#mafia!steve

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

King of Hearts

Chapter 1 - Long Live the King!

A Mafia!Steve Harrington AU (featuring Mafia!Eddie Munson)

Chapter Summary: The Mafia world is on edge when Steve Harrington comes back to town to take over for his father. His presence sets off a whirlwind of emotions that you'd thought you'd buried long ago.

18+ Only! Minors DNI! (Future smut and mature themes!)

CW: Slow burn. Exes to lovers. Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Dove." Angst. Pining. Reader is married to an abusive asshole (this will get worse as the story progresses). Reader is assaulted. Talk of death. Funeral. Drug use/abuse.

WC: 6.1K

You crept through the foyer, hoping the small sound of the door closing wouldn’t rouse anyone in the large house.

Removing your heels from your stocking clad feet, so that you could silently move through the room and quickly check your surroundings, pausing, listening. You were met with nothing but the sound of your heartbeat reverberating in your chest.

You thought you were in the clear, but your false sense of security was quickly shattered, rounding the corner only to be met with your husband’s steely glare. A cigarette and stiff drink in hand. He was home early.

Nikolai was a large, intimidating man with broad shoulders, sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that threatened to set anyone aflame that came near.

He was sitting in front of the large fireplace in the study. When you caught his gaze, he bid you to come forward as he set the drink down. Brining the cigarette to his lips, taking a long inhale before resting it alongside his drink.

Dressed in his usual suit, his jacket left on the chair behind him, leaving him in a white button up with the sleeves rolled up on his forearms revealing an expanse of black ink beneath.

You shuffled forward slowly, crossing your arms behind your back with your heels still dangling from your fingertips.

“Tough day, my love?” he cooed, in a sickly-sweet voice that would almost sound sincere to anyone else. His lips turned up into a cruel smirk as he turned to look at you.

You hated it when he called you that. There was only one man that said it and ever truly meant it.

“You know exactly how my day has been.” You hissed, already over his little games.

“Now kitten, a little birdie told me you were seen with him. Though, it doesn't come as a surprise.” Calm tone, but you knew that was about to change. The literal calm before the storm.

“Nik,” you started, his palm met your cheek with a sharp smack that echoed in the otherwise quiet space, along with the thud of your heels that fell from your grasp. Your eye instantly welled, unable to control the tears forming from the force of his blow. Pain instantly searing the skin.

You could taste the familiar metallic tang in your mouth, as you reached up trying to soothe the discomfort. Yet another bruise to hide in the morning.

Ever defiant, you raise your head slowly, to meet his cold, indifferent gaze.

He gripped your chin, forcing your face closer to his.

“Now, kitten,” no feeling whatsoever behind those words.

“This kind of behavior just won’t do for my reputation. I can't let you go whoring around with him out in public, making me look like a fool in the process.”

He removed his hand slightly, only to cup your cheek engulfing it with his large palm. It was tender, a stark contrast to the pain he had just inflicted. Raised welts beginning to form under his touch.

Playing this same game a dozen times over, you know how it ends. One moment an enraged monster, the next a doting husband.

He pushed your face a little harshly, putting some distance between you to take his leave.

“Clean yourself up and get ready for dinner. Your father will be joining us.” He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours, catching the back of your head pressing you closer to his larger frame. You made no attempt to push him away, knowing it would only spur his anger.

He released you, grabbing his jacket and turning back one last time before he spoke.

“And kitten, end it. Or I will.”

Your father, the head of the crime ring. Your husband, a marriage for alliance. You, an heiress to the proverbial throne.

You didn’t want any of it. Caught in the middle and destined to forever be separated from the man you loved.

You thought you were being careful. You both should have known better.

8 Weeks Earlier

The gallery you managed downtown was your escape from all things family or business related. Here you could be your own person, not feeling bound by duty or marriage. It was your grandmother that instilled a love of art within you at a very young age taking you to art exhibits or museums around the city. You fell in love with the beauty and feeling of it all.

A new piece had just been delivered that you were examining, thoroughly ignoring your surroundings as usual, much too focused on the matter at hand.

You hadn’t heard him enter, as he came to stand directly behind you, pressed in much too close.

Tiny glasses perched toward the end of your nose; he watched the way you were so intently focused on nothing else in the world carefully focusing, stopping only to write small notes on the clipboard in your grasp.

“Little Dove,” clearing his throat slightly, startling you a bit.

You whirled around, only to be met with golden caramel mossy framed eyes staring back at you. The nickname uttered from his lips like soft silk.

“Steve?” you asked, almost breathless. You thought it would be a cold day in hell before you saw him again.

“In the flesh.” He grinned softly, holding his arms out as if showing himself off. Dressed in a navy-blue pinstripe suit and gray turtleneck that you were sure came straight from Italy just as he had.

“What… What are you doing here?” your tone more whispered as you looked around to make sure no one was watching.

“It’s ok, I made sure to slip past them. Your tails… uh… aren’t that great.” He whispered back in a mocking tone, chuckling lightly.

“You look…” you studied the man before you. “You look different, good.”

The last time you had seen Steve he still had his boyish features, but a man stood before you now. Rugged, but clean cut, sporting shorter, more tamed hair with slight stubble lining his jaw. He was even more handsome than you remembered. Italy seemed to be treating him well.

There was an air about him that commanded attention. When he entered a crowded room, he knew everyone would fall in line. A far cry from that party boy years ago. A boy that only ever had eyes for one girl, the woman stood before him now.

“Tesoro, leave it to you to find a job surrounded by beauty but you are the most beautiful piece here.” He smiled that crooked grin that always made you melt, his words syrupy sweet, cheeks heating at the praise.

You clutched the clipboard in your hands closer to your chest, face casting downward as an attempt to hide the blush that crept across your face.

You'd been told you were beautiful by countless men your entire life but when it came from the one man that mattered you turned into a shy mess.

His attention suddenly made it feel like all those years ago, hiding away in a dark corner as he spoke sweet nothings into your ear. Trailing kisses down your neck. Telling you the endless things he'd do for you, or to you.

Two young lovers hidden away from the world with nothing but dreams in their heads and stars in their eyes. Still naive to how cruel and unfair the world could truly be.

Eight years since you've seen him and yet staring at him before you it's as if not a single day has passed. It would be so easy to pick up where you left off, if only…

You snapped out of it, suddenly realizing the only reason he'd be back, shifting your gaze back to him.

“I'm sorry to hear about your father.” His smile fading as he nodded. “I know you two never saw eye to eye, but…”

“It’s okay Dove.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers, eyes casting downward. “It was only a matter of time. He'd been hiding the cancer diagnosis for months now.”

So, it wasn't a rival family or hired hitman that took him out. It was cancer. Everyone had been wondering when the news had come.

“I was still sorry to hear it, Steve.” You hesitantly reached out and rested your hand on his arm, squeezing lightly. “How's Pip holding up?”

Steve's younger sister, never seeing the cruel side of Richard Harrington the way he had. Pip was his Princess and she never let anyone forget that. She went to live with her mother when she was very young, only seeing Richard on holidays and birthdays. It was only natural she was devastated from his death.

“About as well as you'd expect. She uh…” pausing to scratch at his brow. A habit he always had when he was trying to find his words. “She's not doing well. I'm not sure how she's going to get through it tomorrow. I’m sending her back to live with mamma. I think it'll do her some good to get out of the city for a while.”

You didn't pry, knowing Pip was a little reckless and wild. She always gave Steve a run for his money when they were younger. Seems things hadn't changed much for her.

“I'm surprised she's listening to you.” You laughed out.

“I'm not giving her a choice.” You nodded in understanding. Steve was already taking his new role as head of the family very seriously, but you'd expect nothing less.

He was born to one day take over for his father, trained and taught all the ins and outs of this life from a very young age. He would, no doubt in your mind, lead the entire city one day, especially hearing the rumors from across the sea about how ruthless he could be, but you couldn't quite imagine the Steve you once knew to be anything but the kind, caring gentleman before you.

In this world, those kinds of assumptions are what get you killed, and you knew full well Steve had changed. You were unsure of just how much.

As comfortable silence fell between you, he allowed himself to let his eyes linger over you once more. Your back stiffened as you looked from the entrance back to him, shattering this moment of peace as reality settled back in.

“Well, Mr. Harrington it's been nice seeing you, but I must get back to work before those two idiots do their walk through to check up on me.”

“Ms. Alexander.” He smiled, nodding his goodbye.

“Right. Apologies Mrs. Alexander-Petrov. I'll see myself out. Take care, Tesoro.”

“It's Mrs. Alexander-Petrov, but you know that.” He did know, but his jaw tightened when he heard it spoken aloud. To imagine you and Nikolai Petrov together made his blood boil.

Little Niki had been a vile womanizer. He and Steve knew each other from boyhood and their father’s dealings. He just hoped he was good to you and worships you the way he himself wishes he could.

“Tell Eddie I said hi.” You called after him.

“Of course, Dove.” Stopping to look at you one last time.

You watched him exit out the back, through the alleyway.

There was still something there. That spark you couldn't deny. Maybe it was just you looking for closure but deep down you knew it would never truly be over between you. He

was your first love, always hoping he would have been your last.

It was a somber affair with a huge turnout. The Church was packed full of mournful guests.

For a funeral, it was still lavish. Old world money mixed with new. Women flaunting their Gucci or Louis Vuitton came second nature. Men with their expensive suits and gold watches. Any excuse to flaunt the wealth they had accumulated.

Family and business associates mingled, sewing together their tales and fond memories of the late Richard Harrington.

If you looked closely at the crowd, you could spot a few enemies mixed within, come to see the bastard exactly where they'd wished him to be.

As is tradition, you didn't necessarily come to pay respect to the dead, but you still paid respect to the family.

Steve and Pip, at the head of the church, accepting well wishes from each person that passed by. Eddie stood a few feet away giving them space but if anyone truly knew him, he was just as much family as the Harrington siblings.

Steve was stoic. From the moment you spotted him, you could tell he was trying to be strong. You couldn't help thinking of how handsome he looks, even in this setting. Pip could never hide her emotions, every person she talked with sent a fresh wave of tears flowing.

You had accompanied your father, David Alexander. Nikolai had excused himself from coming at the last minute, saying he had an emergency to take care of at the club. You didn't buy his lie but didn't bother arguing.

You had dressed simply, all black like the rest of the crowd. Knee length, quarter sleeved dress. Tight, but not suffocating. Modest compared to Pip’s attire. That girl never knew how to do anything simple or modest, her flamboyant personality would never allow it.

You both stood in line to see them, your eyes darting back up to Steve every few minutes.

“You're too quiet. What's eating at you?” Your dad leaned over to whisper.

“Hmm?” Your eyes shot up to his. “Nothing, just a lot on my mind.”

He squinted down at you as your head drifted toward the front once again. He followed your gaze, softly smiling to himself.

“Steven’s looking well, no? That boy has really grown into his own.”

You placed your arm around his when he extended his elbow, comfortably settling your hand to his forearm as he led you down the aisle.

“Yes, he looks well.” You hummed and nodded.

Your father grinned to himself as your eyes traveled back toward the front. He patted your hand and sighed as the line in front of you began to dwindle.

The couple ahead of you peeled themselves away from the siblings. Revealing you and your father to them.

Steve's eyes lit up immediately, but he held his solemn expression trying not to give himself away.

Your father spoke up first.

“Steven, my boy,” holding out his hand to greet him. “It's good to see you. My condolences, to you and your sister.”

Steve shook his hand, “Thank you, Mr. Alexander.”

“Please, call me David, son.” It made your heart warm faintly at the thought of your father seeing Steve for not only the man he now was but as an equal, first name basis was usually left for business partners or family only. Your father commanded an air of respect, especially from other families.

Their small talk faded from you as you looked over at Pip. She was so different from the last time you'd seen her. Her frame appearing thin with a sickly pallor accompanying dark sunken eyes.

When she spotted you staring at her, she smiled sweetly, reaching out to hug you.

“Dove!” She almost shrieked.

Your arms hugged her tightly to your chest, confirming what your eyes had seen. She was thin, strikingly so, filling you with worry.

“Pip, I’m so sorry sweet girl.” You soothingly rubbed her back, as a sob racked her body. You let her shed a few tears as she sniffed and leaned back up wiping at her cheeks.

“I’ll be okay, it's just hard knowing he's truly gone. But it's so good to see you. Let's catch up soon.” You nodded, squeezing her hand gently. She didn't let go immediately, grasping a little harder.

“Dove, will you please sit with me during the service?” Her eyes softly pleading, reminding you of your days as children when she would beg you to play a game or watch a movie instead of hanging out with her brother. She was by all accounts your little sister too.

“If it's alright with Steve, I…”

“Steve doesn't care. Do you, Stevie?” Her hand flew up, batting his chest as he gritted his teeth releasing a harsh breath.

“Not at all, Dove. But only if you're comfortable with…”

“She's fine Steve. Thank you, Dove!” She hugged you once more as you heard Steve mumble, “anything for the Princess.”

She shot him a glare before releasing you as you turned your attention toward him.

“Steve, I'm so sorry.” You wound your arms around his neck. His stiff demeanor immediately deflated and melted with your soft touch as his arms found their way around your waist, pressing you further into him. His scent enveloped you, smelling of the warm, spicy cologne he wore.

You held each other for a moment too long, getting lost in the warmth of his embrace, finally coming to your senses and easing back.

“I guess I'll see you up there.” Taking a step further back, seeing him nod.

“I…” He was about to speak before someone cut him off with more condolences as you shied away searching for your father who had already taken a seat in the back, speaking with some men that ran in his circle.

You weaved your way in and out of the crowd. Chatting with familiar faces and being polite to those you didn't quite know.

As the music began to play, everyone found their respective seats for the service to begin. You made your way to the front, feeling eyes on you as you went.

Pip was seated right beside Steve, but once she spotted you, she scooted over. Patting the space between the two of them.

You sat closer to her, trying not to crowd Steve into the corner.

“Thank you, Dove.” She whispered, taking your hand in hers. Black gloves covering her dainty fingers.

“Of course.” You stared ahead, trying not to cut your eyes over to him. The small space between you didn't shield you from the heat that radiated from him.

He remained quiet, but you heard him sigh softly. You wished you could hold his hand and bring him some sense of comfort. In another time and place you could imagine taking your seat beside him without the judgmental looks and hushed whispers.

The service went swiftly, Pip leaning on your shoulder and clutching your hand the entire time as she sobbed and sniffled. Steve maintained the same level of stoicism throughout.

You lost your mother at a very young age. The loss of a parent is something you never truly get over. You could relate in some sense, though you never truly knew your mother.

“Dove, you can ride with us to the cemetery. There's more than enough room.” She leaned over to whisper while they were finishing up, garnering Steve's attention as well.

“Pip.” He hissed, throwing her a warning glare.

“What?” She whispered more loudly, looking past you then.

“I'm sure she doesn't have all day to babysit you.” He said it without looking back at her.

You could see the sadness slowly subside on her face, as it was replaced with anger.

“Fuck you, Steve.” She spat, getting up from her seat, loud in the relatively quiet space while the priest was finishing his last prayer, momentarily causing him to pause, as she stomped down the aisle.

You were taken aback by the outburst but not surprised. Pip was a loose cannon, especially when it came to Steve. Two such domineering personalities that always clashed.

He was about to get up, but you grabbed his forearm stopping him, as he looked at you with a furrowed brow.

“Hey, don't worry. I'll go after her. You stay.” You reassured him.

“You don't have to do that. She's just…” he whispered.

“No, it's okay. Let me go talk to her.”

He nodded, as you slid from the seat. Holding your head high as you followed her, avoiding sideways gazes thrown your way.

You found her sitting on the steps outside the church, smoking a cigarette. Her mascara had begun to run but she hasn't bothered trying to wipe it away this time.

“Hey, you.” You lowered yourself down, knocking your shoulder into hers as you sat.

She took a long drag, exhaling toward the sky as the smoke curled away from her lips, letting the ashes fall to the concrete beside her.

“He doesn't have to treat me like a child. I know I've got issues but I'm not a fucking child. Mr. I don't show my emotions so you shouldn't either. Our dad died. You think the least he could do is show me a little compassion or act like he gives a shit.” She released a tagged sigh, taking the cigarette to her lips once more.

“I don't think he necessarily means to make you feel like that. Steve has a lot on his shoulders and your dad, well… he and Steve never saw eye to eye. I know he's hurting too, but he has to be strong. You know how it is with these men.” You rubbed soothing circles to her back as you spoke.

She sniffed, pulling a tissue out to wipe her face.

“I can ride to the cemetery with you. I don't mind.”

“That'd be nice.” A faint smile crossed her face, as you wrapped your arm around her waist. “I'm going to get cleaned up. Wait for me?”

“Of course.” You helped her up, following her back into the lobby as the service ended, watching her disappear into the restroom.

You caught your father on his way out, letting him know you were going with them, and he could head home if he needed to.

“If you're sure.” He kissed your forehead, before leaving you to stand by the door waiting for her to exit, when Steve strode up beside you.

“Where's Pip?!” He asked, a little breathless.

“She's in the restroom.” As soon as you got the sentence out, he began to bang on the door, twisting the knob.

“Steve, what're you doing? For God's sake, give her a little privacy.” You pleaded.

“Pip, open the goddamn door.” He rushed out, pounding his fists harder than before, looking worried when he was met with silence.

“Steve?” You looked around, a crowd slowly gathering around at his outburst.

“Just step back, I'm knocking the door down.”

You did as you were told, with your heart beginning to pound in your chest at how worried he seemed.

“Pip, I'm coming in!” He shouted, before his shoulder slammed into it, knocking it open as he rushed in.

You turned the corner to see Pip, slumped over against the back wall passed out. Your mind didn't comprehend what you were seeing at first.

He knelt down beside her, pulling her face up and lightly slapping her cheek.

“Pip! Wake up! Goddamnit!” His fingers flew to her neck, checking for a pulse.

It all seemed to be happening in slow motion as you watched the scene unfold. Eddie rushed in beside you, as Steve yelled at him to bring the car around, lifting her up with him from the ground, moving aside as he passed you.

It was frantic, the sea or people parting to let them go by as you stood there in shock. Watching Steve run with her lifeless body in tow.

Only coming to your senses when you hear someone close by seemingly laughing at the scene. “Pip, always the life of the party.” They sneered.

You looked around the small bathroom, spotting her purse on the floor, quickly picking it up and taking it with you avoiding the gazes of onlookers but keeping your head held high all the way.

Richard Harrington was buried while colleagues and friends looked on. None of his children were there to see him interred.

You were ringing your hands in the back seat as your chauffeur took you across town the next morning. Nerves getting the better of you.

It has been years since you've seen the Harrington residence but as soon as it comes into view memories begin to flood your mind.

There were the sweet moments when you were young children. Playing in the garden or swimming in the pool. You, Steve and Pip. Much simpler times when a game of hide and seek could keep you all occupied for hours.

Isabella Harrington had finally had enough right after Steve turned 10, leaving Richard and taking Pip with her back to Italy. She didn't leave Steve to fend for himself intentionally but given the option of losing both her children or taking Pip, she has no other choice.

Suddenly, the play dates were dwindling, and you began to see less and less of Steve. Separate schools made it even harder but despite it all you remained close.

You'd been in love with Steve since you were 12 when he told you that one day he was going to marry you and gave you your first kiss behind the pool house.

So caught up in your thoughts you hadn't heard the driver or noticed the car had stopped.

“Miss? Are you alright?” He said a little louder, catching your attention and thoroughly pulling you from your daydream.

“Hmmmm? Yes, fine, thank you.” Replying quickly.

“We’ve arrived, Mrs. Petrov.” He said as he exited the car, coming around to get your door.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you removed yourself, neck craning upward. The house seemed bigger, more intimidating than you remembered.

Immediately clocking several security personnel stationed in various positions around the yard, no doubt already alerting him to your arrival as you stepped across the cobblestone drive, heels a little unsteady against the uneven stone.

Reaching the few steps to the large front door, it opened before you had the chance to knock.

“Hi stranger!” Eddie beamed down at you. Curls tied back into a low bun, still dressed to impress. Burgundy silk dress shirt thrown over his frame, tattooed forearms on display. He was handsome in his own right.

“Hi Eddie! How have you been?” You stepped closer to him, pulling him in for a quick hug. “Sorry we didn't get to chat yesterday.”

“Doing well, and don't sweat it. There was a lot going on.” He laughed, albeit a little nervously as he pulled back. “He's in the office, you can follow me.”

You remembered the layout fairly well, the office was at the back of the house on the first floor. A large space, with windows overlooking the expanse of the back garden.

Eddie walked quietly ahead of you, as you looked around the house. It was exactly as you remembered. Dark walls with marble flooring leading to the ornate door at the end of the hall.

He didn't bother knocking, as you followed him in. The curtains were drawn back from the windows letting the natural light illuminate the space.

Steve leaned against the far wall staring out the window. He was dressed down in a sky blue short sleeved shirt and cream-colored trousers. He turned, chestnut locks a little unkempt with a thin gold chain resting against his chest.

He turned in time to see you both enter, pushing off the wall to meet you halfway.

“Dove! What a pleasant surprise.” He flashed you a warm smile, turning to dismiss Eddie as he closed the door behind him.

“I brought Pip’s clutch.” Holding out for him to take.

“Thanks, I'll let her know. Though I'm not sure she even missed it.” He sighed, easing it from your hand, tossing it to the desk beside him.

You'd heard she'd barely made it to the hospital. Apparently, the coke she had ingested was laced with fentanyl. Pip was a party girl, she hadn't intentionally tried to overdose which was a relief, all things considered.

“How is she?” You asked.

“I honestly don't know. I thought she…” His face flashed with momentary worry, before shaking it off. “She's going to rehab before I send her back to Italy. I think this might have actually scared some sense into her even though she's pissed at me.”

“You're doing the right thing. She needs you to be there for her.” Reassuring him.

He nodded before you both fell into a comfortable silence as your eyes took in the room. He had already begun renovating it to his liking which made you smile.

“I thought it could use an update.” He said, as if reading your mind.

The wallpaper was being taken down, replaced with a fresh coat of paint. Steve has always hated his father's gaudy taste, as if he needed to remind himself of his wealth in his own office. Steve was humble, he didn't need to flaunt and inflate himself to others. You admired him for that, always staying true to himself.

“I'm sure it'll be perfect. Doing the whole house, I hope? The medieval dungeon theme is so last year.” He chuckled.

“You don't like it? I thought about adding some chains and cuffs in the hall to really set it off.” You both laughed.

“But, yes I'm planning an overhaul for the entire house.” For a moment he wondered what you would do with the place. He could imagine the way your eyes lit up knowing you could make it your own.

A place for you and him to raise a couple of kids, have family dinners every Sunday and eventually grow old together. Or would you want to move out of the city altogether? Sell this old house and start anew?

If only he knew the similar thoughts that swirled through your mind but you couldn't allow yourself to dwell.

You suddenly checked your watch, clearing your throat.

“I'm sorry to cut this short, I've got a client coming by in a few.” Sighing to yourself.

“No worries. I'll let Pip know you brought this by.” Holding her purse up for emphasis. “Let me walk you out.”

He followed closely behind you down the hall, just shy of reaching his palm out to your lower back, into the foyer as one of the security guards opened the front door.

You turned once more to bid him farewell but it was he who spoke first.

“Dove, you're welcome here anytime. Please, stop by. I'll even show you my fancy cooking skills sometime.” He grinned, the smile reaching his eyes, boyish and bright.

“Steve Harrington cooks? This I'll have to see.” Mirroring his smile, as your driver opened your door. “Bye Steve.”

He waved, as you got in and continued to watch your car exit the drive.

He couldn't explain it. The inexplicable need to be near you. Wishing for another life. A once upon a time he could have had with you.

Alone in his big house, with no one to share it with, he sighed heavily making his way back to his office.

Fairy tales, he thinks. Meant for much gentler souls than he. Someone deserving of it, brave and pure of heart, just like the stories his mother used to read to him and Pip when they were still children, still room to believe in such notions as soul mates and true loves first kiss.

Eddie was waiting there, sitting behind his desk.

“Call for you.” He stated, getting up from the chair extending the phone towards him.

“Take a message, I'm not in the mood right now. I'll call them back.” He crossed the room, pouring himself a drink.

“Steve, I think you're going to want to take this.”

You hated lying but you had to get out of there.

A whole lifetime's worth of memories seemed to overtake you when you stepped through the threshold of a home that you practically grew up in.

You dreaded going back to your own home. A home that you'd hoped one day would have been filled with love that never came to fruition.

Such high hopes in the beginning with Nikolai.

He was the perfect gentleman. A whirlwind romance that had you so swept away you didn't see his true colors until it was too late.

So caught up with what he was, but it was truly only what he showed you. What he wanted you to believe.

Soon after your marriage, it was late nights at his clubs coming home smelling of liquor and sweet smelling perfume that turned into not coming home at all some nights.

You'd wanted white picket fences and children laughing down the hall. He gave you heartache and crying alone in your empty king sized bed.

Almost five years later and you're left to question if he ever loved you or if it had all been a strategy to gain his power.

Later that night you were in the study reading on the large sofa, room lit softly by the fireplace. Cozy in silk pajamas and your favorite blanket, it was the perfect end to the day as you sipped some wine.

Nik slipped in, late as usual, loosening his tie as he stomped into the room.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” He hissed.

“Well, nice to see you too, dear.” You didn't look up, only rolling your eyes. “It looks like I'm reading, no?”

“Why the hell did you go to Harrington's today?” He stepped in front of you, crossing his arms.

“I was returning Pip’s clutch. She left it at the church.” Shrugging and returning to your book as if it should be the end of it.

“You expect me to believe that?” He leaned down, arm caging you in, as he swiftly pulled the book from your hand tossing it in the empty space of the couch beside you. Closing in, almost nose to nose, as his imposing frame hovered over you.

“It's the truth, Nik. I really don't care what you choose to believe.” You spat back at him. Not at all in the mood for his little games or vile attitude.

You knew the only reason he skipped the funeral was because he had a bone to pick with Richard. Now it seems he's trying to take it up with Steve.

You pushed his chest, getting up from the couch as you started to cross the room now done with the conversation but he grabbed your arm, wrenching you back around to face him.

“Let's get one thing straight, YOU, under no circumstances, are to see him again.” His grip tightening as he spoke. He'd never laid a hand on you, but the way he was squeezing you now was surely going to leave a mark.

“Nik, let me go. You can't forbid me to stay away from my childhood friends. You're being ridiculous. Steve is not Richard. You have nothing against him.” His grip only grew tighter, shaking you just a bit as you tried to pull yourself free. “Nik! Let go of me!”

“No Y/N! I mean it. You are not to see him again!” Screaming in your face, droplets of spital flying toward you. “Do you understand me?”

You finally nodded. Worrying if you tried to push the issue further it would only make things worse.

“Say it!” He shouted.

“I understand. Now, let me go!” He did so, pushing you slightly away from him.

“Good.” He sneered, smirk now donning his face as he brushed past you on his way to pour himself a drink from the small bar in the corner of the room as you quickly grabbed your things.

You passed one of Nik’s security details, whose gaze fell away from you as you rushed out of the room, he'd overheard the entire thing. You were mortified at his behavior. Nik was a grade A asshole but he had never been physical.

Your feet carried you swiftly to your room, heaving a sigh of relief as you locked the door behind you. Glad to have some kind of barrier between the two of you tonight.

Running into the bathroom, you slid your robe from your shoulder to examine your arm. It was already starting to form finger shaped bruises.

You could easily hide them, wearing long sleeves, which you did most days. It was horrifying to think you had no choice but to hide them. HE had done this to you.

You washed your face and slid into bed, crying softly to yourself as your mind began spiraling. This was a life you had never wanted.

A husband that never looks at you, unless it's with disdain and contempt. Now seemingly hell bent on keeping you in line the way he sees fit. When words don't work, he'll easily use brute force to bend you to his will.

Telling Steve would be completely out of the question for both of your sakes, but in the coming days you would soon find out how difficult it would be to avoid him completely.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #mafia!steve harrington #mafia!steve #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson #mafia au #mafia!eddie #mafia!eddie munson #joe keery #joseph quinn #king of hearts #KOH

[bucksangel]

you taste like suburbia

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

word count: 6.4k

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

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

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

tip jar | masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Apparently not.

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

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

Steve speaks up next.

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

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

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

“I’ll go with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait.”

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

“This is my room?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck good decisions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure, Bucky.”

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

“I’m sure, Daddy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s perfect, isn’t she Stevie?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where are they?

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

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

“I want him gone within the hour.”

“Off the bridge.”

“They won’t find him.”

But one line hits you differently.

“Don’t let her find out.”

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

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

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

“But, Buck-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[neonovember]

Deceit

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics​ !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His reach was absolute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet it had men like Steve falling to his knees!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He might as well have died along with her.

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

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

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

You’d much prefer the monster.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You cut your eyes towards him, narrowing your lids.

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s different” You reply evenly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

His brown locks shift as he turns back to you

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

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

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

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

Not that shitty huh Bucky?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You blurt out

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

What had changed?

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

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

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

“Friend?” You reply

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

“Sure” 

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

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

“Mare?

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

Especially in New York.

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

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

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

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

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #neonovember #chris evans #sebastian stan #marvel masterlist #marvel cinematic universe #duplicity #neo writes #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x black!fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x black!fem!reader #mob!steve x reader #mob!bucky x reader #mob!steve #mob!au #mob steve rogers #mafia!steve #mafia!avengers #mafia!au #mafia au #mafia bucky #mafia steve rogers

[natashadied4oursins]

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.

#mafia steve #mafia!steve #mafia!steve x reader #mafia!steve rogers #mafia steve rogers #mob steve rogers #mob!steve x reader #mob!steve rogers #steve x reader #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x you #natashadied4oursins

[toomanyrobins2]

creating your own sunshine (5/18)

Summary: Their world is in chaos. HYDRA is a constant threat and Bucky Barnes is feeling the pressure. All around him, his friends have paired off and started families. Families that are now in danger. Sunny, the new bartender at the Ivory, tumbles into Bucky’s life and drives him up the wall in the process. She’s mouthy and stubborn and yet, for some reason, he can’t seem to pull away.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: mentions of abuse(caning and scars), abduction

Notes: Hi! So...it's been six months and I'm very sorry for how long it's taken me! I'm slowly dipping my tow back into things and you may recognize part of this chapter. I have reorganized from of the previous parts but the plot remains the same! Thank you so much for your patience and if you don't care about this series anymore and want to be removed from the taglist, I completely understand!

series masterlist // next part

Bucky decided to stop by Y/N’s place on the way home. Thor had told him that she was sick, but he knew that was a lie. As soon as the door swung open, he could tell she was shocked to see him at her door. Sunny paused for a moment, but eventually, she stepped aside and let him in.

Full of stress, and without thinking, she shed her flannel and revealed more of her body than Bucky had ever seen. He sucked in a breath when he saw the raised marks all over her upper back and arms. He came up behind her, letting his finger trace down a particularly long scar, “Sunny, what the hell is this?”

“Nothing,” She turned her face away and moved across the room to put as much distance between them as possible. 

A blind man could have seen the terror written across her face and Bucky tried his best to be calm, but firm. “That’s not nothing and you’re worrying me with how panicked you are. Now turn around.”

“No.”

“No?”

Bucky watched the tears start to spill down her cheeks and how her chin wobbled, “Please don’t make me.”

The fear in her eyes absolutely gutted him. He’d never had someone so frightened of him when they had no reason to. Plenty of enemies had looked at him like that and rightly so. Much of the city looked on with respect and a tinge of fear. But, terror from someone he wanted to protect gutted him and the anger started to melt away. He would do anything to never see it directed at him again. Bucky pulled his hoodie off and handed it to her. She snatched it away and quickly pulled it on. “Doll, you’re really worrying me.” He tried to take a step forward, but she mirrored him with a step away. “At least sit down. I promise I won’t come any closer.”

Y/N nodded and walked to the armchair furthest from the kitchen. Fingering the knife she’d tucked behind the cushion, she pulled her knees up to her chest. “You can come here,” she whispered. Bucky slowly made his way over and sat on the floor next to the chair. He didn’t move to touch her, afraid she'd spook. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?”

“I don’t know…you’re not mad?”

Bucky held her hand, running his thumb across the back, “No, I’m not mad. I’m confused and worried about you. All I was going to do was come by to apologize for kissing you.” 

“They’re scars.” Now the anger was definitely flaring up again. Who had dared to hurt Sunny? She saw the questions on his face and sighed, “A cane, and I think a knife,” she mumbled, “My dad.”

“Your dad did this? Why?”

Y/N shrugged, “Look, it’s none of your business and not something I like talking about. Can I just go to bed? Please? It’s been a long day.”

“You just told me your dad caned and cut you until they left permanent marks and you want to go to bed?” She nodded and gripped her legs tighter. Bucky could see that she was shaking and sighed, “Okay. Let’s go to bed.” He hoisted her into his arms, letting her head tuck into the crook of his neck. Y/N clung to him even as he pulled the covers over her. He tried to move away, but she kept her arms wrapped around him. He could feel the tears on his shoulder and just squeezed her a little tighter. The anger was still raging in him, but the sorrow at how small she seemed in the moment worked to quell it. Right now she needed him and the need for information had to wait.

Eventually, her grip gave way and she fell asleep. It broke Bucky’s heart to see the tear tracks on her cheeks and the way she had curled in on herself. He slipped out of her grip and decided to pull her jeans off so she’d be more comfortable. As her thighs were revealed, he saw raised lines across them and realized that her back hadn’t been the only place where her father had directed his hits. God, he hated himself for never noticing before. What kind of person was he that he had missed all of this?

The next morning, Y/N woke up in bed alone and as the memories flooded back she whined and ran her hands down her face. She hadn’t saved up enough money left but the embarrassment was enough for her to consider running into the night and never looking back. Hearing noises from the kitchen, Y/N shot out of bed and found Bucky making something delicious smelling in her kitchen. Pulling the hoodie tighter, she slunk into the living room. The large man spun around when he heard the floor creak and smiled, “Have a seat! I'm making breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“Most important meal of the day!” 

Y/N peaked around her shoulder, “What is it?”

“Banana french toast and lots of maple syrup.”

“I don’t own any of these things. I don’t even think that’s my pan or my flippy thing.”

Bucky laughed, “The flippy thing is called a spatula and I went shopping while you slept in.” He handed her a mug, “Now take this and go sit down.”

She took the steaming cup of tea from him and walked over to one of the stools. Y/N wondered if this was a strange dream. Bucky was cooking her breakfast and acting like nothing had happened. Sipping the tea, she watched him with a distrustful gaze as he hummed along to the Ray Charles playing from his phone. “Are you really not gonna ask me about anything?”

Bucky plated the french toast and drizzled maple syrup over it. Presenting it to Y/N, she just stared at him with her eyebrow raised. He sighed, “No. I’m not asking questions.”

“Why?”

“Do you want me to ask questions?”

“No.”

“Great! Eat your french toast and then we’ll go to work. I already called for a car.”

Y/N ate the rest of her breakfast and then some of Bucky’s. She hated to admit it, but he knew what he was doing and it was delicious. Quickly changing, she returned his hoodie and they went off to work. Alarms were blaring through her head as they continued to go through the day as if nothing had changed. No kiss. No scars. No falling asleep in each other’s arms.

**************************

@mycosmicparadise

@marvelofwitch

@redhairedfeistynerd

@buckys-left-middle-finger

@majo240820

@xcharlottemikaelsonx

@star017

@boisewaffles

@dottirose

@hawkeyes-queen

@redbloodedgurl

#toomanyrobins #☀️ #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #avengers imagine #avengers #avengers au #avengers x reader #mafia!au #Bucky Barnes x reader #mafia!bucky x reader #mafia!bucky barnes #sebastian stan au #Sebastian stan #Sebastian stan x reader #Sebastian stan imagine #mafia!steve #mafia!peter parker #winter soldier imagine

[ameliora-j]

mafia!character is so big bad and mean till u literally call him pookie bear then he: “(-_-)… ╭( ๐_๐)╮…(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)”

#mafia!ron #mafia!steve #mafia!remus #mafia!regulus #mafia!james #mafia!sirius #mafia!eddie #mafia!loki #mafia!stephen #mafia!jonathan #mafia!harry #mafia!luke #mafia!michael #mafia!niall

[biteofcherry]

Is Mafia Steve the kind man to use his gun as a fuck toy? Because between you and me- I feel like he wouldn’t be afraid to use it (unloaded) as a form of intimidation and I mean tbh it’s also kinda hot

This mafia!Steve is not. His gun serves only to take lives, he's not thrilled by the prospect of using it on you even in a sexual matter.

However, there will be a story about a certain mafia boss who is into gunplay (among other nasty kinks) ... 😈

#anonymous #reply #mafia!steve #nesting

[devynsshitposts]

i once read a dark mafia steve where he kidnaps the girl because she was “involved” with buckys kidnapping (she only handed someone a glass). she eventually develops stockholm syndrome. i can’t find it if y’all would help me that would be wonderful.

#mafia!steve #dark!steve #mafia!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #mob!steve rogers #mob!steve

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 16: DP in 1 hole - Mafia!Stucky

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

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

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

King of Hearts - a Mafia!Steve AU coming May 1st! (Featuring Mafia!Eddie)

Your father, head of one of the major crime ring families living in Chicago. Your husband, a marriage for alliance. You, an heiress to the proverbial throne caught in the middle. Time and distance never quell your feelings, only solidifying them once more when Steve Harrington makes his way back into town. Seemingly destined to be separated from the one man who has always held your heart, but Steve has his own agenda as he begins to set his plans into motion.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #king of hearts #mafia!steve harrington #eddie munson #mafia!eddie munson #KOH #KOH moodboard #steve x dove #little dove #mafia!steve #mafia!eddie

[veltana]

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

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

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You sound so fucking pretty."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia!steve rogers #protective!bucky barnes #protective!steve rogers #best friends to lovers #best friend!bucky #best friend!steve #veltana writes #mob!stucky x reader #mob!steve rogers #mob!bucky barnes #mob!steve x reader #mob!bucky x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers fic #bucky barnes fic

[neonovember]

Two Coffee’s

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics​ !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

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

It had been several weeks since you and Steve got into a routine, you would meet with him to discuss your husband, and he would be the omnipresent blanket of protection in the form of brooding men in dark cars stationed outside your apartment, the diner, your favourite coffee shop. His presence was present in every vessel and part of your life now, and it seems crazy that just 3 weeks ago you hadn't even down the man.

Now it was like he never left. Now it was like he was a part of your routine.

It’s that thought that lingers as you step outside the diner doors and into the chilly afternoon of the Brooklyn streets. With two cups of steaming coffee in hand, you march with a newfound determination towards the indiscreet black sedan that had been parked on the diner sidewalk since you walked through the doors that morning.

They may not speak to you directly, but you couldn’t find the heart to let them sit around for hours on end with nothing but the car heater and a carton of OJ. Especially against the winter breeze that felt like iced knives against your trembling skin.

You tap on the tinted glass gently, scrutinising the reflection that looked too exhausted and angry to really be you. There is a scuffle before the window is sliding until it reaches a quarter down. The man takes a moment to stare you down, hazel brown eyes with deep burly brows eyeing you before recognition clicks in him.

You’re Steves.

He looks at you expectedly, and you remember why you’re here in the first place, the borderline boiling coffee cups going unnoticed by your freezing hands.

You raise them up with a smile, and his eyes flicker to them. The man sitting in the driver's seat next to him bops his head as he catches your eye. Reaching across the brooding man whose stumbled jaw is currently working itself a beat, the man across from him with light eyes cracks an apologetic smile at his friend before accepting the coffee with a nod.

You don’t miss the bristled expression that adores the man as you hand his partner the drinks, all you can do is smile tightly before the window is sealed shut once again, and the only thing meeting your eyes is your reflection itself.

— -

“3 club sandwiches for table 18 hun, and ask if they'd like today’s apricot cobbler,” Caroline says in a rushed voice as she tied back the loose strands of hair escaping from a not-so-neat ponytail.

“You leaving already?” You reply mournfully, as you watch her sneak a few pastries into her duffel bag.

She whips her head up to look at you, her smile pulled down into a pouting frown

“Aww are you gonna mwiss me?” Caroline bubbles out in a screeching high baby voice.

“Ugh, you know I hate when you do that”

“Why do you think I do it” Caroline replies swiftly, wagging her eyebrows playfully

“Seriously though, I’m the only one on shift for the next” You pull up your sleeve to check your invisible watch “4 hours” You moan, following her as she rummages around the back kitchen searching for her phone charger.

A sound of trump escapes her throat as she eyes the hidden wire under a box of napkins

“No can do my beloved, Ron’s asked me over tonight. I think this time he's finally gonna give in” Caroline replies, as she looks over her shoulder smiling at me.

“You and that man. Jesus Caroline, you know it would be a bit easier to date someone..uh I don't know not married?” You gruff, shaking your head disapprovingly.

Caroline turn’s to you, rolling her eyes half-heartedly

“Not everyone can have Brooklyn's hottest mafia slash bachelor slash billionaire wrapped around our finger” Caroline replies, before laughing at your bugging eyes

I told you to keep that on the low dammit!” You hush at her with your hands, eyes searching the empty kitchen in case of eavesdroppers, or men donned in black. Either one scared the crap out of you.

“You know I would never tell a sole, these lips are sealed” Caroline replies, doing a zipping motion with her fingers

‘Yeah yeah, I do. I just wished you were here in case they- he shows up, you know?” You reply softly, gulping down the fear of even thinking of his name.

A look of recognition comes over Caroline’s features, before it is soon replaced with a fury that screams only fierce loyalty and bad decisions.

“Swear to god, if I ever see that man I’m putting a bullet through his skull” Caroline replies, her auburn brows furrowing with a look of determination that almost had you believing her.

“Mhm, with what? A silicon spatula?” You reply, eyebrows clocking up in disbelief, you used humour to mask all your emotions, not just the messed up ones.

“I was thinking a 47 Remington, maybe a shotgun! If I could just saw off the handle, I think it would look pretty good down his throat, don’t  you?” Caroline smiles with that innocent look, her eyes shining and her cheeks pushing out the dimples on her left side.

“I would pay to see that” You giggle, before pouting your face as she gathers her bag

“You have Hazel on shift don't ya?” She replies as she notices your kicked-dog expression

“Yeah, but she's as helpful as a sac of potatoes. Too busy talking to Daniel to be of any help” You sigh, swiping a hand across your forehead

At the mention of her name, your eyes watch the young waitress leaning over the kitchen counter, loud boisterous laughter leaving her red rubbery lips as she tries and fails to cover her mouth. Her nails are painted a mossy green but are chipped from her constant biting, and every step of hers jingles from the beady jewellery that adorns her neck and ears.

She had gotten the job in less than a day, and spent less time serving customers than she did suggesting songs for Daniel's busted speaker. The power of connections and a pretty face ran especially deep in the service industry.

Being the restaurant manager’s neice also helped.

Caroline turns to you, shaving her hands in your face to squeeze your cheeks

“Worrin’ will give you wrinkles. She’ll help if she knows you need it. Problem is you never ask don't you?” Caroline replies, unwrapping her apron from her waist and hanging it onto the encrusted wooden hooker.

There was truth to Caroline's words, no matter how much you despised them. All your life you had to rely on yourself, didn't matter if you were in the dusty cabin of your mother's home or the ceiling-high walls of your husband's manor. hell accepting even Steves's proposal felt like pulling teeth, despite every day prior wearing you thin with the lack of protection you held walking through the streets of Brooklyn. You'd taken to wearing a hood most days quicker than you did accept Steve's protection.

“Okay well, women in society have largely been told that they are not allowed to age, so guess my wording is really just a fuck you to the world”. You reply, following her out the back kitchen and down the coordinator to the front counter.

Caroline's laugh echoes through the diner, as she smiles across at you.

“There is hope for us yet” She grins, saying a quick bye to Daniel before slamming the diner door behind her.

Not before screaming out to the bustling street side

“Ya hear that world? Y/N says a big FUCK you” 

All you can do is smile brightly as the diner chimes jingle into the growing murmur of the Sunday lunch rush streaming from the diner booth surrounding you.

-- -

“When’s the last time you got laid, Steve?” Rumlows voice echoes in the large office, it's like sandpaper, that voice of his, and it irritates the raging headache pressing against Steve’s temple.

Steve scoffs back a disgruntled noise, shaking his head before flicking through the folded stack of papers left on his desk that morning.

“No, I mean it, they’re usually a sea of women that leave your floor, what happened?” Rumlow edges him, those busy eyebrows rising up in expectation, his bulky frame sitting hunched on the velvet chair across Steve’s.

Steve’s eyes flicker across to Rumlow, searching his face before drifting down to catch the seared tattoo peaking from his rolled sleeve. Rumlow had once been integrated into one of New York's more violent and unstable crime syndicates, the kind that dealt with human trafficking and selling girls like fucking stables.

Steve was already weary of his often violent and ill-tempered mood, the kind that ended up boiling into violent outbursts. But he needed men at the time, and Rumlow was like a trained dog, so he bit back his resignation and enveloped him into the family.

Oh, how he grew to regret it.

“I’m busy, alright, gotta keep fucking Brooklyn from sinking” Steve replies without looking up from his work, swift signature flying over the dotted lines of dock payments and shipments from Budapest.

Rumlow hums, folding his arms across his chest thoughtfully, his eyes linger on Steve’s, analysing him carefully.

“You’re fucking her aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“That girl you’ve got us looking after, a goddamn wife, you know what he’ll do to us if he finds out we’ve got his little wife knee-deep in our shit?” Rumlow spits out, venom lacing his tone as his eyes glint with a certain fire.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Steve’s voice bellow from deep within his chest, but his face is unmoving, his features set in stone that refused to wither into clay.

“C'mon Steve, I know she’s a fine piece of ass but is she really that fucking worth it? I mean you’re putting a lot on stake for some tits-“. Before Rumlow can finish his sentence, a loud crunch envelops the room, Steve's fist flying into Rumlows mouth as he shatters his face.

The immediate scream of pain and anguish fills the room, as blood begins squirting out of  Rumlows nose, spilling down his white shirt and staining it further, Steve has to restrain himself from killing the man for the way he talked about you.

The sound of Rumlows wheezing whimpers is drowned out by the loud stomps of boots against the hallway floors. The door opens with a thunk, slamming into the wall behind it before Bucky steps into the bloodied scene of Steve’s office.

“Fuck sake Steve” Bucky grunts, as his eyes reach Rumlows crouched position on the floor, holding a hand to his nose to try and seize the blood oozing from the imprint of Steve’s fist.

“Clean that shit up” Steve replies before wiping away the blood off his knuckles with a cloth towel, throwing it towards Rumlow.

“You don’t ever speak to her that way alright? Let this be a warning to all of you, what’s my business with her is just that, my own” Steve snarks, flicking off the splatters of blood that landed on his cufflinks.

Rumlow shuffles awkwardly, reaching for the rag with a blind hand before limping out of the office, his dignity and ego left in the pool of blood staining the plush carpet.

Bucky steps closer, his hands shoved into his pocket as he stares unblinking at the stained carpet.

Steve looks towards him, muttering profanities under his breath as he smooths out the wrinkles in his suit.

“What?” Steve asks Bucky, watching on as his closest friend refuses to meet his eye.

“When you have us shuffle in on rotation to watch her like some fucking fast food gig, you don’t think they’ll be asking questions??” Bucky murmurs

“That isn’t why I asked you to watch her now, is it? They're my closest men-you’re my closest man, and you want to question me? Bucky when have I ever done anything stupid? Huh?” Steve replies, eyes searching through the disappointment that covers Bucky’s face.

“Never, but I think you’re about to start now” Bucky replies, anger lacing his tone as he moves out of the room.

As much as it pained him to admit it, there was truth to Rumlow’s words, Steve had made a name for himself as a notorious bachelor who never slept with the same girl twice. He found a certain addiction in the debauchery of sex, but it was never love. Steve fucked because he liked to hear the sound of his name screamed into the city skies, watching the women he’d bring home unravel before him.

Now though, Steve has to take a moment to consider that his bed was left cold through most nights, the mantel and throne of the mafia king consuming him.

-- -

Pushing through the swinging doors of the diner restrooms, you cough out a gag as you breathe a lungful of air sharply. The diner's bathrooms were usually a mess by the time you closed your doors but god did it seem so much worse today.

Your eyes survey the diner for the crowds of patrons that usually occupied the leather booths but find them empty instead, a few drizzled customers sipping a coffee before folding their newspapers and making their way out.

The sun had dipped into the horizon soon after you had walked through the bathroom stalls, but the winter months caused the night to come quicker than ever, basking the outside with a darkness you can't help but shudder against.

Collecting the diner menus, you shove them into the shelving compartment situated near the doors, and as you reach for a washcloth a sudden feeling of eyes searing holes into your back envelops your senses. It feels like you’re being watched, and it feels like you're just now noticing, the suddenly ominous atmosphere created by the foggy darkness outside causing you to gulp. You crane your neck slowly to search for those pair of eyes, but all you can see is your manager’s head bobbing up from the diner counter.

She gestures with a nod for you to come over, and you discard the washcloth on the table before meeting her eyes.

‘I’m going to head out, just serve the last few customers and lock up for me.” Mare replies, wiping a hadn't across her face as she slings a bag across her back.

“Where did Hazel go?” You reply as you notice her absence from the kitchen

“Oh, she had to attend this party or something so I gave her the rest of the night off” Mare replies nonchalantly.

You have to dig your diners into your thigh to stop from throwing a sharp remark. You had to beg Mare to let you stay home after you’d got that flu going around the city, and even then you had to make it up in overtime. And now she was leaving you to clean up the diner all on your own, so much for a positive working environment.

You think about stealing from the register just to spite her, but you know she would find out either way and then you'd be rotting in a jail cell with an officer calling for your husband to come to pick you up and throw you back into your other living hell.

So you bite your tongue and bid her farewell as she exited the diner without a second look.

You register her words soon after, customers? But you had sworn all of them had filed out hours ago. It’s then that you noticed the hunched figure almost lying over the diner counters, and you move swiftly to reach his stool.

The man from before is perched on one of the diner stools, his grip pressing into the counter until his hands were knuckle white. A stringy black wooden jacket now adores his body, a stark difference from the deep coal black of his tailored suit in that car hours ago. It obscures half his face, scrunched up to cover his nose and mouth.

His eyes dart across the now empty diner booths, ears catching every sound like a hawk, the scar stretching across his face like a white hand pinched and relaxed with every turn of his head. 

He’s hiding from something that you know, but you also know he isn't a man to particularly be afraid of getting caught.

Stepping towards him with a tentative shuffle of your feet, you grip your notepad tight around your hand, a tight smile gracing your features as he slowly rises his head from your scuffled converse to meet your eyes.

“What can- what can I get you?” You gulp down the nervousness from your voice, there’s nothing to be afraid of. He wouldn't hurt you- he can’t, Steve had promised. And you don't know why but you take it his word is as good as gold.

“Just a coffee honey, just like the one from before” The man replies, a dead look in his eyes as you note down his order.

“Nothing to eat? I can’t promise you a fresh meal, but we’ve got a few sandwiches I could heat up for you” You reply, you ask just because it's customary, but god you wished he could be out any sooner.

“Haven’t got the appetite ‘m afraid” The man replies, a smile cracks over the ice of his features, that same jagged white scar folding across his face. There's a glint in his eyes that shine against the diner's fluorescent lights, like he knows something you don’t and it scares you to no end.

You nod slowly, before quickly shuffling your body to get behind the kitchen counter. Reaching for a clean ceramic mug, you make quick work of pouring a fresh batch of espresso into the mug, the black liquid swirls like a whirlpool, steam rising from the cup so you have to carry it gently towards his seat. You feel his eyes on you the entire time, and your hands shake a little as you place it out in front of him.

“Anything else?” You say, rocking on the ball of your feet as you watch him carefully.

“I’m all set, thank you” The man smiles up at you, and your eyes furrow at the disingenuous smile that fits all too big on his face, its almost disprorpoatnte like a Halloween mask, all white teeth and dead eyes.

“I would appreciate it if you could join me, however..?” The man adds, eyes meeting yours that burn into you intensely, he still wears that same Cheshire smile, but his eyes, his eyes almost challenge you to say no. To see what would become of you if you did.

“Uhm..I’m on the clock, can’t be chattin’ when I'm meant to be..” You reply, trying to find the right words to say.

“Serving..customers?” The man clocks his eyebrow, turning around to gesture to the empty diner.

“There hasn't been a soul hat walked through those doors ever since you took your little bathroom break honey, so how about you make my crap day just a little brighter by sittin’ with me?” The man frames his proposal like a question, but you know the way he grips the counter tight that he means it as a command.

There is a beat of silence, of you just staring at him, trying to conceal your growing fear before your eyes dart to the diner doors. He catches your eye line, and coughs out a wheezing chuckle, clocking his head to the side.

“You aren’t that dumb, are you?” The man replies in a condescending tone, and you let your failure weigh down your shoulders.

“Follow me” The man replies with a smile, gathering his coffee mug with one hand before pressing the other to the small of your back, causing you to shudder unconsciously. He leads you to one of the booths hidden away from the door, and you sit with your back straight as he leans onto the booth table.

The silence between you both is filled soon with his hurried gulps of coffee, slamming it to the booth table and causing a crack to form like a lightning bolt through the ceramic mug. The violence causes you to finch, and he looks up at you with a grin.

And within a second, the man is quickly unmasking his hoodie from his face, and the scene that confronts you causes a sickening nausea to rise up your throat. The man’s face, which had been obscured by the hoodie earlier, now bears violent bruises and cuts that burst from his nose and jaw like flowers. They glint against the diner booths overhanging light, fresh and still swollen since the object or thing had cracked against his face.

The man grunts at your disturbed expression, slamming a hand down onto the diner counter that causes you to flinch.

“Your fucking protector gave me this, did you know that?” The man snarks with disgust, you're too afraid to meet his eyes but you take in his words slowly.

Your protector? Huh? No… he doesn’t mean-wait

Steve did this?

You can’t dwell on that realisation before the man is rambling to you angrily again

“And for what? You aren’t shit to me, to any of us, and frankly, we’re getting tired of watching your ass mop and clean after fucking truckers and shit. I used to take down fucking men, and I’m here babysitting. I think it’s about time to put out, alright?” He replies a knowing expression across his face that is soon morphed into amusement as he registers your confused expression.

“I mean you do know that’s why he keeps you? Wants to train you to be his little wife like you once were to little old Richerson’s. Or did you think we’d forget about your husband who’s hunting you down hm? Who’s probably going to throw my ass in the Hudson with a missing foot for even talking to you?”

You bristle at the mention of your husband's name, shaking your head as you press your fingertip to your squeezed eyes until you see stars.

No, no no. This was all wrong. Steve said he’d protect you, he had said that. He promised it like his life depended on it, but the truth was, yours did. And now, now he confuses you, your temples start to throb as a headache sets in as it does since that night when you think too hard or try to remember anything from before. Before your husband, before New York, before this very diner booth.

Did Steve really expect you to be some sit-in wife for him? Jump from one prison into another to finally be the last chest piece of his kingdom? You feel sick at the thought, the nausea burning your stomach as you press a hand to your mouth.

“You seriously didn't think you were anything else did you? Women can't be in this world unless they're whores or wives. That’s how it's always been and always will be. Don’t ever think otherwise, or soon you'll just be another fucking useless whore lying fast down in an alleyway” The man grunts, before pushing the cracked coffee mug towards you before rising from his seat, reaching into his pocket to throw a few scrunched bills at you.

“Clean this shit up, and I suggest you start putting out and doing it fast” The man replies, looking down at you before reaching for your chin, raising your face to meet his eyes.

He ticks at the tremble of your lips as you gulp down the nausea and fear still bubbling deep inside you.

“It's a shame really, that such a pretty face goes out like this, you see I didn't want to be the one to tell you this, but he gave me no choice.” The man sighs sadly as if it was the world's burden to carry that information.

“Reckon you could’ve been something if Richardson had not snatched you up like he did all those years ago. Funny how life works though isn't it? Used to be living in tower high walls and now you're scrubbing a dirty restaurant floor”. The man replies softly, yet the words spit out of him like blood, insincerity written all over his face that told you he didn’t feel bad. Not one bit. In Fact, he probably enjoyed it.

He lets go of your chin with a shove, before his loud boots stomp against the linoleum floors, slamming the diner doors behind him with a bang, and leaving you to drown in the ever-growing lies the people you’ve trusted have suffocated you in.

#Steven Grant Rogers #Steve Rogers fic #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #mob!steve x reader #mob!steve #mob steve rogers #mob!au #mafia!steve rogers #mafia!au #mafia!steve rogers x reader #mafia!steve #mafia!steve rogers x fem!reader #mafia!steve rogers x black reader #mob!steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers x fem!reader #mob!Steve Rogers x black reader #steve rogers x reader #mob!Steve Rogers x black!reader #marvel fic #series #steve rogers series #steve rogers mafia series #steve rogers x woc!reader #mafia!steve rogers x woc!reader #steve rogers reader insert #mob boss!steve #avengers x mafia!au #mafia!bucky #steve rogers x black!reader

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal masterlist

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

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

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

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

Indecent Proposal (1)

Indecent Proposal (2)

Indecent Proposal (3)

Indecent Proposal (4)

Indecent Proposal (5)

Indecent Proposal (6)

Indecent Proposal (7)

Indecent Proposal (8)💦

Indecent Proposal (8.2) 💦

Indecent Proposal (9) 💦

Indecent Proposal (9.2)

Indecent Proposal (10) 💦

Indecent Proposal (11) 💦

Indecent Proposal (12)

Indecent Proposal (12.2)

Indecent Proposal (13)

Indecent Proposal (14)

Indecent Proposal (15)

Indecent Proposal (15.2)

Indecent Proposal (16)

Indecent Proposal (17)

Indecent Proposal (17.2)

Indecent Proposal (18)

Indecent Proposal (19)

Indecent Proposal (20)

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

[emchant3d]

little blurb based off my son of the mafia Steve au - posted this on twt this morning and I want it over here too 🥰 I literally only have this and one other little bit written idk what this will turn out to be but have it anyway!!

Steve’s a morning person. Eddie is decidedly not. And yeah, Steve loves staying in bed with him, but the curtains in Eddie’s room are thin and the sun is cutting right across his eyes in a way that he can’t ignore, so he carefully extracts himself from the bed. It’s a delicate process, gently taking Eddie by the wrist to move his arm from around Steve’s waist, moving slowly to not jostle the mattress and startle his love awake.

Steve's making breakfast when he hears a shuffle of feet behind him. He turns, giving Wayne a little smile. "Morning, Mr. Munson," he says, nodding towards the coffee pot and looking back to the stove. "Coffee's made."

Wayne gives a thankful little hum, and moves in silence, the only sound the soft splash of black coffee hitting a ceramic mug and a slow sip.

He can feel Wayne's eyes on his back. He flips the bacon, poking it gently with the spatula, and he waits.

"I like you, Steve," Wayne eventually says. His voice is gruff and slow, and Steve smiles at him over his shoulder, knowing what's coming next. "But," and there it is. 

Steve straightens, turning to face him and rolling his shoulders back. "I don't know how good you are for Eddie. He's been through a lot, son. And you...well. We're not gonna stand here and act like you and your family don't come with a whole world of baggage." Steve hums his agreement.

"You're right," he says, nodding. "But which side of my family is the problem?" Wayne's jaw twitches.

"Ed's got enough experience with breakin' the law for a lifetime," he bites out, and that's an answer in and of itself. Steve smiles again, formal, small.

"I'm not involved in my grandfather's family business," he says, rote and regular, the same line he's been taught to use since he was a child.

"Don't give me that shit, boy." He points at him, mouth set in an angry frown. "You think I don't know your mama? You think I didn't see you runnin' round with your cousins when they'd visit?"

The eggs need to be flipped. He turns back to the stove, grabbing the spatula and keeping his eyes on the food as he takes a moment to think.

"I understand your concern," he says evenly, and Wayne scoffs behind him. "But I promise you, Mr. Munson," he picks up a plate, sliding two fried eggs onto it and adding a healthy serving of fried potatoes, "I won't let anything happen to him." He turns, meeting Wayne's gaze and handing him the plate.  

Wayne stares him down, silent. His eyes pinch, and he swallows hard. "How can you promise that?" he asks, and Steve's smile goes sharp.

"In my experience, it's best to not ask questions you don't want an answer to."

His eyes flick up when he catches a bit of movement, and he smiles as Eddie shuffles into the kitchen. "Morning, baby," he says, and Eddie grumbles at him, side-steps Wayne to worm his way into Steve's arms. Steve laughs and gives him a gentle squeeze, kissing his bedhead.

"Sit at the table," he murmurs into his hair, "I'll make you a plate." 

"Coffee," Eddie demands, and Steve's smile widens.

"Coming right up."

"Kiss," he demands next, and Steve beams at him, gently lifting Eddie's chin to press a soft kiss to his mouth. He lingers for just a moment, giving a gentle bite to Eddie's lower lip and feeling Eddie smile into it. 

He pulls away then, sleep-rumpled and gorgeous, and Steve flicks his eyes to Wayne, gauging his expression.

He doesn't look happy. Eddie's too tired to notice, though, and soon the two of them are talking quietly at the table while Steve fixes Eddie's coffee the way he likes and fries two sunny side up eggs.

Wayne doesn't like Steve, and that's fine. He doesn't blame him, not a bit. He understands.

He sets the plate in front of Eddie, brings the coffee pot to top off Wayne's mug, and knows regardless of how Wayne feels, he isn't going anywhere. Not unless Eddie asks.

And he's going to make damn sure that Eddie never asks.

#steddie #mafia son steve #steve & wayne #based on the idea that wayne does NOT want eddie involved with steve #wayne likes him well enough but that doesn't mean he wants eddie tangled up in whatever the harrington boy and his mom have going on

[biteofcherry]

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."

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #mafia!Steve Rogers #mafia!steve x reader #mafia steve rogers #mob boss steve rogers #steve rogers x you #nesting #steve rogers smut

[barneswinchester]

MCU Masterlist III

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

mcu masterlist I

mcu masterlist II

Bucky Barnes

SMUT 👅

drabble

look at me

bad date

welcome back

ride

on his knees

wake up bj

a taste of submission

a good plowin

bliss

printesa mea

somnophilia

languages of love

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

protective

purgatory

grouch

his safe place

night terrors

my babydoll

sensitive

safe with me

Steve Rogers

SMUT 👅

the game

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

my love is winter

the game

every step of the way

Stucky

SMUT 👅

feral

heat of the moment

a sweet treat

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

initials

I'm pregnant, not dying

brave new world

happy ending

last hope part two

Andy Barber

SMUT 👅

anonymous

Ari Levinson

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

you said I was your favourite

SMUT 👅

forget everything

Loki

FLUFF & ANGST 🤍

bad dreams

Lee Bodecker

SMUT 👅

persuasion

#marvel #marvel masterlist #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #beefy!bucky #mob!bucky #mafia!bucky #protective!bucky #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #mafia!steve rogers #lee bodecker x reader #loki x reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #andy barber fluff #ari levison x reader #ari levinson smut