Everyone's had a difficult day, so the only fair thing to do is let everyone watch.
Warnings: 18+ exhibitionism, voyeurism, public setting (as in, everyone is here), pussy spanking, butt plug mention, masturbation, forced masturbation, humiliation, praise. Mentions of previous adventures including cum play and dp.
HBS Week 5 - “Play with it.” | [Cock Worship | Forced Masturbation | Come Play] @buckybarnesevents
@ramp-it-up 5K Praise Challenge - "You're such a good girl, aren't you? Always so obedient for me."
@avengers-assemble-bingo - fingering
Masterlist | Mob Rules AU | Hot Bucky Summer | Kink Bingo | Bucky Barnes
"Good afternoon, Bambi." Bucky smiled as you sauntered down the marble length of the conference room. You were sure it must've been sold as a 'dining room', but for you, Bucky, Steve and the rest of their organisation it was where deals were made and scores settled.
"Hi Sarge, Ari and Thor said you wanted me?"
Your two bodyguards followed in your wake, not disguising the hungry look in their eyes as your hips swayed underneath the short baby doll dress you'd chosen for the afternoon.
As you made your way down the table you felt the eyes of the others rove over you, up your legs from your heels to your hem line, the odd hand brushed against you as you passed by, flicking your skirt up a little, squeezing your leg.
"We thought we could use a little… entertainment, now that new assignments have been given out." Steve smiled too, holding his hand out for you to come and rest between him and Bucky at the head of the table.
There were no papers or memos on the table, not even a laptop or a phone, all instructions were verbal and your knew they expected every plan to be followed to the letter. That's why they rewarded the crew so highly.
Steve stood from his chair, the back taller and seat more plush than the others, and Bucky took your hand urging you to sit down, the chair was as comfortable as it looked. You always thought of it as a throne a place for Bucky and Steve to rule from, and you had never been allowed to sit in it before. Nerves ran up your spine. The entire request felt unprecedented.
Normally you were either perched on the arm of the chair, in someone's lap or, if you'd been either very very good or very very naughty — under the table.
"Comfortable?" Bucky asked, his voice dropping low.
"Yes, Sarge." You let your eyelashes flutter a little more than they naturally would, playing into his hands.
"And if I flip up this pretty dress of yours, will I be happy or angry?" Bucky ran his fingers under the hem of the dress and your skin lit up with the sensation, legs falling open slightly.
"Oh, very happy, Sarge." You cooed, spreading your legs wider for his exploring hands.
Bucky's fingers brushed against your skin, the shine of his rings in contrast to the tattoos that swirled down his left arm. They were half-hidden under his white shirt, rolled up to his elbow as if the handing out of tasks had been a physical labour as well as a mental one.
He flipped your skirt higher, revealling your bare cunt to the room. You knew better than to wear underwear with your clothes and you were especially glad you hadn't risked it today in front of everyone.
"Are you happy, Sarge?" You asked, sweetly, biting the tip of your finger.
"Very," he groaned back. "You're such a good girl, aren't you? Always so obedient for me."
You nodded happily, "always, Sarge." You kept your eyes trained on his, clear and frosty blue, but you knew that everyone else was looking at you, the way your pussy was getting wet, the little jewel nestled between your ass cheeks.
Bucky slapped his hand against your pussy, "and she's always a good girl too, right?"
"Yes, Sarge." You agreed again.
"Good, because we all want some entertainment tonight —"
Nerves shot through you, everyone you didn't think you'd survive that.
"—and as we couldn't decide who got the pleasure we thought it was only fair, that it was you."
"What?"
Steve reached around the back of your chair to spank your pussy again. "Excuse me?"
"Sorry, Cap, I mean, pardon, Sarge?"
"Better." Steve said, returning to his position behind the chair, arms crossed on the back so he could see the curves of your body better.
"You'll be the one getting pleasure." Bucky repeated, taking one of your legs while Steve held the other, carefully placing them over the arms of the chair.
You slumped down a little at the position, trying to stay upright.
"Now, as your little pussy is so well behaved, we want you to play with it."
You skin prickled with heat, you were very much up for anything, that was why you got on so well in Steve and Bucky's home, but you'd never been so exposed in front of everyone before.
"Uhh —"
"Don't be shy now," Bucky cupped your cheek, "you're our little slut, remember, we know you, there's no judgement here, we just want to watch you fall apart, don't we deserve that?"
You looked around at each eager face, eyes wide with nerves. They did know you, but it didn't make it any less awkward to pleasure just yourself in front of them.
"Come on now," Steve took your hands in his, covering your fingers, and guided them between your legs. Together you gently massaged your pussy, slipping your thumbs into you folds.
"Good girl," Bucky sat back in his chair, smirking, and motioned for Steve to step away.
It was only a nod of his head, but Steve and Bucky were so in tune with each other it didn't matter what was said, they always knew, and Bucky was always calling the shots behind the scenes.
You were left with your wet fingers, glistening with arousal, spreading the lips of your cunt for everyone to see.
Thor and Ari kept a close eye on you, ever the body guards, but their eyes were trained between your legs.
Even the newer members of the team were shamelessly staring.
"Sarge," you mewled, letting your head fall to one side and making your saddest puppy dog eyes at Bucky, "please."
"Please, what, Bambi?" He growled back, ignoring your face in favour of watching your hands.
"Please, I can't."
He reached his hand over and you instinctively moved yours to allow him access, hoping he'd push them inside so you could feel the cold metal of his rings against your clit and the rough pads of his callouses on your g-spot.
But no such luck, he brought his hand down roughly between your legs and you cried out.
"If I tell you to fuck yourself, Bambi, you'll fuck yourself. Now. Be a good girl, cum for everyone to see."
Bucky took your hands and placed them back between your legs.
"No more messing about, I want to see at least two of your fingers stuffed in your slutty little cunt."
You obeyed with shaking hands, using your left to expose your clit slightly, you pushed two fingers into your waiting hole. It felt so good. Your knees bent in slightly, your body eager for more but already over stimulated from a days work and the thought of your filthy predicament.
Bucky nodded at your bodyguards and Thor and Ari appeared on either side of the chair, taking an ankle each and holding your legs open.
"Oh god," instead of looking you squeezed your eyes closed, stage fright getting the better of you. With your eyes closed you could smell the mingled scent of Bucky, Steve, Thor and Ari's colognes, each distinct and tantalising in their own right, but knowing they were stood so close to you made your pussy flood.
"Wow." Joaquin's voice floated from the side of the room and you recalled your evening spent by the pool with him just a few days earlier. Pressing your fingers deeper you remembered the feel of his cock pulsing against your g-spot.
"Good girl, we can see how much you want it, Bambi, don't be shy." Bucky's voice was low in your ear, accompanied by an involuntary squeeze of your thigh from Thor.
You could feel the specific pattern of callouses that formed on his fingers and palm from his preferred weapon of choice, a large hammer. But you also knew him to be fun and loving and gentle and …creative. The plug snuggled beneath you, heavy and warm, had been his idea and it was only a few weeks ago he'd had Steve and Bucky take it in turns to fill you up before plugging you again.
Your walls twitched around your fingers, squeezing down, and you slipped a third between your folds, your palm rubbing against your clit as you remembered your time in the back of the car.
"You look gorgeous like this, our little slut." Loki's voice was a low purr, prowling down the table from where he sat by the door, and suddenly the plug made you think of his cock, deep and searching inside of you as he took he roughly, not even caring that you were already with Joaquin.
"Sarge—" you gasped desperately, your free hand flying out to grab onto anything, anyone, to ground you as the tight coil of your release wound inside of you.
Bucky took your hand, placing it over the hard bulge in his suit trousers, "feel what you do to me, Bambi." He growled, "look, what you do to me."
Your eyes fluttered open to look at him, his hair curling at his nape, his face flushed.
"Look at what you do to us." Steve caught your chin between his fingers, tipping your head up.
Instantly your eyes caught on Sergei and Frank, sat either side of Loki at the other end of the table. Their jaws clenched, Sergei had his hands clasped on the table in front of him, Frank had his behind his head, knuckles white as he restrained himself.
Natasha, and then Wanda, sat beside Frank. Both women looked flushed too, their chests pink. Wanda's eyes were glazed as she stared down the table.
Nick and Max sat on Sergei's side, faces as unreadable as always when you bit your lip and made eye contact with them.
Beside Nick, Sam was breathing deeply having shoved Joaquin backwards away from the table to get a better look at you.
Val sat beside Steve's chair, her white shirt cuffs immaculate, but her fingers were pressed into each arm so hard you could see indents in the thickly starched fabric of her suit jacket.
They were hanging off your every movement, each mewl that left your lips had them gasping, gripping their chairs, tugging at their clothes — but no one touched themselves. Only you.
Your fingers pressed deeper, harder, rubbing against the spot inside of you that had you seeing stars and gasping out.
"Our good little Bambi," Bucky reached out and touched you again, a soft hand that brushed down your cheek, and you turned into the feeling, practically purring from the attention. "And now, Bambi, you're going to come in front of everyone."
Embarrassment flared low in your stomach again, mixing with the deep heat of your arousal, your need too release this pent up feeling.
"I don't know —"
"You can and you will." Bucky insisted, keeping his eyes fixed on yours.
It was easier to concentrate on him than to worry about what the rest of the room could see. His blue eyes were a mere ring around the pool of his pupil, as wide as possible, taking in every inch of you.
"Come, now, Bambi, let it all go for us. Show us that cute face you make, those sweet little noises."
You were trying desperately not to make a face or a noise now, too self conscious to truly let go.
"Show us, Bambi, we want to see your beautiful face." Steve whispered in your ear, tickling the delicate skin.
"Listen to Cap, hmm? Come on those fingers for us."
It was all too much, with a last press of your fingers you squeezed your eyes shut and let go, allowing the tightness in your belly to release, your muscles relaxing, a long, drawn out moan, reverberating around the otherwise silent board room. Your fingers were wetter than before, your cum coating them.
Slowly you opened your eyes, to find only Bucky in front of you, blocking everyone else from view. He tipped your chin up gently, a tattooed hand cupping the back of your head as he kissed you, the taste of your arousal on his tongue.
summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.
a/n: never stopped thinking about this series! it has been over a year since like last update but I'm finally starting to fall back into it. this chapter is definitely a mouthful, and hopefully clear up some things about the reader. (and anyone still reading this story..thank you.)
divider by @firefly-graphics !
Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)
The soft rush of the diner during midday rings familiar to your bones. The squeak of your fading sneakers against the linoleum floors, the fast paced beats coming from Frank's speaker, the chatter and noise of patrons-the ring of the door that still quickens your heart.
Things have changed however, when you had pushed through the back door into the small break room to shove your things in the rusting metal locker you feel it.
There was less of the rushed movements and haggard sighs from your coworkers, the burnout that could only ever be outlined in your features when you live paycheck to paycheck. The air of the diner had been filled with the frustration of working under a boss who’s greed and incompetence left most new hires to leave the next day.
A boss who now is manning the register, boredom outlined through her features as she lists the specials on display in the glass of the diner shelves. And it seems this change has not come gradual, as Clementine rushes into the breakroom, her face twisted in glee.
“Oh you’re finally back!” She grins.
Clementine doesn't wait before wrapping her hands around your midsection, bringing you tight against her chest as she squeezes you enough to rattle the emptiness of your chest.
The unexpected embrace leaves your arms limp at your sides that Clementine ignores, her warmth enough for the both of you.
It takes a moment after she pulls away, for you to blink back the bitter taste of the years that had gone by without a warmth like this and refocus your eyes on her.
Her face is animated as she rambles, her words getting caught here in there, rushed and jumbled as they try and escape her throat all at once.
“Hey hey, Clem. slow down” You chuckle, shaking your head when she nods quickly and takes a breath.
“You saw it right?” Clementine says after catching her breathe
“Saw what?”
“Mare?”
“Oh. At the register huh? I thought I walked into the wrong restaurant. Some place with benefits and annual leave” You joke, as Clemetine shakes her head.
“You’ve missed out on a lot. She’s been..around more, and not in the usual domineering over your shoulder kind of way. A couple days ago something just shifted, she just shows up one day without a smoke in her mouth and wearing fuckin’ work safe boots and takes over Ellis at the counter” Clem eyes widen, the swear coming out a little clunky. Like the profanity was the only way to emphasize how unnatural it was.
And it was, Mare had never once stepped past the laminate flooring that separated the office and the stained yellowed concrete that outlined the entirety of the diner. Yet now she was falling back to tier one of food service?
“What do you think made her suddenly start..workin’ again” You reply, straining your voice to sound curious.
You weren't stupid, you knew managers like Mae didn't suddenly develop altruism overnight. You grind your jaw in frustration when the familiar feeling of Steve nudges at your mind.
“Don’t know, maybe someone called HR or something? She seemed a little shaken up when she came in that day too” Clem shakes her head as if pushing away a thought.
“But I'm not one to kick a gift horse in the balls. It’s about time we got something good hm? After what we had to suffer with for months, I’m glad to say my belief in a higher power is restored once again” Clemeinte muses, tying her hair into a tight bun before sweeping back the flyaways.
“You have got to know that doesn’t sound right Clem. Besides, doesn't it feel..” You murmur, scratching at your elbow nervously.
“What?”
“Like wrong? Something scared her enough to-”
“To actually work? To take care of the people she pays? How long have we wished for something like this..to actually be treated with some dignity and respect. In a city like this it's easy for people like us to just be thrown away and replaced. Someone out there cares, honey, actually cares. Can’t you see that?” Clem replies, a hopeful glint in her eyes as she looks towards you.
It takes all of you not to prod further, nodding with a thin smile at the way her body buzzes with the change. It’s different and it takes you a moment to recognize it for what it is, hope. Clementine was good, too good for this city. She made peace with this abruptness the only way she could, it wasn’t her fault Steve had slunk his way into your life like peated sludge.
You wouldn't be the one to take that away from her.
You swallow the heavy weight of Steve in your mind. You’ve grown familiar-it was strange how he had not even existed to you weeks before, and now, now it felt his presence followed you everywhere.
She was right, as much as you hated the feeling of being watched and looked over, Steve was the only one to genuinely make a difference in this place. Your mind twists with conflicting feelings of being grateful that Steve helped out Clem and your diner, and the uncomfortable all consuming presence he had.
She reaches for your hand, and you quell her awaiting gaze with a squeeze of it. Moving to dab a bit of lip balm onto your lips before moving past the swinging doors into the awaiting bustle of the diner.
The rush of orders, customers and Frank's loud barrelling voice shouting out profanities numbs your mind to the thoughts that haven't stopped bludgeoning your mind. The gut lurching nausea of your husband and Rumlow hadn't left though, slinking to the back, dormant and waiting.
You wait a lot these days. And it tears at you all the same.
You crave to forget, forget about what you had done, forget that you were never going to have a piece of a life that was yours. But you settle for the afternoon rush of school kids and construction workers who leave equal amounts of mess, noise and spillage as they leave.
You’re wiping down a table in the back corner of the diner, dipping your washcloth in the lukewarm murky water as you slide the cloth over condiment and soda stains. You press your elbow into it, humming gently as you give yourself a moment of reprieve, content to the detachment of service work.
Crawling onto the diner couches, you reach from pieces of napkins and straw covers when you spot the stiff leather of new boots that haven’t yet been broken in. Mare waits for you to raise your head, moving from the seat to stand across from her.
When your eyes glide up to meet her gaze you let out a breath at the face looking back at you. Deep indented circles line her under eyes, her hair falling out of the rushed pigtail behind her, her lips are thin pulled into a permanent grimace.
In all your time here, which wasn’t long by any measure, you had never seen her like this. Mirroring the same hunched exhaustion Clementine, Frank and you had.
But her eyes, her eyes twitch as they barely meet your own. Tiredness edged into the faded colour of them, but that isn’t what she comes to you with. Her eyes dart behind you, past the rows of booths to the frosted windows that blurred waves of foot traffic and the city above.
You knew that look-you lived it-the nervousness that pulls at your fingertips, the checking and the surveying.
The wait
She was scared, the familiar paranoia is leaking from her into the linoleum floors as your gaze widens. Had Steve done that? Whispered into her ear in that voice of his, heady like molasses and terrifying.
“Mare?” You mumble, stepping forward to try and close the gap between you two.
Her mouth opens and closes, tongue curved like she was about to say something, your eyes flicker to the shake in her hand that has you reaching for it. She flinches, pulling away as she straightens her back, the look of trepidation falls from her face as she swallows.
“I wouldn’t be asking you this if there was no one else. I know- I know I said that before, and thank you for coming in” She replies
You furrow your eyebrows, taken back by her apology, you felt the vibration of the strings that moved her mouth in her words.
Beginning to shake your head, the tip of Steve's name leaves your mouth before she shakes her head and you nod slowly.
“You need me to close up?” You reply instead
Her eyes brighten, nearly jumping at the request before she folds into herself again.
“You don’t have to, I can catch the later train” Mare begins before you let out a sound of disapproval.
“You’ve been here since opening, I got it.” You quickly fill
Relief floods through her, eyebrows smoothing as her shoulders slump back.
“But..”
“I want to, I need the distraction. I’ll tell him that” You whisper the last part, hand on her arm. Her eyes fall to your fingers, but she doesn't pull away this time. Nodding softly before murmuring where the diner keys are and the last of the deliveries that needed to be put away.
The sun dips into the honeyes horizon as the hours tick by, you give one last nod to Mare as she hesitates before leaving through the back door. Frankie is in the back, sweeping up the last few potato peels and scraps off the greased floor.
Crouching as you place the last few specials into the white bleached box, you hear Frankie and Clem weave through the restaurant to find you. You turn as you catch them, wiping flakes of pastry from your fingers.
“Get home safe” You motion to the inky darkness that blanketed the city now.
“Don’t worry, Frankie’s walking me to the train” Clem replies, readjusting her bag on her shoulder as he grins beside her.
“Left you a sandwich in the back. Running around all day I know you haven't eaten” Frankie throws a thumb to the kitchen. Your stomach grumbles audibly at the mention, as you wince as he laughs.
You smile then, a real one. You let Clem press you into the second hug today, this one tighter than the last that has you letting your body fall into it.
“Don’t work too hard, some stains never come off” Clementine mumbles, and you blink at her words. If only she knew.
You wave your goodbyes, as they exit through the front doors, locking it up after them.
The list of all the things you needed to do before closing shop ring familiar in your mind. It provides a healthy distraction from the darkness outside as you sweep, mop and count the last of the change that clings back into the register.
You feel him before you hear the leisured foot falls of his shoes, no doubt shining brightly against the stained floors despite the yellow hue of the lights above. The hairs on your back stand, and you swallow forcibly when he taps against the door methodically.
You pause for a moment, before turning around from the safety deposit box the envelopes of the day’s cash was stored.
The office is already too small, cramped in it’s walls and the meek desk and chair pushed into it, but Steve swallows the space. You forget how large he is, until the wide expanse of his chest stretches across the threshold of the doorway.
Blocking the light that floods from the hall, the hardened edge of his shoulder leans against the door frame as he watches you.
“How long have you been standing there” You let out after your eyes scan the familiar draped fine tailoring of his suit.
He considers you for a moment, the curled honey locs of his hair pushed back and falling out.
The air tinges with the faint smell of blood you recognise, but it fades quickly with heady smell of him.
“Long enough”
Your mind falls back, hadn’t you locked up? You were sure of it, right after Clem and Frankie had left.
Steve cocks his head
“Backdoor sweetheart. Somethin’ you should’ve made sure you keep locked”
“To keep men like you out” You grunt out without thought, your eyes widen at your words. Steve’s mouth quirks to the side, seemingly entertained by your little misstep.
“Yes, to keep men like me out” Steve nods to your surprise, the voice darkening.
“What are you doing here?” You reply
“Taking you home. It’s late, too late” Steve mutters disapprovingly, eyes glancing towards the thick darkness that coated through the diner windows.
“I wanted to close up” You say suddenly, the thought of Mare facing the brunt of Steve pushing into your mind.
Steve looks back to you, “I’m sure you did. You’re too forgiving for your own good”
You shrug your shoulders, he was not wrong. But it felt like pulling teeth to be anything else, saying no felt like pushing against a brick wall. Have you always been like this? Or did your husband change you?
You feel that it was something innate, your need to please everyone, to let things just happen to you. You were yoked to this detrimental good you carried the moment your soul was uttered into existence.
Steve's gaze flickers, and you link your fingers together at the realization of being watched. You spent so long blending into their background, unconsidered, minute. But with Steve it felt all he could do was watch you.
Unrelenting and filtering everything else around you as it stuck to your turned face.
“Where are Sam and Bucky?” You say, after the silence fills the space between you two again.
“Out. Doing some work for me” Steve grunts, voice murky as he weaves through your answer diplomatically. Steve was good at giving you just enough information, keeping you in the dark and too deep simultaneously.
You collect your things from the locker room, swinging your bag across your chest while Steve follows you wordlessly. You take one quick sweep of the diner, before fishing out your keys and locking the back door.
The hum of a car has you turning your neck into the alleyway behind the back door as you spot the outline of Steve's car that seems to blend into the pitch darkness. It matches him perfectly, dark, silent and more expensive than your entire life.
Steve is by the passenger side, hand gripping the curved window while he waits silently for you to get in. It’s different to when Bucky or Sam picks you up, and you feel the intensity of it as you slide into the leather seat.
The car door closes, the air inside cut short as let out a shaky exhale. Watching Steve move to the driver side with ease. He barely spares you a glance, the engineering roaring to life as he pulls out of the Diner’s alleyway and into the city streets.
Your bag is sat on your lap, you grip and fiddle with the straps nervously as the flash of skyscrapers and traffic light illuminate the walls of the car. He slinks past traffic and main roads with ease, eyes almost glazed over like the city was etched into him, following the road ways to your apartment like he had been there countless times.
Unease prickles you as you realise he had, possibly even before you had known about him. Before he had strolled into the diner those weeks before, before you fell into his palm and the dizzying spiral.
You don’t feel the fear you had grown accustomed to with your husband however, it’s different, familiar in a way you can’t explain.
As you drive through the bridge that separated the boroughs, to the side of town that was darker and more decrepit than the city centre you think back to Bucky and all that he had confronted you with yesterday.
Steve and his secrets, the life he lived now born from what was before, you bristle when you remember.
Bucky's thinly veiled anger when he talked about your husband, about what he had done. To Steve. How could Steve be in a car with you, drive you home, vow to trust him when your own husband had obliterated any sense of love he had?
He had killed her, took Steve’s fiance or what she was without thought, all for this world. To be granted power and control and he had found it, maybe that was Steve's endgame. The thought morphs before you can take hold of it, until it blares in your mind, hot in your ear.
Was this retribution? An eye for an eye? Would he remove you from your husband in the same quickness as she was?
You hear Steve call your name, eyebrows furrowed and it takes you a second to realise your hands are shaking, wrapped tight around your bag.
“Stop it”
You can barely think, swallow, you give a pitiful exhale as an answer.
“Whatever your thinkin’, don’t.”
“Steve” You plead, his knuckles whiten against the steering wheel as he slows. The streets are vacant, no sound of any traffic or wheels behind or infront of you.
“He killed her. He killed her” You whisper horrifyingly, hand coming up to cover your mouth.
Steve closes his eyes, you see his tongue press against the roof of his mouth. He opens them, the blue hues like glitter against the dark around him.
“Bucky told you”
You nod, turning your body in the passenger seat to face him. “How can you even agree to be around me knowing what my husband did? To- to your” You mumble, not knowing what to say, how to say it.
“It was a long time ago” Steve replies, his voice is soft. Careful.
Your eyebrows crease as you shake your head fervently.
“That matters?” You reply incredulously
“Time brings perspective. It changes things.” Steve hums
“Changes what you want. You don’t think I could have tracked him down and taken his head for what he had done?”
You swallow, Steve's eyes tracking the moment. No doubt
“Why didn’t you?”
“Revenge is something juvenile, it feels good in the moment and then you’re left with the real world. To survive in this life is to think ahead, that’s all it ever is. Thinking, and planning and waiting”
You knew that word intimately. Waiting.
You fall back onto the seat,
“I think too much” You mumble out
Steve shakes his head “It saved your life”
“You know more than what I wanted you to, but that isn't your fault. You lived the way you could, that is something I cannot say for a lot of people. Surviving the way you did, most of my men wouldn't”
Steve's words surprise you, the defined nature of them. He believed it, most people wouldn't call it survival. You don't forget Rumlow’s words, how they had sunk their way into you, even Sam and Bucky had that silent reservation.
She was the one who married him, what did she expect?.
“Who was she? To you. Bucky said..” You begin, words trailing off when Steves gaze hardens
“Bucky only knows what I tell him.”
He scratches at his jaw, no doubt considering what information to leave out when he weaves through your question.
“It was brash, rushed and quick. Thought we could elope and run to goddamn nowhere. A town where no one would know my last name.” Steve shakes his head.
“Fucking foolish. I asked her to marry me without a ring and the clothes on my back after my father set me down. Told me it was time.”
“Time?” You interject
“Time to be a made man. Time to take over what he left me with, what would be mine”
“You didn’t love her?” You ask, careful with your words but it doesn’t hit Steve in the way you thought it would.
“There was love there, but, it was always something else. Retribution, revenge against my father. We both knew what it was and what it wasn’t. It was beyond us, just childish meddling to escape the inevitable. We both needed each other-”
“Like how you need me now?” You’re caught off guard by the bristle of your voice. You didn’t mean it, but it came out heated anyway.
Steve looks up at you with a cock of the head.
“Margaret wasn’t the love of my life”
Margaret. He said her name with the same detachment as kicking a rock off his path.
“But they murdered her anyway. He murdered her anyway.”
“Yes he did”
There’s a flash of something that passes through Steve’s hard demeanour. Something close to guilt and sadness. You’re caught off guard by the emotion of it. Every assumption you form of him changes with the next word that comes out of his mouth.
His eyes glaze, thoughtful, you see the smooth curves on him that come out edged now as he speaks. He still held her death as a causation of him.
“Am I set to the same fate Steve? Am I going to be murdered by my revenged obsessed husband? By this world?”
There’s a tick that appears in Steve’s jaw at your comment, his eyes cast low.
“No, you aren’t. But I can’t promise that if you keep things from me-”
You can’t help the laugh that falls out of your mouth.
“You want honesty? Is that what this is, Steve? Are we going to pretend like we know each other” You reply, confused.
Steve's gaze hardens at that. You’re taken back by the mix of anger that flashes through his eyes.
“I know there are things you don’t understand. There is so much you don’t know-”
“Then tell me!” You reply harshly. Steve sighs, grinding his jaw as he parks the car, the view of your apartment complex against the windshield.
“It’s better this way” Steve replies curtly, you don't wait for him to reach your side of the door as he gets out, pushing it open roughly as you stomp towards your apartment.
You were going to drown with everything you knew and everything you didn’t, couldn’t he see that?
Steve calls out to you roughly, but you ignore him. The elevator to your apartment is occupied so you twist to the staircase that leads to your floor. You hear him behind you, steps quiet but you can feel the warmth of him at your back.
You open your apartment door, shouldering in and attempting to slam it behind you. The shine of Steve’s shoe stops it, his broad shoulder side stepping into your home.
“You don’t close doors in my face” Steve replies, voice devoid of emotion as he shuts it behind him.
He was incredible, marching into your home like he owned it and chastising you.
You drop your bag on the counter of your small kitchenette, opening cupboards and rifling through to find the recognised brown stained glass.
“Do you want one?” You bristle to Steve without looking up.
“No”
You miss the way Steve's gaze hardens as he watches you, it's rough and uncontrolled, how you set down the glass and pour the liquor without thinking, itching for the burn to coat your throat and make you forget.
You down it quickly, reaching to pour yourself another greedily before Steve wraps his enormous hand around the neck of the bottle
“I think that's enough” Steve grunts, you try to reach for it and he shakes his head. Moving to your living room window and dropping the bottle down. It crashes, the sound vibrating through as a cat shrieks close by.
Your mouth hangs open as he appears in front of you again in a flash. You’re mad now.
“Oh fuck you! You lied to me Steve! You keep lying to me!”
“I never lied to you”
You ignore his reply in favour of the buzz humming anger you feel coursing through you.
“You lied to me after I thought you were the only thing- god-I was so goddamn stupid, how did I ever think”
“I did not lie to you” Steve repeats harsher, stepping closer
“What about Rumlow huh?”
“What about him?” Steve grunts
“He told me the truth! About what you want, why I’m here”
“And what did he say huh? Tell me, what do you think this is?” Steve’s eyes darken, crossing the threshold in two long strides to press close to you.
Your throat dries up as he grinds his jaw expectantly.
“He told me to put out. So that you could be done with me” You grunt, blinking back the bile and fear that day erupted in mind.
Steve's eyes blink, one twice, you see his hand twitch, furling and curling into a fist.
“He is nothing, a soldier for hire that would say and do what he wants without care. You don't know anything. You are just naive and-”
“You don't tell me anything!” You scream out frustratingly. You wanted to pull your hair out.
“You want to know? Huh, is that why you came to my office with all my men fucking ogling you?”
You shake your head dismissively “Fine. Yes, and you still give me nothing. You have to give me something, anything about why I’m here and why you need me-”
“You don’t know yourself!” Steve cuts you off, his loud booming voice taking up your entire apartment. Bouncing off the tattered carpet and the peeling walls. It stumps you into silence as your mind reels to catch up.
“…What?” You whisper, gone is the anger that had filled you before, all that’s left is the wait. Again. Waiting for him.
Steve shakes his head, muttering in a language you don’t quite understand. Wiping a hand down his face, his blonde hair tousled and out of place.
“You have absolutely no idea about who you are, who you are in this life” Steve replies, eyes flickering to the skyline of the city that peeks through the buildings outside your apartment.
“Steve..what do you mean?” Your words creak out of your mouth without air
“You’re right, you have been lied to, doll. You have been lied to by that fucking husband, and your goddamn father-”
“My father? What-how do, what do you know about my father” You hadn't thought about your father in years. In moments only in grief and bitterness. He had died long before you could fit his outline into your mind.
Silence.
It's different, what he says now. He jitters a little, mind jumping as he tries to clear his head. Steve never faltered, he never let human error, the misstep leak from him and stain the prisms he had created for himself. You had sunk your fingers deep, clutching at his ribs and his lungs and his goddamn vocal cords, and now the road he had taken you on crumbles underneath him.
“Steve” You plead, fingers taut into a fist. Fingers and vocal cords, tugging and pulling and retching him to speech.
“Your husband isn’t the one that tethers you to this life underneath our shoes, your father is. And whether or not you want to believe it, you were meant for this. It’s in your goddamn blood” Steve rasps, brushing against your chest as he leans in, his eyes trailing across your face.
“But, my-he's gone.” You shake your head furiously, search Steve's face to find the lie. You know already that he isn’t, blue eyes boring into yours. “My father he was-”
“He fell in love, and all good men always end up dead that way” Steve spits out bitterly.
“No, no Steve”
“Yes. Your grandfather carved his place in the underground. Parts of the city even I can’t reach, and it would have become your fathers too. So now it is yours. No matter how hard your father had tried to shield you away from it, this life has a way of making sure you receive what you are owed one way or another.”
Steves feels almost guilty at the wave of nausea that takes over you, this is why he didn’t want you to know. But you ran him ragged and god almighty it felt like you controlled his very mind.
He steps forward when your body pulls away from him, your fingers coming up to press into your temples and you shake and blink and look at him wide eyed.
His body is turned into you, fingers curling and uncurling like the very space between you both physically hurt him.
You don’t lean into him and he doesn't move further, finding yourself at stand still as the air seems to hang onto your shoulders.
You did not know your grandfather, catching only slivers of memories from your childhood about a man with shoes like Steve and cufflinks that came one afternoon, the day your father died and your world had splintered into two.
You would not see him again, and you felt that was purposeful now.
This is what you had wanted, wasn’t it? To know? To rub out the waiting that filled your mind every passing day you were kept in the dark.
Your life is no longer governed by linear time, just in moments. Moments like now, where the past was held by people you didn't even know a month ago, pieces and parts of you that should have been yours. Instead you find them spilling out onto the small tiled floor of your kitchenette.
Your father, your father. Your lip trembles when you try to piece him together, you feel his warmth in your mind, safe and all consuming but that is all that he left you with. You can’t picture his face, the slope of his neck, the lilt of his voice. But his blood runs through you now, and no matter how inconceivable it was, Steve was right, you knew what lineage meant in this world.
Steve had tried to run for it, your husband had killed for it, and you would be born into it in every timeline and universe.
You had thought you were a victim in this world, pulled from the streets like a hostage and thrown into a room and clothes that did not fit you. A bystander brought into this life through matrimony rather than blood.
You wondered why your husband had been so adamant in marrying you, you were plain, unassuming. It wasn’t love that guided him, no, you were a chess move. Another insurance to his power and kingdom that any heir of his would swallow up an even greater part of the world.
He would take from you, your name, your father, the very birthright owed to you.
An anger fills you as your past connects with your present, it's a strange thing. This small inking feeling of hunger that lines your insides. You welcome it, feel the tug of its vibration through your fingers as you think back to all the times you were pressed under your husband's thumb.
It’s dizzying, the way Steve's words have changed what you know about yourself so quickly. It’s the same hunger that clicks the confusion and displacement you had felt all these years into place.
And when you look up Steve's eyes seem to glint under the overhead light, like he knew. Knew the feeling, knew the change that occurred in your mind. His head falls to the side as he blinks, fists relaxed from their cramped curl.
You hadn’t planned on Steve, not in his unrelenting chase of you, not the way he had irrevocably changed your irate escape from your husband.
You remembered you had wanted to go up to Alaska, when you pulled together enough savings. Far enough away where the cold ate at anything worth trying to drag back, it was useless, you were tied, it was blood against snow.
This world would find you again and again and again until you grew familiar under the maelstrom.
“Thank you.” You don't need to continue, Steve understands it.
You attempt to put away the now empty glass and other things left on your kitchen counter has your head spinning. You grip the wall with a grunt as your head spins, stomach twisting with alcohol and Steve's words.
“Why..why can’t I remember all this? My father, the past, anything” You grunt, frustration grinding away at you.
Your memory is so hazy, even more when you try to piece together the past Steve tells you that belonged to you. It’s like an oil spill each time you sift through the hole in your mind where it should be.
Steve hardens in a blink, face going blank and eyes as dark as pitch when he tears his eyes away from you.
“You need to sleep.” Steve replies instead, and it’s not until he says it do you feel the lead of your limbs tug at you tiredly.
You open your mouth, and Steve eyes flicker back at you from his gaze towards your bedroom.
“Can..can you stay tonight? Please” You whisper the last part and Steve's eyes go half mast, his eyelashes brushing against the curve of his cheek.
“I wasn’t planning on leavin’” He grunts out, voice heady with something you want to wrap your fingers around.
You nod before moving silently through your home, Steve remaining against the kitchenette counter as you shred your clothes and change into something that wasn’t stained and greasy. When you poke your head out your bedroom door, Steve is already eyeing you.
“I’m afraid I don't think I can find anything for you to sleep in” You murmur, your face pulling into a frown at his suit that did not look easy to move in let alone sleep.
Steve shakes his head dismissively, “Don’t worry about it” and begins to shred his suit tie. He folds it over your chair neatly, and you can’t tear your eyes off of him as he turns from you and slowly unbuttons the cufflinks of shirt. The tinge of blood staining the collar is faded, a pinky grey as you recall its smell in the diner.
You cut your eyes away when he begins to turn,
“I’ve got to make a phone call. I’ll be outside, okay?” Steve waits for you to nod, before slipping out of the apartment door. There's a small crack, and if you walk a bit closer you can probably make out his mumbles.
Steves turns his body from your apartment door, eyes straining down the poorly lit hallway of your apartment complex in silent scrutiny.
While this side of town wasn’t half as bad as the neighborhood Steve has dealt with, it was still dicey. You hadn't noticed, or maybe you had and had grown accustomed, to the beady shadows that scurried at every corner and alleyway.
It wasn’t safe for you here-it wasn't where you should have to live-but Steves reconciled only because of your fierce ownership of the one thing that was yours, entirely.
You were strong, so goddamn resilient it stumped him at times. It causes him to grind his jaw and grip his phone too, swiping his tongue across his teeth as he remembers what your husband had done to you. That same hunger for blood shoots through his veins, the one that had been so hard to stave away when Rumlow had cornered you on the balcony.
He wanted to paint the windows red with him then it itched his gums. And he would get the chance, he promised himself that at least, when you were back home and safe.
Flickering through the small contact list, Steve presses the familiar number of the long blond haired nordic. Thor picks up in two rings, the sound of booming music, and clinking bottles filtering through the receiver. It was nearly 2 am, and yet the other half of the Odinson charter seemed to buzz with bleary eyed glee.
“Rogers, didn’t think you would take up my invite but alas there is alcohol and enough women for us both”
“That’s not why I’m calling” Steve sighs, dealing with the Odinsons was tiring, and he only did it when it was necessary.
“I know. But you don’t usually call when you know I’m no longer talking business. And this late too” Thor replies, the sound of the nightclub slowing down as he moves to a more secluded area.
“Rumlow” Steve grunts
“He seems to be a bit of a problem huh?”
“He come to you?”
“Some of my men came back with a little surveillance. Last I heard he's gone AWOL though. Hasn’t been on the streets, or in my club for that matter.”
“Think he ran?” Steve muses, he called Thor to try and locate the mercenary, not find out he disappeared.
“Mmhm, that or.. he’s laying face down in the Hudson” Thor replies, Steve had felt the smile that pulls at his face through the phone. Thor had spent years as a butcher, and only when Loki had shown back up had their father passed on the mantle. That sort of hunger for removing bodies doesn't leave no matter what half brother comes back for a family reunion.
Thor agrees to keep an eye out, attempting to persuade Steve to come down for a second time before reconciling. In all the time they had known each other, Steve had never indulged in the debauchery their type of work had gifted them. It didn’t stop him from asking him every time however.
Your hands are wring together, twisting nervously when Steve slides through the crack in the door back into your apartment.
“I’ll make up the couch for you. I think I have some winter blankets somewhere in the hallway closet” You mumble before Steve's stern gaze stops you.
“No”
Your eyebrows raise at the anger steeped into it, “Steve, I’m not letting you sleep on the rotting carpet”
“Why can't you just let yourself rest?” You try to shake the uneasy feeling that fills you with his words, feeling bare and self conscious as you wrap your hand around your stomach.
“I..” The words die in your throat and Steves swipes a hand down his face, sighing evenly as he moves to you in two long strides.
There is no amount of protest that can stop Steve from wrapping an arm under your knees, the other bringing you to the stiff planes of his chest. You can’t speak, stunned as he moves easily down the corridor, stealing a hesitant glance up to his face as he watches you. His face is still, muscles taught like the effort of holding himself back from-what- you don’t know burned through him.
He pauses at the threshold of your room, tracking his eyes across the strewn sheets of your bed.
You didn’t know where to put your hands, your own proprioception off kilter as you stayed limp. Steves seems to know, his grip on your gentle and featherlike, like he knew he’s too big body crowded you. Muscle stretching and pulling against the sweetness of your belly and curved hip.
His chest caves in, ribs beneath the rippled muscle of his stomach inhaling the tinged air between you. Your mouth is slightly open, swallowing as you try to decipher what face Steve has unearthed for you now. The moment seems to stretch on, the one that sits between you, you don’t know why you latch onto it, wanting time to stretch on so you could have this.
You don’t even know what-this-is but it startles you how familiar it rings. Like your body knew something your brain did not, the gap in your mind intercepted with the memory your body held.
Steve’s eyes fall to half mast, and they no longer have the dark pouring ink you had grown used to. It wasn't desire, no, it was something entirely different. An emotion you hadn’t been on the receiving end of in a long time. Something ripe and heavy and wanting.
“Come back with me. Please” It’s the first time Steve has begged for anything in years. Somehow you know this.
You watch his eyebrows twist, and you flutter your eyelids considering it. You gulp when you think about Rumlow and your husband knowing where you live and you nod.
Steve's shoulders fall at your acceptance, and it's the last thing he shows you, closing up his mind and his thoughts while he pushes through the cracked space of your bedroom door before carefully placing you onto your bed.
You turn quickly, trying to find words, a quip, anything to still rapid beat of your heart. Steve is already gone before you can think of it, the door shut gently. You don’t hear his footfalls until a moment later, like he had stood by the door.
Sleep finds you before you can try to understand why.
He wasn’t the main point but I can’t stop thinking about Steve in ‘three times’, like what a man. Just hard, quick, decisive with just enough tenderness somewhere in all that loyalty. Is he lonely at all? Like, who does he have to love on? I’d gladly volunteer. Beautiful story and writing!
a/n: oh oh oh! SAAAAMMMEE! i tell you, when i was writing that fic, i kept on catching myself drooling over steve (lol as you can tell by the big part he played in the story) and had to snap myself out of it all the time because it wasn't a steve fic. but yes yes yeesss, i did think about who he has to love on hehe, let me share the thoughts ৎ୭
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i think his girl would be just the sweetest little cinnamon roll ever
maybe you started working at the cafe near his home, just part-time while you’re finishing a degree
he was already a regular there, so when you started working there, not long passed before, a) you developed a huge crush on him, and b) since he came in there all the time, his usual order became almost imprinted on your brain since it was one of the few sentences you heard him utter that your heart clung onto
so the first time that you finished his sentence with the correct kind of coffee, that was the moment that snapped him out of his usual mundane haze and forced him to truly notice you for the first time.
and before he knew it, he had fallen into a legitimate relationship with you, more serious than any other he'd let himself experience.
it's very too sweet by hozier coded... because you truly are too sweet, too pure, too good for him... but that's also why he can't get himself to stop...
he keeps on telling himself that he needs to cut off ties to you, that you deserve better and that this can only end one way, with you getting hurt. but every time he tries, he just has to look into your eyes and the words crumble from his lips like they never existed at all.
and also, the last thing he wants for you to know is the kind of man he really is and the blood he has on his hands.
but when he’s with you, he isn't a dangerous mobster. he can just pretend that he's something else, just a regular guy like the one you believe he is. when he's with you, he can step into the world where everything is good, where wishes come true and it's borderline a fairytale compared to his reality.
he could never tell you the truth about who he is because at best it would just scare you, but at worst, it could potentially get you into trouble that you of all people don't deserve.
so he keeps it a secret.
even if the excuses he fumbles to come up with aren't always that great, you still haven't found out.
he'd rather you think that he is a klutz who gets into minor accidents and hurts himself all the time than have you know about how he really gets banged up too often to count.
he'd also rather have you think that he's an asshole for showing up late or not at all, than you knowing what grim truths had kept him.
maybe one day he does tell you everything and he spends the rest of his days protecting you and keeping you a secret from everyone in his world...
or maybe he doesn't. maybe he finds a way to do the impossible and get out of the life, but only for his past to catch up to him years down the line and blow up the perfect little white picket life you'd built together...
Summary: "Of all the women in the world, does she have to be a cop?" Bucky, a gangster, fell in love at first sight with a policewoman.
At the golf course, two outstanding men in the mob world are playing golf together to have a quiet time, to forget the worst day at the club they owned.
Steve, the second person in charge, still feels frustrated, while Bucky, the leader, is the only one enjoying the game.
"Of all the women in the world, does she have to be a cop?" Steve, his childhood friend, asked as he watched Bucky hit the golf ball.
Bucky clenched his fist in frustration as he made the shot. Turning to Steve, he replied, "I can't help it. She just took my breath away the first time I saw her."
Steve sighed, recalling the first encounter between Bucky and the policewoman when their club was unexpectedly visited by the narcotics police force.
Steve sighed, "She's known as a scary person, even among her colleagues," he said, relaying what he had learned from his connections.
"And from what happened last night, I feel like she holds a big grudge against people like us," Steve continued, reflecting on the recent events. Most of the cops he knew turned a blind eye to their business dealings, never getting involved with drugs.
Bucky remembered how composed you had been last night, effortlessly throwing punches and giving orders to make arrests. He even recalled the moment you pushed him to the ground and handcuffed him.
At that instant, he knew you were different from other women.
Bucky took another swing at the golf ball, causing it to fly too far. With a smile, he declared, "I will make her mine."
Steve sighed deeply, realizing that once Bucky had made up his mind, no one could stop him.
As Bucky began his courtship, he tried various approaches to get closer to you:
1. He sent you flowers with cryptic notes, hinting at his admiration and interest.
2. Bucky strategically positioned himself at events where you were present, making sure to catch your eye without being too obvious.
3. He orchestrated chance encounters, bumping into you at coffee shops or restaurants, always ready with a charming smile and a casual conversation starter.
4. He even went as far as anonymously sending you a gifts or helpful tips related to your work, trying to show his support and understanding of your profession.
But you didn't give any reaction; you consistently ignored him.
Bucky didn't mind your game of "playing hard to get." He was confident that in the end, you couldn't resist him.
However, his confidence wavered when you finally spoke to him, your words cutting through the air like icy daggers. "In 2022, Bobby Smith died because of a gunshot. He was my fiancé."
Bucky's face drained of color, his body going rigid with shock. The revelation hit him like a sledgehammer, the weight of guilt crashing down upon him. His mind raced as he realized the implication: Bobby Smith's death was because of him.
After the revelation, would Bucky give up his pursuit, or would he persist despite the overwhelming guilt?
Bucky is gonna want to seal the deal first but Peach was ready to let Steve have it raw so…I think she’ll get pregnant first
Hi Nonnie! 👋🏽
Bucky does dream of making you his wife asap, but he wants to do it the right way. But knocking you up on the wedding night is also a dream. He just has to somehow convince you to come off of birth control.
You already call him Daddy.
Maybe he will figure out a way to have you begging him to make you a mommy.
Steve just wants to make you his and he doesn’t care about “right.” If you’re married before you get pregnant, great, but nothing is gonna stop him from fucking you raw now that you gave him a taste.
He has a serious breeding kink that’s almost debilitating when it comes to you, imagining your body all round and full of his kid.
Summary: There’s a lot to apologize for, but some things happen for a reason
Word count: 6,323
Content/warnings: mob themes, gun mentions, swears, yelling, tough love, interrogation, punching, slapping, convincing-ish arguments?, fires, lots of time switching between the past and present, angst, sass
Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this next chapter! It takes place at the same time as chapter 4 of Handiwork and Chapter 11 of YCMBWH.
Your feedback is appreciated in all forms! Comments, reblogs, and asks are golden💗
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
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“Everything’s Fucked.” You spoke through gritted teeth, arms crossed, looking out the window. The open fields were whizzing by in the early morning light as Number Five drove you home in Bucky’s car, leaving him and Steve at the farm to clean up after the events of the previous night.
It was per your insistence that you stay until Curtis was found, despite having to get called in to the office for this Sunday afternoon. As much as you wished to stay back and ensure Curtis and Cherry were alright, you had a job to do. Sure, Steve and his goons could’ve called off for you like they did the last time, but you couldn’t risk the association with them, not anymore. Not when so much else in your life was at stake. And honestly, you weren’t sure how much more time you could stand to be around people. Your last straw was on the verge of snapping.
Late last night (aka early morning)
You sat in the hay loft of one of the small barns on the farm, feet swinging from the rafters as you watched the scene below. You observed the two men who crossed you, crossed Curtis as they sat in metal chairs, tied with fresh rope, one of them squirming, the other calmly watching the scene with a mischievous smirk on his face.
There was no way it was genuine, though. You knew they were going to lose. You had heard all about the the abilities of Bucky in the city from Five when you cornered him upon your return from the bar. You knew men were tearing down Lloyd’s organization as this entire scene was occurring, and you knew Bucky would get what he wanted. Apparently he had a reputation for that. How it flew under your nose for so many years, you weren’t sure, but it meant he was really good. Which might’ve also meant you weren’t as good as you thought, but that was a thought you tried to push from your mind, despite the way it kept creeping in.
Bucky was circling the two men, akin to a shark, crisp suit adorned, taking the place of the jeans and flannel shirt he borrowed for the bar. Steve was wearing the same, and your previous disdain for that formalwear was growing back and burning your throat. Sure, the farm clothes were comfortable, but you knew that would’ve made them too vulnerable, which wasn’t gonna fly in a mob interrogation like this. So suits it was. Gone was the simple pleasure associated with the old, worn clothing. This was all business.
The same went for you, except in your case, business meant comfort. The second you got back from the bar and entered the farmhouse, you shucked the dress off your body and weant straight for the laundry room, borrowing a pair of Bee’s jeans and an old flannel of Curtis’s that was sitting on top of the pile, the extra material tucked into your waistband as it bloused over your body. It was perfect for a crisp night like this, and you were sure he wouldn’t mind. Plus, who knew how dirty you were going to get at this point? You were literally in a barn.
This interrogation was going nowhere, though. Lloyd was fucking smug as ever and Cole was being a whiny bitch. And worse even, after rolling Lloyd’s name around in your head for an hour, it all made sense. Hansen. As in Lillian Hansen, criminal defense attorney that you abhorred, despite the fact you luckily never really had to deal with her. But you knew how much Scott couldn’t stand the lady, and you imagined Andy felt the same. Ugh, Andy, or should you go back to calling him DA Barber now, who was probably on Steve’s payroll. And probably Scott, too! Was there anyone left that you could trust to tell you the truth!? It looked like you were the only one who you could have faith in anymore. And maybe Cherry? But now, you were gonna use that rage and that self-reliance to get some results.
You swung down from the rafters and landed on strong legs in your boots on the dirt floor. Bucky had just gone over to greet Cherry who had walked into the barn. This was your open opportunity to get what you needed out of these pricks.
You stalked towards the men in the metal chairs, your face showing the vengeance these two were sure to face soon, if not by your hand, then by the mob’s. Your eyes narrowed and shoulders squared as you looked between the two men. You hated them more than you hated even Walker for what they had a part in. More than spoiled milk, more than being left out of the loop. More than Steve.
You were grateful for the way the corner of your eye caught Bucky’s arm barring Steve from approaching you. He had already messed up enough and taken choices from you. This wasn’t another thing you needed taken away. You would deal with it your own way as you stepped in front of Cole.
“I’ll give you one more shot. I’m sick of watching this dance. Where. Is. Curtis?”
A stuttering voice came out of Cole. “I-I don’t know.”
You rolled your eyes. Of course he didn’t. What a dipshit. The kind who doesn’t know basic science or who to trust. But you guessed, at this point, you didn’t either. You raised your arm.
Smack. In a flash, his head was tossed to the side.
“Wrong answer.”
If Cole wasn’t going to give what you needed, maybe Lloyd could, or maybe he and his tight lips could be the vessel to get the Turner heir to squeal.
You took a step to your left, putting yourself directly in front of Lloyd.
“Where?”
Your voice was even and low. Calm, yet rage-lined. You were so sick of all this shit. You had no room to feel sad or worried anymore. All that was left was anger. At the situation, at yourself. It filled you, but it fueled you. Lloyd shook his head, paired with his shoulders that jumped up and down with laughter. Your fists tightened at the way you could tell he wasn’t taking you seriously.
“Oh, come on, Pumpkin. You’re a smartie. Bet you’re a sweet peach just like your friend, too, but I’m not giving up whe-“
Punch. Right to the jaw. It was almost in slow motion as Lloyd fell to the hay floor in a heap with a dull thump and a rustle. You had pinpointed the right spot and knocked him out cold. Your eyes quickly fixed on Cole again, seeing a new wave of fear had swept across his face.
“Is that motivation enough for you to help us now?”
He furiously nodded, but then looked back over his shoulder at Cherry. “I’ll talk to her.”
You could see the surprise on her face, but he was in no place to make demands. Just as you were about to speak up, Steve’s voice filled the barn.
“No way. You lost your right to negotiate when you let Lloyd cross that line. You talk to me or you don’t have a tongue to talk anymore. Got it?”
You watched Cole gulp in fear. That was on him for refusing to deal directly with you, and now he got Steve, who you didn’t even know the capabilities of, never having witnessed him in this environment before. All of the unknowns hitting you at once were too much. You had to get out of there, so you turned on your heel and swiftly exited the barn, fast walking away. Anywhere else.
You grumbled and shook your head as your boots brushed through the tall grass. “Fucking dumbass mobsters.”
Present
The mid-morning sun was high and bright in your eyes as you continued on the highway back home. You were exhausted, but things would get better once you got back to work. Right? They had to.
You turned in your seat, cracking your back and doing your best to stretch in the confined space. You took the opportunity to reach around, too, opening the glove compartment, shifting items around.
Peter was attempting to keep his eyes on the road, but his gaze kept flashing to you. “Everything alright, Miss Decks?”
You groaned in frustration, rifling through the drinks in the center console. Of course it was a cooler.
“Where does Bucky keep the sunglasses? He’s gotta have an extra pair somewhere. Rich bastard is rarely unprepared, I know it.”
Peter reached up near the rear view mirror and popped open a sunglasses holder where you saw a pair of dark frames.
“Ah, thank you, Five.”
You grabbed them and closed the holder, before sliding them on your face, crossing your arms, and scooting back down in the passenger seat. There was still a ways to go, and this was a little better so you didn’t go blind.
Just as you started nodding off for a nap, you felt a buzzing in your pocket. You let out a big sigh and pulled out your phone, rolling your eyes when you saw who it was: Bee. You groaned as you hit the button to answer the call, putting it on speaker in case there was something she had to say to Peter.
“What?”
There was a deep breath taken on the other side of the line. “Well good morning to you, too, Sunshine. How’s the drive going? You kind of left abruptly.”
You continued to stare out at the road, more cars having joined alongside you as the day continued.
“Yeah. Couldn’t waste anymore time. Had to get back for the shift they need me for this afternoon.”
You heard her hum, knowing exactly what her face was from that noise. Most definitely tight-lipped and skeptical.
“Yeah, okay. And this isn’t you running away from your problems, right?”
You were silent for a second. She didn’t need to call you out like that. You were fine. It was all…fine. Maybe if you could convince her of that, you could convince yourself, too.
“What problems? We got Curtis back. Bucky is gonna help you figure out everything to keep your farm and then some I bet. No issues here except me having to go to work.”
It was Bee’s turn to stay silent now. It’s not like she was ever an excessive talker, but both of you knew that if she wasn’t gracing you with a response, she could see right through you and was waiting for you to state the conclusion on your own. Her silence drove you crazy.
“Okay, fine! I’m going back to my job to drown myself in test analysis reports and probably straining my eyes at the microscope again. Is that what you wanna hear?”
She let out a dry laugh from the other end of the line.
“While I admire the hustle, partner, you know it’s not. I wanna hear you talk about exactly what’s going on with a certain blonde puppy that’s pouting in my living room right now. But…since I love you I can give you good news first.”
Good news didn’t sound like something that could exist right now. But before you could catch more of those thoughts, you were interrupted by the clearing of a throat next to you. Oh right, Five was driving this car.
“Ugh. Before you speak more, hold on. Because this is between me and you, and I don’t need someone reporting this information to his boss.”
You looked over at Peter and the way his brow furrowed.
“Five, can I count on you to keep whatever you hear in this conversation a secret?”
He simply gave a curt nod.
“Discretion is my entire job description, Miss Decks.”
You sighed. It was exactly what you wanted to hear, but was it just that?
“Yeah, but do you have to report everything I say to your superiors?”
Peter shrugged. “I have to follow their orders…so if they tell me to…yes.”
“But isn’t your primary order right now to protect me? So protect me by not saying anything to Steve. What’s he gonna do? Hold a gun to your head?”
Peter was silent.
“Oh my god, he’s not gonna put a gun to your head, is he!?”
Peter spared a quick glance at you. “Um, I’d hope not. Probably not? No, no, he knows I’d never cross him. Mr. Rogers doesn’t like to get rid of people for no good reason. So definitely not if he knew the order of my silence came from you.”
From the phone in your hand, you heard Bee hum. “Ooooo, Decky, your reputation among the ranks precedes you.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’d tell you to shut up, but I’m actually trying to give you the opportunity to speak right now, and I have no desire to hear more about this hierarchy, so talk before I change my mind.”
Humor reached her voice at the way you were beginning to open up to her again. “Oh I love how you love me. You might regret giving that free rein, but I’ll get on with it. This weekend went to… excuse my language…shit, but I didn’t even get to show you your surprise.”
Your ears perked up. “Bee, you what? When on Earth did you have time for that?”
She made an unsure, drawn out sound. “Well…I didn’t. I’ve had my hands pretty full..it’s um, technically from Cole, but you’re gonna like it.”
You scoffed. “How am I going to like something regifted from that fucking weirdo.”
The annoyance she’d been holding back with your bitter mood was starting to show in her voice now. Something very rare. You couldn’t believe you were actually wearing her patience down. “Decks, can you just be nice for one second!? Don’t make me call you by your birth name, because I swear I will. I’ll use the middle one, too! God. It’s a cow. It’s that cow you always asked for. She’s yours and she needs a name. Please be nice to me. I’m trying so hard right now to help you. Try and shed some light on this terrible situation.”
“Okay, okay, fine.” You shrunk in on yourself in your seat and your voice was almost a squeak. As much as you wanted to be annoyed at everything and how it did truly go to shit, you couldn’t blame it on her. It really wasn’t her fault. And this subject change was kind of nice.
Your voice was still small. “So tell me more about this cow. Mini highland?”
Back was her bright tone. “Yep! That’s the one. Light brown and adorable. You wanna rif on it?”
You sighed. “Um…maybe not right now? But I really do appreciate it. Give that girl a nice spa day for me, will you?”
You couldn’t see it, but you were sure she was nodding on the other side of the phone.
“Yeah, yeah. I will.”
Earlier last night (right after returning from the bar)
Steve and Bucky had converted one of the barns on the property into a makeshift interrogation room while Cole and Lloyd were still out cold, Bucky having knocked them out as a result of the fight in the bar. He knew you had driven Cherry home, but had no idea where you were now as he walked around the barn entrance, kicking stray rocks and looking up at the clear sky, littered with stars. All he could think about was sharing that view with you.
Over his shoulder, he could hear the grass rustling from footsteps and suddenly next to him stood Bucky. Steve looked at his best friend with a halfhearted smile, the pain evidently seeping through. It wasn’t going to be an easy night by any means, but Bucky knew it was much harder for Steve than him. Steve sighed, comfortable enough to speak his mind. He had to get this out, voicing something would keep him from combusting.
“It’s so beautiful. All the times I’ve been out here, I haven’t gotten the chance to look up at the sky at night without all the light pollution. Decks would love this. I bet she knows all the constellations.”
Bucky let out a small chuckle at the obsessive thoughts of his friend. He had a point, though, and he felt it a little more as he heard Bee walk up behind him, slotting her fingers between his own and setting her head on his shoulder. Steve continued to stare upward with a small, wistful sigh as Bee spoke over the light chirp of the crickets.
“She does. She took an astronomy elective in college. The stars are no use enjoying alone. You should be staring up at them together, but she needs to come to that conclusion on her own now that she knows everything.”
Steve nodded, huffed, then wiped his tired eyes with the heels of his palms, finally dropping his head.
“Yeah, you’re right. But I’m going to keep trying. I have to.”
Bee clicked her tongue and looked over at Bucky, responding to Steve. “As you should. Sometimes the best things are the ones someone teaches you to work a little extra for.”
Present
“Now it’s your turn, Decks. What’s really got you twisted?” Bee’s bright voice was louder than you’d like on the phone speaker.
You grumbled your response under your breath.
“What? I couldn’t quite catch that?”
You sighed and took a sip of water from the bottle you pulled out of the cooler, preparing yourself to finally voice the feelings you’d had cooped up inside.
“God, Bee this is so fucking embarrassing. I was stupid and blind. That’s what I’m so mad about, Curtis aside. It was all right in front of me the entire time. I should’ve seen it coming. I mean, Bucky, Steve, Lillian, Lloyd. They were all right there! And I missed them! I’m a terrible civic servant. I should just rescind that application I sent to the FBI.”
You huffed after having said your peace, but were glad the phone wasn’t up by your ear when her voices busted through the speaker again.
“WAIT, you applied to the FBI!? Decks, why didn’t you tell me?!”
You shrugged. “I don’t know, didn’t feel right at the time when I was at your house. And I didn’t want it over call or text in case the NSA or someone else was listening, but what does it matter now? I’m a terrible investigator.”
You thought for a second before speaking up again. “I shouldn’t have tried to make all this for myself. Maybe my mom was right and I should’ve looked for a husband a long time ago. Settled down or something and stopped pushing to have more. The world’s been trying to tell me that’s all I’m good for, but obviously even that’s something I mess up.”
“Ugh, Decks. You’ve gotta stop with that malarkey your mom fed you. Sure, she’s great and she stayed home once she found a husband, but that doesn’t have to be you. You’ve told me several times you don’t want that to be you. If that’s what you want now, great, but I know you and I know it’s not. I think you should keep going for your goals. You’d be great in the FBI.”
You wanted to smile at the compliment, but you felt like a fool. “Would I, though? For the several reasons I just told you? Plus, even if I were to get in, they do background checks. And interviews of family and friends. How’s it gonna look if my best friend is involved with the mob? And so is that guy that I kissed, like twice, but wanted to do way more than kiss with? And oh yeah, his best friend, which also happens to be the aforementioned best friend’s boyfriend? Also mob. And let’s add another friend getting kidnapped by a dirty lawyer, once again, mob, to the list. Can’t hide that.”
Bee sighed in contemplation. “Well, uh, actually, you can. Technically on paper I’m a produce contractor for Bucky’s restaurants. That’s why they’ve got all the businesses, bestie.”
“But even if that does work for the interview process, my luck won’t roll on forever. So maybe cut ties are for the best. But also, do they really even matter? Like, not really at this point. Nothing matters. I’ll just stay in the city, do my little science experiments like a monkey for those fuckwads like Walker, and maybe get a cat. It’ll be grand.”
Bee almost growled. You were sure it was terrifying in person. “Can you just stop feeling sorry for yourself!? I didn’t want to have to pull out the tough love but you leave me no choice. Yeah, this whole thing is fucked up. You got lied to, and I’m sorry for that. But honestly, nothing was fake. I’ll tell you that for a fact. And I know you know it, too. You can join the FBI if you want. You can keep your digital footprint and paper trail clean, and you can find happiness on your own terms. I’m this close to saying I’m sick of this sour behavior, Decks. If anyone can find their way out of a tangled mess like the one you think you’re caught up in, it’s you. So like you always do, put your head down and stop complainin’!”
You didn’t want to dignify this all with a response, so she kept going, but something on the other end of the line was trying to get her attention. “Listen, I’ve gotta go. But you know where I stand. On all of this. On you, on Steve, on your job. You can call me whenever, just think about it and stop selling yourself short. I know you’ve got this whole hard, tough exterior going for you, and it’s great. I love it, because I know the softness underneath. But don’t let that all harden, too. I can see you want it to because yeah, this all hurts, but that’s not gonna help your pain. It’s just gonna trap it there.”
What the fuck was this wise sage advice? She was turning into her uncle slowly. You were sure of it. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean she was wrong, though, but you didn’t want to hear it. So you simply put your hood up and pulled the strings tight. Her voice held a tone of disappointment, but also empathy at your continued silence; it was softer now.
“I love you, and I care for you, and I want you to know, I never would have let Steve get that close to you if I didn’t think it could bloom into something amazing. For both of you. It’s beyond just having someone else there. I know you’re mad, but maybe give him a chance. Okay? I’ve really gotta go now. Bye.”
The dial tone signaling the end of the call filled the car. You watched as Peter’s hands adjusted on the wheel and the city skyline came into view.
The thing was, after getting all of that out to Bee and listening to her, you realized you weren’t really mad, but it all just hurt. It was a pain that came from heartbreak. Someone you trusted let you down; multiple people. But you weren’t sorry about how you acted because of it. And to your surprise, you weren’t sorry about much that had happened at all, but for now, you needed to focus on you.
Late last night (after the interrogation)
Steve stayed light on his feet as he ducked and made his way through the tall grass of the farm field. After your…. convincing argument… as to why Cole should speak up, he spilled everything to Bucky and Steve. And it was everything. The extent of his deals with Lloyd, his original plans to overtake Bee’s farm, the true financial state of his own empire, and the fact that he and Lillian were seeing each other. Which was…frankly, more than Steve was willing to hear.
All of that information, though, led him to one of the newer locations of the Turner farms. One that specialized in cattle feed and storage, so no live animals on the property, just fallow and crop fields, and several barns and silos.
Steve rushed through the tall grass, flanked by Bucky and his men, giving silent hand signals as orders. They were to make as little of a scene as possible, which would’ve been successful if Lillian’s men hadn’t made a mess of everything. Shooting without silencers, screaming, making the entire scene evident to any onlookers. They were lucky they were in the middle of nowhere. Someone might just mistake it all as a farmer’s altercation with a coyote.
After having taken care of the two guards outside one of the barns while Bucky and his men handled the rest of the area, Steve was on alert as he slid the barn door open on the largest of the several buildings. The early morning light lit up the dim barn, illuminating Curtis’s face. Steve wanted to feel relief but he had to make sure Curtis was alright first. He surveyed the area as he approached.
Out in front of him, Curtis squinted and spoke with a raspy voice. “Steve?”
Steve gave him a small smile, surprised when Curtis’s face fell a little flat, not giving much emotion.
“Hey there, partner. I’m here for retrieval service.”
He walked around behind Curtis and crouched down, pulling the knife out of his breast pocket, flicking it open, and cutting the wrist restraints. Curtis immediately brought his hands to his front, rubbing the tender area.
“Did you get Lillian? She was outside. And all the guards? Is everyone else okay? How’s Cherry? Decks? Bee?”
Steve walked around to Curtis’s front, crouching once again to begin sawing at the ropes that held his ankles.
“The girls are good. Safe on the farm being guarded, but I think they can handle themselves. Your girl has taken this quite well all things considered.”
Steve broke through the ropes and looked up at Curtis’s face. There was a cut on his cheek that appeared to be bruising slowly.
“Lillian got you pretty good, huh? Don’t worry, we’ve got her now. And Lloyd and Cole. They’re getting delivered back to an old friend in the city as we speak. Probably won’t have to see their faces ever again. That’s a blessing.”
Steve thought back to Lillian meeting him and Bucky at the edge of the property when they first arrived, gun and singular henchman at the ready, easily overpowered by the two of them. Backup must have been lagging. They were easily set in the back of one of the SUVs in the brigade to be sent away. Good riddance, she was terrible and Curtis didn’t even know the half of it.
Curtis nodded in assent. “You could say that again.”
Steve looked Curtis once over, checking for any more injuries, satisfied to not see anything too bad. She must’ve been planning something terribly drawn out and he was lucky she never got there. “Can you walk?”
Curtis nodded and groaned as he threw his hands to his knees and pressed out of the uncomfortable metal chair.
“Yeah…you never really answered all of my questions, though, city boy, at least not fully….”
Steve internally winced, hoping that would squeak past, but it didn’t. He walked with Curtis up to the edge of the barn, peeking out to check if the coast was clear and speaking into an ear piece, indicating Curtis had been picked up and was ready for transport. He nodded with confirmation and his shoulders relaxed a little, although Steve grabbed the gun from the holster on his hip just in case, keeping it low as they shuffled out into the open field. One could never be too cautious of Lillian, but this didn’t seem like a plan that was thought out very well.
Steve and Curtis stepped out onto the land of one of the Turners farms. It was a newer one, a shame, yet somewhat satisfying by how much of it was on fire right now. The barn behind them was already up in flames, per the boss’s orders.
Steve led Curtis back to his black SUV parked on the gravel road, but looked at the farmer with confusion as Curtis took it upon himself to go towards the driver’s seat, despite the way Steve was very evidently guiding him towards the passenger side. Curtis held his hand out for the keys expectantly. Steve was nervous, he didn’t like the look on his face one bit. It was stern, demanding, and…protective? And it perfectly matched his vocal tone.
“Come on. While I drive home, you’re gonna walk me through your plan to get Decks back. If the next time I see her, she’s as mopey as she’s been this weekend, or worse yet, this hardens her, you’ll have hell to pay.”
Steve sighed as he settled into his seat. “Okay, okay. But I think I’m gonna need a lot of your input. Just be nice about it.”
Curtis raised a skeptical brow at Steve as he pulled out onto the country road. Steve wished he could crawl out of his skin. He might have just risked his life to save Curtis, but now he was on edge, faced with having to confront not only what he did wrong, but how he planned to fix it, and the fact that it may never be good with you again.
In Steve’s extended silence, Curtis decided to speak up, one hand on the wheel to slightly turn his body.
“You know, Steve, I’ve always been a little skeptical of you.”
Steve’s heart was beating fast. He wasn’t blind. Something about the two of them just never clicked.
“But that doesn’t mean I don’t like you. I think you and I just don’t understand the way each other ticks. I don’t know why you do the things you do.”
Steve cleared his throat, turning towards Curtis to hear more.
“Way back when, Decks dated a friend of mine. It didn’t really go anywhere, but I knew I didn’t like it and I wasn’t sure why.”
Steve nodded in anticipation to where this was going.
“I came to realize it was because I was protective, because I know her. And I know she’s tough, but there’s a lot more vulnerability under that surface. And from that moment, I saw, too, that anyone who dated her without taking special consideration for that wasn’t my friend. Anyone who didn’t bare their own intentions and thoughts like I knew she was bound to do, wasn’t a friend.”
Steve shifted in discomfort. “So you don’t think I care? You don’t think I’m honest?”
Curtis blew out a breath. “I can tell you care, but I think you were a little too comfortable withholding the truth from someone who put their inner self on display for you.”
Steve nodded in understanding. He knew what he did was wrong, but he had no idea what the true gravity of it was.
“So, you got anything more to say about it, buddy? How are you going to apologize? How will you say you’re sorry and deserving of her?”
Steve wiped a hand down over his face.
“I-I don’t know. Maybe send her something? Some food, whatever she might want? Do you know what she might want? A car? A-“
Curtis stopped him right there. “I don’t think so. You can’t buy her forgiveness. How are you showing it to her? Plus, you can’t give her a car. The FBI will flag your connection to her real quick and I won’t let your feelings and lack of knowledge make a smudge on her background check when she just sent in that application.”
Steve sighed. He had no idea you applied to the FBI. Heck, he just learned only a week ago how you got your nickname. It seemed like he was so taken aback with your chemistry, and with hiding his identity, that the two of you skipped over each other as people.
“Okay, I-I didn’t know that. What do I do to show her, then, though?”
Curtis laughed dryly. “That’s for you to figure out. And sure, it could come in the form of gifts, but more so, it should come in the form of you. Do something that shows you’re willing to go by her pace, to learn the way she works and lives her life, not that you’re trying to fit her into yours, or worse yet, have her be an accessory to everything else you have going on. Decks is someone worth prioritizing.”
“Yeah, I know. Fuck. Well then it seems like I’ve got some work to do.”
“Big time. Now, my turn, because I wanna know the extent of hell you and I may have gone through together in another sense. Tell me what Lillian was like growing up.”
Steve smiled a little in the corner of his mouth. Maybe once he fixed it all with you, he and Curtis could get along after all. “Well, I’ll tell you what. I’m a saint compared to her.”
Curtis snickered. “I figured, golden boy.”
Earlier this morning, just before your departure
You shuffled around upstairs in the farmhouse, gathering the few items you came with in preparation to head back home. You knew the boys were out getting Curtis with cautious optimism they’d be back any minute. Bee and Cherry were downstairs, cleaning up the dishes from breakfast as you packed.
As you looked out the window, you saw an SUV turn off the dirt road and onto the driveway. You finished shoving everything else in your bag, slung it over your shoulder and went down the steps. When you got there, you saw Cherry walking out the front door as Bee was digging a broom and dustpan out of the closet.
You dropped your bag on the bench to scope the area, morning light glowing through the curtains. Your survey was cut short, though.
“Decks, be a dear and hold this dustpan for me, won’t you?”
You silently nodded, squatting down and looking at the shattered coffee mug. Bee didn’t seem on alert, though. She seemed relieved, and that’s when you heard Curtis’s voice on the other side of the door. You perked up before going to throw away the ceramic shards.
Just as you were dusting off your hands, the front door creaked open revealing Curtis a little battered and bruised, but walking just fine. As Bee put away the broom, you ran up to him and threw your arms around his neck. Your voice was muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
“I never thought I’d have to say a statement like this twice in a couple months, but I’m so happy you’re alive.”
Curtis laughed and rubbed your back. “Sure am. And I agree. That’s enough mob business for now.”
You let out a watery laugh, pulling away and letting Bee in to see her cousin. The door remained open and your eyes went straight to your bag again. As you grabbed it and put it over your shoulder, you quickly shuffled out the door, past the two large and suited men, running towards the third one who had agreed to drive you home.
Steve had walked in the house, ready to talk to you, but was caught by surprise when you zipped past him. As Bucky joined the group in the living room, ready to debrief everyone, all Steve could focus on was you. He lurched forward on his feet, shoved by Curtis, and used the momentum to jog down to Bucky’s car where you had already gotten in the passenger seat.
Peter was still standing outside the driver’s side as you looked straight ahead, arms crossed and ready to leave now that Curtis was alright. You had no intention of speaking with Steve, even though he was knocking on your window with a concerned look on his face.
“Decks. Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”
You shook your head just barely enough for him to see.
“Please? I want to apologize. I’m sorry.”
You reached a hand out to lower the window just a crack, still not granting him eye contact.
“Sorry for what, Steven?”
He took a deep breath, leaning forward so his one hand sat on the roof of the car, the other bracing the side mirror.
“Sorry for lying. Betraying your trust. Keeping the truth from you.”
You nodded, your lips pursed in slight anger and consideration. You finally whipped your head to face him.
“Did you ever think that maybe I wanted the choice, Steve? To know the truth. Decide whether or not what I felt for you was real by knowing all of you? You took that away from me.”
He nodded, staring down at the rocks in front of his feet. “I know, I know. That’s…..that was bad decision-making on my part-“
“See, but you got to make a decision. I didn’t. There’s a difference there. All that time spent together was a lie and a borderline waste.”
Steve shook his head, the watery blue of his eyes finally rising to meet yours again. “I don’t think it was. All those times with me, they were the real me, and I know they were the real you, too. That’s something I’ll never be sorry for: our time together. But I am sorry for taking the choice of you knowing what I might be getting you into.”
“You should be.” You faced forward in your seat again and rolled your window up, hearing Steve’s demands to Peter through the glass.
Next >
Bonus A/N: ooooooh! What does it all mean!? Hehehe🫣 was Curtis too nice to Steve? Be honest. Was bee too nice to Decks? Should she have pushed her back towards Steve a little harder?
You and Steve go to his club, you know he’s powerful but the way that the room responds to him, even in a subtle way, is astonishing. You’ve got your hand threaded through his arm as you walk through the crowd. You’re not sure where he’s bringing you, as he leads you across the room then to some stairs.
“This is my private area, no one will bother you but they’ll all be able to see you. At least here, once you’re back on the couches no one can see you.” Steve tells you when you get to the top of the staircase. There are a couple of black leather couches and a low coffee table.
“Will you stay up here with me?”
“No. I have some business to attend to but I’ll have eyes on you constantly. I promise.” Steve presses a soft kiss to your temple and you cling to him. You know he can feel how you shake. “Are you low or scared?” He asks softly, gently cupping your chin to bring your gaze to his.
“Scared.”
“I wish I could tell you not to be. I do want you to know that as long as I’m breathing you won’t leave here with him.” That doesn’t exactly make you feel better.
“He’s here already.” You whisper, “I can feel his eyes.” You could always feel when he was watching you, before you knew what he was you’d delighted on the way his brown eyed gaze had followed your every move. Later it had only filled you with dread.
“I’m going to kiss you. I’m going to kiss you then I’m going to tell you I have some work to do and to have fun and then I’m going to leave. You’re going to nod and smile like you don’t have a care in the world. Can you do that for me Bunny?” You nod and he gives you a soft smile, “Good girl.” He murmurs before pressing a kiss to your lips.
“I have some work to do, have fun.” He says stepping away from you and you force a smile onto your face as you nod in agreement. Then with one last look at you Steve turns and makes his way down the stairs. Bucky joins him at the bottom and they walk away but you know there are still several pairs of eyes on you.
It’s been two hours, or it feels like it’s been two hours, time seems to be crawling. You’re leaning against the railing, looking over the crowd from the vip section.
“Well, hello Princess.” His voice is cold and terror causes you to freeze. Crossbones. “Nice to see you. Let’s go.” You can’t seem to move, but since you’re gripping the railing so tightly your fingers are white you know he won’t get you without a fight. He grabs your arm from behind you and pulls but you don’t let go of the railing. “Bitch let’s go.” He sneers pulling your fingers off the railing.
“No.”
“No? You’re mine. You belong to me.”
“No.” You repeat, “I’ll never belong to you again!” The skin graft has healed nicely, you still hate the spot but are grateful for Steve for helping you get rid of it. Crossbones wraps a hand around your throat and he pulls you close to him.
“You don’t get to say no to me.” He sneers, his face is full of rage and you’re so fucking scared that you don’t know how you’re still standing.
He lifts a hand to strike you and you close your eyes but the hit never comes.
“Bad move Crossbones.” Steve says lowly and you risk opening your eyes. Steve has a gun pressed to Crossbones head which is why the hit never came. He’s smart enough to know one wrong move will end his life. “Not only did you come into my establishment but you put your hands on my woman. Falcon, Winter, you know what to do.” You can see the rage behind Steve’s eyes,
“Your woman?” Crossbones snarls as Bucky and Sam each grab one of his arms and start to haul him away from you. “That bitch belongs to me.”
“See that’s where you’re wrong. If she was truly yours you’d have protected her. You’d have cherished her. If anyone had laid a single finger on her you’d have made them feel the pain that they made her feel, then some. So no, she was never your woman. Every beating you gave her you’ll get. I should brand you like you did her.” Crossbones actually looks scared for a moment, you see fear flit across his face as Steve crosses to you and puts a hand on your lower back.
“What do you want me to do Bunny?” He asks, “I could make him feel your pain, over and over again. Like he did to you. Or I can end this.”
“I want it done Steve.” You whisper, you know what you’re giving him permission to do but you can’t think about it.
“You heard her boys.” Steve says and Sam and Bucky drag a fighting Crossbones away.
You turn and bury your face in Steve’s chest as his arms curl around you. You’re free. The moment that Crossbones stops breathing you’ll be free.
“Do you, do you have to do it yourself?” You ask softly and Steve hums.
“I should.”
“Then let’s go so you can get it over with. I won’t believe I’m free until it’s done.” You tell him and Steve presses another soft kiss to the side of your head.
“Okay Bunny.” He takes your hand and the two of you leave. You go back to his condo where he leaves you with a kiss on the back of your hand.
You shower, leave the tracker on the counter in the bathroom and change back into the clothes you wore to his office. How was that only last night?
When Steve comes back you’re sitting on the couch, curled over with your elbows resting on your knees and your head in your hands. He’s said that he’s going to let you go but you’ll just have to wait and see. You’ll be able to actually live now, use your real name and do what you wanted to.
“I’m gonna shower real quick Bunny.” He says when you stand from the couch. “Then we can talk.” You nod your head and sink back down onto the couch.
After his shower Steve comes back and sits on the couch next to you.
“It’s over.”
“Thank god.” You breathe dropping your head into your hands. It’s over. You’re finally free.
“I’d like to date you Bunny.” He says, “you’ve gotten under my skin and I need ya like I need air.” You stare at him before you answer, he’s not going to let you go. You knew it. You knew he wasn’t going to let you go. “I won’t force you Bunny but I needed you to know.”
“Oh.” You tell him, and while you know that he’d never hurt you, you know in your soul that he’d never hurt you, you’re still scared.
“Can I take you out?” He asks and you take a deep breath. He’s handsome, and has been kind and protected you. But you don’t want to be in this life anymore, and you don’t know if you like him because of Stockholm syndrome or if you actually like him.
“Do you wanna think about it?” He asks and you shake your head.
“No.”
“No you don’t wanna think about it or no I can’t take you out?”
“Both.” You tell him your gaze on the floor.
“Oh.” He sounds disappointed and your heart nearly breaks, “okay. Why don’t I have Bucky take you back to your apartment?”
“Thank you.” You say so softly you’re not sure he hears you. But Steve gently takes your hand, giving your hand a squeeze and you look up at him.
“I wouldn’t change a moment Bunny.” He says softly, “if you ever need anything you reach out okay?” You nod then he presses a kiss to the back of your hand then he stands and leaves the room.
here's a sneak peak of my mob!stucky x reader fic under the cut :)
“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.
