#mob!stucky

You’re very touchable.

Steve Rogers learns that first.

You meet him at a charity gala in Manhattan, the kind with crystal chandeliers and men who smile like sharks. You’re draped in silk, diamond earrings catching the light every time you laugh, surrounded by publicists and security and people who want something from you.

Steve doesn’t want anything.

That’s what catches your attention.

He’s tall, broad-shouldered, impeccably dressed but clearly uncomfortable in a room where everyone is pretending. He watches everything with calm blue eyes, not in awe, not hungry—just assessing. Like he’s counting exits. Like he’s making sure nothing bad happens on his watch.

You catch him staring once. He looks away immediately, polite, almost shy.

You smile at him anyway.

James Barnes is harder to miss.

Where Steve is restraint, Bucky is indulgence. He leans against a marble column like he owns the building, dark hair brushed back, expensive suit tailored to a body built for violence. His gaze slides over the room and then locks onto you with unapologetic interest.

He doesn’t look away.

He smirks.

You feel it like a hook in your ribs.

Later, when introductions are made, you learn their names. You learn they’re donors. You learn they’re private investors. You learn just enough to know there’s money, old and dangerous money, wrapped around them like a second skin.

What you don’t learn is that they already know everything about you.

Your favorite wine. The diner you sneak to at 2 a.m. when you don’t want to be recognized. The security flaws in your penthouse. The stalker your team paid off quietly last year. The producer who tried to corner you and mysteriously vanished from the industry two weeks later.

They’ve been watching for a while.

Not in a creepy way, Steve insists later. Protective. Strategic.

Bucky doesn’t bother justifying it.

“You’re a walking target,” he says one night, months into whatever this is, fingers tracing idle patterns on your thigh as you sit between them in Steve’s townhouse. “And we don’t like sharing.”

Your fans lose their minds when the relationship becomes public.

It starts with grainy photos—Bucky’s hand on the small of your back outside a restaurant, Steve opening a car door for you with old-fashioned reverence. Then clearer shots. Then a paparazzi video of you laughing as Bucky murmurs something in your ear, Steve’s arm around your shoulders like a shield.

The internet explodes.

IS THIS A DARK ROMANCE?? SHE WON. SHE ACTUALLY WON. THEY WOULD KILL FOR HER AND YOU KNOW IT.

They’re not wrong.

Your fandom eats it up. The edits. The theories. The slow-motion clips set to your own songs. Comment sections filled with half-jokes about you being protected by the mafia now, about anyone who wrongs you needing to watch their back.

You never confirm anything.

You just smile. Just keep writing music that sounds sharper. Meaner. More powerful.

Behind closed doors, it’s quieter. Intimate in a way the world never sees.

Steve kisses you like you’re something precious, hands steady, reverent, as if loving you is an act of devotion. He checks your locks every night. Walks you to every door. Memorizes your schedule better than your assistant does.

Bucky loves you like fire.

Possessive hands. Hungry kisses. A temper that flares hot and fast when anyone disrespects you. He loves that you’re powerful, that you don’t shrink, that you look men dead in the eye and dare them to underestimate you.

He also loves that you come home to them.

The first time someone threatens you openly, it’s at an awards show.

A man grabs your wrist as you’re leaving the stage, says something ugly about what you “owe” people who made you famous. Security moves in seconds—but Steve is already there, hand closing around the man’s collar, voice low and lethal.

Bucky doesn’t touch him.

That’s worse.

The man disappears from public life within a week. No charges. No headlines. Just… gone.

Your fans notice.

They always notice.

DID ANYONE ELSE REALIZE THAT GUY VANISHED?? TELL ME AGAIN HOW HER BOYFRIENDS AREN’T MOB BOSSES. AS THEY SHOULD.

You confront them that night.

Steve is honest. He always is.

“We won’t apologize for keeping you safe,” he says gently, cupping your face. “But we won’t do anything you don’t want.”

Bucky watches you closely, jaw tight. “Say the word, doll. We’ll stop.”

You think about the years of being afraid. Of swallowing disrespect. Of smiling through threats and manipulation because you were told it was the price of fame.

You lean in and kiss them both.

“Just don’t let it touch my work,” you say softly. “The rest… I trust you.”

That trust is everything.

They don’t cage you. They don’t dim you. They stand behind you while you burn brighter than ever. They sit in the shadows at your shows, eyes scanning crowds while you command eighty thousand people with a microphone and a heartbeat.

And if someone crosses a line?

States don’t burn.

But careers do. Bank accounts vanish. Power shifts quietly, efficiently, without ever touching your hands.

Your next album breaks records.

Critics call it fearless. Fans call it unhinged. You call it honest.

There’s a lyric everyone fixates on:

If you hurt me, they’ll come for you Not with noise, but with silence And you’ll never know who pulled the strings.

Steve hears it from the kitchen and smiles softly.

Bucky laughs, low and dangerous, and pulls you into his lap.

The world thinks you’re living a fantasy.

A dark romance.

A pop princess protected by monsters who adore her.

They have no idea how real it is.

You had your own bedroom, painted your favorite color with a big comfy bed and lots of blankets. Shelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with stuffies and toys, as well as your ever expanding collection of little gear. The closet doors almost couldn’t close over the amount of both practical clothing and dress up costumes you had. Despite all this, however, your bedroom was not your favorite room in the house. It’s not that you weren’t thankful or that you didn’t like it - you loved it after all! But if you got to choose, you’d spend every moment you could in Steve and Bucky’s room, engulfed in their scent and aura. 

That's where you found yourself on this particular night, one hand tangled up in Bucky’s fingers, the other around your stuffy. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep there, only meaning to get some evening cuddles while Bucky read his book, but when your eyes started to feel heavy, you didn’t fight it. Your mouth hung open, having fallen asleep without a paci, and Bucky didn’t want to risk waking you by getting up to get you one. Besides, Steve would be home any minute now, and not only could he go retrieve a pacifier for you, but would also get the treat of seeing you curled up with Bucky. He needed it after the day he’d had. 

Bucky heard Steve unlock the door and hoped he’d enter quietly, but when the closing of the door was followed by a harshly whispered curse word, Bucky immediately knew something was wrong. He heard Steve climb the stairs, two or three at a time, as fast as he could towards the bedroom. Steve didn’t even have time to take in the adorable sight in front of him, nor Bucky the time to ask Steve what was wrong. Steve scooped you up as gently as he could, hoping not to wake you. If the change in position didn’t wake you, he feared his rapid heartbeat or the quake in his voice would.

“Someone’s in the house.” He said quietly, hoping to convey the urgency of the situation to Bucky as quickly as possible. “We need to get her to the safe room now.”

Bucky nodded, immediately getting up out of bed and crossing the room to the closet where he kept some weapons. 

“You take her, keep her calm. I’ll take care of this.” Bucky said in his stubborn way.

“No, they already know I’m here, they don’t need to know anyone else is home.” Steve replied, trying to hand you to Bucky.

“I’m not letting you face this alone.”

“We can’t leave her alone!” Steve countered, knowing Bucky couldn’t argue with that.

Bucky took you from Steve’s arms, grateful that you hadn’t woken up in all the commotion yet.

Then a crash came from downstairs. Your face scrunched up as you debated whether the noise was worth waking up over, but another curse word from Steve’s lips made your eyes shoot open. 

“Daddy what?” You muttered, voice heavy with sleep. 

“Shhh angel, everything’s alright,” Steve whispered to you, “just go back to sleep babydoll.” 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging onto him as the commotion downstairs continued.

“Daddy what’s goin on?!” You cried, starting to panic.

Bucky and Steve exchanged a glance.

“Take her. I’ve got this.” Bucky said, coldly and quietly so as to express his urgency to Steve without scaring you further. Steve nodded as Bucky got dressed, hiding a gun in his waistband.

“Hey honeybear, we’re gonna go on a little late night adventure, okay? But you gotta stay really quiet and be a good girl for Daddy, alright?”

You knew Steve well enough to know that he was trying his hardest. Even though he protected you from the truth, the big part of your brain knew that your daddies dealt with dangerous people. Even though they kept their business as far from you, their little girl, as they could, you still noticed every time one of them came home with a black eye or blood on their shoe. You learned it was best not to question it. And even though Steve focused every cell in his body to keep you calm, you knew even in your sleepy little state that whatever was going on was very, very bad. 

You stayed quiet, just as Steve commanded, but you couldn’t stop the tears filling your eyes and dripping down your face. You were too scared to even sniffle as Steve ran through the halls of your big house, pressing you into his chest so hard it almost hurt. Steve stopped at a bookshelf, in which room you couldn’t tell as all the lights in the home had been turned off. He checked his surroundings to make sure the two of you hadn’t been followed before tugging on the edge of a book and pulling the hinged bookcase away from the wall. He hurried inside with one arm holding you to him and the other shutting the secret door as quietly as possible. Once he heard it latch, he pressed a code into the number pad on the wall and continued through the snaking hidden hallways of the house. He reached a sturdy locked door, punched in the code for that one as well, and once inside, attempted to set you down. But you weren’t having that. 

Your breathing turned to panting as you desperately clung to Steve’s torso like a koala. 

“Shhh baby it's okay. You’re safe now, I promise.” He said softly to you, rubbing his large hands up and down your back in an attempt to soothe you.

You looked up at him with giant, terror-filled eyes before he realized what you were likely thinking.

“It's alright, honey, nobody can hear us from in here. It’s soundproofed.” He reassured you.

You slowly stopped fighting him, allowing yourself to be set down on the ground. You looked around with wet eyes at this room you hadn’t even known existed. The walls were painted a calming lavender, and though the room was small, there was a big comfy couch and a plush rug on the floor. A shelf against the wall held books, a radio, and a collection of movies, presumably to be played on the large TV on top of a chest of drawers against other wall. Steve guided you gently to the couch, pulling a giant cozy blanket off the arm and wrapping it around you.

“Please Daddy, what’s happening?” You asked, choking on the sobs you’d been stifling since you’d heard him swear.

“Oh sweetie. Daddy accidentally brought a bit of work home with him, didn’t he? Silly Daddy, huh?” He joked, hoping to cheer you up at least a little bit considering the circumstances, but you continued crying. 

“But thankfully, Baba is being really brave, and he’s gonna fix it all while you and I hang out down here, alright?”

“Is Baba gonna be okay?” You asked, trembling.

“Oh, of course baby. You know how strict Baba can get when you break the rules? Well he’s gonna use his scary voice to make these men go back home.”

Big you knew better; big you knew Bucky was down there killing those men, those men who had likely come to kill him, or Steve, or worse. But little you didn’t have to worry about that. As far as little you would ever know, these men had really come just to talk. Steve’s explanation calmed you down enough that he was no longer afraid you’d pass out from hyperventilation.

“How long is it gonna take?” You asked.

“I don’t know, baby. Hopefully not long. But look! Baba and I filled this room with tons of activities for whenever we need to come play down here!” Steve pointed towards the shelf, and upon closer look you noticed that all the books and movies were for little kids like you. The bottom shelf even held a stack of coloring books and a box of art supplies. As much as you loved to craft and color, you shook your head before nuzzling back into Steve’s chest.

“Oh, I understand, baby. It’s a lot right now, isn’t it? And it’s way past your bedtime! Now hang on, I know I put some in here somewhere…” He muttered the last bit to himself as he rose from the couch, with you still attached to him. He strode over to the drawers under the TV, opening one, the other, and finally finding a collection of brand new paci’s in the third drawer he checked. Your eyes lit up, you hadn’t even realized you’d been without your comfort item for so long.

“Check that out angel,” Steve smiled. “Every time you come down here, you get to pick a new paci to use. You like that?”

You nodded softly before pointing to a blue paci featuring an illustration of a big daddy bear hugging a little baby bear.

“Like me an’ you…” You whispered as Steve picked it up and popped it into your mouth, unable to resist pinching your chubby cheek, and you giggled. Steve carried you back over to the couch, intending to cuddle you as long as you needed him too and then even longer after that. But just as soon as he lowered the two of you onto the overstuffed cushions, Steve’s phone rang in his pocket. You tightened your grip around him slightly, looking up with wide eyes as he fished the phone from his pants. “It’s just my phone, baby, look.” He said, holding up the screen with Bucky’s contact photo displayed on it. “Baba calling?” You asked around your paci, reaching up at the phone.

“I’m gonna answer it first, okay? And then you can talk to him, is that alright? Can you be patient for Daddy?” He asked, and you nodded solemnly, playing with the hem of the blanket while Steve answered the phone. 

Even if you could make out the words on the other end of the line, you doubt you could have made sense of them considering the state you were in at the moment. 

“I love you too. See you in a minute.” Steve finally spoke, before hanging up the phone. You gasped. “I wanted to talk to Baba!” You said, beginning to tear up, but Steve scooped his arms around you and picked you back up. 

“You can, angel, in just a minute! He said the coast is clear, we can go back out and see him now.” He said, walking you towards the door, and he felt you tense around his body. 

“‘S it safe now, Daddy?” You asked cautiously. 

“It is, baby, I promise.” Steve replied, unlocking the sturdy door and carrying you out into the long passageways within the house.

“Pay attention to this, baby, I need to make sure you can come down here by yourself if you need to.” Steve commanded, and then sensing your anxiety rising again, he added “Don’t worry, angel, it's just in case. Daddy and Baba will try to be with you always.”

You watched your path, taking note of how many turns there were and when to take them, before you and Steve reached the back of the bookcase door. 

“This is the password, baby, see?” He demonstrated putting the numbers into the keypad, the code was your birthday, which made you smile. The door opened to reveal Bucky on the other side.

“Baba!!” You cried, reaching out towards him.

“Hey angel,” Bucky smiled, accepting you into his arms while Steve embraced the two of you, your little family at long last reunited after a brief but stressful night. 

When Steve pulled apart from you, he turned to the door, shutting it behind him. He placed his hand on a book and looked you in the eye.

“If you ever have to go down there, you pull on this book, alright?” He said, and when you squinted your eyes against the dim hallway, you noticed it was a book of your favorite fairy tales. Of course it was.

Taglist: @babybatdani @cherryynoir @simpingbutch @xxxqueenlaufeysonxxxxo @mogaruke @flthyhrts @mariexoxosblog @stuckysgirl27 @midnight-dreams-23 @mischiefsemimanaged @0witchtrials0 @my-river-lilly @erynnnn @tired-spider-siblings @tamzindouglas @st3rgirl ​​@rach2602 @bradfordmyworld @keirabux @teddybearsgrr @sleepybabyxo @bunnyweasley23 @simpforsebastianstan06 @angies1021 @acahope311 @marvel1984 @little-love-bee @charliessafespace @avoyen1998 @milfdilfslayer23000 @mylittlesafehaven99 @bootlegmothman420 @lokisgirlszendaya @thenextavengerpost @bunnybubbls

Every time you closed your eyes you saw them. Every time you thought the gentle clasp of sleep would find you, you heard them.

Bronx & Queens, dead.

Bronx & Queen, the two guards hired to keep you safe were killed rather grisly.

You hadn’t seen the entire set of pictures, those were in the sole possession of Steve & Bucky. They have hidden away in a near destruction-proof safe while you were given the meagre knowledge that they had died and it was grim.

And you had a sick sense that something, everything, was going to go up in fire and smoke. It was a dull ache in the back of your mind, an incomprehensible fear that was reminiscent of the feeling of being watched. The underlying notion was that something was on the cusp of happening and you were complacently standing idle while the inner workings of this uncontrollable tactic were being perfected behind closed doors.

Tick, tick, tick.

You rolled onto your side, trying as best as you could not to disturb the alphas down the hall from your room, the two men who had hyper-tuned their instincts to detect the subtlest disturbance in the night would have heard you if you weren’t careful or quiet. With the urgency to be as subtle as possible, you slowly kicked the blankets off and pushed yourself to sit up on the edge of the bed, your feet touching the cool hardwood floor.

You count under your breath and started to stand, one hand pressed against the bed to keep yourself steady, and as you had gained your balance you started shuffling forward. It didn’t take you long to cross the room, though with every step you were cautious as to not wake Steve and Bucky, given that it was such a fight to be able to sleep on your own without them pressed tightly against you.

Hours before had been the catalyst that kicked their protective instincts into a whole new intensity, you were lucky to have a room to yourself tonight. You didn’t need them to know that you couldn’t sleep, you didn’t them to be overbearing about your inability to sleep well.

Once you thought the coast was clear, you slipped from the room and kept to the left side of the hallway, moving as silently as you could with every intention to curl up on the couch and watch some mindless movie to keep your mind busy.

Whether it was underlying guilt that was keeping you awake or the self-destructive anxiety that told you it would be better if you slipped out the front door rather than become some tool to cause Bucky and Steve pain, the result was the same dullness. You were unable to sleep, you were unable to turn your brain off.

And time was mocking you with every passing second that descended the night into further darkness.

“I can’t sleep.” You whispered in passing as if they could have heard your excuse for why you were awake, and then you kept on your trajectory toward the living room.

Your descent to the leather seat of the sectional was slow, and you had waited a moment to stretch out and relax against the cool material. After you had truly sunk into the surface and curled in on yourself, you raised your arm and reached behind you to grasp hold of the blanket draped over the back edge and yanked it down toward you. It took a few moments for you to straighten it out over yourself, and a few more to arrange yourself in the position you wanted.

Using your phone tucked into your hand, you used an app downloaded on your phone to turn on the television and used the same app to open one of the streaming networks. Your choice wasn’t a complicated or lengthy process, if anything you had chosen something unassuming that you wouldn’t have to pay any particular attention to.

As the opening scenes started to play, you dug deeper into your bed on the couch and tucked the blanket under your chin. Your eyes had been trained on the screen, your head tucked into a comfortable position and your legs were tucked into your self and with the addition of the background noise to drown out the ticking clock, you finally felt as if you could sleep.

You woke to the feeling of your phone vibrating against your thighs, the buzz jerking you from some kind of twisted and vague dream. Your hand clutching your phone had dragged it from under the blanket and as your vision became clearer, you had rolled onto your back gauging whether you wanted to answer the call or not.

It wasn’t an unknown number that demanded to be denied, it was your sister’s name that flashed on your screen and although you had negated any connection with her since she tried to have you fucked over with Marcus, your curiosity was almost entirely directed you to answer the call.

Without much thought, you accepted the call and held it up to your ear, listening to the egregious sound of someone having sex from the background. There were steady and hyper-sexualized grunts that were animalistic and had been followed by high-pitched squeals and fake moans that stirred your ire. You had almost hung up the phone and tossed it away from you until you heard her voice.

“You caused this you bitch,” your sisters’ curd attempt at insulting you was nothing if slurred and broken by drunkenness, “you fucking whore! Marcus took another omega because of you! If you would’ve just-“

“I told you he was a piece of shit-“ Your attempt to negate her concerns for her alpha and potential mate had been overshadowed by the sudden turn of sexual pleasure and your sister’s drunken tyrannical rage focused on you, to the sound of someone crying and Marcus’ cursing.

“I told you to get me the fucking bitch. I want the bitch not these useless whores-“

“I can’t-“

The phone was pulled from your hands and the call was immediately ended, your eyes raising to meet Bucky’s own intense gaze. Without saying anything, he had crouched by your side with his hand still clutching your phone and used his free hand had cup your chin in order to hold your gaze steady.

His eyes had met yours, holding your attention while his thumb brushed against the edge of your jaw, a soft hum reverberating in his throat. His natural scent was heady, and it was clear that Bucky was projecting to keep you calm after the phone call that hadn’t just affected you but had triggered something dark and dangerous within the two alphas.

Whether it was their natural reaction to become predators when they were threatened, or they had rooted themselves in the primordial darkness that came whenever their omega was threatened, the result had been the same.

Despite the colour of their eyes remaining relatively unchanged, there was a surge of deleterious intent reflected in their irises. Steve and Bucky both, had taken this threat and this stupid drunken mistake made by your sister as a chance to finally find the fucker permanently. They had shown some measure of mercy by allowing both your sister and Marcus the right to live, although there wasn’t even a measurable question of whether that chance would be ripped out from under them.

After tentative silence, and Steve approaching the two of you the reflection of destruction he would inflict with his bare hands had been a fine mist that seemed to hover around him. It almost appeared like a glow, something illuminating the sheer and powerful size of this alpha who was not to be fucked with.

“You’re leaving the city, and we’re finding Marcus.” Bucky had addressed you with finality, less of a request and more of a complete alpha command, one that would not allow room for arguments. “You’ll get another new phone tomorrow.”

Bucky’s hand had dropped from your chin and the comfort from his hand had dissipated, leaving you to feel chilled as if someone had sucked all warmth from the room. It took a shiver running down your spine to get you to sit up, the blanket dragged with you as you used it like a shield to obscure your body from their view. You watched them move around the penthouse apartment while you were in a daze, settled into a place of here and there.

Steve and Bucky were a unit, they were calculated in every step of their journey throughout the apartment. Whether it was one or both of them packing you an emergency bag, or gathering a kit that was designed for interrogation, albeit one where the victim may not live, they moved synonymously.

It had only taken half an hour between the phone call ending and the two alphas preparing to leave with you in tow. Your ascent to the front door had ceased when you took note of the four black duffle bags set by the sleek front door, each bag had a small circular tracking device locked onto the zipper. The first bag closest to you was the largest and seemed unassuming at best as if it was another piece of designer luggage that they could have afforded. And although it had looked to match the rest, with the same kind of onyx stitching and leather bound handles, you had a sense that there was something illusive tucked inside.

“Where are you going?” You raised your head, questioning the two of them with guilt and remorse hanging at the back of your mind. It was a slow-acting poison that countered every other normal thought, the counteracting notion that this was all your fault was affecting your composure.

Tick, tick, tick.

Tick, tick, tick.

“You’re going somewhere safe,” Steve’s hand, heavy on the back of our neck, steered your attention away from the locked front door to himself. He had drawn you in with a steady hold on you, pulling you into his chest in order for his lips to crash against yours, and with every possessive stroke of his tongue against yours, he had overshadowed your scent with his own.

Steve was holding you as tightly as he could to his body, he was effectively overwhelming you with everything he had, both as a temporary goodbye and an act of utter control and desperation to mark you as his.

As Steve pulled away, Bucky had taken over. Tongue and teeth met, and his fingers dug into your hips almost hard enough to bruise as an indicator that you were theirs and they were yours. In place of a mate mark that you hadn’t gotten yet, their scents overloading yours and the weight of their hands on your body would have to be good enough.

“And you?” You mumbled against him, your eyes fluttering closed when his lips moved to your forehead, and the soft dusting of his kiss against your flesh was another sweet goodbye. “You and Steve?”

“We’re going to find him.” Bucky had pulled away and opened the door for you, three alphas on the other side, one of which was Ari.

“Guard her with your fucking life, if it comes down to you and her-“

“I could say the same to you.” Ari alluded coolly, mutual respect and need between him and your alphas, there was an understanding between the three powerful alphas, and you felt as if you weren’t the only omega trapped in the centre of it all. “Y/N-“

“I don’t want him to breathe,” you turned on your heel, your eyes sharp as you looked between Steve and Bucky with a demand of your own, “fucking kill him. Snap his neck, throw him off the Empire State Building, just…”

“He’s not coming out alive, we promise.”

Laughter travels through the room, breaking you away from your thoughts, and you instantly join in to try and blend in with the situation. You assume that is what is expected of you when in reality, you just want to scream and run. No one can see you though in the back of the dark ballroom as a bright spotlight brightens the stage where people speech away the night as if the room isn’t filled with criminals.

Laughter travels through the room, breaking you away from your thoughts, and you instantly join in to try and blend in with the situation. You assume that is what is expected of you when in reality, you just want to scream and run. No one can see you though in the back of the dark ballroom as a bright spotlight brightens the stage where people speech away the night as if the room isn’t filled with criminals.

Laughter travels through the room, breaking you away from your thoughts, and you instantly join in to try and blend in with the situation. You assume that is what is expected of you when in reality, you just want to scream and run. No one can see you though in the back of the dark ballroom as a bright spotlight brightens the stage where people speech away the night as if the room isn’t filled with criminals.

Sat in the back with Barnes behind you and Rogers next to you behind the table as you’re twisted on your chair towards the stage, you bite your lip to the point where the taste of iron explodes over your tongue when you swipe it over your burst lip. You want to run so badly. You want to fight for your freedom. You’re feisty and powerful, what do you have to lose? They kill you? No. They’ll torture you. You can’t run. They won’t let you get away with it. These people are serious – you have seen them work.

You’re not one to judge. Criminals will always be there and you won’t stop them, knowing you quite simply can’t. But to be part of this organisation against your will and be their prisoner? Why on earth would you be okay with that? But you can’t run. Not in this ridiculous dress they put you in. Or with that knife pressed to your exposed spine.

Applause clatters around your ears and it makes you flinch and clap along instinctively. The large chandeliers above you slowly brighten up and the dinner party continues, loud chatter mixing with the swing band playing from the stage. You feel a sharp sting in your back, making you arch forward before quickly spinning in your chair to face the round table again.

From the corner of your eyes, you notice Bucky slip his knife into his chest pocket where he undoubtedly has a holster hidden, like most of the people attending this feast probably do. After running your fingers over the table cloth in deep thought, you suddenly quickly shoot up from your chair, feeling about seven pairs of curious eyes on you and two pairs of eyes burning holes in your dress as a warning.

“Excuse me.” You blurt out, eyes darting around frantically as you snatch your purse from the table “R-restroom.”

Quickly making your way out of the reverberating ballroom, you push through the heavy golden doors and almost stumble into the quiet hallway. You hadn’t noticed your shallow breathing yet, but you can’t stop moving. Not sure what it is exactly you are looking for, you wane your way through the classical building in search for anything that could help you.

Why you settled for the actual restrooms, you’re not sure.

Your heels click onto the clean marble and the door falls closed behind you, the soft sound of jazz music playing through the gracefully decorated ladies’ room. It’s beautiful. Golden decorations climbing up the walls to direct your eyes to the ethereal paintings on the ceiling, expensive soaps, towels and furniture making it seem like you could stay the night in the restrooms if you had to.

The building is like a castle in Versailles and you wish you could enjoy it more.

The sight that reflects back to you in the wide bathroom mirror shocks you. You barely recognise yourself. You had no idea you could look this much like… you belonged here. Draped with expensive jewellery, heels strapped to your ankles, a dress that looks more expensive than most buildings in the city and somehow you don’t drown in it. It suits you. It scares you how much it suits you.

You slowly twist and turn in front of the mirror to try and get used to this image of yourself, halting when a thick line of red on your exposed back catches your eye. You step in closer and realise that it’s a thick stripe of your own blood running into the back of your dress from where Bucky had pressed the knife into your skin. Your blood doesn’t quite get to reach its boiling point when two large men step inside of the ladies’ room.

Quickly pressing yourself into the counter and wishing upon any star that you could just disappear, part of you wants to grab them by the hair and slam their gorgeous faces into the mirror until all you see is blood.

“Jesus, Buck. You’re not supposed to actually hurt her.” Steve bellows angrily and strides over to you, roughly grabbing your arm and turning you sideways to inspect the sliver of blood on your back. Your eyes lock with Bucky’s and you can’t help but scowl at him, finding the courage to stand up for yourself after finding out Steve is pissed at him too.

“It’s just a scratch.” Bucky defends himself poorly and you lose it.

You dive forward, ready to strangle the broad man with anything you could get your hands on, but two strong arms grab your wrists and pull you into a big wall of muscle, locking your wrists in front of your chest. Steve’s breath tickles your neck as a deep chuckle leaves his lips, melting the ice-coated attack you had planned on his partner.

“I know, I know.” He coos, his temple attached to yours as both your eyes settle on Bucky, yours in fury, his in annoyance “You have every right to be pissed. So am I. This wasn’t the deal.” He directs his last words directly to Bucky, making him roll his eyes and huff as he crosses his arms over his chest. You grit your teeth at his dismissal and struggle in Steve’s hold again.

“Bucky…” Steve starts again, his voice an octave lower and thus making him sound a lot more threatening, making you stop struggling “If you don’t control yourself, you’ll be the one feeling my wrath with your own goddamn knife.”

His face turns to you again and you stiffen when his soft lips press to the shell of your ear “But he did break our rules about you, so I think I still get to punish him, don’t you think?” You stay quiet, terrified to say the wrong thing “And how about he makes it up to you with his punishment?”

His grip gently slips away from you and only now do you realise how comfortable it was to have the large, muscled man holding you so tightly. Goosebumps rise over your skin at the lack of his touch and your brain scrambles to puzzle together what is going on.

Slowly stepping around you and facing you, Steve gently takes your chin between his calloused fingers, making your eyes connect. His eyes are warm and gentle and for now, you trust him. But something tells you he’s the one to look out for in the long run.

As he steps forward, you have no choice but to follow his steps, walking backwards as you anticipate the marble counter hitting your behind. Not breaking eye contact with the large, blond man in front of you, you find yourself admitting you would comply to anything he orders you in this moment.

“I know you must be scared. I don’t think you’re wrong for that. You’re a clever girl for being scared of us.” His voice is low and his words come out like a promise. You’d recognise it for the threat it is, if you weren’t so completely lost in his essence.

Only now do you realise they have both shed their suit jackets and are standing in this beautiful bathroom with you in their tuxedo pants and their white, dress shirts with sleeves rolled up to below their elbows, exposing their tattoos and Bucky’s metal arm. Both of them are the perfect picture of their job description. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you are their next victim and they will strap you too a chair and torture you beyond sanity.

“But there’s a secret we haven’t told you yet, sweetheart.” Steve speaks again and you eyes dart to Bucky briefly, who is catching up to his friend, the two of them cornering you against the counter. If you turned around now, you’re sure the sight of you between these two powerful men would shock you even more than the previous image “You don’t know this yet, but you’re the only person that can bring us to our knees.”

A frown settles over your features at his words and you look at Bucky again, not finding an ounce of confusion on his face, or on Steve’s. You bite your lip and turn back to Steve with curious eyes. Your heart is pounding in your throat and you feel the earlier alcohol creating a red glow over your cheeks and neck. A fever runs through your body at the close proximity of the intimidating men and the million potential insinuations of their words. His next actions confuse you and you can barely comprehend them.

Steve’s left hand reaches up and grabs the back of Bucky’s neck, making Bucky face him “How about you make it up to our girl, huh?” Are his words before roughly forcing Bucky to his knees right in front of you.

Bucky smirks up at you, his hands wrapping around your firm legs before moving your dress up and grabbing your bare thighs in his hands, massaging your flesh with his strong fingers. You look down at him in anticipation, the sight of Bucky’s beautiful, perfect face so close to where you want him sending your heartbeat to throb between your legs.

It makes you feel powerful.

Steve’s fingers are still knotted into Bucky’s hair, taking reign of any movement of his head. You watch Bucky’s tongue run across his lips hungrily as his eyes settle on your black, lace panties. A warm hand on your cheek makes your eyes snap upwards to Steve’s as he smiles at you with mischief glimmering in his eyes.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl. Bucky will apologize for his terrible manners.”

You barely get to process Steve’s words before Bucky’s face is shoved between your legs with so much force, you almost jump to the ceiling. His warm mouth engulfs your pulsing clit through the lace of your underwear and you let out a broken whimper at the delicious intrusion, the warmth spreading from your core sending goosebumps over your skin.

As his mouth starts moving and lapping at you slowly, you feel your arousal pool through the flimsy fabric. It’s like he’s buried in a passionate kiss with your dripping pussy and he’s never had a kiss like that in his life.

Your hands fly to his thick hair as you hold him in place, a deep groan rumbling through Bucky’s chest at the action. You’re not entirely sure forcing a mob boss between your legs is very safe, but Bucky moves against you so expertly, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself if you wanted to.

Which you don’t -you don’t want to at all.

Steve’s deep chuckle at your actions riles you up even more, the realisation of the two dangerous men watching you as you get yourself off on one of their faces makes another gush of slick pour from your core.

Wide hands gripping your thighs, Steve’s and your hands forcing Bucky between your legs, Bucky humming against you as he moves your panties aside with his teeth and moves his mouth over your dripping pussy with so much fervour you almost buckle over -all of your thoughts leave your head.

Not sure if it’s you or Bucky that drapes your thigh over his shoulder, but it allows his tongue to delve into you as his nose nudges your clit and he hums in delight. Tugging at his hair to keep him close, your jaw falls slack and your breathing becomes more and more shallow.

“Oh God, Oh God, yes yes yes…” Your moans echo against the marble as your head falls back and your stomach tightens.

His flattened tongue licks up and circles your clit, followed by some harsh sucks that pull your muscles tighter. You can’t even follow Bucky’s movements anymore and if it wasn’t so goddamn good, you’d think he wasn’t even trying his best. He’s just licking and eating you out like it’s his last meal -like he is the one getting pleasure from this.

A large hand around your neck pulls your jugular to a pair of soft and scorching hot lips that belong to Steve and your body launches into overdrive, your hips bucking wantonly against Bucky’s skilled mouth and moans and whimpers rolling off your lips.

Clenching around his Bucky’s warm, wet muscle as it plunges into you and his thumbs rubbing into the apex of your thighs, you don’t know how much longer you can last. Not an ounce of you wants the two men to stop pleasing you, the weight of their bodies holding you in place as they pleasure you making you feel so desired, you want to explode.

“Fuck… I’m gonna- Gonna-” You interrupt yourself with a loud groan, pressing your hips to Bucky’s mouth roughly to chase the pleasure of your impending high.

The two men chuckle and you realise it’s all you and Bucky between your legs now, Steve’s hand having moved to play with your nipples through the fabric of your dress.

“Hmm, this dress was a good choice, huh?” Steve mumbles and leans in, pressing his hot mouth to your exposed chest “How does she taste, Buck? As good as we imagined?”

Bucky nods ardently against you, sending shock waves of pleasure through your clit and making you whimper “You have no idea. Now shut up, I want to make her come.” He growls against you and you didn’t know it was possible, but his actions accelerate so much, the way he devours you now has your knees buckling over. Which is exactly how you find out how strong he is, because you’re sure your feet aren’t even touching the floor anymore.

Gasps and whimpers leave your lips as you try to form words. But you simply can’t. Your muscles tense and tighten as your thighs tremble around Bucky’s head. Grinding yourself against Bucky’s face carelessly, Steve’s mouth is suddenly pressed against the shell of your ear again.

“How about you be a good girl and gush all over Bucky’s face, huh?” You don’t need him to tell you twice, because Bucky sucks at your clit so hard, he sucks the orgasm straight out of you and you sink down into him as pleasure crackles through every disc in your spine. It’s like a hot glow of sunlight bursts through your body, Bucky’s tongue working you through your high so well, you feel like you’re shaking and sobbing for a solid two minutes as your orgasm washes over you, two pairs of hands seemingly covering every inch of your skin as you spiral into insanity.

Bucky’s hums against your pussy and Steve’s praises of ‘good girl’, ‘just like that’ and ‘oh, look at you’ intensify your orgasm and you keen before your body grows pliant in their hold. Bucky slowly moves to a stand, making sure his grip remains on you to keep you up as you catch your breath.

All of a sudden, it’s Bucky standing in front of you, his chin glistening with your arousal.

“I’m sorry, pretty girl. Won’t hurt you again.” He mumbles and presses his lips to yours, the daze of your orgasm making you kiss him back with a slack jaw and a dazzled hum. You taste yourself on his lips, but he’s such a fantastic kisser, you can’t help but chase his lips. When he pulls away from the kiss and leans in to whisper in your ear, you’re sure Steve doesn’t hear his next words “Unless it gets you to ride my face like that again of course.”

You don’t really get to process his words at all, before Steve butts in again, tearing your eyes from Bucky’s intense, blue ones to the darker blue, but kind ones.

Upon your entry, they both turned to watch you watch in, their gazes hungry. You swallowed the lump in your throat; you felt like prey. Bucky leapt up to pull your chair out, making your face flush as you murmured a thank you.

“Good to see you again,” Steve tipped his head to you.

“You too,” you squeaked out. All of that bravado you’d shown Veronica was nowhere to be found. You were intimidated. You traced the stem of your wine glass with a nervous finger, “This is really nice. You guys own the place?” 

James nodded, “Yes, actually. We’d hoped you would like it.”

You stared at him for a second, “Wow. I was actually joking, but- wow.”

Steve smiled and leaned into his palm, “It can be a lot. Please don’t be intimidated, sweetheart.” Despite the fact that you were intimidated, the term of endearment made your heart flip. 

You laughed nervously, toying with your hair, “Yeah, what’s to be intimidated by, right?”

James gave you a reassuring smile, his fingers brushing over yours on the table, “You’ve got nothing to worry about.” He gave you another cursory once-over, “Have you seen yourself?”

Now your face was hot; this was a lot of attention and you were definitely not used to it. Veronica was the one who got noticed, while you tended to stick to the background. You’d only done the stupid fundraiser as a favor to her. 

“We know we asked a lot of you tonight,” Steve added, “But only because we wanted to get to know you.”

“Why me? There were prettier girls on the stage that night.” It escaped your lips before you could think better of it. Insecurity wasn’t exactly attractive, but what did it matter anyway? This was a one-time thing.

“We disagree,” James shrugged. “And I bet we could change your mind.”

“You think so?” You didn’t mean to sound so cynical, but self-deprecation was the only thing you could seem to manage. 

He smirked at you, “I’m sure of it.” The way he was looking at you made it clear he didn’t mean having a lively debate.

You felt a twinge of arousal and abruptly stood, making your chair scrape on the polished floor, “Please excuse me for a moment.”

You could feel their eyes on you as you headed to the bathroom, trying to keep your pace steady. In the bathroom mirror, you steadied yourself on the sink; you weren’t sure what you had expected, but it certainly wasn’t for them to be so enamored with you. Every other date you’d been on recently had made you feel like they were doing you a favor. But those two- despite the wealth and power, they seemed genuinely interested in you. And it was driving you crazy that you couldn’t find their angle.

“You just have to get through dinner. That’s it,” you reminded yourself. There was no pressure. One and done.

You took a deep breath and left the bathroom, pausing for only a second in the doorway of the dining room. “Tone it down, Buck,” Steve was urging. “You’re making her nervous.”

“I’m not trying-” You took a step back into the room and he cut off, a smile crossing his lips, “Everything okay?”

You nodded hastily, taking your seat, “Yes, thank you, James.” 

He half-smiled, “Call me Bucky.”

Steve interlaced his fingers on the table like he was in a business meeting, “We’d like to know a little more about you.”

You busied yourself perusing the menu that now sat in front of you, “What do you want to know?”

You peeked at Steve in time to see his lips turn up in a small smile, “Anything you want to tell us.”

“Uh-”

“Where do you work?” Bucky offered.

“Um, freelance.” You added, “I write.”

“Anything we’ve heard of?” Steve asked.

You offered him a wry smile, “Probably not. I do mostly marketing and promotional material. I’d like to publish my own work someday though.”

“What’s stopping you?” Bucky urged.

“Talent, probably. Money, definitely. It’s tough to get into publishing these days,” you chuckled, almost forgetting who you were talking to.

They exchanged a look across the table, which didn’t go unnoticed by you, “That was not me asking for help, just for the record.”

They both grinned and Bucky laughed, “I knew we liked you for a reason.”

You couldn’t stop the eye roll that followed, saved by the return of the waitstaff. You placed your order and Steve and Bucky did the same, reeling off what they wanted without looking at the menu. Wine glasses were filled and then you were alone again.

“So, what do you two do? Besides owning restaurants and hotel chains.”

A sly grin crossed Bucky’s face, “Something tells me you don’t want to know the answer to that, doll.” Your heart skipped again; he dropped it so carelessly, but it felt so intimate.

Your warm cheeks seemed to draw a careless comment from you, “That might be true; I probably got enough from that court case.”

“You remember that, huh?” Steve almost sounded amused.

“My sister almost locked me in the closet to keep me from coming- she wouldn’t let me forget.”

“Your sister wanted you to cancel, but you didn’t want to,” Bucky mused. “Why’s that?”

You shrugged, “That donation is going to help her.”

Steve smiled, “That all?”

You took a sip of your wine, admitting, “I was curious.”

“So, you do wanna know more,” Bucky smirked.

That drew a smile from you, “As long as it doesn’t send me to jail. And you know, you don’t have to kill me after, or anything.”

Steve laughed aloud, “Don’t worry, we’ll protect you.”

“My heroes,” you smirked, hoping your sarcasm wouldn’t offend them.

“Even bad guys are somebody’s heroes, doll,” Bucky tipped his head to you. “You write the story.” 

“That was too cheesy,” you protested, though you couldn’t help the laugh that followed.

Bucky sobered slightly, “We take it where we can get it. Things can get kind of heavy in our line of work.”

“I would imagine.” The wine was making you loose, but you knew that now was the time to tread a little lighter.

“We’ll tell you anything you want to know,” Steve offered. “But if you don’t ask, we won’t tell.”

“Do you guys do illegal stuff?”

“Some,” Bucky said evenly. “Most is above board, but now and again there are-” he paused, “Extenuating circumstances.”

“Gambling?” A nod. “Bribery?” Another nod. “Drugs?” 

“No drugs,” Bucky shook his head. “Stevie isn’t a fan.”

“We do these things for the good of the community, even if the community doesn’t always realize it. The day I start hurting the people I set out to help is the day I leave the business.” Steve, who had been the more stoic of the two for the whole evening was suddenly passionate and animated. You glanced at Bucky, who was watching Steve speak with a soft smile on his lips; it was the most open you’d seen either of them all night.

But the waitstaff reappeared with your plates, dissolving the moment and replacing it with the scent of food. By the time the staff disappeared again, you weren’t sure if questions were still on the table. Instead, you ate a mouthful, humming at the way the rich flavor spread over your tongue.

“Good, right?” Bucky grinned. You hummed your approval through a second mouthful; it was really good.

“You can keep asking questions, if you want,” Steve offered.

“You can ask the question if you want too,” Bucky added.

“Do I have to ask it?”

Steve smiled a little, “Yes.”

It took you a second to build the courage, “Were you guilty? In the trial?”

“Not technically.”

“But you gave that order.”

“I did.” 

Now that was surreal. He’d just confessed a crime to you- a real crime. Granted, he couldn’t be tried for it again without new evidence, so the risk was minimal, but it still felt like something real. You knew you should be upset, disgusted even. But you weren’t surprised- he’d won the trial due to a lack of evidence, not because anyone truly believed he’d been innocent. And yet, you were here anyway. And you were enjoying yourself.

“Anything else you want to know?” Bucky offered.

“Why me? For real this time.”

They exchanged a look across the table and Steve finally spoke up, “Would you believe us if we said it wasn’t planned?”

You smiled, “Unlikely.”

Bucky chuckled, “Stevie and I usually have different tastes.”

“Meaning Bucky tends to go for pretty, self-possessed blondes-”

“Like Steve,” Bucky snickered.

Steve continued like Bucky hadn’t interrupted, “While I usually prefer a soft brunette. But when you walked out on that stage, we both bid before we even said a word.”

You glanced at Bucky, a sardonic smile on your lips, “He’s soft?

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” Bucky teased.

You met his gaze, “I think I might.”

***

Twenty minutes later, you were fumbling with the key to your apartment, painfully aware of the godlike men on either side of you. And then you were inside and Steve was closing the door while Bucky stripped off your coat. Then he was kissing you, his hand trailing over your hips as a soft groan escaped his lips. 

Steve’s hands snaked over your waist from behind as he dropped his lips to your neck, nibbling and sucking as he drew you back so you were flush against him. He murmured into your skin, “You sure about this, sweetheart?”

Bucky chuckled against your lips, “Once you say yes, Stevie and I will have a hard time letting go.”

You arched your back into Steve and brushed Bucky’s cheek with your thumb, “I’m sure.”

Then Steve’s arm was dipping under your knees and sweeping you off your feet, drawing a soft squeal from you. Steve grinned at Bucky, “I think I like that sound.”

Bucky led the way to your bedroom, shedding his suit jacket and shirt along the way and drawing your eye to his well defined chest. They hid it underneath three-piece suits, but based on the way Steve was carrying you with ease, they both took time to get out from behind the desk.

Steve deposited you on the edge of the bed, where Bucky quickly descended on you, slotting himself between your legs and pushing the hem of your dress up  around your hips.

Steve hummed his approval as he stripped off his own jacket and undid his tie, “You want to taste her, Buck?”

Bucky ran his hands over your thighs, brushing your clothed core with his thumb, “We did skip dessert.”

Steve paused undoing his buttons to scan the scene in front of him; you were on the lip on the bed, legs spread to make room for Bucky, who knelt between them, kneading your thigh while he waited for Steve to say the word.

“Get her ready for me,” Steve ordered, undoing his buttons painstakingly slowly.

You wanted to watch him, but Bucky wasn’t wasting any time drawing your panties down and burying his face in your core. A gasp escaped your lips and you fell back on the bed, where you had more leverage while he teased your folds with his tongue, deftly avoiding where you wanted him most. 

Your hips bucked up in desperation and Steve’s voice rang out, “Be patient.” Your eyes snapped open and located Steve hovering at the edge of the bed, his shirt stripped off and his belt unbuckled. “Bucky will take care of you. Won’t you, Buck?”

At that, Bucky finally wrapped his lips around your clit, humming his agreement and drawing a gasp from you. One finger drew circles around your entrance, spreading the slick beginning to pool there. The slow pull of Steve’s zipper drew your gaze back to him as he withdrew his cock and fisted himself, making your breath catch; he was big. 

As if he knew what you were thinking, he chuckled low, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you ready for me, sweetheart.”

You swallowed hard, feeling warm and only vaguely threatened. Although as he stroked himself, you couldn’t help the way your mouth watered at the sight of him. But Bucky seemed to want your attention; fingers slick from toying with you, he slipped two fingers inside, flicking his tongue over your clit. You cried out, breath coming in pants as he fingered you mercilessly. 

Steve grunted as he jerked himself off, gaze fixed on Bucky’s head between your legs until he growled a command, “That’s enough.” Instantly, Bucky withdrew, pulling a whine from your throat at the sudden emptiness. “Wanna see you,” Steve said, voice a bit softer.

You sat up and accepted the hand he offered you, pulling you to your feet and giving you a soft spin so he could undo the zipper at the back of your dress. When your dress pooled at your feet, his large hands drifted over your hips, spinning you back around to face him, “So pretty. Isn’t she pretty, Buck?”

Bucky only nodded, his gaze locked on you and Steve drew you into a deep kiss, his tongue sweeping your mouth. You pressed into him, the feeling of his erection against your hip making the need between your legs start to burn.

“Tell us what you want, sweetheart?”

“Want you,” you breathed. “Both of you.”

“You got us, doll,” Bucky finally spoke up, moving behind you. He leaned in to steal Steve’s lips away and you could feel the hard bulge still trapped in his slacks pressing against your ass. 

Steve’s fingers slid from your hip to between your legs, smirking into Bucky’s lips as he felt the wetness there, “Feels like she’s ready for us, Buck.”

“I’m ready,” your voice was almost a whine. Sandwiched between the two of them, you were feeling a little needy. 

You nodded hastily, trying your robe closed and hurrying out to the door. You fumbled with the lock, heart stopping as you opened it to reveal a police officer standing on your threshold.

Steve ground his hips into you, pushing you back against Bucky, pulling a moan from you just as your doorbell rang.

You cursed, untangling yourself from the two of them and grabbing your robe, face hot. Steve offered you a smile, “We’ll be right here.” 

He tipped his head to you, “Sorry to disturb you, miss.” His eyes deliberately stayed on your face, abstaining from looking at your robe, though you weren’t sure your flushed cheeks and swollen lips were the better option. “We received a request for a welfare check from your sister. She said she was waiting for correspondence and hadn’t heard from you for quite some time.”

You cursed again, “I forgot to text her that I made it home. I’m so sorry about that-”

“Everything okay out here, doll?” Bucky came striding down the hallway, his shirt on, but unbuttoned and his hair tousled.

Your face burned even hotter, “It’s fine. I forgot I was supposed to text Veronica when I got home.”

He sauntered over and slung an arm over your shoulder, “We’ll make sure to let her know you’re home safe and sound. Thanks for checking in, officer.”

The officer gave another nod, “Not a problem. Have a good night, folks.”