#mafia steve

Steve Rogers had faced down rivals, betrayed friends, and taken on entire organizations without blinking an eye, but nothing stirred the rage inside him like someone disrespecting Y/N. She was his world, the only person who could calm the storm that raged within him, and anyone who dared to insult her was making a grave mistake.

The day had started off simple enough. Steve and Y/N were out shopping, something she enjoyed doing when they had the rare chance to spend time together outside of his demanding, dangerous world. Steve usually didn’t care much for shopping, but he loved seeing her happy, so he tagged along, letting her lead him through the boutiques and stores.

They had wandered into an upscale shop, one of those places where the price tags were tucked discreetly out of view, and the salespeople looked down their noses at anyone who didn’t fit their idea of luxury. Steve noticed the way the saleswoman’s eyes skimmed over Y/N dismissively the moment they walked in, but he let it slide at first, thinking nothing of it.

Y/N, always gracious and polite, had picked out a few items to try on and asked the saleswoman for a dressing room. That’s when Steve caught the sneer on the woman’s face as she glanced at the clothes Y/N was holding, then at Y/N herself.

“If you ask me,” the saleswoman said, her voice dripping with condescension, “these are a bit too... sophisticated for someone so plain.”

The words hit Steve like a slap to the face, his vision narrowing to a tunnel focused solely on the woman who had just insulted his wife. Y/N’s expression faltered for a moment, her confidence wavering, and that was all it took for Steve’s protective instincts to surge to the surface, rage boiling over.

He stepped forward, his presence immediately commanding the room. The saleswoman, oblivious to the danger she was in, looked up, only to shrink back at the sight of Steve’s icy blue eyes locked onto her with a cold fury she’d never seen before.

“What did you just say?” Steve’s voice was dangerously low, each word a warning. He towered over her, every inch of him radiating a menace that made the air in the room feel thick and suffocating.

The woman’s confidence evaporated instantly, her face going pale as she realized who she was dealing with. “I-I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did,” Steve cut her off, his tone sharp as a blade. “You insulted my wife.” The words were laced with a promise of consequences that made the saleswoman tremble.

“Mr. Rogers, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—” she stammered, her voice shaking now as she took a step back.

But Steve wasn’t interested in her apologies. His focus was on Y/N, who was looking down at the clothes in her hands, clearly affected by the insult. He reached out, lifting her chin gently so she’d meet his gaze, his touch soft and reassuring, a stark contrast to the hard edge in his eyes.

“You are anything but plain, sweetheart,” Steve told her, his voice tender and full of conviction. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Y/N gave him a small, appreciative smile, but Steve wasn’t done. He turned back to the saleswoman, who was practically cowering now.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Steve said, his tone like steel. “You’re going to apologize to my wife. Then, you’re going to call your manager and tell them you’ve just lost one of their biggest customers.”

The woman opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She was too frightened to do anything but nod, her hands shaking as she hurriedly apologized to Y/N, stumbling over her words.

Steve’s glare didn’t waver until the woman finished, and then he added, “And if I ever hear of you—or anyone else in this store—treating her or any other customer like that again, you’ll wish you had never set foot in this place.”

The saleswoman could only nod again, her eyes wide with fear as Steve led Y/N out of the store, his arm protectively wrapped around her. As they stepped back onto the street, he glanced down at her, his expression softening.

“You okay?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Y/N nodded, leaning into him. “I’m fine. Thank you, Steve.”

He kissed the top of her head, his anger ebbing away now that she was in his arms. “No one talks to you like that. Not while I’m around.”

Y/N smiled up at him, warmth in her eyes. “I know. And I love you for it.”

The impact that woman had on him was so unexpected when he saw her dancing with her girlfriends at one of his clubs. She was more than just pretty; she was sexy even in a green sundress similar to the dresses he’d sworn he’d seen the ladies at church wear. She stood out—not because she wore such a modest dress, but because of the way said dress hugged her tits, hips, and the top of her ass; her curves just refused to be hidden away.

She didn’t seem like a regular club-goer, but she sure was having fun with her girls. She was laughing, waving her arms in the air, and swaying her hips. She wasn’t much of a dancer, but he loved watching her just the same. She jumped giggling when he lightly touched her hips from behind. She turned meeting his eyes, and she became quiet, her lips giving a hint of a smile.

It took him a bit longer than it should’ve to stop staring and lower his lips next to her ear to ask her to dance. Now, Steve Rogers does not ask girls to dance. No. He just grabs their hips and dances with them and they are usually all for it. No big deal. This girl was way too classy for that…in her twenty-dollar-Target-looking dress.

It was funny. She tried to appear so cool and confident--even though she gulped when his breath was on her skin when he asked her to dance--and she answered his question with a nonchalant shrug and a cute little smirk. Her breath hitched when he pulled her body close to his. He respected the effort. He was used to people trying to look tough around him. He liked catching her off guard. He liked feeling her shudder under his touch.

He made out with her in the VIP section while her friends ordered whatever they wanted a few feet away. He convinced her to go home with him before he got too riled up and had to have her sit on his dick right there and then. He’d told himself she’d just be a quick lay, but deep down he knew it was bullshit. Instead, he ended up spending the entire weekend in bed with her at his estate.

Steve had talked her into calling in sick that weekend, but he couldn’t convince her to quit her job so he’d be able to see her more. He’d promised to pay her bills for a whole fricking year, but she said she didn’t need a sugar daddy. He made sure to get Little Miss Independent’s number before dropping her off at her place. He didn’t last five fucking minutes before calling her about having dinner with him at one of his restaurants the following night. He had Bucky rearrange his schedule—it must’ve been a pain in the ass and he was sure he pissed off a few people, but Steve had to see her again.

He sent a nice blue, flowy chiffon dress to her apartment ahead of time for her to wear to the restaurant. He didn’t care what she wore, but he didn’t want her to feel out of place. He just knew what pricks rich people could be--even though none would dare openly insult any lady on Steve Rogers’ arm, especially in his own restaurant.

She actually thanked him for the dress because she didn’t have anything to wear to such a fancy place. He was relieved she didn’t feel insulted, and now he knew there were some gifts she’d accept from him. She was stunning and even turned a few heads making Steve both proud and irritated anyone would look at his lady. That’s right—his lady.

He had her talk about herself during dinner; he wanted to know everything about her. (They hadn’t done a lot of talking during their weekend together.) He’d also had Sam do a thorough background check on her, but the file was still in his office unread. It somehow felt wrong to read it just before their date—like it’d be invading her privacy or something. He’d also had Bucky follow her around to gather more information about her daily life and routine…and to make sure no one touched what was his.

When Steve asked her to dance, she reluctantly agreed warning him she wasn’t a good dancer. He knew; he didn’t care. “You looked pretty good dancing at my club last Friday,” he couldn’t help but tease. She actually blushed. He’d seen her naked for an entire weekend, but she was anxious about where to put her feet while she was covered up in some classy, flowy dress that highlighted all her curves? It was adorable.

Steve just wanted to hold her again, so dancing seemed like the logical solution. He didn’t want her to think he just wanted sex from her. He wanted her. He knew he was falling hard for her like some pathetic schmuck, but he just couldn’t bring himself to give a fuck.

He wanted all of her. It was cheesy, but he wanted to keep her deepest secrets, banish her insecurities and fears; he wanted her to tell him her hopes and dreams so he could make them come to life. He wanted everything. He wanted to give her everything.

She’d flinched when he put his hand on her hip. He smiled remembering how rough they’d been with each other that last weekend. She was probably still sore other places too. He had his own reminders--she actually drew blood during the many times her nails dug along his back during their time together.

With what she told him, and the information Sam and Bucky gathered, Steve learned that she lived with roommates she found online and worked as a waitress at one of those 24-hour diners. (He did not like the thought of her working overnight--vulnerable to shady customers). She’d been a foster kid who’d struggled a lot in school. He’d known foster kids growing up in his neighborhood, and Sam, a former counselor, confirmed it was common for foster kids to have their education “disrupted.” The fact that she was putting herself through college in her late twenties impressed Steve. She was tough and resilient, and he was so proud of her.

Steve also learned she volunteered with current foster kids, and she occasionally worked at a homeless soup kitchen. He couldn’t believe how fucking pure she was! She was definitely too good for him. He almost felt guilty for dragging her into his world. Almost. As much as he admired and respected her, he was a selfish bastard and there was no way he was going to let her go. She belonged to him now.

The thought of not coming home to her every night after a long day of making deals, busting skulls, reining in hotheads and bribing politicians then waking up next to her and making love to her every morning and do the whole thing over again solidified his decision. There was no way he was going to deprive himself of her sweet comfort.

He’d have to limit her excursions and have a bodyguard with her at all times—maybe Romanoff or Belova or both--he had to protect his girl. He was happy to let her continue some of her volunteering on top of letting her finish school since both were so important to her. That way she’d have a life outside their home—he was nice like that.

Steve would have to be patient and understanding with her. She’d be in shock from the sudden move to his house and his world. Yes, her movements would be limited because of how dangerous his world was, but she’d also want for nothing—all she’d have to do is snap her pretty little fingers and he’d fetch whatever she wanted like a goddamn golden retriever.

He’d give her her dream wedding even if it took months to plan—if it was up to him, they’d get married at the court house that very day. He was even willing to wait until she finished her degree before getting her pregnant. (She'd be such a good mother!) He was nice like that. She was a smart girl; she’d adjust eventually and he’d be with her every step of the way.

Steve doesn’t appreciate the way the brunet eyes up his woman, but he knows she’d never dare tread down that road. He’s taught her better than that.

She knows it.

She knows full well that her fiance has his eyes on the interaction. She knows he hates it, but he won’t cause a fuss. Not here. Not to a man like James Barnes.

James can feel Steve’s eyes on him as he gives the woman a wanton stare, but he doesn’t change his stance.

“I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” The brunet offers, (Y/N) smiling and hoping her red in her cheeks isn’t as obvious to see as it feels.

“Likewise, Mister Barnes.”

“Please, call me James.”

The rest of the evening Steve kept her locked at his hip whilst he talked to endless amounts of clients and frienemies. She always finds these events boring and would much rather be in the comfort of her own home, reading some books that send her imagination wild, but she can’t complain. Steve spoils her and gives her a more than valuable life to live.

She’s grateful, truly, but he expects her to obey his every beck and call in response.

That’s the exhausting part.

“Am I alright to nip to the bathroom quickly, my love?” She asks, quietly, as he’s mid discussion.

“Be quick.” Is all she gets in response.

She doesn’t need the bathroom. Not really. It’s just her only chance of a break. A few minutes to breathe.

She readjusts the clips in her hair to make sure she doesn’t look too messy - knowing that Steve will punish her if she brings his reputation down by even an ounce. Stares in the bathroom mirrors and takes some deep breaths in an attempt to keep herself calm.

It’s almost cliche the way she stumbles into the man as she exits the bathroom to rejoin her fiance once more.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry…” The woman trails off as she looks up at the person she’s stumbled into, getting lost in those familiar ocean-blue eyes once more. “James- Mister Barnes, sorry, I’m so sorry, how clumsy of me.”

“Shh, sweetheart, don’t worry about it - no harm done.” James shushes, helping the woman stand upright once more. “Are you hurt anywhere?” He asks, watching her worried eyes.

Her head shakes.

“No, no, thank you. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

James furrows his brows at the amount of fear the woman has over simply stumbling into him.

“Sweetheart, no one’s going to punish you for accidentally stumbling.” He offers, watching her attempt a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, I know, of course, was just silly of me.”

They both stand in silence for a good few seconds before she meets his gaze once more.

“I should be getting back to Steve, he’ll be looking for me. I hope you have a good rest of your evening, Mister Barnes, and apologies again.” She doesn’t give him the time of day to respond before walking off to find her fiance in the crowd of people.

James doesn’t take his eyes off of the woman until she’s truly out of sight, a number of questions running through his head. The main one being: just where did Steve find a woman like her?

ii.

The second time they met was just over a year later. It was the birthday party of a mutual friend: Tony Stark.

King of the Underworld. That’s what he was known as to people like James and Steve. The mafia.

(Y/N) was following her fiance around the event, bound to his hip, as per usual, but remembers making eye contact with James as he was standing on the balcony, taking a drag from a cigarette. The doors to the balcony were wide open, he was leaning against the wall outside, smirking as they locked their gazes on one another.

The woman gulps but can’t help the smile that etches onto her lips. He flashes her a wink which prompts her smirk to morph into a grin, looking down at the floor and shaking her head.

She feels like she’s in high school. It’s a pleasant feeling.

She meets his gaze again, that self-satisfied smile still resting on his face.

His lips move and she recognises him asking if she’s okay. She nods before tilting her head and returning the question. The way his tongue darts out and strokes his lips is enough to make her belly flutter. And maybe other regions. He nods.

Steve asks her a question which distracts her momentarily before his attention returns to the conversation and hers back to the gorgeous man standing outside with the midnight backdrop behind him.

It’s almost awkward how long they’re simply staring at one another for, James continuing to finish his cigarette, but it drastically changes when the echo of a gunshot goes off.

(Y/N)’s eyes widen and she screams without thinking. James’ eyes also widen as he flicks his cigarette off of the edge of the balcony, sprinting inside to see what’s going on.

Steve’s arms wrap around the woman in his arms, immediately eyeing up the whole room for the source of the sound.

Her hands grip onto her lover, hiding her face as she feels him tense up.

“We’re gonna get out of here, okay, honey?” He mutters, (Y/N) nodding desperately. “Stay close to me.”

She doesn’t acknowledge her surroundings as her fiance leads her out of the large building, more gunshots being fired which make her flinch.

It’s not the first time she’s been around gunfire - comes with being in a relationship with a man like Steven Rogers - but it never gets any less scary.

“Keep going down this corridor, through the double doors, then left, left, right, okay? I’ll be out as soon as I can.” Steve’s voice is the last thing she hears before she watches the man sprint away from her.

“Wait…” Her eyes are wide as she’s left alone in the corridor.

Her arms wrapping around herself does nothing to help reduce her trembling.

Gulping, the woman turns and continues pacing down the corridor, praying she’ll get out of this manor quickly.

“Double doors, left, left, right. Double doors, left, left, right,” She recites the directions under her breath as she follows the crimson carpet.

Hell, it feels like she’s in a palace.

“Hey!” A voice calls, her eyes widening and head snapping to her left, where the voice came from.

There’s a corridor with a man striding toward her, gun raised and ready to be fired.

“Where are you headed!?”

She’s speechless. She can’t find her voice.

Is this it? This is how she dies?

“I ASKED YOU A QUE-” The man is cut off as a gun fires, another yelp escaping her throat, jumping backwards on instinct. His body drops to the ground, another man appearing behind him, but she recognises this one.

“James…”

The brunet’s brows furrow as he sees Steve’s fiancee. Alone.

“Where’s Rogers?” He asks, voice serious and face tense. Nothing like the careless smiles they were offering one another minutes earlier.

“He- I- He went-” (Y/N) stumbles over her words as she points behind her. “He just went off, told me to get out.”

“You’re alone?” James confirms, watching her nod, eyes fearful as she stares up at him.

He’s fully approached her now, looking up and down the corridor she’s stood in.

“Why the fuck did he leave you alone?” He asks, genuinely confused. And pissed.

Her mouth moves but no words come out. She shrugs.

“Come on.” The man takes her hand, continuing their path to the exit. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

The words hit her with a sense of deja vu, remembering the time she stumbled into him like it was yesterday.

She shakes her head but realises he can’t see.

“No.”

He doesn’t respond.

They sneak out of a side door, Bucky walking over to someone he clearly knows.

“Sam, get this lady home safe, she lives with Rogers.”

“Yes, sir.” The man, Sam, responds, nodding his head.

“This is Sam, my driver, he’ll get you out of here safe, okay? Trust him with your life.” James tells her woman, a crowd full of noise happening all around them.

“James, what’s happening?”

“Don’t worry about it now, okay? You’ve just gotta get home safe. I’ve gotta get back in there, I’m sorry. Be careful, sweetheart.” He presses a chaste kiss to her cheek, nodding once more at Sam, before heading back into the warzone.

“This way, madam.”

iii.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

The applause in the room was loud as the man she loves kissed her.

She does love him.

Right?

The wedding truly was wonderful. It was like a fairytale. Steve let her design pretty much all of it. He’s an angel in that sense.

Or he just didn’t care and couldn’t be bothered as long as the paper was signed that deemed her as his property.

The music was joyful, the atmosphere was pleasant, the guests were lovely.

The mood was happy.

For a little while.

“Well, well, well, I didn’t think I’d find the woman of the night hiding out here.”

The voice startles her as she’s leaning against the balcony of the gorgeous building that’s hosting their reception.

“Mister Barnes.”

“Mrs Rogers.”

The words make her shiver.

She wanted to keep her own surname, or at least make it double-barrelled, but Steve was having none of it.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” She asks, staring out at the sunset.

“It’s a pleasant evening; how about you? It’s your special day after all.”

She attempts a small life but it comes out as a mere breath.

“Yeah, it’s been a really nice day. Steve let me organise and design everything so I’m glad it’s my dream day, or whatever.”

“You did a really good job - it’s truly beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

They fall into silence, James asking if he can have a cigarette which she says yes to.

“I never got to thank you for getting me out of Stark’s place that time.”

“No need to thank me, sweetheart, I simply did what he should’ve done.”

The woman sighs.

“Can I take a drag?” She asks, not looking at the man once as he furrows his brows at her.

“You sure?”

She nods, the man handing her the rest of the toxic stick.

“You’re not happy.” It’s not a question so she chooses not to respond. “Why don’t you leave?”

“I’m very lucky to live the life that Steve has provided me with. Before Steve I had nothing. I was nothing.”

“But were you happy?”

She gulps and inhales the last hit of the cigarette before flicking it away.

“I’m going to head back inside; if I don’t see you before the night is over, thank you for coming, James.” She offers him a warm smile before walking back toward the building, eyes widening when the man grabs her wrist.

There’s nothing violent about the gesture. In fact, the hold he has is rather loose and she could probably shake him off if she wanted to.

“You should be happy, (Y/N).”

She pauses as she eyes up the seriousness in his voice.

“I am.” She then does shake him off and walks back inside, hating the desire coursing through her to turn around and press her God damn lips to the man who cares about her more than her bastard husband ever could.

That was possibly one of the most fatal mistakes she ever made.

And the last time she saw James Barnes for three years.

iv.

Cut to the present day. A regular day. Well, almost.

It was going pretty well until the explosion went off.

(Y/N) wasn’t even sure where her husband had brought her. They’re in the middle of no where. Said he needed to get something work related and that she needed to come with him.

She didn’t question it.

She never does.

All she can think about now though is trying to remember how to fucking breathe. There’s flames all around her. Smoke filling up every corner of the room she’s in.

Steve left her there. Told her it’ll keep her safe.

He always was a fucking liar.

He even locked the door so she wouldn’t get hurt.

How sentimental.

The windows are small.

It’s an old storage room, maybe? She doesn’t know.

She’s sat on the floor, an old cloth she found covering her mouth in an attempt to stop the smoke filling her lungs any quicker.

Her back is to the door, banging on it and screaming for help.

She knows it’s useless but she would never go down without a fight.

That’s one trait that Steve admired in her. She can see why now.

She lays down, trying to keep her eyes open. Not because she wants to but so she doesn’t feel like she’s really giving up. But she’s done. She’s so very done with this life now. It was fun, but now it’s over.

“IS ANYONE DOWN HERE!?” She didn’t expect to hear another voice but it kickstarts her to keep fighting.

“Hello!” Her voice is barely a scratch.

Leaning up, she bangs on the door again, using the last of her strength to do so as the windows around her shatter with the room’s combustion.

“IS SOMEONE IN THERE!?”

She keeps banging.

“GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR!”

She does. Barely. Rolls over slightly.

The wood is kicked in, having taken a surprisingly long time to burn.

“Holy fuck, (Y/N)!”

Wait.

James?

“What the fuck did he do to you!?” The man’s eyes are wide with panic but he works rapidly to lift the woman into his arms, bridal style, and start sprinting out of the burning building.

James and Steve ended up rivals at some point last year and they were constantly trying to corrupt one another. Steve warned his wife to make sure she never had anything to do with Barnes again. She simply nodded although disappointed.

Steve planned on tearing every one of Barnes’ staff to the ground. Wanted to watch the man suffer. He didn’t expect the brunet to have a big, shiny, ‘do not press’ red button under his radar that blew up his entire HQ.

James knew that Steve was rash and impulsive with making catastrophic messes. He always hated that about the blond. James was calm and tactile in his movements toward enemies.

He was running through each floor of his building to make sure all of his staff were out, not having expected the wife of the asshole to be trapped in one of his own rooms.

“Sweetheart, I can’t let you go back to him. He’s lost his fucking mind, he’s gonna hurt you. I need you to trust me.” He manages between desperate breaths as the smoke continues to follow them through the halls of his home.

Her eyes are barely open but manages to nod as he occasionally looks down to check she’s still awake.

“I trust you.”

Her head lolls, chest getting tighter with every passing breath.

“Try keep those eyes open for me, (Y/N). I’m gonna get you outta here, I promise.”

Another jagged nod, but she doesn’t follow through with it as her eyes close and mind falls blank.

///

A groan rumbles in the woman’s throat as she stirs awake. Brows furrowing immediately as she fails to recognise her surroundings.

“What the hell?”

“You’re awake.” A voice greets, her eyes looking across the room where none other than James Barnes stands, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“You watching me while I sleep? Kinda creepy if you ask me, Barnes.” She manages, closing her eyes once more and taking a deep breath.

The man snickers and shakes his head.

“Foul mouth on you, sweetheart.”

She simply hums in response.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Really fucking tired.”

“I bet. You nearly didn’t make it.”

The woman sighs.

“Bet he’d have liked that.”

“He’s a fucking asshole.”

“Where is he?”

“Far away from you.”

With another sigh, (Y/N) meets James’ stare once more.

“What do I do?”

The man smirks and strides over to the bed she’s laid in, her not having even noticed yet that it’s his.

“Let me take care of you better than he ever could.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

He grins. She reciprocates it.

“That’s me, sweetheart.”

TAG LIST

Everything Tag List: @nosoulnoproblems | @rileyloves5  | @girl-who-loves-mythology | @avngrsinitiative | @lookinsidemyhead |@xbabykookiix | @myspectacularfantasies | @fanfic-anyone | @rororo06 | @queenofbuskers | @vapingisntmything | @tony-stank3 | @hermione-grangers-wife | @lili-ann-love | @the-omni-princess | @tayahs-blog | @regulus-black | @saturnsteverogers| @fyfiexo | @amazingiam00 | @deviltownn | @buckybarneses | @fafulous | roryshitposts | trynnabemultifandom | @moodboreddd | @hopingforbarnes | @an-adventureland | justassaneasiam-ll | @profoundllamanickeleggs | @xbongox | @minetticatinwonderland | @thinkaboutmara | @xxaestheticboyxx | @sparklycollectionofoldmemes | @wandaneedstherapy | @georgiadixon | @nerdy-thespian-10 | @nsb-supertrio | @thinkaboutmara | @captainamerica-is-bae | @spookyparadisesheep | @supernaturallover2002 | @notsochillnerd | @peggycarter-steverogers | @reann-shitposting | @buckybarnesplumwhore | @mrsstevenbuchananstark | @ynscrazylife | @jessromanoff | @holsj2411 | @alluringshawn | @helen-with-an-a | @dreamlessinparis |

Pulling yourself out of your brief reverie, though, you steadied your stance and threw it at the target on the wall, the point sticking just outside the concentric circles on the small pine backboard downrange.

You groaned, brushing the hair back out of your face with both hands and turning around to the instructor behind you. She laughed and shrugged.

“Might not be a bullseye, but you’re getting there. Your technique is much better. Now that you know what you’re doing, why don’t I get you a few more of those so you don’t have to keep walking to get it? And don’t worry, we’ll make sure to mark which knives are which so you don’t lose yours.”

You blew out a breath and put your hands on your hips, nodding while you paced in the narrow, yet long private room. One of a 24-hour shooting range you’d found not too far from your work that some of the cops would visit often to keep up on their skills.

“Yeah, that’s good. Thanks, Becca.”

She smiled. “No problem.”

Steve stood behind his office chair staring at the surveillance footage that played on his laptop screen as he continued to button his black dress shirt, fingers nimbly moving as they had thousands of times to help him get dressed. He slung the silk tie around his neck, expertly knotting it without even looking, his gaze avoiding the two penetrating ones from his friends perched on either side of the mahogany work surface, watching the scene with him.

“You know, she’s getting pretty good at that. Can at least hit near the target on purpose now.”

Steve finally tore his eyes from the screen to scowl at Sam but was quickly redirected by Bucky.

“Yeah, she is. She’s also draining our buddy’s pockets. You’re gonna go broke, punk.”

Steve met Bucky’s amused face with a stern look. “Good. I deserve to after all that I did to her. All the money in the world couldn’t properly fix it, but I hope she knows I’m sorry and will come around. I can wait.”

Bucky snorted, “Yeah, but your wallet can’t.”

Steve sighed, shrugging on his suit jacket and straightening out the lapels. “Bucky, she hasn’t purposely used any of my money. As far as she knows, she’s on a free trial at the range, and she’ll get billed at the end of the month. I can deal with it all then, and even so, I can afford to take that hit financially. Plus, she hasn’t used my card or been in one of the restaurants or shops a single time. But even if she had been draining my funds, would you not do the same for Bee?”

Steve’s best friend straightened up at that, his hand brushing contemplatively over the stubble on his face.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Just….don’t beat yourself up too much on this, alright?”

Steve gave no response as he adjusted his cufflinks.

Your arms shot up in the air in a silent cheer, commemorating a DNA match for the nearly unsolvable case that you and Scott had been working. As you spun around, finally lifting your eyes from your workbench, you caught a glimpse of the precinct through the cracks of the blinds in your window. The natural light that usually bounced across the white walls was long gone, meaning the sun had set. And you’d gotten in today before the sunrise. And now that you thought about it, you hadn’t eaten, either. As if on cue, your stomach grumbled and suddenly all you could think about was your next meal.

Not having eaten all day wasn’t entirely true. There was that one candy bar you had grabbed off Scott’s desk, but that was at the beginning of his shift, and he was long gone by now.

In fact, most of the detectives were gone, leaving a skeleton night crew and the other new forensic scientist sitting at his desk, passing time with a game of Tetris. No one worth asking to join you for a celebratory meal was left, so you guessed that meant dinner alone, yet again. Which was….fine. Everything was fine right now, because it needed to be, you needed to be. But perhaps you could get some good food in your system that was a little more than fine. You deserved it. Your work maintained quality and it was almost like your personal life hadn’t affected it at all.

You’d never been to this restaurant before, despite its proximity to your apartment, but you’d heard good reviews. It was only a short walk away, too, which was nice, because there was no way you were going to be fit to drive home after the way you needed to decompress.

As you came up to the glass doors and reached for the large wooden handle, the first thing you noticed was just how sharp and modern everything looked, yet somehow homey. Familiarity floated through the space just like the glow of the soft yellow lighting from strands of bulb lights that bounced off of the dark wood detailing and painted brick walls. The place was buzzing already, filled with a happy hour crowd, picking at tapas and upscale drinks, which sounded and smelled so good to your borderline hangry mind.

The bar was only about half full, luckily, giving you plenty of room to separate yourself from others as you slid onto one of the tall stools, arms reaching across the cool marble counter to grab the menu that a redhead was handing you. She gave a small smile, telling you she’d be back in a second as she served a couple of drinks to a waitress at the other end.

She made her way back over to you, eyes sparkling as a smirk tugged at the corner of her lip.

“Can I get you started with something?”

You clicked your tongue looking over the menu, seeing so many different wines, none of which strong enough for what you were feeling right now.

“What’s good? And….celebratory?”

She shrugged, tilting her head to look at the menu with you.

“Well, we’re known for our wines…” she looked up and met your eyes, “but you look like you need something better than that.”

She pushed her way back from the bar, turning around and reaching under the counter to pull out a stool.

“Now, the chef doesn’t love that I do this. Says it ‘doesn’t match with the Spanish theme,’ but no one can really argue….”

She reached for a bottle on the top shelf, climbed back down and set a glass in front of you, pouring the clear, yellow-tinted liquid while sliding a lime onto the rim.

“When it’s just so luxurious. Double shot of tequila. This one’s on the house, but I suggest you order something to eat with it. It’s gonna hit harder than you expect.”

You nodded, grabbing the glass and pulling it towards yourself. The volatile liquid pleasantly tickled your nose hairs. Whew.

“Good idea. Thanks…” you looked for a name tag, met with a blank, black shirt. She returned to you from setting the bottle back behind the bar and fished your sentence. “Nat.”

“Nat. Thank you, Nat.”

Four drinks in and six small dish plates piled to the side of you, your words were starting to slur together. The empty pit that had been chipping at your insides was almost fully filled again, from warm food and the action of the tequila. Almost.

With a final bite waving around in your hand, you caught the bartender’s attention as she switched your short-rimmed drink glass with a tall one of water.

Your lips inched themselves over the straw and you took a big sip before popping the final bite in your mouth.

The cold water running down your throat had you blinking into a little alertness when you swallowed, Nat’s bright eyes locking in on you.

“Everything okay?”

You rolled your eyes and blew out a breath that morphed into a dry chuckle, not wanting to directly answer her inquiry.

“You ever been in love, Nat? Or…. I guess… in… like?”

She shrugged with a light laugh, her smirk tugging the corner of her lip upwards once again. “Yeah, I’ve got a guy.”

“What’s his name?” You passed the glass back and forth between your fingertips, eyes not straying too far from the fancy bar top.

“Depends. We talking best friend type of love or romantic? Because I’d give you two different names.”

You nodded, taking another sip before you looked at yourself in the mirror that sat behind the liquor shelves over her shoulder. You looked tired. “Yeah, I get that. I feel like I was almost getting somewhere with the second one, but now sometimes I feel like I have neither. Everything has changed. Both were liars. But is it wrong if I still care? That I don’t want them to just…be out of my life even though I’m actively distancing myself?”

She set the glass she was drying down on the counter and looked you in the eyes. “I’d say it would be wrong if you didn’t care. Lying sucks, but sometimes it’s necessary to protect the ones we love the most. And I’m sure they still love you. Some part of you deep, deep down knows that. Everyone’s got their reasons.”

You grumbled a little at that. “Sounds like something a liar would say….” She shrugged, then urged you to continue. “But yeah, they’ve been reaching out a little, but… I don’t know. I don’t want to crumble so easily. I can handle this by myself, ya know? But somehow, everything that I’m putting so much focus on right now is still unsteady. I’m feeling like the opposite of Midas with all of this. I’m…ssssidam.”

She laughed. “Well, Sidam. Sometimes we know what we want, even when we try to fight it by putting focus somewhere else. Sometimes it’s right in front of our face, and sometimes we have to search for it. But what I’ll say is that anything that falls in our laps is a blessing. Shouldn’t be taken lightly if it works that well. The core of a relationship is the biggest thing. How you are with that person when it’s just the two of you. Away from the rest of the world. All those other bits are secondary. They can be ironed out later.”

You heeded her words, but honestly, they were just too truthful for you right now. Sure, you’d thought of ideas similar to those, but never dared to say them out loud. Before you could gather your thoughts enough to respond, though, you heard a commotion behind you. Someone had walked through the restaurant door, garnering some attention. You heard requests for autographs and pictures. Only a few, though, before it quickly died down and the there was a presence next to you. Directly next to you. In a bar with several empty seats. Weird.

You looked up, straight ahead at the mirror that backed the shelves of liquor of the bar. Who was right at your side? Someone it seemed everyone you grew up around was trying to shove you towards for as long as you could remember, even your own parents: Lucas Bell.

He turned his head and smiled at you as you continued to glare at his reflection, remaining silent. With a sigh, you finally turned your body to face his.

His overly white smile gleamed at you as he said your name.

“Fancy meeting you here! I wasn’t sure if you got my flowers. You didn’t say anything. I’ve been hoping we could meet up.”

You unsuccessfully fought the urge to roll your eyes as you took another sip of your water.

“Listen, Lucas. That was nice and all, but I’m going through a time, okay? I really don’t have the patience for you, for this, right now.”

His lips closed, hiding his teeth, but he continued to grin, nonetheless.

“I have the patience for you, though. That’s gotta count for something. Misery loves company, right?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion at his relentlessness. Was your face not as aversive as it used to be? The tequila must’ve been messing with your rbf muscles.

“I don’t think this is what the saying meant.”

You pointed between the two of you, and he just shrugged.

Before you could open your mouth to further tell him off, though, he held up a finger as he knocked on the bar for Nat’s attention. She turned around, looking at him with a raised brow, but not saying anything.

“I’ve got an order for Bell. I called ahead.”

He turned back to you and sighed.

“Anyway, what I wanted to do was ask you to dinner. You and I have known each other so long. Don’t you think that we would look great together, too? Both of us, taking care of the city in our own ways. A power couple!”

For a second, bile began to rise up in your throat, and you weren’t sure if it was from the sight of his fake tan that was really popping to you now, the offer, his floral cologne, or the several double shots you’d consumed. But everything was so screwed up, that you didn’t think it could get any worse. Maybe your mom really was right, and this was worth a shot. So before that idea could even get vetted by any hint of higher-level functioning, the words tumbled out of your mouth.

“You know what? Sure. Yeah, whatever. When do you want, this weekend?”

He winced, yet his face still seemed like it was trying to be performatively handsome. One shouldn’t have to try that hard. “No can do. I anchor the evening news on the weekends. I’ve got availability Monday evening, though. I can pick you up after work. It’ll be nice, yeah?”

You opened your mouth to answer but before you even got a word out, Nat was returning with his to-go bag and his phone was ringing. He scrambled to answer it.

In seconds, he was already walking backwards towards the door, phone pressed up to his ear. “Duty calls. Gotta go catch this story. But I’ll see you then!”

You rolled your eyes at the whole thing before resting them on the heels of your palms. When you finally sat up again, you signaled Nat to bring another drink.

As soon as you downed the last shot of what likely should’ve been a sipping tequila, you checked your watch, and groaned, dreading the next day that you’d have to go into work. When you looked up to ask for the bill, it was like Nat apparated before you.

“So what was that about? Hot date?”

You scoffed while opening up your wallet and setting your card down on the receipt. “I don’t know about hot, but yeah. It would seem like a date.”

She looked down at where you placed the plastic and shook her head. “We can’t accept that card, got another?”

You sighed, sifting through to find another, but before you could pull it out, she piped up again, “Nope. Not that one, either. One more try. What’s that black one?”

You looked up at her through your eyelashes, questioning how keen her sight was and if that really was the only option. She urged you on, holding out her hand as you tentatively handed over Steve’s black card and watched her go back to the billing station where a waitress, a blonde who had been passing through all night, was leaning.

You watched as they exchanged words before the blond began strutting over to you. Her hair was braided in a crown around her head, the occasional strand framing her face that held a similar smirk to Nat’s. She began shuffling and organizing the well of the bar before she spoke to you.

“Heard you’ve got a date. Does this mean Steve finally got the courage to make an actual move?”

At that, your eyes went wide, and so did Nat’s. You had never mentioned Steve this whole night. You made sure of it. She rushed over to you, shoving the blond out of the way with a deadly side eye. “You’ll have to excuse my sister. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

You laughed dryly, grabbing the check from her hands. “Sure she does. It all makes a lot of sense now. The atmosphere, your constant checking in on me.”

She nodded. “And we’ve been instructed to not take your money.”

“Yup. That, too,” you breathed out as you signed the check and slid it back to her. “Well, thanks for at least a few hours away from everything.”

Without lifting your head, you slipped your wallet away and slid off the stool, heading straight for the door to go back to your apartment. Nat stood there watching you with the intent to later ensure that you got home safely. She looked at the check in her hands and the black ink scrawled on it: your attempt at Steve’s signature and a 300% tip.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Meet Number Four (and Yelena)