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neonovember · 1 year

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Lemon meringues

steve rogers mafia!au

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.

a/n: this is the first instalment of a series, I honestly don't know how long it will be, but ill try to update every week!

Your hand reaches to grab the disregarded ceramic mugs perched at the middle of the wooden table, deep mahogany coffee stains the edges of the porcelain mugs and the crumbs of David’s famous croissant litter the table.

“All done here?” You smile, your arm balancing a plate of waffles and toast, you hope to god that they’ll just leave you be, your shift has just begun and the way your back ached had you wishing you’d crawled back under the covers, angry landlord and manager be damned.

The faces of the men that sat nodded, eyes not leaving each other as if you weren't even there. Each of them had the same scruffy 7-day stubble as if they had all collectively chosen to throw out their razors. Trucker caps fitted tightly and flannel shirts peeked through large navy jackets buttoned tight against the harsh July cold. The weather here could get brutal, you’d learned that your first winter with frozen pipes and a heater that spoke only puffs of grey smoke.

They show no action of gratitude, but they don't unnecessarily incapacitate you either, exactly how you like it. Nodding you make your rounds to the other tables, wiping down any remnants of spilt drinks and crumbs from the diner tables and booths. It labourers work, but it's still work. And you don't know what would happen if you lost that measly laughable income you earned from waitressing.

As long as you were far and between from him, you kept reminding yourself, every chime of the diner door opening had your hairs bristling and your stomach in twists, he’d never find you here, he couldn’t, you’d made sure of it. Hell, you’d erased your entire life, left it all behind, he couldn't hurt you now. At least that's what you told yourself.

The white-hot fear still slips down your spine whenever you see a familiar shirt he’d wear though, or a voice that sounded like him when he was mad, or the sound of boots behind you, or- god you’d be in therapy if it didn’t cost you a limb.

The soft downpour outside provided a melodic track to your routine, the sea of blue and navy umbrellas moving in unison to escape the rain. The sound of it put you at ease, you've always loved the rain, the way it slid down your face and washed away all the fears you carried. The smell of the earth after it rained, steam rising from the dirt and roads was something you've come to appreciate.

It was the only things you could, the small things, things that had been taken from you, berated and crushed within his iron grip.

“Why are you wasting time smelling the flowers?”

His voice soon followed your every thought, every move, every desire. As if your mind was asking permission- “Please?”.

You forgot what it felt like to live within a body that was fully yours, and not pinned up with strings that were in his grasp. Now you could stop and raise your face to the sky and let the droplets pepper your skin without fearing the downpour of his anger.

“You silly girl, you silly stupid girl”

Well, at least the one that isn't in your head.

The snap of diner door opens abruptly, slamming against the wall, as an umbrella pops through, your neck bristles with fear, shoulders tense and eyebrows furrowed.

Please no

It's a man, donning a deep maroon velvet coat, the buttons fitted and the material stretched against his chest. His golden locs were smoothed back, a scruff that seemed purposeful lining his jaw, the water from his umbrella runs down its rooves and ridges, gathering at his feet and seeping into the laminate floor. It doesn't matter, it isn’t him.

You quickly dust off your apron, gathering your rags before popping them under the compartment behind the till, the man is perusing through the collection of pastries and breakfast sandwiches displayed in the clear case.

“The lemon meringue is to die for,” You say, smiling at his indecision, You had many like him come in, overwhelmed with the many selections and flavours, not knowing where to begin.

He looks up quickly, eyes racking over your face, his cerulean blues darken for a moment, before a smile cracks over his features.

“That obvious?” He jokes, hands tucked into the pocket of his coat.

“Don’t worry about it, everybody has a first time at something” You reply, fingers wringing as you smile. His gorgeous up close, the kind of features that were clean-cut and old-fashioned. Like he didn't need to try so hard to capture anyone's attention, soft lips curl up as he notices your intense stare, and you quickly shake off your borderline stalker-ish ways.

“Well, in that case, I’ll get the meringue and a club special,” He says, hands coming up to brush through his golden locks dirtied by the rain.

You ring his order through the till, fingers almost missing the keys as you hurry to have him seated, he always hated being waited on, there were countless times when his lack of patience and your tardiness left you bruised and bloody.

The man reaches into his coat pocket to pull out a deep leather wallet, it reminds you of your father and it has you smiling softly. He hands you a hundred-dollar bill, and when you try to hand back his change he stops you with his hands quickly.

The feeling of the rough pads of his fingers shoots an intensity up your arm like you've been shocked and you pull your hand away quickly. The man stares intently at your hands, eyes surveying your frame as he rests them on your face.

“Keep the change..I’m sure” He finally says, hands back in his pocket only this time in tight fists.

You thank him generously, tucking the rolls into your side, tips never seemed to cover enough of your pay, and you think this man may have saved you from sleeping outside.

He doesn't say much, just nods, the same darkened look covering his features as he slides into a corner booth, the downpour above sheathed the morning sky in a deep dark navy. Causing the diner to be cloaked in a shadowed darkness as if it were evening instead of noon. The only thing providing light was the soft yellow overhanging ceiling lamp. It gave it a romantic feel that covered his features in a soft glow, and for some strange reason, you had the urge to know what his beard would feel like between your fingers.

Walking urgently back to the counter, you hand up the man's order for David, indiscretidely asking him to give him extra helpings. You carefully slice a cut of the meringue onto one of the ceramic plates, cleaning the edges and keeping it chilled.

David calls your name, motioning towards the finished sandwich that looked like if you didn't walk carefully it would topple over and onto the floor.

David winks at you, his jet-black hair pulled into a tight bun, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling as he takes notice of your ulterior motive.

“When were ya gonna tell me about lover boy?” David teases, chin resting on his arms.

“Cmon David, he just gave me a good tip” You scoff humourselly, him? He wouldn't even look at you that way. You knew his type the moment you caught a glimpse of his goddamn cufflinks, besides, the rings adorning his fingers etched with the unmistakable A, told you he was in a business you wanted no part of. You weren't bout to jump into a relationship after just escaping your last, no, you definitely were not ready for that.

Yet a strange filling crept through your stomach, and it had you taking glances at his crouched figure in the booth, he was tall enough to the point where you could see the tussles of his golden locks, now dried and mused.

Snapping out of your stupor, you go to reach for his meal before another hand reaches for it, what is it today and people's hands? Chipped red nail polish and rubbery lips meet your gaze as Caroline smiles up at you.

“Mare’s asking if you could clean up the puddle in front of the diner door, says it’s quote on quote a cleaning hazard” Caroline rolls her eyes, tongue clicking as she shakes her head

“If she cared that much about following protocol she’d pay us a goddamn living wage” Caroline mutters loud enough for yout o hear, cautious of your domineering manager's watchful gaze.

You snicker, reaching for the mop at the corner of the diner,

“Who that?” Caroline says, motioning towards the golden-haired man with her chin, curiosity filling her eyes.

“That, is your customer, who just ordered a meringue and sandwich because of yours truly” You reply, eyes finding their way back to him.

Caroline nods, reaching for the meringue in the fridge,

“He even tipped me like over eighty bucks” You whisper, the reality of it still shocking you

Caroline swiftly turns to you at that, her dark auburn plaits whipping across her chest at her movements

“No shit? Cute and a gentleman, if there is one person in this god-forsaken place who deserves it it’s you” Caroline retorts, a smile lifting her lips.

You shake your head, reaching for the notes tucked in your pocket, Caroline had been your one and only friend besides David, you could count a handful of time’s when she had let you crash at her place or borrow money to tide your landlord over the next month.

It was your duty to give something back.

Caroline stops you gently, pushing the notes into your pocket before she grins gingerly

“Don’t you dare” Caroline begins, eyes darting across to the man in the booth,

“But, you can't possibly expect me not to pay you back” You begin, eyes burrowing as you try again, to hand her over a chunk of the money.

“You need it more than I do, besides you know the saying “reject the present to receive more in the future” Caroline sing songs, you shake your head laughing

“I don't think that’s quite how it goes, in fact, I'm pretty sure you made that up on the spot” You giggle, before pushing her out of the kitchen.

“You're too good for this rotten place sugar, you outta start taking things for yourself, before the world comes and swallows you whole” She replies, not sparing you a glance before navigating through the many red booths.

Her voice echoes in your mind as you clean up the murky water near the front door, watching as the brown liquid on against the laminated floor turns into a clean yellow that came with age and poor maintenance.

You serve half a dozen more customers before Caroline strolls towards you, a hidden smirk on her face with the man’s finished plates.

“What?” You reply, rolling your eyes, wiping down the counter, you always seemed to find yourself cleaning.

“Golden boy asked for you” She’s gone into a full toothy smile now, head lulling to the side as she teases you.

He asked for you? Why would he do that? Maybe he were asking for that tip back, reconciling that you weren't worth it. It wouldn’t be the first time

“Huh? What do you mean?” You cautiously answer Adi, aware of her ability to dramatise quite literally everything that happened between these walls.

“I mean, he asked why you didn’t come and give him his food. Said he was hoping that he could ask you something” She replies eyebrows wiggling playfully, knocking her hips to yours as she purred.

“I see how you play girl, just make him a regular customer why don’t you, I'm sure after the first taste he'll be coming back for more.” She laughed at you widened expression, you winced at her insinuations, you started to believe she wanted you to get laid more than you did yourself.

“Here, he left this” She replied, reaching into her pocket, and pulling out a ruffled tissue, you're expecting a message or a scribble of numbers, yet instead what meets your eye has your heart in your stomach and your fingers gripping your apron.

There written in black ink, is your husband's name, along with a number and one single word.

“I know what you did”.

Fuck.

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soft-and-bitter · 9 months

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Not for the first time, you realize just how badly you need to escape from Steve. You have to, before he decides to turn a passing comment into reality and you’ll be trapped with him forever.

The Cure & The Cause

Mafia!Steve x Captive!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Notes/warning(s): some sexual content, coercion, Steve is sweet but a little psycho, no plot just vibes. Reader’s been kidnapped by Steve and is being held captive for a bit before story begins. Part of the same universe that Failed Bargaining belongs to.

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving some feedback, thanks! ❤

When the car rolls up to the curb and a member of Steve’s unit opens the door, Sharon exits first before it’s your turn. You’ve barely stepped out of the black Range Rover before several bodyguards usher you towards the entrance of the multi-storied boutique, but the small stretch of sidewalk you cross is simply not enough for you to attempt an escape. Figures.

You’ve only ever gone shopping for a wedding dress once, when you had accompanied your best friend in search of hers. But with the costs of her traditional wedding adding up quickly, Lisa had been forced to make some concessions where her dress was concerned. Her final choice was still lovely, in the end, though admittedly it wasn’t perfect in every capacity that she’d envisioned.

As soon as you step foot into the bridal boutique, you realize right away that whatever financial concerns Lisa had during her own wedding planning, Sharon will not have. Money is, quite frankly, the least of her worries. For starters, Sharon is one of Steve’s highest-ranking, and she’s getting married to Sam, so it’s no surprise that all the stops have been pulled out. This upscale boutique is apparently one of many salons she has in mind to visit, but already it’s proving to be the most impressive.

“We have the whole place to ourselves,” Sharon mentions with uncharacteristic giddiness, just as you and the rest of the group settle into plush white sofas. You thought that that in itself spoke to Steve’s influence and wealth, but when the senior manager in her stylish black dress and six-inch heels pops open a bottle of Dom Perignon circa 1996, you’re left wondering how much of Steve’s largesse these people are truly hoping for.

Together with the champagne, the store’s personnel offer you and the others an assortment of French pastries while Sharon gets into her first dress. A collection of them has already been set aside for her based on previous consultations, but today is when she gets to try them on. You’re already reaching for your second flute when you think that for just a second, you want to imagine that this is all a normal picture, that these women you’re here with—Sharon, Nat, Wanda and Sarah—are in fact your girlfriends, rather than accomplices to your captivity. That without him present, you might just be able to subscribe to the illusion. Combined with the right amount of ridiculously expensive champagne, it’s more than possible.

This scares you more than you want to admit. Mostly because you’re stuck realizing how lonely you’ve been up to this point, even before Steve decided to take you, but also how your perception of your captivity is beginning to morph into something less depraved, a jagged picture where the edges are becoming dulled.

You swallow down another bit of champagne in response, and then a little bit more; the next thing you know, time is flying by and your reaction at every dress Sharon steps out in gets more expressive, louder. Somewhere along the way you even end up in Nat’s lap, arms flung over her shoulder, the both of you choking on laughter at a snide comment Sharon’s made about the gown that Wanda—yes, her—has chosen to try on. It’s the very portrait of idealized friendship, of closeness and devotion and support. Of course you want to believe all this, even if only for a minute.

“It looks like you ladies have gone through most of the champagne I sent,” says a low, timbrous voice that slices through the racket of laughter and loud talk.

You, together with everyone else, process Steve’s sudden presence in the salon at the same moment, only your reaction is nowhere near as positive. Amongst the wild cheers and drunken shrieks that the other women let out, you merely stare at him with your mouth agape, blinking at the sight of him in the doorway, Bucky lingering not so far behind. Rather than disappointment, your brain can only process how fucking handsome this man is, how the top of his head nearly grazes the lintel as he enters, every step full of confidence. You’re completely out of his league, your brain foggily reminds you, though you know that—just like you know what’s beneath the gray suit he’s wearing, the one tailored to perfection.

More treacherous thoughts, you realize, just like most of them today.

“It feels like I’ve stepped into a party,” Steve says, rounding a sofa to enter the fray. His blue eyes cut to you, take in your place on Nat’s lap and the way you’re holding on to her, but he says nothing.

“That’s because it is a party,” Sharon insists, a little too loudly, the tendrils of her hair dancing along the sides of her face. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“We were driving through the district and I thought I’d drop in,” he says, still hovering over them. Bucky’s leaning against the doorway with his arms folded across his body and a look of mild amusement on his face, but he doesn’t attempt to intrude any further.

With his hands poised on his hips, Steve looks over at Wanda standing before the wall-to-wall mirrors. “Last time I checked, you’re not getting married. What’s happening here?”

“Nobody says you have to be a bride to try on a pretty dress,” Nat explains beneath you, one arm still loosely wrapped around your waist. “Sharon needed a breather, actually, so we’ve decided to take turns modeling now. Right, babe?”

She knocks a shoulder against one of yours.

When Steve swivels his head to look down at the both of you, there’s a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. “In that case, it’s your turn,” he commands, eyes fixed squarely on you. “Now that I think about it, I'm curious to know how you’d look in a wedding dress. And you want to please me, don’t you?”

You blink at him, letting his words wash over you. You remain sitting on Nat’s lap, even though you’re still not sure how you ended up there in the first place, and you can’t quite believe that Steve’s here too, but reality is starting to sink back in, your little fantasy cracking at the edges. These women around you aren’t your friends, and this isn’t some typical shopping excursion at a designer bridal house.

When you respond, you’re only vaguely aware how much the champagne you’ve been knocking back has emboldened you. His champagne, no less.

“Forget it,” you say, shaking your head. “I don’t want to.”

You think you may be imagining it, but the room suddenly feels quieter. Steve, though, is still looking down at you, his face still set in a calm expression.

“Find a dress, sweetheart, or I’ll choose one and get you into it myself.” He sinks into the plush sofa adjacent to yours, the sole occupant. “Knowing your tastes, you won’t like what I have in mind for you.”

You know that Steve’s not messing around, because he’s made good on a similar threat before. Worst of all, none of the women around you dissent on your behalf, not even Nat, sitting so close to you. You should feel betrayed by their silence, but it’s partly your fault you helped craft the illusion you so badly wanted to believe in.

“Come on beautiful, let’s go find you something,” Nat says gently, nudging you to stand. Maybe it’s the hurt you’re feeling, but this time around you don’t object as you follow a sales consultant, Nat trailing close behind. You pass by Bucky as you leave the private room; he throws you a look akin to mild sympathy before he joins the rest.

“My god, look at you,” he breathes, slowly rising from the plush white sofa. “My sweet, sweet girl, all dressed up to get married.”

You’d chosen a dress that made you think of a suit of armor. But by the way Steve studies you, his gaze sharp enough to pierce through any material, you just feel vulnerable. Exposed. Ironic, because your first and final choice felt the most conservative compared to all the dresses that Sharon and the others had come out in. Nat had coaxed you into wearing a veil, too, completing the whole look.

The champagne keeps your fiery spirit afloat, your tongue looser than normal. “I'm never getting married,” you say.

Steve lifts an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Never?"

"Never," you parrot.

“Well that's too bad, 'cause that won't be a decision you get to make. Now come here.”

You think about ignoring him for a second, just turn right back where you’d shuffled from as your own quiet brand of fuck you. But there’s a look of expectancy on his face, and at his full height, Steve isn’t one to spar with.

His hands are already on your waist when you turn to the expanse of mirrors. You weren’t wrong when you deemed this dress less eye-catching than the others, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less lovely.

“What do you think?” he asks. You can feel his fingers playing with the veil that waterfalls behind you, the way his knuckles ghost along your back.

“It's . . . fine, I guess,” you say, staring at yourself in the mirror.

“Oh, I think it’s more than fine,” he insists. “Stunning, in fact. Should I buy it?”

He doesn’t mean it, you convince yourself, but it’s not enough to clamp down on the panic rising within you. Didn’t he just hear what you’d said a second earlier?

Until now, Steve has never mentioned marriage or anything of the like. But since when did you know how his mind worked? You wouldn’t be here if you did.

“Well?”

You shake your head. “Don’t. I can’t wear white to another bride’s wedding,”

Steve chuckles as he gently draws back the veil and your hair away, sweeping both over your left shoulder. “In that case, you can wear it at home, just for me. And you’ll make sure not to wear anything underneath, won’t you?”

Goosebumps dance along your skin. His hands on your waist have you trapped in place, body pressed against his. To your alarm, you feel him hardening against your back, a threat and a promise.

" I liked it more when it was on the rack," you say hastily, trying to ignore his growing desire, "now that I'm in it, I'm having second thoughts."

In the mirror, you can see Steve shaking his head. "No, you're absolutely radiant in this. It's perfect . . . and it's just so you."

He acts without warning. You inhale sharply as his tongue trails up your neck, slow and hot. Steve was licking you—licking you—in front of everyone, without an ounce of shame. It reminds you all too well of the other night, when he had spread you out across his desk and eaten you out while he'd taken a call on speaker. He'd taken his damned time too, keeping you on the very precipice while the caller spewed all this babel your mind couldn't comprehend, all thanks to the desperate state you were in. And when he finally let you come, it had been with his hand shoved against your mouth.

Not for the first time, you realize just how badly you need to escape from Steve. You have to, before he decides to turn a passing comment into reality and you’ll be trapped with him forever.

Yeah I have no idea what this is lol; it was such a basic and simple premise that really didn’t need to be 2k plus words long, but here we are I guess. Graphics by me.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #mafia!steve rogers x reader #mafia!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #steve rogers au

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thezombieprostitute · 20 days

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Hummingbird's wedding dress?

#hummingbird series #mafia!steve rogers x reader #garbage men au

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scrumptious-delusion · 1 year

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Hi Hannah!💕 How about "Beyond the Light We See" with Steve Rogers, please?

BEYOND THE LIGHT WE SEE

fake fic title drabbles

summary: after the curtains are drawn and the lights are out, how well do any of us know our neighbours?

pairing: mafia enforcer!steve rogers x artist!female reader

warnings: swearing, violence, murder, mention of: blood, knives, and alcohol.

a/n: i don't know where this came from.

excerpt:

The windows of your twenty-second floor apartment don’t offer stunning views of the bustling city around you. Instead they tease a glimpse into the lives of those who reside in the apartment building opposite yours.

However, the disappointing reality was that all of the apartments within your view - except one, hardly ever opened their curtains or blinds, remaining completely anonymous.

Though as luck would have it, the one apartment exempt from that truth happened to be perfectly level with your own, and with no one else to observe, it didn’t take long for you to become accustomed to the man who occupied it.

A few years older than you, he always leaves for work while you’re still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and he doesn’t return until late, when you’re already dressed in pyjamas.

He rarely watches television but his record player never seems to turn off, forever spinning one of his many vinyls. He exercises shirtless, cooks for himself, and nearly every night he sits in the armchair that faces his floor-to-ceiling windows and sips his choice of alcohol from a lowball glass.

You first bore witness to this particular routine of his about a week after you moved in.

Sitting on the floor of your living room, right beside your own floor-to-ceiling windows, you had been arranging dried flowers when you glanced out the window and locked eyes.

Cool and collected, the man had slightly nodded his head while raising his glass up at you before taking a sip.

Smiling bashfully in return, you had quickly averted your gaze back to your art project.

The night continued on with you sneaking peeks at the man while he openly watched you - or so it seemed.

Once you had casted your flower arrangement in resin some hours later, you called it a night, leaving him a dark apartment to stare into.

He never altered his routine in the nights that followed, despite your well-lit apartment almost always glaring back at him as you crafted.

Three nights after that brief interaction, when your resin had finally finished setting, you hesitated for only a moment before holding it up under the bright light of your floor lamp, displaying your latest art piece for the man.

It was much better up close of course, but still nice at a distance.

The man had smirked before mouthing one word - “Pretty”.

You’ll never forget how much the compliment warmed you.

After that, your nights naturally fell into rhythm with his. He drank, you created. He watched, you didn’t mind.

But then there were Friday nights. A deviation from his routine.

On Friday nights he draws thick curtains over his windows, sending you a wink if he catches your curious stare, making your skin flush.

You know it’s silly to be so intrigued by his display of privacy. If anything, you should be wondering why those curtains don’t close more often, especially after all these months.

I guess we all have our secrets.

Stretching up, you spare a glance out the living room window and find nothing but a sea of curtains and blinds.

The clock has struck one minute past midnight, taking you into Saturday morning, and your aching lower back agrees that it’s time for bed.

Rising from the floor, you walk around your apartment and turn off all the lights until there’s only a soft glow coming from your bedroom.

You’re crossing your living room when light suddenly spills in.

Turning to the source, you look back out your windows to see a curtain at his apartment has been pulled open.

Intrigued, you take a step closer just as a male you don’t recognise slams against the window in the man’s apartment, pounding on the glass.

Fear trickles down your spine as you watch the stranger yell words you can’t hear before a hand appears on top of his head.

The hand closes around his hair and shoves his head into the window before tilting it back, exposing the stranger’s throat to the glinting knife that slices it.

Your mouth falls open, eyes watering in terror as blood splatters over the glass.

The stranger crumbles to the floor, dead.

When you manage to tear your gaze away from the lifeless body, it lands on him.

You don’t think, you just run.

Slamming your bedroom door shut, you flick off the light - as if the darkness can hide you from what you’ve witnessed, and back yourself into the furthest corner of the room.

It’s not until your knees give out and send you to the ground that you realise you’re trembling.

He just… killed that man.

He killed him.

Maybe an hour or a minute passes, but eventually the shock subsides enough for you to form one clear thought.

I need to call the police.

You’re about to pull yourself up when you hear the unmistakable sound of your apartment door closing.

Your locked apartment door.

No, no, no, no, no -

Scampering across the floor, you crawl underneath your bed.

Where’s my phone?

Your stomach gives a sickening twist as you remember leaving it on the kitchen bench.

Heavy footsteps echo throughout your quiet apartment, gradually growing louder as the intruder gets closer and closer to your room.

Covering your mouth with both hands, you plead with any higher power listening.

You can hear the handle being turned before the bedroom door clicks open and the light is flicked on.

“Angel.” A deep, rough voice calls out softly. “Don’t be scared.”

The smirk is evident in the man’s voice and it turns your blood cold.

It’s just a bad dream. This is all a bad dream.

Black leather shoes come to a stop inches from your face.

Sliding yourself as far back as you can, you watch as two pant covered knees appear next, followed by two large tattooed hands marked with blood.

Finally, his head lowers until two dark eyes meet yours.

“Are you going to come out, angel?” The man asks slowly, “Or am I gonna have to come and get you?”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers drabble #enforcer!steve rogers x reader #mafia!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #drabbles

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sgrdoll · 2 years

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Tranquility - Prologue

Synopsys - Innocent looking girl not so innocent. Mafia!Steve Rogers finds good use for her and her special talents.

Warnings - abuse, murder, knives, mentions of drugs, spitting, biting, character death

Charlie’s first memory in this world was at age five. She was tiny, especially then, and the bigger girls on the playground made fun of her because of the street she lived on.

“God, Kane Street is such a shithole,” the sixth graders would taunt her.

It was true too. It was a shithole. There was garbage littered everywhere and addicts randomly lying on the street corners. It still killed Charlie to hear them say that though, her mother worked so hard on their home only for the very place it sat to be demeaned. Images of her mom cleaning the house tirelessly to the tune of 60’s music filled her little kindergarten brain.

That was Charlie’s first act of violence. She looked up at all of those big girls and she spit right in their faces, just as she had saw her father do to her mother. All of the girls jumped back in disgust, and when they did Charlie jumped at the opportunity to bite down on one of the wrists that dangled in front of her. Charlie bit as hard as she possibly could until she felt the sweet taste of blood. The girl whose wrist occupied her mouth shrieked loudly and ripped her arm out of Charlie’s vice grip.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She screamed at Charlie.

Charlie stayed silent, she didn’t intend to talk to any of those girls. They didn’t deserve it, silence was another one of those tricks her father taught her. She just gave them a sweet smile and turned to go play on the monkey bars with her long blonde pigtails swinging behind her.

After that, Charlie’s acts of violence increased to a level beyond the control of the people around her. She would slap and bite and scream. She never seemed to punch, but things came to a crescendo when she learned to use knives.

Her father was the first person she ever killed. She was 19 years old. Her mother was already long gone, leaving her with her abusive father. Charlie stabbed him. She didn’t even feel bad, he deserved it after all. He hurt her, and her mother. Charlie knew what she did wasn’t exactly morally sound, but he thrill of it all kept her safe from any remorse that might creep into her chest.

That’s how Steve found her. Charlie’s asshole dad owed him money for drugs that he stole from one of Steve’s clubs. Steve had already had several run-ins with the man that was currently dead in the floor. Frankly, it was a relief that Steve didn’t have to do any of the dirty work. His eyes moved over to the tiny girl on the floor across from the dead man. She was sat with her legs out in front of her and blood all over the oversized blue shirt she wore. A kitchen knife was in her hands. She looked up at Steve with big blue eyes and tilted her head, “Who are you?”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #mean reader #mafia #mafia!steve x reader #mafia!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers x reader #size kink #mafia au #cacw #bucky barnes #bucky #found family #prologue

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myfictionaldreams · 6 months

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Day 16: DP in 1 hole - Mafia!Stucky

Summary: You were adamant about proving Steve wrong and doing something you’ve never done before.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome (f/m/m), double penetration in one hole, size kink, dom/sub, sir kink, masturbation, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, overstimulated, teasing, kinda mean!steve, discussion of safe words, praise kink, creampie

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“Just…Just do it; I can’t take it, I promise. Please, sir!” Each word you sobbed seemed to stumble into the next as you begged so quickly, wiping your tear-stained face on the muscled shoulder. The man beneath ran his fingers over your scalp to try and calm you, ignoring the fact that his cock was still pressed so deep inside of your cunt that he was knocking into your cervix with each breath, let alone thrust. Bucky was holding you tightly from where you lay draped over his muscular body, both of your chests rubbing against one another, and from this position, it meant that the Brunette gang member could look over your shoulder to the other man on the bed.

“Oh baby girl, you sound so pretty when you’re begging like that”, Steve mocked with an air of arrogance, loving that your reactions were becoming more pathetic. One of his big hands was wrapped around his cock, pleasuring himself as he squeezed your arse cheek with the other. He had the perfect view from where he knelt in the centre of the bed, with Bucky and you led out in front of him; even though your back was facing him, he could see where your face was turned to the side, see the tear tracks down your cheek.

He couldn’t blame you for having this reaction; this had been going on for hours, and you’d been so good for him, but sometimes he and Bucky wanted to play, push you to your limits. In doing so, you became increasingly more pathetic and submissive, whimpering and needy for more until either Steve or Bucky enough was enough.

“You’ve done so well for us, Doll”, Bucky praised with a smirk as he kissed the back of your head, which, in turn, earned an eye roll from Steve as he knew his best friend was just trying to give you all the compliments so you’d cling to him more. “How many times has she orgasmed for us now, Stevie? 5? 6?”

Steve couldn’t help himself as he spanked your arse cheek, watching the jiggle of the muscle and the way you initially cried and jolted at the action but then moaned and perked your arse up to receive another one. Bucky also groaned at the impact as your walls had clamped down around his cock so tight that he almost came. Steve chuckled under his breath at the glare from Bucky, who had been trying to edge himself for the last half an hour and knowing what Steve was like, he wanted to see just how good his will strength was.

“She’s came so many times that she’s made a mess over the bed, haven’t you, Baby? And yet, you still want more? I don’t think you can handle any more, especially both of us”. Steve licked his bottom lip as he eyed your pretty hole, even wondering himself if this was even possible; yes, he’d seen it on porn, but two cocks in one hole? “We’re so big anyway, Honey; there’s no way you’ll be able to take both me and Bucky.” Steve taunts and earns even more of a desperate cry, more tears streaking down your cheeks.

“Pl-Please, Sir! Just try; I can take you both; I know I can”. To try and prove some kind of a point that you were not done with the fucking, you pushed yourself up slightly on Bucky’s chest and began to ride his cock. However, you were exhausted, and your cunt was puffy and sensitive, so it was more of a gentle roll than a harsh ride.

“That’s it, feel so good on top of me, Sweetheart”, Bucky groans, both hands on your hips to try and guide you slightly, completely forgetting about the double penetration idea for the moment all thoughts turned to the steadily moving wet warmth that moved around his shaft.

Steve’s arm wrapped around your chest from behind so that his hand secured around your jaw, pulling you flush against him; his mouth dipped to the shell of your ear, teasing with his teeth and causing a gasp to escape your lips. “If it hurts, what are you going to do?” he asks, his voice full of authority that was usually just saved for when he was at work.

“I’ll say my safe word”, you immediately answer, clarity clearing in your mind as your movements slowed, knowing that this discussion was necessary.

“Good girl. Now if my cock doesn’t fit next to Bucky’s, you’ll continue to be good, aren’t you, and not complain. We’ll just continue playing like we have been, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir, I understand”, you say without any sort of whimper or stutter noted as your eyes finally blinked open. Bucky smiled warmly up at you, which caused your hole to clench at just how handsome he was, but before he could react, Steve was releasing his hold on your face and pressing against your shoulders until you were lying flat against Bucky again.

You stopped rolling your hips and waited patiently for the next steps, which were Steve’s fingers. He didn’t need to use lube just yet as the blonde leader gathered some of your fluid from where you and Bucky were connected onto his index and middle finger. Ever so gently, he ran his fingers around the rim of your hole, near your perineum, as this was the area presented to him and where he was hoping to slip his cock into eventually.

With Bucky still inside, Steve ended up teasing him and stroking the two of you. Adding extra pressure, Steve slipped his fingers into your hole, following Bucky’s length until he reached the first knuckle. You were snug around his fingers as he managed to push in a couple of centimetres further until nearly to the second knuckle.

Steve pressed his hand on your lower back as he observed you taking a deep breath to keep all the muscles between your legs relaxed, which made it easier for the man to continue to stretch you.

“That’s amazing, Baby, you’re taking my fingers so well. Look at that! Taking two of my fingers and Bucky’s cock, aren’t you our special girl”. Steve’s praises helped to keep you relaxed as you smiled and warmed at the words he was saying like he was stroking the happy part of your mind.

Bucky bit his lip at the sensation, which was difficult to explain. As Steve stretched your hole, it made everything feel tighter, and just as he pushed deeper, he also had the stimulation of Steve touching the sensitive part of the underside of his cock.

“Just going to stretch you a little bit first, then I’ll add another finger”, Steve explained as his eyes trained between your face and pussy. He moved both of his fingers in semi-circles, trying to see how far your walls were willing to stretch.

Holding back a groan, he could feel how much you were trying not to clench and knew if they did succeed with this, he would lose his mind. He just hoped he didn’t cum as soon as he penetrated, which was a similar thought that Bucky had.

Scissoring his fingers around Bucky’s cock, Steve shifted closer so that a third finger could be added alongside the other two. You desperately moaned in Bucky’s chest, fingers digging into his shoulders, leaving nail crevices in his one fleshed shoulder.

Steve remained still for a few seconds, allowing you to adjust before moving in and out slowly. “Fuck Steve!” It wasn’t you who moaned but Bucky who had closed his eyes to try and concentrate on not cuming before the action had even begun. It felt so good to have his cock inside your puffy tight hole, but then to have fingers as well stroking along his shaft was unlike anything he’d experienced before.

Looking over your shoulder, you took a deep breath and tried to sound as confident as possible, the tears having now stopped as you remained calm. “Please, Steve, I can take it, just try”.

Steve ignored your pleas to hurry up and continued to stretch your pussy, twisting and spreading his fingers to give his cock extra space. Even though he was three fingers deep, he and Bucky were not exactly small in the cock division. This was why this fucking session had been going on for so long because they spent so much precious time making sure you were adequately stretched to take one of their cocks, let alone two at the same time.

There had been plenty of times where one of them had been fucking your cunt and the other in your arse but nothing to the extent of two cocks in one hole.

You sighed as Steve finally pulled his fingers out and reached for the lube, coating his cock thoroughly before wiping a generous blob onto your pussy. Moving his entire body closer, Steve began to prepare for the insertion.

“Remember: Safeword”, Steve said loudly enough that you glanced over your shoulder and nodded. “Take a deep breath for me, Baby”.

You did as instructed, filling your lungs to the brim with oxygen before slowly breathing out of your mouth, which is when you felt considerable pressure between your legs.

As Steve was so thoroughly lubed, his cock nearly slid in the wrong direction, so he had to push the tip of his cock hard against Bucky’s shaft and then knock his hips with a deep thrust. At first, he wasn’t sure he would get it into your pussy with how much resistance he was met with, but then it nudged beneath the rim and was welcomed into the dangerously tight warmth of your cunt.

You had expected it to hurt in some way, but to your happy surprise, all it initially felt like was the deep burn that came with stretching your cunt for a cock, just with increased intensity. It was an odd sensation to experience, like you were going to break at the first stretch, but as your body relaxed and more of his cock pushed in, everything was just thigh highest level of pleasure imaginable.

The screaming moan you released echoed around the bedroom as Steve’s cock penetrated until he, too, was caressing your cervix with the mushroom tip of his dick.

Bucky's hands were massaging over your arse, hips and back as he tried to keep himself under control. Having Steve’s cock moving against his but pressing hard with the limited room, the difference in textures between your gummy walls and the solidness of the shaft. The tightness was another experience, almost like a pretty vice trapping his cock to perfection.

“Holy shit, Baby! That’s it; stay nice and relaxed for us. I'm just going to let you get adjusted for a moment.” Seeing his and Bucky’s lengths fitting into one hole, Steve was mesmerised. He even contemplated reaching for his phone and taking a picture to show you the wondrous thing your body could achieve.

With your cunt stretched so far, Steve and Bucky were adamant that they could feel your pulse fluttering through your walls. Not only this, but you’d squirted over Bucky from just the stretch.

You knew that you were too squished between them both to take over right now and ride their cocks and also the exercise that your body was going through; you weren’t sure you even had the energy to push off of Bucky’s chest to find a good position.

Thankfully, Steve was more than prepared to fuck for the three of you. His two meaty hands joined Bucky’s over your hips as he ever so carefully began to rock his hips in the smallest of motions so that only an inch of his cock was moving in and out of your cunt.

As more of his length edged out before being pushed in, your entire body seemed to just give up with the tension running through it with the anticipation of the double penetration. Your limbs went slack, as well as your jaw, as your mouth opened in a perfect circle to allow the animalistic grunts and moans just to seep out.

“You sound so good when you moan like that”, Bucky gasped as he tried to fuck up with Steve, causing your body to jolt with the movements.

Soon, they were both fucking your pussy, Bucky, at a slow pace that allowed his cock to brush over all of the hyper-sensitive nerves of your g-spot and with the pressure of Steve’s cock pushing on him, you could feel every since ridge of Bucky. Steve, on the other hand, was able to fuck you with a bit more intensity, sweat beginning to drip down his temple, but he couldn’t give a shit about that right now, not when his girl was taking him so well.

“I’m so proud of you, taking both of us so well; you feel so fucking good”. Steve’s voice sounded almost as desperate as your begging did earlier as his eyebrows knitted together with the pleasure taking over his body.

Bucky was watching Steve, feeling his length fucking against his, the tightness of your pussy, the moans you were all sharing; he knew his orgasm was impending. Steve could see this from how Bucky’s hands slackened, and the grunts stopped as he tried to concentrate on not orgasming.

To be truthful, Steve was also near his orgasm, and you’d been in a constant state of cumming since both cocks had slipped inside, the coil in your abdomen tight and fluttering with involuntary contractions around their cocks. Releasing the hold on your hip, Steve reached over to grab Bucky's jaw, forcing him to look up at his boyfriend and boss.

“Cum for me, Bucky, I know you want to. Let’s fill our girl up together, yeah? Make her drip with our cum, that’s it, fucking cum for me, Bucky”.

Steve tightened his hold on Bucky’s face and slammed into you with an increased pace that your eyes rolled back just in time for Bucky to cum, hard.

“Fuck! Holy-Shit-” Bucky cried out, his body withering beneath you like he wanted to arch his back but couldn’t be with you on top. You could feel the wetness and warmth of his seed as he spilt deep inside you.

“Good boy, look so pretty when you cum. Don’t you think so, Baby?” Steve asked you, but you weren’t paying attention, not when you were deeply lost in pleasure. Steve’s pace increased further as he fucked his way to orgasm a few seconds later. More cum filled your pussy, mixing with Bucky’s as it began to drip out of you. Steve’s head tilted back as he thrust through the orgasm until the shivers ceased, and he could take a minute to catch his breath.

Sitting back on his heels, Steve’s cock slipped out of your cunt first, swiftly followed by Bucky’s, meaning the blonde had the perfect view of your pulsing, gaping hole as it leaked with their seed, dripping out onto the sheets below.

Despite being half asleep due to exhaustion, you managed to whisper, “See, I told you I could do it”.

#mafia!stucky #mafia au #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #stucky x reader #stucky smut #marvel smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #mine*

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veltana · 6 months

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

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

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Masterlist | AO3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You sound so fucking pretty."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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holylulusworld · 7 months

Text

Indecent Proposal masterlist

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of illegal activities/mafia business/murder, violence, blood, strong reader, arranged relationship, wish for children, shady deals, shitty boyfriend, possible smut in future chapters (including mlm), polyamory, pansexuality, more to be added

A/N: I don't have enough ongoing series. So...suffer with me...

Indecent Proposal (1)

Indecent Proposal (2)

Indecent Proposal (3)

Indecent Proposal (4)

Indecent Proposal (5)

Indecent Proposal (6)

Indecent Proposal (7)

Indecent Proposal (8)💦

Indecent Proposal (8.2) 💦

Indecent Proposal (9) 💦

Indecent Proposal (9.2)

Indecent Proposal (10) 💦

Indecent Proposal (11) 💦

Indecent Proposal (12)

Indecent Proposal (12.2)

Indecent Proposal (13)

Indecent Proposal (14)

Indecent Proposal (15)

Indecent Proposal (15.2)

Indecent Proposal (16)

Indecent Proposal (17)

Indecent Proposal (18)

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #scott lang #mafia au #mobster!steve rogers #mobster!bucky barnes #smut #Indecent Proposal masterlist #stucky x reader #stucky x you

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biteofcherry · 1 year

Note

Does mafia Steve from Nesting like his wife's pregnant belly?

Like? Steve loves it! He's obsessed with it. He puts his hand on her belly whenever he can 😊

Nesting

mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings for the part below: pregnancy; breeding kink; pregnant belly appreciation; fluff; a bit of smut; soft!dark Steve Rogers; mafia!Steve Rogers;

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"Magnifica." Steve murmurs in awe, his warm breath brushing your cheek as he leans his chin on your shoulder to watch his hand roam over your pregnant belly.

You're sprawled in bed, Steve leaning against the headboard and you sitting between his legs, your back resting against his chest. You've been watching a baking show on the ridiculously huge tv screen while Steve fed you bites of fruit and some chocolates.

That's until his focus switched to your belly.

He traces both hands over the flimsy fabric of the pink babydoll you're wearing, resting his palms over the swell of you, chasing little flutters beneath your skin.

He doesn't do it only in bed, though it's mostly where he gets enough time to fully immerse in his fascination with your pregnant body. But Steve touches you whenever he can - keeping an arm around you and a hand spread possessively over your big belly when you're out; lifting your shirt up and peppering your belly with kisses when you're lounging at home. Any given opportunity, really.

Occasionally his focus would switch to your tits, which filled out more and become the core of your latest torment - they're ridiculously sensitive, getting you shaking in arousal with a mere touch.

"You should always look like that." Steve states, his big palm spread over the center of your belly.

"Like a huge whale?" You snort, trying to focus on the cakes that are being currently made on the tv and not on the way Steve's touch makes your sensitive skin tingle.

"Whales can't compare." Steve chuckles, sliding one of his hands a little upwards. "They're not as hot and glowing as you."

He cups your breast - your nipple instantly stiffening under his touch - and you let out a tiny gasp.

"It's only sweat and anti-stretch marks oil." You huff; lately you were becoming more self-conscious and self-depreciating.

"The oil maybe makes your skin softer," Steve pulls down the strap of your nightie and squeezes your exposed breast. Jolt of arousal zaps straight to your clit. "But it's the pregnancy that makes you so sensitive and extra responsive."

"It's my seed growing in your belly that causes it." His voice drops into that low, deep timbre which makes your pussy pulse in anticipation.

Steve starts pulling the fabric of your babydoll upwards, his hand quickly sneaks beneath it to relish in the skin-on-skin contact.

"You are amazing." Steve turns his head to kiss your cheek. "Your body is amazing. It's creating life."

He starts mouthing kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.

"And it takes me so well..." he growls, scraping his teeth over your shoulder.

Suddenly, in a swift yet gentle move, Steve pushes you forward.

He has you on your hands and knees before you manage to utter a single syllable of protest.

Steve nudges your thighs wider apart. You comply instantly, your body already buzzing with need. You kind of hate how quickly you rouse nowadays. Not like Steve had much trouble making you drip in rapid time without your pregnancy hormones raging.

"Already so wet for me." Steve hums, pleased, as his fingers slide between your folds.

"Or maybe, my little wife..." he guides the leaking tip of his cock to your entrance - "You're always ready for me?"

He doesn't wait for an answer. He clasps one hand on your shoulder to keep you in place and rests the other hand on your belly as he pushes into your cunt in one, firm stroke.

"Gonna keep you like this for a long time, little bird." He groans in delight as your walls flutter around him. "For as long as your body can take it."

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #mafia!steve rogers #mob boss!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers x reader #soft!dark steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagine #nesting #my writing

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talesofadragon · 10 months

Text

𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬

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

Pairing: Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Mature scenes. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 2.8K

Chapter 1 - Flat White | Varicolored Schemes Masterlist

𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐖 York’s gateway to damnation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m telling you now.”

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

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

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

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

“Yel—”

“Luigi’s Pizza.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can put it on.”

“What?”

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

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

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

“Fifteen minutes away,” she replied.

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

“New Yorker?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

: ̗̀➛ Read Chapter 2 | Morally Gray

Series Taglist: @crazyunsexycool

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

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x female reader #captain america x reader #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel mcu #avengers #steve rogers x y/n #mafia steve rogers #mob steve rogers #mob!steve rogers x reader #mafia!steve rogers x reader

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neonovember · 1 year

Text

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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bucksangel · 21 days

Text

you taste like suburbia

pairing: mafia!stucky x reader (poly), john walker x reader but not for long

word count: 6.4k

summary: your lousy boyfriend John Walker owes quite a bit of money to some pretty shady people. And since he doesn’t have the means to pay, he’s brought you along to a negotiation to meet them - and hopefully entice them into accepting a different form of payment.

warnings: 18+, smut, dub-con kind of, a tiny bit of stalking/dark behavior (it’s only hinted at), voyeurism i guess?, vaginal fingering, oral (f & m receiving), threesome, poly relationship, petnames (princess, kitten, beautiful), daddy kink, sir kink, unprotected p in v, a little bit of misogyny (not from stucky), not john walker friendly, mentioned verbal abuse, mention of murder (you have to squint and turn your head 90 degrees)

a/n: this is based off this post and @crazyunsexycool ‘s very amazing comments (title is from ‘suburbia’ by devon again)

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“It’s simple, really.” The men across from you have been staring you down this whole time, eyes barely leaving your body and that’s only to occasionally glance at the man sitting next to you. And though they’re looking at you, you know their words aren’t directed your way. No. It’s for John.

John Walker; your shitty boyfriend who, apparently, has got himself into a lot of trouble with some pretty shady people. You don’t know much, you just know that he has a debt to pay and he doesn’t have the funds.

And you’re not stupid, you know how this will go. Your relationship with John started good, great in fact, but then he fell back into his old gambling ways a few months in. You wanted to leave, to kick him to the curb the moment he asked you for money to cover some bills. But you were too kind-hearted for your own good and felt the need to help him just because you loved him. But the deeper into trouble he’s gotten the less he’s actually cared about you, too focused on getting his debts paid off so he doesn’t get a bullet in his head.

Thus, you’re here. Forced to wear that dark red, wrap-around dress that shows just enough to be desired in the hopes that will entice the men across from you into accepting a different form of payment. Fifteen minutes into the ‘meeting’ you can already tell that they’re going to accept. And you don’t really know what to do in this situation, you know you don’t really have a say in how this plays out, but some part of you doesn’t really mind. Part of you is glad you’ll finally be free from John’s bullshit.

It just helps that the men your boyfriend owes money to are extremely attractive. Both men don dark black suits, white button-ups, and sleek black ties. And the brunette - Bucky, maybe? - smirks when he catches your eye after having been staring at his hand grasping a cigarette for a few moments before glancing up at his face. With a wink, he turns his head towards his partner - Steve, if you remember correctly.

“You owe us quite a bit of money, but you already knew that. We also know that you don’t have the means to pay us.”

From beside you, you can feel John shaking in his seat. With just a glance in his direction, you can see the beads of sweat forming around his hairline at Steve’s commanding tone.

“We’re assuming that’s why you brought her, isn’t it?” With that question, both men look back at you, the hunger in their eyes is prominent. And part of you wants to cower in your chair, to wrap your arms around your body and hide from their intense gazes. But a bigger part of you likes it, craves being desired. Lord knows John hasn’t looked at you like that in a long while.

“Um,” John stops himself, seems to not know what exactly to say. But then Bucky raises one of his eyebrows and John is quick to continue. “Y-Yes, sirs.”

Steve hums, bringing up his glass to take a long sip of his liquor of choice. Bucky takes a short drag of his cigarette before speaking up.

“And if we don’t accept the arrangement?”

John starts really vibrating out of his seat now, both of his legs bouncing furiously. One of his hands rubs over the back of his other, and he gulps loudly.

“I-I don’t… Please. I don’t have the money right now. And, she’s good in bed. She’ll listen to whatever you say, so she’ll please you guys whenever you need, she can even cook and clean so she can be a maid for you too.”

His words make you want to vomit, talking about you like you’re nothing more than a whore, a piece of meat to be passed around and commanded. Your eyes narrow, glaring over at your asshole boyfriend as you begin to pick at your fingernails with a mixture of anxiety and anger.

Steve surprises you by slamming his glass down onto the dark oak desk in front of him, some of the liquid inside spilling out.

“And what makes you think you can talk about a woman like that?” His voice is booming, and the tension in the air is palpable. It’s hard to hide the smile that wants to spread across your face, but you manage to not show your smugness when John sits up straight and begins sputtering out an apology.

“Enough,” Bucky says, taking another long drag and then putting out the cigarette. As he exhales out the smoke, he makes sure to blow it in your boyfriend’s direction, and you have to look down at your lap to prevent the men from seeing your smirk at the show of dominance.

With a glance at his partner, they seem to have a silent conversation before Steve nods, looking back at John while Bucky looks at you.

“We’ll accept. If nothing else then to get her away from you.”

Even with the passive-aggressive comment, you can see the way John’s body visibly relaxes, and can hear the sigh of relief that passes through his lips.

You on the other hand don’t quite know what to do. Yeah, you’re glad you’ve found a way out of this toxic relationship, but you’re also very aware that this major adjustment in your life was made without your consent or input. This thought immediately makes all the satisfaction drain from your body, and you keep your gaze averted so the men across from you can’t see the underlying fear growing in your eyes.

Because you don’t know these men. You’ve never even heard of them until now. All you know is that anyone connected to the dark underworld that is the mafia couldn’t possibly be a good person. For a moment, you’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t realize all of the men are staring at you.

“Wh-What?” Your throat is a little dry due to not having spoken in a while, and you try your hardest not to let your voice waver.

“Are you okay with this?” Steve asks with an uncharacteristically soft smile and calm voice. He’s asking you how you feel about this? Why? Shouldn’t this be the end, the part where your boyfriend leaves and you uproot your life to live as payment for his debts?

Apparently not.

“Why are you asking me?” Confusion is laden in your tone, your eyebrows furrowing and your fingers picking at your nails even harsher.

“Because, beautiful,” Bucky starts, waving to a red-headed woman who suddenly appears with water for you. “We don’t want you thinking this is purely transactional. You’re not property, you’re a grown woman and you deserve to have a say in your life. If you don’t want to come with us, that’s okay. We’ll extend our contract with your dear boyfriend.”

Steve speaks up next.

“But if you do want to come with us, we’ll show you how real men treat ladies.” His eyes grow hungry for half a second, then return to that unnerving adoring gaze.

Everything grows silent for a moment, everyone awaiting your answer. As you look over at John, his face is contorted in fear of what they’ll do if you deny them, and anger - silently demanding that you say yes. And, looking over at him, you finally realize he’s never been who you thought he was. Even when he was being an asshole, when he would steal from you, when he would yell and scream and verbally abuse you because he lost even more money, you were so blinded by trying to help him that you couldn’t accept that you were being used.

Now, you know. You know that even if you don’t know these men, the fact that they’re even asking for your opinion says more than anything John could ever do. With one final look at him, you sigh, looking Steve in the eyes.

“I’ll go with you.”

Not only does John visibly relax, but you can see some of the tension leave Bucky and Steve’s bodies, almost like they were hoping that you would say yes.

“It’s settled then.” Steve’s smile turns into a sly smirk, and he momentarily shifts his gaze to John. “Your debt has been paid.”

John tries thanking him, tries to thank the men for sparing his life, but Bucky cuts him off by clearing his throat.

“Don’t think you’re getting away with that comment, though.”

With that, Steve nods at the redhead who comes to stand behind John. In one swift movement, she puts one hand on his shoulder and one hand grabs the inside of his elbow, and she twists. The sounds of his bones cracking are loud, but his screams are louder, his cries of pain reverberating throughout the office. And, as much as you want to feel bad for him, you can’t find it in you to do so. The last two years have been hell for you, and seeing him in pain feels a little like payback for all the pain he caused you. You simply sit there and stare as the woman grabs both of his shoulders and hauls him up, ignoring his cries while dragging him to the door.

The woman follows him out, leaving just you and the two men. For a moment, neither of you speaks, almost like you’re all waiting for the other person to say something.

“So, um. What happens now?” You look at Bucky as he stands and walks around the desk, holding his hand out and encouraging you to grab it. Once you do, you let him help you stand and move you so you’re nearly pressed against his body, a heavy, black metal hand settling on your waist as he brings your hand up to kiss your knuckles.

“Now we take you home,” Bucky says softly, staring deep into your eyes and tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.

“We’ll have our associates pick up your things,” Steve says, suddenly standing so close behind you that you can feel the heat from his body. His large hands settle on your shoulders, gently massaging your muscles and allowing any remaining tension in your body to slip away.

“And you won’t have to worry about anything for the rest of your life.” Bucky presses his body against yours further, holding your gaze for a long while before he leans down to place a delicate kiss on your cheekbone, very close to your ear. “Your only concern will be taking care of us, and letting us take care of you.”

In order to not moan you have to clear your throat, focusing all of your attention on not melting into a puddle at their feet. Steve leans down to place a kiss on your other cheek, sighing softly as though he’s been waiting for this. You hesitantly place one hand on Bucky’s arm and one on Steve’s hand, and he immediately threads your fingers together.

“Home?” Bucky asks, pulling away to look into your eyes.

“Home,” You say without a second thought, already liking the idea of being with them, being theirs.

____________

You all get back to their mansion, because of course they live in a mansion, about an hour later. It’s in a woodsy and remote area of upstate New York with no neighbors for a good two miles, and upon driving through the gates and down the long driveway your eyes go wide, everything is just so big. The fountain in the front yard stands almost as tall as the three-story house, several expensive-looking cars are parked off to the left near what you assume is the garage, and you’re pretty sure you can spot a greenhouse in the backyard.

As soon as the car is stopped two men appear on either side of it, opening the doors for Steve and Bucky and letting them step out. A woman - the same redhead from earlier - comes up to your door and opens it, reaching out her hand and guiding you out.

“I’m Natasha,” She says with a welcoming smile on her face. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“What do you mean ‘finally’?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, jumping slightly when an arm wraps around your waist.

“It’s nothing, beautiful.” When you look up at Bucky, you see him giving Natasha a look that you can tell is a silent demand to stop talking. Then, he turns to you, pulling you close to his side. “Come on, let’s get you settled in.”

Despite a spark of uneasiness popping up, you walk with him, Steve appearing by your other side and taking your hand in his and once again threading your fingers together. He gives you a warm smile, squeezing your hand. “We’ll give you a tour later, for now, we just want you to relax.”

As you walk through the entrance, your eyes open even wider than before. Not only is the foyer huge, but the chandelier that hangs from the ceiling illuminates the area beautifully and your heels make clicking noises on the pristine tile floor. You let your eyes wander as you walk up the grand staircase, admiring the artwork on the walls while you’re led through a large living area and down a hallway to a door.

And when they open it, dear lord you just want to scream. It’s bigger than the one-bedroom apartment that you shared with John. There’s a huge canopy bed off to the left, a massive TV mounted on the opposite wall, and a reading nook against the floor-to-ceiling window with a long bookshelf on the wall next to it - ending a few feet from the bed. There’s plants hanging from the ceiling and potted ones in each corner of the room, and an open door off to the right gives you a peak at what must be the bathroom but resembles more of a spa.

It’s absolutely gorgeous and it makes you feel at home.

“How do you like it?” Steve asks, both men tugging and leading you further into the room when they notice you’ve frozen while taking everything in.

“I love it,” You say quickly, smiling at them as you walk towards the bed so you can run your fingers along the silk bed sheets. “It’s beautiful.”

“Good.” Bucky appears behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin on your shoulder. “You deserve beautiful things.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, warmth filling your body. These men are already showing you more affection than John had during your entire relationship, and it simultaneously hurts your heart that you stayed with an ungrateful and uncaring man for so long while also making you happy that you’ve fallen into the laps of men with high standards of how to treat a woman.

“We’ll let you rest up, now.” Steve comes up to you and works his arm between your back and Bucky’s body so he can hold your waist. He leans down and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, bringing up his other hand to cradle your head so he can really breathe in your scent.

“Wait.”

Immediately Bucky and Steve pull away, and when you turn around and look up at them you can see the concern written on their face.

“This is my room?”

Bucky nods, his eyebrows furrowed. “Yes. Is it okay? We can redecorate if you want, just tell us what you like and we’ll do it.”

You shake your head, placing one hand on Bucky’s chest and the other on Steve’s.

“N-no. No, I love it. I just thought…” You trail off, biting your lip. You’re not too sure how to phrase your thoughts, but you try your hardest when the men continue to stare at you. “I guess I just thought you would want me to sleep in your room.”

Bucky sighs and pulls you close, placing one hand on the back of your head while Steve saddles up beside him to grasp your hip.

“While we would absolutely love having you in our bed,” Bucky stops to swipe his tongue along his bottom lip and you have to fight the urge to lean up on your toes to bite it. “We’re not going to force you to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“We know this is a big adjustment,” Steve says, smiling down at you when you look at him. “So we don’t want to make you do something that would make you uncomfortable.”

The men go silent, as do you, allowing you to process their words. They’re right, of course. This is all so new for you, and even though you’re more than ready - you’ve been deprived of physical contact and a good orgasm for a while - you know it wouldn’t be a good decision to jump into a relationship like this so soon after leaving your ex.

Fuck good decisions.

“What if…” You trail off, biting your lip nervously. Deciding to be bold, you trail the hand on Bucky’s chest up until you can cup his cheek, smiling when he turns his head and kisses your palm.

“What if I do want to?” You glance over at Steve, batting your eyelashes and fighting the shiver that wants to run through your body when he groans, low and utterly sexy.

“And what exactly is it that you want?” Bucky asks, his voice dropping while moving his free hand to your back, slowly inching down until he can rest it on your ass, but not squeezing.

“I -“ Suddenly a whine is forced out of your mouth when Steve moves your hair and leans down so he can kiss and nibble at your neck. “Steve!”

Then, Bucky dips down while pulling your head closer to his so he can press a searing kiss on your lips, swallowing your moan as he squeezes and kneads your ass.

“Tell us what you want, kitten,” Steve murmurs, biting and sucking a dark bruise on your neck and laughing when you pull away from Bucky’s lips with a huff.

“I - fuck.” Your whining is bordering on desperation. The lack of physical and sexual contact for the last few months has finally caught up to you, and you’re about to cry with how needy you feel. “I want you to fuck me.”

Both men curse, Steve nodding but not removing his mouth from the column of your throat. And maybe if your head wasn’t already fogged over with desire you’d have heard Bucky’s muttered “finally.” As it is though, you don’t pay attention to anything other than their hands caressing and groping your body, the men working in tandem to strip you of your dress and lay you flat on your back in the middle of the bed.

Both men stand at the end of the bed, staring at you with dark lust in their eyes as Bucky palms his crotch. They stare for so long that you start to get self-conscious, wondering what they’re thinking. It was always quick with John, he never really focused on your pleasure but rather worried about getting himself off and asking with an infuriatingly smug grin if it was good. It never was, but you never told him that, you hate confrontation. So it’s a little unnerving to have sex be drawn out, to be the center of attention - and the attention coming from the two hottest men on the planet makes you squirm uncomfortably. You’re about to cover yourself with your arms when Bucky kneels on the bed and grabs one of your wrists, Steve appearing next to you so he can grab your other one.

“Don’t,” Bucky says hoarsely, a determined look in his eyes. “Don’t hide from us, kitten.”

An involuntary moan forces its way up your throat and out of your mouth, and you find yourself agreeing with a quick nod. “I-I’m sorry,” You whine, arching into Steve’s hand that has now found a home on your covered breast.

“Don’t be sorry, princess,” Steve murmurs trailing his hand from your breast to your neck, toying with the necklace John had given you on your sixth-month anniversary. You haven’t taken it off since, it felt like a mark of ownership. And at first, it felt good, you loved knowing you were John’s girl. However, as the relationship progressed and worsened with every day, it felt more like a chain, weighing you down and forcing you to stay tethered to him. Yes, it had occurred to you to take it off a few times, but you weren’t ready for it to end. Even though it was an extremely toxic relationship, you had nowhere to go.

“Did he give you this?” Steve asks, disdain clear in his voice. And when you nod, he hovers over you, smirking as he grips the necklace and pulls, the chain snapping in two as he flings it across the room. Ignoring your shocked gasp, Steve and Bucky lean back and get off the bed, resuming their earlier position near the end of it.

“She’s perfect, Stevie,” Bucky murmurs after a long moment of silence. Putting a hand on the back of his partner’s neck, he yanks him forward, pulling him into a downright filthy kiss that makes your legs immediately squeeze shut to relieve the growing ache in your core.

At your loud and needy whine, they pull away, both men working in sync to get undressed and hurry to lay on either side of you. Both of them have kept their boxers on, but the very large bulge straining against the fabric does absolutely nothing to hide their arousal.

“Are you sure you want this?” Bucky asks, and even though you can hear the desperation in his voice, you know deep in your bones that they would stop if you said no. And that just further cements your decision, you need them, you need to feel them and kiss them and have them worship you in ways John could never.

“I’m sure, Bucky.”

“Call me ‘Daddy’, princess,” He says, reaching up a hand and placing it on your throat. He doesn’t choke you, but the pressure lets you know that he wants to.

“I’m sure, Daddy.”

Bucky groans as though he’s been punched in the gut, and his hips jerk forward, rubbing his erection into your thigh. He dives down and captures your lips in a heated kiss, momentarily distracting you from everything around you. That is until you feel a hand travel down your stomach, ignoring your underwear and slipping inside to quickly cup your wet and aching pussy.

Pulling away, you let out another gasp, your gaze immediately shooting to your left to see Steve’s very smug smirk.

“Feel good?” He asks as he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly moving his middle finger up and down your slit until he finally pushes through, slipping the thick digit into your quivering hole all the way to the third knuckle.

“Oh God, yes! Yes, Steve.” He pulls his finger out momentarily, only to shove in two fingers - once again pushing in all the way.

“Sir,” Steve growls, leaning down to nibble at your ear. His gravely chuckle when you mumble, “Yes, sir,” sends tingles down your spine, and you’re near tears with how good but not enough his fingers feel.

“I-I need…” You trail off, whining pathetically when Steve removes his fingers again. You whine even louder when Steve pulls his hand out of your panties altogether, letting you see his fingers covered in your juices glinting in the moonlight. The sight doesn’t last long, because Bucky immediately dips down to suck on them, both men groaning in pleasure. The brunette doesn’t swallow though, he actually lets the fingers slip free from his mouth so he can capture his partner’s lips, letting Steve taste you too.

“Fuck,” You whimper, hands automatically tugging at both of their boxers in an attempt to move things along. “Please just fuck me already.”

They separate from each other, grinning wolfishly at each other for a moment before glancing down at your cute pout and pleading eyes.

“What’s the rush?” Steve asks, dipping down to give you a brief kiss. “We’ve got all night.”

Thankfully, though, they get with the program, maneuvering your body to their liking until your bra and panties are also discarded. And you’re about to undo the strap on your heels before Bucky grabs your ankle, shaking his head in disapproval.

“You’re keeping these on.” His command sends shivers down your spine, and you can’t even speak anymore with how turned on you are. Despite this, you somehow manage to whisper, “Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s good,” Steve says, moving to kneel on the bed next to your head while he palms his bulge with one hand and squeezes your cheeks between his fingers with the other. “You’re going to be a good girl for us, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir!” You say enthusiastically, nodding your head as best as you can. And due to Steve holding your head in place, you can’t see what Bucky is doing, but you feel your legs being pushed wide open as the bed dips between them.

“Good,” Steve mutters mostly to himself, giving you an unnervingly soft smile for the situation. “Now, Bucky’s been dying to taste you since he first laid eyes on you, so you’re going to let him worship your pussy while I fuck your mouth. Okay?”

If you weren’t already drunk with pleasure, this would’ve been the thing to send you under. His commanding tone and the heat of Bucky’s mouth so close to your dripping core already have you on edge, ready to snap at the slightest touch. And when you nod, Steve turns to his partner, nodding once and smirking when he dives in, parting your pussy lips and licking a long stripe from your hole to your throbbing clit, where he then sucks it into his mouth.

The borderline scream you emit is so loud you’d be surprised if anyone on this floor didn’t hear it, but it’s quickly muffled by Steve shoving his boxers down and easing his cock into your gaping mouth. Now, you’ve never really liked giving head - well, with John anyway. He was always too rough, and the fact that he never returned the favor made it seem more like a chore than anything.

But you could definitely get used to this. Steve’s girth stretches your lips wider than ever before, and even through the haze of pleasure, you can tell that he’s holding back, letting you get used to the stretch. It doesn’t take long, and a particularly rough nip to your clit has you sucking Steve’s cock further into your mouth, and the man curses above you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” Steve sighs, rocking his hips forward ever so slightly. When he finds little resistance, he pulls back and pushes in a little further, groaning deep in his chest when you bring up a hand to tug at his balls.

“Taste so fuckin’ good too, princess,” Bucky mumbles against your pussy, pulling away only briefly so he can easily slide two metal fingers in as deep as they could possibly go. It’s clear that his goal is to make you cum, and you’re not that far off. To be frank, your arousal has been building from the moment you met them, and they are not disappointing.

It only takes a few more thrusts of Bucky’s fingers and Steve’s hand coming down to wrap around your throat for you to cum - your cunt spasming and hips thrusting up into Bucky’s face as you chase your high. Soon enough, both men retreat from your body, giving you a short reprieve while they rid themselves of their underwear. Steve moves you so he can lay back against the headboard, adjusting your position so you can rest in between his legs with your back against his chest while Bucky hovers over you.

“Now, princess,” He murmurs, just loud enough for both of you to hear him, and taps your arm. “You’re going to hold onto Stevie while I ruin this pussy. Then, he’s goin’ to fuck my cum back into you.”

“Oh God yes, yes please, Daddy!” If your mind wasn’t deep in the pits of desire you’d probably be embarrassed by how needy you are, maybe even ashamed. Right now, though, you can’t imagine feeling anything but pure pleasure and happiness.

It all happens so fast, Steve grabbing the backs of your thighs so he can spread them wide and Bucky quickly following by pushing his cock - easily the longest you’ve ever taken - halfway into your cunt. He stops there for a moment, letting you get used to the sudden stretch before surprising you by pulling out until his tip is only poking in.

You’re frustrated, extremely so, and you’re pretty sure you’ll cry if he doesn’t fill you back up. And you’re about to start whining when the man above you thrusts forward, burying his cock so deep in your pussy that you swear you could feel him in your throat. Deep and guttural groans fill the air, a metal hand grasping your thigh and keeping it spread so Steve can wrap his arm around your midsection and hold you close while the pace quickly picks up.

And you’re in heaven, this must be heaven. Because in no other plane of existence would the two most handsome men in the world be touching and gripping you like you’re a priceless gem they’re afraid to lose. From behind you, Steve groans every time Bucky pushes into you, forcing you to shift in Steve’s lap and subconsciously grind into his throbbing erection.

“Fuck, kitten,” Bucky mutters, bracing one hand on the headboard and dropping your leg so he can grab your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look into his eyes - dark with a desire you’ve never known. But there’s something else there, something primal that no ordinary man could have, a sense of possessiveness and ownership that seeps out of his pores.

You can’t do anything except moan, your mouth parting wider to let out a scream when Bucky shifts slightly, thrusting and hitting that special spongey spot deep within you dead on.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she Stevie?”

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Steve says softly, running the hand he has on your stomach down to your pussy to rub at your hole, feeling where you and his partner are connected. “Always knew she would be.”

Thankfully for them, those words fly over your head. You’re already too fucked-out to think properly, do you even know what your name is?

When Steve swiftly moves his fingers to your clit, your answer is a confident no. All you can seem to focus on are these two men and the immense pleasure they’re giving you. And it takes only a few more thrusts for you to feel that coil in your tummy wind tighter and tighter.

“Is she gonna cum?” Steve asks cockily, noticing the way Bucky’s hips stutter and his brow furrows. Reaching up, Steve grabs the back of his partner’s neck and pulls him in for a rough and messy kiss - mainly tongue and teeth. When they pull away, Bucky is nearly breathless, and you can hear the cockiness in his voice when Steve tells him, “Make her. Come on, baby. Fucking fill her up so I can.”

Those words - coupled with the fingers rubbing your clit, the pressure on your neck, and the cock that’s currently rearranging your guts - make you cum harder than you’ve ever. It doesn’t even really feel like an orgasm, it’s better than that. Something squirts out of your pussy with every forward thrust, and if it weren’t for being sandwiched between the two buffest men to ever exist then you’d be positive you were floating off into the clouds.

Bucky follows soon after, a loud groan of your name filling the room before his hips are flush with yours. Vaguely, you can feel his seed filling your womb, coating your insides, and it takes a full minute for Bucky’s breathing to even out. When he finally regains his composure, he leans back, holding your hips steady and chuckling at the glazed look in your eyes.

“Ready for me to pull out, kitten?” The answer he gets is a mumbled and pitiful “no”, which he laughs at, affectionately patting your hip. “Sorry, princess, we have to let Stevie have his turn.”

With that, he nods to Steve, who reaches over to the nightstand and procures a phone, handing it to Bucky. Bucky places his metal hand on the inside of your right thigh, holding it in place while he goes to the camera app on his phone.

“Okay, princess, gonna pull out now.” With his phone aimed at your hips, he slowly pulls out, hissing quietly but not stopping until his cock finally slips free. He moans softly, and when you finally manage to lift your head enough to see what he’s doing you see the phone leaning closer, capturing the no doubt obscene view of his cum dripping out of your hole. Bucky takes a few pictures and then tosses the phone back to Steve, who places it back on the nightstand.

The men shift, maneuvering your limp body until you’re laying flat on your back with Steve kneeling on the bed between your legs while Bucky stands off to the side, gripping his still-hard cock.

“Alright, beautiful,” Steve says, adjusting a pillow underneath your hips. “You ready for me?”

It takes a second to process his words, but when you do you nod your head as fast as you can, nearly giving you whiplash. You don’t care though, all you care about is the delicious stretch in your core as Steve pushes in slowly.

“Fuck, kitten,” Steve growls, stopping when his crotch is flush against yours with his pubic bone pressing against your clit. He grinds his hips against yours, the stimulation to your clit making you whine loudly.

Steve is drastically different from Bucky, he fucks you slow and sweet, though no less forceful, reaching deep in your pussy until you can barely gasp for air. When your head lolls to the side, you see Bucky stroking his cock in time with Steve’s thrusts, and, without thinking, you reach for him, beckoning him forward until he’s close enough that you can wrap your hand around it. Both men moan, and Bucky brings up his flesh hand and cups one of your breasts, kneading the flesh and rubbing over your nipple, pinching and twisting just right so it’s bordering on a delicious kind of pain.

Then, a loud smack rings through the air, Steve’s hips jerking forward almost immediately after.

“Pick it up, babe,” Bucky says with a smirk, chuckling at Steve’s agitated look, but he does so nonetheless.

Steve starts fucking you with intent, slamming into you at a borderline inhuman speed - and you don’t know how it’s possible but the orgasm building in your core seems to be more intense than the last. And after a few more thrusts, you’re plunged into the dark abyss of pleasure - mind going blank as a loud sob rips through your throat.

It’s an indeterminate amount of time later when you regain consciousness, and this time you don’t recognize the room you’re in. It takes a few moments for you to shake the fogginess out of your mind enough to notice that you’re alone in the large bed, and when you raise your head to look around the room you can’t see Bucky or Steve. But the pictures of the two of them and friends scattered throughout the space show you that this is their room.

“Bucky?” You call softly, your eyebrows furrowing when you hear no reply. Stretching your arms above your head, you force yourself out of bed - noticing that you’re now covered with a large shirt that smells a lot like Steve’s cologne. You go into the bathroom to find it empty, then wander to the large walk-in closet - again, empty.

Where are they?

“Steve?” You say a little louder, tentatively opening the bedroom door and peeking out, finding the hallway empty and quiet. There’s a spark of uneasiness that ignites in your stomach, though you try to stomp it out by reasoning with yourself - they’re busy men, after all.

When you look to your right, you see a set of double doors at the end of the long hallway, and something in you tells you to check there. As you walk down to the doors, more uneasiness pops up, it just feels a little too quiet. But the closer you get you can start to hear whispers, and they become more prominent when you stop right outside the doors. Bits and pieces of conversation flow through the wood.

“I want him gone within the hour.”

“Off the bridge.”

“They won’t find him.”

But one line hits you differently.

“Don’t let her find out.”

Your curiosity is extremely peaked, and it takes all of your willpower to bring your hand up to knock. You feel a little like you’re intruding, but you’re too confused to not impose.

The door opens a few moments later, though it’s only cracked halfway, and Steve appears in the doorframe.

“Hello, beautiful,” He says sweetly, reaching out a hand to hold your hip. “Why don’t you go back do bed, hm? I’ll be right there.”

“But, Buck-”

“Is just dealing with a few things. We had to deal with a business related issue, but he’ll join us when he’s done.” Steve is calm, and the soft look in his eyes is enough to quell any anxiety you were feeling. You’re not sure how he’s able to do it, but he’s mesmerizing, already able to manipulate you to his liking.

You’re sure it’s supposed to be frightening, but you can’t find it in you to care. Unlike John, you know with an enormous amount of certainty that they would never harm you, they’ll protect you.

What you don’t know is just how far they’ll go to protect you - to save you from deadbeat men who are too selfish to not recognize a treasure when he has one. And men that are too stupid to know when he’s being lied to. You don’t need to know that, though.

So, with a smile and a kiss, he sends you on your way, only retreating back into the room when you go in theirs.

“That was close,” Bucky says as he hangs up the phone, putting it back in his pocket.

“It’s okay, she doesn’t know.” Steve turns to his partner, both of them wearing matching smirks. “And she never will.”

taglist (+ people who seemed interested): @yamitem @buckysprettybaby @kokeshi-mynx @cevansbaby-dove @biteofcherry

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic rec #bucky barns #bucky barns imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #stucky #stucky imagine #stucky x reader #stucky x reader imagine #mafia!stucky #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia!steve #mafia!steve rogers #let me know what y'all think!!#my writing #my stuff

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barneswinchester · 3 months

Text

MCU Masterlist III

as always, I don't own any of these, they're just my absolute favourites.

mcu masterlist I

mcu masterlist II

Bucky Barnes

SMUT 👅

drabble

look at me

bad date

welcome back

ride

on his knees

wake up bj

a taste of submission

a good plowin

bliss

printesa mea

somnophilia

languages of love

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

protective

purgatory

grouch

his safe place

night terrors

my babydoll

sensitive

safe with me

Steve Rogers

SMUT 👅

the game

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

my love is winter

the game

every step of the way

Stucky

SMUT 👅

feral

heat of the moment

a sweet treat

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

initials

I'm pregnant, not dying

brave new world

happy ending

last hope part two

Andy Barber

SMUT 👅

anonymous

Ari Levinson

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

you said I was your favourite

SMUT 👅

forget everything

Loki

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

bad dreams

Lee Bodecker

SMUT 👅

persuasion

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Text

Satisfied

18+

Mob!Steve x reader x Bodyguard!Bucky

This can be read as a stand alone. What started off as a oneshot turned into a final three part piece with our beautiful menaces.

Craving

Just a Taste

Warnings: Cuckolding, Breeding kink, pregnancy kink, lactation kink, dom Steve, switch Bucky, Sub reader, so much dirty talking

“Ready to take our cocks baby?”

You were tossed onto the bed while your husband smirked, his best friend beside him with a matching expression, both men ready to utterly ruin you. You could feel your stomach clench, your pussy already making a mess on the sheets watching Steve starting to loosen his tie.

“You gonna be a good girl for us princess? Listen to everything we tell you to do, make us feel good?”

“Yes daddy”

Bucky’s hand went down to palm his aching length, squeezing it at the way you looked up at Steve with pretty doe eyes before your gaze flicked over to him, a whimper slipping past your lips when you watched Bucky rub his erection.

“Already needy for his cock, hm? Greedy little baby, all it took was one taste and you’re already whining for him to stuff you full?” Steve cupped your face, pulling you down for a fiery kiss, while his other hand worked at his belt and unzipping his pants. You chased more of his lips, your nipples pebbled, skin hot with anticipation, both men still fully clothed while you were bare.

Bucky’s cock strained against his pants, It was almost painful, hearing your soft whines and whimpers as Steve slipped his tongue into your mouth. He tried to squeeze his length to calm himself down but it was pointless, there was already a prominent wet patch on his pants from where the tip of his cock rested. He watched Steve’s hand come down to rub through your folds, spreading your slick around. Bucky groaned at the sight of your glistening cunt as you spread your legs further, rubbing your clit while Steve stuffed his fingers into your mouth letting you taste yourself.

There was only so much restraint Bucky had.

Your eyes grew wide at the deep moan you heard behind Steve to find Bucky with his cock out, his fist working at his length, eyes locked on you. He bit his lip, giving himself slow strokes from the base of his cock, twisting at the head. Steve continued his ministrations, going back to toying with your pussy while he pulled his own cock out.

“You see what you do to him baby, couldn’t even keep it in his pants” Steve smirked, watching Bucky stroke himself, the head of his length a silky mess. Your husband pulled away, causing you to whine at the loss of contact.

“Come here and get on your knees sweets” Both men towered over you as you sunk to the floor, looking up at them, their leaky thick cocks hanging above your face. You let your fingers dig into Steve’s thighs as you took his tip into your mouth, moaning at the taste of him, working your tongue in swirls. You took more of him till your nose was flush against the base, choking and gagging on his length.

“Look at her, fuck-she’s-oh God she’s perfect” Bucky was already a babbling mess, watching you slobber over your husband, stroking him while you fit as much as you could into your mouth. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty doll”

Steve grinned proudly, lightly thrusting into your mouth, Bucky’s broken moans making his cock harder combined with your gagging. As gorgeous as you were on your knees for him, his cock twitched at the thought of you putting on a show for him. He shoved his cock deep into your throat, savoring your soft mouth before giving your bodyguard a taste.

“Suck his cock babygirl” Steve cooed, gently tugging your hair, pulling you off him and guiding you to Bucky’s leaking tip. Bucky’s eyes grew wide as you greedily lapped him up, your hand teaching up to play with Steve’s balls while you wrapped your lips around your husbands best friend. “That’s it pretty girl, give him some nice sloppy head, you dreamed of this didn’t you? Sucking his dick, tasting his balls, my filthy little bitch” Steve pushed your head all the way down till you choked, tears streaming down your face. Your thighs were sticky with arousal, your hands now clinging around Bucky’s meaty thighs, nose against the dark hair at the base of his cock. Your husband guided your head up and down, while bringing his hand up to jerk his cock at how perfectly slutty you were.

“Suck it, tell her how much you love it Buck, how much you love my wife on her knees for you with your dick in her mouth. Tell my precious baby how that’s all she’s good for, cockhungry whore” Bucky’s hands replaced Steve’s, carding through your hair as he started to fuck your mouth, his hips already starting to stutter.

“Your mouth feels good, so-so fucking good baby, think-fuck, I-I think I’m gonna cum” Bucky’s jaw was slack, his balls throbbing. “C’mon, suck-suck my balls baby, get ‘em both in your mouth” You pulled off with a pop, laving at his warm sac, letting your tongue dip to the underside of his balls making him nearly sob in pleasure, “Oh fuck, that’s it, God they’re so fuckin’ full printsessa, suck’em baby, feel how much cum I have for you”

You whined while keeping your mouth full, letting your hands trail between your legs. play with yourself instead. Your eyes rolled back, fluttering closed as you rubbed yourself faster, letting Bucky fuck your mouth, his balls hitting your chin.

“My poor needy baby, look at her, can’t ever keep her fucking hands to herself, playing with her tingly little button” Steve let out an amused laugh with a hint of a growl in his voice watching you rub your pussy while you sucked your bodyguard, your eyes closed, lost in how good he tasted. You drank every drop of precum, getting sloppy and messy, letting him practically grind his face on you whenever you sucked his balls. “You wanna be filled up with cock, don’t you baby”

You nodded, giving your husband pleading doe eyes; he nodded to Bucky, helping you onto your feet before tossing you over his shoulder and throwing you back onto the large bed. He sat against the headboard, dragging you like a rag doll to straddle his lap, pressing his length against your folds.

“Daddy, please” You rutted yourself on him, desperate for some type of relief, gasping when the tip of his cock pressed against your soaked cunt.

“Don’t be a brat, you’ll get all the cock you want” Steve spanked you ass, gripping your hips and sinking you down on his length, moaning with you as he buried himself to the hilt. Bucky couldn’t help himself, kneeling on the bed beside you both, jerking his cock while you started to move, riding your husband. You needed more, your pussy full but your mouth empty, greedily leaning over so you could take Bucky in your mouth, a pornographic moan escaping from his lips, catching him off guard.

“Oh-oh FUCK baby!”

“My pretty princess is such a fuckin’ whore” Steve moaned, throwing his head back while you continued to bounce on his cock while gagging and choking all over Bucky, pulling off his length with a pop just to get a taste of his balls again.

“You like those in your mouth, huh baby?”

“Tastes so good Daddy” You gathered the precum off Bucky’s cock, wetting you lips with his arousal before smashing your lips on Steve, letting him get a taste of what you making you so feral.

“Yeah? You like how he tastes baby? Didn’t realize you were such a cumslut baby, you love cum don’t you?” Steve snarled, thrusting up from underneath you while you let out choked moans, going back to slobbering all over Bucky. He wanted to cum so badly, fill you up but the fucked up part of his brain wouldn’t let him, only wanting to let go once you were utterly fucked out. He pushed you off his cock so you were lying down, beckoning for his best friend to have a turn instead.

“I wanna see how much of a slut you are baby. This is what you dreamed of, isn’t it princess? My best friend in our bed?” Steve sat against the headboard against the pillows, gripping the base of his length while Bucky crawled on top of you, his heavy cock bobbing between his legs. You whimpered, spreading your legs for him, his length streaking precum onto your tummy.

“What else did you need pretty baby, you want it fast or slow, you want me to fucking ruin this pussy or make love to you, hm?” Bucky slipped his thumb past your lips, groaning at the way you started to suck, desperate whines making him throb. “Tell us what you want sweets”

“I-I-

“You what, needy little baby, what does the little princess want” Bucky cooed, kissing up your neck nipping your jaw, his hand stroking your waist. “Spoilt babygirl, thinking of my cock”

You nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist while he groaned, teasing the tip around before slowly pushing himself in you. You moaned for him, digging your heels into his ass till he was all the way in your tummy. He started to rock his hips, grinding and rutting it cock deep in your pussy, a mix of lust and a tinge of envy coursing through his body.

“F-Fuck, you kept this little slut a secret” He groaned, thinking about all the times he thought you were too sweet, too precious, too innocent to even masturbate to. All the times he hated himself for thinking about his best friends pretty wife, the pretty angel he’d never get to touch, the pretty angel that was letting him now pump his load in her. “You gonna let us pump of full of cum baby?”

“Fill me up Bucky” You slurred out, too fucked out by the stretch of him to care about how needy and desperate you sounded. Steve cocked and eyebrow, watching you mark your bodyguard, dragging your nails across his back, nearly breaking the skin, digging your teeth into his neck. You were so feral for another man, so innocent to the outside world. Fuck he was so lucky.

“Look at you, moaning for another man in our bed baby, letting him fuck you raw, you feel his cum leaking in you sweets, you letting him make a mess in that tight little pussy?” Steve moaned out, stroking himself faster, watching Bucky pound your pussy, wrecking your body as if he owned it. “You want that baby, want my bestfriends cum in you baby? Say it you fuckin’ slut, say you want another man to cum in you”

“Want-I want his cum daddy!” You cried out while Bucky brought his knee up to fuck you deeper, thrusting into you till the headboard shook. He grunted, sweat beading at his forehead, keeping his face hidden against your neck, utterly lost in how badly he wanted to bust in your pussy.

“Steve-m’gonna cum-fuck-FUCK” Bucky started to pound you faster, fisting the sheets while his friend let out a breathless chuckle, his own orgasm crawling down his spine watching his wife get railed.

“She’s got you fucked huh? Her pussy makes you never wanna leave-shit”

“She’s so tight, how-fuck-how are you so tight baby, how the fuck are you taking my cock” Bucky pulled away from the crook of your neck, looking down at where you were both connected, nearly sobbing at the sight of his creamy cock sliding in and out of you, your cunt swallowing his length. “God, I wish you were mine, baby, I never wanna pull out, wanna be in this pussy every. Damn. Day” His hips slammed into you with each word, his balls growing heavier.

“Hear that princess, you like that?” Steve tucked some of the stray hair away from your face, your teary eyes gazing up at him. Your needy whiny whimpers just made it more difficult for either men to hold off much longer.

“Princess, can’t-I can’t hold it-m’gonna cum sweets, m’gonna fuckin’ bust in you”

“Want your cum James!” That was all he had to hear, thrusting and fucking you with abandon while Steve shoved his cock into your mouth, both men using you while you were a teary soaked mess.

“Oh fuuckk babygirl, you’re gonna get it baby, I promise, every fuckin’ drop till my balls are empty, m’gonna cum in you till I can drink your milk” Bucky smirked at the low growl he heard from Steve, fucking you harder, faster, both men going higher and higher. “Gonna get you so fuckin full of me, these tits are gonna be leaking for days baby, you’re gonna feed all of us, yeah?”

You nodded, letting out a muffled moan, feeling your husbands cock harden in your mouth. Bucky dipped his head down to latch onto your breast, sucking your nipple until it was sore and swollen.

“This is how you’re gonna feed us, huh princess, gonna feed us so fuckin’ good when you’re leaking with milk” Bucky moaned around your nipple, tugging it between his teeth while you mewled, squeezing his cock in your pussy. “Yeah, you gonna feed our baby, then feed your baby daddy? When daddy gets all hungry for mama’s sweet milk?”

“Gonna-fuck-gonna feed you James!”

Steve grinned, watching your eyes roll back at those words, he could tell you were so close, so fucking close. He tilted your face to meet his eyes, cooing at the way your clung onto Bucky.

“You gonna let him get you pregnant in our bed sweets? What about when you’re all swollen and round babygirl, all pretty and pregnant? You think he’s gonna take his eyes off you?” Steve smirked, knowing how protective Bucky was over you. “We’ll-we’ll be gentle sweets, don’t worry, he’s gonna take care of his little princess and her sensitive little button when you can’t reach over your belly”

“Mmmm,-hng- don’t-just shut the fuck up-” Bucky gritted, struggling not to cum, Steve’s words making him absolutely feral, picturing you pregnant.

“Don’t what, you don’t think she’ll look so pretty with that perfect belly all round, too swollen to even take care of herself”

“Oh god”

“Begging for someone to play with her down there when she’s all needy”

“Sh-shit”

“You think my slutty little wife won’t beg for your cock if I’m not home to take care of her? You know how needy and full she’s gonna get, she’s gonna feed us so good, Fuck-she’s such a whore, my fucking perfect little whore-oh SHITTT” Steve threw his head back, his hips lifting off the bed as he shot cum onto your face, painting your face with his cream.

“Steve-I-fuck, gonna fill her with my cum, theres-fuck baby theres so much, m’sorry, s’too much princess, m’gonna make sucha mess in your pussy, gonna ruin your fuckin’ sheets-Take-fuck-take it, I’M CUMMING IN HER, FUCKK”

“Cum in my wife, fucking cum in her, give my little slut all the cum he wants”

“I’M GONNA GET YOU PREGNANT BABY, TAKE ALL MY CUM” Bucky roared against your neck, his hand flying to the head board, letting it splinter under his grip as he stilled, his cock bursting with cum. You cried out with him as your own orgasm clenched around his cock making him shudder, everything around you a dull buzz, spots clouding your vision.

You felt like you were floating, too fucked out to register the warm cloth that grazed your skin or the cool lotion that was being rubbed onto your body. You only faintly felt the soft kisses that were peppered onto your body, whispers of what a good girl you were between praises of how much you were adored exchanged between Steve and Bucky.

You yawned, letting out a content sigh, feeling the warmth from your husband on one side, your bodyguard on the other, both men wrapping a protective arm around you.

“Rest up lil mama, you need it”

They didn’t see the little playful smile that curved on your lips at the feel of their still semi hard cocks; a nap would be a good idea before the rest of the night continued.

“Sleep well, babygirl”

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