want to walk this earth alone. Power and money meant nothing if he didn’t have someone to share himself with. It would’ve left him as hollow as the pumpkins he worried about carving as a child. And if helping him finish this one would make him happy, you’d do just that.

Time passed as he helped you cut into the pumpkin and urged you to follow the stencil, the smell from the pumpkin seeds off to the side bringing a pleasant layer to Bucky's woodsy cologne. There was something intimate about him having you close, his hand directing where yours should go. Like when he taught you how to properly shoot a gun. He said you didn't need his help, but he gave it to you all the same.

Your hold almost slipped when his metal hand snaked between your thighs, softly rubbing your pussy through your underwear. It barely covered your mound, just like your flimsy nightgown. “How am I supposed to concentrate?” you asked, arching as he firmly pressed his palm against you.

“You asked me to guide you. I will,” he said, the light scratch from his scruff making goosebumps rise on your skin.

“You're distracting me,” you whispered, trying to keep your breathing nice and steady.

“Would distracting you be so bad?” he whispered back close to your ear. “We're almost done.”

His fingers gently played with your clit through the fabric, drawing a breathy sigh from you as you squirmed. His almost feathery touch made you all the more determined to finish up, especially since he refused to let you close your thighs to get any friction. You were on the edge of release and he was relentless in loving you.

But he didn't let you come.

“Good girl,” he praised once you finished carving, stopping his fingers as you set the knife down. You bit back a whimper as the rising pleasure faded. “It's beautiful.”

“It is,” you breathed. Instead of a smiling face you saw on so many pumpkins around Halloween, he designed a merged sun and moon. “It's us, isn't it?”

“It is,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before he gestured for you to hand him another knife. “You're my sun.”

“That makes you my moon,” you said, stiffening when you felt the blade at your shoulder. “What are you-”

Bucky sliced through your strap and kissed your bare skin. “I'm starting a new tradition,” he said, doing the same to the other side before he slid your nightgown down. He dragged the knife across your exposed breasts, taking great care not to cut you. “Carve a pumpkin. Cut your clothes off. Make you come.”

“You mean tease my pussy without getting me off,” you said without much bite.

He chuckled, a deep rumble as he set the knife aside. “I always get you off. I’m going to make you feel so good, Solynshko.”

With gentle kisses along your jaw and neck, his large hand slid up to fondle your breasts. The rough pads of his fingers teased your nipples as you gasped and reached back to grasp his hair. He moaned as you twisted your fingers in the strands, his hand sliding down to your wet heat again. Thankfully, he didn't tease you through the fabric this time. His fingers dipped into your underwear and you knew he was eager to feel your arousal.

Everything in your core tightened when he caressed your folds. You met his gaze as you tilted your head back, wanting him to see your desperation as his gaze darkened. “Make me come, please.”

“People beg me for money. Power. Mercy,” he said in a low voice, nuzzling your cheek as he sank a finger in, your walls contracting around him. “Not you. It's only pleasure you ask for.”

“It's you I'm begging for,” you admitted in a whisper. Even when you pushed or questioned why he wanted you of all people, you gave him your love. You yielded only to him and you would never bend your will for anyone else. To deny him would be to deny yourself.

He brushed his lips along your jaw and dipped another finger in as you shuddered. “You begging for me to fuck your pretty pussy with my fingers? Make you ruin this couch before I give you my cock?”

Your head fell back against his shoulder as you bit your lip. “Yes, I am. Ruin me. Love me,” you moaned.

“I love you more than anything,” he promised as your eyes slipped shut, dots of white dancing behind your eyelids.

He gripped your jaw to turn your head back to him, seeking out your lips with his. There was nothing tentative in the kiss, his ice meeting your fire and creating an explosion of need within both of you. Your body hummed as you felt the peak of your impending climax, ready for him to tear you apart.

“Come for me, Printsessa,” he demanded against your lips.

Your pussy clamped around his fingers as you lost yourself to the daze of your orgasm, shamelessly crying out his name. Your juices dripped down his fingers as he helped you ride it out, praising you in your ear and guiding you the way he did with the carving. He was telling the truth before: He always got you off.

“Are you okay?” you asked once you caught your breath, the question you meant to ask the moment you entered his study. He seemed more at ease, though lust now clouded his eyes.

“I'm okay,” he said in a rough voice, slowly pulling his fingers out as you sagged against him. He pulled you closer, enveloping you in his strong arms. It was safe. It was home. “But I think you need my cock.”

“I think I need it, too,” you smiled once you caught your breath, knowing his cock likely twitched in his pants as he tasted you on his fingers. “And you owe me a new nightgown.”

“I ordered you a new one before you came in here,” he said, his expression smug as you turned your head to stare at him. “Now sit on my cock. We have a long night ahead of us.”

“Bossy Pakhan,” you teased.

But if giving you orgasms, ruining your clothes, and making new memories brought the light back in his eyes, you wouldn't complain.

Oh, to belong to him. Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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thornsnvultures · 1 year

Text

I Spy: Chained

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Fem!Reader

cw: mob au, Bucky being a pervy daddy, ~500 words

a/n: written for @the-slumberparty , using this opportunity to have fun and write without weighing myself down with unfair expectations with what my writing has to be 😩

"Are these real diamonds? Bucky-,"

He tries to silence you with a kiss and fuck if it doesn't almost work. His lips are a warm, soft contrast to the stubble that surrounds them and as they trail up the exposed length of your neck your brain goes fuzzy. No, focus!

"Bucky, it's too much." His hands grip tighter around your waist and his nose nudges that spot just behind your ear. You're not sure anymore if you're talking about the necklace or his constant touches.

"It's never too much, darling. You're worth it and so, so much more."

Those lips press more kisses into your skin that trail down across the tops of your shoulders, pushing the delicate strap of your evening gown away when it impeads his progress. You're surprised he doesn't tear the offending strip of fabric from your garment for daring to get in his way. It wouldn't be the first time he took matters into his own hands when the world kept you from him.

"Besides," you feel his lips against your ear again, "the matching earring won't shine as brightly on their own."

"Bucky..."

"Now, hush. We're running late and unless you want a reminder on what happens to little girls who don't follow my rules again, you'll finish getting ready."

Heat rushes to your cheeks and your skin feels hot at the memory of thick leather cuffs binding your wrists and ankles.

If you were allowed to wear panties they would for sure be soaked by now, instead your slick coats the inside of your thick thighs as you watch Bucky adjust his cufflinks.

Quickly, you slide the strap of your dress back in place and take the delicate teardrop earrings from their resting place in the velvet box on your vanity.

Bucky watches you in the mirror as you put them on. The hunger on his face is clear. If this event wasn't so important for the family business, you wouldn't be going anywhere tonight.

"How do I look?"

"Like perfection." Bucky approaches you, eyeing you up and down as he brushes the backs of his fingers down your arm. His rings makes you shiver, the cold metal raising goosebumps across you skin and drawing more heat between your thighs, your core fluttering picturing him using those fingers on you in the backseat of his luxury sedan. You swear there's never a moment when his aren't on you, whether in reality or in your memories. Thoughts of them, their warmth, their strength, plague you throughout the day.

"We need to go before I this dress winds up on the floor."

"I was about to say the same thing."

Bucky closes his eyes and his jaw clenches, clearly working to restrain himself.

"We'll make it quick I promise."

"I'll hold you to it."

A slow, cocky smirk spreads across your husband's face, "I'll give you something to hold when we get to the car."

#bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes drabble #navy and roo sleepover #my fics #bucky barnes mob!au

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queers-gambit · 2 months

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are you in the mood to write for bucky?? If so, i had this idea in my head where bucky is going shopping with the reader and theyre buying sundresses together. The idea is just that he is VERY enamoured and kinda just floored by all of them, wondering how his life got so domestic and wonderful. You're free to add smut or fluff as you wish, i just love how you write. Have a good day babe!

hey, sweetheart! thank you for requesting! sorry it took me so long!

anyways i finally got this done and i think you're really gonna like it! you know me, i got a raging hard-on for mafia!bucky barnes so hopefully this satisfies what you wanted! be sure to come back and lemme know what you think!

all my love 🖤

read here: Adore Her, Dior Her

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #mafia bucky x reader #mafia bucky x female!reader #mafia bucky barnes x reader #mafia bucky barnes x female!reader #mob!bucky #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky au #mob bucky barnes x reader

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crazyunsexycool · 1 year

Text

Is it a crime?

Chapter 5

Pairing: Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes x Mob Boss!Reader

word count: 5.0k

warnings:Bucky being a bit of a simp, teeth pulling (just one), knife use, heavy petting (If I forgot something please let me know)

series masterlist

Ch. 4

7 years ago There have been too many close calls recently. Pierce’s men were coming out of the woodwork trying to track you down and take you back. This time one of them had found you as you finished a job. There were enough people that hated Pierce and would either look the other way when they saw you or gave you odd jobs. It was enough to keep money in your pocket and allow you to keep moving. You couldn’t settle in one place for too long like you had in the sleepy town you were currently leaving. It’s how you ended up in the bathroom at a truck stop at 3:00 am cleaning up some wounds. The last guy Pierce sent out almost managed to knock you out but at the last second you got the upper hand. You were throwing away the used supplies when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Are you ok?”

You looked up at the owner of the voice. “I’m fine.” You said, hoping the woman would leave you alone.

“You’re bleeding. Did someone hurt you? Do you need help?”

“I said I’m fine.”

“I can stitch up that wound.” She insisted.

You turn to look at her. She was tall with tanned skin and dark hair and she looked genuinely concerned for you. “Back off.”

You threw everything in the trash can and walked out. She followed.

“Listen if that doesn’t get treated properly you can get an infection.”

You looked over your shoulder as you turned the corner to walk out of the bathroom. “I said back off. If you don’t then uff-“ you walked right into someone as you stepped out.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see you there… Y/N?”

You looked up and you couldn’t believe your eyes. “Jake?” You reached out to touch him. Maybe you were dying and you were hallucinating or something.

Jake pulls you in for a hug, a bone crushing hug that has you cry out in pain. He pulls back holding you at arms length as his eyes look you over. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“Jensen, you know her?” The woman that had followed you out asked.

“Yeah, she’s my best friend.”

“Are you two done? We’ve got to head out.” Someone else spoke but you were too wrapped up in finally having someone you knew close that you didn’t pay attention to them.

“Hey are you with me?”

“Yeah, it’s just- it’s been so long since I’ve seen a friendly face. I’m so fucking tired JJ.”

He hugged you again, softly this time and you returned the hug. Silently Jake leads you to a canary yellow hummer limousine and at some other time you would have found it hilarious but you weren’t sure what was happening. Jake introduced you to his team.

“And you are?”

“Clay this is Y/N Y/L/N.”

“The mob princess?” Roque asked

“I’m not a princess.” You snapped.

“Sorry, we’ve heard a lot about you.” He held his hands up defensively. “Mostly from this one.”

“She’s my best friend, we grew up together and we need to help her.”

“Jensen, we can’t. We’re going after Max. We have enough on our plate.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Are you joking? Look at you.”

“It was just a job. I’m doing just fine on my own.” you scoff.

“Nothing to do with Pierce’s men going after you?”

You averted your eyes. Jake had a way of reading you that rivaled Bucky.

“How much longer can you stay alone on the road? They’re going to catch up to you sooner or later. Join us.” Jake offered without even asking the others.

“No way, we don’t know her.” Clay spoke up.

“If she can’t come with us then I’m out.”

You sat on a chair across from who everyone has nicknamed fake Jake. The resemblance was uncanny and if you didn’t know Jake as well as you did you would have thought this was him. He had been there since the early hours of the morning but you had still been dealing with Tommy at the club. Now you were here on two hours of sleep and not enough coffee. It was the perfect mix to have you feeling irritated at the idiot in front of you.

“So fake Jake, what is your boss up to?” you ask.

“My name isn’t Jake.”

“You’re tied to a chair in a warehouse and your main concern is us getting your name right.” Roque smacks him across the back of his head. “Answer her question.”

“I don’t know.”

“Wrong answer.”

“Were you going to do any other jobs for him?” you sigh. “Was Rumlow going to have you impersonate Jake again?”

He doesn’t answer, instead you see his jaw move around. You narrow your eyes, it’s an odd movement and then you remember.

“Open his mouth right now!” Roque moves and grabs his face, forcing him to open his mouth. You grab a pair of pliers and a flashlight and turn it on to look into his mouth.

He tried to move around to keep you away from what you inevitably found, a molar replaced with a single dose of cyanide. With the pliers you pulled until it was out. You inspected it and scoffed before setting it down on the table. Roque lets your guest’s face go as he inspects what you pulled from his mouth.

“What the hell is this princess?” Roque asked with a disgusted look on his face.

“Hydra’s insurance policy. It’s a cyanide capsule hidden under a fake tooth. All members are required to get one and if they’re caught by police or their enemies with no way out they’re expected to use them. It’s the same trick Pierce has had in his playbook for years.”

“You don’t have one of these do you.”

“Of course not. But it does let us know something important, isn’t that right fake Jake?” You look back at the man in front of you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know anything and if I did I wouldn’t tell you anyways. Pierce scares me but you’re just some little bitch playing pretend.”

You smile as you get up and walk over to the table and grab some brass knuckles and a knife. Slipping them on your fingers and admiring them the same way you would a ring before walking back to the imposter. You connect your fist with his jaw, a grunt flying from his mouth. With a quick movement you drive the knife into his thigh and twist it. He yells a string of curses before looking up at you before you do it again.

“You should be scared of me, who do you think taught me how to do this? And I’m so much worse than he is. Pierce is set in his ways and doesn't like change. With him you’d be dead by now, but we’re just getting started.” You smirk and punch him in the ribs. “Tell me what you know.”

“I don’t know a lot.”

You raised an eyebrow as you twirled your knife around. His chin trembled as his eye followed the movement. As you move to stab him again he fights against his restraints, so much so that he falls over.

“No, wait! Wait please. I’ll tell you.”

You lower your hand and sit down.

“I want to know everything you do.”

“You can’t go in there without an appointment.” A petite blonde stood in front of you, her arms crossed. You thought it was cute that she believed that was enough to stop you from walking in.

“Well, if you would have scheduled me in I wouldn’t have to barge into Stark’s office now would I?”

You step around her, Jake following close behind looking a bit apologetic at Stark’s secretary. It might possibly cost her the job but you have more important things to worry about. You don’t knock instead just turning the doorknob and pushing it open. Inside you find Tony and Nat pressed up against each other. You smirked as they scramble to put some space in between them.

“Sorry, was I interrupting something?”

“No.” Nat scoffs as she straightens herself up.

“Well then you should let Tony’s dick know.”

Tony does his best to hide the bulge in his pants before sitting down. He glares at you as he grabs his office phone and calls his secretary a quick you’re fired is all he says before hanging up. Nat excuses herself and closes the door on her way out.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’ve tried to set up a meeting with you but you’ve been busy. So I decided to just show up to see if you could squeeze me in.”

“Why?”

“We’ve got very interesting information and as a courtesy I thought that I would come to let you know that you have a few hydra members working for you.”

“There’s no fucking way that there are any hydra members here. I do thorough background checks on all of my employees before I hire them.” He glares at you as he leans forward resting his arms on top of his desk.

“Have you ever checked on any of your employees after you’ve hired them?”

He doesn’t respond.

“Didn’t think so.” You smile. “I happen to have proof if you don’t believe me. Your employee, Garrett Warren who looks a lot like Jake, was working for you for six months when Rumlow approached him. Rumlow had him dress up like Jake recently and sneak into Barnes’ warehouse to try and set us up. He gave me a lot more information this morning after our one-on-one.”

“Ok so you took care of Warren, what do you want?”

“Warren started recruiting others that work here. I suggest you clean house.” You pull a piece of paper out of your purse and place it on the desk.

“What is this going to cost me?”

“Oh Tony, why would you think I’m going to charge you?” You smile sweetly.

“Because you are your mother’s daughter.”

You look at him curiously. What did your mom have to do with any of it?

“Let’s just say you’ll owe me one.”

He rolls his eyes before grabbing the list you gave him. You see his eyes scanning the names, his jaw clenching more the further down he went.

“I want to talk to Warren first.”

“You can drop by whenever you want. Meanwhile Jake here has the information on the program Warren installed within your company.”

“Now you’re saying I don’t know what software is running in my systems?”

“I was able to get into your servers in about a minute, Warren left a back door open when he tried to delete footage from the security cameras at Barnes’ warehouse.” Jake supplies.

“Like I said, I want to talk to Warren first. Then we can talk about that favor.”

“Deal.” You get up from your seat and start heading out with Jake following you. “Make sure the door is locked next time, Stark.”

“Get the fuck out, Y/L/N.” He says with slight amusement.

Bucky had been in his office all day, as expected. If he wasn’t giving his own men orders and keeping his territory free of any hydra men, Bucky was handling his father’s men. Everyday more responsibility fell on Bucky, still his father refused to give up control completely. If he wasn’t in some type of fight with people that wanted to do harm to him or his family, he was cleaning up his father’s fuck ups. Like at this very moment where he was moving money around because his father spent thousands on who knows what. He had been smart enough to separate his own money from his father’s early on and invested it in his own business deals both legal and not. With it, Bucky had been branching out and financially supporting his mother and sister. It was one responsibility he would gladly take from George's hand. Still his moves needed to be cautious and calculated, Bucky had plans to completely remove himself from under his father’s thumb and have the freedom he so desperately wanted.

“What are you looking at?” Steve’s voice interrupted the solitude Bucky liked so much. He glared at his right hand man for just a moment before accepting the glass of scotch Steve had placed on the desk in front of him.

“The contract.”

“Again?”

“There has to be a way out of it.” Bucky said as he grabbed his drink and drank it in one big gulp.

He hadn’t looked at the contract in months. It’s what he had signed when he agreed to marry Dot. There had been a lot of back and forth between himself, George and Dot’s father as to what the contract should include. After months of arguing everyone agreed and Bucky signed his life away. Back then he thought he would never see you again and if he had to get married at the insistence of his father he might as well get something out of it. It’s why he had made his own demands. But now that you’re back and he has a chance to be with you again he couldn’t care less about the contract and his requests, he would find another way for his requests to be fulfilled. Bucky knew if he asked you to back him up you would but he wanted to get out of this himself. He was tired of needing someone to bail him out of his own problems and he wanted to do this on his own to prove he could do it.

“Why don’t you call her and ask to see her?”

“No, I can’t be distracted. I want to figure this out first.”

“It’s already late, give it a rest Buck. Call Y/N I bet she’ll want to see you too. I’ll send this to Murdock to look over it. If anyone can find anything it’ll be him and Foggy.”

“Fine, I’ll go. Worry about this tomorrow though.” Bucky said as he grabbed his phone with the intention of messaging you.

You had just finished showering and getting dressed with the intention of getting some actual sleep when your phone buzzed.

Bucky: busy?

Y/N: not for you.

Bucky: I want to see you

Y/N: where?

Bucky: the hideout.

You smiled as you replied that you’d be there in 20 minutes.

15 years old

It had been one month since Bucky had asked you out on a date and that same night had asked you to be his girlfriend officially. Your father found out a few days later and although he assured you it was ok you suddenly found that you had more bodyguards than before. It was a precaution he said, but really it was to make sure you and Bucky spent as little time alone as possible. But what your father wasn’t aware of was both of your abilities to sneak around. It was how you found yourself standing in front of an abandoned building in the Barnes territory on a Saturday at 11:00 pm. You had checked the note that Bucky had given you earlier to make sure you had the correct address as you eyed the chain link fence that surrounded the property. A large no trespassing sign hung in front of you and for a moment you thought this was some kind of prank before you heard your name being called.

“You made it.” Bucky said with a smile. He placed a kiss on your cheek and his arm around your shoulder once he stopped next to you.

“I thought you were pranking me. This building is off limits, why are we here?”

“It’s a surprise. And it’s not off limits, it belongs to my dad,” He grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the alley and then to the fire escape. “Here, can you hold this?” He handed you a rather heavy backpack before pulling down on the ladder. He grabbed the bag again and hung it over his shoulder before motioning for you to go first.

It was quick work for both of you to get up the first ladder before Bucky stopped you. He made quick work of opening a window so that you could use the regular stairs. With his hand intertwined with yours he led you up to the final floor. Bucky covered your eyes and led you through a door at the end of the hall.

“Surprise.” He said quietly as his hands fell from your eyes revealing what he had brought you for.

The space seemed like it was meant to be an office but it lay empty. Well almost empty. There were bean bag chairs and lanterns everywhere casting a soft glow as well as a small coffee table with a radio sitting on top. The building was tall enough that you could see a good part of Brooklyn from the huge windows opposite the door. There was a broom in the corner along with some big black trash bags. It’s obvious he had cleaned up.

“What is this place?”

“My dad bought this building a while back and plans for it fell through. He can’t seem to sell it to anyone. I thought we could use it. It can be our hideout, you know, for when our dads get annoying.” he said with a grin as he walked further into the room. He took off the backpack he brought with him and looked back up as he pulled something out. “I brought you a blanket, I know you always get cold and snacks.”

Bucky held out the blanket and you moved towards him, snatching the blanket and taking a seat in one of the bean bag chairs. He sat next to you and offered you a small pink box. A cupcake from your favorite bakery. You thanked Bucky as you grabbed one and he took the other. He kept his eyes on you as you continued to look around.

“I thought we could make it nicer, you know. Bring in some more stuff to decorate it however you want.”

“We’ll make it the perfect place.” you said with a smile.

The smile that appeared on your face made your cheeks hurt as you stepped out of your car. It was obvious the building had been renovated but that couldn’t take away all the memories made there. The parties Bucky would have there when your parents wouldn’t allow you to have one at home, the many, many times you would sneak out and meet him there after not being able to see each other for days or weeks at a time. You stepped onto the sidewalk as you admired the building. The chain link fence was long gone but you wondered if Bucky would have you climb the fire escape for old times sake. The front door of the building opens to reveal Bucky. He waves you over and you realize for the first time you hadn’t seen him dressed so casually since you came back. You were glad to have come dressed comfortably after seeing him. He had on a black t-shirt under a leather jacket and dark wash jeans. His eyes were bright, his smile mirrored yours and he looked good. So good it should be illegal.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Come on in.” He opens the door wider to let you in.

“Wow.” Was all you managed to get out. The lobby was completely renovated. There was tile on the floor, the walls were painted and everything looked new. There was some furniture covered with plastic sitting around. “Are you actually using this building?”

“Not yet, but I’m making it my new office.”

“I thought George was going to sell it.” you said as you walked further in.

“He did, to me. I just couldn’t let this place go.”

You looked at him over your shoulder, his eyes were on you but somehow it was like he wasn’t really looking at you. It was more like he was reliving memories of your time spent here. He smiled sweetly at you when he realized you were looking at him and extended his hand, which you happily took.

“Come on, I’ve got a surprise.”

“I’ve heard that before.” you chuckled as he pulled you towards the new elevators.

Bucky lifted your hand to his lips and placed a quick kiss on it as you waited for the elevator to stop at the last floor. When the doors opened you let Bucky pull you along the newly renovated but still familiar hallway. At the end was the room you spent a lot of your time in. The door was closed and a small private sign was screwed on to it. Bucky pulled a key out of his pocket and gave it to you to unlock the door.

A small gasp escapes you as you take in the room. The windows still gave you that view you had missed. Long gone are the bean bag chairs, they’re now replaced with some couches. A small bar was on one side of the room, shelves sitting high above it filled with pictures and memories from when you were younger. The room was dimly lit and inviting. Opposite the bar there were a few bookshelves and a music system. It had everything you and Bucky had talked about adding to liven up the place.

Bucky’s arm’s wrap around you from behind as he rests his chin on your shoulder. You fall back into him as you bring your hands to cover his.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s perfect.” You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smiling. He lets go of you and moves his hand to your lower back, guiding you into the room.

“Want a drink?”

“Sure, do you have wine?”

“Absolutely.” He says as you take a seat and he moves behind the bar. A few minutes later he’s handing you a glass of your favorite wine as he sits down next to you.

You take a sip and savor it. “How did you know this was my favorite?”

“That’s top secret.”

“You asked Sarah?”

“I asked Sarah.” He sighed as you giggled. Bucky sat back, getting comfortable and as he rested his arm against the back of the couch you moved to lean against him. You rest your head on his shoulder as you get comfortable yourself.

You both sat in comfortable silence for a while. Every once in a while you felt Bucky place a chaste kiss on your forehead, or you would hold his free hand. But the longer you sat there, the more the one question you wanted to ask him kept nagging at you. You sit up and you drink the last of your wine before placing the glass on the coffee table in front of you.

“I need to ask you something.”

“Anything.”

“Do you love her?” You ask cautiously. It scared you more than any situation you’ve ever been in. If he said yes you weren’t sure what you would do with yourself. But you saw the way his face twisted in anger.

“No, absolutely not. I can’t even stand being in the same room as her,” Bucky sat up straighter and turned to look at you. “The only reason I’m even engaged to her is because of a deal my father made with her��s.”

“What kind of deal?”

“If it’s ok I’d really prefer not to talk about it right now. I’ve spent all day trying to find a way out of it.”

“Ok, why are you trying to get out of it?”

“Well, you see there is this woman I know. She’s beautiful, sexy, intelligent, a total badass. Don’t even get me started with how hot she is when she handles a weapon.” Bucky wiggles his eyebrows and you smile. “Anyways she just so happens to come back into my life recently and I really want her back. I can’t really have her back fully if I’m engaged to someone else.”

“She sounds like a lucky woman to have your heart like that.”

“I like to think I’m the lucky one. Hopefully I have her heart too.” He said as he moved closer to you.

“I’m pretty sure you do. She’s be kind of dumb to not love someone like you. Especially if you’re doing something like that for her.”

“Well, I’d do anything for her.” Bucky added before his lips barely touched yours.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Dance with me?” You whispered against him. Bucky let out a small annoyed groan but it stopped quickly when you pressed your lips to his. It was too fast to even be considered a kiss but it was still there. You got up and went to the shelf where there was a new radio and turned it on, searching until you found a random slow song. It was a well known fact that Bucky doesn’t dance but that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t ask him to once in a while. You thought you would have to ask him again but you were pleasantly surprised that he was up and moving the coffee table.

You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around each other and began to sway to the music.

“You know this means I get to feel you up now right?”

“You can feel up whatever you want, baby.”

“Is that right?” you nod in response before you feel his hands move from your waist to the small of your back until he slid them over your ass, giving you a quick squeeze. “That can get you in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“Only the best kind.”

You give a little hum of acknowledgement as you press your body against his. Resting your head against his shoulder and hiding your face in the crook of his neck, Bucky takes the opportunity to hum along with the song that filled the air. He swayed side to side while enjoying having you in his arms. That was until he felt your lips on his neck. Little nips and kisses left behind in a trail up his cheek.

“What are you doing?” he whispers.

“Making up for lost time.”

The words had barely escaped your lips when you felt Bucky lift you. Your legs wrapped around him as he walked back to the couch and gently placed you down before settling between your legs. That was one thing you loved about him. No matter what was going on, he was always so gentle with you. His touch, his love. No matter the things he’d done or seen, not even the abuse he’d survived at the hands of his father could break him. There was no doubt that Bucky could be cruel and vicious if needed, you had seen it on a number of occasions and heard about it in the years after you had been driven out of New York.

But right now, in this moment where it was just you and him wrapped up in each other he was the man you knew. His eyes were bright and his smile soft. It was what you remembered from before this mess. Bucky hovered above you, just like he had so many times before in the same exact room. Your hands had moved from around his neck to cup his cheek, you couldn’t help but study his face. You’d notice how much he’s changed. The little scars here and there most likely from fights that made his face their permanent home. The stubble that he had started to let grow out some. His lips, pink and inviting. Before you could make the move he lowered his head. His lips crashing against yours. They were just as you remembered, maybe even better. There was no fight for dominance when his tongue slipped between your parted lips because your trust in him ran so deep you would give him control whenever he asked for it.

His hands were another story, somehow calculated and determined as they followed the path along your body as they did so many times before but also eager to relearn what made you putty in his hands. It was now his turn to move to your neck, kissing his way down until he found that spot that had you weak and moaning for him. You were a mess under him, your hands were in his hair or gripping his biceps. Bucky’s hands slide under your shirt and you shudder at the cool sensation of his left hand as it inches up to your chest. He groans as you roll your hips against his hardening length. Cursing under his breath he pulls away, sitting up and looking down at you.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want it to be like this.”

You sit up and place a hand on his chest and moving up to his neck, you pull him down for one more kiss. Bucky rests his forehead against yours while keeping his eyes closed.

“You have no idea how bad I want you, bug. But I’m not going to make you feel like the other woman.”

“I know.” You smile up at him. “Just know that I want you too.”

“You’re going to make me change my mind if you say things like that.”

“A girl can try. Come on, we can at least cuddle right?”

“Yeah, we can do that.” He answers as he sits back down. Bucky gets comfortable against the arm rest before you move to lay against him.

The radio fills the comfortable silence, Bucky plays with your hair and you feel safe enough to want to drift off into sleep. It’s the first time in a long time where you don’t feel like you have to carry the weight of everything on your shoulders alone. Bucky’s here with you, keeping you safe and warm. He mumbles sweet nothings in your ear and promises of a new future together once everything is over. Your eyes close, there is a smile on your lips as you savor the small moment of peace you have with the man you love.

Completely unaware of the rushed footsteps heading your way.

Ch. 6

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sokovianheadtilt · 2 years

Text

Princess and the Knight

Mafia!Bucky Barnes x black!reader

Summary: Bucky would do anything for you, and he means that

Warnings: Violence, assault, murder

A/N: Dipped my toes into the world of writing for mob Bucky, enjoy!!!

Word Count: 1.2k

Tonight was supposed to be a fun night out with your friends. With work making you more tense than usual, you didn’t hesitate to accept Natasha’s invitation for a girls' night out at a nearby bar. But everything wasn’t going as you hoped.

When you and your friends first arrived, you didn’t hesitate to go to the bar and order a round of shots. Shouts of happiness rang out across the group and you felt at ease. You were surrounded by people you always had fun with, and that was what you focused on. You even let a couple of guys buy you drinks because who would turn that down?

After about 20 minutes, you all decided to move onto the dance floor. You were singing along to the song that was blasting, it was one of your favorites as you danced with your other friend Wanda. A smile was permanently plastered on your face and you were having a great time. That was until a creep decided to ruin your fun.

You didn’t even notice him until you were dancing, you could spot him in the corner of your eye watching your every move. He looked gross and greasy, definitely not someone you’d even walk up to. Besides, you were already with Bucky, the love of your life. He was everything you wanted in a man. He held an undying loyalty to you, treated you like a queen, showered you with love and gifts, and being with him was heaven. He was also involved in one of the biggest mob organizations in the city. At first, he tried to hide his lifestyle from you. His wealth being covered up with coming from old money which wasn’t entirely untrue, but it was only part of it. He finally mustered up the courage to tell you what he does for a living, wondering if you would run off or not, and you didn’t.

You were his, and him being a mob boss wouldn’t change it. He just made sure to never bring his work around you, no matter what. He didn’t want you to see the violent side of him. He was always going to be gentle with you, not wanting you to be scared of him, and you loved it. He would die for you, kill for you, but you never wanted to test that, but maybe you might have to.

When you notified Wanda of the strange man, she pulled you away towards the back of the crowd away from his eyesight. You tried to shake the man from your mind and resumed having a good time. That was until you felt two hands set on your waist. You quickly pushed them off and turned around, seeing the man standing behind you.

“What the fuck dude?!” You yelled at him over the music

“Just wanted to dance with you, what’s the harm in that?” He replied smugly

You scoffed “Yeah but I didn’t ask you to, besides I have a boyfriend”

“And he let you leave the house like that?” He pointed to your skin-tight sheer black dress

“Let me? I’m my own person you prick, and besides, he said I looked pretty so” you tilted your head “Still doesn’t give you the right to just grab me like that”

“I hardly grabbed you, don’t be so dramatic. If you didn’t want people to approach you don’t leave the house dressed like a whore”

Your eyes widened and you went to lunge at him before Wanda pulled you back as you kept yelling at him. She led you out of the bar and turned to face you “You alright?” She asked

“Yeah I’m fine” you shuddered “I just- he’s a prick” you crossed your arms “How dare he just put his hands on me then call ME a whore? Who does he think he is?”

Wanda rubbed the side of your arm as you continued to be angry, muttering to yourself. “I know what to do” you pulled your phone out of your purse “Gonna show that asshole who he messed with” you dialed Bucky’s number and held the phone to your ear.

“Hey darling, having fun?” He spoke first

“No! Can you come down here please?” You pleaded

Bucky frowned and immediately pulled on a shirt and shoes “I’ll be there in five minutes” he hung up. You held back a smile, he didn’t even need a reason, he was always going to come when you needed him.

Wanda looked at you “You know he’s gonna probably kill him right?”

You nodded “Mhm”

Wanda giggled and shook her head as you both waited for Bucky to show up.

Not even five minutes later, Bucky pulls up outside of the bar, getting out of it and standing tall in all his 6’4 glory. You didn’t hesitate to go over to him and wrap your arms around him, resting your head against his chest. He held you close and kissed the top of your head “What happened sweetheart?”

You looked up at him “Some guy was being creepy and kept staring at me the whole night, and when we went to go dance he followed me and tried to dance with me, put his hands on my waist, and when I tried to tell him off he called me a whore for wearing my dress”

You watched as Bucky’s eyes darkened “Where is he?” “He should still be in there, we didn’t see him leave”

He nodded “Show me who he is”

You nodded a bit and took his hand, bringing you inside as you looked around “Over there, him”

Bucky nodded “Why don’t you go outside with Wanda okay? I’ll take care of it”

You followed his instructions and kissed his cheek before leaving once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky went to approach the guy you pointed out to him. He went over and grabbed him by the neck, dragging him out of the bar and out to the alley behind it. He shoved him against a wall before punching him square in the face and hitting him in the stomach, watching him double over in pain.

“The fuck’s your problem?!” The guy groaned

He crouched down so he was eye-level with him “You know, I don’t usually take kindly to people treating my girl like she’s not the goddess she is, especially not from guys who call her a whore”

He looked at Bucky “You mean that bitch who was mad because I wanted to dance with her she’s the one who wanted to overreact”

Bucky punched him again before standing up and pulling out the gun he had tucked in his pants “If she didn’t feel threatened she wouldn’t have called me, and when she calls me, something isn’t right” Bucky kept staring at the man as he loaded his gun “You know what happens now right?”

“Please- don’t kill me-“

“Too late” he rose the gun and shot him straight in the head, watching his body fall to the ground. He put the gun away before calling Sam to clean his mess up.

He soon walked back over to you and took your hand, kissing the back of it. “Everything okay?” You asked him

“Yeah honey, he won’t bother you again. Why don’t I take you home hm?”

You nodded “Okay” you turned to Wanda and bid her goodbye as Bucky drove you both home.

He would do anything to protect his queen, and he meant it.

#sokovianheadtilt #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #black!reader #black!fem!reader

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