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#mafia steve rogers
myfictionaldreams · 3 months
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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
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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.
1K notes · View notes
biteofcherry · 1 year
Note
Does mafia!Steve's Reader ever get jealous? Maybe there's a businesswoman or mafia related one that Steve has to have meetings with and reader gets jealous?
Nesting
Not an inch away
mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader
warnings for the part below: some angst; soft!dark Steve Rogers; mafia!Steve Rogers; possessive behavior; arranged/forced relationship;
~ * ~
You shouldn't care. You really shouldn't, you tell yourself as you watch Steve open the restaurant door for that other woman to enter.
A woman that looks stunning in a body-clinging white dress and killer heels, not a single thing out of place in her confident persona.
She tilts her head and smiles at Steve, who reciprocates with one of his most charming smiles - one that gets you weak in the knees when he flashes it at you.
He told you he'd be home late because he has boring business meetings to attend to, so you talked your bodyguards slash enablers - Natasha and Yelena - to go to the movies and for some greasy food afterwards.
It's pure coincidence that the spot you picked for your snacking was opposite of a fancy restaurant to which Steve took this woman.
You know plenty of women have successful businesses, but you don't think a mob boss of Steve's caliber would actually do any business with one of them. In a romantic restaurant at that.
Natasha's face is perfectly impassive at the sight, but Yelena cringes as if she feels bad for you for seeing this.
You tell yourself that it shouldn't matter. This whole arrangement, one practically forced upon you after Steve found out about your pregnancy, is one you wanted out of at first, right?
The elegant, shiny ring on your finger, which you grew to love and often looked at with a fond smile, now reminded you of the cage Steve trapped you in. Gold, pretty cage.
With how intense and dotting Steve was, you actually believed the cage could become a warm house, with a faithful, loving husband.
Seemed you were going to become a cliche, instead. A wife to produce heirs to a mafia king, while he fucked around with whomever he desired.
Perhaps you should walk into the restaurant, make a scene, throw a drink in Steve's face. Throw it at that woman's white dress.
But you only clench your hands on the paper bag with takeout you bought to eat at home (your pregnancy is turning you into a bottomless pit). You straighten your back and keep your head up high as you march to the car and get inside, Natasha and Yelena slipping inside soundlessly.
Yelena tries to say something, explain Steve's actions, but you tell her you're not interested.
"I don't care." You announce as coldly as you can, quite proud that your voice doesn't crack with how hurt you feel inside.
At home you devour your food. And some chocolate muffins that you baked in the morning. Each bite as delicious as heavy, your stomach revolting with the bitter jealousy and anger at the thought of what Steve was up to.
Are they having a romantic dinner and smiling at each other across the table? Is he sliding his hand up her thigh and under her dress? Does he make her come silently in front of all the patrons?
Will he take her to a hotel room, or one of his apartments that he owns all around the city, and fuck her into a screaming mess?
Will he fuck her better than he did you last night... yanking a fistful of your hair as he wrecked you into a dripping mess and praised you, A good little wife, taking all of me so well.
Ripping apart another muffin, you decide on your next step. You know running away wouldn't work. For one, you have two guards, who may be friendly, but still were loyal to Steve and what he said triumphed over whatever you wanted.
Secondly, even if you managed to slip out, Steve would find you. And he'd drag you back into the cage and the life he builds with you beside him.
You can't leave the penthouse, but you can make yourself a safe space in one of the free guest rooms.
Since Steve's dipping his dick in other woman's cunt, he doesn't need you sleeping beside him.
You definitely don't want to touch him when he reeks of other woman's perfume. You don't even want to see him.
So after you drag most of your stuff from the main bedroom and hastily put it in the closet in your new room, you close the door. Just in time, because less than ten minutes later the echo of firm footsteps resounds.
You flip a book open, trying to focus on the printed words and not on the way your heart hammers in your chest as you hear Steve's footsteps aiming for the main bedroom.
A vicious part of you hopes that he is a shocked, seeing that you're not there.
Not in the huge bed, naked under soft covers, waiting for your husband lord and master to throw you a crumb of his attention.
The emotionally heaving part of you shudders in sobs at the image of Steve simply not minding that you're not there.
Maybe he's only a little surprised, but brushes it off and simply takes a shower to wash off the remnants of that woman's arousal and his own sweat. Then he'll get into bed and fall asleep sated, uncaring for your state as long as you obediently stayed inside.
You rub at your eyes, cursing the tears away. You shake your head and try once again to focus on the words you're reading.
But then, after a long stretch of silence, footsteps sound through the space. A creaking of door being open. Then another. Slowly moving towards where you are hidden.
Your heart rate increases, fingers trembling against the paper pages of your book.
You take a breath, willing yourself to remain calm and not show Steve how hurt you are. Play it the way mob bosses wives in movies and tv shows do it - cold and indifferent, an armor around you, so nothing can prickle you.
The door to your claimed room opens and Steve stands there in the doorway in all his stormy glory.
He frowns, seeing you sitting stiffly on the bed.
He walks inside. Sleeves of his suit jacket are pushed up, showing his forearms and twirls of tattoos. He braces his hands on his hips and gives you a look that's a combination of concern and blatant anger.
"Can you explain what's the meaning of all this?" Steve's voice is thick and raspy.
You swallow, but shrug nonchalantly as if his heated gaze isn't bothering you.
"I thought it's better to leave the main bedroom, in case you brought your companion home for the night." You say and return your gaze to the book, fighting the urge to wave him away with a dismissive gesture.
"What?" Steve's frown deepens, actual confusion showing on his face.
"I'm not sure your mistress would like seeing me there. Might ruin the mood." You lift your head and sneer at him. "So I simply made it easier for you."
"I have a mistress now?" Steve raises a single brow, remaining calm while everything inside of you was boiling.
You snap your book closed and slam in onto the bedside table. With a little huff you get off the bed and stomp over to Steve.
"No need to lie." You scoff. "I saw you. With her. Didn't know mob business meant taking beautiful women to expensive restaurants."
You push at his chest in anger, but Steve's strong, muscled body doesn't even sway at your outburst. So you push at him again, unsuccessfully, but at least you get to unleash some of your fury.
"Just do me a favor and don't bring any of your whores home once the baby is here. Stay in one of your apartments, or allow me to move into one."
You can't hold off tears anymore and as some pour out, trickling down your cheeks, you clench your hands into fists and slam them against Steve's chest.
Steve's fingers wrap around your wrists, a tight, almost painful hold that keeps your hands bound to his chest.
"You are not going away from me." He declares, a definite order.
His eyes darken, a flash of lethal danger he rarely directed at you.
"In any form." He ads, obviously meaning you switching bedrooms.
Slowly, Steve's face lightens up. Twinkles appear in his eyes and it makes another wave of annoyance surge through you.
He keeps your wrists locked in one of his hands as he uses the other hand to cup your cheek.
"Any moving you're going to do is along with me." He says and tries to lean his forehead against yours, but you pull your head back.
Steve sighs.
"Which is why," he forces you to maintain eye contact with him, "I had a meeting with Camilla. She's a real estate agent who works for me on renovating a house that I bought for us. For our family."
His words make you speechless. A house? Someplace where you'd feel more free and where your kids could run in glee.
Still, you remain suspicious. You want to assume it's just a crafty lie, you're sure Steve's good at those.
"The Infinite is a rather romantic place to talk construction." You narrow your eyes.
Steve chuckles and shakes his head. He lets go of your wrists to wrap both his arms around you, pulling you close to him despite your attempt to squirm away.
"Jealous little bird." He hums and slides one of his hands up to grip the back of your neck.
"In my line of work-" Steve leans closer, his nose tracing the line of your jaw, hot breath tickling your skin making you shiver-
"I manipulate people. Some with threats, some with sugar. And some, like Camilla, with never voiced promise of something they wish for."
Steve's soft snicker puffs across your cheek at your sneer. His lips travel toward your lips. You close your eyes at the intensity of his blue irises and the way your body reacts to the touch of his mouth against yours.
"A restaurant dinner gave her that little spark that will make her work her ass off to grand me all my wishes regarding our house. Even though not once have I even brushed an inch of her body with my fingers."
"It also happens-" the tip of Steve's tongue licks over your bottom lip, his hand starts pulling up the hem of your nightgown- "that I know how to manipulate my wife's body, so she sweats out all that jealousy and anger while she creams on my cock."
Your tiny, needy whimper makes him chuckle in dark victory.
"That what you need, huh?" He grips your buttock and kneads it. "Should I fuck you braindead every day, so that your mind doesn't come up with silly ideas?"
"It wasn't silly." You try to defend your earlier outburst, but it comes out breathy and weak.
"Thinking I could be interested in anyone else when I have your sweet, ripe body at my disposal. Absolutely ridiculous." Steve flashes you a wolfish grin.
He lifts you up suddenly, forcing your arms and legs to wrap around him. His fingers slide from your ass to dip between your thighs as he turns around and walks out of the room.
"You're coming back to our bedroom." He growls a command.
"I'm going to keep you naked and full of cum for the next few days, so it really sinks in that neither of us is stepping away from this marriage. Ever."
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sweetsbfreex · 1 year
Text
drunk and obsessed
Summary: a little something about a drunk steve. in the mafia steve universe
Pairing: drunk!mafia! steve rogers x reader
Warning: none rlly
-
“Baby, baby,” you giggle, a bit tipsy, as you try your hardest to fit the key into the door's lock. “I can’t open the door with you all over me.”
You laugh once more when Steve begins kissing your neck once again. His trimmed beard tickles your neck. 
On the other hand, Steve had a bit too much to drink. And that's all your doing. 
You know he feels he can never have too much to drink at these events, especially with you there. The events are filled with some of the most inimical people worldwide. So he always wants to be on his A-game for you. But that’s what body guards are for, you had argued. Pushing for him to have the time of his life with some of his friends.
Now here he was: drunk and his body cradling yours, as the two of you struggle to get in the house. 
“I just love you, baby,” his words slur as he kisses your cheek. 
“I love you too,” You tell him, so close to getting the fucking key to fit. 
“I can’t wait to get you inside,” his voice rich and husky as he seals his promise. 
“Baby, I don’t even think you could get it up right now.”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve removes himself as your shell, both arms up in defense while he takes a few steps back.  
When your senses finally catch up that he’s no longer hovering over you. You quickly turn, just stopping him before he tumbles down the step. 
You hold both his hands, then let one go to grab the side of this face, “Honey, your drunk off your ass right now—“
“I am not! You just called my game weak,”
“That’s not what I said, but I need you to stand silently so I can open the door, okay?”
“Okay, pretty” he answers, landing a soft peck on your lips.
You smile as you finally open the door, reaching behind you to clasp Steve’s hand so you can pull him in. 
You close the door behind him, toeing your shoes off, giggling when he has trouble with his. But five ‘fucks’ later, he finally gets it done. 
“Woooo!!” Steve shoots his hand up in a v, as if his team just won the super bowl. 
You’re quick to drop his arms back down to his sides, “Shhh, baby. You’re screaming.”
“I am?! I’m sorry,” his hands cup your cheeks as he pulls you for yet another kiss. 
“Honey,” you laugh into his sloppy kiss. “Let’s go to bed, hm? And get some water into you.”
“I don’t wanna do bed,” he whines. “I wanna do you,” he smirks, moving one hand to grip your hip.
“Tomorrow, okay? I’m really tired.” You feign a dramatic yawn. 
“You are? Okay, that’s okay, okay?” he kisses your nose this time. 
Drunk sex isn’t something that hasn’t been checked off your and Steve’s list. But Steve is sloshed and can barely walk straight, so sex would not be on the menu for tonight. 
“Let’s head up.” You wrap his arm over your shoulder, walking up the steps carefully. 
-
He’s sitting at the end of the bed, his coat beside him, as you unbutton his dress shirt. You would’ve let him do it himself, but he was struggling with his lack of hand-eye coordination. Playfully slapping your hand every time your hands got close to his shirt. Giggling and joking that there would be no sexy times. That was until he had made you oath you’d keep your hands innocent. 
Ever your affectionate, drunk lover. 
“Are you sure you feel alright? Don't need to throw up or anything?” You ask Steve once again. 
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he tells you then takes another swig of water.
It only takes ten minutes until he’s in his sweatpants, with no boxers (under his request). You’re changed and ready for bed, tired out from an eventful day. Steve’s favorite movie playing in the background. 
Steve cuddles up close, half his brawny body on yours, his leg splayed over yours, and his head nestled on your chest. 
Your fingers run through his hair soothingly. 
“Y/n?”
You hum a response.
“Thank you for taking care of me, I love you too,” 
“I love you too.” you laugh breathily at his mistake. 
A comfortable pause ensues. 
“Y/n?” His hand shimmies under your t-shirt, to caress your soft skin. 
“Yes, honey,” you can’t help but laugh at the way he calls for your attention. You don’t think you’ve heard your actual name from his mouth so consistently. 
“I think I wanna— I know I want to start trying soon. I wanna be a dad, a good dad.”
Your hand stills.
“What?” Your voice is quiet and relayed with shock. Your heart no longer in your chest. 
He wants to try. The two of you tied the knot two months ago. However, talk of whether you guys wanted to start a family or not was shut down by Steve every time. You never wanted to push, but you also wanted to know what to expect. 
Either way, He was adamant that he wasn’t ready. There was no way he could raise a baby to be half a decent human being with his trauma lingering in the shadows, among other things
He sits up abruptly, “I know, I know. I’m not sober, but I’m not lying either. I’m ready, honey… if you are.” He grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles.
“Okay,” you smile, “If you remember, we’ll continue this conversation tomorrow?”
“Okay.” He kisses your cheek before cuddling into you once again. “I wanna be the perfect dad, y/n. The best.”
“You will be.” 
You tell him sweetly, your eyes stinging as you run your fingers through his hair once more. 
-
a/n: srry it's been so long, college keeps me busy 24/7! here's this as i try and finish binky fairy pt. 2
if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3
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generalmoonpolice · 5 months
Text
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.
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irishhappiness · 6 months
Text
I need you
Summary: You wake up without Steve in your bed after a nightmare. You go find him.
Pairing: mafia fiancé Steve Rogers X female reader
Word count: 715
Tw: murder/death, mention of torture, mention of nightmares.
A/N: I was inspired by curiosity killed the cat by @queers-gambit . It made me think that Steve would be the opposite, needing to have his wife with him at all times even if I understand Bucky. He could suffocate under her hugged that he wouldn't care. He would hate himself for what she endured.
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It’s been a month since Steve rescued you from your kidnappers. He has been so afraid to lose you that he killed the man with his bare hand, needing to feel his skull crushed under his strength to be sure that he was dead. When he found you, you were in your bubble trying not to think about the pain and what was happening. You were trying to be strong for him. He took you in his arms, bride style while the others were finishing the massacre. They will not leave this unpunished. Once you were home, it took you several hours to recover. Steve kept you close to him at all times, not letting you leave his eyesight.
Since that day, he doesn’t let you go out without Sam, Bucky, Natasha, or Yelena. He needed you to be with the people that he trusted the most. You told him that you could take care of yourself and that he didn’t need to take away someone of the operations just for you. He told you that he wasn’t letting anything else happen to you under any circumstances. In reality, you were relieved not to be alone. The first time that you went out, you had a panic attack when someone walked too close to you. You made Sam promise not to say anything to Steve. You knew for sure that he would not let you leave without him. Of course, Sam told your fiancé what happened, and he made him promise not to go overboard with you. He needed you to still confied in him if needed, but you never knew it. It just seemed like he was more protective since the kidnapping, nothing more.
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It was two am when Steve saw your shadow at the bottom of door. You were thinking about knocking but didn’t want to disturb him. You knew that he was in a meeting if he was still in his study. You stayed there for a little bit, wondering what to do.He chose for you.
“Baby, you can come in.”
You entered slowly, seeing that he was with Bucky. Knowing that you were about to say, he opened his arms for you to come to him.
“Hi Buck.”
“Hi Sweetie. How are you?”
You shrunk your shoulders. You had a nightmare, and you needed Steve. You look at your fiancé.
“Can I stay here with you?”
“You know you don’t need to ask. You can always stay with us.”
He shows you his lap. You took a seat, putting yourself the closest to him, your knees against your chest like a small kitten. You gripped his shirt, putting your head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your head.
“I am here. You are safe now.”
Tears started to escape your eyes. You left them flow while he rocked you. He took the habit of not saying anything. If you need to talk, you will tell him. Sometimes, you just need to have him against him while you let yourself go. After a while, you fell asleep against him. He needed to finish his meeting with Bucky, making sure not to wake you up before putting you to bed.
You started to stir.
“Shhh, sleep Baby.”
“Need you, don’t leave me.”
“I’m not, I am just removing my clothes.”
Your eyes open. You needed to be sure that he was staying with you. You knew he would never lie to you, but you needed him against you. He removed his slippers then his clothes. You looked at him. How can he still be this handsome after everything that happened? Even with his scars, he was the most beautiful man that you ever saw. He came back to you and put you under the sheets. He took you in his arms while you hugged him close, put your leg above his to make sure he would not move. He kissed your head and then caressed your hair.
You whisper a small "I love you" while he does the same, caressing your back, making sure that you're asleep before drifting in his dreams. If he could keep you against him all the time, he would.
“I am staying here. I am not moving until you want me too.”
@mochie85 🥰
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talesofadragon · 9 months
Text
𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Synopsis: The world was not created in colors to be lived seldom in white, black, or even gray. This is what Y/N believed, and she resolutely refuses to be told otherwise. But when a night at the city’s most prestigious nightclub triggers a series of misfortunate events, Y/N’s world of hues is thrown off balance, colliding with a stranger whose eyes may be blue but his world is a handful of shades too dark.  
Pairing: Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: Mature scenes. Minors DNI.
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Chapter 1 | Flat White
Chapter 2 | Morally Gray
Chapter 3 | Star Command Blue
Chapter 4 (Coming soon)
A/N: Blame @crazyunsexycool for this one. When the first scene of this "one shot" bordered 3K lines because yours truly cannot for the life her forgo evocative descriptions, I knew I needed to reevaluate the direction of this fic. I'm hoping to have the next chapter out sometime soon. Stay tuned 🩵
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slyyywriting · 1 year
Text
To Your Glorious Thorn
Pairings: Soft!Dark Mob Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: Steve rescues his estranged wife from being hurt. Now that she's home again, he doesn't want her to leave.
Wordcount: 5.2k
Warnings: graphic violence, blood, torture, restraints, kidnapping, injuries, angst, mutual pining, comfort, manipulative Steve, soft-dark Steve, explicit smut
18+ ONLY, IF YOU ARE A MINOR KINDLY FUCK OFF RESPECTFULLY! HEED THE WARNINGS! PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK!
A/N: Brain rattling like a tin can with one pebble. I wanted to write about monster fucking but welp, mob steeb. Happy October! This might be one of my last outputs before I go on hiatus or something. Life kicking the shit outta me.
|| MASTERLIST ||
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You can still get out of this, you think to yourself. Sure, you’re going to have to limp out of this dank room, maybe crawl the sidewalk until you can jack a car but it was very much possible.
You had to. Unless you want the Hudson to turn red, you had to get yourself out as quickly as possible. You pull on your restraints, wincing when the zip tie digs further into your skin, opening up the wound and causing fresh blood to trickle down your hands.
Stupid girl, you berate yourself, almost laughing at the fact that you’ve done your best to reel in whatever blood lust you had. Spoiled brat, the voice in your head hisses and this time your aching cheeks lift into a smirk as it mixes with another voice. You were always so spoiled, my sweet, rotten girl.
Three years of running away from being in the exact situation you were in now and yet you ended up where you wanted to be the least. A year after returning to New York and you managed to piss off every family head in the State. You drank your way through your new found freedom, scratched and maimed your way to the top only to fall in one solid swoop.
“Good morning, sunshine!” the heavy metal door opens as your torturer for the past—you forgot how long you’ve been here—days waltzes inside, wearing a vinyl apron and an ugly smirk. “Boss says we’re pulling out your toe nails today. Fun, huh?”
“Super fun—“ you croak out, voice hoarse from screaming. The man grunts, annoyed that you could still speak despite the damage he thought he’d done to you. “Anything but the face and we’re good.”
So spoiled, sweetheart. Another voice echoes and you hum deliriously. The man nears you, pulling your head back with a fist full of your hair. “Now that you mentioned it, I think your face is too clean, girl.” His breath fans your cheeks, making you flinch in horror of the smell coming out from him. The first strike to your jaw doesn’t register as disbelief floods your brain first. The asshole actually hit you on the face. The next blow to your cheek makes your ears ring. It’s his funeral, you think, if he was lucky enough to be recognized for a proper burial.
You hang your head low, spitting a loose tooth into the floor. You grunt as another hit lands on your face, pain blooming and spreading from your eyes to your neck. Your hearing flitters in and out with an irksome ringing, your torturer’s words not registering anymore. You didn’t care though. Nothing mattered anymore, this was the end of your proverbial rope. You know for damn sure that he had heard about this by now. That he was gathering all resources, always happy to supply the dramatics, to come and get what is his. To come and get you.
“You just lost y-your jaw, dick face,” you inform the stinky man who touched you. He’d told you that you were free only because he let you be but make no mistake that anyone who as much as held your hand were never to be found again. Your past had his eyes everywhere but it was as if he knew in his soul when your body, his temple, had other worshippers.
“You’re in no place to threaten me, sunshine! I’m fucking god in here—“ stink breath holds your face in his stubby hand and you felt like gagging. Your head spun as bile travelled up your throat just in time for the lights to cut off, leaving the room and the whole building stop into an eerie silence. You smile to yourself and succumb to a painless abyss while fart mouth tried to understand the situation, “What the fuck is goin—“
Flashes of light from the nozzles of guns erupt all around the night, clearing anything in its path, destroying everything that moved or breathed. Your salvation is here, a bittersweet pang in your heart reminds you.
You remember warmth—the solid kind. Not the one that was trickling from your veins. Instead it was a familiar one in the shape of agile fingers prodding softly at your half alive form. The breath on your cheek, mint, cigarettes, bourbon—lull you into safety as they speak to you in hushed yet desperate tones. You feel like floating while you’re being dragged down, hands too weak to hold on when you feel a concrete presence beside you and not allowing you to sink further. You remember the scent covering you as pain is replaced by numbness and an assurance that you were going to be just fine.
“Everyone’s going to pay for what they’ve done to you, my sweet, sweet girl,” you remember the voice that shook you to your bones and drenched you deep in your core. That week the rivers turned red and the sewers echoed in horrified screams. The city was colder and on edge as your old love came to reclaim you. All the while you slept every night soundly under your love’s watchful gaze, after all it was safest inside the eye of the storm.
*
**
***
Another empty cartridge clacks on the floor as Steve rains bullets over a poker game. His expression was bored, cold like this whole thing was an inconvenience for him. And if he were being honest, it was an inconvenience. He should be at home, by your side as he waits with bated breath for you to wake up. It had been a week since he plucked you out of that building and watched it burn down from the rearview mirror. A week since he held your cold bloodied body in his arms. A week since his men held him back while you got stitched up and prodded and poked until you regained breath and color.
His gun clicks empty again, yet his finger still itches on the trigger. He was out for blood, held on to his patience way too long until the universe finally gave him a reason to spill it. The room is now silent as he reloads when his phone rings.
“She’s awake, Sir.” He hums in relief at the news from the other line before he holsters his gun and turns around. He nods to the man holding his car’s door open, shrugging his coat on and flipping the collar up to protect himself from the constant chill of your absence. His anger is still not sated, “Burn it all. No witnesses, no prisoners.”
You sit quietly against the headboard as a dizzying flurry of activity goes on around you. Someone was checking your left arm, another was checking your face and asking you questions about the year, the president, where you were, while someone else was fussing with your numb legs. All the while, the familiar face on the foot of your bed smiles at you kindly, impressed and confused why you weren’t fighting any of it. Why weren’t you trying to escape like you have a hundred times before?
“I’ve prepared your favorite soup for you. Help get your strength back,” he tells you with his accent, heavy of his motherland despite being stateside for more than thirty years.
“I’m okay, Abe-“ you brush him off, voice raspy and airy, like you were still chasing your breath.
“I insist. I already have it prepared along with some tea for that,” he smiles while gesturing at his own throat, “—make your voice return to the one I’m used to.” You wanted to protest but the soft shimmer in his eyes lets you know he won’t take no for an answer.
Abraham Erskine was the only paternal figure you’d ever known and you’d broken his heart when you went away. Given that he knew exactly where you were even when you moved out, it didn’t make him miss you any less. You were back under this roof, the one he ran, and he was planning to make up for lost time.
You nod in defeat, schooling your features only to a small twitch on your cheek and let the people around you fuss about in peace. When you’re cleared and the feeling in your toes return, you ask to be left alone promising to push a button when you need help. The older man by your feet concedes, ushering everyone out and shutting the door behind him. Your tears fall just as the latch clicks to a close and you wring your hands over and over.
The flooding on your cheeks fails to make you see the door opening again and someone entering not until he kneels right beside your bed and places his large hand over yours. His fingers envelope your own and you hold on to them tighter, squeezing as hard as you could. You’d never been good with apologies and Steve never pushed for any of them. That was how he spoiled you, gave you the illusion of your own space and freedom when the truth was, you were tethered by a short invisible leash. You whimper, muttering a litany of sorry’s disguised under hiccups as the pads of your fingers run over his calloused knuckles while he shushes you and tells you everything will be okay. He’d made sure of it.
Exhaustion takes over you again, falling asleep in Steve’s arms. You made space for him on the bed, shaking your head when he moved to place a chair near you. You’d been alone for too long and all you wanted right now was to be smothered by him, with him and of him. You slept soundly as your cheek pressed against his side, fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt while your legs were tangled with his.
Steve rubs his thumb lightly on your bruised cheek, the glint of his wedding ring that he refused to take off, and your warmth placing the final brick; his mind was made up. He was never letting you go again. Even if it ended with you hating him, at least you’d be together and you’ll be safe inside the cage that he was going to build for you. His thoughts break when his trusty butler clears his throat from the door, carrying a tray in his hands. Steve hadn’t even heard him come in.
“I was hoping that she would eat something. You, too, Steven,” his German accent bleeds through as he keeps his glee at bay. He had dreamt of the day that the two of you would realize that together was where you should be. The table wear softly clatters as he sets them down gently, “I expect the plates cleared when I come back in the morning. Your pajamas are already in the closet. And I’ve already told everyone you are not to be disturbed. Good night, Steven.”
Steve smiles at the older man, bidding him good night. He then turns to you and thinks of ways to change into his sleeping clothes without summoning your ire when he untangles himself.
*
**
***
The dining room was busy and bursting with energy. Every third Wednesday of the month, you hosted the security team, the house staff and even the floating employees to a lunch. Somehow the tradition of free lunch for everyone who worked for Steve Rogers carried on even during your disappearance. What had started as you being bored of playing house and cooking up meals enough to feed a small army had ended up as a monthly event in the mansion.
You smile to yourself as you held on to the stairs banister for support as you come down from your room. You woke up feeling refreshed, almost back to your old self so you decided to shower and get dressed, surprised that your old clothes still hanged pristinely in your closet. Your knee wobbles slightly as you finally step down to the landing, slowly making your way to the table.
The room descends into a hush when you’re spotted by your former employees, Abraham turning around with curious eyes with the sudden halting of the activities around him.
“I smelled Marcia’s bread.” You tell him sheepishly as you meet his soft gaze.
“Well, she left it near the air vents on purpose thinking the aroma would help you get you back on your feet.” The butler shrugs and walks to the head of the table, pulling the chair back. “Since you’re here, I owe her fifty American dollars.”
You smirk at him and barely take a step forward when two guys were already on your either side, hands on your elbows to assist you. You felt like a new born fawn, still learning to walk but for you, you were relearning your place in the house, even if for the meantime. You had to get your bearings back before you’d be ready to face the world again. You take your seat and the lunch flurry resumes as Abe tells you what’s on the menu. You smile and nod, thinking of which ones to put on your plate, avoiding soup at all costs as you’ve grown tired of it and associating it with your pains.
Your old butler couldn’t help but give you a fatherly smile as you converse with the kitchen staff who were trying to sell you their individually prepared dishes, presenting you with a slice or a small serving until the plate you had before you was full. You smile naturally at the way the people around you acted, like nothing had changed; like you never left them without as much as a warning, more so a goodbye. They treated you as if you never broke their hearts when you decided that you didn’t want to be in their lives anymore.
You bring your palms together and thanked them for the food. Your delicate hand, knuckles still bruised and wrists still taped up, takes the fork from the table and picks on a dish. You slowly raise your hand to feed yourself as everybody around you looked on with baited breath, movement slowed in anticipation of their mistress once again present at the table. The bite you take is small and with closed eyes you hum and sigh as the flavor envelopes your tongue. Only when you start chewing and digging for more does the staff continue with their lunch, throwing short glances your way from time to time.
Steve was fixing his cufflinks when he walked to the dining area knowing that the staff was there. He knew what day it was and refused to take part of the tradition. He wasn’t the one who started it and it didn’t make sense to him to be there when you weren’t. His people understood, even empathized with him and his sentiments but unlike him, they didn’t let the darkness consume them, even when the sun wasn’t around. They were contented to carry on even without the heads of the house.
“Has anyone seen my gray coat? I don’t remember where I left it early this morn—“ Steve’s scowl ceases when he sees you at the head of the table. Your hair was still wet, face adorned with yellowing patterns and faded purples but held two beautiful eyes that looked at him with surprise. You must have not known he was still inside the house when you came down. Your name escapes his lips like a prayer. “You’re up! And—and walkin’ around!”
“I got hungry,” you tell Steve sheepishly, covering your mouth as you continued to slowly chew. He rushes beside you and kneels by the chair you sat on. Your old lover and recent savior frantically looks over your figure, asking if you were okay with being up. You nod and bring your hands to his face, leaning down towards him, whispering. “I’d feel better if you help me eat, Stevie. They put too much food on my plate. I don’t think I can eat it all and you know how upset the kitchen staff get when I don’t finish my meals.”
“Y-yes, of course. Whatever you need, my love.” Steve shoots up and drags a chair next to yours. Abraham smirks to himself but gently signals everyone at the table to give the two of you space, moving over to seats further down from yours.
“Were you headed out?” pushing the plate between the two of you, you hand him your fork while you looked around for something else.
“No—“ you hum, not believing him. “—yes. I was. But I’m in no rush. I’d rather see how you are doin’.” He grabs a glass just out of your reach and places it beside you while someone else comes up and pours some water in it. Before you can take it, he brings it up to your lips gently and helps you drink. “Work can wait.”
You smile gently again at him, getting a good look at his face this time. In the almost two weeks that you were back in your house—his­, you remind yourself, his house, you barely saw Steve when you were awake. The pain medication and all the antibiotics in your system made you sluggish and sleepy all the time that the only assurance you had that Steve was around was when you cried yourself to sleep in his arms, tears full of apologies as his warmth and scent calmed you down. In the mornings he’d kiss your forehead with a ‘feel better’ and ‘I’ll be back soon’ while you were half asleep.
Now as you look at him, you see the difference in Steve’s features. His hair was longer, reaching past his ears but well-kept and swept back; he’d grown a beard, darker than the hair on his head but well maintained too; his skin was paler, the tan you maintained on him by going to tropical destinations multiple times a year is now gone; his eyes, still the same blue hue that you could stare all day, now carried a coldness to them like they had seen too much cruelty and decided not to look away, opting to take part of the violence.
You cup his face and swipe your thumb on his plump bottom lip. Your time apart had hardened him, you know this but by how much was still unclear. But as Steve leans into your touch with his eyes closed, the icicles in his heart were slowly starting to melt, unbeknownst to you. Steve hadn’t felt like he was present in a long time but as your hand shifts from his face to his knee, he is tethered to the moment. You look up at him and as you smile, an uncontrollable ache takes over his very being.
Yeah, work can wait.
*
**
***
It takes you a month more to recover. Different phases of the moon pass above the estate before your sluggish movements return to normal. Time moves quickly and without meaning to, Steve has solidified his belief that you were right where you belonged; within his reach when he turns on his bed, when he searches for your hand at dinner, when he yearns for your calming scent in the greenhouse.
You’ve hinted at leaving him once more. More than on one occasion, little fumbles in your sentences, looking wearily from a window, exploring the garage—all small hints that you wanted to go back out to the world.
But Steve is prepared this time. He’s managed to use your unfortunate circumstance of having your wings clipped to keep you in a gilded cage of his creation. He tells you, with some degree of truth, that there are still people after you that he has not found. That danger lurks outside your residential grounds and he’s not sure how much he can protect you if you’re out there. But the thing that gets to you the most is when he tells you he’d rather die than see you get hurt the way you did ever again.
You cup his face and apologize for the pain you’d caused him, promising to stay away from trouble as to not trouble him as well. Your heart aches for Steve, it really does. And with the guilt you carried, you’re shackled to the house blissfully ignorant of the havoc his rage burns out in the world.
Steve shielded your eyes from the bodies that can no longer be identified. He would not allow you to see what makes cops of tenure heave their breakfasts on the cold asphalt when they get called out. His anger has deprived him of reason but fuels his lust for vengeance that overcompensates for the bottled up fears in all the time that you weren’t in his arms. Steve’s smile is one of a destroyer that knows he’s the one sealing fates. His is the last word heard by those who ask for mercy. But he gives none. Not anymore and not for a while.
One night, one you’ve lost count which day or month, you sit up from the lavish bathtub as Steve stumbles inside your shared bathroom. His suit has been darkened by something wet that clung to him.
“Stevie?” your call draws him out of his exhausted stupor. He smiles, one of those half smirks you love on him. That one that makes him look boyish. That one that reminds you of the Steve Rogers you met when you were younger; shy with his words but sure in his actions.
He unbuttons his jacket and pulls it off his body. It makes a dull thud when he drops it on the tiled floor. Once it’s off, your eyes widen to see the big red stain on his crisp shirt you put on him this morning.
“Don’t worry. It’s not my blood.”
“It better not be!”
He completes his removal of his clothing and stands at the side of the tub. His thighs on your eye level, his flaccid cock swinging around like it owned the place. Your eyes focus on it, swallowing the pool of saliva in your mouth as you remember how he tasted. You crane your neck to look at the face of the man you married and ran away from to find him staring back at you. His features are hopeful when you push yourself forward to make space for him.
Steve climbs behind you, wincing at the temperature of the water. You always liked to boil yourself in all your salts and oils. And Steve who loves you would sit in lava just to be close to you like this.
His body takes up most of the space, massive arms pulling you from around your waist and pressing your back against his chest. His knees cage you in as you lie back on his wet skin.
“Tough day at work?”
You pick up the washcloth from beside the tub and start scrubbing away on his arm. You poke gently on the little bruises that started to form on them until you reach his bloodied knuckles. You kiss on them gently until you feel Steve relax beneath you.
“Tougher being away from you. How are you feeling?”
“Better. I was able to jog for forty minutes today. The doctor said at this rate I’d be all healed up by the weekend.”
Steve’s right arm tightens around you at the announcement. He exhales heavily against your neck before he leaves a hard kiss on it. He leans his forehead towards you and you could just hear his contemplation—feel him trying to find the right words against your skin.
“I can probably be ready before the weather becomes too cold. Find some place with fresh air and with accessible hiking trails. Doc said both is important.”
Steve hums again. The kind of humming he makes when he’s distracted. That hum he gives you when he’s plans to answer whatever you said in the next couple of hours.
“Why is Doc in such a hurry to finish your therapy? Did she even give you the full course?”
There it is.
You chuckle. Typical Steve. He places another kiss on your shoulder as you finish cleaning his left arm. You pick up the other that was currently latched around you and he gives it up but not before he uses his legs to draw you even closer. You can feel his heavy cock poking your hip and you rock yourself as you move further into his space.
“You still haven’t explored the woods behind the house.”
“It’s just woods and trees and mud, Steve. What more am I supposed to explore?”
“I’m going to miss you when you leave me,” again, he omits the last word because he’d already let slip out too much. But since he’s already here, “I don’t know what I would do when you leave, my love. You went out into the world and it spit you right out. I wouldn’t do that to you. You belong in this home—here with me. Together, you and I make sense. What else is there outside these walls?”
You pause. The bathroom is silent except for the sound of your breathing, the sound of the bubbles popping as Steve’s hand rubs the skin on your waist. You had no answer, no comeback.
He was right. You haven’t told him but the incident left you riddled in holes. You had nightmares of being taken away only to not be saved. At the back of your mind, you knew that there will come a day that Steve will be over your bullshit. The moment he realizes that your being a brat is not a fun quirk to have and does not entice him anymore, Steve will not show up to save you. Once you push him too far you would end up at the end of the threads of fate, alone and helpless.
“What more do you need than what we have here? What more do you want?” Steve’s words vibrate all around the tiled room.
Guilt of not having an answer makes you push yourself into your elbows to face him. Now chest to chest, you trace your fingers on the various marks and tattoos on his chest. Symbols seemingly at random that actually meant the world to him. Numbers of important dates—moments in his life forever etched in his mind and soul, your name carved into his skin in your penmanship; all symbols of his love, undying, impassioned and vengeful.
Your mistake lies on making eye contact. Those blue pools have always been your weakness. Evidenced by how you just kissed him out of nowhere. Years of being separated from him by your own stupid choices that lead to months of being with him every single night and yet—
This kiss—it feels like having Steve for the first time again. His hand easily cups your jaw while the other squeezes your skin. His mouth full of fervor and desperation which makes you happy because it had felt like you were waiting forever for the other to make a move. Steve had always been patient. Not you though.
That’s why you’re already moving to straddle him, lining your core with his already hard cock. Your center already slippery and not just because there’s oil in your bathwater, no. This is what he does to you, what you’ve feared and loved about him. The way he makes you melt, makes you heated, makes you want to scratch and pull at him because damn him.
You smile into his kiss when he moans into your tongue. His hands are everywhere and his hips buck up into you. No words would every make up for all the apologies you have on your tongue so you decide to let your body do it for you.
Steve’s about to lose his mind as you lie on top of him and pull him close. He didn’t think you’d be the first to break but he thanks all his stars nonetheless because he was running out of ideas to lure you back into his arms.
As carefully as he could, Steve flips the both of you in the slippery tub, sliding himself home as soon as he was able to open you up. Both of you moan, staring into each other as he allows barely any room to adjust to him. You were so fucking tight that he’d almost go blind from holding himself together.
The first thrust was torture, his balls tightening so uncomfortably he wouldn’t be surprised if he blew his load way too soon.
“Please, Stevie. Please fuck me. It’s been too long,” you pant as your hips move against him impatiently. “Please, baby—please.”
You beg so beautifully for him, too. Your eyes were on the verge of tears as you did, your bottom lip worried under your teeth. He wouldn’t let you suffer for long because to do so would be reflective of him. So he pushes in and pulls out, slowly at first, building a rhythm his body had dreamt about forever.
You whimper and whine under him, spurring him on as he increases his speed, taking you harder until he sees your eyes roll back.
“God, sweetheart! I love you s-so f-fucking much,” he breathes out like a prayer. His lips hovering above yours as his thrusts slam against you in a frenzy. He has no control when it comes to you. He despises and loves it all the same. You make him throw every plan, every rational thought he’s ever had. “Fuckfuckfuck—take it, take it!”
His grip on your hip claws into you. His hold will be forever indented in your skin. Not including the bruises that will form and heal. Not including the blinding pleasure from the delicious pain. He knows how to touch you. He knows you. That is what you and him are. Safety, familiarity—a sense of utter belonging.
You chant his name. Reverence. In bliss of being perceived and of being known.
Your moans bounce on the porcelain and the pristine mirrors. You clench around him, pussy gripping him with no intention of ever letting him go. Your breath hitches and without warning your release finds you keening and kicking. Your flesh shakes as pleasure overtakes your senses. Your nails draw blood on his back and shoulders until you fall lax.
Steve’s not far behind. He adjusts your leg higher, pushing himself deeper and deeper into you. His cock was close to bursting as it slides into your pulsing core. Each push of his hips drives home a point. You belong to him. Now, forever, always. His hand finds purchase on the side of the tub and his last thrust triggers his release. He comes in powerful wave, enough to make his knees buckle. His breath temporarily halts and his heart skips two, three beats.
When he regains his self only does he notice your soft fingers running up and down his back. You kiss his shoulder softly, humming in content. He pulls himself up to his elbows, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, on his upper lip. His eyes are blown wide. Steve looks down at your face. You were glowing. Flushed with his love, full of his seed. He gives you a slow kiss, the kind that makes the tip of his ears tingle.
He is home right now, he thinks. And he’ll do everything to make sure his home stays.
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gaysindistress · 9 months
Text
Dial Drunk - part 2 of Fine Line
Pairing: Mafia!Steve Rogers x reader
Warnings: angst and the feels oh and Peggy Carter slander
Word count: 2.1k words
Master list
Fine line 1 & Cocaine Jesus 3
Tag list: @vickie5446 @cakesandtom​
a/n: I love a good song fic. Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan sponsors this fic so I highly suggest you listen to it.
disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest
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“Son, is there someone I can call for you?” the Sheriff asks while half dragging and carrying a drunk Steve into the station. Under the dead weight of the mafia boss, the elderly Sheriff struggles to get them inside as the rain pelts them so hard, he’s expecting there to be bruises on both of them.
Steve mumbles something as his head lolls to the side but the other man cannot make out a single word or number for that matter. At the door, he waves to his deputies to him with the door and he all but drops Steve onto his younger deputies.
“Son, I don’t know your name. Where is your wallet or your phone?”
Steve shoves his hand into his coat pocket which sends all of them into high alert but it’s all false as he dumps the asked for items onto a desk. The Sheriff gets to work to figure out his name and find an emergency contact or anything at all that might be helpful.
“Alright, Mr. Rogers,” he announces as he types away at a computer, no doubt pulling up Steve’s criminal record as well as his contacts, “Should I call a Mrs. Margaret Carter Rogers? Is that still current?”
Steve scoffs at the name as he falls into a seat next to the Sheriff, “My own wife hates me.”
A deputy gives the Sheriff a look but he ignores it and calls the number nonetheless. Steve slumps back into the hard chair and drops his head back in attempts of sleeping off the horrendous hangover he’s going to have. The phone rings and rings, leaving him with just the dial tone as Peggy ignores the call. They try again but nothing happens. She ignores the call. They try a third time and finally she answers.
“Hello?” her accented voice wakes Steve.
“Hi is this Mrs. Margaret Carter Rogers?”
She snorts, “Not anymore. If this is about Steve, call someone else. I don’t care”
The dial tone replaces her voice and all of the officers look at each other in disbelief.
“Did… Did she just hang up?” the same deputy asks.
The sheriff clears his throat and brushes over his thick gray mustache as he thinks about what to do next.
“I told you she hates me,” Steve pipes up, “Wasted your time.”
“Is there anyone else we can call?”
He shrugs, “She won’t answer either.”
Behind them two deputies are whispering to each other about how wrong it was of Peggy to hang up but quickly stop when the Sheriff gives them a pointed look.
“Maybe SHE will answer. What’s her name and number?” He extends the phone out to Steve who drops it and has to slowly reach down to pick it up. It takes him longer than usual to open it and find the number of the woman whose house he practically ran from. After he left Y/N’s house, he found the nearest bar and drank the place out of anything that would numb the rejection pain. For ten years, he dreamed of nothing but seeing his girl again and when he finally did, his past decisions ruined any chance of a relationship with her again. For ten years, he resented Peggy, his father, his mother even and himself for not fighting harder for Y/N. For ten years, he regretted everything he had done and prayed that somehow he could go back in time to just be with her.
“Y/N hates me too.”
Still the sheriff dials the number and hopes that this mystery woman will answer the phone. It rings five times and they’re all beginning to think that this will be a repeat of the first call but she does answer.
Her voice is raw from crying but she answers, “Hello?”
“Hi ma'am, is this Y/n?”
“Yes, how can I help you?”
“Well ma’am, this is the Kings County sheriff department. I’m Sheriff Anderson. I have Steve Rogers here and he’s going to be held overnight in the drunk tank or you can come pick him up.”
“Shit, okay. Um…” there’s a long pause but they can hear her shuffling around, “I can be there in 45 minutes, is that okay?”
“Yes of course ma’am. We appreciate you answering the phone so late and coming right away.”
“Uh… yeah no problem I guess,” she mumbles something else but Steve doesn’t catch it.
Anderson motions to his deputies and has them take Steve to a cell while he waits. He’s half asleep and even heavier than before as they haul him into his own cell. Next to him is another lonely drunk stranger who was ignored and left to figure their shit out alone. Regardless he can’t be bothered to care and he shucks off his overcoat to use it as a pillow. Crossing his arms over his chest and his legs over each other, he settles into a short nap while he waits for Y/N. A part of him isn’t even sure that she is actually coming and he’s starting to convince himself that she never answered the door in the first place. She’s not coming to take him home…there's no home where they live together. There is no place where they love and support each other because he destroyed that when he married Peggy. Tears begin to grow heavy on his eyes but he won’t allow himself to cry over the past no matter how recent it might be.
He pulls his arms tighter across himself and rolls over so that his back faces outwards. With his face hidden, the tears start to fall against his will and he does nothing to stop them even though just moments ago he vowed that the past wouldn’t bother him. He doesn’t try to wipe them and lets the pain metastasize in his body, growing a tumor of emotions that can’t be cured by anything.
Time slips away from him as the memories and hurt wash over him. Anderson clears his throat to get Steve’s attention and starts to unlock the cell’s door.
“We took his keys so you can drive it home if you didn’t bring your own car,” Anderson says to Y/N.
She smiles and nods, taking the keys from him and clutching them as she stares at the sad excuse of a man laying on the bed. Steve wipes at his eyes and groans as he slides off of the hard jail bed. Shaking out his pillow coat, he puts it on before making eye contact with her. She sighes at him and thanks Anderson for all that he’s done even though it’s not procedure. When Steve stands, he sways and she’s quick to catch him, waving off Anderson who offers to take him. They don’t say anything to each other as she acts as his crutch and walk towards his car. She fumbles with the keys and drops them.
“Lean on the car,” she tells him as she bends down to pick them up, “Do you need my help getting in?”
He furrows his brow like a toddler, “No I can do it myself.”
Shaking her head at him, she unlocks the car and lets him struggle to fold his large body into the passenger side. She slides into the driver’s side and takes a deep breath. Never again did she think that she would dealing with Steve let alone driving his car as he’s almost black out drunk in the passagner seat.
He mumbles something along the lines of “It’s a remote start.”
Y/N hums her understanding and finds the button. It blinks to life and heavy metal music greets them at an unbearable volume. He whimpers at the noise and slams his hand onto the power button to turn it off as quick as he can. Satisfied that the offending noise has stopped, he curls into himself against the window and rests his head on the cool glass.
“Did you put your seat belt on?”
He answers by puling the belt over himself and clicking it into place.
She backs out of the spot and leaves the Sheriff’s station behind. Silence fills the space around them as the street lights and porch lights pass through the window. The lights splash across her face and unbeknownst to her, Steve is stealing glances at her through the window’s reflection. What little he can see of her breaks his heart even more as he can see the fatigue and hurt tense in her features. Her hair, usually styled and pristine, has been hastily clipped up with a claw clip that’s holding on for dear life. Under the long winter coat she’s wearing is just a pair of pj pants and a white crop top. She’s not even really wearing shoes but instead a pair of worn down clogs that should only be worn inside. Seeing how vulnerable she is, he can’t help himself grow protective and upset that she left in such a hurry.
“I hope you drove,” slips out albeit slurred.
“What?” she asks, quickly looking over at him.
“I said I hope you drove.”
“Why does it matter?”
“Do you see what you’re wearing?”
She blinks and scoffs at him, “I just picked your drunk ass up at 2 am and you want to lecture me about my clothing choices.”
“That’s not what I….”
She cuts him off, “Stop. You’re sleeping on the couch and I expect you to be gone when I wake up.”
“Honey.”
“Don’t. I already made myself clear earlier; I want nothing to do with you. I should’ve left you at the stupid station,” she mumbles the last part to herself but he still hears it and sews his mouth shut. The rest of the car ride back to her house is quiet aside from the normal noise of the car and the city.
She wants to regret hurting him with her words but she can’t find it in herself to care anymore. Maybe it’s the exhaustion or the petty side of her that strives to inflict as much pain as she can onto him. He did deserve it after all and he’s not protesting at least out loud.
Internally he wants to confess his undying love for her but he knows she won’t care and it won’t change her mind. He does deserve all of her hate and anger. It’s all just no matter how harsh it might be.
Steve keeps stealing glances of her in his window’s reflection and accepts the heartache it induces. Her house comes into view and he can feel her relax when it does. She pauses before fully pulling it and has the garage door open to hide his car from sight in it.
Once inside, she turns it off and waits for the door to shut completely before getting out. Steve watches as she kicks her shoes off and takes off her coat, leaving her in her thin pjs. He climbs out and does the same as her. Following her inside, she instructs him to sit at the island like before while she goes to get him blankets and pillows.
His eyes find the Polaroid again and the memories replay again. The sound of Y/N dropping a stack of bedding brings him around again.
“Here’s a couple blankets and a pillow. Don’t worry about folding them, I'll have to wash them.”
She turns to leave but he calls out softly and stops her, “thank you.”
Her hand rests on the wall beside her and she drops her head to rest on it.
“Why do you do this to yourself?”
“I want you back. I want YOU.”
She faces him again, “That’s not how this works. You don’t get to make a reappearance and magically everything goes back to how it was.”
Steve pushes off and is before her in a few short strides. He gently holds her face in his warm hands and refuses to let go even though she tugs lightly at his wrists.
“Give me another chance. Please honey, just one more chance,” he begs her as he touches his forehead to hers. Y/N’s eyes flutter closed and her breathing grows shallow, hot breath brushing against his face.
He nudges her head back and ghosts his lips over hers, waiting for her to push him away. When she doesn’t, he captures her lips in a slow and intimate kiss. Everything he’s felt over the last 10 years is flooding her as he moves his lips over hers. Every promise he’s made to himself in her name is conveyed as he sighed against her lips.
She’s the first to pull away and is shaking her head when she does so.
“No.”
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awhhhflush · 1 year
Text
The Meeting
Mob!Bucky x Reader x Steve Rogers (Massive warning - this fic is dark.)
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I'd recommend listening to this for this chapter!
Warnings (apply to the whole series): drugging, mafia/gang activity, criminal activity, age gap (reader is over the age of 18), arson, death, murder, coercion/peer pressure (non-sexual), manipulation/brainwashing, parental issues (a.k.a daddy issues), abuse of power, sort of stockholm syndrome?
Summary: Left to your own devices whilst your mother joins socialite groups with the other rich moms in town and whilst your father deals with those business troubles he's been having, you decide to explore your surroundings, and make a new friend on the way.
Fine. Maybe a miniskirt and Mary Janes weren't the best fashion choice for exploring the woods down the street, but you were yet to have unpacked the entire contents of your wardrobe. It was the best you could do. Besides, it would hopefully make a nice impression on anybody who saw you. The outfit painted a sweet, innocent, girl-next-door picture of you that you rather enjoyed. The plaid skirt went nicely with the cardigan you wore, which was perfect for the autumn chill. You promised your parents you'd be home by lunchtime, and surprisingly enough, your father let you leave without assistance. That was probably his first mistake, unbeknownst to you.
As you stepped out of the house, the October breeze hit you like an avalanche, a shiver running down your spine instantly. The shiver was also impacted by the eye contact you made once more with the man across the street, however. Your hands immediately flew to your skirt, tugging it down as much as you could to avoid judgement, earning a chuckle from the man. Although he was rather far away, you still heard his laugh and it sent an unfamiliar warmth to your core. You shuddered at your own avidity. You both paused for a moment, neither of you wanting to be the first to break the gaze, until he turned on his heel and gave you one more glance before entering his own home. Relief relaxed your shoulders, and you let the huff of air you must have been holding in slip from your lips. You clutched your bag as your stomach began to ache with hunger. Maybe it would be nice to have a picnic date with yourself in the forest.
The walk to the grocery shop, which perched on a corner flooded with crates of flowers and fruits, was thankfully rather short. You picked up a punnet of berries and some cookies, receiving both lustful and judgemental looks from most of the other customers. The cashier, who just so happened to be a suited, well kept man, whom was insanely buff and broad, that owned the shop itself, simply watched you in curiosity. You smiled warmly at him and thanked him as you left, the bell on the top of the door frame dinging sharply as you stepped out. Peckish, you bit into a perfectly crimson strawberry as you made your way to the woods your father had driven past on your way to the house. The juice of the berry stained your lips as you chewed and hummed contently. It was delicious.
The leaves under your feet crunched faintly, crisp and warm toned. The forest was riddled with overgrown greenery which had now grown limp and dry, but it was beautiful all the same. Ivy creeped up the trees, embracing them tightly. The grass was somehow short amidst the dying leaves and bushes. The trees cast a shadow over the entire forest. The place had a simple yet eerie beauty to it. Perhaps you could visit here more often. You found a tree, twisted and distorted, its trunk reaching out the the ground among the thorns and nettles. You settled upon the trunk, leaning against the upward twist of it. It was a perfect place to sit and relax. This place only got better.
You'd just dug into your berry mix as you heard a deep grunt sound before you. Your gaze snapped up, meeting the intense eyes of the man across the street. Your body immediately tensed under his watch. "We must stop meeting like this," he chuckled, the same sound from earlier reverberating through his chest, which was, much like the shop keeper's, exceptionally broad and muscular, his sweater fitted just enough to outline the muscles perfectly. You smiled softly, still nervous as his eyes burned into you. He held his hand out to you, offering it as a greeting. You shook it lightly, your small hand enclosing around his in a way that made his eyes darken. You didn't notice, though. You were too busy trying not to melt under his gaze. The man was incredibly attractive - it wasn't your fault that he flustered you so much. His dark hair was gelled lightly, stray and short curls framing his face. His eyes were a vibrant and deep blue, somehow radiating an alluring darkness despite their brightness in colour. He towered over you, and you were sure he would even if you weren't sat down. His shoulders were wide and his arms were large and rugged. His jaw was defined and sharp, brushed with faint stubble which was strangely attractive. Whilst it made him look older, it made him all the more handsome. His lips were plump and pink, in a constant state of soft smiling toward you. Between his brows was a crease, similar to the kind that frustration or anger would bring. But he wasn't angry or frustrated - at least you didn't think he was. Despite the time you felt you had spent scanning the man's features, seconds had not yet even passed. He seemed to freeze time. "I'm James," he breathed, "but my friends call me Bucky," and a smirk tugged at his lips.
"How does James turn into Bucky?" You giggled, playful confusion washing over your features. He hummed a laugh, leaning nearer to you. "When you become a friend." He purred. Your smile dropped, now replaced with a blank and flustered stare, heat rising in your cheeks. Bucky could've sworn his pants got tighter as he watched the blush erupt in the apples of your cheeks. You shook your head softly, the smile returning to your lips as you composed yourself and steadied your breathing, eyes bearing into his. "I mean where did the name come from." You simpered. "My last name's Buchanan," he explained, his eyes flickering between each of yours. The moment was oddly intense, sending warm shivers through you. Your stomach broke out in frenzied butterflies. "Oh," you breathed, and with that, a content silence settled upon the both of you. After a few seconds, Bucky broke the silence. "I was just about to go on a stroll," He said smoothly, his eyes shining with mischief. "Care to join me?" And his hand brushed against yours once more.
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Comfortable silence had lingered for long enough, and Bucky wanted to hear your voice again. The leaves crunched beneath your feet as you walked, but Bucky's deep voice broke through the haze that nature's ambience has lured you into. "So, where'd you move from?" He asked, turning to peer at you as you did the same. "Leesville," you muttered, nostalgia washing over you. You'd never had the most exciting social life, but Leesville had still been your childhood home. The look of gloom that clouded your expression made Bucky's hand move on it's own. He reached towards your face, hand cupping your jaw as his thumb swiped over your lips. "Strawberry juice," he mumbled softly in response to your look of surprise. Once again, the blush he had reacted so extremely to before sprung back to life, an almost inaudible groan sounding from his throat instinctively. You blinked at him, the same blank expression settling on your face, your lips parting as you exhaled shakily. You couldn't wrap your head around how easily this man was effecting you, this stranger, this new friend.
The two of you spoke and walked until the sky began to darken, when the realisation that lunchtime had long passed hit you. A small gasp left your lips, as you spun to face Bucky. His eyebrow quirked in confusion, to which you yelped, "I was supposed to be back home for lunch!" You absentmindedly grasped his hand and began to rush back the way you came, before his hand tightened around yours, the realisation of your action falling over you. You quickly dropped your hand and continued speed walking until you passed the tree you had sat at. Huffing, and clutching your chest in exhaustion, you heard Bucky catch up with you, his strides long and steady. "I'll walk you home. Besides, you're a big girl, I'm sure your parents won't mind." He insisted. You just stared at him as he began to walk ahead of you, glancing back at you just how he had that morning, until your senses came back to you and the panic clouding your mind subsided. He was right. You were old enough to get home a whatever time you wanted - except, it was more so to do with your safety than your age.
Rounding the corner and approaching the both of your houses, Bucky cleared his throat. You looked at him expectantly, and your mouth hung slack when you processed what he had to say. "Would you like to have coffee with me tomorrow?" He'd asked. This man, this god-carved hunk, the most attractive man you'd admittedly ever seen, was asking you, a girl he'd only just met, a girl at least 10 years younger than him, out to coffee. You'd assumed he only walked with you out of politeness, because he'd bumped into you and introduced himself. You'd assumed he was only being courteous because you had just moved in. But no, he had walked with you because he, James Buchanan, wanted to walk with you. He, burly Bucky, wanted to spend time with you. It was his eyes, exploring yours in expectance, that bought you back from the depths of your thoughts. You gulped, unable to verbally accept his offer, and nodded. You were eager, don't be mistaken, but you'd never had any friends. You knew you were attractive, but to be thrown from your typical lonely state into a state of possible romance shook you. Bucky, leaving you just as he had greeted you, chuckled in response and shook his head at your obvious nervousness. "How does 11 work for you?" He asked, not even expecting a verbal answer anymore. You only nodded again, before quickly heading up your porch steps and into your strangely quiet home, leaving Bucky behind you, smirking, eyes dark and hooded.
Author's Note: Okay, I'm quite nervous to publish this... this is my first time allowing my writing to include outward sexuality. I'm hoping it isn't too cringey? This is also my first series! So I'm hoping it turns our nicely. Enjoy!!
Taglist: (comment to be added.) @chemtrails-club
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stars-at-5pm · 9 months
Text
Watch out.
Pairing : Mafia!Stucky x mafia!reader
Summary : Reader finds a camera, thinking that Steve and Bucky were recording them without their consent and reader confronts them about it.
Warnings : Swearing, stalking, confrontation, mafia, toxic ex
Type : Angst
It was about noon, you were about to go get dressed for the day as you entered your wardrobe closet. You were humming a silly song that was stuck in your head when you suddenly noticed a red light pocking at you from behind your pile of swimwear.
" wtf ? "
" is that.. ? You gotta be shitting me. I can’t believe them !! A camera ?? Christ. " you took the little camera in your hands, looking at it, searching for details. " A Loki Factory one too ? They’re disgusting. "
" Filming me ? Like that ? Ew. What a bunch of pervs."
Loki was also in the mob, you used to date him a while ago, but he was very toxic and your break up didn’t go, great.
You walked down to your kitchen where you found your two boyfriends talking and working on their computers. Steve was standing up, snacking on a sandwich while Bucky was sitting down, wearing his anti-blue light glasses (what an old man lol).
"Guys we need to talk. Now. " you said, coldly. Steve and Bucky’s gaze meet yours immediately, they tensed up feeling their jaw clenching.
" Care to explain this ? "You showed the camera in your hand " I can’t believe you guys. What about trust ? Boundaries? This is disgusting!! I thought I could trust you !! “ your face was hot and your hands shook.
" Wow wow, what’s that doll ?? I don’t know about this what- "
" Oh don’t you play dumb now !! It’s too late. I don’t want to hear any of it. I thought you guys were more than this."
" Okay let’s take a deep breath. I don’t know about this and neither does Bucky apparently. Darling, you know that we would never record you like this right ? I mean if we did, we would have gotten your consent beforehand. "
" Where did you find it anyway? "
" In my wardrobe. At the perfect angle for filming every.little.details. Guys be honest, do you really know NOTHING about THIS ? Because I swear to god I’m about to go feral. "
" Doll. " He said standing up, he was walked to you slowly, careful to not make you flinch or react badly. " We would never, and I mean NEVER do this. We love you so much. Look at me, he cupped your cheeks with his hands, we didn’t do this. we respect you. I love you. "
You let out a shaky breath, feeling a single tear roll down your cheek. This was very comforting but also very worrying, who was filming you, how long as it been, what do they do with the recordings ??
" You know, I felt even more betrayed when I realized that this little camera right here, happened to be a Loki Factory camera. I mean come on ! Buying from the enemy is a little over the limit in my opinion, I know that he isn’t a direct enemy because he hasn’t done anything against you but he’s still my ex and- "
Before you could go on longer about your rumbles, you felt two strong pairs of arms hugging you tightly. Bucky was in front of you while Steve held you from behind.
What you couldn’t see though, was the absolute anger that was burning in their eyes. They stayed calm, not wanting to make you panic, but deep inside ? They were freaking out. They felt so angry to know that they’re girl was behind literally stalked by the enemy. Especially by Loki, they hated that fucker to their core.
" Darling, I don’t want to worry you but, if you found one, there’s probably more and if it’s from Loki.. he’s probably the one stalking you. " Steve said, feeling rage filling his body.
" I dont like this, at all. We need to get out of here as fast as possible. NOW. Steve get all the security on full watch out, doll let’s get you out of here. "
" It’s okay sweetheart, you’re okay. " Steve said, as he kissed tenderly your forehead.
" See you tonight love, be safe " you were filled with anxious thoughts. Why was this happening to you, and how were the boys so.. chill about it ?..
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adulting-sucks · 1 year
Text
Outside the Storm
This is my entry for MIssy's 3.5K follower event: You were one of my first follows on here, I am happy to have the chance to participate. @saiyanprincessswanie
Summary: Steve Rogers is the most feared mobster in the Eastern US, and you had fallen for him. What happens when the love fades and you need to escape? In walks Andy Barber-is he your savior or another nightmare?
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Word count: 12,938K (Still no chill 😬)
Characters: Soft Dark Steve Rogers x Reader; Andy Barber x Reader; Jake Jensen and Reader (Platonic)
Mafia AU; Defending Jacob doesn't exist
Prompt: "No one else would get to hurt you again, you were his"
Warnings: Your media consumption is your responsibility-This story contains dark subject matter, please stay away if you cannot handle; Smut, lots and lots of Smut; Forced Anal play; angst, lots and lots if angst; Fluff
Once again, a huge shout out and thank you to @peyton-warren who kept me sane and walked me through every word. I couldn't do any of this without your support
You looked at your reflection, hardly recognizing the woman you saw, really just a shell of the person you used to be. You picked up the business card, running your fingers over the embossing on the front, turning it over to see the handwritten phone number, a number you had dialed over and over, always hanging up after the first ring.
You continued staring at your face, noticing new lines, feeling as if your youth was gone, your soul having survived a thousand lives. You stared at the name on the card, again twirling it over and over, dialing and hanging up. Until you didn’t.
“I’ll meet you tomorrow, one o’clock, the place we first met,” you said after you heard the click connecting your call. You hung up, not allowing time for a response, your heart pounding, blood rushing, your ears roaring.
You hid the card in your purse, a secret pocket only you knew about, knowing if he ever found it, you were dead. Steve Rogers was not a man you betrayed, yet with one call, you had sealed your fate, no turning back now.
You stared at your reflection, seeing nothing of the girl you were when you fell in love with the head of the largest mafia syndicate in New York, hell over all of the East Coast. That girl was dead, replaced with an older woman, one who was tired. You stood and walked over to your bed knowing sleep would elude you again.
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You weren’t sure how you were able to do it, but you managed to leave the house unnoticed and alone, something that didn’t happen too often. Steve didn’t like you being alone with so many enemies who would do anything to get to him, even hurting you.
You sat at your regular table in the corner where you could see everything yet remain unseen, blending into the area around you. You sipped your soda, your eyes continuously scanning everything. He walked in just as your eyes made it to the door, your heart thundering in your chest, hands shaking.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” Andy Barber said as he sat across from you, a gentle smile on his face. “I know the risk you’re taking, I know what I am asking of you-” he continued, pausing at your scoff and eye roll.
“Do you really, Mr, Barber? What you’re asking of me will cost me my life, not that there’s much left of it anyhow,” you retorted, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “Look, I will hear you out, I will take every word into consideration. But if I do this, I vanish, as if I never existed, and Rogers will never find me. Those are my terms.”
Andy shook his head in agreement, willing to give you everything you asked for for intel on Steve Rogers. He had built his career on doing the right thing, fighting the bad guys, and Andrew Barber was fucking good at his job. But getting to put Steve Rogers away for life, effectively crumbling the New York crime syndicate would be life changing. Steve Rogers was ruthless and cold, yet smart.
“I understand your hesitation but I will do everything in my power to get you out alive.” Andy placed his hand on top of yours, squeezing it to reassure you. You met Andy’s gaze, trusting him almost immediately, trying to ignore the warmth of his touch.
“Okay, when do we start?” you asked, your stomach somersaulting, a feeling you hadn’t had in a long while; you liked Andrew Barber. He was handsome, devastatingly so, his blue eyes so piercing they seemed to see your very soul. You liked how soft his skin was, the way his smile reached every feature on his face, so genuine. You wondered what his lips felt like, how his hands would feel exploring every inch of your bare skin as he kissed every part of you.
“Are you okay?” Andy asked, his voice cutting through your very sinful thoughts, thoughts that had you squeezing your thighs together. “Do you think you can start now, we can record everything for the record. I have an office no one knows about, one rented under a pseudonym by the district attorney's office just for cases like this.” Andy rubbed his thumb over your knuckle, soothing your anxiety, almost as if he had known you all your life.
“Yeah, okay. But we need to go now, and I will do it all at once. Steve thinks I’m at my mother’s house for the next week; I told him she was ill. It’s the only reason I was able to slip away unnoticed.” You looked out the window, wondering if this was truly the right thing to do. You had loved Steve Rogers once, did you still?
“I know how dangerous this is, and I wouldn’t ask it of you if I didn’t think you could handle it. Your strength is quiet, but strong. And if those marks are any indication of your life, then Rogers needs to go away for good.” Andy watched you shift in your seat, self consciously adjusting your jacket.
“Make no mistake, Mr. Barber. I am not a battered woman. These marks are for everyone else, so they know who I belong to. Steve has never hit me, never once laid a hand on me. These marks are the result of his love, of his fucking me into the ground.” You held his gaze, no shame in your words at all; Steve Rogers was a damn good fuck, the best you’d had.
“Be that as it may, it doesn’t change anything. Rogers needs to go away, and you need a new life. That is what I will give you, I promise. And please, call me Andy.” He smiled gently, your hand still in his grasp, his eyes never leaving yours, never showing one ounce of judgment.
You cleared your throat, unable to hold Andy’s gaze. No man had ever looked at you the way Andy was, not even Steve. “Well, Andy, let’s get this going. The sooner it’s done, the sooner I will disappear.” You grabbed your purse, leaving a hundred dollar bill on the table. Andy stood, leading you out to his car. There was no turning back now, even if you wanted to.
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Steve’s POV
Steve pulled into the driveway happy to finally be home. He had been away for almost two weeks, and he couldn’t wait to see you. And fuck you. He had tried to sate his need with other women, but none of them could ever amount to you. You were perfect. Your hair, your skin, your pussy. He had turned you into the perfect woman, and he made sure to mark you everytime he buried his cock in you.
Steve made sure he had everything, almost forgetting the jewelry he had gotten you. The soft velvet housed a gorgeous white gold necklace and ring set, beautiful alexandrite in the center, small diamonds surrounding both in a teardrop shape. Steve knew you loved colored and rare gems, just how he saw you. Stunning and rare.
Steve still remembered the first time he saw you, standing outside of the lecture hall, laughing with the president of the most popular fraternity on campus, your hand resting on his arm. In that moment, Steve wanted to kill any man who even looked at you, and from then on, you were his. Everyone knew who Steve Rogers was, and Steve Rogers always got what he wanted.
Steve opened the door, surprised at how dark the house was, wondering where you were. You weren’t normally gone this late. He pulled his phone out, shooting a text to his head of security to see where you were as he wasn’t used to not knowing your location at all times. Hell, he’d even hired your best friend as head of his technology section. Jake Jensen was such a goofy motherfucker, he never once worried about you being alone with him.
As he waited for a response to his text, he pulled up the tracking app he had installed on your phone without your knowledge, one of the many secrets he had paid Jensen handsomely to keep confidential. He saw your phone showing at the hospital near your mother’s home, his concern and wariness growing.
He shot a text off asking if everything was okay with your mom, setting your present down, losing his tie and shirt. He made his way to his office, poured himself a bourbon as he waited for your reply. You’d never given him a reason to not trust you, but there was something about this that didn’t sit right with him.
His head of security texted back to let Steve know you’d been called away earlier by an emergency, your mom had collapsed and was found unconscious by her home health nurse. The agency had you listed as her emergency contact, calling you about her hospital admission.
Steve was considering this story when his phone rang, you on the other end. He listened as you explained the days events, the steady beep of the heart monitor playing in the background of the conversation. You told him it would be about a week before you’d be home, even with the home health nurses on duty. Steve, of course, told you not to worry about anything but your mother, that he would be here waiting, and to call him if you needed anything at all. He asked if you’d like him to join you once he returned, not revealing that he had already arrived home from his business trip. You told him it was fine and that you’d see him at home, ending with telling him you loved and missed him.
Steve hung up, alarm bells ringing in his head. He immediately called Jensen, commanding round the clock monitoring of your location and communication, to be reported directly to him. Steve poured himself another glass, staring into the fire. He wasn’t sure what would happen or what he would find, but hopefully it was just a feeling.
He drained the rest of his drink, leaving your present on his desk as he headed to his bedroom. He hadn’t slept in about a day and exhaustion was catching up to him. Steve decided to go straight to sleep, changing into flannel bottoms with no shirt, sinking directly into bed, his dreams sending him into even more concern and chaos.
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Flashback
You remembered the first time you saw Steve Rogers, his large shoulders, striking blue eyes, classically handsome looks all focused on you as if you were the only person besides him to exist. You found yourself pulled into the orbit of his space and you honestly felt you were finally where you belonged.
Steve introduced himself, his gaze never wavering from yours as you told him your name, the other man all but forgotten. You knew about Steve Rogers, everyone did, but you never thought Steve Rogers would care about someone like you.
He walked along with you, stopping to offer a ride when you realized you’d missed the last bus back to your apartment. You were hesitant, stranger danger and all, but you found yourself unable to say no, almost as if the world would shatter if you did.
The drive was comfortable, as if you two had known each other all your lives. And maybe for you, you had. Steve Rogers was everything you’d dreamed of, the man of every dream you’d ever had. Tall, nice, focused solely on you and you alone, even if you two had just met. You’d never had that in your life, always feeling invisible or unseen compared to your friends.
Steve listened as you talked about your goals, veterinary school always your dream since you could talk. You had always had a better connection with animals, humans had always managed to let you down or disappoint somehow. You had just finished your second year of your post graduate degree, your clinicals starting in a few days. You’d only been at the school to pick up your rotation for the next semester.
Steve had never been one for love or relationships; he’d learned early in life that you couldn’t trust or depend on anyone but yourself, something his father had always made sure he remembered, especially once he had started learning the business. The Family Fucking Business as the movies liked to say. Every time he watched The Godfather or Goodfellas, he always had a good laugh-nothing about his life was glamorous or pretty. Well, nothing until he met you.
He could listen to you talk all day, every minute, his life finally finding purpose outside of fortune and power. He was lost in the mellifluous sound of your voice and realized he’d missed the last five minutes of your conversation. You laughed at his confusion, finding yourself also lost in him.
He walked you up, stopping outside your door as he tried to memorize every last detail he could, not knowing when or if you would want to see him again. As you stood watching him, trying to find any reason not to say goodbye, you threw all caution to the wind, suddenly finding the courage to do something you never would have.
You stood on the tips of your toes, snaking your arms around Steve’s neck, and before you could change your mind, placed your lips on his. You felt Steve still and wondered if you’d just humiliated yourself until you felt him relax, a hand on your lower back, the other on your cheek as he leaned into the kiss, taking over.
You don’t know how long the kiss actually was, all you knew was the burning in your lungs finally forced you apart. You rested your forehead against his, both of you gulping in breaths of fresh air. Steve pulled back, his cheeks flushed as he continued stroking your cheek softly with his thumb, the trail of heat still on your skin as you allowed yourself to look at him.
You stood in silence, both too lost in each other to say a word. Steve asked for your phone number after a few minutes of being silent and still, handing over his phone as you held your hand out. You typed your number then called yourself to save Steve’s, placing one more kiss on his lips before you ran into your apartment and locked the door.
You leaned against the closed door, your heart pounding, your stomach fluttering wildly, brushing your fingers over your lips where you still felt his. You squealed in delight, scaring the kitten you’d just brought home from class after you performed an amputation on his tail caused by a deep infection which would not heal.
You picked up Nubbins, happy in a way you’d never experienced before. You were always the quiet one who was only spoken to when men were trying to hit on your friends, you were never the main character in any story. Yet, this man you’d only known for two hours had changed all of that. You heard him chuckle and wish you a good evening with the promise you would hear from him soon.
You made dinner and started going over your schedule for the next semester, your favorite movie droning on in the background when you heard your phone vibrate. You jumped, the noise scaring you for a moment as you weren’t used to anyone really texting you. Nubbins grumbled and yawned, moving to sit on the other end of your bed after you had so rudely disturbed his sleep.
You saw Steve in your banner notifications, your heart skipping a beat. He couldn’t wait any longer to talk to you, and you couldn’t be happier about not playing it cool. You texted with Steve well into the night, falling asleep past one in the morning. You knew you’d be tired for your first shift at the local shelter, your meeest clinical site, but it was completely worth it.
You woke up at six, heading to the shower first thing as per your normal morning routine. You dressed quickly, almost forgetting your phone on the way out the door. You had just locked up and finally opened your phone to check the time so you didn’t miss your bus. You heard your name as you came down the front steps, looking up to see Steve standing there with a cup of coffee.
You flushed, not used to having someone take care of you like this. Steve opened up the car door for you, making sure you were buckled in before he made his way to the drivers side. He asked for the name of the shelter, putting it in his GPS as he pulled away from the curb,
From that moment on, you never took another bus again. Steve was always there to pick you up and take you home, sending one of his most trusted men if he was working or out of town. Steve took you to dinner, to musicals, the movies, anything you wanted to do, Steve made sure you did.
The next two years continued like this, Steve being the loudest one at your graduation, your biggest cheerleader through all of it. Nubbins adored him, and you had to admit your heart melted every time you saw your large and cold man enraptured by a tiny ball of floof, finding Nubbins napping on Steve many times.
The sex was always amazing, right from the start. Steve was used to women falling all over themselves for a chance at him, even if for only one night. You, however, you didn’t. You wouldn’t sleep with him until you were sure the connection between the two of you was genuine. You weren’t playing hard to get, nor were you frothing at the mouth for a taste of him. Steve had never met anyone like you, and once he had tasted you, he was never letting you go.
The first time with Steve was straight out of one of your favorite romantic movies: slow, sweet, and incredibly sensual. You’d made your way to his house after dinner, heading in for a nightcap. As you sat and talked, you realized you were ready, you wanted to take this leap now.
You put your glass on the table grabbing Steve’s and placing it next to yours, moving onto Steve’s lap, straddling him as you started to kiss. You felt his hands move down your back, one coming to settle on your hip, the other in your hair as he held you close.
He groaned as you rolled your hips over his lap, feeling his cock harden beneath you, causing you to moan and roll your hips again, trying to find any type of friction.
Steve pulled back, pushing your hair out of your face, his hand caressing your cheek as he stared deeply, asking if you were sure that you were ready, that this is what you wanted. You nodded silently, never breaking eye contact as you felt him lift you from the couch, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to his bedroom.
He kissed you deeply, moving you softly and gently to the bed, propping your head on his pillows. He kneeled between your legs, kissing you again, moving from your mouth to the shell of your ears, down your neck to the swell of your breasts.
He kissed down your stomach, his hands landing under your shirt and pushing it up, his lips following the trail of his fingers. You arched your back up to allow him to remove your shirt, so completely lost in the sensation of his touch and tongue. He removed your bra as he made his way back down your neck, his eyes locked with yours as he took one nipple in his mouth, the other in his hand.
You had never remembered being this sensitive, every lave of his tongue, every nibble of teeth, every kiss sending electric shocks up and down your body, your mind filled with nothing but Steve Rogers. He switched breasts, paying just as much attention to your other nipple, the cool air sending goosebumps down your flesh.
He kissed down your stomach, his hands moving to your pants, unbuttoning them and pushing them slowly down, making sure he kissed every inch of skin down one leg and up the other as he dropped your pants to the floor. Your hands moved onto his head, twining in his hair as he nosed your clothed pussy, your scent already intoxicating to him.
He rubbed up and down over your lace thong, fascinated with the wet patch forming from his ministrations, your grip on his hair tightening the more he teased. He finally hooked his thumbs under the waistband, all patience lost as he ripped them off easily, his mouth finding your clit immediately.
You cried out, his mouth so warm and wet against your cunt, every nerve firing off with pleasure as he sucked and licked, inserting two fingers in. You cried out again and again, the sudden fullness mixed with his suckling hurtling you over the edge, your orgasm immediate and hard.
He worked you through it, his cock straining against his pants as he watched you fall apart. You came a second time, crying out, barely registering the loss of his mouth before you felt him slowly slide his dick in, your walls grabbing on tight. He swore he had never felt a pussy this good, and from this moment on, it was only for him.
As you came back to reality, you found your hips moving in time with his, slow and steady as he fucked you, his forehead resting on yours, his eyes locked onto your face as he kept taking you apart. You opened your eyes, completely lost in the sensations your body was experiencing.
Steve hooked an arm under your right leg, allowing him to fuck you deeper and deeper, his fingers gripping your hip so tightly you knew would leave marks of the best kind. You told him not to stop, begging Steve to fuck you harder, slower, deeper again, cumming for a third time when you felt his hand drop to your already sensitive clit. You felt his rhythm stutter, his thrusts growing more sharp until he came, filling you up so completely you weren’t sure where you began and Steve ended, your bodies and souls wrapped in one sweaty shell, both trying to catch your breath.
Steve had you over and over, his appetite for you never diminishing even as the night turned to morning. He finally let you rest, your body curled around his as you fell asleep so easily. He held you as he also allowed exhaustion to take him, waking a short while later. He wanted you again but made himself let you rest as he went to make some food for you both. He didn’t have any plans for the rest of the weekend, as far as he was concerned, his only job was to fuck you over and over until you had to work on Monday. And Steve took that job very seriously indeed.
You’d never felt so beautiful, so wanted as you did when Steve was buried inside you, your taste all over his face after spending hours with his mouth in your pussy. You had tried to reciprocate his selflessness only for Steve to push you back down and make you forget your previous attempts. You wanted his dick in your mouth, his cum pouring down your throat, but that wouldn’t happen yet. At that moment, it was all about you, learning to read every moan, every gasp, every touch that made you sing.
It would be another month or so before you were able to fulfill your need to suck his cock. You were relaxing in his office, studying for your boards, Steve outside on the phone for business, and in that moment, you couldn’t help yourself. Watching him pace, yelling and frustrated, his veins were popping out of his neck, You watched him slam his phone down, your eyes drawn to the power this man exuded by simply existing.
You waited until Steve had calmed down and made his way back inside, dropping into his chair behind the desk. You poured him a glass of bourbon, setting it down in front of him, running your fingers through his hair as he hugged you. You dropped a kiss on his head, feeling him relax into you.
You couldn’t stop the need blooming through you, just the touch of his fingers creating a heat you could no longer ignore, nor did you want to. You lifted his face, peppering kisses down his cheek, over his jaw to the other side, moving from his face to his neck, licking and biting as you went.
Steve moved his head back, allowing you easier access to him as he wound his hands in your hair, tightening his grip the lower you went. You dropped to your knees, spreading his thighs to make room as you ran your hands up his legs, stopping at his belt. You looked up at him, silently waiting for approval, and so happy you’d decided to leave your hair down, your scalp tingling with each tightening grip.
Steve looked down, lust blown features over his face, twisting in ecstasy as your fingers ran over the bulge in his pants. With one nod, barely perceptible, you unfastened his belt, slipped your hands beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, and pulled both down as Steve lifted his hips.
Your mouth watered at the sight, his cock hard and leaking. It took everything in you not to immediately shove him down your throat, but you held back, placing long licks up his shaft, stopping to suck the tip in before licking your way back down.
Each lick caused a sigh, each time you sucked just the tip, it caused him to pull your hair tighter, his hips lifting off the chair to push down your throat more. You lifted his cock, moving to suck his balls into your mouth, causing you to smile when your heard a moaned and strangled fuck leave his mouth.
You couldn’t deny how beautiful and sexy you felt in this moment, bringing this powerful man to his knees, a feeling you hadn’t felt often. You finally stopped teasing, your lips wrapping around Steve as you slowly worked your way down, taking a deep breath, starting to exhale as you worked his dick down the back of your throat, humming to relax enough to let him in and remind you to breathe.
You felt his hands tighten the more you swallowed, until you stilled, your drool running down. You looked up at Steve, waiting for him to relax. Once he stilled and his breathing was a little slower, you started to move, allowing him to fuck your throat, his taste filling your senses.
You allowed Steve to take over, his hips thrusting more and more, harder and harder as he worked towards his own end, your drool dripping down his balls onto the floor, and as you looked up at him, he swore he had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.
You felt him start to thrust faster as his breathing quickened, moans and fucks falling freely from his mouth. You continued to let him lead, finally sated as he spilled his cum down your throat, his taste permanently seared into your memory as you swallowed it all down, waiting for Steve to release your hair before you moved.
As Steve slowly relaxed his hold on you, you made your way up, releasing his already softening cock from your mouth, making sure you swallowed every last drop. Steve grabbed you, settling you on his lap as he kissed you deeply, completely possessive as he tasted himself on you.
You should have seen the warnings then, felt the shift in Steve, but you were so in love, you missed it all. He loved you, he adored you, he worshiped you and your body. It started slowly, little marks here and there, nothing you couldn’t cover.
Eventually, it all changed. Steve marked you every time he took you, making sure everyone around knew exactly who you belonged to. He moved you into his home while you were at work, something you’d only spoken about, but hadn’t made a final decision on, and before you had a chance to discuss it with him, he showered you with gifts including a ring you’d had your eye on for a while. He made sure to fuck you so completely and thoroughly; it worked. You never broached the subject again, accepting this as your home.
Life continued on, and with each passing day, Steve’s obsession grew more and more. He wanted to know where you were every hour. He would text and if there was no immediate response, he would call. You made the mistake of not answering once while you were working; when you got home, Steve immediately took you upstairs and threw you down on the bed, tying your hands above your head.
You’d discussed exploring certain kinks, but this wasn’t about that. This was about ownership, obedience-you didn’t answer the phone, you needed to be punished, something to remind you who was in charge. That’s exactly what he did, edging you for hours, tears pouring down your face as you begged for release, your tear-filled promises music to Steve’s ears.
Once he finally let you cum, you thought that was it, but Steve wasn’t done with you. He spent the next hour making you cum over and over again, until your body went limp. You’d passed out, the last four hours too much on your body. Steve removed your restraints, and left you to grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom, cleaning you gently before gathering you to his chest. You woke up hours later, your body sore, warm from Steve’s body covering yours.
You were thrown into the dark side of this relationship, punishment becoming more frequent and painful. Steve wanted to make sure you remembered who you belonged with, belonged to, who loved you. You didn’t want to make anything worse, but sometimes your mind asked if this was actually love. And in those moments of doubt, Steve would be kind, he would be caring, he wouldn’t mark you as he fucked you.
In those moments, Steve was more of the man you fell in love with, less of the man who made you question your life with him. In those moments, he would hold you, kiss you, tell you how you had made him the luckiest man in the world. He would make love to you, show you off to people at any functions he attended.
In those moments, you were his shining light. You made him feel, something he thought he had lost the ability to do. Then he would flip a switch, the mere thought of you with someone else causing his jealousy to rise. Those moments were the worst.
Not only were you marked all over, you were fucked too hard and before you were wet, your screams of pain fueling his thrusts. He would take you any way her wanted; your pussy, your ass, your mouth and all you could do was allow him.
The longer this happened, the harder it was for you to hide your bruises, to walk without pain, making you quit your job. The more questions people asked, the more ashamed you became. Yet, in his own twisted way, you just accepted that this was what love was for Steve, therefore this is what love was for you.
You cannot remember the exact moment you decided maybe this wasn’t love, that maybe you weren’t meant to be with someone who had to make sure you and everyone around him knew who you were and who you belonged to. You became a toy, an object for him to display, to bend and mold to his will.
The first time you really learned about his work was a day unlike any other; it was the day your view of Steven Grant Rogers shifted into something irreparable. You had handed in your resignation and made your way home early, upset at losing something you had worked so hard for.
You headed to the bedroom to undress, stepping into a hot shower where you finally allowed yourself time to mourn your career. You loved animals, you loved helping them, and you had to walk away from that because Steve finally broke something inside your soul.
You dressed quickly and made your way to the kitchen. Steve wasn’t usually home this time of day, so you were looking forward to having the house to yourself for a while. You had to get every negative emotion out now or you would pay later.
You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing your favorite bottle of wine on the counter, opening the fridge to make something to eat. As you were making your sandwich, you heard a thump from the basement. Putting down your wine, you grabbed the largest knife in the butcher block as you made your way down.
You heard the thumping continue followed by groans, the noise getting louder the deeper you went. Your heart was thudding loudly, your only thought being you hope Steve wouldn’t be mad when he found your dead body.
As you rounded the corner, you stopped dead. In front of you was Steve, flushed from exertion. You watched as he punched a man restrained by chains hanging from the ceiling. You weren’t allowed downstairs ever, and now you knew why.
You watched Steve beat this man over and over, your mouth twisted in horror. This wasn’t the man you loved. This was a psychotic monster dressed to look like Steve. You watched the stranger’s blood splash with each hit, spraying all over Steve’s dress shirt, his knuckles bruised and bloodied.
You shoved your fist in your mouth to stifle your heavy breathing, willing your feet to move, to leave before you were caught, but you were frozen. The stranger looked over at you, his face swollen, but you saw him ask for your help.
You turned and ran before Steve caught you, the last sound to follow you out was screaming which ended with a gunshot. You ran upstairs and hid in the walk in closet, tears streaming down your face.
You’d always heard the rumors and whispers about the business Steve was in, but you never fully believed what anyone said. Now you knew just how naive you had truly been. You heard the door to the basement open, Steve’s voice carrying through the house as he gave directions to his right hand on removing the body.
You jumped as you heard him make his way upstairs, running to the bathroom and turning the shower on to hide yourself from Steve, and maybe also to try and wash away what you’d just witnessed. You quickly undressed and showered again, staying in for as long as you could.
You wrapped yourself in your robe, took a deep breath and opened the door to the bathroom, faking a look of surprise at seeing Steve home. He looked up at you, his clothes changed and blood free. He asked what you were doing at home, you said you had quit your job today and came home early.
As you walked to the closet to get some clothes, your heart once again thudded in your chest. You were scared it was so loud, Steve would be able to hear. You jumped when you felt Steve behind you, his hands working your robe off. You leaned back into him, afraid he would know the truth if you didn’t accept his affection.
Steve kissed your shoulders, up your neck, stopping at your ear. He whispered he knew you were lying and asked why you had been downstairs, his hand gripping your arm in a bruising grip. He grabbed your hair, pulling you to the bed as he bent you over, working his pants and boxer briefs down his legs, freeing his already hard cock.
You cried as he spit on your asshole, his cock in hand as he stroked it slowly. You begged for lube, for anything to prepare you for this invasion, but it fell on deaf ears as he pushed into you. As you felt him stretch your already abused hole, you hated the betrayal of your body, your cunt growing wet with each thrust.
Steve was relentless, fucking you slow at first, trying to allow you time to adjust before he started to fuck you deeply. You felt his hand reach around and gather your slick as he worked your clit. Your tears stained the bed, whether from pleasure or pain, you weren’t sure. You hated that he could make you feel so good while taking what he wanted with no concern for you.
He rubbed your clit harder, your orgasm rushing over you as you came all over his hand. You felt his thrusts quicken, however you weren’t able to keep track as he made you cum again and again. You finally felt him stiffen, your hole filled with his cum as he continued to fuck you through both of your orgasms, his dick softening with each twitch, your skin raw and irritated as his cum leaked out.
You sobbed quietly, long after he’d pulled out and left you limp on the bed, heading to the bathroom to clean himself off. He came back in the room, stooping down to whisper in your ear that you knew the rules. Downstairs was off limits and lying about it was why the punishment was so rough, dropping a kiss on your cheek leaving to change his clothes and head back down.
You laid on the bed, your tears soaking the sheets, unable to move, disgusted as you felt Steve’s cum leaking out of you. After what felt like hours, you finally stopped sobbing and lifted yourself off the bed, crawling on your hands and knees to the bathroom. You filled the tub with hot water, gently lowering yourself into the bath, the water stinging your sore and abused hole.
You sat in the water with your knees pulled up to your chin until the bath had turned cold and you started shivering. Only then did you stand up and wrap yourself in your fluffy robe, heading towards the closet carefully as you were still in intense pain.
You turned to look at the bed, still covered with cum, yours and Steve’s, but you couldn’t bring yourself to lay down. You opened the door, cautiously looking around for Steve, and made your way down to the guest bedroom. You laid down, covering yourself with the blanket as you started quietly sobbing once more, finally falling asleep once you’d cried all you could, which became the new normal for you.
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Present Day
As you finished up the history behind you and Steve, Andy sat quietly, his attention focused only on you. You couldn’t meet his gaze, afraid you would see pity there. Pity was the last thing you wanted, especially from a man you’d known for twelve hours.
You stood and made your way to the table where you’d set your purse down, reaching in to grab your insurance. You walked back to Andy and placed the drive in front of him.
“This is everything I have on Steve. Names, positions, wives, girlfriends, everything you need to put not only him away, but many of those around him also.”
“How were you able to compile this without him knowing?” Andy asked, impressed by your strength and courage.
“My best friend growing up is a tech genius, former special ops. He has been helping me for a while. He created a software program that feeds from all known and unknown government databases. Facial recognition, full background checks, anything that has ever been documented, dark web shit too. I would get a lot of information from the wives. Get a little wine in them and they talk a lot. I would feed this to Jake and he would gather all of the intel he had and match it with what I was told.”
Andy got up and disappeared into another room, returning with his laptop. He plugged the drive in and opened the encrypted files with the password you gave to him. As he watched everything open, he realized that this was it. This was everything he needed to take down not only Steve, but most of his payroll, some high ranking officials and politicians. What Andy was looking at was a nuclear weapon and he held the code.
You sat quietly as Andy worked, your mind wandering back to Steve. You knew this would seal your fate and you would never see him again. You weren’t sure how you felt, or how you were supposed to feel. You were relieved because you would no longer be his prisoner, yet you grieved the loss of him. There was a time you were so in love with Steve, you couldn’t wait to be his wife. Now, you couldn’t even stomach looking at him let alone him touching you.
“This is it. This is everything I need to make sure Steve never hurts you again, or anyone else for that matter. Once I do this, once I make the call and blow this up, you can never go back again. Do you understand what I’m saying? Do you still want to do this?” Andy turned and grabbed your hands, his thumb rubbing a soothing motion.
“I’m sure, but I do have some requests. I disappear immediately when you are done with me. I don’t need anything, I have a sizable amount of money stashed away. I want a new city, a new name, and I want to be able to practice again eventually, in some capacity. I can do shelter medicine, work somewhere small, I don’t care. I just want some part of my life back.”
“I can make you disappear, I will be the only person who knows where you are. My plan is to keep you hidden the entire trial, which should be quick with everything you’ve given me. After the trial is done and I’m sure Steve and everyone associated with him are gone, once I’ve done this, I will make sure to find a way for you to resume your veterinary career.”
You didn’t know why, and this was something you didn’t think you’d ever be able to do again after Steve, but you trusted Andy. You believed every word he said; you couldn’t be sure if it was because you truly did or if it was wishful thinking, but right now you couldn’t care less. Right now, he was here and he was keeping you alive.
“I have an idea for your friend. I will have to make some calls and see what can be done, but this database he’s built would be an amazing asset to our government. FBI, CIA, every branch of the military, this would change the face of national security for the better. Would he be open to something like that?”
“I would need to verify this with him the next time he checks in and updates me on Steve, but I don’t think he’d turn you down at all.” You smiled, grasping Andy’s hand tightly, your feelings bittersweet. You looked up to see Andy staring deeply at you, his face etched with worry and pride. You tried to ignore the flutter of your heart at his gaze, reminding yourself this was just another business proposition for Andy, nothing more.
“Well, I think I will try and get some sleep.” You stood, clearing your throat to cover the sudden rush of emotion in your voice. “Were your men able to get me everything I asked for?” you inquired as you moved to grab your purse. You wanted to shower, take your Ambien and sleep if possible. Insomnia had been your constant roommate the last year or so, why would tonight be any different?
“Um, yes, yeah. They put the bags in the master bedroom for you. I’ve made up the bed, there’s a bathroom in the room for you so you will have complete privacy. There’s a television and any streaming channel you could possibly want. I will make sure to have someone bring your cat to you once we’ve made the arrest.” Andy stood to guide you to the room you would call home for the next week or so.
“I don’t want to take your bedroom, please don’t let me be a bother at all. The guest room or any couch will be perfectly fine.” You followed Andy down the hall, finally agreeing to take the master suite. You walked over to the bed and started looking through all of the items and clothes that had been left. You couldn’t wait to step into a piping hot shower, letting the world fade away for just a bit.
“Well, I will leave you. If you need anything, please let me know. I will most likely be working out in the living room. There are snacks and food in the fridge, anything you want is yours.” Andy moved to stand in front of you, lifting your chin up so you would look at him. “It’s almost over, I promise. Now, try and rest, I will check in on you later.”
You thanked Andy, your skin still warm from his touch, and you could have sworn you saw something in his face, his eyes, something that made your stomach flutter and your heart pound. You shook your head telling yourself Andy could have his pick of any woman, the last thing he needed was one as broken as you.
You made your way to the bathroom stripping as you went, the bag of toiletries in your hand. The shower was hot and soothing, your back finding relief from the tension coiled there. As you stood under the hot stream, you cried. You cried for the loss of yourself, you cried for the loss of your love, you cried at the sheer relief of escape. You cried until you had nothing left.
You turned the shower off, and stepped out, so thankful Andy had the men pick up a fluffy robe. You wrapped yourself tightly and stood before the mirror, wiping the steam to look at your reflection. You applied your moisturizer, brushed your teeth, and made your way to the bed to change. You sat down and grabbed the sleep medication from your purse, taking two. It had been days since you had actually slept, and all you wanted for tonight was a chance to escape.
You laid down, your phone in hand as you scrolled through your updates from Jake. You texted from the burner phone Jake had set up for you, completely untraceable by anyone. Jake created this phone just for you and that thought had you in tears again. If it hadn’t been for Jake, you would never have been able to do this. You’d have been stuck in this endless cycle with Steve.
You responded to let Jake know what was going on, catching him up on your conversation with Andy, your requests, and how things were going to proceed. Jake begged you to be safe, letting you know he would check in with you tomorrow. You said goodnight and dropped the phone back in your purse.
You turned on the TV, and found one of your favorite movies streaming. As you leaned back against the pillows, you drifted off to sleep immediately, your meds and pure exhaustion kicking in. You hadn’t even changed your clothes, still dressed in only your robe on top of the bed, dreamless for a few hours, the only amount of rest your brain would allow.
You tossed and turned, your voice strangled as you tried to wake up, but you couldn’t out run him. Steve was all around and no matter where you turned, he was there. You tried to climb out of the darkness, but it enveloped you, blinding and suffocating you. You jumped up, gasping for air as you felt a pair of strong hands on your arms.
You screamed, thinking Steve had found you, completely forgetting where you were. Andy continued to hold you, trying to keep you from hurting yourself as you continued to blindly fight. Andy grabbed you, pulling you tightly into his embrace, holding you as you started to calm down, your tears wetting his shirt as you sobbed.
You finally calmed down enough to pull back and see the worried look on Andy’s face as he still held you, you finally relaxing into his embrace. You felt safe as Andy gently rocked you back and forth, his hand rubbing your back. Andy didn’t ask you about it and you didn’t offer any explanation, but you knew he understood where the panic had stemmed from.
You started to breathe evenly, your eyes slowly starting to close as you were lulled back to sleep by Andy. You startled awake when you felt him lay you down and cover you with the blanket. As he turned to leave the room, you grabbed his hand and pleaded with him not to leave you alone. Tonight, you needed him, not realizing that this was the exact moment your feelings started shifting towards this man and away from the one who hurt you while claiming it was love.
ANDY’S POV
Andy laid back down, staying above the covers, pulling you back to him, his arm around your waist as you quickly fell asleep again. What you didn’t know is that Andy was feeling the exact same shift in emotions, having been single for so long. Not to say Andy was a monk, but he had only accepted the physical from another person, always scared to make the emotional commitment too. All of that was different with you.
He thought you the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, everything from your hair to your smile instantly making him an addict. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to get you alone long enough to let you know who he was and what he wanted, but he was damn sure going to try.
He learned your patterns, watching you for about two weeks, non stop. He wouldn’t let anyone else do this, he needed you to trust him. He had seen the pictures, the marks, old ones fading while new ones littered your skin. He hadn’t given you enough credit though, which is how you surprised him when you turned around and asked him why he had been following you.
Andy was so impressed, you had rendered him speechless. As he stumbled to find the words, he almost felt like he was back in high school and talking to his crush for the first time. When he finally found his voice, he handed you his card, his personal cell phone written on the back. No one outside of his job had this number, Andy always trying to keep those around him safe. And now, you were the most important thing to him, the one thing he wanted to protect and cherish for the rest of your lives.
Andy felt crazy. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but his first look at you had sealed his fate. You accepted the card, turning to head back to your car. Andy watched you pull away, looking away only when your car was out of his line of sight. Andy didn’t think you’d call. He thought it was going to take a few more encounters.
He waited every day, still making sure to keep you under his watch, even when you were at home. He knew what he was risking, but he couldn’t let you go. You called while he watched the light in your room turn on, making himself wait before he answered the call.
You agreed to meet him, and the moment he sat down across from you, he knew this was it. He was done. You had ruined him for any other woman. He couldn’t help but grab your hand to soothe you as you started to talk, Andy hanging on every word you said. When you agreed to leave with him, well, he couldn’t remember a time in his life that he had ever felt this happy.
He had never let anyone into his home before, always worried about privacy and protection, but with you, there was no other place he wanted you to be. He listened as you recounted you life with Steve, jealous at the way you spoke about Steve in the beginning, then wanting nothing more than to murder him with his bare hands by the end.
He didn’t pity you, he knew you didn’t need nor want that from him. He admired you, your strength, something he had never witnessed before. He was impressed at your ability to compile all of the necessary information before Andy even came into the mix. You were brave, you were fearless, and this only made Andy fall for you even more.
He not only learned about Steve, he also learned about you. He learned your passions, your likes, your dislikes, he learned what made you happy and what made you angry, he learned about you, the real you; the you who you thought was dead and buried. He learned it all, committing every last detail to memory. When all of this was done and Steve was locked away, he would give you all of this and more. He would give you anything you asked for.
He had wanted to kiss you when he walked you to the bedroom. Seeing you standing there in his space, his most sacred area in all of the world, it unlocked something inside of him. He wanted to grab you and kiss you stupid, but he knew you weren’t ready for that. He made himself leave, immediately making his way to the bar for another drink. It took all of his strength not to kiss you, throw you down on the bed and taste you until you couldn’t remember your own name, let alone Steve’s. He wanted to show you how you deserved to be treated, how you were the most important thing ever to exist.
He listened as the shower turned on, and all he could think about was the hot water running down your breasts, your hand running along your body, your cunt warm and inviting. He felt his pants tighten, his thoughts only on your naked body. He imagined himself between your thighs, one thrown over his shoulder as he ate you out, your wet pussy dripping your essence down his face. He imagined your scent trapped in his beard, his fingers coated in your slick as you came over and over.
He loosened his belt, opening his pants and pulling them down enough to free his thick and hard cock, the head coated in his precum. He gathered it on his hand, grabbed his dick and slowly started to stroke his shaft, making sure to wipe the tip every time he reached the top.
He imagined you turned around your face pressed against the wall as he entered from behind, your tight and warm pussy hugging him perfectly, as if it was made only for you. He started to stroke faster and faster as he pictured himself slowly fucking you, pulling you back to kiss your neck. He pictured your hips bouncing back to meet his thrusts, your moans the only thing he ever wanted to hear again.
As he felt himself about to cum, he wondered what you looked like when you came. He saw you in his mind, breathless and lost, your orgasm completely possessing your body and soul. As he pictured you cumming, he felt himself stutter, his thrusts into his hand uneven and rushed. He imagined your cunt squeezing his dick tightly as he came, his cum covering his hand and landing on his shirt. He panted as he tried to catch his breath, his ears filled with his heartbeat, his head filled with nothing but you.
After he cleaned himself off, he changed into sweats and a hoodie, needing a distraction to keep him from making his fantasy come true. He worked for hours, completely unaware of the time as the hours passed by. The drive you had given him was a dream for any lawyer; names, dates, every transaction on a credit card, any ticket, everything right at the tips of his fingers.
When he heard you cry out, he ran to the bedroom and threw open the door. You were still asleep, but you were crying and whimpering. He grabbed your arms and shook you, trying to wake you, but nothing worked. You screamed when you finally opened your eyes, trying to free yourself from Andy with your arms and legs.
When you had finally calmed and started to sleep, he tucked you in, dropping a kiss on your forehead before turning to walk away. Andy heard you stir and saw the look on your face, causing him to make his way back to the bed. He wanted to make sure you felt safe and comfortable, so he stayed on top of the covers.
He slipped his arm around you, pulling your body back against his, you fitting as if you were always meant his embrace. He felt you drift off again, following you into slumber not long after. Andy didn’t normally sleep, usually only three to four hours a night, but with you warm and safe in his embrace, he drifted off into the best sleep he could ever remember having. He would do everything in his power to make sure this is right where you stayed.
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You woke up warm and comfortable, having slept better than you could remember. You stretched and rolled over, snuggling into the chest, startling when you realized you weren’t alone. You looked up, Andy sleeping peacefully, his arm around you. You reached out, caressing his cheek, the soft motion happening before you even realized what you were doing.
Andy stirred, clearing his throat as he brought you in closer, resting his chin on the top of your head. You let the warmth pull you under again, and for the first time, you felt completely safe and protected. You didn’t know what it was about Andy that inspired such confidence in you, but he did, and you would enjoy every minute while you could.
You woke a little later to Andy rubbing his hand up and down your arm, slowly bringing you back to reality. You stirred, stretching out your body as you felt Andy chuckle, the rumble low and deep from his chest. You looked up at him questioningly, offended you were being laughed at.
“I’m not laughing at you, put the pout away,” he said, smiling down at you. “You stretch like a cat, full body and long.” You slapped him on his chest and sat up, only just now realizing you were still dressed in your robe, which was hanging precariously open . You asked what time it was, moving out of Andy’s embrace to go use the bathroom and start your day.
Andy informed you it was a little past ten in the morning, which shocked you. You never slept past six maybe seven at the latest. Andy said he’d go get some food started to let you have some time to get ready.
As you entered the living room, your mouth watered at the smell of whatever Andy had made. Your stomach gurgled loudly, causing Andy to chuckle as he sat a plate in front of you. You took a bite, closing your eyes in pure delight as the flavors hit your tongue. You and Andy ate in quiet yet comfortable silence, you grabbing the plates once you were both done eating. Andy fought you until you compromised and allowed him to help you clean up.
As Andy sat down to do some work, you reached out to Jake to check in, needing to hear his voice and know he was safe. Jake informed you Steve had returned home early and was anxious to find out what you had been up to. Jake managed to stave him off for a while saying you were with your mother for testing that would keep you occupied for a few hours. You thanked him, promising him you were safe and would reach out to Steve soon.
Andy continued working, asking you questions over everyone in the files, and what you knew about them. You stopped about an hour later and texted Jake you were going to call Steve. Jake set the heart monitor noise in the background as you used your personal cell phone which Jake kept located at the hospital.
You gave Steve an update, making sure to keep the noise consistent as Jake helped keep the call authentic. When you disconnected, you sighed and rolled your neck and shoulders, tension immediately setting in when you talked to Steve.
Andy closed his laptop and asked what you felt like for dinner, anything you wanted. You told him your favorite food, and of course Andy knew exactly where to order it from, shocking you when he chose your favorite restaurant. You quirked an eyebrow and looked over to see Andy shrug. You had told him your favorite place during your story, and Andy made sure to remember.
You felt yourself loosen up, your mood instantly boosted at the fact that you were heard, a feeling that hadn’t happened in a very long time. While you waited for the food to arrive, Andy poured you a glass of wine, your choice being a sweet moscato while he sipped on the same.
When the food arrived, you and Andy ate, him regaling you with tales of his most humorous and memorable cases. You couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed so hard, Andy pouring more wine for you both as the night continued. You both decided to throw on a show you’d been wanting to watch forever, but you didn’t even make it through the first thirty minutes before your breath evened out as you fell asleep on his lap.
Andy looked down and made sure to cover you with the blanket across your lap as he went back to work, quietly so as not to wake you up. Whenever you moved, he stilled until you settled, keeping you covered up. His hand eventually found its way into your hair, gently playing with the loose pieces as he continued working through more files.
Andy drifted to sleep a few hours later, his head resting on the back of the couch. You woke up, waking Andy up to head to bed. Andy followed you down the hall, and as you stood outside the door, you looked at him, asking him to stay again. Andy silently followed you in, getting under the covers this time before pulling you into him again.
This became the routine for you two, sleep, eat work, spending time together, then sleep. This was your comfort zone, where you wanted to be. You weren’t sure you would ever feel safe or comfortable after Steve, but you wouldn’t shut the door to this chance if it happened.
On the last day with Andy, the end of the week you had agreed to in the beginning, you found yourself sad, disappointed that this was coming to an end, the day moving way too quickly for your taste. Andy slammed the laptop shut, leaned back and took a deep breath. This was ending way too fast for him also. You looked up to see Andy glancing down at you, your head laid across his lap as he played with your hair, your breath catching at the look on his face, a look you hadn’t seen in a long time.
Andy reached out, running his thumb over the apple of your cheek, causing you to lean into the soft and sweet touch. You leaned forward, your lips ghosting over Andy’s, your breath soft and timid. Andy leaned in, deepening the kiss as you lost yourself in his touch. As you moved to straddle his lap, Andy stopped you, his breaths short as he looked at you.
You immediately pulled away, embarrassed and ashamed at his denial. As you stood to leave, tears falling freely, you felt Andy grab you. He pulled you into his embrace, whispering that as much as he wanted this, he didn’t want to go too fast. He didn’t want to lose you, now that he’d just finally found you.
He grasped your chin, making you meet his eyes, wanting you to believe his every word. Andy meant it, he wanted to take his time with you, explore you, he wanted to love you in a way you had never been loved, but he needed to make sure you felt the same while he also needed to keep you alive.
“It isn’t that I don’t want to,” he said softly, his thumbs wiping the tears away as they fell. “I need to be able to keep you safe, to keep you alive, and I cannot do that until Steve is gone. I also need to know this is real, that your feelings are for me and aren’t just grieving a loss or fill a need. This is real for me, so real. I have never felt this way about anyone in my life.” Andy searched your face, trying to find the answers to the questions he so desperately needed.
You reached out and ran your hand along his jawline as you stood up to kiss him, every answer left behind on his lips. He kissed you again, pulling himself away leaving both of you breathless. You entered the bedroom, immediately finding home in his embrace, trying to memorize every touch, every breath before you were pulled apart.
Andy held you, both of you kissing, afraid to drift to sleep. Eventually, you both fell off into a dreamless sleep, morning coming way too fast for either of you. You packed everything up, Andy giving him men orders. After the car was packed, you and Andy stood silent as you drank each other in one last time.
“I am the only one besides my men who will know where you are.” Andy pushed stray strands of hair behind your ear as he continued. “Jake has been secured complete immunity on the condition he becomes a top tech professional for the US government, all branches. He will be set for life and will be able to contact you whenever he pleases.”
You nodded, trying to prolong this moment, still not ready to say goodbye. Andy moved to the side, opening the door to the SUV you were to leave in. Jake stepped out, his large and goofy smile on his face as he grabbed you in a tight embrace, lifting you off the ground. You cried tears of relief knowing your best friend, well actually family, was still alive.
He handed you a phone, going over all of the features as this was the last piece of technology he would be able to make for you. This phone was encrypted with only himself and Andy able to call or text. You could make calls and text of course, however Jake had made this phone completely untraceable with a new phone number spoofed every time you used it. Jake was excited to begin this new chapter, but completely scared of what time would bring. You assured him this was not the end, that Andy had made sure you’d always be able to reach him, even see him anytime you wished. As Jake said goodbye, he quietly whispered about how much he liked Andy. He approved, and that meant more to you than anything else. You watched another vehicle pull in, and squeezed Jake one last time.
As Jake was swept off to begin his new life, you turned to Andy, almost immediately seeking out his comfort. Andy helped you into the back of the vehicle, making sure you were buckled in and secure before placing a kiss on your lips, urgent and filled with sadness at having to let you go. You promised this wasn’t forever, Andy promised he would come back for you as soon as Steve was gone. Andy watched you leave, turning to head inside and start the war.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
The cottage was so small and secure, Andy’s men splitting time between guarding you and also living next door. Andy made sure to call you every day, and every day, you received something from him. A book you’d wanted to read, your favorite fruit, anything that you mentioned, Andy made sure was yours.
It had been two months of non-stop contact, Andy reassuring you he was safe. He spared you the details of the raid, only letting you know that Steve was gone. The next day, you were awakened by gentle purrs and head bumps, opening your eyes to see your favorite cat.
It would be another few weeks before you were updated again, Andy unable to text and call daily the further the trial progressed. You’d kept tabs on the news, able to watch Steve’s empire fall. You felt a sense of relief pour through you once you’d read the headline detailing Steve Rogers fall from grace, his empire blown up from the inside out.
High ranking politicians, police, business men, other mafia contacts all brought down and eliminated by one Andrew Barber. You watched the trial end, Steve found guilty on all counts. Steve would never be free again, nor would he see the light of day, his sentence relocated to a very secure underground prison meant for the most dangerous men.
You waited for Andy, ready to finally be with this man who’d allowed you to live once again. With all of Steve’s people gone, it was safe for you to come back. You looked at your phone, waiting for a call, a text, anything to let you know Andy was coming back, but it never came. Another week passed with nothing from Andy. You called Jake to catch up with him, so proud of him. He was the most important and sought after commodity to national security, and you couldn’t be happier for him.
You were about to give up on Andy, resigning yourself to the fact you had once again trusted the wrong man. You snuggled with your cat, finally allowing your tears to fall. You fell asleep snuggled up, his purrs lulling your anxiety.
You were awakened a short while later, a hand on your cheek while gentle kisses were peppered down the side of your face. You opened your eyes, immediately seeing the one person you wanted more than anyone.
“Andy,” you breathed, immediately falling into his embrace. He kissed you, needy and rushed, wanting nothing more than to be here with you in this moment. He pulled away, his forehead resting on yours as he panted.
“Hi. I came as soon as I could,” he said, twining his fingers with yours. You leaned into him, kissing him again, holding him so close. You looked around, making sure the two of you were alone. He assured you the men were away in their place, that the two of you were finally and completely alone.
Andy gently laid you back, removing his shirt before climbing up to meet your lips. You sighed as he started to kiss your neck, softly nibbling, licking, kissing as he made his way down. He stopped at your collarbones, his hands sliding up your sides as you moved to remove your tank top, offering him access to the breasts he’d dreamed about since the first moment he saw you.
He nipped your nipple, taking it in his mouth as he bit and worked it over, removing his mouth to allow the cold air to hit as he worked over your other nipple, alternating between the two before moving his kisses down your stomach, his hands grabbing your shorts, pulling them down as he went.
You leaned back as he kissed up from your ankle to the knee, ending at the top of your thigh as he moved to the other leg, making his way down from your thigh to your ankle, chuckling when you huffed in frustration, so close yet still no relief. Andy made his way back up, your hands finding his hair as he finally reached where you wanted him most.
He inhaled your scent, losing all control as he dove in, his tongue licking up and down your wet slit, your moans sweeter than he ever imagined. He moved to your clit, sucking the small bundle between his teeth as he slid two fingers into you. Andy almost came right there, your pussy more sweet and soft than he had dreamed.
He worked his fingers in and out, sucking relentlessly as he felt your cunt tighten and squeeze, knowing you were close. He rubbed his clothed cock on the bed, seeking any type of relief while he made you scream, your cries overtaking every sense. He continued suckling, over and over, your juices running down his hand as he made you cum again and again, not letting up until you pushed his head away.
He kissed his way up, stopping at your breasts again, almost making you cum again from the sensitivity as he landed at your mouth. You kissed him deeply, your taste spurring you on more and more. You flipped him over, straddling his lap, his hard cock rubbing over your already oversensitive pussy.
Andy lifted his hips, allowing you to pull his pants down, grabbing his cock, dragging the tip up and down your wet slit, causing Andy to thrust up. You positioned him at your entrance, slowly sinking down inch by inch, his cock filling you to the brim.
You started to rotate your hips, keeping his dick nestled deeply inside, the motion making him still, allowing you to take what you needed from him. This was all about you, what made you happy, what made you feel good, marveling at how beautiful you looked in this light, fucked out yet still fucking.
You leaned down, your hair covering his face as he grabbed it and pulled you closer, kissing you slowly and deeply, following your rhythm. You rode him slow, barely lifting off his cock, taking him so deep you felt him in every part of your pussy, warm and slow.
As you continued fucking him, you sped up, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you balanced your hands on his chest. You bounced harder, your hips swiveling, feeling your orgasm building higher and higher. You continued your pace, chasing your end as you felt Andy thrust up, meeting you.
You let go, your cunt gripping him tightly as you cried out, his name the only word you seemed to know. You felt him still, his hot cum shooting into you, as he kept himself buried deep, not wanting to ever leave the shelter of your pussy.
You laid down across him, panting as your heart started to return to normal, your breaths short and shallow. Andy rubbed his hand up and down your back, his hot breath in your ear. He kissed you over and over, letting you know that this is what he had wanted for you. He wanted you to feel safe with him, knowing he would never do what Steve had.
You fell into a deep sleep, his now softening cock still sheathed fully as he continued to comfort you, making sure you were resting and comfortable. This moment was more than he had ever felt he deserved, and you would never be alone again.
His phone lit up, silenced to make sure you weren’t disturbed. He opened his texts, one message popping open from an unknown number. “It’s done, everyone is asleep.” Andy sent a message acknowledging he’d received it, closing his phone, placing it to the side nightstand. You moved, moaning from the action, Andy keeping completely still.
Andy was a man of few words, but many secrets; he would tell you one day, but for now, this Andy would be all you knew, the prosecutor so in love with you, he would end the world. Andy thought back to his conversation with his most trusted man, Curtis. Curtis had been with Andy from the beginning, helping him build an empire so secret, no one knew who the actual leaders were.
Andy sat silently as he processed the news Curtis had sent. Steve was gone, never to be seen nor heard from again, along with all of his men, leaving Andy in charge, Andy who now had a direct line to Jake.
Every last person in those files had been handled, allowing Andy to silently seize control. As he looked down at you again, he felt so warm and loved. Andy wasn’t sure of much, but he was very sure of one thing: No one else would get to hurt you again, you were his.
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myfictionaldreams · 4 months
Text
~ Mafia!Stucky Mastlist⍟✪ 📚~
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Hello lovely, I hope you’re having a great day. I thought it was about time I made a list dedicated to my favourite boys, so welcome to my Mafia!Stucky masterlit!I love to write in my spare time, and the fiction I create is for 18+ readers ONLY. Also, everything is character x fem!reader, and please, read the tags carefully before continuing.
Masterlists ♥ A03 ♥ Tags  ♥ Question? ♥ latest works ♥
you're mine (smut, angst, dark)
Steve loves showing off what’s his, you. What does eh do when he sees someone staring at what is his?
i need more (fluff, smut)
You’d been off all day and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Steve. He’d do anything to make you feel better so when you started begging him to help you have some release, he didn’t hold back.
ruined orgasm - kinktober (smut)
He had given you one rule: do not interrupt the meeting. So, of course you had to walk straight into the meeting that had all of America’s most noterious gangsters
steve's birthday wish (P.1) (fluff, smut, angst)
It was approaching Steve’s birthday and you had no idea what to get him. Bucky suggests just asking the Mafia boss what he would like, but would you regret your decision when you hear what Steve truly wants.
When Two Become Three (P.2) (fluff, smut)
It has been a few weeks since Steve sat back and watched your be pleasured by his best friend Bucky, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially, the part where Steve confessed his fantasy to have a threesome, but would you ever agree to it?
one more meeting (fluff, smut, angst, dark)
For all of the years that you had known Steve and Bucky, you had never seen them lose control of their anger. All of the murder and violence always being calculated, calm, and dangerous. But today, that all changed and for the first time in years, you were truly scared of the boys you loved.
repeat after me(fluff, smut, angst)
It wasn’t often that you had to attend a party with your boyfriends but today, you found yourself at one, filling you with anxiety and dread. How will the boys react when they find you close to a panic attack and starting to doubt their love for you?
how many?(fluff, smut)
Steve had finally found time to take you and Bucky on holiday. What he doesn’t tell you however is that today, he wanted to see just how many times he and Bucky could get you to orgasm.
i can’t lose you (fluff, smut, angst, dark)
Being the girlfriend of the Mafia leader and his second in command had its dangers but for years, you'd never had to experience this. Until now. How will the boys react when you're put in danger?
no touching (fluff, smut, angst)
You blatantly ignored their instructions and now you had to suffer the repercussions for your actions.
i don’t care (fluff, smut)  
'The reader having a menstrual cycle, this one just a little worse than others, and Steve and Bucky worrying and helping her through it.'
the one weakness (fluff, smut, angst) 
It wasn't often you were by yourself so when you quickly go to the coffee shop, what happens when the enemy is watching and waiting nearby.
overwhelming (fluff)
It had been your birthday a few days ago and both Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party followed by intense, long nighttime activities. However as you lay in bed on Monday morning, something just didn't feel quite right.
the fun game  (fluff, smut)
Steve and Bucky had forgotten about your date, leaving you waiting for two hours in the restaurant. How will they react when you decide to play your own little game as payback and, how far can you go before they finally snap?
harder, please  (fluff, smut, angst)
Your mind was clouded with lust and pleasure, as you begged repeatedly for more from Bucky but, what happens when you get hurt in the process?
protect and forget  (fluff, smut, angst) 
Life as the girlfriend of the Mafia boss and his second-in-command was not always smooth sailing, everything did not always go to plan. Two weeks before your birthday, a threat was made to your life. What happens when Steve and Bucky begin to push you away as they search for the threat?
All Eyes On You  (smut)  
“Do you know what we would have done if we had turned up to that restaurant and seen you all dolled up like that? We would have bent you over the table in front of everyone and shown them exactly who you belonged to". - Steve Rogers
you belong to me  (fluff, smut, angst)
These girls knew you were dating Steve and Bucky, so why is it that they thought it was ok to have their hands all over them?
dont fall asleep  (fluff, smut, angst)
It was supposed to be a normal day, but not in fate's eyes as you and Sam are hit by a drunk driver. How will Steve and Bucky react when they hear their girls been hurt?
rule number one.  (fluff, smut, angst)
It was Bucky's birthday but even a surprise party won't stop Steve and Bucky from punishing you for not looking after yourself.
Last Hope (CH. 1) (CH. 2)  (fluff, smut, angst, dark)
Before dating Steve and Bucky, your life felt like a steel cage that you couldn't escape from because of your family business. There was no happiness or hope but, what happens when the infamously heartless mafia leader, Steve Rogers, finds you alone?
our little bean  (fluff, angst)    
You stared unblinking at the Doctor who had just told you the news you couldn't quite comprehend. You were on birth control, so why is the test in his hands saying that you're pregnant?  Accidents happened but is this a happy one? (Yes it is).
the limit  (fluff, smut, angst)
Everyone has a limit, this includes Steve and Bucky. What happens in different situations where each of you felt compelled to use your safewords?
sick day (fluff)
Bucky had warned you that dancing in that rain without a coat would lead you to be ill, maybe you should have listened more to his warning.
accident’s happen (fluff, smut, angst) 
You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?
everyone is breakable  (fluff, smut, angst)
Steve and Bucky were invincible in your eyes. They'd never been injured or in a situation where you thought they weren't the ones in control. That is until one day Bucky doesn't return from meeting with a client.
winter soup  (fluff, smut, angst)
There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?
something new   (smut)
The mafia leader was known to be possessive and enjoy showing off his girl but what happens when he wants to do this by being intimate in front of his gang?
pegging - kinktober  (smut)
Steve had once instructed bucky how to pleasure you but what happens when you’re the one being given the instructions?
cockwarming - kinktober (smut)
You’re feeling needy and restless so Steve offers you something to suck on, much to Bucky’s amusement.
double penetration in one hole - kinktober  (smut)
You were adament to prove Steve wrong and do something you’ve never done before.
fear play - kinktober (smut, dark)
You woke up to darkness, your phone was missing and, all you could was silence echoing around the house but, you knew you weren’t alone.
role reversal - kinktober  (smut)
For once, you were the one shouting at the enemy, demanding that they leave your office. Steve and Bucky were in awe so you tried to keep up this confidence and burn off some energy with them.
Duke, Duchess and Knights  (fluff, angst)
You get so lost in the fantasy dream that when it turns into a nightmare, you're not sure what reality is when you wake up screaming.
Merry Christmas (fluff, smut)
It was a simple question: Have you been naughty or nice this year?
Safety Measures (Angst, Smut, Fluff)
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.
Drabbles
The first to give their jacket when reader is cold
Mad & Sad moments
Saying the wrong thing
TikTok trend: no kissing
Who is more protective?
safe space in your new home
Halloween Costumes
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biteofcherry · 1 year
Note
Hi!!! I ADORE the Nesting universe. Can we please have more drabbles? Does Reader come around to Steve's attentions? What's her favorite thing that Steve does as far as spoiling her? Does she do things for Steve too (and what does he like best)? Does she meet the rest of the family and how does she get along with everyone?
It's difficult for the Reader to decide on her opinion of this whole relationship. Aside from being a ruthless mob boss - a side of Steve that really scares her - Steve's very caring and patient with her. Yes, he is overprotective, but he somehow finds reasonable middle ground to meet her needs and desires too (lbh, he does it in a way that gets him what he wants, but is so subtle the Reader thinks her own demands were met). She can't fully accuse him of hiding her from the world, or forbidding her to do things. Which makes being angry with him difficult.
And Steve does a lot of wonderful things, which would make her fall head over heels if only he wasn't a lethal criminal. She especially likes when he brings her fave sweet treats without occasion, or buys romance novels she likes to indulge in (he sometimes reads them to her in bed, aloud, and then snort that he can do it better... and shows her exactly how).
Most of all, she goes weak for how invested in the pregnancy and starting a family he is. Yeah, he's cocky and arrogant about knocking her up, but he's also actively participating in preparations. The fact he's very calm and supportive when Reader has a few meltdowns and scares regarding giving birth, makes her rely on him more and more. Even if sometimes it terrifies her when he speaks of keeping her full of him time after time.
She meets everyone who is important to Steve - which is a small circle of family and close friends. His mother adores her, though they had one tense discussion about how dangerous Steve is.
However, Steve kind of regrets appointing Yelena and Natasha as Reader's security. They're extremely efficient, but also like to indulge in some of whims he rather doesn't approve of. Like the time he had late meetings and got home only to find out his pregnant wife and her bodyguards were partying at a club...
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~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Natasha slides next to him before he even notices. She can move like a shadow and it's one of the reasons he chose her to protect you.
"Safe and sound, only releasing some tension." Romanoff chuckles, pointing at where you and Yelena twirl on the dance floor.
You had zero alcohol in your blood, only the fizzy cherry coke, but you feel a little drunk.
On endorphins.
Your face glows, eyes closed in bliss as you dance. The cobalt blue dress you wear is loose - more comfortable for your slightly rounded belly - but it's so short that more energetic twirls almost expose your ass.
A muscle in Steve's jaw twitches as he stares at you.
You're the hottest sight, but you're also showing off something that is his.
You are full of him and some people here still crave after you, as if they could ever scrape the mark of his ownership off you.
Your moves remind him of the night you met. His eyes set on you that evening and he couldn't look away. Perhaps you weren't the greatest dancer in the world, but the way you moved and how you tilted your head made him think of how you'd look when he fucked you.
You dance like that now, too.
As if you're begging to be fucked.
So maybe it's you who still doesn't fully accept the fact you belong to someone.
Steve undoes a button on his jacket, white beater beneath glowing bright under the strobe lights. He slowly strides towards you, people parting in his wake; a predator zeroed in on a clueless prey.
He gives a nod and Yelena smoothly dances away before you even notice.
Then he presses himself behind you, wrapping an arm around your middle, his hand splayed on your belly.
You jump at the first brush of a big, sturdy body against yours. But the possessive move of his hand and the scent of him (so familiar by now) makes you freeze.
"If you needed to release some tension," Steve murmurs into your ear, "I know better ways to do it."
You gasp out his name and try to turn around, but his hold on you tightens.
He starts moving, and forces you to move along with him, rocking your hips into his as the beat of the music turns more sensual.
His low voice in your ear makes you shiver. Your breath hitches when his other hand slides up your bare thigh and beneath your dress.
"If you wanted to dance," Steve's tone turns darker in the unmistakable sign of sealing your tormented fate.
"-you can give me a show."
Suddenly, he turns you around, so you're facing him. Both of his hands are locked on your hips, the fabric of your dress bunched up indecently.
"I'm taking you home." Steve declares. "You'll dance for me, little wife."
"And you won't get to release your tension until I'm satisfied with your performance."
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binkszamsstuff · 11 months
Text
Red
Very dark Steve! Mob Steve! Non con! Reader and Steve have a child. Angst!! Lots of grammar and spelling mistakes I’ll edit in the morning or never who knows🤷🏻‍♀️❤️
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Red. the pain, the hurt, the passion, the love, everything was red. He was toxic, he was the obsessive. And you were his feen, his drug, his obsession , his love. But the days blurred, the lines no longer were standing, they had fallen. The fights, the late nights, the guessing and questions that went unanswered by him. It was a house on fire, it was red.
There was no time in the day to plan, with his anger, and yours. It was spontaneous, the fight had started because of steves affairs. The lying, the cheating, he ruined you, tore down all walls, made you just as obsessed with him as he was with you. Just to leave you in the dust, to cheat. To add gasoline to the fire that was you, or what was left of you anyhow.
Peggy was a glossy, classy woman with the perfect bubble of power and wittiness. She was everything you weren’t. You were messy, hazed with trouble, a woman gone mad by a man who drove her there. You were his frankenstein, you were old pieces of yourself glued back together again. The young, innocent, naive, funny, charming, and free girl was now chained to the scars he left.
You ran out of the house in the early morning, he came home late yet again. You had stayed up waiting for him, going to confront him in his act. Thats exactly what you did, but the end was not what you pictured. You hopped that he would hold you, say you were wrong, make love to you like in the beginning.
“Are you cheating on me?’ you asked quietly, you sat on the bed. You couldnt took at him.
“I dont want to have this conversation with you, it’ll only hurt you” steve spoke. That was all the answers you needed. You started to yell, scream, through insult after insult.
“I knew it! You’re scerwing peggy! Huh you’re fucking your secretary!” you yelled in his face crying. He rolled his eyes at you and shoved you to the side going to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
“Im tried of this steve” you sobbed walking to the closet grabbing any bag in sight packing up everything.
Once steve heard you say that so defeated he knew that you were serious about leaving him. You and him had lots a fights because of his actions but everytime he kissed it better. He drew back in promising his love and that it will never happen again. But it always does. Steve now had his suite jacket off, his selves rolled up, strands of his hair in hs face,
“You’re not leaving me” he stated
“Watch me” you said back in anger, masking the sadness.
“y/n i own you, you’re mine! You cant leave me baby” he said getting angry.
“You cheated steve! Again. I-i cant do this i cant sit here and wait for you to love me again. We are not the people we were when we first started dating. I cant and wont be the drunk housewife waiting for her husband whose never gonna come back because his mistress.” you were out of breath from crying and talking so fast while packing.
Steve stepped closer “baby come on its me! Its us! We always get through stuff like this!” he tried to manipulate you with his soft words but this time it wouldn’t work. the naive girl you used died, not even a ghost left of her
“We wouldnt have to “get through this stuff” if you didnt cheat and fuck other women.” you held up air qoutes while talking.
“I love you” steve pulled you in near, kissing the top of your head. You sobbed in his chest, hurt, angry, betrayed. The three year relationship was now smoke, the fire was all burnt out. The engagement ring heavy on your finger, it was a line of whispered lies and i love yous.
Steve drew you to the bed, kissing his way up your neck. His hands sliding down your frame gripping your hips. His false hope whispered in your ear and apologies that didnt have any meaning stuck to you, like a cigarette burn. He took off your clothes and gently laid you on the bed. ‘When was the last time he was gentle with me?’ you thought to yourself as he kissed and licked at you lower lips.
“Say something baby, tell me you wont leave me, that you love me” he begged like he was the victim. You stayed silent, numb.
“prettybaby i love you. Say it back! I need you! I cant live with out you!” both of you now naked on the bed. he pushed himself into your entrance, all you could do was cry.
Steve begged and whined for you back but little did he know the car was running outside waiting to escape him and this burning house.
Steve fell asleep hugging you, his head resting on your tummy his arm wrapped around you. You ran your fingers through his hair, soaking up what was left of the man you used to know, he was burned alive, gone. You slowly pushed him off of you and got dressed, grabbing the bags on clothes and bathroom care you walked out. You looked around the house as you left, the nicknacs and photos of you and steve. The nursery that sat empty. Steve promised children but then came peggy. You kissed your engagement ring and then placed it on the entry table by steves keys.
Getting in the car and speeding off in to what was left of the mess steve made of you.
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One year later-
A wail of a new born was calling out to you in the dead of the night. You never got frustrated being a single mother, reminding yourself when you caught yourself being negative that you could still be with steve. Penny was three months old and her blonde curly hair was sticking in every which way. It made you giggle.
“Hi! Mommys here its okay penny girl” you picked her up rocked her in your arms.
She might be steve daughter but you never let her know what pain she was created from, you would never let her end up like steve nor you.
“Mama loves you” you said as she closed her big eyes again just needing comfort from her mom to make her feel better. Steve didnt know that the night that the two of you had sex before you left was the cause of a beautiful little girl. He had tried to call, and text you put after smaing you phone and leaving to state of New York for Washington you knew he wouldnt find you.
You lived in a little white house with a garden in a small town tucked away from the crazy and hurt.
You sat in the rocking chair in pennys room rocking her, your tiredness was catching up to you. Just as your eyes started to close he spoke from the depths of the darkness that was the closet.
“Oh prettybaby you are such a good little mommy, just like i knew you would be” he walked closer.
You screamed. Getting up with penny in your arms backing away from him trying stumble to the door backwards,
“Get out. Steve get out! I-i cant-” you sobbed your hold on penny grew tighter.
“Baby its okay, i wont hurt you. y/n im so proud of you, look at the life you built for our little girl, now i am mad you didnt tell me you were pregnant. But baby she is gorgeous. Now i need you to decide either you come home or we can live out here. Ya know i kinda love it here. Good thinking babe this is great place to rise kids”
You sobbed harder.
“How did you find us” you asked crying, so scared.
“Oh baby dont be naive, i will always find you”
“You cant be in our life, your toxic and i wont rase my daughter in the life we used to have. She wont end up like us! You cant be here! You ruined me!’ you sobbed and hyperventilated. He slowly walked closer like approaching an injured animal
“Baby i know i know, i was wrong and mean and cruel to you. I was blind i thought you would always be there for me. I took you for granted. Shes gone y/n, i got rid of peggy, shes taking a long nap and i aint ever gonna hurt you like that again. I need you baby…..and i need to be in my daughters life. I cant live without you nor am i gonna be able to leave her all alone now too” he explained
“I wanna have a good life, nothing like the one we used to have. You scare me steve and you’ve hurt me” you said looking at little penny who had a frown on hef face, she could read the distress from her mother.
“y/n look at me!” steve grabbed your face in his hands and made you look at him. “I will make it up to you i promise. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you baby. I cant live without you” you shock your head no
“Its okay i get it y/n we need time, but im not going anywhere” steve spoke again.
“Come on lets put penny girl back in ger crib and go to bed” steve guided you to the crib and put penny down. She was right back to being cozy and sleepy. Steve pulled you in a hug while you sobbed into his chest, he was sliding his hand over your hair while shushing you.
“Come one lets go to sleep.” steve took your hand in his and leaded you back to your room. You laid down still crying, steve undressed himself down to his boxers and then joined you. He spooned you.
“I’ve missed you so much baby” was the last thing you heard before falling into slumber because you had cried yourself to sleep in his arms.
The house was burnt but in its ashes something new rose.
Authors note; i know some people will not understand why she didnt fight more, and the reason why was because she was in shock. It been and year and he shows up and shes like oh crap he found me and our now daughter. She is really scared of him and numb. Also steve is a mob boss by the way.
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natashadied4oursins · 10 months
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Nice Like That (Steve x Reader)
Pairing: Soft Mafia!Steve x Female Reader/OC
Summary: Steve’s musings about a life-changing decision he’s made for his lady.
Author’s Notes: Third person POV. Reader not in scene. It’s just Steve alone in his office thinking/reminiscing.
Warnings: swearing, controlling Steve, protective Steve, possessive Steve, stalking, premarital sex (oh no!)
Word count: 1580
Nice Like That
Steve leaned back in his office chair with a satisfied smirk, his feet propped on his desk. Anyone seeing his face would think he’d just made some shrewd, calculated business move on the chessboard that was the New York City mafia world when inside he was as giddy as a motherfucking school boy. He’d decided the woman he’d been seeing for the last couple of weeks would move in with him that afternoon. He ordered Sam to pack up her stuff from her dingy apartment and take care of any financial penalties that might accrue with her landlord and roommates. He was nice like that.
The impact that woman had on him was so unexpected when he saw her dancing with her girlfriends at one of his clubs. She was more than just pretty; she was sexy even in a green sundress similar to the dresses he’d sworn he’d seen the ladies at church wear. She stood out—not because she wore such a modest dress, but because of the way said dress hugged her tits, hips, and the top of her ass; her curves just refused to be hidden away.
She didn’t seem like a regular club-goer, but she sure was having fun with her girls. She was laughing, waving her arms in the air, and swaying her hips. She wasn’t much of a dancer, but he loved watching her just the same. She jumped giggling when he lightly touched her hips from behind. She turned meeting his eyes, and she became quiet, her lips giving a hint of a smile.
It took him a bit longer than it should’ve to stop staring and lower his lips next to her ear to ask her to dance. Now, Steve Rogers does not ask girls to dance. No. He just grabs their hips and dances with them and they are usually all for it. No big deal. This girl was way too classy for that…in her twenty-dollar-Target-looking dress.
It was funny. She tried to appear so cool and confident--even though she gulped when his breath was on her skin when he asked her to dance--and she answered his question with a nonchalant shrug and a cute little smirk. Her breath hitched when he pulled her body close to his. He respected the effort. He was used to people trying to look tough around him. He liked catching her off guard. He liked feeling her shudder under his touch.
He made out with her in the VIP section while her friends ordered whatever they wanted a few feet away. He convinced her to go home with him before he got too riled up and had to have her sit on his dick right there and then. He’d told himself she’d just be a quick lay, but deep down he knew it was bullshit. Instead, he ended up spending the entire weekend in bed with her at his estate.
Steve had talked her into calling in sick that weekend, but he couldn’t convince her to quit her job so he’d be able to see her more. He’d promised to pay her bills for a whole fricking year, but she said she didn’t need a sugar daddy. He made sure to get Little Miss Independent’s number before dropping her off at her place. He didn’t last five fucking minutes before calling her about having dinner with him at one of his restaurants the following night. He had Bucky rearrange his schedule—it must’ve been a pain in the ass and he was sure he pissed off a few people, but Steve had to see her again.
He sent a nice blue, flowy chiffon dress to her apartment ahead of time for her to wear to the restaurant. He didn’t care what she wore, but he didn’t want her to feel out of place. He just knew what pricks rich people could be--even though none would dare openly insult any lady on Steve Rogers’ arm, especially in his own restaurant.
She actually thanked him for the dress because she didn’t have anything to wear to such a fancy place. He was relieved she didn’t feel insulted, and now he knew there were some gifts she’d accept from him. She was stunning and even turned a few heads making Steve both proud and irritated anyone would look at his lady. That’s right—his lady.
He had her talk about herself during dinner; he wanted to know everything about her. (They hadn’t done a lot of talking during their weekend together.) He’d also had Sam do a thorough background check on her, but the file was still in his office unread. It somehow felt wrong to read it just before their date—like it’d be invading her privacy or something. He’d also had Bucky follow her around to gather more information about her daily life and routine…and to make sure no one touched what was his.
When Steve asked her to dance, she reluctantly agreed warning him she wasn’t a good dancer. He knew; he didn’t care. “You looked pretty good dancing at my club last Friday,” he couldn’t help but tease. She actually blushed. He’d seen her naked for an entire weekend, but she was anxious about where to put her feet while she was covered up in some classy, flowy dress that highlighted all her curves? It was adorable.
Steve just wanted to hold her again, so dancing seemed like the logical solution. He didn’t want her to think he just wanted sex from her. He wanted her. He knew he was falling hard for her like some pathetic schmuck, but he just couldn’t bring himself to give a fuck.
He wanted all of her. It was cheesy, but he wanted to keep her deepest secrets, banish her insecurities and fears; he wanted her to tell him her hopes and dreams so he could make them come to life. He wanted everything. He wanted to give her everything.
She’d flinched when he put his hand on her hip. He smiled remembering how rough they’d been with each other that last weekend. She was probably still sore other places too. He had his own reminders--she actually drew blood during the many times her nails dug along his back during their time together.
With what she told him, and the information Sam and Bucky gathered, Steve learned that she lived with roommates she found online and worked as a waitress at one of those 24-hour diners. (He did not like the thought of her working overnight--vulnerable to shady customers). She’d been a foster kid who’d struggled a lot in school. He’d known foster kids growing up in his neighborhood, and Sam, a former counselor, confirmed it was common for foster kids to have their education “disrupted.” The fact that she was putting herself through college in her late twenties impressed Steve. She was tough and resilient, and he was so proud of her.
Steve also learned she volunteered with current foster kids, and she occasionally worked at a homeless soup kitchen. He couldn’t believe how fucking pure she was! She was definitely too good for him. He almost felt guilty for dragging her into his world. Almost. As much as he admired and respected her, he was a selfish bastard and there was no way he was going to let her go. She belonged to him now.
The thought of not coming home to her every night after a long day of making deals, busting skulls, reining in hotheads and bribing politicians then waking up next to her and making love to her every morning and do the whole thing over again solidified his decision. There was no way he was going to deprive himself of her sweet comfort.
He’d have to limit her excursions and have a bodyguard with her at all times—maybe Romanoff or Belova or both--he had to protect his girl. He was happy to let her continue some of her volunteering on top of letting her finish school since both were so important to her. That way she’d have a life outside their home—he was nice like that.
Steve would have to be patient and understanding with her. She’d be in shock from the sudden move to his house and his world. Yes, her movements would be limited because of how dangerous his world was, but she’d also want for nothing—all she’d have to do is snap her pretty little fingers and he’d fetch whatever she wanted like a goddamn golden retriever.
He’d give her her dream wedding even if it took months to plan—if it was up to him, they’d get married at the court house that very day. He was even willing to wait until she finished her degree before getting her pregnant. (She'd be such a good mother!) He was nice like that. She was a smart girl; she’d adjust eventually and he’d be with her every step of the way.
Steve checked the time. She would be leaving work soon and would be at her apartment in the next hour or so. He’d had Bucky reschedule his business dinner that evening so he could meet her at her—now former—apartment. It was only polite to tell her in person that she’d be moving in with him and that she’d be spending the rest of her life with him. He was nice like that.
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talesofadragon · 9 months
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𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬
Synopsis: The world was not created in colors to be lived seldom in white, black, or even gray. This is what Y/N believed, and she resolutely refuses to be told otherwise. But when a night at the city’s most prestigious nightclub triggers a series of misfortunate events, Y/N’s world of hues is thrown off balance, colliding with a stranger whose eyes may be blue but his world is a handful of shades too dark.  
Pairing: Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: Mature scenes. Minors DNI.
Word Count: 2.8K
Chapter 1 - Flat White | Varicolored Schemes Masterlist
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𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐖 York’s gateway to damnation.
Celebrated as the epitome of New York's nightlife, the club stood tall as a beacon of ecstasy. Its alluring neon lights and captivating fire displays worked their magic, casting a spell on anyone who entered. Not to mention how the bartenders' artistry in concocting sinful drinks and the hypnotic rhythm of the music had the power to transport patrons to the very edge of heaven's precipice.
Everyone loved Purgatory. Everyone except Y/N. She harbored not even a modicum of affinity for the newly inaugurated business. In her rather abashed opinion, Purgatory was a breathing disaster. The crimson walls reminded her of Christian Gray’s outrageous BDSM room, and the obsidian marble bar sparked memories of Voldemort’s reign of terror. Yes, black and red were colors that went well together, but the falu red walls were anything but flattering when the amber lights glided over them.
It was outrageous how long the waiting list was for a place as distasteful as this. Though the only redeeming factor, to some extent, was the quality of the drinks. But the bartender seriously needed to draw the limit for those who callously consumed alcohol as if they were born in Russia and had gained supernatural immunity against vodka’s kicks and punches.
Three guys had already attempted to take Y/N to the bathroom, which was a despicable shade of merlot, for a quick shag. And only one of the three walked away without the promise of a kiss from her pepper spray because he had been pulled by the ear by whom Y/N assumed was his girlfriend.
And to top it all off, Yelena, Y/N’s best friend, had disappeared somewhere in the crowd and wasn’t answering any of her texts. Feeling exasperated, Y/N retrieved her phone from her pocket. If Yelena continued to ignore her text messages, then it was time to make a call. Maybe the incessant vibration of her phone for a solid minute would finally capture Yelena's attention. The phone rang five times before Yelena finally picked up, and to Y/N’s misfortune, her friend didn’t sound alone.
“Please tell me you’re not on the phone with me while having sex with some guy.”
“I am not on the phone with you while having sex,” Yelena replied indignantly. There was some shuffling from her end of the line, audibly heard from the lack of blaring music. “I’m getting pizza with some people I met at the club.”
“You’re what? With who? And you didn’t think to tell me!”
“I’m telling you now.”
“How considerate of you,” Y/N seethed, gripping her phone tighter. She was already speeding out of the club, pushing her way through the drunken herd. “You couldn’t have informed me of your plans when you ditched me forty-five minutes ago?”
“No, because I didn’t have any plans forty-five minutes ago. I just had them five minutes before you called.”
Y/N inwardly groaned. Now that she was outside the club, she was certain that Yelena must have heard her. She forcefully yanked on the car door handle, hastening to insert the key into the ignition. "Seriously, Yelena? I can't believe you abandoned me for a group of strangers!"
"Hey!" Yelena chided. "I didn't ditch you for them. I ditched you for pizza."
“Yel—”
“Luigi’s Pizza.”
“Luigi’s! That’s all the way across town. Are you sure it's a good idea to go there with people you just met?”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to be talking on the phone while driving?”
“You’re on Bluetooth speaker right now,” Y/N fired back. She was starting to get visibly irritated.
“Good for you. Lock the doors while you’re driving, and keep the pepper spray close to you.”
Is she seriously going over a road safety protocol with me right now? Y/N thought. “You’re with a bunch of strangers. In a car that’s not your own. Going to goddamn Luigi’s at four in the morning! And you’re lecturing me about safety?”
“Yes,” came Yelena’s answer. Her tone was a perfect mix of exasperation and incredulity. “Besides, they should be more afraid of me than I will ever be of them.” Y/N couldn’t argue with that. “Now, let me focus on the road, птичка.”
“Are you really the one driving, Yel?” Y/N asked.
“Of course I am. You’d think I’d let some stranger drive me to Luigi’s?”
Y/N couldn't help but burst into laughter. It was such a quintessential Yelena remark. She was just about to caution her friend to stay safe when the call abruptly disconnected, leaving behind a resounding beep that filled the ensuing silence. She had to applaud Yelena for her dual role as both a nuisance and an entertainer.
Deciding not to bother and call again, Y/N focused on getting herself home. Fifteen minutes away from her house, she turned on her blinker and took a right turn. Unaware of the glass shards on the road ahead, Y/N let out a shriek when a loud popping noise flooded her ears. Her hands tightened their hold on the steering wheel as realization dawned on her: something was awry with her car. Its movements became increasingly hesitant, raising her anxiety levels with each passing moment.
By some stroke of luck, Y/N managed to park her car on the side of the road. Taking a few moments to collect herself, she focused on calming her racing thoughts. Without delay, she activated her emergency lights and cautiously stepped out of the vehicle. As she rounded the car, her gaze immediately landed on the deflated tire.
"You've got to be kidding me!" Frustration surged through Y/N as she swiftly retrieved her phone and dialed Yelena's number. The phone rang twice, briefly fanning the flames of Y/N’s hope, before the call abruptly ended. Trying once more, she stomped her feet on the road in frustration when it went straight to voicemail. "Goddamn Luigi’s! And goddamn you, Yelena Belova!"
When Yelena had invited her to Purgatory, Y/N didn’t think that she was going to be balancing on the edge of hell, her grip on sanity hanging by a thread.
She glared at her flat tire, her eyes wandering to the glass shards a couple of feet away and then to the dark sky above her. It was way too early for this shit. And while yes, Y/N did have a spare tire in her trunk, she had no idea how to change it. So, she did what any sane person would do in such a situation. She yelled out in frustration and kicked the goddamn thing.
After releasing her frustration, she got into the car and settled in the driver’s seat. Locking her doors and making sure her pepper spray was close by, Y/N started googling a 24/7 roadside assistance service. As her search results loaded in a flash, a sudden knock on her window stole her attention from the glowing screen, drawing her gaze to mesmerizing blue eyes on the other side of the glass.
Startled, Y/N jolted in her seat, instinctively leaning away from the window. However, her initial fear quickly transformed into astonishment as she focused on the man standing on the other side of the glass. He motioned for her to roll down her window, and she complied. Although the window only opened partially, leaving only a small gap, the stranger didn't seem to mind.
"Hello, ma'am," he greeted with a hint of a smile. His poised voice and penetrating blue eyes sent shivers down Y/N's spine.
She cleared her throat, trying to mask any hint of trepidation. "Hi," she replied, her voice steadier than she felt inside.
“I saw that you have a flat tire. Can I help you in any way?”
Y/N hesitated, glancing between him and her phone, unsure of how to respond. She waited for a moment, attempting to appear nonchalant, before replying, "Thank you. I appreciate the offer, but I'd rather call for roadside assistance."
"At four in the morning?" He tilted his head slightly to the right, and Y/N felt a nervous gulp rise in her throat. She couldn't tell if it was his chiseled jaw or his imposing gaze that unsettled her. "If you get a hold of them, it might take them an hour to get here. I can fix your tire in five minutes."
Y/N gnawed at her lower lip, torn between the convenience of accepting the stranger's help and her initial hesitation. She glanced between him and the road, contemplating her options. Did she really want to stay locked in her car for an entire hour, or did she want to get home quickly and rest in the comfort of her own bed?
"Besides a spare tire, I don't have a repair kit or anything," she admitted, her expression now tinged with a hint of hopelessness. While she was willing to accept the man's assistance, she feared that it might not be enough to get her back on the road.
The stranger's lips twitched, forming a reassuring smile that strangely comforted Y/N. "Don't worry about that. I've got you covered." His words seemed to carry an air of confidence that put her at ease.
Nodding her head, Y/N reached out to open the car door. The stranger fell back a step, extending a hand to help her out of her car. She cautiously accepted it, surprised by the softness of his touch and the delicate gesture.
As soon as she was out, he let go of her hand. Though his touch was polite and fleeting, Y/N found herself needing it to anchor her when she finally focused on him. She couldn't help but be struck by his height. Despite having to lean down to face her window, he easily towered over six feet.
Blinking owlishly, she fiddled with her keys before pressing a button to open the trunk. When the stranger passed her to grab the spare tire, she noticed him motioning for the two men in the black car behind her. She bristled, eyes wary. Her shoulders immediately relaxed when one of them fished out the tire repair kit and handed it to the stranger.
“Here you go, boss,” the man with brown hair tied in a bun said.
He straightened his black blazer, offering a brief nod in Y/N's direction. She eyed him curiously, following his light steps. Turning her attention back to the blond man, she couldn't help but feel intrigued. "What's your name?" she inquired.
He looked up at her, his piercing blue eyes meeting her gaze before he replied, "Steven. Though most people call me Steve, ma'am."
"Y/N," she clarified, introducing herself while absently placing a hand on her arm. Partly rubbing away the intrigue that slithered through her body and mostly attempting to conceal the areas her short mauve dress exposed.
“Y/N,” Steve enunciated. His delicate and euphonious words were a stark contrast to his intimidating stature. He studied her, regarding the way she shifted from one foot to another. She bit down on her tongue, ready to react in case of any abrupt movement. To her surprise, Steve shrugged off his jacket and extended it to her. “Would you mind holding on to it? I wouldn’t want to get it dirty.”
“Sure.” Her voice came out breathless, caught off guard by his request. She took the jacket from Steve’s hand, noting how he moved his fingers around to avoid brushing hers. The action was both welcome and disappointing because, despite Y/N's guarded demeanor, she couldn't help but feel drawn to Steve's enigmatic presence and the subtle grace with which he moved.
“You can put it on.”
“What?”
Steve laughed slightly at Y/N’s oblivious state. He regarded her as she hugged the piece of fabric close to her body, noting the way the faint street light glided over her soft features. “It’s cold. And if you insist on standing in the open road, I’d feel much better if you kept yourself warm.”
Y/N's fingers clenched tightly onto the fabric of Steve's leather jacket. The warmth that surged through her body in response to his words was palpable, yet she masked her emotions with caution. "It's alright," she responded carefully. "Thank you, but I really don't need to."
"I insist," Steve countered, his gaze carrying an air of authority. She found herself yielding to it, unable to resist. As soon as she placed the jacket on her shoulders, her nose embraced the dizzying scent of sandalwood and bourbon. She dug her hands into the jacket’s pockets, feeling at ease in Steve’s presence. “Do you live far?”
“Fifteen minutes away,” she replied.
Steve was currently engrossed in adjusting the new tire, and Y/N took the opportunity to quietly observe him. Her eyes traced his skillful fingers as they gripped the tire, and she found herself captivated by his blond hair and the strands that fell gently across his eyes.
“New Yorker?”
She shook her head. “I actually moved here a couple of months back. I’m from Washington.”
“Really? That’s where I met Sam,” Steve remarked, gesturing towards the car parked behind them where the two men sat. Y/N’s gaze shifted to the tall, black man with a laid-back expression, whom she identified as Sam. “Him and Bucky, the one beside him, are my best friends.”
“Didn’t the one with the man bun, uhh, Bucky, call you boss?”
Steve chuckled. “Yeah, it’s definitely a long story,” he admitted, leaving the details unspoken. After a brief pause, his curiosity turned toward Y/N. “What about you?” he inquired. “Made any friends here?”
“Not much,” she hummed. “Except for a best friend who decided that forgoing a slice of Luigi’s pizza in favor of keeping me company would be sacrilegious.”
The roaring of Steve’s laughter was welcome in the dimly lit road. For a moment, he forgot all about fixing the tire, letting his attention fall on Y/N. His voice was full of mirth as he spoke, “Luigi’s is a godsend. Tell her to try the Brooklyn special. It’s my favorite.”
“Now I know what to get you as a thank you for your services.”
“Don’t you worry about that, doll.” Steve flashed her a winsome smile, and she just knew that the goosebumps on her skin were not caused by the crisp wind around them. I’m just glad to have crossed your path.”
As Steve spoke, Y/N watched him deftly dust off his fingers and tidy up the tools. The five minutes seemed to pass all too quickly, much to Y/N's disappointment. He efficiently organized everything back in its designated spot, and when she tried to lend a hand, he kindly gestured for her to stop with a raised hand. Meanwhile, Bucky stepped out of the car and retrieved the kit from Steve, who was now carefully placing the old tire in Y/N’s trunk.
“I really can’t thank you enough for this,” YN expressed sincerely.
Steve closed her trunk, leaning against her car with a radiant grin. “It’s no problem at all.” He fished out a card holder from the pocket of his jeans and offered it to Y/N. “If you ever need anything, or you lose your friend to Luigi’s and find yourself in need of someone to talk to, don’t hesitate to give me a call. Even if it’s at four in the morning.”
Y/N's gaze fixed upon the card, her eyes gliding over the elegant golden letters delicately engraved on the sleek black paper. The minimalistic design caught her attention, showcasing only the essential contact details. It held a certain allure, an understated elegance that piqued her curiosity.
“Thank you,” she found herself saying. She wished she could say more, but the whole encounter had left her astounded. It was a wonder her brain even managed to form two words.
Reluctantly, Y/N observed Steve nodding his head as he bid her goodbye. He took his place in the back of his car but didn’t motion for Bucky to move. It took her a moment, perhaps a moment too long, to grasp that he was waiting for her to safely settle in her own car before he would depart.
Immediately, Y/N jumped in her car and turned it on. She waved at Steve as he passed by her car and went on his way. Suddenly, a realization struck Y/N like a striking lightning bolt. Two thoughts reverberated in her mind with newfound clarity.
Yelena’s unexpected disappearance turned out to be far more favorable than Y/N had initially thought. And to add to the intrigue, Steve had not only left her with his phone number but with his jacket and an open invitation to call him whenever she wanted. The weight of these revelations settled upon her, igniting a mix of curiosity and anticipation.
The day was shaping out to be a good one. Or so she thought.
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: ̗̀➛ Read Chapter 2 | Morally Gray
Series Taglist: @crazyunsexycool
From a "one shot" that was not supposed to exceed 6k words to a series, here's to hoping I make it a good one. Thank you for reading this! What are your thoughts so far?
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