#mafia bucky

[myfictionaldreams]

Safety Measures // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was the anniversary of Steve and Bucky saving you from your sadistic brother. Usually, it was a time of celebration for you, but this year, you couldn't help but feel paranoid and unsafe.

Extra reading: Last Hope for background context

A/N: Happy New Year, beautiful readers! I hope everyone is well and safe.

Requested by: @theatrelove3000 thank you so so much for the request and all your support with my writing. As always, you're the best!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, polyamory, ptsd, anxiety, paranoia, insomnia, discussion of past abuse, domestic fluff, dom/sub undertones, cock warming, subspace (kinda), hurt/comfort, new member of the family (yay!), puppy

Words: 4.8k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Insomnia was an issue you’d never had to deal with before. Not when you have two of the most powerful men of all of the East Coast tiring you out and wrapped around your body to make you feel safe and content.

However, as the seconds ticked by on the clock position on the nightstand next to the bed, you’d found that your body was willing to do anything but sleep. As midnight struck, any hope that had been inkling in your thoughts was diminished. There you were, half sprawled over Steve’s naked chest, his warmth burning through your skin, with Bucky spooning around your back, sandwiching you thoroughly between the two of them, legs crisscrossed between one another.

Even in the safe embrace, your heart continued to palpate painfully in your chest with such powerful thumps you were worried it would wake one of your lovers.

It was always this day. This date. Every year, that sprung fear through your soul, with the memories of your past returning to haunt you. Before Bucky. Before Steve or either of their safety and love, you’d been involved with your family business, reigned by your sadistic brother, Enzo, who was both hateful and abusive, causing you to live a life that was not worth living at all.

For countless years, you’d simply been floating through life, doing anything your brother demanded to benefit his gang. There was no hope, love, or light in your life until the men whose arms you were wrapped tightly in found you, saved you, and showed you what life was about. It hadn’t been an easy adjustment, especially with the violent and bloody end to your brother, but then readjusting to the newfound freedom had taken its toll. The anxiety from your past still haunts you to this very day.

In truth, in the first few years surrounding your brother's death anniversary, you’d celebrated the beginning of your new happiness and life. However, as you grew older and had to live through the dangers of being in the most infamous mafia gang in Brooklyn, your optimistic perspective became somewhat fragile with the realities of becoming close to losing everyone and everything you loved on multiple occasions.

So now, when this dark day loomed over your head once more, your anxiety rose along with the reminder of the horrors that you’d experience throughout your lifetime. Paranoia blossomed into something that was logically not plausible, frightened that somehow, Enzo would return and take you back to the hell hole he once kept you contained within.

These fears had been discussed with both Steve and Bucky on multiple occasions, as well as your friends, who promptly reminded you that nowhere was safer on earth than with all of them. There was 24/7 surveillance within the office and your home, guards patrolling, all armed and trained, as well as having the enhanced bodies of your boyfriends always at your side.

You were safe.

Safe.

And yet, still, there you lay. Wide awake, breaths shallow, trying to remain as quiet as possible so that you may listen to any sounds of intruders walking through your home. It is an impossible feat to do either way due to the pounding of your heartbeat without your ears, the repetitive thump and drum that increased in speed over the minutes. Your palms were becoming clammy where they were resting on Steve’s chest, a faint tremble beginning to throb through your limbs as well. You closed your fingers into a tight fist, attempting to cease the shaking whilst blowing out a long breath as the clock ticked to 00:01 am.

It was no use. You couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t just simply lay there and wait to be attacked or taken.

Carefully as you could, you attempted to climb out of your fierce hold, but due to your fragile state and the firm grip of Steve and Bucky, the movements stirred them both awake.

“Baby? Everything ok? Where are you going?” Steve asked, still half asleep but attempting to rouse himself more by rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Sorry”, you whisper into the darkness, “I just needed to use the bathroom”. The lie trembled from your lips as you clumsily searched the bedroom floor for some clothing to cover your naked body. From the smell of the shirt that you were now tugging over your head, you’d found Bucky’s t-shirt in the dark. As your eyes adjusted to remain in the darkness, you could see Bucky moving closer to Steve on the bed, his face resting on the blonde's chest, replacing where you’d been.

The sight had you smiling for a split second before a rustle of the wind against the windows drew your frightened attention back to reality. Stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you, there was a stalling moment where the walls seemed to close around you. Strangling. Suffocation. The fears of your past squeezing closer.

“No”, you chastise yourself in a whisper barely audible as you take a single sweeping step towards the sink, running the cold water to splash it on your face. “Enzo is dead. Stop freaking out, you’re being ridiculous!”. Yes, you were having a conversation with yourself, but only because it was a coping mechanism before you completely lost your mind and had a panic attack.

“Get a hold of yourself!”, you continue the monologue whilst staring at your distressed reflection in the mirror. “You’re safe here in your home”. For some reason, your bottom lip began quivering with the rising emotions and the overwhelming urge to cry. Giving your body a thorough head-to-body shake and angrily wiping away the traitorous tears dripping down your cheeks, you also gave yourself stern talking.

“Either you get yourself together, or you embarrass yourself and wake up Steve and Bucky”. You wouldn’t, not when it was something as irrational as being frightened that your definitely deceased deranged brother would somehow return from the dead to steal you to a life of misery. You couldn’t stomach waking them from their slumber to see the sad puppy eyes they would give you as they told you all the things you already knew. You were safe with them; they’d never let anything bad happen.

Filling your lungs with air, you blew out a long, slow breath until your lungs were completely empty. “Right. One search of the house and back to bed”, you decided, needing to check the surroundings with the hopes it would ease your battle with anxiety and insomnia.

Upon leaving the ensuite bathroom, you were thankfully greeted by the sound of two distinctively soft snores from both men still lying together in bed. Tip-toeing past them and into the hallway, you made sure to keep the lights off with your eyes having adjusted to the darkness as you approached Steve’s office.

There were a few things that you needed from this room. Firstly, to check the security camera feeds from his laptop, showing every angle possible surrounding the house and inside the many rooms of the luxury property. The baseball bat was also hiding beneath the desk. It was one of many weapons stashed throughout your home, carefully placed by both Bucky and his bodyguard Natasha and even though a gun would be a swifter finale for any intruder, there were still more consequences if you were to shoot the firearm accidentally and hit the wrong target whereas, with a bat, you could still keep someone at arm's length and also not fatally wound a friend if they came knocking at the door.

Clutching the smooth bat in both of your trembling hands, you watched the screen, flicking between rooms and areas of the exterior of your home, not spotting a single leaf out of place. In fact, the only emotion that seemed to bloom through your chest was adoration as you stared at the bedroom video feed, noticing that Bucky was now the bigger spoon, wrapped thoroughly around Steve, whose hands were stretched out to your side of the bed, like in his unconscious state, he was still searching for you.

Guilt settled heavily in your stomach at the sight, and closed the laptop with a sigh. You knew this paranoia would fade by the time tomorrow came around. Still, it was completely illogical for you to react rationally today, so with a sigh that echoed around the office, you stood and began to search the property physically.

Holding the bat at arm's length, you peeked around corners first then swung before stepping out. You'd been trained to use all the weapons scattered throughout the house with Steve, Bucky, and Natasha, even with how to strike with a baseball bat effectively.

Every shift of shadows out of the corner of your eyes and every creak of the house naturally settling or knocking with the raging winds outside had your heart racing and senses going into full alert.

One check of the house turned into four full sweeps to ensure no one was there. It was also a slow and thorough check, so by the time you were stepping carefully through the kitchen, glancing out of the back window and into the dark abyss that was your back garden. The creak of footsteps echoed from upstairs; you’d become lost and disorientated on the search, and you had neglected to check the time.

05:03 am.

A sniffle and quiet cough followed the footsteps of the man who had decided to wake earlier than most. In a rush of adrenaline and the need to not be found with a baseball bat in hand like a crazy lady in the dark, you decided to hide the weapon in one of the kitchen cupboards and quickly pretended to be preparing coffee as the sleepy steps wandered down the carpeted stairs.

Placing two cups onto the kitchen counter, you almost held your breath in anticipation for the morning grumbly welcome by whoever had woken first. Steve and Bucky both like to be awake early, much to your usual pleas for them to stay in bed.

However, as the man walked into the kitchen, not a single word was shared as he stepped up close behind you, enveloping your body in a warm and metal arm, wrapping tightly around your waist and pulling you backwards until flush against a naked chest. Stubbled cheeks nuzzled into your neck as lips gently kissed the sensitive skin as you sighed, eyes closing and all tension diminishing into the floor at the feeling of finally being safe.

The two of you swayed on the spot, wrapped in the tight embrace, listening to the water in the coffee pot. One of your hand gripped onto the metal fingers, feeling the smooth material beginning to warm and match the temperature of your skin. The other hand lifted to rest on the back of his head, scratching his buzzed hair, earning a comforting moan from Bucky as he kissed your jaw.

“It’s a rare day when you’re awake before me”, Bucky whispers into the shell of your ear before kissing it. Goosebumps lined your body with the gruff tone of his early morning voice. He didn’t pester you any more about why you were awake at this time, but he did pinch the hem of your shirt. “Is it your plan to always wear my shirts so I must be topless?”

His words pulled a giggle from your lips, shaking your head as you poured the coffee into each cup. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”.

The two of you sat at the dining room table, coffee in one hand and in the other you held onto one another, admiring the night turn into the day with dawn breaking over the fences that lined the back garden. It was blissful and a welcomed distraction from the terrors beneath your surface.

Steve eventually joined, groaning about waking up alone as he kissed you, then Bucky on the back of the head. “Who knew the big grown mafia boss could be so needy?” Bucky quipped with a teasing smirk over the rip of his cup before taking another glug of the coffee.

“That’s a lot of sass for someone who will be going without any breakfast if he keeps it up”, Steve grumbles as he looks through the refrigerator to start preparing the three of you breakfast like he did on most mornings. Before Bucky could respond, Steve asked curiously, “Why is there a baseball bat in with the plates?”

Your eyes downcast to stare into your empty cup, shrugging your shoulders at the burning stares of your boyfriends. “I don’t know. Anyway, who wants a fresh coffee?”

Thankfully, nothing more was mentioned regarding the random appearance of the baseball bat as the three of you ate and prepared to head into the office. You were thankful for the distraction working in the gang gave you, especially on a stressful day like today. Although the paranoia and anxiety that had kept you awake still bubbled away beneath the surface.

On the car journey to work, even squished between Steve and Bucky in the back seats, their hands eagerly resting on the naked skin of your thighs, having pushed the dress up to have the contact. Even your bodyguard and best friend Sam, who was driving the vehicle, couldn’t ease the panic that came from every car horn that blared, the dangerously speeding vehicles that passed or just the erratic driving that was expected with other idiots on the road.

Every single disruption had you anticipating that the car you were in would be hit or stopped, and your brother would then arrive and drag you away. Of course, this didn’t happen, and as you came to work, another heavy sigh released from your body as you walked through the extensive security to get to the office.

New shipments of discreetly stolen goods had arrived, which was a welcome distraction for you, checking the quality and organising where and to whom it would be sold. This only lasted for an hour before the coldness began to creep in, and you made excuses to return to Steve and Bucky back in the office.

“You know you can talk to us, right?” Bucky reminds you carefully whilst pulling your chair closer to his. You couldn’t meet his intense stare as you shifted your body under his awaiting arm so you were cuddled close to his side.

“Yep”, you respond casually, leaning into his warmth.

Bucky’s face lowered to your ear as he stroked his fingers down your arm. “And you also know you’re safe with me. With Steve. In this building or home. I’d do anything to keep you safe, Doll”.

You smile politely at him, trying to ignore the guilt that, for some reason, passed over you as you reached to take his hand that was draped over your shoulders. “I know”.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Bbcky checking his phone for the 15th time in an hour. Not that you’d been counting.

Finally, he seemed to receive the notification he’d been waiting for as he suddenly sprung up from his seat, pulling his leather jacket swiftly.

A frown settled over your features as you sat forward, “where are you going?”

Bucky glanced towards Steve first before addressing your question. “I’ve just got some errands to run, nothing special. I won’t be long, Sweetheart”.

He was leaving you. On a day when you needed him most so that you felt safe, he for some reason had to go.

You stood abruptly, pushing back your chair and taking urgent steps towards him whilst nervously playing with your fingers. “You’re going to leave me on my own!”

“Who am I? The milkman?” Sam joked from where he was standing near the door, and you instantly regretted the words, having not meant them that way. What’s worse is that Steve muttered something under his breath from his desk and now you were riddled with more guilt as Bucky’s sad eyes turned to you, his hands resting heavily on your shoulders.

“I won’t be long, and maybe you’ll get a surprise later.” He tried to bring a smile to your lips, but it was worthless as you were caught between staring at Sam and Steve, trying to find the words to apologise. Bucky breathed heavily through his nose at seeing you distraught, but then his phone pinged again, so with one last kiss to your temple, he made his way to the exit.

Turning to Sam whilst awkwardly rubbing your cheek to ease the burning of embarrassment under your skin, you attempted to apologise, but Steve cut off your sentence. “I’m sorr-”.

“Baby, come here”.

Turning towards the comforting voice, you saw that Steve’s full attention was now on you. He’d moved his seat away from his desk and opened his arm, a clear sign for you to approach, which you did with rushed steps before climbing into his warm, sturdy lap. Your knees rested on either side of his thighs as your fingers caded through the curling blonde hair at the nape of his neck which you were quick to bury your face into, breathing in his calming cologne.

“I’m sorry about the comment; I didn’t mean it like that. I know I’m not alone. My head is just all over the place and-”.

“Shh, I know, baby, you don’t need to explain yourself. I know you’d rather us both be around for you today”. There it was. The one small mention and reference made by someone else that this was a day that you hated. It’s not that it needed to be spoken about as it had been clear that both of your boyfriends had been trying their hardest to be there for you today by being at your side as much as possible, constantly checking in with your emotions and making sure you ate and drank enough.

But Steve saying it out loud seemed to make it all the more real, so as you clung to him with more desperation, his arms did just the same until it felt as if there wasn’t a single part of you that wasn’t currently being touched by his giant frame.

“I love you, Steve, so much”, you plead to him in a tired daze, finally feeling somewhat safe now that you were crowded into his body.

“I’d do anything for you, baby girl, you know that. I love you too. Try and get some sleep; it’ll make the day go faster”.

You wanted to and knew you could if you’d let your eyes drop close, but something still wasn’t sitting right like an itch that needed to be scratched.

“Could I please make one request… sir?” you say, nerves beginning to flicker through your chest at the intimacy of the request, already starting to switch into the role of the submissive mind, especially after the fragile state you’d been in all day.

Steve seemed to straighten his posture at using the name, and his lips kissed the top of your head a few times before he responded, “Anything”.

Lifting your head away from his neck and gazing into the endlessly intense blue eyes that always looked so kindly down at you, you asked, “Please can we touch everywhere? I just want to sit and be close”.

Steve tried not to smile at the innocence and the way you couldn’t even say the words, ‘Please can I cock warm you?’ which he knew was what you were asking. Reaching between your bodies, he began to undo his belt and zipper, “You know you don’t need to ask, Sweetheart. I want you to feel comfortable”.

You could never explain to someone why you loved the thought of cock warming so much. It seemed to settle both your nerves and put you into a relaxing state. Not at all times, though. Half the time, it would just turn you into a horny, wet mess that ended with you riding the cock until at least three orgasms. But other times, such as now, you just needed to be stretched and feel as close to Steve as possible.

Lifting higher onto your knees, you moved aside your underwear and lifted the front of your dress as you manoeuvred yourself to accommodate the toe-curling length that was Steve Rogers. Through your groaning sigh, you couldn’t hear Steve’s matching noise as he made sure you were comfortable with a steading arm around your hips before shuffling his seat closer to the desk and continuing with his work and talking to Sam about an email he’d just received.

You were asleep before hearing the end of the email being read out. Your head is resting on his shoulder, hands loosely holding onto the material of his crisp navy blue shirt. You were warm, full and safe.

Hours later, as the sun began to set and the day passed, you were still drowsy, much more relaxed than you had been in the morning. You’d wake up to Steve packing his belongings and Sam saying he’d warm the car for you and Steve.

As you gathered your disorientated thoughts and tried to sit up, you noticed that Steve was very much still thoroughly hard inside of your soaked cunt. Silently, you thanked whatever super serum had been injected into him during his time in the army. You clenched at the realisation, and Steve hummed in contentment at realising you were waking up.

“Let’s get you home. Bucky’s waiting there for us”,  Steve informed quietly whilst cupping your cheek tenderly.

With the position you’d been sitting in, your legs were sore and tense, but Steve was more than happy to carry you down, even with his cock still inside. However, with the movements of his steps, it caused his length to ease in and out of your already sensitive cunt that by the time you’d made it to the car, you were clinging desperately to his shoulders as an orgasm rushed through you, pulsing between your legs.

Steve’s knees nearly buckled as he rested your frame against the side of the car, his face dropping to your neck as he breathed you in deeply. Your cunt continued to clench around his cock until he, too, joined you in euphoria with a deep grunt and a snap of his hips; warmth flooded your hole and began dripping out and onto the floor. Neither of you or his employees batted an eyelid as both of you came. 

Once in the car, you were so distracted with cleaning each other up that the idiots in other vehicles that had panicked you on the way in, didn’t remotely phase you.

Wishing Sam a good night, you and Steve walked up to your front door, hand in hand. Steve opened the front door for you, letting you walk into the living room first, where you abruptly stopped, causing the blonde to nearly knock into you.

“I promise I tried to stop him, but he’s a feral little beast!” Bucky exclaimed from where he sat on the floor, surrounded by something that could only be described as chaos.

It seemed all of the decorative pillows had been utterly destroyed as the contents of the fluff covered all of the surfaces. Not only this, but there were half-eaten shoes, and the corners of the couches and coffee table seemed to have tiny bite marks gnawed into them.

“Bucky?! What did you do?” You couldn’t even comprehend where the mess began and ended as you looked at your dishevelled boyfriend sitting on the floor. Well, he was more lying down, reaching beneath one of the couches as he began to sit up and plastered a wide, toothy grin towards you.

“Surprise!” Bucky shouts with exhausted joy as Steve sighs with a shaky laugh from behind you.

“Surprise? What kind of a surprise is my home being destroyed?” you say, gobsmacked, staring longingly at your favourite cushions ripped to shreds.

As Bucky opened his mouth to explain, a tiny yap sounded from beneath the furniture where he’d just been reaching, and suddenly, a bundle of black fur was pounding for your ankles. It took you a second to drop to your knees and gasp, reaching for the puppy.

“Careful! His teeth are viscous”, Bucky warns, trying to reach forward to grab the animal, but you beat him to it and pull the pup into your lap.

“Oh my god, look at you! Aren’t you just the most beautiful little thing! Was it you that destroyed my lovely cushions? It was, wasn’t it? That’s okay. I forgive you. I’ll forgive you for everything. You're just so damn cute!” you couldn’t help but talk in a childishly high voice as you spoke to the adorable little puppy.

Thankfully, he didn’t bite you with his tiny sharp teeth and instead rolled onto his back on your legs, his paws resting in the air as he waited for a belly rub you happily gave him with carefully placed head kisses.

“You didn’t tell me you were getting a new guard dog! And what happened to the rule of not letting them into the house?” you asked Bucky as you continued to pet the pup.

Steve squatted down next to you, reaching to stroke the puppy behind his ears but then quickly retreating as the tiny sharp teeth nearly nipped his fingers. “He’s not going to be a guard dog; he’s going to be your dog”.

Your head spun with how fast you looked between your boyfriends as you screamed, “What?!”

“Yep! He’s all yours. He’s a Rottweiler and is eight weeks old. They’re known to be a protective breed and great guard dogs, so we will have him properly trained a couple of times a week for this, but we also want him to be yours”. As Bucky explained he knelt closer which earned the attention of your new puppy who watched him closely but continued to lick your fingers in between as you scratched the top of his head.

Steve rested a firm hand on your lower back as he continued, “We know how difficult today is, even with our reassurance that you are safe from Enzo”. Even just hearing his name, your whole body tightens and locks, almost forgetting to breathe until a certain puppy begins to wiggle and try and jump up your body to attempt to lick your face, having noticed the change in demeanour. “We wanted there to be someone around for you all the time, just with the chance that you could still feel safe if Bucky or I weren’t by your side. So, we are hoping this little rascal will be able to do this”, Steve says playfully, stroking along the puppy's back but quickly withdrawing when he nearly nipped again.

“Thank you. Both of you. I don’t even know where to begin with telling you how amazing this gift is”, you say brightly, glancing between the two men you loved most in the world.

“Don’t thank us; it’s the least we could do”, Steve mutters whilst leaning in to kiss your cheek and then standing up, beginning to grab handfuls of fluff from all the surfaces with an attempt at cleaning up the mess.

“I just want you to be happy”, Bucky whispers whilst kissing your other cheek, but then his gaze moves to the puppy, and a line forms between his brows as he frowns. “There will be some ground rules, though. No dog on the couch or in bed. We need boundaries”.

You nod your head in understanding but lean closer to whisper to the pup loud enough that Steve and Bucky could still hear. “Don’t listen to the grumpy old man. You can stay wherever you’d like!”

Bucky sighs whilst rolling his eyes and begins to help Steve with cleaning.

The three of you were sat in front of the TV watching a late-night film. The four of you were sitting on the couch as the puppy was resting in your lap, exhausted from all the playing you’d been doing and now resting as you tried to think of a name for the little guy.

“What about Winchester? That’s a good dog name, right?” you ask the boys, but mostly the dog, hoping he would react to one of the suggestions, but he hasn’t succeeded so far. You pondered some more whilst petting his little black ears. “Oh, what about Sargeant?! No… what about Rogers? No…”. You gave up trying to think of a name off the top of your head and began to scroll for suggestions online.

“Max? Brutus? Thor? Um, nope, these aren’t good. Chase? Ari? Bullet? Dodger? Bli-” Your suggestions stop as the puppy’s head tilts to look at you, seeming more awake. “What is it? Is it one of the names? Ari?” No response, “Bullet?” still no response. “Dodger?” his precious little tail began to wag as he yapped.

“Dodger? You like that name?” he barked again, attempting to climb higher up your body to lick your face as you laughed fondly.

“Dodger it is”, Steve announced from your side with a smile.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky #stucky #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #marvel smut #mafia au #mafia stucky #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky #mine*

[queers-gambit]

Adore Her, Dior Her

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

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 4.3k+

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

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

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

"Why did we even agree to go?"

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

"But she's just so - "

"Jen. Her name's Jen."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You literally drove us here," you laughed.

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

"Last time you said that - "

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

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

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

You sighed, "Why?"

"You wanna stay in New York for Christmas?"

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

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

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

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

"Oh," you nodded slowly.

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

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

"You know how to ski?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Like it?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Shall we show Mr. Barnes?"

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

"Hush, we're only buying one."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really? How'd that happen?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Diamonds?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Bucky, no - "

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

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

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

"You can save it for a rainy day?"

He shrugged, "Not necessary."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's not a solution!"

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

"Hmm?"

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

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

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

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

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

"What's that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

requesting rules and masterlist

MCU masterlist

#bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky barnes #mob bucky #mob bucky barnes #mafia bucky #mafia bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem reader #mafia bucky barnes x reader #mafia bucky barnes x female!reader #mafia bucky barnes x f!reader #mafia bucky barnes x fem!reader #mafia au #bucky mafia au #mafia bucky au #mafia bucky x female!reader #mafia bucky x reader #mafia bucky x you #mafia bucky x y/n #mob bucky au #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky x you #mob bucky x y/n

[purple-babygirl]

my bucky?

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x f!reader (reader is little in the very beginning)

Word count: 7,390

Summary: Bucky's angel finally sees the hidden side of him.

Warnings: details of violence, kidnapping, getting shot, physical abuse by kidnappers, slapping, too much crying, angst

A/N: to all the nonnies that came to me once and asked "what if angel saw bucky beating someone up?" "what if angel gets kidnapped?", this is for you💜 i hope you have a good time with this one, loves x💜

~

Whenever he’d think of her, he’d think of jasmines. Soft, fragrant, pure-looking, fragile, beautiful jasmines. Like jasmines, she released her sweet perfume engulfed by the darkness of his night. Only he got to bask in her aroma. And like a jasmine in autumn, he’d fallen for her evergreen soul and he’d fallen hard.

Bucky knew she saw him through a pink lens. She ate up his lies like candy and although he felt bad, he knew it was for the best. He could visibly see her running out the door whenever he’d imagine someone opening her eyes to how cruel he actually was. It was selfish, but it was easier for him and safer for her this way. Better for both of them.

Luck wasn’t exactly his best friend though.

Bucky would never forget the look in her innocent, teary eyes as she watched him literally beat the life out of a man with all his might. He knew it was fairly stupid of him to do it in the back of his own garage, right next to his house where she was peacefully getting ready to call it a night. But he just couldn’t hold back when he saw the guy’s dumb face when his men brought him in.

“Miss?” She found Roseanne by the door, looking more nervous than usual.

She was shocked, no, terrified at the scene she couldn’t take her eyes away from. How and why was she even here in the first place?

~

Daddy said he’d be back for story time but he hasn’t been back yet. What was taking him so long?

She couldn’t fall asleep if his voice wasn’t lolling her to sleep. She couldn’t fall asleep if it wasn’t in his arms. Life without him just didn’t make sense anymore.

She got out of bed, slipped in her fluffy cat slippers and went on a little quest to find him. Bucky was always happy to see her so he’d forgive her for getting out of bed where he’d expected her to wait.

“Roseanne, have you seen my Bucky?” she asked with a smile.

“I think he’s busy right now, miss. You better wait in your room where it’s warm,” Roseanne tried to tempt her, using the cold as a good reason why she shouldn’t go outside where Bucky was.

The young woman looked distressed, like she was scared of something.

“What’s wrong, Roseanne? Is daddy okay?” she questioned the poor maid, her smile leaving her face.

“Yes, miss. Don’t worry. He’s just a little busy but he’ll be here soon.”

“Is he in the office?”

“I— I don’t know, miss. I think he is,” Roseanne lied.

She tilted her head suspiciously before running to the office to check it out, leaving Roseanne’s pleads for her to get back to the bedroom behind.

It seemed even more suspicious now that Bucky was nowhere to be seen in his office. It didn’t feel right and she had to find Bucky and make sure he was okay. Bucky always knew how to calm all her worries. He knew what to do and what to say.

Bucky protects her and is here for her.

But wait a minute, she didn’t hear his car leave. And if the car didn’t leave then Daddy was certainly in the house, she just missed him while looking.

She roamed the whole mansion, up and down, checking every room twice and she still couldn’t find her daddy.

Her mind was getting cloudier and she was getting more scared. Did daddy leave? Where would he go without letting her know that he’d be leaving? Why didn’t he kiss her forehead goodnight before leaving?

She made her way outside the main door and took sure steps to the large garage, once again taking no regard of Roseanne’s begging, confident in her smart train of thought.

When she arrived at the garage though, the pants she heard startled her to a halt as she ducked behind the black Range Rover.

Was that really Bucky? Her Bucky? Beating up a man to the point where his features weren’t recognizable anymore? That wasn’t possible. Her daddy was a sweetheart. He was the gentlest man she’s ever met and he wouldn’t hurt anyone like that. She knew he was feared because of his work, but he couldn’t kill anyone. Could he?

She peeked around and fell silent as a rock. The sight before her made her feel cold, leaving her poor mind perplexed.

On the first look, she couldn’t fathom what she was looking at. She wanted to look away. She did. But she couldn’t will her head to turn even just a little.

“How stupid do you have to be to think I wouldn’t know you were sent here to hurt my girl?”

A stronger pang hit her little heart when she realized this was happening because of her.

No, this was no bad dream though she’d hoped with all her heart that it was.

She’d made Daddy promise that he wouldn’t hurt anybody on her behalf. He’d promised to choose forgiveness if it was an option. It didn’t make any sense.

Was she too sleepy that she was seeing things? Did her little mind fall asleep without a story anyway and she was having a nightmare?

Sam had seen her first, wide eyes tearing up at the sight of her man smashing another’s face with his fist. He’d tried to tell Bucky, but it was too late. She’d already seen it all.

Those fingers that have ever so tenderly glided across her cheeks time and time again were hidden behind brass knuckles, covered in someone’s blood. That jaw that has only ever tensed from smiling too much around her was clenched, making him look scarier than she could’ve ever imagined him to be. His eyebrows were furrowed and his breaths heavy as he repeatedly and ruthlessly punched the man on the chair.

Her fear intensified when she’d recognized the beaten up man as their newest driver. She remembered him trying to repeatedly ask her if she wanted to go get ice cream with him when Bucky wasn’t home. She also remembered saying no like she was taught. She remembered Bucky promising to choose forgiveness if it was an option again and she saw him break his promise.

“Bucky, enough!” Sam pulled him away from the tied up guy, head nodding to the black vehicle.

Her head went dizzy when she thought of all the men she’d complained to Bucky about since they’d started their relationship. Have they all faced the same fate?

Who was this heaving, bloody-fisted beast before her? Did she ever know Bucky at all? Was he ever truthful about anything he’d told her or was it all just a big lie? How could she trust him with herself ever again? Who was her daddy really?

The walls around Bucky collapsed and he almost collapsed with them when he saw her face. She was there and she’d seen everything. His angel saw it all. His angel was scared. She was scared of him.

“Angeră?”

Her legs no longer wanted to hold her up once she heard his hoarse voice. The air was out of her lungs as she took slow steps back until she pressed herself to one of the grey walls behind her. The stuffie in her hands fell to the ground and with it her heart.

She wanted to run, but her cold body wouldn’t budge. Maybe if she could go back to the house right now, listen to Roseanne, stay in bed, and pretend this never happened, Bucky would miraculously come back with a perfectly healed, clean hand and they would peacefully have a cuddling session while his loving voice told her a story.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she begged, her voice above a whisper as she cowered away from him.

Bucky carefully walked closer, visibly watching her hands tremble. He raised his clean hand to caress her cheek like he always would when she needed him to calm her down.

He wasn’t expecting her to lean into his touch like she was used to, but it still shot daggers to his heart when she flinched, closing her eyes in fear and letting out the tiniest whimper.

“Angel, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Bucky’s broken voice had her heart clenching as she saw him trying to muster up a smile.

“Stay away from me,” she said in panic when he tried to take another step towards her.

“Angeră—”

“Please, Bucky, I’m sorry.”

She didn’t call him daddy or even her Bucky. She couldn’t.

“Baby, let me—”

She shook her head, running away from a shattered Bucky, almost tripping on her own feet.

“Go, we’ll take care of him,” Sam told him, patting his shoulder.

He watched her run as if she was escaping a wild lion, terrified and fearing for her life.

Bucky slammed his fist into the concrete wall where his love once leaned before slipping the brass knuckles off his probably broken fingers and hearing them clank on the ground. He rested both palms on the wall and let his head fall down as he breathed hard.

“Dragă, nu! Te rog, (love, no please)” Bucky begged, his hands grabbing her forearms to stop her from throwing more of her things into the suitcase.

Bucky ran like a mad man on the way to their house. He had no idea what he was going to say or how he was going to justify what she’d just witnessed him do.

She called him Bucky with glossed over eyes. She was bordering on little and he just gave her the trauma of her life. He had no answers to any possible question she might rightfully throw at him. Bucky only knew that he couldn’t lose her; she was the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He busted through the front door and ran up the stairs only to be met with her frantically packing her things, fat tears soaking her face as she hiccupped out sobs.

“Please let me leave.” Her voice trembled and more tears left her eyes. His right hand had dried blood all over it and it made her skin crawl.

“Please don’t,” Bucky pleaded again, on the verge of crying himself.

“I’m really scared. Please don’t make me stay here,” she begged Bucky, trying to slip out of his grip.

“Angel, please believe me. I will never hurt you,” Bucky swore, his eyes brimming with tears.

“Angel, of course I love you! Please just stay and listen to me, baby.” Tears rolled down Bucky’s cheeks as he took a dress out of her hands before she could pack it.

“Did you ever really love me? Would you really never hurt me? Was anything you ever told me the truth?” Her voice was way too innocent as the questions left her trembling lips.

She didn’t even sound like she was blaming Bucky, she just sounded confused. Disappointed. Hurt.

“I wanna leave. Please let me leave,” she repeated, crying harder as she tried not to let herself crumble down on the floor of their bedroom.

“Angel, please don’t say that.” Bucky shook his head, holding onto her writs for dear life, “I can’t live without you, love. I can’t.”

She looked up at him and the look she gave him let him know she wasn’t little anymore.

Bucky despised himself for making her feel and think that way, “angel—”

“Why did you ever take me? Why did you bring me here?” She asked, the reproach hurting her too, “I didn’t know what love was before you. I trusted you. I trusted you with my heart, Bucky.”

She was saying everything that came to her mind, unable to keep her thoughts inside or else it felt like they might suffocate her. She was mad at herself for letting herself trust and love when she shouldn’t have.

“Are you used to doing this to people? Do you kill people, Bucky?” Her voice broke as she asked, already fearing the answer.

“Angel, please.”

“No, answer me.” Her eyebrows furrowed in sadness, anxious of the reply she was about to receive.

Bucky closed his eyes, not wanting to see her face when he told her his truth, “yes.”

“Yes.” Bucky nodded, hot tears leaving his closed eyes.

Her breath hitched at his answer, making more tears leave his eyes.

“D-Did you do this to the other guys I complained about before, too?”

“Did you kill them?” Her tone fell with her heart.

Bucky only swallowed, going dead silent at her question.

“Oh my god.” She cried, her knees almost giving out as she tried to get her arms free from his grip.

“No, no, angel, I only drove them out of town. They’re alive.” He assured her, leaving out the details about the probable permanent disabilities some of them left town with.

“Why?” She sobbed, her shoulders hurting from squirming in his grasp with no avail.

“They were bothering you.”

“So this makes it okay to kidnap them and beat them up?!” She screamed, her tears never drying up.

“I wanted to protect you,” Bucky whispered, his heart dropping at the realization of how his angel must see him now.

“Protect me from you then and let me go.” Her words shot daggers right into the mafia boss’ chest.

“I can’t believe I loved you so much.” She whispered, mostly to herself, lamenting her foolish, trusting heart.

“Angel, I can’t. You know I can’t.” He knew she was right, but he couldn’t let her leave.

She was his whole world; his life and everything good in it.

“Loved?” Bucky could hear his heart shattering.

“Loved,” she replied despite herself, knowing too well that she was lying.

Bucky finally let her arms go after her confirmation. He knew that if he tried to hold her back now she would only end up hating him. He would rather have her leave him than hate him. He wouldn’t be able to take it.

“I’ll tell the driver to get the car ready so he could take you to your grandma’s,” Bucky told her without looking up, wiping away his tears. For now.

She didn’t reply, and only continued shoving clothes into the bag.

“I just want you to know that I’ll always be here whenever you need me. I will always be yours, angel. Even if you’re no longer mine. I love you and I will love you until the day I die.”

But all of this was nothing compared to the fear that shot up her spine when she heard gunshots making contact with the car she was inside, forcing the driver to stop abruptly.

Bucky’s last words had her sobbing even harder as she fell to her knees the moment he left her alone in the room.

She didn’t want to leave him and she never saw a day like this one coming, but she knew it was only right that she did. They were different from the beginning and she was wrong to let herself live in a daydream for too long. She had no place in Bucky’s world.

~

The drive back to her grandma’s house was torture. The pain of being fooled could only be overruled by the pain of fearing the only man she’s ever loved. She couldn’t ignore the feeling that she was leaving a piece of her behind in the mansion that the car just drove away from. She knew that piece was her heart and she knew that she was most likely never going to get it back. It will forever remain with Bucky.

Her tears kept coming as she silently wept in the backseat.

Pathetic fallacy was at its highest and the skies were sobbing with her. It was cold and the roads were muddy, thunder hitting every now and then, making trees shudder where they were rooted.

She cried more knowing Bucky would no longer be there to hold her through thunderstorms.

The man and the guard next to him got out their own guns but it was too late for them to do anything as another couple of bullets were shot, going right through their heads. The driver fell lifeless, face first on the driving wheel and she felt her heart stop with his.

“Let me go for your own good,” she said, trying to keep her tone confident and her pain veiled.

Before she could even think of a route to run in, a bag was put over her head, her screams futile as she got violently dragged to another vehicle before it all went completely dark with a hit to the back of her head.

~

“I thought we were past that shit, babygirl. Three days didn’t teach you who’s in charge yet?” Lloyd Hansen, Bucky’s biggest enemy, asked her with a provocative smile.

She was in absolute agony.

She let oud a loud, pained scream, desperately trying to pull her arm from underneath his huge shoe.

They’d untied her an hour ago after she claimed she needed the bathroom, a guard on her tail as he led her through the abandoned building.

Once inside the toilet, she managed to pick up the upper part of the toilet seat. She gained the guard’s attention with a scream, going down on his head with the heavy ceramic piece as soon as he opened the door to check on her.

She managed to run as far as the hallway of the floor she was in before a very angry Lloyd grabbed her. She surprised him with a harsh slap across the face, taking the chance to run again when he froze for a second.

Lloyd got even angrier, stretching his leg and knocking one of her feet off the ground, making her fall over. He walked over her crawling body and evilly stepped on her right wrist.

“I can’t wait to kill you,” Lloyd said, not taking his foot off before he heard a snap and a loud screech from her.

Lloyd got hold of her hair, dragging her all the way back to the room where she was previously tied up.

He tied her to the same chair again, only this time one arm got the ropes while the other was left to redden and swell.

Now she was here, on the same chair, throwing empty threats as she’s almost given up hope that Bucky might find her.

“Aww, did you hear that, boys? Little slut right here is worried for our good,” Lloyd mocked her, laughter erupting and filling the room in response.

“You’re not getting out of here, babygirl,” he spat, his voice laced with venom, “this is where you die.”

“Let me go. I won’t say it again.” Her voice almost shivered with her heart at the end of her warning.

She was scared, and in so much pain, but she couldn’t let it show. She wouldn't even cry and was sweating like crazy from the ache in her dangling wrist. She was Bucky Barnes’ girl.

“You’re making the demands now? Not even a “please” to persuade me?” Lloyd moved his face closer to hers, slowly pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear with a smirk, “or do I have to heat you a bottle to get to meet your polite side?”

She felt her face go hot as her eyes filled with tears and she couldn’t stop herself from spitting in the bastard’s face, “fuck you”.

Next thing she knew was his rough hand slapping down hard on her cheek, making her go dizzy. Blood trickled out of her nose and down to her lips right after and she couldn’t hold back her tears this time.

She was tired. Terrified. She needed Bucky.

“Your filthy mouth isn’t anything short of your boyfriend’s, but don’t worry, if you don’t know how to be respectful to your masters I have ways to teach you, and believe me, I can’t wait to start your lessons.” Hansen smirked at her wrist before spitting back at her and leaving with everyone else.

She cried harder than she has ever before, tears and blood mixing. Her body was shivering and her arms aching from being tied up in the most uncomfortable position and smashed down under Lloyd’s boot.

There was no way out for here, was there?

She knew she was done for and she didn’t have any last wishes except for getting to tell Bucky that she loved him and that she will never stop loving him one last time.

She couldn’t even pay her pain or blood any attention when all she could think about was Bucky and how he would have never let anything like that happen to her.

She remembered his soft smile that only she got to meet. The way he’d lean forward to engulf her in a hug momentarily warmed her before the iciness of the empty room made her shiver again.

She didn’t dare linger on Bucky, however.

It’s been exactly 3 days and 21 hours since his angel left him and he still couldn’t believe it.

She left him. She left and now she was here in some old factory under some asshole’s mercy. She couldn’t escape the situation she was in no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t give her mind any kind of relief. There was none. Before she realized, her head was falling forward and she was getting a temporary break from reality.

~

“Bucky, are you o—” Sam cut himself off when his sight landed on his best friend’s face.

Bucky’s eyes were red with yet to be shed tears, again.

His car never reached her grandma’s because his men were murdered on the way. His angel was no where to be found and neither was Bucky’s will to live.

He kept telling himself that it wasn’t true, that she was at work; that she would eventually come back and sleep in his arms again.

However, she didn’t even call. Didn’t even look at his multiple texts. She really was missing and Bucky couldn’t face it. Between denial and heart wrenching pain, he buried himself 9 feet under.

He’s looked everywhere, asked everyone, but still couldn’t find her. It was as if she’s disappeared, turned to air.

Bucky has deserted their bedroom ever since she walked out of the mansion, the bed still as messy as she left it after she dragged the sheets down with her packed bag. Every time Bucky would enter the room he would see her leaving him, so he’d stopped. That couldn’t be his last memory of her. He slept on the couch in his office now, if at all.

And soon enough, the Bucky he used to be when she was around was dead and another angrier, more violent and very impatient Bucky had replaced him. He was always mad, at everyone and everything. And he was drinking every night, sitting on his bar for as long as he could, just to get himself hammered enough to fall in a deep unconsciousness where he didn’t have her scared eyes invading his dreams.

Sam was seriously worried for him, but there was nothing he could do; no advice he could offer. Nothing would bring that Bucky back as long as his angel was gone.

Bucky’s wallowing and Sam’s overthinking were interrupted when Bucky’s phone rang, vibrating on the ceramic floor. Bucky quickly crawled over to it, hardly believing his eyes when he saw her name in the place of the caller ID.

“Angeră?” he answered, his voice hoarse from staying silent for too long.

“Awww, you call her angel?” the voice on the other side mocked.

“Who the fuck is this?” Bucky asked, standing up slowly as his anger and worry forced him to sober up.

“You know too damn well who this is,” Lloyd answered, his smile evident in his tone as he knew he had Bucky by the throat.

“Where is she?” Bucky asked immediately.

“Tied up somewhere cold.”

“I swear on my life, if you touch her—”

“Relax, she can take a few scratches,” he replied, chuckling as if it was a joke.

“You son of a bitch!” Bucky shouted, losing his mind at the mere image of his angel being hurt.

“I’d watch my mouth if I were you, Barnes,” he snarled confidently.

“What do you want?” Bucky asked through his teeth, just wanting to get to his girl as quickly as possible.

“Let me hear her voice.”

“No,” Lloyd chuckled.

“I wanna destroy you.” Hansen laughed.

“Let her go. She has nothing to do with this.” Bucky tried his best not to sound desperate but it was obvious that he was begging for his girl’s safety.

“That’s where you’re wrong, B. She has everything to do with this.” Lloyd walked into the room where she was with a smug smile.

“Let her go.” please

“If you sound so distraught just because I’d hogged her for a couple of days, imagine how you’ll be when I erase her off the face of the earth,” Hansen said, laughing at the thought of hurting Bucky this bad.

Her face toughened up at the realization that it was Bucky on the phone.

“If you do as much as touch a hair on her head, I’m gonna kill you and everyone you know,” Bucky promised, his heart hammering in his chest as he hastily started moving.

“I might’ve broken a bone or two, but that’s only because she was a bad girl.”

“You’re dead, Hansen. Fucking dead!” Bucky promised, throwing the bottle he was drinking from across the room.

“We’ll be waiting with popcorn.” He hung up on Bucky, laughing.

“He’s gonna kill you.” She smiled once he hung up, making Lloyd grab her hair.

She hissed, trying not to show she was in pain.

“Not if I kill him first, angeră.” Lloyd spat, throwing her head forward before leaving the room.

She was horrified at the thought of anything bad happening to Bucky, but she willed her heart to trust in him. She had no time to ponder but she was actually proud of the fact that Bucky could so easily end this awful, evil man and she couldn’t wait for him to do just that.

Still, she waited for him. Something inside of her told her Bucky would never abandon her, not even to death. So she waited. Waited with the longing of all the lovers that ever were until longing had exhausted her.

~

It was like a slow motion dream. Doors being kicked down, guns being fired and her Bucky entering the room with a man’s body held in his left fist by the neck.

Instead, Bucky found Hansen and smacked him so hard with his metal hand that a tooth flew out. He slapped him again and his nose was bleeding. They made eye contact one more time and she noticed the difference for the first time. That wasn’t Bucky. It wasn’t her Bucky. His eyes still softened for her but the hint of revenge in them was more dominant.

He doesn’t even talk; doesn’t negotiate. He doesn’t even ask for her to be released. He doesn’t need to.

His men were getting everything done. His only mission was to look for her now. His eyes met hers but he didn’t start walking towards her like she’d expected he would.

She thought she would be afraid meeting Bucky again after what she’d witnessed him do, but she actually didn’t. Not even a tiny bit.

She was rather happy, the feeling that she was safe again warming up her body so much that she’d started sobbing.

It was like no matter how long they were away from each other, they were still together, never estranged from one another.

Bucky was on his 40th slap/punch on the man’s bloody face when he noticed her crying. He temporarily threw the man’s tired body on the ground and rushed to his girl.

He kneeled before her shaking body, wanting nothing but to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

And she was.

She looked up and could still see the coldness in his eyes despite hers being blurred by tears.

“I missed you. Is my Bucky okay?” She asked, her voice drained but not scared like Bucky had feared and expected.

“Let’s get you home, angeră,” he replied, saving his answer for now as he noticed the finger marks on her cheek.

She nodded desperately, her tied hand reaching for him despite being behind her back.

“Stop right there,” Lloyd said, crocking his gun at Bucky.

“Bucky,” she whimpered, eyes glued to her man, her anchor.

“E în regulă, angera meu, (it’s okay, my angel)" Bucky replied, getting closer to her and sticking to her side.

“No, it’s not. He’s lying to you. Just like he’s lied to you about everything else,” the man chuckled.

“Shut up,” she whispered, trying to calm down her breathing.

“Give it up, Hansen. I beat you. Again and for the last time. You’re done.” Bucky racked the slide of his gun.

“He never loved you. Do you even know who he is most of the time?” Lloyd continued, not willing to give up until Bucky was reduced to nothing before him.

“Shut up,” she repeated, wishing her hands were free so that she could cover her ears with them.

“Do you have any idea about the other side of this man you gave yourself to you poor little thin—”

“Shut up!” She shouted with all her might, “don’t speak about him like that.”

“Do you even know what you’re defending?” Hansen yelled at her with a crazy, bloody smile on his face.

“I know,” she answered calmly, “I know everything.”

Bucky looked at her in surprise, not believing what he just heard. There was no way she knew. How would she know? How would she choose to stay if she actually knew?

“Oh so you know about frosty over here?” Hansen smirked, pointing to his head.

“That’s enough, Hansen,” Bucky warned, barely controlling himself.

“I do,” she answered once more, her answer shocking Bucky yet again.

“Angel?”

“It’s okay, Bucky. I promise.” She sincerely promised, making it hard for Bucky not to tear up in the middle of the room.

“Aww, how sweet—” Hansen cooed and in a second 3 of Bucky’s bullets were in his head, neck and chest before he could say anything else.

She gasped, closing her eyes and turning her face away from the body as it collapsed on the floor with a thud.

She didn’t notice that Hansen had landed a shot at Bucky before he collapsed and Bucky didn’t even flinch as a bullet literally made it through his right shoulder. He didn’t feel the pain. He didn’t care about anything but his angel.

She was the only thing he could see and hear. Her wounds were his pain more than his own.

Bucky wordlessly kneeled down and untied her quickly. His gaze was glued to her wrists for a second before he rubbed the one that wasn’t swollen with his smoother thumb.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, referring to her other wrist.

“I'm gonna need a doctor to look at it.” Was all she gave him for an answer.

He silently opened his arms for her and she threw herself in them without an ounce of hesitation, crying more now that she was home.

She was so scared she wouldn’t get to feel like this again. She let herself let go. She then closed her eyes and finally succumbed to the cozy darkness now that she was safe.

Instead, Roseanne looked at her with a teary smile, “welcome back, miss.”

She lost all sense of consciousness that she didn’t hear Bucky shoot the man’s dead body a fourth and a fifth time with her in his arms as he took another look at her wrists.

~

When she opened her eyes again, she was back in Bucky’s bed, but Bucky wasn’t by her side.

“Roseanne, I missed you so much,” she replied, unable to stop her own tears.

“Thank goodness you’re okay,” Roseanne said, breaking the hug to let her rest her back.

She invited Roseanne for a hug with her good arm as she noticed the other was in what looked like a cast.

Lloyd had broken her wrist.

“Mr. Barnes is in his office,” she told her while adjusting the pillow behind her when she noticed her eyes roaming the spacious room.

“Is he mad?” she asked, more tears gathering in her tired eyes.

“At himself, maybe.” Roseanne shrugged politely.

“Please help me go to him, Roseanne.”

“One more thing though.” Roseanne chew on her lip.

“What’s wrong?”

He didn’t know what he would’ve done with himself if something had happened to her and he kept blaming himself as he sat there with his right arm in a sling.

“Mr. Barnes has been shot.”

~

Bucky didn’t care to look when the door to his office opened, not knowing that she was awake and too busy wiping his tears of regret.

He’s been like this since he got her home and in his bed again. His tears were unstoppable now that he saw the results of his lifestyle on the one girl he chose and held closest to his heart. In fact, he cried more every time he took a look at her angelic figure tiredly sleeping in his large bed as the doctor patched up her broken wrist.

She was so small, so pure and so so good for this world. Her face was fainter and the spark was gone and he was sure Lloyd didn’t feed her. The fading finger marks she had on her cheek, the rope burns around her wrists and ankles and the cast around her forearm slashed new wounds at his heart.

“Bucky,” she called out faintly, her head and body still aching a little, heart dropping when she saw him with his arm hanging, “are you okay?”

He stood up and helped her sit in his chair, not sure if it was okay for him to carry her and sit her on his desk like he usually would.

He hastily wiped his eyes with his hand to look at his baby.

“Hi, angel,” he tried to say with a smile but his voice cracked as another tear escaped down his red cheek.

She surprised him by using his chair as a step to get on top of his desk, pointing to the chair for him to sit back down.

Bucky was on eye level with the marks on her ankles as she settled her bare feet on his lap.

What was he going to say now that she was awake? And most importantly, what was she going to say?

“My Bucky,” she could recognize the difference between this man and the man who started her rescue right away.

Bucky was stunned to see she could see it despite everything. He didn’t want her to ever find out about that side of him and it killed him even more that she caught the difference. How on earth did she find something like this out?

“All yours, angel.” He tried to compose himself, for her.

She couldn’t bare seeing him like this. It was like she’s forgotten about everything that happened before this very moment and all she could do was sit up and hold his face to lovingly wipe his sorrows away with her left hand.

It was enough time away from Bucky.

“I’m okay, Bucky. I’m okay,” she tried to reassure him, only making him cry harder as the dam broke when she rubbed his shoulder.

“Iarta-ma, iubita mea. Te rog. Iarta-ma. (forgive me, my love. Please, forgive me)" He sobbed, moving his lips to the palms of her hands to leave wet kisses all over the reddened skin.

“I’m okay, I swear,” she repeated, not knowing what to do or say.

“I forgive you. Please don’t cry; we’re good,” she said it to him in the kindest tone like it was the easiest thing to say.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you give me the chance to. Please, love,” Bucky cried like a child in her lap.

No, he couldn’t even remember a time when he cried like this as a child despite all that he’d gone through. He didn’t care though. He was going to do whatever it took for his angel’s forgiveness. He disappointed her, broke her heart and risked her life. Bucky was going to beg until the end of time if he could.

Bucky shook his head, crying harder, “no, you’re good. You’re too good to me, angel. Too good. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you. Never did.”

It sent a knife to his heart that she still sincerely called him her Bucky after everything she’s been through just because he was in her life; because he was selfish enough to bring her into his without a care.

He was still beating himself up over it. And how could he not when everything terrible that’s ever happened to her had happened because of him? He traumatized her more than anyone ever could have and he’s gotten her hurt time and time again.

This girl who’s made him feel like he could stand against the whole world all by himself with no fear just because she called him her lover. This girl who taught him loyalty, kindness and love and was now teaching him forgiveness. This girl was sitting before him with a broken wrist and heart telling him not to worry about it.

“Don’t say that, please. I’m alive right now thanks to you, my Bucky.” Her own tears rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them.

She loved him more than anything and wished she could make him see that. Oh how she was dying to make him see how safe and loved he made her feel.

“You mean you were taken and hurt thanks to me.” Bucky casted his eyes down, too ashamed to even look at her marked face.

“Bucky—”

“I get it if you still wanna leave me. And I will let you. I would never make you do anything you don't want. I just want you to know that I never lied to you about my love for you. You’ve been and still are the realist thing in my life, angel. Everything I said and did was true. I adore you.”

“Bucky, I—”

“I know it’s selfish to choose to speak about this now, but I’m afraid you’d leave before I get to tell you how in love with you I really am,” he sniffled, wiping his eyes again in vain before looking up at her, “I would die without you. Your love owns me, heart and soul. But.. if leaving me is what you choose.. and if leaving me will make you safe, I will accept it. I just need you to know that I’ve never lied to you. Angel, you are my whole life. You’re my one and only. I belong to you. I’m yours and I will die yours.”

She was speechless, too taken aback to stop herself from crying harder. Bucky’s never opened up to her about his feelings before. Not like this.

“Bucky, I love you,” she managed to whisper before he cut her off again. Before she could tell him that she felt the same way, that she was all his and will forever be his, that only him ruled over her heart.

“You don’t have to say that, angel—”

“Let me speak,” she demanded, her palm cupping his wet cheek as she grabbed him a tissue from his desk.

He nodded, biting his lip and bracing himself for the harshest ‘but’, preparing to get his heart ripped out of his chest.

“I don’t wanna leave you,” was the first thing she could get herself to say, desperately wanting to soothe his thumping heart.

Bucky’s eyes filled with more tears because he knew he didn’t deserve her.

“I forgive you. I want to tolerate this dangerous life because it lets me have you; be with you, which is the only place I ever wanna be.” She took a deep breath, her own tears continuing to fall as she wiped his.

“Baby,” Bucky whispers, hating to see her tears yet again.

“I knew you weren’t the nicest guy to others and I knew your line of business wasn’t the safest either. I just— it freaked me out when I actually got to see you inside of it. I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

Bucky lowered his head in shame again.

“In my head, especially when little, you’re incapable of hurting. In my eyes, you’re safety, Bucky. You’re home.” She brought his eyes back to hers with a hand on his cheek.

“I’m sorry, love,” Bucky was quick to apologize but she shook her head in reply.

“It might take me some time to get used to everything now that I know everything. But it didn’t affect my love for you, Bucky. Not one bit. I lied. I was so scared I would die without getting to tell you that. I still loved you more than ever even in that moment with your fist against another man’s cheek, and I guess that scared me even more. Because it was unlike the me I thought I knew. But this me, right here, is madly in love with you and she doesn’t care about anything other than being by your side for ever.”

“Angel,” Bucky sobbed, holding her hand to his lips, leaving appreciative, wet kisses on her palm, “you won’t regret it, baby, I promise. This is the last time you get hurt. I would die before I let anything like this ever happen to you again.”

“I know, and I trust you, my Bucky. If you’d give me time and if you’ll have me, I wanna be with you every moment of my life, forever.” She couldn’t not throw herself inside his arms, needing the closeness to reassure her this was real.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, holding her on his lap as tight as he possibly could.

“Lucky me,” she whispered in his shoulder.

Bucky felt himself coming alive again at the smell of jasmines in her hair and the feel of her warm body in his hold. She was a piece missing from him and now that she was back, he wasn’t going to waste a second without worshiping the steps she walked.

“I know I might need a while, but that doesn’t change anything. I still love you with my whole heart, Bucky,” she reassured, squeezing him to her even more.

“Take all the time you need, angel. I’ll be right here. I’ll wait forever if I have to.”

“Promise me something though.”

“Anything.”

“No more killing people on my behalf.”

“What if they have a gun pointed at you?”

“Okay, only in that case then because it’s self-defense.”

“I promise.” Bucky smiled, sliding her hair behind her ear before kissing her forehead.

She pressed her forehead to his with a smile, “thank you.”

“We’re injury buddies now,” she joked when they pull away making Bucky laugh out loud for the first time in days.

“Does it hurt, angel?”

"Mine doesn't hurt, you?" He kissed her covered wrist gently.

"Does it hurt?"

They both asked at the same time, making each other laugh.

“Not as much anymore,” she replies, not wanting to remember how much it hurt when she was tied up in the cold room.

“Let’s eat so you could take your pain meds.” Bucky offered her his metal hand and she took it with her good one with a content smile.

~

Everything was going to be okay again. She knew it. Her hand was back in Bucky's and there was nothing their love wouldn't be able to pass. This might not be the Bucky she got in a relationship with, but it was the Bucky she wanted and was going to continue it with.

He was still and was always going to be her bucky.

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[wntrs0ldier]

AN OFFER II · 04

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3,4k warnings: mafia, language, violence, mature themes, dark themes, smut, punishing, spanking, edging, toxic behavior,

Bucky brought his hand up to your face. “You know I won’t hurt you,” he said. His hand slid a little lower; it gripped your jaw, and his fingers dug almost painfully into your cheeks. “But,” he licked his lips, shrugging, “you lied to me. And you won't get away with it.”

series masterlist

The situation you got yourself into was strikingly similar to your last date with John Walker — you were sitting in a fancy restaurant, trying not to show how much you needed some man's favor. There were also a few differences; seated in front of you was not John, but Adrian Lancy, it was not about a marriage proposal and your future, but the future of your gallery, and most importantly, Bucky had no idea about any of this. Although, he knew you were going out — he would have noticed your disappearance anyway — but you told him you were having dinner with Connie. You didn't think Bucky would want to make sure that was really the case, but you preferred to be safe than sorry, and asked your friend to lie if necessary. Connie didn't even think about it; she agreed before you finished your sentence.

Earlier, you didn't see Adrian as a threat — he didn't seem like someone who would go too far to get his way. Nevertheless, you were all smiles between the meals. Why? Because facing the fact that you had a husband, rather than just imagining it, caused some unexplained change in him, and from a sensible young man you were pinning your hopes on, he became someone gripped by a obsession; his propositions for meetings sounded a little more aggressive, lost their previous lightness, and you eventually grew afraid. Not about yourself — whenever the ring on your finger entered your field of vision, you forgot about any fear. It seemed to you that no one could hurt you, not when you bore the name of Barnes. 

But the gallery was different.

“I'm going to Paris soon,” Adrian began. “On business, of course, not for pleasure,” he added, as if you were to take him for a man who has nothing to do but travel. 

“Mhmm.”

“I thought you could come with me,” he continued. Surprised by the processes that must have occurred in his mind, you raised your eyebrows. “You know about art,” he hurried to clarify, “and I'd love to buy some pieces for my new apartment. I will pay you for this service.”

“You know that there are people you can actually hire for this. People you won't spend that much on.” You tilted your head to the side, watching him carefully. “Because I am expensive. Very expensive,” you said, hoping to discourage him. 

“I want you.”

“Adrian…” you sighed. “I can't come to Paris with you just like that.” 

Not hiding his disappointment, he pressed his lips tightly together. “Well,” he shrugged casually, “if you don't go with me, you won't see any more of my money. And I'll make sure that no one will ever invest in you again. In short, I will destroy you, Y/N. So you'd better think it over and give me an answer by the end of the week.”

Refusing to let any negative expression cast a shadow on your face, you watched him. You couldn't give him the satisfaction, even if, when agreeing to this meeting, you didn't expect it to turn out this way. The change you feared earlier had just taken a full turn — much faster than you thought. “Sure.” You forced a sweet smile. “I’ll think about it.”

A waiter appeared at the table. At first you thought it was just a routine check; that he was making sure you weren't missing anything. Only after you gave him a little more conscious attention did you notice a bottle of wine in his hands. A very expensive bottle. As if Adrian wanted to let you know that he had the resources you needed, and that he was spending his fortune on something as unnecessary as wine, which was only meant to impress.

But Adrian seemed confused, too. “There must be some mistake. I didn’t order any wine.” 

“I was told it is from Mr. Barnes.”You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling an unpleasant warmth spilling all over your stomach. You stared at the bottle in a stupor. So he knew — Bucky knew very well where you were, which meant he also knew who you were with.

You weren't sure how long you had been standing in front of the door to your apartment, but eventually realized that such behavior qualified as absurd — the accompanying fear, that you had been convinced you lacked only a few hours earlier, was undoubtedly irrational. Or at least that's what you had to trick yourself into thinking in order to finally grab the door handle. 

You hung up your purse on a hanger and slipped the high heels off your feet. You were able to name at least five much scarier situations that had occurred in your entire life, yet you couldn't recall the last time you felt this kind of anxiety. You didn't even understand where it was coming from; after all, Bucky cared about you; he couldn't harm you. 

When you turned around, ready to go deeper into the apartment, Bucky was standing at the end of the hall, right by the exit. His damp hair, loose t-shirt and sweatpants, fresh wounds on his knuckles indicated that he must have been after training with Steve. You swallowed hard at the thought that Bucky, having found out where and with whom you were actually spending time, needed to beat something, in this case, fortunately, a punching bag.

“Was it good?” Bucky asked, approaching you slowly. “The wine,” he clarified. Without taking your eyes off him, you nodded cautiously, causing him to squint. “What is it?” His mouth curved into a playful smirk. “You’re not scared, are you?” 

“I can’t really tell…”

Bucky brought his hand up to your face. “You know I won’t hurt you,” he said. His hand slid a little lower; it gripped your jaw, and his fingers dug almost painfully into your cheeks. “But,” he licked his lips, shrugging, “you lied to me. And you won't get away with it.”

You gawked at him — at the stern expression on his face, at his darkened eyes and reddened, slightly parted mouth. Whatever he intended, you could feel yourself getting wet.

He grabbed your wrist; it ached from the power of the pressure Bucky wielded, but the feeling only intensified the sensation. He dragged you behind him, and you almost tripped over your own feet — he wasn't walking that fast; it was your limbs that seemed frail and numb. 

“Bed,” Bucky commanded as soon as you reached the bedroom. Massaging your sore wrist by instinct, you went in that direction, your steps wobbly. You settled on the middle of the mattress. Bucky came closer. “Turn around.” 

Captivated by his massive, heavy frame, under which you hoped you were about to end up, fascinated by the calmness and dominance he radiated, you couldn’t stop looking at him. 

“Turn around,” he said again, much slower than before. “I’m not gonna ask you again.” 

Your mouth went dry. Finally obeying his order — not in fear of the consequences, but looking forward to further development of the situation — you turned around. Bucky placed his hand between your shoulder blades and with pressure forced you to lean forward; so you landed on your knees, additionally supporting your hands on the mattress. 

He lifted your dress above your hips, a quiet snort escaped his mouth. “You fucking kidding me?” Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly, shaking his head, hooking his fingers under the hems of the lace pants you were wearing. He pulled the material lower, completely exposing your ass, sending a wave of heat over your entire body. 

You got up one knee first, then the other, making it easier for Bucky to strip you of your underwear. Then, he grabbed a piece of your dress and pulled you to him; as your hands detached from the mattress, he reached for them and tied tightly with your pants. The fabric, digging into your wrists, turned out to give you a surprising amount of pleasure.

Bucky pushed you forward again, this time far harder. Deprived of the possibility to support yourself, the front of your body fell on the bed, while your ass still remained up. All you could do was turn your head to the side — other than that, you were completely helpless, dependent on his mercy.

It seemed, however, that he didn't have any for you. You realized this when you felt a sharp, piercing pain, accompanied by a loud clap — Bucky’s hand landed on your ass cheek, and it landed hard. Shocked by this new and unfamiliar sensation, you shouted, your eyes filled with tears. 

Bucky spanked you again. Your body trembled, and only a muffled gasp came out of your mouth this time. 

Another slap — you felt your skin burning and stinging in that spot, getting more and more tender; you were painfully aware of this as his hand, once again, smacked your ass rapidly. You moaned, your back arching, your pussy almost dripping, asking to be filled. But that sweet torture was nearly as good. 

“More?” he rasped, breathing heavily. You weren't sure how to respond; he was punishing you, so if you asked for more, would he actually give you what you wanted? And if you refused, would he stop? 

“Y/N,” Bucky pressed. 

“More,” you replied quickly, your voice weak. 

“More what?”

At that moment, your mind wasn't in the best place for the logical, coherent sentences he always expected from you. “I want you to spank me more. Please,” you exhaled.

“You don’t wanna talk, so I’ll make you use your words. Make that pretty mouth of yours work.” 

Bucky fulfilled your request, and you almost jumped up on the mattress, clamped your eyelids shut and let out a loud whine — that one was definitely stronger than the others, causing goosebumps all over your heated body. 

The bed sunk behind you, signaling his arrival. The t-shirt he had thrown off landed silently somewhere on the floor. Your lips parted, releasing a long moan as the tip of his cock brushed hard against your wet, throbbing cunt. He buried into your core painfully slowly and lazily; you felt his hardness spreading inside you, filling all the space you could give him. 

Bucky clenched his hands on your hips and began to thrust into you. The pain radiating from your cheeks mixed with the surging pleasure, creating a combination you could quickly become addicted to. Gasping loudly, he pounded into you again and again; immediately he reached to your head, slipped his fingers into your hair and tightened them there. He turned your head to the side so he could see at least part of your face — the changes taking place on it. He wanted to control your pleasure. Because as you, stimulated by spanking and waiting, began to get closer to an orgasm faster than you could expect, Bucky suddenly stopped. He slid out, leaving behind only emptiness and a devastating lack of satisfaction.

“Jamie, please-” you choked out. 

“Don’t Jamie me,” Bucky replied sternly. He leaned forward, putting the weight of his body on yours. He pulled your head slightly away from the mattress, his mouth hanging right next to your ear. “You lied to me today, Y/N.”

You nodded immediately, ready to agree to everything he wanted. 

“You know that what you did was wrong? Hmm?”

“Yes. Yes, I know. And I'm sorry.”

“I don't want your sorry. I want you to never lie to me again. You are my wife and I won't have it, do you understand?” he said, the words seeping out through his teeth. 

“I understand, but please-”

Bucky clenched his fingers harder in your hair. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“You promise what, Y/N?” he inquired impatiently, although at that moment it seemed like he had all the time in the world.

Taking another deep breath, you gathered the strength and all the concentration you had in you to say those few words he cared so much about. “I-I promise to never lie to you again.”

Bucky moved slightly away, left a kiss on the nape of your neck, then straightened up. He entered you again, and again you felt that blissful fullness. At first you got the impression that he was still fucking some discipline into you, but the rising sensations made you think that he was actually rewarding you for understanding your mistake and promising to do better.

In that position — with your hips up — his dick quickly found the right spot and hit exactly where it needed to. Wet, well lubricated with all your juices, it was sliding in and out smoothly, bringing you more rapture than you could beg for. With loud, desperate cries, you were praying to your god, taking his name in vain — the one who was just fucking you senseless. Because Bucky couldn’t be just a human; he was too perfect, too beautiful, too merciful as he forgave your sins. 

You clenched around his cock, your eyes rolled back as consciousness left your mind. Apart from the overwhelming release, you also felt Bucky's load spilling into you; he, too — with a few last thrusts — let out a few whimpers, crowned by a throaty growl, and his body slumped against yours. His chest, pressed to your back, rose and fell as he tried to normalize his breathing. He pulled away from you to free your wrists as quickly as possible; your hands dropped lifelessly, too weak and too useless.

“Let’s clean you up, hmm?” Bucky suggested; surprisingly gently for the man he was just a moment ago. 

“I want to stay here,” you muttered with half of your face still in the bed sheets. Once again you felt his body pressing against yours as laid a tender kiss behind your ear.

You woke up to an empty bed. 

Your sore body covered with a blanket, the curtains closed. The watch on the nightstand said four in the morning. 

The urgent need to use the toilet dissuaded you from further sleep. You didn't feel fully awake until you were in the shower — as the warm water washed over your body, you wondered where Bucky had gone at such an early hour. You hoped that three months of hard work in Italy would give him some more space here in New York.

You got out of the shower, removed the remnants of your makeup, brushed your teeth, then returned to the bedroom. Curiosity was stronger than tiredness, besides, you felt rested enough, maybe even too awake for any more sleep. You put on one of Bucky's t-shirts, rummaged from his side of the closet, and left the room. You didn't have to search for long — the warm glow pouring out of the living room immediately caught your attention.

Bucky was sitting on the couch — under the light of the lamp standing over him, he was looking through some papers scattered on the coffee table. Full concentration on his face, marked by a deep wrinkle between his brows.

“What are you doing?” you spoke. 

He glanced up at the sound of your voice. “Checking the account statements from Sapphire Dune and Marble Aurora.” Rubbing his eye, Bucky sighed with clear tiredness. 

Your forehead creased as the names of your father’s casinos rang in your ears. You haven't thought about them once lately, so you wouldn't expect it from Bucky either. On the other hand, your Family's affairs were now his concern. 

With your arms folded across your chest, you walked closer to the couch and peeked at the documents. “Something wrong with them..?”

“No,” he assured, smiling softly. “They’re doing really… decently.” 

“So maybe I should stick to them…” you murmured. 

Bucky raised his eyebrows, watching you with a surprise. He reached out his hand to you in an inviting gesture. You took it and sat down right next to him; so close that your thighs touched. He didn’t say a word, waiting for you to tell him everything that was bothering you.

“I lied to you earlier too,” you confessed. “I lied that I don’t need money. And it’s not like I have to close the gallery in a week or something, but…” You gasped. “Some funding is always useful. And Adrian seemed like the perfect sponsor until-” you hesitated, shrugging. “But now he is acting weirder than ever and-”

“Did he do something to you?” Bucky asked right away, interrupting you.

“No, he didn’t,” you protested. “A couple hours ago, he offered me a trip to Paris,” you began, and Bucky’s forehead furrowed at those words. “He said no one will ever invest in the gallery again if I turn him down. And I can't afford it, I can't ask for your money, because I want to make money, not take it out of the house-”

“Y/N, you make money,” Bucky claimed, demonstratively lifting one of the papers. “It's all here,” he added, his brows drew together. “Besides, is using my — our — money really worse than selling your time to this fucking creep?” 

Feeling more and more resigned, you let out a heavy breath. “Bucky…”

“You don't like him, you don't feel comfortable around him, the business isn't going as you would like it to. Or am I wrong?” He was looking at you expectantly, although he didn't actually need any confirmation — he saw the answer written all over your face. He touched your cheeks, his fingers spread on your skin, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones. “You are my wife, and it is my job to take care of you. You have to let me do exactly that, Y/N.” 

Staring relentlessly into his eyes, filled with sincerity and concern, you took his hand off your face and placed a tender kiss inside it, brushing your lips over the scar there; the scar bonding you forever. “Okay,” you whispered. 

You pulled your legs up onto the couch and snuggled into his side. Bucky put his arm around you and rested his cheek on the top of your head. 

A silence settled in, filled only with your peaceful breathing — it didn't bother you or Bucky, since neither of you felt the need to break it. You thought it would be much more difficult; that you would need far more time to get used to him, especially after his last absence. But having a huge couch with plenty of space to occupy, you decided to deprive yourself of whatever space there was.

“Are you going to elaborate, in any way, on what you did to me earlier..?”

“Elaborate…” Bucky repeated. He exhaled, blowing some of the air out of his lungs, then rested his head on the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling for a moment. “I've wanted to do it since that night when I saw you in that little nightgown of yours.” He raised his brow. “And that's about it.” 

You sat up straight, your eyes on Bucky’s face. “That night?” you asked in disbelief. “As a punishment for what?”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “Did it really feel like a punishment to you?” 

Even if you were able to answer him without hesitation, you looked away to think about it. Or pretend to think about it. You bit your lip.

“Did it feel good..?” Bucky inquired, his tone gentle and careful. 

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. Very good,” you said, not sure if you should really admit it. “We can do it more often,” you suggested, and Bucky’s eyebrows rose instantly. Taken slightly aback, he peered at you with sudden liveliness, his eyes sparked with fascination that struck him like a speeding train. “What?” you laughed softly, but then understood something — you always sensed a gentle restraint in him, keeping him in check; the chains holding him down. Now, you were able to hear them break. Was it you who destroyed them? Your innocent permission?

Bucky smirked, shaking his head, letting you know he wasn’t going to be too harsh on you. But as harsh as you’d allow him to be. 

He leaned forward, putting his forearms on his knees, and reached for one of the papers so he could return to analyzing the documents. You clung to his back, placing your chin on his shoulder blade. He immediately located his free hand on your arm, wrapped around his torso. 

“Go back to bed,” he said, his eyes still focused on the statements. 

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No, of course not,” Bucky assured right away, “but aren’t you tired, sunshine?” He turned his head as far as he could to glance at you at least from the corner of his eye. Taking the opportunity, you stretched out further, to reach his face, and planted a few quick but tender pecks on his cheek, making him laugh softly.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

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[stardustdreams-andcaffeine]

More | Bucky Barnes (Mob AU)

mob!bucky barnes x f!reader ✧ oneshot

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

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

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

Word Count: 13,122

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I have to make it. I have to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

|||

2 Years Prior

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who do you think you-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What he says next would change my life forever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And I know when to listen.

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

|||

Seven months later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sure enough, I go home an hour later.

|||

Five months later

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

And how much more he was becoming to me.

"Y/N, can you get me-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can only be broken by things that hold you.

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

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

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

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

I did? What did I try to hide?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How did you know?" I breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

|||

Eleven months later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And here the wolf is himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you okay?" He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

|||

Two weeks later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Bucky, I don't-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

|||

A few days later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The guest list for the gala.

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

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

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

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

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

Lance Salone. Bouncer. Criminal record.

My heart is racing when I search the third.

Amanda Vice. No criminal record.

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

Oh my God.

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

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

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

Alexander Pierce.

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

One I never gave permission to edit the document.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where upstate?"

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

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

"Y/N, are you-"

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

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

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

"Of course."

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

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

"Where to?" The driver asks.

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

"You've reached the voicemail box of-"

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

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

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

There's no response.

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

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

I missed him. He's already gone.

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

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

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

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

I have to make it. I have to.

|||

And here we are, all caught up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N!"

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

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

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

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

Alexander Pierce has me at gun point.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I couldn't let you die."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The King and Queen of crime.

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

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

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

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

[buckyalpine]

Catch Me If You Can 1/3

Mob!Bucky x Single mom police officer Reader 

This is a crack fic, ridiculousness, cuteness, angstttt. 

Warnings: Kidnapping, fluffffff, single mom reader, crappy ex, Mob Bucky is a whole ass warning 

LMK how you feel about these 2 

Part 2

Part 3

-

The plan was simple. Not the most ideal, not the first thing the mob boss would have planned to but desperate times called for desperate measures. He needed this shipment to go through and he was done being patient. 

“We gotta move quick” Bucky murmured, driving slowly behind the target, the dark windows of the SUV making it impossible to see who was inside. As soon as the traffic light turned red, they stopped the truck, swinging the doors open and stepping in front of their mark. 

“Hey! What are you-” 

“Shh, just get in the car” Bucky towered over him, his face stern, cocking an eyebrow at the big eyes that stared up at him. Sam and Steve were by his side with equally stoic expressions, nodding to the open door, their hostage reluctantly getting into the backseat with an annoyed huff. They drove to Bucky’s club, target in tow as they made their way to the office, strange looks exchanged by patrons, looking at Bucky’s latest captive. 

Steve shut the door while Bucky strode across the room to answer a call, breathing a sigh of relief hearing the deal had gone off without a hitch. Nothing had been seized and the deal was set, thanks to his last minute decision. He reached for a crystal decanter, pouring a glass of whiskey for himself when a voice caught his attention. 

“Why am I here” Bucky turned around to face all 4 feet, 2 inches of his hostage, little furrowed brows knitted in the middle, arms crossed with his chest puffed out, a heavy bookbag making his solid stance a little wobbly. “Is this because my mommy wants to put you in jail?” Bucky nearly choked on his whisky while Steve snorted, doing a poor job to mask his laugh. “I can see why. Kidnapping is against the law” 

By this point, both Sam and Steve were nearly on the floor, attempting to keep their stoic expressions on by covering their mouths, covering their laugh with a cough. Bucky raised a brow, not sure if he was insulted or impressed at the sass and lack of fear the 8 year old had. None of them were exactly fans of anything that involved children. It was an unspoken rule; children were always left untouched. He had to break that rule this time though, knowing if things had gone south, it would have led to a gang war which would have been far worse than the stunt he just pulled kidnapping a police offers son. 

Police officer. 

Bucky had most of the justice system and law enforcement at his fingertips, all happily bowing to his bidding, letting his deals and illegal activities slip under the radar. Most were more than happy to comply with what he asked. Most were happy to turn a blind eye. 

Except the departments newest officer. 

The absolute bane of his very existence.

The only person who had actually ever managed to get him arrested though he was quickly released; no one else wanting to get on his bad side by actually pressing charges. 

But you refused to back down.

At first Bucky brushed it off, figuring you’d get with the program and eventually quieten down but no. You were constantly there, making his job more difficult than it had to be, your irritatingly righteous need to keep the city free of gang activity driving him up the wall. 

The last straw was a few weeks ago when he had set up an arms deal with the East side of the city, an exchange of weapons, but more importantly, a possible alliance between groups. Things going successfully would mean more protection for both the North and East and stronger joint front. You had managed to track communication between the groups, readying a team to shut down the exchange, ignoring the warnings you got from the mob boss. 

Bucky was done playing nice. 

It was more than the police just showing up. His power meant everyone listened to him. No one, not even the law disobeyed or strayed from his word. A single officer looking to take him down would have shown weakness; that he didn’t have all the control he should have. Weak links were unacceptable.

Which lead to his plan.

To hold onto your son for awhile so you’d abandon the plan you’d put together, none of your colleagues willing to stop anything on their own, everyone retreating far away from the deal while it took place. 

And it worked. 

He had managed to take your son while he was on his way home from school and you had been informed of his location. Everything else went smoothly; problem solved. Still, nothing prepared him for how unbothered and how at ease his little captive would be. 

“I’m guessing you’re the man mommy calls -” Your son blinked at Bucky, chewing his lips, thinking for a moment before continuing. “She says I can’t use those words. I’m gonna call you Uncle Bucky” He shrugged, plopping onto the chair, grabbing one of Bucky’s fountain pens, proceeding to doodle on a notepad on the desk. 

“You-you can’t-” For the first time in his life Bucky found himself speechless, looking incredulously at the little boy proceed to draw, the mop of dark brown hair on his head, covering his eyes slightly. 

“It’s Mr. Barnes” He muttered, while your son tossed his book bag off to grab a comic book that was inside, drawing a character that was on the cover. 

“It’s Jordan” your son replied, now fully focused on his Batman cartoon. 

“I like this kid” Steve half wheezed while Bucky stared at the little thing in front of him, his lips struggling to stay in a firm line, the corners itching to tug up into a smile. 

“Mommy said you’re a bad man” He piqued, looking at the mob boss from the corner of his eye, “I can’t say you did yourself any favors today Mr. Uncle Bucky” 

Before Steve and Sam could full on belly laugh, your panicked voice carried through the bar, nearing the office. 

“Jordan? Jordan!”  The office doors slammed open to your frantic face, running over to your little one as soon as your eyes landed on him, scooping him in your arms, “Baby, are you okay?”

Bucky felt his heart soften for a moment, watching your heart break and mend itself all at once as soon as you had your son wrapped in your arms again. He shook his head, reminding himself of why he took your son in the first place, ignoring the warmth that was trying to melt his soul. 

“You fu-” You bit your tongue, taking deep breath, keeping in mind there were little ears listening. “How could you?!”

“Had to get a message across doll, you don’t seem to listen” Bucky shrugged while you let out a law growl, hauling your son up and grabbing his school bag, wanting to get him out of there and back home more than anything else. 

“This isn’t over” You shot over your shoulder before leaving the office and exiting the bar. Bucky couldn’t help but smirk slightly, he didn’t like you but he couldn’t help but admire the fiery fearless side of you that never backed down, not even to him. 

“M’sure it isn’t, mama bear” Bucky murmured to himself, inspecting the little doodle your son left behind; an image of Batman and a small Robin. 

Of course you were not able to do anything about the kidnapping; none of the higher ups were willing to put their neck on the line to arrest Bucky and your boss shrugged, giving you a very pointed I told you so look. 

Jordan also seemed unaffected with the whole ordeal, often asking you what Uncle Bucky was up to these days as if he were a colleague from work. Truthfully, you were not even 100% what Bucky had been up to. Things had been suspiciously calm ever since the incident happened and while you were thankful for some peace and quiet, you wondered if he was up to something. 

Nothing was ever quiet with that man. 

Meanwhile you also had other problems to deal with. While work calmed down, your stress was higher than ever looking at the number of missed calls on you phone from Jordan’s father. The very man who decided he wanted nothing to do with either of you the day you found out you were pregnant. The man who promptly kicked you out of the house to fend for yourself. The man who had now decided would be a great time to reenter your sons life and be a stand up father. 

And maybe get some spousal benefits from your job. 

You could never catch a break. 

A few weeks later - Bucky’s office

“You kept this, huh?” Steve picked up the doodle on Bucky’s desk, smiling at the way Bucky’s eyes grew wide before trying to back to his signature frown.  

“Didn’t notice” Bucky lied, though his best friend could see right through him, knowing Bucky didn’t keep just anything on his table, every single item on the desk having a purpose. 

“He kinda reminds me of you” Steve pointed out, thinking back to all the times little Bucky had stood up for him when they were kids, putting on a brave face in front of the meanest. “Kinda looks like you too” 

“Hm” Bucky grunted, wondering himself why he still had the picture. He made a conscious decision not to throw it out; each time he had to write something down, he’d grab a paper below it and carefully put the drawing back on top. Steve was right; Jordan did look like him when he was little and had the same feisty, sassy personality as he did though he was sure the bravery your son had was from you. 

You.

In a strange way, Bucky missed having to deal with your nagging and threats to take him down; business had been quiet so there wasn’t a reason for you to chase after him. You made things interesting; it’s not that he wanted anyone to make his job harder than it had to be but sometimes the challenge was nice. Plus it didn’t hurt that you absolutely gor-

For fucks sake. 

“I need a drink” Bucky shook his head, flicking away the odd feeling he started to feel in his tummy, deciding he needed something stiff over whatever he had stashed in his office. Steve snorted, easily reading his friends thoughts while they made their way to a locked cabinet below the bar counter, fishing for something that would silence unnecessary thoughts. He grabbed a glass, dropping in two ice cubes and filling the glass, taking a long draw of the dark liquid before his attention was pulled elsewhere. 

Bucky’s eyes grew wide seeing the mop of dark hair and big eyes make its way through the crowded bar, customers giving each other strange glances at the little boy with a school bag who had no business being in a gang leaders club.   

“Kid, what are you-

“Mommy’s hurt” Jordan looked up at Bucky with teary eyes, swallowing away the lump that formed in his throat, putting his best brave face on instead, now wasn’t the time to cry. 

“What?”

“She - someone hurt her” 

The thought of someone hurting you sent a surge of anger through Bucky, his jaw clenching as he slammed his glass down. It was ironic, considering the number of times he had wished you would disappear but not like this. Not once had he ever thought of hurting you; at the end of the day, you had always stood for what was right. 

“Where is she” Bucky took Jordan’s hand in his, holding it firmly to ground him while making his way outside and towards the SUV. He didn’t have to even look at Steve to know he was already by his side and sliding into the drivers seat. 

“Home, we live on-”

“I know where you live kid” Bucky chuckled slightly while Steve was already weaving through traffic and pulling up to your street, screeching to a halt in front of your house. 

Bucky helped Jordan hop out of the SUV and lead him to you, the front door left while open with the handle broken off. There were clear signs of a struggle, seeing broken pictures on the floor and a few dents in the walls, the mess continuing all the way up the stairs to your bedroom. Bucky instructed Jordan to wait downstairs with Steve, worried about what condition he was going to find you in. 

You were holding yourself up against the wall, your arm clutching your bloodied side, putting pressure on the gash that sliced you. Your head still throbbing from where you had been hit. You could barely register what was happening, gasping at the sound of Bucky’s voice suddenly in your room. 

“C’mon, doll” His arm snaked around you, pulling you to his, holding up some of your weight. 

“Where are we going” You wanted to fight back but the pain was making you dizzy and spots were starting to cloud your vision. 

“We’re -woah-” Bucky caught you before you slipped, scooping you in his arms, bridal style “We’re going to get you fixed up” He spoke softly, carrying you out of your room and carefully down the stairs towards the SUV. You were in too much pain to protest, slipping in and out of consciousness during the drive over. 

Steve had already slipped Jordan into the front seat, the both of them chatting over who would win in a hotdog eating competition; Superman, Batman or the Joker. He could see Jordan sneak worried glances behind him to look over at you, fidgeting with the straps of his backpack. 

“She’ll be okay” Steve whispered to him, giving him a reassuring smile as he pulled up to the mansion. “Your mama’s strong, y’know she’s the only one Uncle Bucky is scared of” He gave your son a wink before helping him out of the car and opening the door so Bucky could carry you to his room. He carefully set you down on his bed, wasting no time grabbing a first aid kit he kept tucked under the bed for emergencies while you groaned, trying to sit up. 

“Barnes, what are you-”

“Just lie down doll, let me clean this up first” He carefully lifted your blouse to assess how bad the injury was, soaking a cotton ball in some disinfectant.

“Ah!-” You winced, hissing out in pain at the saturated cotton ball Bucky pressed onto your skin, cleaning the area as gently as he could, his focus shifting between getting you better and wondering who did this to you. He’d have to worry about that later. 

“Sorry, sorry” Bucky murmured, gently blowing onto the cleaned area, cooling your skin before grabbing a needle and threat, starting on some sutures to close the gash. “I’ll be quick, just bear with me” You gritted your teeth feeling the needle poke you.

“How-how do you know how to do this” Your voice was strained, struggling to keep it steady while Bucky threaded the needle as gently and quickly as possible, neatly closing off the gash. 

“Gotta know this in my line of work, sugar” He smirked giving you a lopsided grin when you rolled your eyes, squeaking when he gently pushed you back down when you tried to get up. “Rest for a bit” 

You reluctantly laid against the plush mattress looking up at the baby blue eyes softly peering down at you, the same blue eyes your normally wanted to poke out of frustration. 

“I’ll be fine, we can go ho-” You were going to say you could go home but it was clear home wasn’t the safest option, not after what had just happened. 

“C’mon, stay here for the night” He wasn’t exactly going to leave you room to do anything else, there was no way he was going to let you go home after what he had just seen. He was more than happy to sleep in a tent outside of his own home if it meant you’d just stay somewhere safe. “At least for today” 

“I-we can’t-Jordan-” 

“-WOULD LOVE TO STAY HERE” 

Bucky let out a genuine laugh hearing your sons voice carried through the doorway where he was clearly eavesdropping. You snorted, shaking your head and closing your eyes at your sons antics, exhaustion making it hard for you to move anyway. 

“We shouldn’t be here” You whispered, feeling your conscious battle within yourself. You were supposed to be fighting for the right side of the law. Bucky was the opposite of that. Then why didn’t this feel wrong? You’d spent countless hours trying to put him away. So why did you feel so safe? 

“I don’t-

“Just for tonight” Bucky stated softly but firmly, leaving you little room to argue. He grabbed you a tshirt and some joggers of his, letting you clean off and chance while he slipped out of the room. He was met with curious eyes peering up at him, your son patiently waiting to know if you were okay. 

“She’s okay, just getting cleaned up. Let your mama rest” Bucky whispered, leading Jordan to the TV room where Peter was busying himself with video games. “Hey Parker, brought you a worthy opponent” Peter grinned, handing Jordan a controller and shifting over so he could plop down beside him. 

“She’s gonna be okay?” Jordan whispered up at Bucky, feeling a sense of calm around the man his mom usually used no-no words to describe. Surely he couldn’t be that bad? 

“No one’s stronger than your mama” Bucky smiled, ruffling his hair before coming back to check on you. You had slipped back into bed, ignoring the way Bucky’s clothes were soft and comfy to wear, his scent making your insides flutter unnecessarily. 

“Don’t you look cozy, officer” Bucky smirked, sauntering over with a glass of water and pain killers, leaving them on the bedside table for you. You rolled your eyes though gratefully taking 2 tablets for your aching head. 

“Where’s Jordan?” 

“Currently beating everyone’s ass in Mario Kart” 

“This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook Barnes” You tried to keep your voice firm but the playful smirk he was giving you was infectious. You bit your lip to keep your lips from tugging up, choosing to frown more instead but that only seemed to egg him on more. 

“Course, darlin’“ He drawled out, giving you a wink before bidding you good night, “Wouldn’t have it any other way” He turned the light off and gently shut the door, making his way back down to make sure Jordan had something for dinner. 

You pulled the covers up, sighing into the soft plush pillows and sheets, letting sleep take over, ignoring the way your inner conscious continued to debate itself. He didn’t have to help you. Didn’t have to keep you safe. Didn’t have to do any of this and yet here you were. You and your son. Both safe. Because of him. 

Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all...

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club @eralen @perdidosbucky-yyo @clqrosmgc  @buckybarnessweetheart  @pandaxnienke  @manyfandomsfanvergent 

#mob bucky #single mom reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #mafia bucky #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x you #mafia bucky au #mob bucky x freader #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky x you #mob bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky x single mom reader #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #marvel mob au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky imagine #bucky x police officer reader #avengers mob au #bucky fanfic

[generalmoonpolice]

i love you (stuckyxreader)

A/N: Actually my first post so feedback is super welcome. :)

Warnings: angst to fluff, mentions of gunshot, mentions of blood, hospital (i think thats it)

w/c: 554

Fingers gripped my cheeks roughly as I felt my head being lifted onto something warm. Another set of hands pressed into the wound on my stomach which sent copious amounts of pain through my body. I left out a groan in protest and heard my name being called out, though it sounded distant. 

“Y/N?! Baby can you hear me?” 

Even though my eyelids felt like they were glued shut, I forced myself to crack them open slightly, to be met with deep blue eyes that belonged to Steve. Fear, anger and relief were only some of the emotions that swirled in the depths of blue as he stroked my hair softly. It took me a few moments, but from the corner of my eye, my vision picked up on Bucky pressing his hands into my side, trying to stop the blood from leaving my body. It was only then, when I remembered the bullet that had hit me. 

Tears began to fall from my green eyes and my body began to shake as the weight of the scenario hit me. 

I was going to die.

Steve gently brushed the tears away, speaking to me but I couldn’t hear him. It felt like I was underwater. I whispered a soft “I love you” to Steve, watching as his eyes darken and his face filled with rage. My eyes met Bucky’s and I repeated the statement as he began to shake his head. 

Everything slowly started to dim, and I felt hands frantically shake me before the world went dark, the pain vanishing. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The first thing that hit me was the smell. It smelt overly medicinal and sterile. Confusion filled me as I pried my eyes open, wincing at the bright white lights that shined above me. I let out a moan as my body was overwhelmed with pain. The sharp throbbing from my side accompanied with the dull headache made me nauseous. 

Suddenly, Bucky’s face appeared above me, his eyes swimming with concern as squeezed my hand to make sure I was really awake before leaning over and pecking my cheek. 

“How are you feeling, doll?” He asked with a raspy voice. I went to answer him but my throat wouldn’t cooperate, instead sending me into a fit of coughs. Immediately, Bucky lunged forward to grab the water that rested on the small table beside me. He helped me drink some water and I cherished the way the cool liquid ran down my throat, easing the ache. 

“I’m sore.” I merely replied, before looking around the room.

“Where’s Stevie?” I asked the man in front of me. Bucky opened his mouth to answer before the door flung open, making me flinch at the sound. I was met with the sight of Steve looking at me with wide eyes as he quickly made his way over to me. His eyes roamed along my body as if he was expecting to see any new injuries before he pressed a firm kiss to my forehead. 

“I’m—We’re sorry sweetheart.” They said as their heads hung in shame. 

Shaking my head I grabbed each of their hands before pressing a kiss to the back of each. 

“I love you.” I repeated to them giving them a small smile, before I closed my eyes and got some more well-needed rest.

#steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers angst #mafia stucky #stucky #stucky x reader #mafia steve rogers #mob boss steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #mafia bucky #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mob!bucky angst #avengers x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #steve x reader #steve x bucky #steve x y/n #steve x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader

[neonovember]

Deceit

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

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

divider by @firefly-graphics​ !

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His reach was absolute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet it had men like Steve falling to his knees!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He might as well have died along with her.

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

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

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

You’d much prefer the monster.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You cut your eyes towards him, narrowing your lids.

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s different” You reply evenly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

His brown locks shift as he turns back to you

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

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

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

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

Not that shitty huh Bucky?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You blurt out

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

What had changed?

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

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

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

“Friend?” You reply

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

“Sure” 

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

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

“Mare?

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

Especially in New York.

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

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

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

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

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[bigtreefest]

Chapter 4: Under Pressure

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: Bucky’s been weird since that night at the bar, but will a taste of danger at the farm bring him back to his senses?

Word count: 5,468

Content/warnings: Avoidance/masking of feelings, consumption and mention of alcohol, mutual pining, omg Cole is such a jerk, use of pet names, use of y/n, a little angst especially at the end, mentions of bullying, vulnerability

Author’s Note: I really enjoyed writing this chapter. There was a lot I wanted to include, and so much that made it in here that I hadn’t even intended originally. Happy reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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The rest of the weekend had been generally uneventful. You worked on the books and finances for the farm while Curtis did chores on Saturday and hung out with a book of your own on Sunday.

Bucky had become scarce. You had hardly seen him since Friday night besides mealtimes. Other than that, he was in his room, outside on the gravel talking to Steve over the phone, or shadowing Curtis to relearn how to do the tasks a sixth time.

You admired his work ethic and dedication to your agreement, but couldn’t help but feel that he was avoiding you. Was it something you said? Was he angry? To be honest, your memory seemed pretty clear. The last thing you remember was being grateful that he was there to help you get rid of Cole, and then waking up in bed to medicine and a glass of water on your nightstand. Not much could’ve happened in that small gap, right?

Wrong. Bucky had been consumed by the thought of you since that night. Every moment he went back to it, the nerves in his fingers burned all the way up to his shoulders with the thought of your touch. His gut felt tingly in a way he hadn’t experienced since he was a young boy daunted with the task of rising to power in his organization.

Was he nervous? No. Bucky Barnes doesn’t get nervous. He just gets pensive. When things seem like they’re getting out of his hands, he takes a step back to make a plan, then muscles his way through until he gets what he wants. He was used to using that same strategy to tamper down every emotion he felt except pride, and was well-practiced at that, so why did it all come crumbling from the simple act of you on his arm? Or was it the fact that he wished you taking his hat and putting it on your head could hold actual meaning? As soon as he identified his feelings, he called Steve.

“Whaddup, Buck? Not much has changed around here since last night, so I assume something has changed on your end?”

Bucky sighed. Why did he call in the first place? The last thing he wanted to do was acknowledge this… ~feeling~ by doing it the dignity of speaking it out loud. That made it real. “Um, no, not really. Just wanted to check in. I’ve got the day off.”

Steve paused on the other side of the line. “Okay….are you sure about that? Because you don’t seem very sure about that. Was everything okay at the bar? You didn’t get into a fight, did you?”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth turned up and he sighed in relief. “Oh, no, yeah, I’m sure. And I definitely did not get in a fight last night, some guy came up and was hitting on Y/N while I was out on the phone with you, so she wanted to head out right after.”

Bucky was satisfied with his well-formulated response until his best friend spoke up again. “Ah, so this is about your feelings for her, right? You were jealous?”

Bucky froze. “Pshhh….uh, no. Definitely not. She was very obviously not interested in him so we left.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Bucky could hear the deadpan in Steve’s voice. “I don’t care whether she was interested in him or not, I care about how her talking to some handsome stranger made you feel.”

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose. “Steven, I’m going to be honest with you and I do not want you to say a word of this to anyone, or else.”

Steve poorly hid a smile in his voice. “Okay, Bucket. Floor is yours.”

“First of all, he was not that handsome. Based off her reaction, he was probably a scumbag in a Carhartt jacket that has never seen a day of actual work, but that’s besides the point….Yes…. Seeing her talking to that guy, and talking to her about her ex made me feel…things, but that wasn’t all of it….” The next words came out as a mumble. “She put my hat on her head and her head on my shoulder when I drove her home….andiwisheditwasreal.”

Steve was full-blown laughing now, so much was going on in that statement. Since when did Bucky care about work clothes and people’s worthiness of them? At least he was being honest. “Sorry Buck, missed that last part. Care to repeat?”

“Oh you know exactly what I said.” He spat back.

“Okay, okay. So what are you gonna do about it then? You’ve still got three more weeks out there. From what I can see, you’ve got a few opti-“

“Nothing.” Bucky cut him off. “I’m going to do nothing. I can’t play into her charm anymore. I’m just going to stay away and put my head down and-“

“Bucky stop. Slow down.” Steve cut him off in return to stop the spiral. “Your solution to everything can’t be to ice it out until freezes and shatters. Let’s look at this for a second. You care for her, so why can’t you stay friends? You obviously get along well, and I’m not just saying this from a personal standpoint, I’m saying this from a business standpoint. She very evidently knows how to deal with people and looking at the books, her finances are exceptional considering it’s a relatively small farm operation.”

“Okay, first off, of course I can ice her out. I need to show who’s in charge and this has worked with other associates before. And second off, what are you seeing in her finances?” Bucky huffed.

“Buck, she could buy your house. Somehow she’s invested so well that she doesn’t need our business deal, but she took it anyway. Makes me wonder why. Someone doing something like that doesn’t deserve ice, maybe you should try a little sweetness. I mean, I know you think everyone’s a sucker for that tough exterior of yours.” Steve’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “But you know what they say: you catch more bees with honey…. However, that sting on your face shows you can catch a bee just by standing there, so I’m not sure how fair that analogy is.” Steve let out a hearty chuckle at his own joke as a scowl crawled onto Bucky’s face.

“Ha ha ha, very funny, but we’re doing this my way. I’ll figure it out. I just have to last three more weeks.”

Steve sighed and replied with evident disappointment and a hint of frustration in his voice. “Okay, whatever you say, you’re the boss. I’ll call you later with a new update, Bucket.”

Bucky rolled his eyes in response. “Ugh, why do I still tell you everything when you use it against me like this?”

“That’s platonic love, my friend. Someone’s gotta hold you accountable and know you won’t punch them in the face for it.” And with that, Steve hung up and left Bucky looking up at the clear, blue sky.

Although Steve’s words and accusations stuck in his head, Bucky decided he wanted to muscle through this deal on his own. All he really needed to do was stay away from you and put in the work, and that would make it easier, right? He would simply do what he came here to do, nothing more, nothing less. If only Bucky could hear Steve’s grumble “why does he even tell me about this stuff if he won’t even take my advice?” that was said after every phone call.

You woke up to the first rooster crow on Monday morning. By the time you had gotten dressed and walked down the creaky stairs, you saw your breakfast plate made and sitting on the counter and a mug of coffee that had already cooled down to a more than drinkable temperature.

You peeked in the dishwasher to see a set of dishes had already been placed in there. Bucky must’ve already eaten and gone out for the day. He probably wanted to get a jump start on his work. At least he knew what he was doing.

The real reason he was up and going already that you hadn’t known? He couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned all night thinking about what Steve had said and honestly, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. Couldn’t bring himself to mess up more in your presence and be saved and comforted by your seemingly bottomless grace. The solution was to do the work in pensive silence, as far from you as possible, so he could mess up and fix it on his own without the thought of your kind, yet penetrating, gaze. He was getting too close for comfort. The only solution was to pull away.

This continued for the next three days. Wake up before you. Make breakfast. Get a jump start on chores. Mess up on chores (as you secretly watched from the tractor, or the hay loft). Fix the mistakes. Carry on with his head down. Come home. Make dinner. Trap himself in his room. Go to bed. Start again.

Some notable moments that you’d caught unbeknownst to him: Bucky’s galoshes getting stuck in the mud of the pig pen, followed by him having to step out of the still-stuck boots, continue to walk to pour the feed in the trough while losing both socks as well, then returning to dig out the boots. At least half a dozen goat head-butts while trying to grab the babies to take them to the separate feeding area. The mommas were not happy with Bucky’s insistence on taking their kids, and they showed him by knocking him repeatedly into the white-painted fences. Bucky responded with an oof and him rubbing the affected area, returning a glower to the seemingly now unbothered mothers. Bucky losing sheep, but not knowing how to command your dog to corral them, thus having to run and herd them himself, surprisingly more efficiently each time it happened, you might add.

You were proud of Bucky for his work ethic. If he had put half this effort into his business dealings, you could see how he rose to the top so quickly. He wasn’t the only one who did research on whom they were dealing with.

He was stubborn and wanted things right, but didn’t let a lack of perfection stop him from completing the tasks. However, at some point, it looked like he was beating himself up. Like he was self-punishing for something you couldn’t quite identify, so you called Curtis to help at the farm so you could figure it out. Come Thursday afternoon, you handed off your chores to him and went back to the house early in hopes of catching Bucky. You were half way through dinner when the front door opened, the mud-covered mob boss in well-fitting farm clothes crossing the threshold.

You looked him up and down, doing your best to hold in a laugh at the disheveled appearance. “Well howdy. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you. Figured you’ve been working so hard, it’s my turn to help you out some.”

Bucky was taken aback by seeing you in the kitchen, not only had he purposely been avoiding you and planned to get in the house before you even considered dinner, but you just looked so relaxed. Something about that stoked an ember in him he’d tried hard to snuff out. You were wearing a t-shirt and your hair was pulled up off your shoulders, almost like any other day, but your features didn’t have their usual determined focus. They were at ease, which was in total juxtaposition with Bucky’s swirl of anxiousness rising in his gut.

Bucky looked at you with wide eyes and pointed over his shoulder with a thumb. “Um, I thought you were still out in the field. Saw the tractor turning the hay over.” He swallowed thickly.

You leaned to peek around him. “Ah, yes. That’s Curtis. Called him in today to help me finish up so you and I could talk about a few things. Go ahead and wash up. By the time you’re done, this should all be ready.”

All he could do was nod in response as he slowly made his way up the steps, mind racing with everything you could possibly say. Did you know how he felt? Did he do something wrong? Were you going to cut the deal? He could only hope the warm water would wash his worries away, along with the mud.

Bucky came back down to a homey aroma that wrapped him in comfort. That much was consistent every time he saw you. Your existence provided him a blanket of relief, despite the way he knew he should still be holding onto anticipation for what you might say. You were sitting at the head of the table flanked by Curtis, the both of you reading though some papers.

“Hey, Bucket, just in time.” Curtis greeted him, as Bucky took the seat across from him at the table, flanking your other side. You all started to dig into the food as you set the papers down on the table for Bucky to read them. It was a headline that read: TURNing the Tables: The Road to an Empire.

“What is this?” He looked up from his plate and directly into your eyes for the first time in days.

“Well, we haven’t gotten to talk about this yet, but remember that guy who we ran away from at the bar? This is him.” Bucky’s eyebrows pinched together, he knew the look of disdain on your face made sense, but still felt like he was missing something.

Curtis cleared his throat after taking a sip of tea and spoke up. “Forgot you didn’t grow up with us. Allow me to explain.” He looked to your eyes and you nodded in approval of his continuance. “In school, I was a few years older than Y/N here. Back then, there were a bunch of farmers around town, each with their own little niche, and a lotta nice farm kids who were in our classes. Except Cole. He grew up a little awkward kid, but once he hit puberty, he became the cockiest thing in town. Didn’t even care to know those other kids anymore, just bullied them. It didn’t help that it was around the same time his parents started buying out all the other small farms here, turning their small dairy operation into a much larger-scale distributor. Little too big for their britches, if you ask me.” Curtis mumbled that last part as he rolled his eyes and shoveled another fork full of food into his mouth.

Bucky nodded in acknowledgement, but still harbored some confusion in how this all tied together. “So why was it crazy to run into him at the bar if he’s from around here? And what’s the deal with him making you so uncomfortable. Like, I get it, he’s a prick, but you were running out of there. You hardly budged for me, so there’s no way he can be that intimidating to you.”

Curtis’s eyes narrowed slightly and his brows furrowed at that statement, but he let it go for now. He swallowed down another bite of food and looked at you again. Your mouth was slightly agape, debating the best way to move forward. “I didn’t look like this in high school, or throughout any schooling for that matter, so he didn’t recognize me when we ran into each other at the bar. Frankly, I hardly recognized him. And come to think of it, he didn’t even ask my name Friday night, so that goes to show what a trash bag he really is. But this is a good thing, because I think we’d be in a way bigger mess if he did remember me. It’s a long story, and I think we’ll have to go back even farther.” You took a sip of your water before setting down your silverware and leaning forward on your elbows on the table.

“Like Curtis said, Cole didn’t get along with anyone, especially Jake. In school he’d constantly push him around, so Curtis would come to his defense, even though I probably could’ve taken Cole myself.” You let out a small airy chuckle and Curtis smiled back at you, shaking his head. “But anyway, after every time Cole started a fight and Curtis finished it, he’d look at me with this big, almost mischievous grin. So honestly, I’m glad I didn’t play into getting close to him by personally defending Jake.”

Bucky continued nodding along. You seemed so unproblematic. Why were you in the middle of this? “So he didn’t recognize you at the bar, and again, he’s from around here. What’s the big deal?”

You sighed, having to explain more small-town politics to Bucky, who very evidently didn’t understand the delicate nature of places outside the city. “He’s not really from around here anymore. His farm still is, but it’s one of many now. After school, he went to get some fancy business degree from who knows where. What I’m truly concerned about is what he said to me at the bar. He’s here to squash the one thing Curtis and I, and frankly this town, have left.” Curtis rubbed your shoulder reassuringly and you rubbed your eyes in frustration. Bucky felt that same pang in his lower stomach again, seeing how close you and Curtis were and how that dumb little milk man had you this upset. You looked at Curtis gratefully and continued.

“My mom’s brother and Curtis’s dad’s sister used to run this farm back when Cole still lived here. When they passed, they left it to us, but Curtis’s dad also left the shop, which is why I mostly run things around here. But the thing is, anyone who hasn’t been to town since back then, doesn’t know that. The last name tied to this farm doesn’t apply to either of us.” Oh, so you and Curtis were second cousins? Explains a lot. Bucky hated himself that all he could think was ‘one more man who’s close to you he can check off as not being a threat.’ He really needed to get himself in check. Once he pushed those thoughts back down is when everything finally clicked.

Cole was back in town. He had a history with you. He’s got a bad track record in general. He said he wanted to squash competition. You were that competition. He didn’t know you were that competition. You had no idea where to go from here.

Before Bucky could open his mouth for his next round of clarification questions, there was a knock on the door. The three of you were so enthralled in conversation that no one heard the wheels crunching through the gravel in the driveway. You exchanged glances with the men on either side of you. A random visitor out here wasn’t too out of the ordinary, considering how much the community depended on you, but the conversation topic had you on edge. It was for good reason, because as you opened the door, leaving the screen in place, you were met with a face that had started to haunt your dreams these past few days: Cole.

He was wearing that sickening smile again, looking down at you. “Hiya, Peach. It’s been a minute.” You crossed your arms and looked at the man standing on your porch, a plastic smile glued to your face.

Bucky and Curtis shuffled behind you. Curtis shoved the papers and articles at Bucky to take somewhere else so Cole wouldn’t see them, while he made his way to your shoulder, his large stature holding every intention to intimidate Cole.

“Ah yes, your guard dog Curtis, great to see ya, buddy.” Curtis gave a death glare of acknowledgement, stance unyielding.

“Sorry I didn’t recognize you at the bar, you’ve all changed so much, including your pal, Jakey. He’s the one who so kindly told me my family missed this farm while we were on the rise. As soon as mom and pop gave me the reins, I knew I had to stop over, didn’t realize you were the one running things now.” You did your best to keep your face level.

“So what can I help you with, Cole? Are you lost? Need directions on a map? I’m a whiz at that. Happy to print one out for you.”

If it was even possible, his troubling smirk became wider. “Aren’t you going to invite me in? I’d love to talk business. Maybe over dinner? Smells delicious.”

You scrunched your nose, keeping the fake smile on your face. “Unfortunately, it’s all gone. Maybe next time. How about you and me mosey over to the office. It’s been too long. I’ve got some mints in there. Maybe those can tide you over.”

“Too long, indeed.” He ignored the rest of your statement, but Bucky didn’t. He’d never heard you say something that rude before. Someone like Cole might have been none the wiser, but those were loaded words that he knew you said with intention. How could he blame you, though. The man in the fake work clothes had invited himself in unannounced. Not even Bucky did that to you. The same couldn’t be said for his actions with other associates, but one thing he knew was that you were deserving of all the respect in the world. Respect Cole was not giving you. Cole nodded to the two men and followed you down the hall, not bothering to take off his shoes and add them to the files of boots by the door. Another mark in Bucky’s mind. You closed the door you’d held open behind him after giving a wide-eyed look to your two confidants whose eyes followed the whole thing.

Bucky scrambled to clean up the dinner plates and pack away the leftovers. It was smart of you to not offer Cole anything. He didn’t need any reason to stick around longer than you wanted him to. Bucky knew a thing or two about business dealings with enemies, and he was usually much cooler than this, but the fact he could tell you were freaking out, freaked him out.

He still hadn’t dealt with his emotions for you, and your earnestness not even half an hour ago had made it worse. So he did what he always does when he’s not sure and needs a wall to talk at: he called Steve.

Steve picked up in a surprisingly good mood. “Hey Buck, what can I do ya for.”

“I need to you gather everything you can on Cole Turner.” He frantically spat out. Steve grew serious to mirror his best friend’s tone. “And…” Bucky lowered his phone for a second and looked at Curtis. “What’s Jake’s last name.”

Curtis looked at him skeptically. “Jenson. Jacob Jensen.” Bucky nodded his head in thanks and lifted the phone back up to his ear.

“Did you get that?…Yeah, put our best guys on it. Ok, call me later tonight when you know. Doesn’t matter the time. Bye.”

Bucky lowered the phone and looked at Curtis who had just finished wiping down the counters. Curtis had his arms crossed and was leaned up against the kitchen island, opposite Bucky. “So you wanna tell me who exactly you are? Why you’ve got people who you can seemingly throw commands at for immediate attention? And why you care so much about this little farm that you’re only working at for a month?”

Bucky sighed and put his hands on the counter, pushing his body away from it, hinged at the hips, and hanging his head in between his arms. He stood up and quickly looked at Curtis straight in the eyes. “I think you know. I think you know the answers to all those questions, but I think you should also know, I care enough to be on your side.”

Curtis leaned in towards Bucky, his frame shadowing the mob boss’s in the evening light. For the first time in awhile, Bucky was intimidated. He knew how much Curtis cared for you, and he knew how hard he’d be pummeled if he messed up, whether Bucky used his combat training or not. He mustered up as much confidence as he could to rebuild his demeanor to face your Cousin. “You know I care, and I think all that matters is that I’m using my resources to make sure your cousin’s farm is okay and stays in her hands. You know I’m here to do business, but this is bigger than me and I see that now. I’m someone with power, and not unearned power like that prick in the other room. So I’m someone who uses that power in your best interest. That’s all you need to know right now.”

Curtis nodded in acceptance of Bucky’s answer. He could respect that logic, and the way Bucky held his cards close to his chest, because at the end of the day, at the core of Bucky’s motivations was your well-being. No matter how much he thought he could put a veil over it, Curtis saw through.

“Well, Bucky, I won’t doubt you then, but you better hold true and honest, for your own sake and for hers. And I hope to hear more of your other ‘business ventures’ later down the road, but for now, I think our girl needs us.” Bucky nodded along in agreement.

“I don’t think there’s much else I can do right now while I wait for that intel to get back. You got anything?”

Curtis grinned and gave a small shrug. “I can think of one thing. Go up in that top cabinet above the fridge. We’ve got a bottle of the good stuff. She’s gonna need it once we can get the slime ball to slide outta here.”

Bucky’s shoulder’s bounced with a small laugh as he pulled down the bottle. “Let’s get cracking then.”

It was another half hour before Cole emerged from your office and looked cockily at the two men chatting in your kitchen. You followed closely behind, doing your best to subtly corral him out of the house.

“I hope you’ll consider my offer. Actually, I know you will. Over dinner next time.” He smirked back at you over his shoulder. You escorted him out the door as politely as you could, draining your last bit of energy. You closed and locked the front door, which rarely was so, and peeked through the window until he was gone.

You turned around to look at the two of them as your shoulders slumped. You dragged your feet over to the island where Curtis and Bucky were leaning leisurely, grateful Curtis knew exactly what you needed as he slid the filled shot glass toward you.

You grabbed it and threw it back, slamming it back down on the butcher block counter top as Curtis moved to refill it. “How many do I have to catch up on?”

“Only two.” Curtis replied as he slid the shot glass back over to you again.

“Let’s make it three.” You choked out after you attempted to swallow down the burn of the second shot.

“Bucket, can you please make us some water bottles? I’ve gotta get out of this house. We’re going for a walk.”

“Yeah, okay, Honey. Only on the condition that you put my boots on me for the walk. My hammies are sore from being your little chore boy.” He replied as he reached into the cabinet to grab the bottles.

He smiled to himself when he heard your giggle. He’d normally never complain that openly and ridiculously, but you gave him the reaction he was hoping for. Anything to make sure the life wasn’t totally sucked out of you by Cole.

“Your negotiations are no good here. You put your own boots on and take your own boots off unless you’re married. My house, my rules. But tell ya what, I’ll let you have another shot of this small-batch bourbon with me and Curty boi. That’s more than payment enough.” You winked at him as he handed you the water bottle. The three of you taking the last shot and heading out the door, making your way towards the back of the property.

It was an easy walk through level fields, just long. The three of you fell into easy conversation about anything other than Cole, insisting you’d debrief them tomorrow, so the conversation mainly consisted of teasing Curtis about the new girl and her truck he had to fix last week. The comfortable silences otherwise were filled with the sound of the crickets chirping. You found comfort in the caress of the warm, humid breeze that blew through as you walked towards the hills where the old mines of the property resided.

Once you reached the entrance, you turned around and faced the two large men. “Buck, you’ve been working really hard this week, so I think it’s time I showed you what you’re working toward. Figured it would be a nice change of pace for us to take a look at this tunnel tonight, and we can start scheduling some time in for us to fix up the scaffolding and supports.”

Bucky nodded, looking at you with a grin on his face while Curtis clicked on his flashlight. “I’m honestly curious to see what’s going on in there. I don’t think we’ve ventured in since we were teenagers.” His voice echoed through the mouth of the mine.

You led the way, turning on your own flashlight, scanning the dirt walls and old, wooden supports. “Yeah, it’s been awhile, but I think you could work with this, right, Bucket? This tunnel specifically doesn’t have an outlet like the connecting network in some of the others, so it would be mostly storage. You could probably send some underlings out here to help you out.”

You both laughed as Bucky walked closer to the wall, examining one of the support beams. “Yeah, I mean, I own a construction company, so that shouldn’t be a worry at all.”

That caught Curtis’s attention as he stopped to give a side glance toward Bucky. You continued on ahead unfazed as Bucky kicked the wooden beam in front of him to test its integrity. It crumbled slightly at the toe of his boot. Underwhelmed with the scale of the break, the two men made a move to step forward when they heard a rumbling, followed by the beam Bucky had kicked crashing down in front of them. Pebbles shifted and fell out of the ceiling, followed by larger rocks and before they could blink, the tunnel buckled creating a wall of sand and stone between you and them.

All Bucky could hear was your muffled scream on the other end. I’m okay, just get me out of here. He was going into panic mode, but a plan still was racing though his brain as he made every attempt to mash it together into something coherent. Through the ringing in his ears he heard Curtis yell. “We have to call the police, the fire department, someone to get her out of there. She might not be injured now, but I can’t say the same if there’s a secondary collapse. We need to do something. Now.”

Bucky grabbed him by his collar. “No. No police. It’ll ruin everything.”

Curtis put his hands up in surrender. “Okay then, what do you suppose we do, big guy?”

Bucky paced back and forth, biting his thumbnail with worry. “Gimme a second. I’m figuring it out.” He stopped in his tracks. “Who all knows about the mines?”

“What? What does that ha-“

Bucky cut Curtis off. “Who. All. Knows?”

Curtis shook his head and shrugged. “I-I don’t know, not many people. Me and her, her college roommate, and Jake. That’s it, I think.”

Bucky rapidly reached into the pocket of his jeans and handed Curtis a card from his wallet. “This is my associate Sam. You’re going to call him and tell him those names. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

Curtis immediately pulled out his phone, trusting the judgement of his new friend. Bucky did the same, calling Steve. It was time to send backup to the farm. He could have his men out here tonight, and your friends by at least the morning, sending his private jet to retrieve them.

He needed you out of that tunnel like he needed to breathe, mostly because if he didn’t get you out of there within a day, you wouldn’t be able to.

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Bonus A/N: so much going on!! What will happen next? Who was the girl whose truck Curtis had to fix??

Thank you so much for reading!! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are soooo appreciated. Lmk if you’d like to be added to any of my tag lists. Love you!

Series taglist:

@scuzmunkie

@openup-yourmind

@vicmc624

#bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes angst #mob Bucky #mob! bucky x farmer! reader #mob bucky x farmer reader #mafia bucky x farmer reader #mafia! bucky x reader #mafia! bucky x farmer! reader #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky #you catch more bees with honey series #you catch more bees with honey #chapter 4: under pressure #steve rogers #sebastian stan #curtis everett #jake jensen #cole turner #chris evans #mafia bucky x you #mafia bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky x you #mob bucky x y/n #abandoned mines

[myfictionaldreams]

Merry Christmas // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was a simple question: Have you been naughty or nice this year?

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, costumes/roleplay, rough oral (f and m receiving), rough sex, size kink, praise kink, choking, sir kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, subspace, aftercare

A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry, it's been a while since I've posted; I promise to get back to requests at some point. Until then, I just wanted to post a little something and to say Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and Happy Holidays to everyone else!

Words: 2.8k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Winter was one of your utterly favourite months just for moments like the one you were currently experiencing. The snow layered thickly against the outside of your home, causing a darkened shadow on the inside, which only meant that the blazing fire lit the sitting area in beautiful deep orange and red. The sweet smell of hot cocoa wafted from the kitchen, only making your smile grow as you pulled the fluffy blanket further up your body until the only exposed part of you was your face.

Your back nuzzled further into the soft cushions of the coach you were waiting patiently on, watching the movie with half interest as the comfort of the moment had you wanting to drift into sleep. What’s more was that the meetings that had been planned for later in the evening had inevitably been cancelled due to the freezing weather, which meant that you knew you could sit in with your two boyfriends without the fear of them being out on the dangerous roads, just to attend a threatening meeting.

They were home. Safe. With you.

Blinking open an eye and looking around the room, it dawned on you that they’d been gone from your side for so long that the parts of the cushions they’d been sitting on had turned cold. You’d been drifting between sleep and trying to cuddle closer to them for an hour when Bucky shifted, causing a groan to burst from your throat.

He’d simply kissed your temple tenderly, earning a much-deserved smile in return as he explained that he would make the three of you hot cocoa. Steve had then mumbled something about helping him, but you were too busy trying to reposition your body and get used to not having them squishing either side of you.

Sitting up slightly on the couch, you glanced briefly over the back towards where the kitchen was to see if you could spot either Steve or Bucky, but neither were in sight.

“What’s taking you both so long? I’m getting so cold and lonely out here without you”, you shouted idly with a hint of a whine for emphasis. As you stared up at the TV attached to the wall above the fireplace, you contemplated what film the three of you could watch tonight when you became distracted by the footsteps coming from the kitchen. Frowning, you began to shout, “What took you both so … long?”

Any words you were thinking of asking were swiftly forgotten as your view of the TV was replaced by both of your boyfriends, each standing in oversized Santa trousers, each held up by black suspenders over their shoulders. The red velvet material that covered their strong legs was cuffed with thick white fluff around the ankles and waistline. However, your attention wasn’t forced on this as your eyes squinted, not quite believing the detail; “Have you oiled your chests?” you asked quietly, throat suddenly thick with saliva.

Bucky smirked, tensing his pecs so that you could see the oil's gleam better in the fire's orange light. In any other situation, you might have laughed at the fact that they looked like wannabe Santa strippers, but your pussy was being a traitor with the deep pulse that had your thighs clenching with the desperate need to find some relief.

The baby oil that covered the top half of their naked body seemed to extenuate the god-like bodies they both had, the muscles over their arms and abs flexing with the subtle movements they were both making. Even Bucky’s metal arm was oiled, causing the silver shade to shimmer and gleam.

Your head swivelled between admiring the both of them, unsure what to say or how to act. Thankfully, Steve was the first to speak, his thumbs hooking into the base of the black suspenders as he asked in a deep, gravely voice, “Have you been naughty or nice this year?”

Your lips automatically flicked up at the corners to a teasing smile, but the single eyebrow raised by Steve had you falling right into the trap. All the thoughts that had crossed your mind to laugh and joke with them had quickly melted into the submissive, needy girlfriend that they both wanted.

“Um, nice - I think, " you respond before biting your lower lip, a move that had both Steve and Bucky reaching forward, but the latter made first contact, his metal thump gently easing out the lip from between your teeth.

“Nice huh? You sure about that, Doll?” Bucky asked, his fingers firmly holding your chin so you could not look away from him.

You shivered as Steve eased away the blanket, and even though the room wasn’t cold, the sensations pulsing through your core had your body overreacting. Your eyes had drifted over to Steve, who had squatted to be closer to your height, but a sharp tug on your chin from Bucky had your attention back on him as you tried to form the words to respond to him. “Ye-yes. Yes, I’ve been nice”.

A sharp gasp left your mouth as a quick tug of your nipple from Steve had your body shifting upright. With your arousal building, your nipples had pebbled beneath the thin, oversized top that you wore. Bucky’s eyes seemed to darken as he watched your reaction, the subtle way your hips ground on the couch.

“Really? Because from what I’ve seen, it looks like you’re being a very naughty girl right now. Tell me, Sweetheart, what do you want for Christmas?”

“You”, your response was instantaneous, and it seemed to be the correct answer with the way Bucky smiled down at you before releasing your chin.

“Well, it still remains to be seen if you’ve really been a good girl”, Bucky emphasised the last two words, knowing just how those words stroke the deep praise kink that further warmed your pussy, your wetness beginning to coat your lips and drench your shorts.

“Pl-please let me prove it. I want to be both of yours, good girl.” You look between where Bucky still stood above you, and Steve knelt at your side.

“That’s the thing, Sweetheart. The boss down there seems to agree with you. He thinks you’ve been a good girl all year round for his treats, but me? I’m not convinced; I think I need you to show me just how good you can be”, Bucky explains with darkness lacing his words. “Stand up”, he orders, full of authority. You do, being careful not to knock into Steve as you stand with enough speed that you are somewhat lightheaded. Both of their hands were on you in a split second. Steve grabbed the waistline of your shorts, and Bucky pulled the shirt up and over your head until the two of them had you standing completely bare.

Ungracefully, Bucky pushed against your shoulder, forcing you to sit back onto the warm cushions, looking up at him with wide eyes. A gentle tremor was pulsing through your body with anticipation of what was to come. Your cunt would have been soaked just from the way they were both acting, but with the outfits as well, you were near feral with need.

Bucky’s warm hand gently wrapped around your throat, his thumb and forefinger on either side of your neck, feeling the galloping pace of your heartbeat as you stared up at him. “Will you do everything I say?” he asks with a more gentler tone than before.

“Yes, sir”, you say, voice laced with desperation.

“Good, then I need you to ignore everything that Boss is going to do to you. The only thing I want you to do is to keep your eyes on me”.

“Yes, sir”.

With great ease, Bucky pushed against your neck, forcing you to sit back correctly against the cushions as he began to stand on the couch, just as Steve moved between your legs on the floor, lifting them until your legs lay over his shoulders.

With the oil, your legs wanted to slip off, so his massive hands had to grip onto the flesh of your thighs, keeping them thoroughly in place as he lowered his face to the heat and wetness that was begging for his touch.

As his tongue caressed the length of your pussy, drinking down the juices you’d seeped in the moments of seeing them in the outfits, your moan was cut off by the light squeeze around your throat from Bucky as he subtly reminded you of his demand. Your eyes moved away from Steve and up to the tall, foreboding figure above you as Bucky’s metal hand drifted to his suspenders, pushing them off each shoulder.

“Remember what I said. I want you to ignore him down there and keep your eyes on me. Now, why don’t you prove to me why you should be on the nice list?”. 

You were unsure if, by ignoring, he meant for you not to moan or react to Steve’s tongue as it circled your swollen bundle of nerves, but it was damn near impossible to be silent as the waves of toe-curling pleasure sparked through your core. However, your mouth was now salivating for another reason as Bucky pushed the red velvet material down his hips until midthigh, and the thick, veined cock of your boyfriend was throbbing in the air before your face.

Resting your hands on Bucky’s thicks and licking your lips whilst also trying not to crush Steve with your thighs, you willed Bucky to come closer with a pathetic squeak. Thankfully, he removed his hand from your throat and rested it on the back of the couch, using it to lower his body and directing his cock to your mouth. You didn’t waste a second before licking around the tip, gathering all the precum into your mouth before swallowing the salty goodness down, swiftly followed by a few inches of his hard length.

Bucky’s sigh was praise enough to have you feeling sated and happy as you began to pleasure him with your tongue and mouth, almost matching the movements of Steve between your legs.

“That’s it, just a little more; I know you can take it”, Bucky encouraged with a firm hand on the back of your head. As his cock reached the back of your throat and the overwhelming urge to gag overcame you, you attempted to relax your throat to take him deeper, which thankfully worked, ignoring the tears that now lined your eyes from the stimulation.

It didn’t help matters that your throat kept spasming with the moans and whines from Steve’s treatment of your pussy. He was eating you like the man was starved. Devouring is the best way to describe the way he was licking you out. His tongue changed from delving into the depths of your soaking cunt, twisting and turning to stimulate all the nerves within, just to then pull out and his teeth to gently graze your clit, causing a throb from your walls which was the gently eased by his tongue once more.

It took almost no time at all before you were cumming into his mouth with a flush of heat and added wetness that coated his chin and cheeks. Steve didn’t stop, though, and used your overstimulation post-orgasm to draw you closer to a second orgasm.

Your nails digging into the soft material of Bucky’s Santa trousers helped to keep your ground and not drown in the overwhelming length that was still forcing down your throat. With all the time you’d been with Steve and Bucky, you’d thankfully been able to train your throat to be fucked and take more of their length compared to when you were first with Steve.

This feat was a minor miracle because when Bucky began to take control of the situation and gyrated his hips so that he was now just straight-up, fucking your throat, it meant that you were able to breathe through your nose at the correct times without panicking.

Saliva had filled your mouth from the fucking and was steadily dripping down your chin, causing obscene sloppy noises to come from you, but this only added more praising groans from Bucky as you knew he loved a sloppy blowjob.

“Fuck, you’re being such a good girl, Doll. Remember what I said, eyes on me only”. You tried to nod, but the cock in your mouth hindered your movements as your eyes remained focused on the buzz-cut brunette standing over you.

This became more difficult as you noticed movement out of the corner of your eye as you came for the third time. Steve was beginning to straighten his height but remained on his knees; however, your legs were lowered until wrestling around his waist, but his grip remained tight and firm, keeping them in place.

Without warning, immense pressure and stretching of your cunt began to contort your body as Steve began to fuck into your cunt. Thankfully Bucky pulled out enough that you could gasp without his cock filtering the noise as your eyes clenched shut from the welcomed intrusion. Inch after inch filled your empty hole until his hips were flush against yours.

As you and Steve both released a relieved sigh, the dominating hand on the back of your head began to firmly tug your lips closer to Bucky’s cock once more until you were full with both of them.

The two worked together like they did in every aspect of the word. One of them remained in your body as the other pulled out. In out, in out, they fucked you until you were a trembling, wet mess.

Thankfully, now, they were both heavily praising you, which was like sweet music to your ears.

“Taking my cock so well”.

“Fuck, you always make me feel so good. Yes, just like that”.

“Such a good girl, Doll. I know you wanna cum on Steve’s cock; do it. Cum for him”.

You did. Many times, in fact. Steve had you cuming so many times that you’d lost count as a sweet warmth wrapped around your brain, leaving you feeling like you weren’t in your mundane house anymore but amongst the clouds, floating endlessly in pleasure. Your hands had dropped to your side as all of your energy was now being reserved for sucking Bucky’s cock and taking the punishing pace of Steve’s.

Eventually, Steve was the first to cum with a harsh grunt and snap of his hips as heat and thick wetness flooded into your cunt. He remained in place, holding your legs around his waist as his cock began to soften.

Bucky’s chest was now glistening with both sweat and oil as his eyebrows pinched together, his cheeks rosy with a flush as he groaned deeply, “I’m cumming, holy shit-”. You did gag this time as his entire cock bulged into your throat, the whisps of trimmed hair on his pubic mount tickling your nose as he came.

You worked hard to swallow every drop of him down until your lungs were burning for breath, and he gently eased out of your aching jaw. Your mouth tingled as you licked your swollen lips, sure that if you tried to talk now, all that you’d be able to achieve is a dreadful, deep, gravely voice.

Bucky leapt off the couch, disappearing into another direction you were too tired to follow. Thankfully, Steve remained with you as he carefully repositioned the two of you so that he now sat in the middle of the seat and had you sitting in his lap. Your head felt heavy as it lulled against his slipped chest, but you still hummed in contentment as he kissed your forehead sweetly whilst wrapping his strong hands around your shoulders.

“Hey, Sweetheart, I need you to drink some of this; it’ll help your throat”, Bucky encouraged a few moments later as he sat next to the two of you with a mug of steaming hot cocoa. Steve helped lift your head as Bucky held the drink out, tipping it slightly so that you could drink a couple of sips, moaning at the chocolatey sweet taste and the warmth that did soothe your sore throat.

“Well done, just a little more”, Steve whispered against your cheek as he lay delicate kisses against your sensitive skin.

Finally, with the drink gone, Bucky leaned closer to you, giving your lips a much-deserved kiss before pulling away with a cheeky glint in his eye. “So, do you like the outfits? They were Nat’s idea. Pretty sure she meant it as a joke”, he wondered out loud, but your giggle and nod recaptured his attention.

“I loved them”, you whispered with a voice thick with tiredness and evidence from being thoroughly fucked.

“Good, because I can’t wait to see what you’ll look like in the outfit we bought you. We think you’d be the perfect match to be Mrs Clause, but I must admit, there was significantly less material”, Steve explained as his fingers massaged into your still aching legs.

“I can’t wait, but maybe tomorrow”, you admit tiredly, relaxing further into the arms of both of them. 

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

[goldensunflowe-r]

Dark/Mafia Bucky Barnes (+smut)

Part 2

Masterlist

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky x you #mafia bucky #mafia!bucky #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #fic rec #dark fic #smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fic rec

[babyhatesreality]

The Sinner and the Saint Ch 10

*GIF for vibes only, not a depiction of reader's appearance*

Pairing: Mob!Boss Bucky x f!reader

A/N: Here we go :)

Warnings: NSFW, f!reader, language, reader is referred to by her stage name of Angel, reader is insecure, addiction references (reader feels addicted to Bucky, no drugs), SMUT, p in v, unprotected (glove before love people), creampie, p*ssy worship, foreplay, begging, teasing, one soft sp@nk, dom Bucky/sub reader dynamic and talk, Bucky is larger than reader, slight size kink, slight possessive behavior

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. MINORS DNI. THIS IS AN 18+ STORY ONLY AND IS NSFW. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE COPIED, REPRINTED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY PLATFORM EXCEPT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs deeply appreciated.

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

“Would you like to come home with me tonight?”

All breath exited your body. And all sense as well.

Well, almost.

One tiny corner of your brain screamed at you that you'd only know this man's real name for a little over an hour, that you'd really only known him for a week, and that he was a GODDAMN MAFIA DON. But your addiction to Bucky Barnes was screaming much, much louder. You tried to keep your cool and your composure as you casually took a sip of your wine.

"Are you looking to do a scene tonight?" you asked, your thighs pressing together at the mere mention of it. Bucky smiled that sinfully seductive smile back at you.

"No," he said softly. You felt a fleeting stab of disappointment, which of course showed on your face. He grinned at you. "Let me rephrase. I want to do anything and everything with you and to you. You have NO fucking clue. We will do scenes, but that's later. Right now, tonight...I just want you. Just you and me. No set ups, no scenarios, no accessories. Only you and me tonight."

You were so turned on by his erotic and intimate request that you couldn't help but shift a bit in your chair. His grin widened devilishly, and you thrust your chin in the air, trying to prove that you weren't as instantly readable as he seemed to think you were. "You and me only. I think that can be arranged," you said smoothly, patting yourself on the back for your chill.

Bucky snorted a low laugh, making you panic for a second. Had he been teasing you, just to let you down? But he leaned forward, clasping his hands together and looking you dead in the eye with that wicked smile. "Cut the Cool Hand Luke act," he teased gently. "What is it you really want to say to me?"

Well. Fine. Fuck that then. He asked.

You hurtled yourself off your chair and practically threw yourself into his lap, grasping his head in between your hands and smashing your mouth onto his. The second your lips connected, that absolute thrill shot through your veins like electricity again, feeding the burning, sparkling desire you felt for him. You moaned into his mouth as the feel of his lips both soothed and exacerbated every nerve in your body, setting you on fire.

He responded quickly after a second of freezing, surprised by your amorous onslaught, wrapping his right hand around you and pulling you in tightly to his chest while his left hand slid up your back and into your hair. He pulled you impossibly closer to him as your arms wound around his neck. The push and pull of your mouths was sinfully delicious. And then he opened his mouth and slipped his tongue between your lips.

With another soft exhaled exclamation, you gave him full access to explore, which he greedily took advantage of. The feel of his warm, wet tongue slipping in and out and all around made you desperately aware of your arousal downstairs. You couldn't help the needy whine that escaped. You felt his lips curve up, then he pulled away for a moment, causing you to exhaled in horny frustration. He smirked that damn challenging smirk of his at your impatience.

"Did you get enough to eat?" Bucky asked you. What the fuck?! You shared one of the deepest, most passionate kisses of your life and THAT'S what he stopped it to ask?! Instead of answering, you moved to press your lips back to his. He jerked back and gave you a soft spank instead, a look of warning on his face. That made you stop immediately, staring at him doe-eyed, your arms still around his neck.

"Uh uh," he admonished quietly. "Answer the question, now." You took a deep breath and gulped.

"Yes, sir," you said, before squirming again, unable to keep the neediness out of your voice as you felt his significant arousal as well. You needed another hit of your Bucky drug, knowing how turned on he was too, but somehow instinctively knew better than to challenge that look. You felt the thrill zip through him as you called him 'sir', but he wasn't quite ready to give in just yet. He obviously had more self control than you, the bastard.

He raised an eyebrow at you. "Really?" he asked, giving you that look again, wanting a more satisfying answer. So you took another breath to rein your roaring libido in, looking behind you at your empty plate and half drunk wine. You reached across the table impatiently, snatched the glass, and drank in down in one. You felt more than saw his grin get wider and wider as you chugged. You slammed the glass down on the table and turned back to him, the look in your eye now wild.

"Really," you deadpanned back. He laughed in the back of his throat.

"Little brat," he teased affectionally, then his grin got wider when you gave him your own cheeky smile back. "Seems like you needed a little touch of the Dom tonight after all." He laughed again as you attacked his lips with a feral growl, then met you with the same enthusiasm.

You didn't entirely remember how you got back to the car, as Bucky half carried you through a back door exit, his lips never leaving yours. You suddenly realized you were outside only because of the abrupt temperature change. You heard a car door, and only opened your eyes because Bucky set you down.

"In," he commanded, his voice rough with lust. You scrambled in immediately and he followed, slamming the door shut and reaching for you again in the same fluid movement. "Home," he barked at Steve, before jamming his finger on button to slide the privacy divider between the front and back seat up. Before the divider was even halfway up, Bucky put his hand behind your head and dove into your mouth with his tongue again.

Panicking slightly, your eyes shot to the rearview mirror. Now that you knew Steve was Bucky's oldest and best friend, what did he think of you agreeing to go home with his buddy? Were you good enough for him? For his boss, the gangster?? Were you making a very dangerous man mad? But you caught the tiniest eye crinkle in the mirror right before it disappeared, that made you realize Steve was smiling, even if just a little bit.

And, to be honest, the next second that Bucky's tongue swept the roof of your mouth, you forgot what you had even been worried about.

You were so caught up in the spell that was Bucky Barnes, that squealed in surprise into Bucky's mouth when he suddenly yanked you sideways in your seat and out the door. You came to your senses enough to realize you were in a huge, cavernous garage, before Bucky literally hoisted you into his arms and started walking, carrying you like a koala. You didn't give a shit. You only wanted him and couldn't be bothered to think of anything else.

Before you knew it, you found yourself on your feet. You looked around and gasped in surprise. You were in his fucking bedroom.

The furniture in the room was all a rich, deep cherry color, all looking incredibly expensive and well cared for. The fabrics in the room were black with silver details, but every now and then a surprising pop of a soft dark purple color combined with the mahogany wood made it all feel warm and inviting, but slightly dangerous- a room worthy of a mafia king. The bed was huge, with a mahogany headboard woven with a black wrought iron detailing grate inlaid on it.

It suddenly hit home where you were. And what was about to happen. You took a deep breath, but a combination of nerves and anxiety smacked you back to reality all at once. And then Bucky put his hands on either side of your face and turned your gaze back to him.

The slow burn through your blood as you sank into his touch drove out everything else. He gently kissed your lips, leaning down over you possessively. Your hands grasped his sides, pulling yourself into him. His arousal was now more prominent than ever, making you feel like a fucking goddess.

"I've watched you take your clothes off for the last week," he said in a seductive tone. "You have no idea how jealous I've been...of you getting to do that. Now it's finally my turn."

He reached down, pulling on the silk wrap tie at your waist. He apparently understood how the dress worked, because as he slid his hand inside for the interior tie he also leaned down, pressing his lips softly to the crook of your neck. It felt so sinfully divine that your head tilted back and you let out a soft moan. You felt his lips curve up against your sin.

"Mmmm, you're so responsive," he murmured, tugging the tie open. "I'm gonna have fun with that." Once the tie came loose, he stood back up, slowly pushing the silk dress off your shoulders. It flowed down your arms in a fluttery wave to the floor. He stepped back and sharply inhaled as he took in your lingerie.

You were wearing a black silk plunge bra, and a matching black silk thong with the tiniest hint of purple lace trim. He growled in appreciation and went into remove them. You reciprocated by reaching for his shirt buttons (You didn't remember him losing his jacket, but fuck it, one less layer to deal with). The first time he felt your fingers on the button, he instantly snatched your wrists, holding them tight.

"Tsk tsk tsk," he said playfully, making you smirk. "Did I tell you you could do that?"

Since this wasn't a scene and you weren't sure you'd ever be able to get away with this again, you turned on the puppy dog eyes and gave him your biggest exaggerated pleading pout. He took one look at your face, and his entire demeanor changed to soft. Then he scowled.

"Goddammit, that's gonna be dangerous," he muttered, making you giggle as he yanked his cuffs open. You took that as permission to keep going, hurriedly undoing the buttons but trying to be cool. The more skin you revealed, the less cool you got, until finally you yanked his shirt tails out of his pants and over his shoulders. You exhaled as you took in his sculpted torso. There was no body hair save a fine line down beneath his waistline, but a plethora of scars. For some reason, the thrill of him zipped through you again, just looking at them. You wanted to run your fingers across every single one of them, but you wanted something else even more now.

You both grew frenzied, him reaching for your bra and you reaching for his zipper, your lips locking as you fervently raced to unclothe each other. Once the last garment dropped, you both stepped away as if on cue and looked at each other.

His blue eyes were glowing with a carnal appreciation and lust as he saw you, fully undressed, for the first time. You noted how his gaze lingered on you lower abdomen, your breasts, your neck. He'd seen almost all of that before at the club, but now it was complete and all only for him. You looked him over yourself, appreciating the fine specimen of abs, the cut hip bones, and his...

"Oh my god," you breathed out.

He grinned devilishly. "I'll take that as a compliment."

He moved towards you, his cock at full attention, and pulled you into him again, slotting his tongue into your mouth. The feeling of skin on skin was indescribable, sending you into a lusty haze. You ran your hands up his back, feeling more scars, but feeling HIM. You could feel the warm, velvety flesh under your fingers and the moving muscles of his back. You felt more high than you'd ever been in your life.

He moved you closer to the bed, only pausing from kissing you to rip the covers back. You were surprised by the dark purple silk sheets. Somehow you'd managed to color coordinate with his bedroom.

Score one for you.

He gently laid you down on the bed, then positioned himself on your left, running his right hand up your arm, subtly moving you so that your hands went above your head. You were completely under his spell, moving exactly how he wanted you to with only the slightest nudging on his part. Nuzzling to your side, one of his legs thrown over and trapping both of yours, you felt his impressive manhood pressing into your hip, and without realizing it, you turned your whole body towards it, letting out a small whine of need. He let out an exhale of satisfaction as his right hand subtly took a hold of both of your wrists over your head, pinning them gently down.

"So gorgeous, my perfect Angel," he whispered hoarsely. He took his time, tracing the fingers of his left hand down your body, noting its response to the metal. It was shockingly warm yet electrifying. You were insanely aware of where those fingers were. You bit your lip to try to keep your moans inside, but he attacked your mouth with his the moment he saw that.

"Mm-mm," he scolded in his throat as he kept up his fiery assault on your lips. He broke away, leaving you gasping for air and for him. "Don't hold back. I want to hear every sound I pull out of your body. This room is sound-proofed; no one other than me will hear you. I want every single sound- only for me. You understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mmmmm ESPECIALLY that sound," he growled, before he began kissing down your body again, causing you to arch and bow and moan like you'd never done before. He ran his fingers along every part of you, taking his time, usually finishing with a kiss before he moved onto the next section. "Someday," he murmured against the soft skin under your right breast, his body draped over and touching yours, "I will have every inch of you in my mouth."

You groaned as those words stoked the blazing fire of need centering between your legs. You felt your pussy twitch as that mental image of having every part of your body in his talented mouth invaded your mind. Bucky smiled and licked a line under your breast, right where his lips had just been. You nearly screamed at the incredible feeling, your back arching involuntarily. "But I don't have the patience for that right now, not when I need you so badly," he whispered against your left nipple. Your eyes closed as your back bowed again.

"Bucky, please," you managed to gasp out. "Need you too."

"Do you now?"

"Yes, please! Please!"

"So pretty when you beg for me, Angel. Begging to be made a sinner."

"Bucky, please, please..."

Bucky moved his lips to your left ear. "I'm right here, baby," he whispered. Your entire body instantly went limp, reacting to the warmth and the sensuality of it. You felt his right hand let your wrists go, and him move to the end of the bed. Your eyes opened to find him kneeling at your feet, looking down on you like a predator, his huge dick fully at attention.

"Open yourself to me," he whispered. "I want to see you." His eyes dragged from your ankles to your core, where your thighs were pressed together.

A fear shot through you at his insanely intimate request. Why was he asking this? What if he didn't like what he saw? A lot of guys didn't want to look at a pussy, only pound into it. And could you actually bring yourself to spread your legs and let him...just look? And then he broke out his own secret weapon.

"Please," he whispered hoarsely. You couldn't resist it. There was no way, not when you were already hooked on him so desperately. You slid your hands down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs, and carefully spread your legs open for him. Your eyes never left his face as he moved in closer, on his knees.

Bucky stared into your core with wonder, letting out a small exhale of delight. His eyes slid along your folds, seeing the glistening arousal there. "My god," he murmured. "You are exquisite." He reached down and gently pumped his huge cock a few times, even though there was clearly no need. He just wanted to touch himself at the sight of your beauty.

His carnal worshipping of your pussy was the most erotic thing you'd ever experienced in your life. To have this gorgeous powerful man look at the most secret part of your body and declare it exquisite was beyond anything you'd ever felt before. And he hadn't even touched it yet. You felt powerful, worshipped, and at once- pliant and ready for whatever he wanted to do to you.

With a bold move, you slipped your hand between your legs to gather up your slickness. You reached out, replacing his hand, and gave his cock a few pumps of your own. Jesus Christ it was like getting your hand on a paint roller holy FUCK. His feral growl of pleasure was enough to send a new wave of lust crashing through you.

"Touch me," he commanded you, as he positioned himself in between your legs. Your hands traced up his arms as he guided his cock to your entrance. He looked at you, just to make sure.

"Yes," you whispered back, not even recognizing your own voice in your need. He slowly sank into you, letting out a sensual moan as he did. He tried to take it slowly, letting you adjust to his size. You gasped and mewled as he took you, your hands suddenly clutching his back fervently.

"Nails," he said, and you knew what he meant. You raked your nails down his back, and he let out a guttural cry, pushing in even further, making you gasp harder.

"Fuck, you are so goddamn tight," he murmured, kissing your collarbone frantically, trying to hold himself back from plunging into you and splitting you in half. In response to that, you put your hands on his incredibly firm backside, pulling him into you even more, not giving a damn if he cracked you right down the middle because it felt so fucking GOOD.

He slid all the way in, and between that and the feeling of your bare chests touching, you nearly came on the spot. You both tried to catch your breath for a moment as you adjusted to the incredible feeling of connection. He looked deep into your eyes, and all you could do was return the wide-eyed stare of wonder, before he smiled that devilish, seductive grin.

"Let me hear you baby," he said, then began slowly thrusting. The shocked gasp and high pitched keen that you gave off at the first thrust was exactly what he wanted to hear. For your sake, he tried to move slowly, letting you feel him as he slowly stoked your desire. He drank in every sinful moan and cry from your mouth, letting it fuel his own passion.

His sensual strokes became quicker as he could feel you pulsing and tightening around him, groaning in pleasure himself. Your hands were on his back, pressing him into you, then running up his arms to his face, and pulling him in for a desperate kiss, then back down his arms as he really began pumping into you. The feeling of his lower abdomen pressing against yours, feeling the slight sprinkle of his hair moving against your smoothness, drove you absolutely insane. You pressed your hips up, meeting him thrust for thrust, holding onto his ass as he fucked you into the mattress.

You felt that slow burn, that spot of golden light between your legs grow and grow as he thrust harder and harder. The glow began to fill you, to take you over, to block out anything in the world but the two of you. The air was filled with the sounds of skin slapping on skin, the cries and moans out of the both of you, and the creaking of the bed. As it all got louder and louder, so did your passion and need for each other.

Your vision turned gold, and you just managed to get it out. "Bucky, I'm cumming, I-" before you exploded. You screamed to the heavens and all the angels, your back arching as the tremors passed through you. It went on and on, but somewhere in the midst of that you became aware that Bucky's thrusts were becoming more and more sloppy, and you felt him cum deep inside you, his warmth filling you. He cried out your name as he came, then partially collapsed on top of you, trying to make sure you were okay as you continued to press him into you, doing the same.

As you both came down from your insane high, gasping, muscles twitching, vision clearing as the moment passed, you couldn't think of anything else except one thing.

My whole life changes tonight.

Chapter 11

#mafia bucky #mafia bucky barnes x reader #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #mafia bucky x reader #mob boss bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky #mob boss bucky barnes #mob bucky barnes x reader #mob boss bucky barnes x reader #mob bucky x reader #mafia bucky barnes

[wntrs0ldier]

An Offer · part 11

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 4k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.), smut?

series masterlist

series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.

“Hey, Y/N.” A soft whisper brushed your ear and wrapped itself around your waking mind. “Hey, hey…” A gentle touch slid across your cheek, pulling out of sleep the remnants of consciousness fighting for further rest. Your lungs involuntarily filled with a bigger load of air; you opened your eyes, and they immediately found Bucky sitting beside you. He gave you a tender smile, his thumb relentlessly stroking your cheek.

“What?” you asked without much thought. Bucky seemed calm, so you saw no reason to panic either. His touch, this time instead of helping you stay awake, was pushing you towards falling asleep again. Your eyelids drooped, and you had little control over it – it was entirely his fault.

“Hey, stay with me,” Bucky ordered right away, his voice still soft, as if, contrary to the words spoken, he didn't want to disturb you at all. 

“But it's so warm and comfortable here…” 

His hand, which until then had been resting on your face, slipped under the covers. It touched your thigh, and though your eyes remained closed, the rest of your body was awakened by an explosion; a memory of the previous night. Bucky's hand moved higher and turned unexpectedly, his fingers unceremoniously pinching your cheek. You moaned, more in surprise than pain, then looked at Bucky with innocent reproach – he'd used something against you that you definitely liked, and you knew he wouldn't do anything about it. He had aroused not only your mind, but especially your body, and would leave you aching and craving again. But there was also something on his face that might indicate a different turn of events; the same rawness that you had observed the first time he appeared in your house that day had returned. It was as if your innocence and exposure were driving him into some kind of wild, nevertheless controlled madness.

Bucky pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. He swallowed hard at the lust you had also raised in him, and took his hands away. He got up from the bed and it was only then that you noticed he had already his clothes on. “Get dressed,” he grunted. “We have to get back to New York.”

You sat up on the mattress and glanced at the window – it was still dark outside. You grabbed your phone; it was almost three in the morning. You returned your gaze to Bucky, giving him a questioning, confused look, but he paid no more attention to you, too busy gathering up his stuff. “...Is something wrong?” 

“Timothy called,” he replied, and when he did, you already knew you had lost him. You'd lost smiley, relaxed Bucky; when you got to Vegas, he'd come back to life amongst the warmth, sunshine and all the softness you had for each other. And then all it took was one, probably cold and spiteful phone call from his uncle to destroy it; to kill that side of him. 

“Alright…” You nodded slowly. “And he wanted you to come back?”

“He said he needs me. Got a job for me.” He threw his sweats and t-shirt on the bed. “Put this on. Please,” he urged, thereby letting you know that he didn't have time for the rest of your questions. And you weren't quite sure what you should actually feel, but you weren't hurt. You were probably prepared for this; for life alongside a gangster. Bucky was now your husband, and although you had married on your own terms, your society had established a pattern that was imprinted in the two of you as well - however good you intended to be to each other; however much Bucky wanted to make you his equal, he was your husband – a specific, meaningful figure in your world – so you had to follow him, do everything he demanded and expected of you. And you weren't going to fight back, because you trusted him. Maybe not entirely – you still needed time – but you kept believing in his whole “Maybe my heart is in the right place. Maybe I want to do some good.”

It wasn't hard to guess that time played a key role, but you were only confirmed in this belief by the fact that you were returning to New York by plane, sent by Timothy. You still didn't know what he wanted from Bucky, but the matter seemed serious if he was taking such measures. And probably for the first time you realized what your mother really meant when she repeated to you like a mantra: Never marry a gangster. 

Because you were worried. You were worried about your husband, and you weren't sure how to deal with that feeling. It was so... unexpected. Or rather, the fact that it involved Bucky; tied to you in this untrue, loveless marriage. It turned out that you had a softer heart than you thought.

When you landed, a car was waiting for you. The driver, on Bucky's instructions, took you to an address you didn't know – one of New York's apartment complexes. You felt more and more lost, because you had the impression that instead of receiving information that would help your mind to function undisturbed by stress, you knew far too little. You could have asked – you could have asked anything, but you didn't want to throw Bucky off balance. You could see he was irritated enough and was doing his best not to unload on you. You weren't going to make it difficult for him.

Still, there were questions you couldn't keep quiet about. “Where exactly are we..?” You furrowed, watching Bucky turn the keys in the lock. 

He opened the door and let you through. “At my place,” he answered, closing the wooden lid behind him. He put your luggage on the floor, because although this time you managed to declare to him that you could handle your bag, he turned a deaf ear to it.

“Right…” You looked around hesitantly. For some reason, you didn't think he had his own place; mostly you'd find him at his family house, moreover, he had never mentioned having his own place before. Admittedly, he didn't mention owning a casino either. He didn't actually talk about anything until it came to the surface by itself. 

“Look…” Bucky murmured, checking something on his phone. Shortly afterwards, he turned it off and lifted his gaze to you. “I gotta see my uncle. Can you wait here for me?”

“Sure.” You smiled slightly. Apart from the fact that you didn't really have anywhere else to go, you wanted to stay here; to get to know better the space that belonged to Bucky. 

And he managed the same pained rise of the corners of his mouth. He only nodded, and after a moment he left the apartment. You didn't resent him for this at all – you knew there were priorities in your world, besides, in reality you and Bucky didn't function as a typical married couple, but more like co-workers. So, in theory, you didn't need to know; it should have been enough for you that your deal has been working; that it has been protecting you and your father's business. However, you couldn't help but feel that in all this you were also looking out for Bucky's wellbeing. Or maybe you cared mostly about that. And some part of you wanted to know everything; including how he felt.

Despite your suspicion that caffeine would fuel your anxiety, you decided to make yourself a coffee. You hadn't slept a wink on the plane, and now you didn't feel like sleeping either; the tension accompanying you, while draining you additionally, didn't allow you to rest. 

When the boiling coffee machine announced it was finished, you wrapped your hands around the cup, slurped a sip of the hot drink, the smell of which had already spread throughout the kitchen, and went for your rounds. You didn't particularly care if your behavior entered the territory of being nosy; the place belonged to your husband; the same one who had left you alone in it. So you gave yourself every right to search any corner if you wished.

Just as with the car, the apartment reflected the owner in some way; once you crossed its door, every choice seemed perfectly understandable. First of all, dark colors that were pleasantly soothing to the senses – deep shades of gray on the walls; anthracite or graphite, sometimes black, like the tiles in the kitchen; solid wooden panels in a cool shade of chocolate on the floors; mainly black furniture, silver, gray or dark blue accessories. The spaces were brightened only by large windows looking out largely onto other, equally tall buildings.

You finished your coffee, glancing around the interior of the living room, and thoughts were racing through your head – unanswered questions to yourself about whether this was where you would be living from now on, mixed with concerns about Bucky; was he safe? He was supposed to be with his uncle, but you didn't trust Timothy. What did he want from Bucky? Is he going to contact you or will he do what Timothy asks him to do without a word of warning? How long is it going to take? Is it really something serious? Dangerous?

Never marry a gangster.

You shake your head, as if that's going to help you clear up the chaos; as if that shake was going to sort out the whole mess. Back in the kitchen, you put the cup in the dishwasher, then headed to the bathroom. 

You felt a little better, washing off the hours spent on the plane; as streams of warm water ran down your sore, tired body. You reached up to a stone shelf, and came across more bottles than you thought you would; in addition to shower gel and shampoo, you found a hair conditioner.

You wrapped yourself in a fresh towel found in one of the cabinets, then left the bathroom with the intention of finding something to put on. However, you didn't manage to get to your bag; the door to the apartment opened and Bucky burst in. You didn't know if he had noticed you; he didn't even look in your direction, just grabbed his baggage from the floor, and without stopping, went to the bedroom. At first you stood there speechless – Bucky's abruptness caught you off guard; you also weren't sure if he had ignored you on purpose. But maybe it was better that way; you preferred not to get in his way. Nevertheless, after a moment, you followed him. 

Bucky walked from the bed to the wardrobe and back again, repacking his bag.

“What are you doing?” you spoke, but your voice sounded so weak and quiet that you weren't even sure if those words had actually left your mouth. Especially as he still wasn't paying attention to you. “Bucky?” you asked a little more firmly, and he glanced at you over his shoulder. “What’s going on? What are you-”

“I have to leave.”

Your lungs suddenly ran out of air, your eyes widened.

“Timothy wants me to monitor business in Italy,” he answered, nervously shoving some folded clothes into his bag. “Somehow, strangely enough, he suddenly stopped trusting our men there.” He almost snorted. 

Your lips parted involuntarily as you stared at his back. You barely consciously moved from your spot and approached Bucky. “For how long?”

“Few weeks, few months. I don't know. When he'll be satisfied enough with my work.”

You sat on the edge of the bed and stuck your eyes into the floor. “And you can’t say no.”

Bucky pressed his lips together. “I still owe him a debt. Besides, debt or not, my uncle is the head of the Family. And I crossed the line by marrying you behind his back.”

Your gaze tentatively returned to him. “He's punishing you for it..?”

He said nothing at first. He zipped up the bag, and for a brief moment you had the feeling that he was about to slam it against one of the walls.

“He'll make me break every promise I made to you,” Bucky claimed. He looked at you with what you could call fear if you knew the reason for it. One thing you were sure of – the tearing pain in his eyes. He regretted something; probably the fact that he had dragged you into this. “But I need you, Y/N.” Having stood between your legs, he dropped to his knees, his hands on your hips. “I fucking need you on my side.”

“Jamie-” You instinctively tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear in a soothing gesture. “I am on your side.”

“I don't know when I'll be back,” he repeated. “What if you'll have enough time to hate me?” His mouth twitched in a sad smile.

“I won't hate you,” you protested. “It's not your fault that you have to go. Our world is just built that way. And I get it.”

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head with clear disappointment; towards himself and the whole situation. He shifted slightly, then rested his head against your stomach, snuggling into your body. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You slid your fingers into his hair and brushed it tenderly. “It’s okay, Bucky. Really,” you whispered. He pulled back just enough to look at you. As your fingers rubbed his scalp with affection, his thumbs stroked your hips. “What if you’ll have enough time to find someone else?” you asked after a moment of silence.

“Y/N-” Bucky sighed with resignation.

“You know we are not with each other because of love,” you reminded, trying to talk some sense into him. “You want to be a good husband, and that's really great, but-” You gasped. “I don't want to get in your way. I don't want to stop you from finding what would really make you happy.”

Bucky's forehead furrowed, giving his face an offended expression. “So what? You're giving me permission to go there and cheat on you left and right?” His hands left your body and slipped on the mattress. 

“That's not what I said,” you objected right away. “And you told me practically the same thing. In your uncle’s garden.”

Bucky stared at you without even blinking. He chewed nervously on his bottom lip and shook his head, looking away for a moment. Shortly afterwards he gazed at you again. “Okay. Have it your way,” he replied. “You will be the first to know. But now I'm only yours. And you are mine as long as I am here.” He raised his hand to your cheek. Soon, however, he moved it to the back of your head to draw you closer; he pressed his lips to yours with a longing you already recognised; he kissed you for the first time since last night. And you weren't even taken aback; the gesture seemed so natural, so familiar and right.

Bucky rose from his knees, and as if by instinct you climbed onto the bed to make space for him. The mattress bent under his weight as he took the spot right in front of you. He laid another, this time a more tender kiss on your lips, then took off his sweatshirt; he didn't need to do that – the sudden desire was strong enough that you might as well satisfy it instantly, without unnecessary delay. But you were wearing only a towel, which was about to fall; Bucky craved to feel your naked skin against his own; to keep you company in total exposure.

You kissed him – slowly and sloppily – meanwhile reaching for his belt and managing to unbuckle it, wanting to assure him that you needed it too; that you were completely comfortable with the closeness he was initiating. 

Bucky pulled down his trousers and kicked them on the floor, and as his body pushed against yours, his lips traced a chaotic wet path on your neck. At one point, you even felt him grab a piece of your skin between his teeth; he sucked on it hard enough that you let out an involuntary whimper, and then irritated the sore spot with the tip of his tongue.

He sized you up with his eyes; your body stripped of its covering. You didn't feel as insecure as before – you weren't used to Bucky like that yet, but you were too absorbed in putting out your burning needs. “Fuck what I said earlier,” he rasped. “I'm not sharing you with anyone. And if that anyone happens, I'll fuck them out of your pretty little head.” He stretched his lips in a smirk, then leaned down and nuzzled your nose with his. “I can't get enough of you, baby,” he added, sinking into you without any warning. You both parted your lips; Bucky's breath stilled in his throat, and your back arched as you felt his whole cock inside you. 

His heated, heavy body brushed against yours; slowly at first, lazily even, so that he could watch your face, drinking in every little expression. And you looked at him – a little helplessly against the control he had over you, and with a hope, perhaps even a silent request, that he would be the one to fulfill this hunger he himself had aroused in you. And you knew; you could see it on his face, feel it in his every movement, that he had set himself just such a mission.

Soon his hips began pounding fast enough that your clashing, naked, sweaty bodies made that characteristic, heavenly sound – it filled the whole room, mixing with your moans and Bucky's panting. If at all possible, the combination was turning you on even more, intensifying the sensations his dick was giving you, sliding in and out in that rapid rhythm, his wet, hot lips wandering on your skin. You felt his hand suddenly clench on your hair, his teeth hooking lightly on the edge of your jaw; if he could, Bucky would absorb every bit of your body.

You didn't even know at what exact moment you wrapped your hand around Bucky's biceps; you realized this when you painfully dug your nails into it – painful for both of you, but also somehow releasing the sensations that had been building up inside you. They were piling up, and you weren't going to fight them this time either. As that seemingly familiar but actually new feeling exploded in the pit of your stomach, you tightly hugged Bucky and pulled him closer. You uncontrollably sank your teeth into his shoulder, and pure pleasure spread across his face.

With his head on your chest, Bucky was slowly climbing down from his high. You stroked his arm carefully with your knuckles, then brushed your fingertips over the mark of your teeth. 

“You’re a biter,” he murmured, feeling your touch in that spot. From the tone of his voice, you figured he was smiling while saying it. 

“Apparently,” you admitted with a little amusement. “How much time have you got?”

“Why? You want to get rid of me already?”

“I don't want to give Timothy any reason to punish us more than he already did.”

Bucky sighed heavily. He supported himself on his elbows, pulling his head away from your chest, and looked at you. You'd started the topic of Timothy again, and expected worry; that unsettling nervousness. Instead, Bucky stared at you with a gentle smile. “I wouldn't be myself if I didn't fuck with him at least a little,” he stated. “Besides…” He shrugged. “I'm saying goodbye to my wife, aren't I? And judging by his desire to have an heir, my uncle strongly respects family values.” He squinted, smiling insincerely.

You laughed, biting your bottom lip, then lifted your hands to his face. “And that's what you're going to tell him? That you were late because you were working on an heir?”

“Maybe,” Bucky said casually. Watching him with a tender grin, you stroked his cheeks with your thumbs, then carefully moved your finger down his nose; from bridge to tip. The expression on Bucky's face firmly softened – to some extent he even seemed surprised that someone had treated him with such gentleness. “Say it,” he whispered. 

“What?” This time, your thumb caressed his chin.

“That I'm yours. I need to hear it. I need to know that when I come back, I'll come back to you. To my girl.”

There was something painfully shattering about seeing him embraced by such helplessness, uncertainty about his own worth; about how you perceived him.

“I don't want to lose you,” he continued. “The thought of you, of you being there for me, is the only thing that will keep me sane, I-”

“It's okay. It's okay.” You smiled reassuringly, your hands returned to his cheeks. “You are mine, and I'm not going to look for anyone else, I promise. I'll wait for you as long as it takes, okay? I am not leaving you, Jamie.”

Bucky nodded. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your lips, immediately followed by another, much more filled with fear, insecurity, vulnerability. 

“I'll miss you,” you muttered into his mouth.

“And I will miss you. Very much.” He trailed his pecks down to your chin, your neck. One of his hands found its way between your thighs, parting them; without protest you spread your legs wider and he settled between them again. You felt his hardened cock rubbing against the inside of your thigh. You never imagined that you would affect someone so much, and knowing that you actually did put Bucky in a slightly different light; it created a new connection between you, based on intimacy and desire for each other. 

His length thrust into you again, and you whimpered as your eyes rolled back in your skull.

You got out of the car – a little sore and tired. Bucky grabbed his bag from the back seats, then reached for your hand, locking your fingers together. He didn't let it show, but you could sense that he was nervous.

A plane was already waiting on the large, empty lot; the property of the Barnes Family. Timothy was standing not far from the heavy machine, talking to the pilot; Steve was also there, but as soon as he spotted the two of you, he walked towards you.

“Y/N.” He nodded to you; you waved at him in response, plastering a slight smile on your face. 

To greet Steve, Bucky chose to drop his bag rather than let go of your hand. He put his free arm around Steve and patted him on the back. “Keep an eye on her, okay?”

“I will.”

Bucky released your hand, but only to move his arm down your back and pull you closer. You bumped against his body, resting your hands on his chest. “It'll be fine. Hmm?”

You wanted to believe it, but couldn't. That's why all you were able to do was smile sadly and press a tender kiss on his lips. Bucky rested his forehead against yours.

“I'll be waiting for you,” you said quietly, making him smile as well.

“I know.” He kissed your forehead, leaving his mouth there for a little longer than necessary. When he pulled away, he reached into the pocket of his leather jacket, then handed you the keys to the Mustang. “Here. Take care of it, alright?” 

“Alright,” you replied almost silently, lowering your gaze to the keys in your hand. As you lifted your eyes back to Bucky, you caught his stare. He looked at you with a soft smirk. You didn't say anything. Soon, however, he once again joined your lips.

“I gotta go.” He placed a kiss on the back of your hand, having brought it to his mouth, then pulled away and headed toward the plane. You pressed your trembling lips together, watching him. And again you felt that unpleasant coldness of being left alone.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @buckysgirl01 @emily-roberts @prettylittlepluviophile @leaaa008 @itvy5601 @melsunshine @pattiemac1 @marvel-fandom23 @rabbitrabbit12321 @xsecretsirenx @heyyitsreign @xhollycowx @samfreakingwinchester @thrnlvr @samjuarezzz @loustan90 @kandis-mom @abaker74 @gabshouse @casa-boiardi @globetrotter28 @fand0mskullfa1ry @iateall-yourcookies @swordofawriter

#mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #mob bucky #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky x y/n #mafia!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #mafia bucky #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine

[stardustdreams-andcaffeine]

In the Blink of an Eye | Bucky Barnes (Mafia AU)

mafia!bucky barnes x f!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: With Bucky Barnes, the mafia lord of New York, as your boyfriend, you're usually safe from any and all harm. With a date night gone wrong and your boyfriend distracted, though, anything can happen in the blink of an eye.

A/N: Another one of my favorites because come on, who doesn't love mob Bucky? If you couldn't tell by now, angst is my thing lol, but I'm working on some fluffier oneshots! True to my word, this one's a reader insert for all you lovelies, enjoy and as always keep dreaming 🤍

Warnings: mafia!Bucky, violence, angst, kidnapping, drugging, language, mentions of torture, fluffy ending because I just can't help myself.

Word Count: 5,896

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I knew the dangers when I started. I knew the risks. I welcomed them, I embraced them. They did not scare me and they haven't even now, so many months later.

We always seem to think we know ourselves so well, that we know what we'd do in every situation. I thought I knew.

Then I fell in love.

When you're in love, well, everything changes. For the first time, there's another person that you cannot live without. For the first time, you begin to realize just how far you'd go to keep that love, to strengthen it. I used to avoid love, used to think it was worthless.

Then I met Bucky Barnes, Wolf of the North and mafia lord of New York, and I fell harder than I ever have before.

I love him more than anything else in my life, and so I took on the risks willingly. When you love someone that deeply, that ardently, nothing is a risk. Besides, I knew that he would do everything in his power to protect me. Bucky would never let anything bad happen to me.

That's where I went wrong. Not in overestimating him, but underrating what can happen in the blink of an eye.

"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"

He acts as though he's heard me, but his eyes are glued to the phone in his hand as we weave through the crowds in the New York night. He never usually ignores me like this, and even though I'm growing annoyed, I'm hurt by his lack of attention too.

"We'll be fine, even if he is he wouldn't be stupid enough to try anything" Bucky brushes off, not even looking up from his phone. I let out a small huff as we approach the front of the bar and nightclub he owns.

Before we make it to the doors, I grab his well-muscled arm and gently tug him to face me. He looks up now, his usually softened ice blue eyes plagued with business and stress.

"I thought tonight was just for us, my love" I remind. Something softens in his gaze but he ices it down and doesn't as much as touch me.

"It is, but I have some business to attend to first" his gravelly voice replies.

"Business?" I ask, lifting an eyebrow and smiling softly at him, "You can get business any night, but I-"

"Just give me ten minutes, Y/N." my boyfriend interrupts, and if it were any other day I'd say something back. Too exhausted from work to want an argument, though, I simply sigh and decide to show him patience.

"Alright, you have 10 minutes."

We walk inside, but before we do I cast one more glance back towards the man who I saw following us. My heart hits the floor when my eyes connect directly with his across the street. His mousy brown hair and disheveled brown leather jacket and white shirt set me on edge, so I quickly turn around and follow Bucky into his club.

As soon as I'm back by his side, he presses a gentle but burning hand to my back, his touch, however small, still intoxicating me after all this time. Normally, he'd lean over and whisper sweet nothings or promises of love in my ear and I'd shiver at the whisper of his voice so near, but now he barely even touches me. His mind is so preoccupied with work, I know that, but it has been all week since this weekend is his rival's gala.

But I feel ignored and unappreciated and it's killing me.

The pounding music of the club wraps around me, making it harder to keep my thoughts straight. Bucky and I walk straight to the back of the club, where his business no doubt waits. He pulls away from me without so much as a goodbye, and my heart tugs. Quickly I grab his hand, making him glance at me.

"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out," I repeat, and I know he said I'll be fine but I need him to be here with me, "Please, stay with me."

"Doll, you're gonna be fine. Now-"

I cut him off, getting frustrated.

"No Bucky! I can fight, sure, but if he-" I interrupt, only for him to cut me right back off.

"Drop it, Y/N. Just go to the bar or something" Bucky growls, pulling out of my grip and walking into the office without a single glance back at me.

My heart cracks.

He's never like this, ever. He's usually so protective it's overbearing, and yet the one time I need that to feel secure, he refuses. I can take care of myself, but I'm not stupid. And no matter how capable and independent I may be, Bucky brings a level of safety to me that I can't describe.

And yet here he is, leaving me alone in his bar with someone following us.

I huff out a sigh and try not to look too forlorn as I traipse over to the bar. Almost as soon as I've arrived and sat at an open bar stool, the bartender who has become somewhat of a friend over the last few months approaches me.

"And how is my favorite customer?" He asks, his hands busy preparing a drink. I shrug, offering him a soft smile.

"I'm alright, Lee," I respond, playing with the edge of my sleeve, "Just a whiskey please."

"Sure thing, Y/N," Lee says, his brows furrowed as he steps away to make my drink. When the glass slides in front of me, I grab onto it with tired fingers.

"So, do you want me to ask what's really going on or do you want me to believe the lie?" The bartender asks, making me raise my gaze from the amber liquid and to my friend's face. He must see the tears gathering in my eyes because a hint of concern grows. I never break like this.

"Believe the lie, please" I nearly whisper, desperate to not have this conversation right now. Lee stares at me for a second longer before nodding.

"Let me know if you need anything else."

When he walks away to take care of another customer, I'm left feeling alone and forgotten in my boyfriend's bar. I sip on the alcohol and seconds turn to minutes, and ten minutes soon becomes twenty. I feel patience slipping and am seconds away from barging into that room and giving my boyfriend a piece of my mind when another voice pipes up beside me.

"I thought tonight was date night," The voice says, and I can't put a face to it. When I turn, the haze of alcohol clears instantly and my spine snaps straight. The music dulls into a hum. The lights grow darker. The color leeches from my body. My hand trembles around the almost empty glass.

It's him. He's got the same messy hair, the same brown jacket. The same hungry eyes.

Instantly, I clamp down hard on my rising panic. I refuse to fall into hysterics of any kind right now. This is the safest place for me to be right now, so I should have nothing to worry about. Instead, I simply shake my head and turn forward, downing the last of my second whiskey.

"You're another kind of stupid if you think anything is going to happen to me in here," I inform, my tone even and calm despite the throbbing, tearing panic within me that makes me want to sprint for Bucky.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm not going to do anything," the man responds, his tone just as even as mine.

I furrow my brows at the ease of his response, but all at once it hits me. My head begins to spin and with each second that passes, my mind begins to fog. No. No. No.

He drugged me.

How did he get it into my drink?

How did I not see it? Smell it? Taste it?

I shove out of my chair so fast that the stool screeches against the hard floor. The sound is absorbed into the mass of the club, though, and an arm snakes around my waist.

"No," I manage out, but the connection between my body and brain seems to be almost severed. The words come out sluggish and far away and when I try to pull from the stalker's hold, my body barely moves.

Instead, I'm left stumbling like I'm drunk with this man guiding me towards the exit as if he's helping me to a cab. The bouncers. Ed and Damien, they won't let him take me. They'll stop him, they'll get him away from me.

"Don't make a scene, Y/N. Your boyfriend isn't even out of his office." My kidnapper's voice slithers into my ear, making my stomach church with nausea.

My boyfriend. Bucky. Oh God, where is Bucky? Why can't I seem to remember where Bucky went? Why he's not here? Why I was alone?

"Bucky, Bucky's gonna-" I slur out, sounding absolutely wasted to the unknowing ear.

"I know, Mr. Barnes going to be so glad I got you home safely," he says suddenly, his entire body shifting tone. I furrow my brows and manage to look and see us just passing Ed and Damien at the door. Even though I can really see straight, I see the two bouncers block the exit when they see me.

"Hey man, what's going on?" I hear Ed ask.

"Nothing much to see, Boss just wanted me to take his lady home," the stalker says, his grip on me tighter than it must appear, "She had a little too much to drink."

Too much to drink? Did I? Why can't I remember what's happening? I didn't think I did but...but maybe I did. Who is this man? He said he's taking me home, maybe Bucky had to cancel date night. It was date night, right?

Both Ed and Damien furrow their brows and look to me, immediate concern drawing on their features when they see the state of me. Some lucid part of me screams to alert them of something, anything, but the thought doesn't come to fruition. It dies somewhere along a neuron and leaves me tripping over my own feet and speechless.

"I've never seen you before, man. How do we know that boss told you to take her home?" Damien asks. My escort doesn't miss a step.

"The Wolf is in states nowadays, isn't he boys?" The stalker replies, and that lucid part sparks up again in protest at the familiar words. That's the code phrase to ensure safety in moments like this.

He knows the code phrase.

They're going to let him take me.

I do what I can to struggle as Ed and Damien step aside, but it only comes across as trying to walk on my own, because the bouncers chuckle slightly.

"Relax Y/N, don't overdo it" Ed quips.

"Rest up, miss. I'll let boss know you got home safely." Damien follows up.

And the lucid part of me fades into the drug haze as my kidnapper guides me out of the safest place on earth without so much of a gun fight. The cool night air slaps me in the face and I whisper, trying to struggle again only to forget why I'm struggling in the first place. My body feels like I'm running through neck-high mud, anyways. Any sharp movements I try to make end in my hands barely moving.

"Bucky," I breathe, an urgency in that word. Beyond the haze and the forgetfulness and the confusion, there's a deep and piercing need to scream out that name. I can't figure out why, but I need him. I can't...I need...

My head's spinning, or maybe it's the world. My stomach is twisting and turning and twisting and turning and tw-

"He can't save you now. He didn't even put up a fight to protect you," that ugly, slimy voice says as a car door opens, "What a shame. A treasure like you should be guarded. But I guess finder's keeper's."

Then I'm shoved into a car and everything goes black.

||| James Buchanan Barnes

Y/N's going to actually kill me. As in my liver on a plate kill me.

The meeting that I promised would only be ten minutes has now gone for forty, and by now she's probably restless, hungry, and a little tipsy.

Great, and I pissed her off earlier so tonight is going to be so much fun.

I pull a hand through my dark hair with a slight groan as the man I was doing business with finally leaves my office. I sit for a second in the semi-quiet of my room, the pounding of music and laughter dulled by the walls. I know I shouldn't have gotten short with her earlier, but damn she wouldn't let up on me with the whole "stalker" thing.

My club is the safest place for her. I would never let anything happen to her, so for her to even think that...I sigh again, shoving it from my mind. It doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is finding my girlfriend and making all of this shit up to her. I rise from my leather chair and walk out of my office, the dulled sounds roaring into full force.

My eyes immediately shoot towards the bar to find my girl only to see an absence of her. With furrowed brows, I sweep my gaze towards the dance floor. Even crowded with people, I don't see her. I roll my eyes instantly, knowing what probably happened. She probably went home, probably's pissed as hell at me. I brush off my suit jacket and walk up to Lee at the bar, immediately garnering his attention. He smiles at me.

"Hey boss, can I get you anything?" He asks.

"No I'm good, thanks Lee," I respond, leaning on the bar with one arm and pinching the bridge of my nose, "Have you seen Y/N? I think I pissed her off."

There's a pause that makes me look over at my bartender. He's looking at me weirdly as he slides a drink to a customer and laughs slightly.

"Real funny, boss," Lee says, cleaning out a few glasses. I straighten up slightly, my brows furrowing deeper and my jaw setting.

"What's so funny, Lee? Have you seen her or not?" I ask, quickly losing my patience. I always thought he had a thing for her, always was too-

"Are you fucking with me right now?" Lee asks genuinely, cutting off my thoughts. When I don't respond, he realizes I'm not joking and his face goes grave, "So you didn't send her home twenty minutes ago?"

The world tilts around me and every ounce of anger, annoyance, and frustration leaves me in an instant. My heart drops like an anchor at sea and I don't dare to believe what Lee's words mean.

"She left twenty minutes ago," I begin slowly, trying desperately to hold myself together and not jump to a conclusion, "With someone who said I sent them to take her home."

Lee's face is slowly falling as he realizes the situation at hand. I feel so sick to my stomach that I can barely stand when Lee gives a faint nod. My world stops and then starts and then stops again.

"I never gave that order." I breathe.

"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"

I brushed her off.

"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out. Please, stay with me."

I ignored her. I snapped at her. I prioritized work over the light of my life. I told her she'd be fine.

I left her.

Lee is saying something to me but I don't hear it as I shove away and storm over to Ed and Damien, my bouncers. My face is a painting of fury and shame and worry and panic and it's a storm that catches Ed and Damien's attention. They stop what they're doing and look to me, their brows furrowing.

"Boss, what's-"

"You let her leave?" I strangle out, my heart slamming in my chest and my fists balled by my sides, "You let a stranger take her away?"

The two share a confused glance before looking back to me.

"A stranger? Boss, the man who took Y/N home knew the code," Ed informs.

"Did you not send him?" Damien suddenly asks, his face tightening in instant panic.

He knew the code. He knew the code and he somehow got my doll, my fighter, out without so much of a warning.

And it's all my fault.

"Shut the club down, get everyone out. Call together all of our forces. Tell them-" My voice breaks, raw emotion clawing up my throat, "Tell them Y/N's been taken."

I don't wait for a response and shove out into the cold night, gasping for air like a fish out of water. I was so obsessed with the gala this week that Hydra, our arch nemesis, was putting on, that I stopped paying attention to the only part of my life that matters. I have a lot of things, all of which I could live without, but I cannot live without her.

And I left her.

I left her and now she's gone.

She tried to warn me, she tried to tell me someone was following us. She tried to get me to stay with her, to not leave her. And yet I walked away. I just walked away like she didn't even matter and I left vulnerable and alone the only person in this entire fucking universe I love. It's all my fault, and I'll spend every second of the rest of my life trying to make it up to her.

If I can even find her in time, before she-

No. I will find her and she will live. I will burn down this whole damn world if I have to, and I will not stop. Not until every person who laid a finger on my girl is dead. I will paint the world crimson with their blood until I find her, and once I do I will never, never, ignore or leave her again.

That's not a threat. It's a promise.

||| Your POV

The collar secured to my throat is too tight, the metal no doubt leaving red grooves in my skin.

It hurts worse when Alexander Pierce, the mafia lord of Hydra, tugs the matching chain leash attached to it, pulling me closer to him and almost making me stumble mid-step.

The gala is glamorous, and my gown is nothing short of it as well. Pierce even went through the trouble of having someone do my hair. What he didn't do was my makeup.

That way anyone could see the dried blood and bruises littering my skin.

It's a scare tactic, I know that. A way to signal to everyone here that he's in charge and that he can't be defied. But I think he's got a bigger reason in mind for it all, the collar and the hideous marks on my skin.

And that reason is my boyfriend.

I can practically feel people's eyes follow me as I walk as steadily as I can at the end of Pierce's leash. Despite the radiating, excruciating pain that each step incurs, I keep my body steady and my chin high. I let the policemen and officials that are on his payroll and all of the members of his mafia see my bruises and cuts. He's parading me, so I'm going to put on a damn show.

A show to hide how mind-numbingly terrified I am right now.

Behind my set jaw and my cold eyes, I'm fighting back tears. The pain is mixing with the fear of the last few days to make a perfect storm within me. I'm terrified that any moment could be my last, that more pain could await me, that Bucky might never come for me

Or worse. That he doesn't even care.

Regardless of whether or not he cares, I'm still not going to give a single detail out. Even when Pierce himself tortured me until all I knew was blood and pain and fear, I said nothing. He didn't get a single word out of me. I just sat there, strapped to an iron chair, and took it. Every blow, every slice, every shout. At times my mind spared me and allowed me to slip into the sweet nothingness of unconsciousness, but it wouldn't be long after that I awoke to my head shoved into cold water to revive me.

And here I am, now taking a seat at the Dias of his gala room beside the mafia lord of Hydra, my boyfriend's sworn rival, with a collar around my neck tied to his wrist.

The music that wafts from the live orchestra is disturbingly jovial and light, filling the air with a sense of peace that provides such a stark juxtaposition to my insides that I almost puke. I sit ever so stiffly in my chair beside Pierce, my back burning with each movement because of the new stripes across its tender flesh.

As I feel warm liquid slide down my skin, I suddenly understand why Pierce insisted my dress be a dark maroon. I thought it was as at first just a beacon to everyone to show who I was with because it was his signature color, but I know better now. It's to hide the blood that seeps from my still-healing and probably infected wounds.

"Exquisite, isn't it?" Pierce asks, and I don't even have to turn towards him to know he wears a devilish smirk. A cruel man's trademark of victory.

I stay silent.

I hear him click his tongue as he sits back in his ornate chair, "All this quality time together and all I've heard from your voice has been your screams. No matter how pretty they are, doesn't seem polite to me."

This time, I can't hold myself back.

"Neither is kidnapping another human being and treating them like a prisoner of war," I announce, my voice raw and hoarse from the screaming and shouting of the past few days, "So pardon me if I'm not feeling too polite."

It's a bold move, but I make it anyways, gambling that he wouldn't lash out in the midst of his party. A little breath of relief escapes me when he chuckles.

"And here I was under the impression you were a sweet, soft-spoken sort of woman. My sources misjudged you." Pierce responds.

Of course he's been watching me. A scheme like this doesn't happen overnight. He's been planning this for a while, now. Pierce knew exactly when Bucky would be most vulnerable, when the defenses would be the loosest. It makes me want to scream.

"You're going to die for this," I whisper, quietly but not softly. There's his laugh again.

"Oh honey," Pierce starts, his voice condescending as if I were a toddler, "Careful with blind faith. What makes you so sure Barnes will make it out of this alive?"

His words unsettle something so deep within me that if I spend more than a few seconds touching on it, I'll shatter. Instead, I turn to look at Alexander Pierce for the first time since we've sat down. My eyes are cold and harsh upon him and the shining metal of the collar that tethers us.

"What makes you so sure it will be Bucky who kills you?"

He has the good sense to look the slightest bit unnerved, and I give him a smirk of my own, "Like you said before, your men sorely misjudged me."

Before he can respond, one of the guards that stands behind us steps forward and whispers something in the mafia lord's ear. Whatever he says makes Pierce grin fiercely as he looks back to me and gives the collar a tug.

"Your White Wolf is here."

My heart jumps so hard that I forget how to function. For a moment, everything else fades and dims away, even the biting pain wrapping me like a blanket of thorns. I snap my head back forward and when I see him I swear I almost break right then and there.

Because his eyes are already on me, and they're coated with fury.

It takes every ounce of strength I have to not dissolve into tears, to not let my fear show.

He's here.

He's here.

Bucky found me.

When our eyes meet, something so primal and raw ignites in his features. He looks seconds away from shattering as his chest heaves, his eyes scouring every inch of me. I feel undone before him, as if the dress doesn't hide a single thing that Pierce and his men have done to me.

"James Barnes," Pierce announces, snapping the connection between us swiftly, "I thought you'd never come. I hope you don't mind, I think I've stolen your date for the evening."

Then he wraps his palm around the chain leash and yanks it so hard that I nearly tumble out of the chair. His hand is there to stop me as it grabs my jaw in a bruising grip. Pierce hums, turning my face side to side before forcing it forward to the crowd that now watches. Bucky is painted with dark rage and looks seconds away from ending Pierce's life.

"She makes quite the pretty pet."

Bucky begins to storm forward only for two of the guests who belong to Pierce's mafia to grip onto his arms and prevent him.

"Take your fucking hand off of her, Pierce, or I swear I'll-" Bucky growls, and hearing his voice is enough to ease some of the knot that's wound in my chest these last few days.

"You'll what?" Alexander asks, releasing my chin but remaining ever so calmly in his seat beside me, "You must not care that much for my pet, after all you were the one to ignore her."

There's a bone-crushing silence and I see that same something shatter in my love's gaze.

"You shoved her off, you left her alone," Alexander cuts out, reaching out and running a hand through my hair, "You so carelessly let her slip through your fingers and here you are pretending to care."

"What I did was unforgivable, I know that," Bucky says suddenly, and I see even from here the silver lining his eyes as he speaks, "But she is a good person. She doesn't deserve this. If you need to punish someone, don't let it be her."

"You don't deserve her," Pierce says, and I want to scream that he's wrong but Bucky cuts me off. His eyes clash with mine and I fall in love all over again.

"I know," he says so softly that I almost miss it. I try to shake my head 'no', but Pierce tightens the collar, making me whimper.

Bucky shoves off the two men holding him, composing himself and standing stiffly a good ways before us.

"Let her go, Pierce," Bucky reiterates, his tone harsh once more and his stare pure murder, "I won't ask again."

Pierce clicks his tongue beside me, letting up on my leash to let me relax slightly.

"Oh Barnes, did you really waltz in here thinking you'd walk back out?"

There's a deadly silence and I swear you can hear my heart smash into the floor even though I expected this. With every second between his last words and his next, I grow more panicked.

"I have you surrounded, Barnes. You're not getting out of this," Pierce announces. Bucky doesn't look the least bit unnerved, though.

Pierce reaches you to an ear piece I didn't know was there and touches it, "Guns at attention."

From my spot next to him, all I hear is static. There's no response coming back, and the confusion becomes evident on Alexander's face at the same moment I realize what's going on. Hope like a new sunrise breaks in me and I look over at Bucky to find him smirking. He winks at me once before furrowing his brows at Pierce.

"What's wrong, can't reach your men?" Bucky taunts.

And then all Hell breaks loose.

Guns are firing and people are screaming and within seconds, Bucky's mafia that's already infiltrated the gala hall appears from the woodwork, their guns raised and keeping the few mafia members left under gun point. Bucky just stands coolly in the midst as another deadly silence blankets the room. I can practically feel the rage draining off of Alexander.

"Get him!" Pierce suddenly shouts, and what few men are left charge at Bucky. Including the personal guards around us. The gunfire begins again, and the classy event is soon painted crimson.

I take the brief moment of chaos to my advantage and shoot up from my seat. As soon as Pierce registers that I'm moving, it's too late. Despite the screaming of my body, I sprint behind Pierce's chair and brace one heeled foot at its back. Then, before he can reach for a gun, I wrap the leash he's collared me with around his neck and pull back, strangling him with the own device he subjected me under.

His hands claw desperately at the chain and I feel my exhausted muscles trembling, but I refuse to let up. I keep holding the chain tighter and snap my gaze up in Bucky's direction just in time to see him shoot a guard between the eyes.

"Bucky!" I shout, gaining his attention instantly.

I know I can't hold Pierce off much longer, so Bucky will need to help me take him down while I've got him strangled to the chair. The metal is cutting deep into his skin when Bucky begins fighting desperately to reach us. Before he can, though, Pierce gets a purchase on the chain and yanks with such force that it sends my body flying over him and the chair. I land flat on my back so hard on the tile that the air rushes out of my lungs and every cut and tear rips open.

"Y/N!" Bucky roars, and it rattles my very bones

I gasp and groan in pain simultaneously, desperately trying to get air into my lungs. The second I can breathe again, Pierce is dragging me backwards by the chain.

"No!" I shout, reaching up and gripping the chain before yanking it.

We tug back and forth as he drags me, but I manage to hook my foot around one of the overturned chairs and use the leverage to yank the chain so hard that I hear a snap followed by a shrill yell.

I just broke his wrist.

When I pull again, the chain comes free and a weight lifts from my shoulders. I scramble to my feet, about to sprint away and towards where I last saw Bucky when Pierce's hands grip my shoulders and rip me back. I don't even have time to scream when my back is slammed into a hard wall and Pierce is before me, a knife in his unmangled hand that's pressed to my cheek.

"You little bitch" he seethes.

My chest is heaving with breath and panic as I read back and spit in his face as hard as I can. He recoils slightly and I relish in it. My happiness only lasts a second, though, because his knife is pressing into my cheek. I try to squirm but his body is pressed firmly to mine and pins me to the wall.

"I so didn't want to end you this quickly," Pierce whispers, his voice slithering against my skin.

I keep trying to be strong, to be so strong, but it's getting harder to keep up. I try to not show my fear, but it's getting harder and harder to hide. I feel myself finally breaking after the hell that these last few days have been and just when I think he's going to end it all, he's gone. In a moment, he's off of me and unconscious on the ground.

And Bucky is standing before me, his chest heaving and his eyes wild.

"Bucky," I breathe, already feeling my strength slip away.

I don't have to be strong anymore.

Bucky drops the gun he just rendered Pierce unconscious with, every inch of his face softening upon my bloody, trembling form. He looks a minute away from crying when I stumble forward and crash into him, letting myself break down in his arms that already wrap around my waist and keep me upright. He keeps me so tight to himself that there is no room between us. I bury my face into his neck and let out a sob, my tears mixing with the blood on his suit. I can't tell which of us is shaking harder, but all I can tell is the warmth and security that Bucky's hands bring me.

"Oh doll," Bucky whispers, sending a shiver down my spine, "You're alive. You're alive."

I mumble some sort of affirmation, but I can barely think straight.

"I'm so sorry, doll. I'm so sorry." Bucky repeats it over and over again, "God, Y/N I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Buck. It's alright," I whisper, but he keeps shaking his head. He pulls back far enough to meet my gaze.

"I've been shitty to you. I should've listened to you, I should never have left you. I am never leaving you again."

"It's okay, I forgive you," I repeat, brushing a bloody hand against his jaw, "Of course it's gonna cost you at least four new pairs of shoes."

At my joke, a laugh of pure relief to have me back in hands escapes his lips. I chuckle softly too, taking in every inch of his breathtaking face. A tear drops down his cheek and he leans his forehead against mine.

"I love you so much, I love you more than life." he breathes.

"I love you too. That's all that kept me breathing, loving you,"I respond, and his lips are on mine in an instant.

Even though it's only been a few days, kissing him feels like I've been in a drought and he's my water. The kiss is desperate and pleading and consuming. It steals whatever strength is left in my knees and I link my arms around his neck to support myself. When he finally pulls away, he leaves a trail of kisses to my nose and then my forehead before tugging me to himself again.

"I'm going to tear him apart for this," Bucky vows, and I know it shouldn't but I still let out a breath of relief at that.

"Is that why he's not dead yet?" I ask, chuckling softly. He does the same, kissing the top of my head.

"That's exactly why," Bucky agrees, pulling back and rubbing a finger along my cheek. He becomes serious again and I feel my heart flutter.

"When I found out you were gone, I lost myself." He says, his throat bobbing as he Cho's my face with his large hands, "Y/N, there is no me without you"

I turn to kiss his hand before leaning into it more.

"I'll always find my way back to you. You're all I have, James"

Another tear works down his cheek before he finally steps to the side. The gala is trashed, but the gunfire is over. Apparently, his men were here hours before anyone else got here. I feel my strength abandoning me, so I lean my weight onto Bucky. He feels this and immediately scoops me into his arms, holding me close to his chest.

"I'm going to kiss every one of these scars when we get back" His voice rumbles, and I smile as I lean my head further into him.

"Let's go home, my love"

And he held up his promise. He never left me again.

#bucky #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #bucky au #bucky barnes #mafia!bucky #mob!bucky #mafia #mafia bucky #mob bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #angst #grovelling #mafia au #au #mob!bucky x reader #mafia!bucky x reader #oneshot #bucky barnes oneshot

[binkszamsstuff]

Girl of my dreams

Arranged marriage au/ Mob au

Angst, cheating,smut, fluff, breeding kink, pregnancy, others but I'm tired and lazy also not edited/ proof read💀😬 18+,

Many times she thought of leaving, many ways to never look back. But the walls forbid it and so did her husband. Being married to a Mafia man was hard but there were harder things in life then to watch him cheat. An arranged marriage was what her parents thought would bloom into love only for heartbreak.

They never really loved, but they did fight constantly. He said she took away his freedom to fuck, she said he took away her freedom to love. Both were right, both were wrong. Until one night changed the two -almost as if sight had smacked them on their heads.

She walked into his office a red haired woman sat on his lap, she was dressed in fine clothes obviously a payment from him for her late night work. He had his reading glasses perched on his nose reading something on his computer, his left hand rubbing the woman's hip.

They didn't move an inch when y/n walked in, they didn't care who saw them together everyone knew they didn't want to be married, so what's the harm knowing he was in love with another woman.

"I'm leaving tonight, I have a gala. I'm taking Steve and the Mercedes goodbye" his wife said then walked out dismissively.

James had one job and that was to provide y/n with protection and to keep her married to him. James' father and hers only made this marriage for beneficial things, like money.

So y/n was required to take a bodyguard everywhere she went. James had just looked up from his computer to get the last glimpse of his wife in her tight fitting classy dress. Her hair blown out with volume and bounce, the dress she wore shaped her bottom perfectly. His eyes followed her out, his lips slightly parting,

"yes alright" was all he said.

The woman who sat on his lap was growing impatient. "Thank God she's gone! When will you finally get rid of her?" The woman asked.

"Never. You know this" he spoke illy towards her.

The woman scoffed. "But you love me, so why can't this be done? It's been three years and I'm tired of being the side piece. The villain, well people pity her. I'm the one who doesn't get the life she wants! I'm the one living, having to watch you be married to someone else."

"Natasha stop! I don't love her, I don't kiss her, or fuck her. I barely speak to the woman and when I do all we do is argue so please don't pull that on me." James was now rubbing his fingers on his forehead trying to relax the headache.

When the night was over, y/n and Steve came home giggling at the mischief they caused. James sat on the couch, his dark eyebrows drawn in a grim frown on his face.

"What are you two laughing about?" James spoke.

"n-nothing just something funny that happened at the gala" Steve brushed off.

"Was it y/n, that funny?" James spoke once again, his tone sounding hard, aggressive.

"yes it was"

"goodnight y/n, it was lovely spending time with you" Steve said kissing her check.

She blushed saying a shy "thank you Stevie"

Steve left leaving her and her husband alone.

"I'm going to bed, sweet dreams James" she spoke softly to him. She might not be his love but once at the beginning of their marriage she did love him. She tried to make it work but one day she had walked in the house after shopping for their one year anniversary only to be met with James and Natasha naked in front of the fire place having a romantic time.

Tears streamed down her face and all James did when he saw her was smirk. He hated her then, truly couldn't stand to be near her, that was two years ago now he almost wishes she was around more often. Now she was cold distant towards him, she only seemed to be the giddy, sweet, caring, and lovable girl she once was with Steve. She used to be that way with him.

That night James stayed up, sitting in his California king bed. Alone. The cold air seeped into the room from the open windows. He sat leaned up against the headboard, his journal in hand. Before James was forced into the mob by his father he dreamed of writing. As a young man, he would write stories of love, he was a hopeless romantic. He dreamt; of becoming a writer, finding the love of his life. But at the age of 21 his dreams were shot down.

Ever since he married his y/n, James' writings were surrounded by her. The love stories, no longer about the red haired woman -natasha. Every fantasy about what his life could have been was still filled with his wife.

Tonight he seemed to only be able to write her name. Endlessly.

Y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n, Y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n -the woman who holds the embers of my heart. My wife.

The following week james watched y/n and Steve dance around the kitchen with old songs. How he purposely left his study door open so he could hear her; sing, talk to herself, laugh. It always brought a smile on his face. Things were changing in him.

James was not the only one to notice, Natasha did too. Whenever she came over James would hardly touch her, speak to her. Always bored 'wow's' 'oh's' and 'okay'.

To say she was mad was an under statement.

Natasha walked into the house with her keys in hand. Y/n was in her comfy home clothes doodling in her notebook, she sat perched in the kitchen window seat. Natasha rolled her eyes walking furiously towards James' study.

Natasha said with anger "What the hell is wrong with you?"

James did nothing, not even looking up from his computer.

"Natasha, please I'm working." He huffed out a sigh. Natasha was really making him lose his creative wind.

"No! You have barely talked to me! Touched me! What the hell is going on?" She demanded.

James stood up in a swift motion. His blue eyes now are hard and cold. Unforgiving.

"That's it! I can not do this nat! I loved you for a very long time natasha...but now I don't." Natasha gasped taking a step back.

"Nat I'm so sorry but we aren't good for each other anymore. You want to marry, I don't. You don't want children, I do. We fight more than we do anything else. I don't want to remember you like this so I'm asking you to leave. Please give me your key to my wife's and i's home." James now had a solemn expression on his face.

"This is about her uh? You told me you would never love her! It was supposed to be me!"

"Natasha I hope you find someone who will love forever, and I...was wrong..I think I've loved her since the first time I saw her." Natasha through her key at him and ran out of the house.

James was so stupid, If he could have realized that he did love y/n since he first saw her walking down the aisle. and to not let the betrayal for his father blind him so much he could hurt the woman he's loved since first sight. She was the woman he dreamed of all his life. Is it too late for him to wake up and fix his mess?

Y/n sat at the breakfast table alone watching out the window, her peaceful morning was dull until the chair in front of her scaped against the floor. Then groaning as James sat in it. A confused look came a upon her face he never sat with her at breakfast, she didn't even see him in the mornings.

"What are you doing?" She asked him quietly almost as if she was whispering to keep a secret.

"I'm having breakfast at my table, can I not do that?" He sassed back at her.

"y-yes you can, but I'm here." This time she spoke a little louder.

"so? Your my wife"

Y/n almost laughed outwards at him. "So? You hate me!" She chuckled while shaking her head.

"I don't hate you, y/n" she almost froze she had never really heard him say her name, he almost always referred her as 'she', 'her' and occasionally 'bitch'. The two are in silence, but not awkward, comfort. The pair really didn't know what to do with themselves, do they make small talk? No their married no married couple uses small talk, well they weren't in love, do they talk business? No y/n didn't work in the Mafia, do they argue? No nether wanted to end the softness. No they sat in slience. Until James remembered why he came to sit with her.

"your birthday is coming up, in what a week?" James said flatly.

"You know my birthday?" She said again in disbelief for the second time that morning.

James rolled his eyes "yes, of Crouse I do, what do you want?"

"Um ahh, you don't have to get me anything you haven't any of the other years it's alright" she said, she didn't mean to make him feel guilty but the way she said it's so nonchalantly, so casual. She was used to being nothing in his life.

"I want to give you something" he said still acting like this wasn't the most kindest he's ever been to her through out the three years of marriage.

"we'll make-up, or shoes," she said shyly.

"Your turning 21, what no booze?" He said amused.

"No I don't drink, even when I turn of age." He didn't know the reason why, and that bothered her.

"A-alright then shoes and make-up" he got up putting his plate away, James awkwardly straighted his suit jacket.

"goodbye y/n"

"goodbye James"

The next couple of days y/n and James would eat breakfast together, just sitting in comfortable silence.

The two would peak glances at each other.

The week past was a fun blur, between hanging out with friends, family, planning the party, y/n didn't have time to notice that Natasha was coming over less and less. She used to come over everyday, key and everything acting as if y/n's home was hers.

But now for the last month y/n was seeing none of her.

Y/n walked down the stairs her dress flowing down, fit for her like a glove. Everyone gasped, 'ohhed', and ahhhed' at her. James in particular was breathless, he hadn't ever felt this way towards her or any other woman.

Y/n said her hellos to her guests, family, friends, she made her way to the bar asking for a soda when a calloused hand splayed itself on her lower back.

"Y/n will you come with me?" James spoke lowly in her ear. She turned around shocked at how he was holding her so close.

"Why?' she asked flustered.

"because I need to speak to my wife" he said with a smug smirk.

He lead her to one of the bathroom on the main floor of their house. Once inside he closed the door behind him locking it.

"Why are we in here?" She asked curiously.

James said nothing only stepping towards her in one stride, his left hand snaking it's way around her waist the other holding the back of her neck/lower head. Her body pressed against his.

"I want you, i-im sorry I didn't treat you right when I got the first chance." James whispered to her, his lips hovering over hers. She wanted to beg him to kiss her, to take her, make their marriage more then an inconvenient. To finally reciprocate her love, for him to choose her.

"I want you to, but I'm not that easy. James Barnes we've been married for almost four years, I was 18 when we married and I wanted you so bad, I loved you more then anything but you chose her! You need to make it up, you've wasted a lot of time"

"I will, I promise but I can't keep watching you like you mean nothing. One kiss and I won't ask again until your ready please babydoll"

She smashed her lips Into his, she didn't do it for him begging (well a little bit) she did it for herself one taste then he had to prove himself. The kiss was soft, pleasing, longing, underlying love no longer hidden beneath the anger.

"I'll make it to you, doll and I will never hurt you again"

one year later....

"Oh good girl baby. Yeah you like when I fill you up?" James said as he pounded into her cunt. The two wrapped up in their soft bed sheets, y/n's legs wrapped around his waist. Her hands holding onto his upper arm.

"Yes daddy, I do! Please I want your cum!' she begged through the tears of pleasure.

"I'm gonna put a baby in you, fuck your gonna be the hotest mommy baby" his thrusts getting more sloppy as he neares him climax.

"I'm gonna cum James! Please I want your babies!" Y/n pleaded, James started to place kisses on her neck and shoulder.

"Oh yeah, cum all over daddies cock babydoll. Fuck I love you!' he growled into her shoulder as his white warm cum shot into her wet tight pussy.

'i love you too Jamie" y/n said dozing off, now James held her in his arms. He stared at her, how soft and delicate she looked. He loves her, her little giggles, the way she cuddles into him, how she cries and tries to beg him to let her adopt animal when the arms of the angel commercial comes on and now that she's pregnant she always ends up In tears.

James Buchanan Barnes loves y/n Barnes and nothing will change that. And their soon to be born daughter.

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