#mob steve

Students bustled in and out with the distracted energy of people who lived on caffeine and looming deadlines. A small bell above the entrance rang with each new arrival, its cheery tone doing little to interrupt your concentration. You had come here countless times, and nothing had ever once felt out of place.

Yet today, you could not shake the sensation.

The feeling settled into you gradually, the way cold water seeps through fabric — a slow, creeping unease that you could neither name nor dispel. You looked up from your notebook, the pages filled with notes on postmodernist theory and economic ethics, and allowed your gaze to scan the space with quiet precision. 

Your eyes moved from the counter to the door, from the students to the far corners of the room, from the windows to the street beyond.

Nothing. Everything appeared precisely as it should.

Still, your hands had stilled against your tablet, your fingers frozen mid-sentence. That was the second sign. The first was the prickling at the back of your neck, that near-mythical alertness that every woman knows and every soldier respects — the kind that tells you when eyes are fixed upon you. You resisted the urge to turn too quickly, instead allowing your gaze to drift lazily across the room, as though distracted by a passing thought.

And then you saw him.

Seated alone in the far back corner, tucked into the shadows where the sunlight did not reach, was a man who did not belong. Not because of what he was doing — he held a coffee cup like anyone else, sitting in feigned stillness — but because of what he was hiding. 

His cap was drawn low over his brow, and oversized sunglasses concealed the rest of his face. His shoulders were broad, his arms thick with muscle, and though he attempted to appear casual, there was a stillness about him that rang false. It was the stillness of someone waiting.

Your blood chilled. Every part of your mind screamed at you to move.

You did not look at him again. You did not allow yourself the indulgence of a second glance. Instead, you began to gather your things with calculated calm, stacking your notebook atop your tablet, slipping them into your satchel with hands that only trembled once. 

Your heart was pounding now, but you breathed through it, just as Natasha had taught you, just as Steve had reminded you — keep the panic low and the pace steady.

Still, regret clawed at your chest.

You should have brought Natasha.

She had offered, as she always did. But this morning, in your foolish optimism, you had told her not to bother, that you would be fine on your own, that you would only be studying at the café for a few short hours. 

She had narrowed her eyes, unimpressed, but eventually conceded. You had dismissed her concerns with a flippant wave and a kiss on the cheek. Now, the only person you could think to call was the one you had deliberately left behind.

Your fingers shook as you hit her name on your phone.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

The bell over the door chimed as you stepped outside, the cold air biting against your skin. You did not look back. You did not need to. The sound of footsteps followed seconds later, steady and too close behind.

Natasha answered on the fourth ring, her voice calm but laced with a readiness that made your chest loosen just a little. "Hey there, sugar."

You didn’t return the greeting. Your breath hitched, and your voice came out in a whisper. "Nat… I think someone’s following me. I— I don’t know what to do."

There was silence for half a second. Then the sounds of movement erupted in the background — metal clattering, something heavy being dropped, followed by Natasha barking orders to someone, likely Sam.

"Where are you?" she demanded.

But before you could respond, she added, almost to herself, "No, forget it. I have your location. Stay on the phone. Do not stop moving. Do not talk to anyone. Do not go somewhere unfamiliar. Keep walking. I’m coming to you right now."

“I’m really scared, Nat, he’s walking right behind me.”

"Keep the phone to your ear. I want to hear everything. Don’t run, don’t look back again. Just act normal. You hear me?"

"Yeah," you nodded, voice barely audible. 

Her voice remained steady, but you could hear the sharp urgency buried just beneath the surface, that tactical edge you had only ever seen emerge when she was in protective mode. 

You opened your mouth to speak again, to tell her the street you had just turned down, to confirm the direction you were headed.

But then you felt it.

A hand — rough, broad, and cold — clamped over your mouth. A cloth pressed hard against your lips, soaked in something sharp and sickly sweet. 

Your scream caught in your throat as your body instinctively jerked away, but it was too late. The world spun violently, and your limbs grew leaden. You heard Natasha’s voice shouting your name through the phone, which now lay somewhere on the pavement, forgotten.

The man chuckled. A low, pleased sound, the kind that settles in the pit of the stomach like ice.

You watched, barely conscious, as the heel of his boot ground your phone beneath it with an almost casual brutality. 

The last thing you saw before the darkness took you completely was his silhouette turning, dragging you backwards, and the soft, indifferent buzz of the city continuing around you as though nothing at all had changed.

***

“What the fuck do you mean she’s gone?” Steve’s voice exploded, shattering the tension that had settled over the room like a storm about to break. The words came out strangled, disbelief and rage wrapped around each syllable like a noose.

Sam flinched. “She was at a coffee shop studying when she called Natasha saying someone’s following her. And then the signal—just cut. She’s not picking up. She’s not—”

Bucky didn’t wait for the rest.

His chair scraped back so violently it slammed into the floor behind him, but he didn’t so much as glance at the damage. His movements were all instinct now—sharp, clean, lethal. 

A practiced hand disappeared beneath his tailored jacket, retrieving the sleek black pistol holstered under his ribs. The steel glinted coldly under the chandelier, a flash of silver fury. His face was a mask of ruin. Something feral cracked through his carefully restrained calm—an expression so raw and wrathful even Sam backed up a step.

“I’m gonna fucking kill Vincest.” Bucky snapped, more to himself than to anyone else, and then he was moving.

Steve was right behind him, fury giving chase to fear.

“Where the fuck was her tail?” Steve demanded as they reached the foyer, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles blanched. “Who was watching her?!”

“She didn’t want anyone accompanying her,” Sam shouted after them, breathless. “She said she just needed a minute alone.”

Steve’s face twisted with fury, veins bulging in his neck. His voice rose, sharp and unforgiving, cutting through the room like a blade. “And why the fuck would anyone let her go alone?!”

He slammed his fist into the wall, the sound reverberating like a gunshot. “I don’t care if she’s stepping across the goddamn street to buy a damn coffee. You watch her. You accompany her. You make sure she doesn’t become someone else’s goddamn target. You keep her safe—or so help me, I will tear this entire operation apart piece by piece.”

His gaze burned into every single man standing there, his voice lowering but no less dangerous. “This isn’t just some fuck-up we can sweep under the rug. This is her life. And if any of you think for one second that you can just screw around and let her slip through your fingers—”

He cut himself off with a growl, his breath ragged. Then, with cold steel in his voice, he screamed, “Go! Go fucking search for her. Take orders from Natasha, from me, from whoever the hell. I don’t care how messy it gets, how many streets you tear apart, how many lives you burn through—she must be found.”

The room fell into a tense silence broken only by the sound of men scrambling, shouting confirmations, and the sharp clicks of weapons being readied.

Just then, the door slammed open with force, and Natasha strode in, face pale but determined.

“We found the warehouse,” she announced, voice steady despite the urgency. “She’s being held hostage by Vincent.”

Natasha was there, pacing like a caged panther, voice low and razor-sharp as she barked into her earpiece. Her eyes snapped to them the moment they appeared. No words, no pleasantries. Just a nod that screamed move.

“The last ping was five minutes ago, outside the library,” she said tightly, already handing Bucky a tablet with the paused CCTV footage. “Someone tailed her out. She clocked it. Called me scared out of her fucking mind.”

Steve snatched the tablet out of Bucky’s hands, eyes scanning like a man possessed. “Find him,” he growled. “I don’t care if you have to torch the whole goddamn city to do it.”

“We already are,” Natasha said, her voice like ice over flame. “I have four cars on standby and air support tracking the streets. But if they laid a trap—”

“They fucking won’t touch her.” Bucky’s voice was death itself. Cold, final. “They won’t fucking get the chance.”

Steve grabbed Bucky’s arm, pulling him toward the nearest car. “Come on. We’re not waiting.”

The engine roared to life, the tires screeching against asphalt as Steve pushed the car beyond its limits, his jaw locked in grim determination. Bucky sat beside him, fingers tightening around the gun, every second that passed fanning the rage consuming him.

The city blurred past in streaks of steel and concrete. Their hearts beat to the same rhythm of dread, every red light ignored, every corner taken with reckless precision. The silence between them was not empty but charged, a storm waiting to break.

When Natasha’s voice crackled through the comm, announcing she had traced you to Warehouse 14, neither man hesitated. Steve swerved sharply into the docklands, the car jolting as it tore across the uneven ground.

They did not pause. They did not plan. Bucky leapt out before the car had even fully stopped, his weapon raised, his movements mercilessly efficient. Steve followed, his own gun drawn, his shoulders squared in lethal resolve.

The first guard did not even have time to shout before Bucky’s bullet split the air and sent him crumpling to the ground. Another man tried to run, but Steve’s shot tore through his leg, dropping him instantly. The warehouse echoed with gunfire, shouts, and the thunder of boots as they moved forward, room by room, door by door, leaving no corner unchecked.

They were a tempest of violence and precision, their eyes cold, their fury a sharpened blade. Every obstacle was dismantled with terrifying ease, every man who stood in their way silenced before he could even raise his weapon.

And still, underneath the steel and blood, there was one thought alone, thrumming through their veins like a war drum: find you.

As Steve and Bucky surged through the final corridors of the warehouse, a tumult of thoughts collided in their minds. 

They had been here before, in the shadows of power, surrounded by the evidence of their own ruthlessness. They had commanded fear, taken lives without hesitation, and navigated a world where weakness was punished without mercy. 

And yet, despite all the blood they had shed, despite every crime they had committed and every advantage they had wielded, they felt something entirely alien now: helplessness at the thought of what state they might find you in.

Bucky’s jaw tightened as he imagined the worst, his hands curling around his gun until the metal creaked under the strength of his grip. Steve’s eyes narrowed, every instinct screaming that every second you were in the hands of another was a second too long, that the slightest delay could undo everything they had built to protect you.

Then, as they burst into the final storage room, their eyes locked on a figure standing directly before you, an audacious smirk twisting his face. 

Tall, lean, and cruelly composed, the man’s dark clothing clung to him like a shadow. In his hands was a gun, leveled squarely at Steve’s head. His name was Vincent Karras, a man whose reputation for sadistic cunning rivaled only their own histories.

Before Steve could even blink, before the air could carry the threat of a single word, Bucky’s finger tightened on the trigger. 

Two bullets tore into Vincent’s knees, each one precise and deliberate, forcing him to collapse in a howl of pain. He fell hard to the ground, still alive, still aware, a pawn left for the retribution yet to come. Bucky’s eyes did not waver; he had no intention of mercy, only the certainty that the threat to you would be extinguished swiftly.

Steve acted instantly. He shoved Vincent’s screaming, writhing body aside with a strength born of desperation and fury, his heart hammering as he lunged toward you. 

He crouched beside your bound form, hands moving expertly to free you from the ropes that bit into your wrists and ankles. The gag fell away from your mouth, and your muffled cries erupted into full, heart-wrenching sobs.

In the next instant, you were in his arms. Steve held you against his chest, pressing you close as though the very act of holding you could undo the horrors you had endured. Your sobs shook his body, each one a dagger to his own heart, and he whispered fervently, words tumbling over themselves in his urgent need to reassure you.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe. You’re okay,” Steve murmured, his voice low and steady, every word soaked in tenderness. 

His lips brushed gently against your hair, then your forehead—anywhere he could press them to make sure you felt his presence, his unwavering protection. “Fuck. Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you, baby? Please talk to me. Please tell me what happened.”

You hiccuped against his chest, shaking your head violently, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt. The sobs wracked your body like a storm barely contained. “I’m not hurt,” you managed, voice trembling between the breaks. “I’m not hurt. I just… I was so scared. I thought you wouldn’t find me. I thought you were never coming.”

Steve’s hands cupped your face, pulling you gently but firmly back so his eyes could meet yours. His own were glassy, heavy with a raw mixture of relief, anger, and a fierce, aching protectiveness. 

“Hey, hey, baby. Listen to me, okay? I will always find you. Always. No matter what. I swear to you, I will never fail to find you. If I have to tear this entire world apart, I will.” His voice cracked, thick with emotion. “I am so, so sorry you had to go through this. None of this was supposed to happen. Not to you.”

Bucky knelt down beside you both, gun still poised and ready, his eyes darting across the room, scanning every shadow. 

But even as his gaze searched for danger, the tension in his jaw softened when he looked at you. His hands twitched, longing to hold you, to pull you close and never let go. The weight of the terror and helplessness he felt twisted inside him, but he masked it behind that cold, calculated exterior—the shield he wore for you.

Steve tightened his arms around you, pulling you as close as if sheer force could erase the nightmare you’d endured. “You’re safe now,” he whispered, voice fierce and desperate. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I won’t let this happen again. I swear it, love. You hear me? Not ever again.”

You nodded, burying your face deep into his chest, your tears still flowing but your body beginning to still, soothed by the warmth and strength that surrounded you. You could feel the electric pulse of fury radiating from both men, a silent promise etched in every tense muscle and guarded breath: no one would ever hurt you again.

Steve carried you gently through the warehouse doors, your trembling form clinging to him as though letting go would mean the end of the world.The black-shaded cars waited silently, engines idling like predatory beasts, their sleek frames reflecting the cold glow of the streetlights.

Just as Steve approached the nearest vehicle, the moment he had intended to set you down, your sobs returned in a fresh, violent wave. Your head pressed into his chest, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt as though it were the only lifeline left in existence.

“No, no, no,” you whimpered, your voice cracking. “Please, don’t leave me alone, Steve. I don’t want to… I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Steve froze for a heartbeat, startled by the raw panic in your tone. Then he pulled you even closer, adjusting his hold so your trembling body could feel the full measure of his arms. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured softly, his lips brushing against the crown of your head. “I am right here. I am not leaving you. I just have to go for a minute to deal with something, alright?”

You shook your head frantically, the motion urgent and insistent. “No, Steve. I don’t want to be alone!”

His lips pressed against your chest, just above your heart, in a tender, grounding gesture. “Bucky will be here with you, yeah? I will not let you be alone. He is not going anywhere.”

The mere mention of Bucky’s name brought an almost immediate relief, a shiver of hope that ran through your body. You lifted your gaze and saw him standing a few feet away, his broad frame illuminated by the pale light, eyes locked on you with unwavering concern. 

He began to close the distance, and as he wrapped an arm securely around you, your shoulders began to relax, the tension of terror easing into a fragile comfort.

Steve and Bucky exchanged a brief, loaded glance. Steve gave a subtle nod, one that acknowledged the mission still waiting for him inside, and then turned back toward the warehouse, likely to confront Vincent or ensure no other threats remained.

Bucky, meanwhile, pressed a kiss to your hair before pulling you fully into his chest, the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing acting like a balm on your frayed nerves. “You okay, sweet girl?” he murmured, his voice husky but gentle.

You nodded, still letting your face rest against him. “Mhm. I just… I just want to go back home.”

He smiled softly, the kind of smile that held both relief and quiet adoration. “Yeah. Let’s go, doll. Steve and Natasha will be following us shortly. You’re safe. I promise you that.”

Bucky led you to the car, holding your hand as you climbed into the passenger seat. He helped you buckle your seatbelt, making sure you were secure before pressing a tender kiss into your temple. 

“You’re such a strong girl, you know that?” he said, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek as his gaze lingered on you. “Even when you’re scared, you never stop being strong. And I will always make sure you are safe. I swear to you, nothing will hurt you again while I am here.”

You leaned back against the seat, letting yourself sink into the reassurance of his arms and words. 

The ride back is silent, except for the occasional rustle of Bucky’s jacket as he shifts the wheel with white-knuckled precision. His jaw is clenched so tight you’re surprised his teeth haven’t cracked. The streets blur by in a haze of golden light and dust, but all you can see is his reflection in the window—stone-faced, lethal, ruined.

When you get home, he doesn’t say anything. He just lifts you gently from the car like you weigh nothing, carrying you through the front door and past the wide marble halls of the estate. 

In the bathroom, he sits you on the counter. He kneels to untie your shoes and slips them off with reverent hands, as if even your shoelaces had been bruised by the day. He’s quiet. Too quiet.

Then, the water starts. Warm. Steaming. He helps you undress, moving slowly like you might shatter if he rushes, and washes away the dirt, the blood, the dust of the place you were kept. He doesn’t speak—not when he rinses your hair, not when he runs a cloth over your back. But his hands shake. Like he’s barely holding it together.

When you’re finally dry and warm again, wrapped in one of his shirts, you follow him to the bedroom. He sets you down on the edge of the bed and disappears for a second, returning with a small medical kit.

“Hold still, doll,” he murmurs as he kneels in front of you.

Your wrists are red and irritated. Rope burns in angry circles. He takes his time cleaning them, brushing ointment over the raw skin with careful fingers. You wince once, and he pauses immediately, looking up.

“Sorry,” he breathes, voice breaking just a little. “I’ll be gentle.”

You nod, throat tight.

He finishes bandaging the last wrist and kisses it. 

Then comes the conversation you’ve been dreading.

“From now on,” Bucky began slowly, his voice soft but resolute, “you don’t leave the house without Natasha. Not for a second. Not even to step outside the door alone.”

You blink, caught off guard by the suddenness of his words. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said again, his tone firmer this time, though still gentle. “You don’t go anywhere unless Nat is with you. I mean it.”

A tight knot formed in your stomach, twisting with frustration. “Bucky, that’s insane. I’m not a child.”

He stayed kneeling before you, looking up with those steady eyes that always seemed to see right through you. “You’re not a child, no. But you’re ours. And after what happened…” He swallowed hard, the weight of those words hanging heavily between you. “We can’t afford to take that risk again. Not ever.”

You let out a sharp breath, the frustration bubbling up from deep inside your chest. “Natasha has better things to do than babysit me. She’s not just my bodyguard. She’s your partner—your right hand in this whole business, this mafia world you live in. She probably wants to be out there, running things, making moves. Not stuck following me to classes or running errands or… whatever boring stuff fills my days.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Boring?”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I know her. She’s the kind of woman who thrives on action. On plans. On missions. I don’t want her to feel trapped just because she’s with me.”

He reached out then, his rough hands enveloping yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “Doll, trust me when I say Natasha wouldn’t get bored with you. Not for a second.”

You looked away, embarrassed by how vulnerable you felt.

“Besides,” he continued, his voice dropping to a softer, almost reverent tone, “you didn’t see what she was like when you went missing. She was just as frantic, just as desperate as Steve and me. Maybe even worse.”

His thumbs brushed lightly over your knuckles. “She sees you as her little sister.”

A sting burned at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

At that moment, the door creaked open. Steve stepped inside quietly.

He looked clean now, the dark clothes he wore fresh and unblemished—not like the bloodstained ones from before. You realized with a cold knot in your stomach that those had belonged to someone else.

Without a word, he walked over to you, cupped your face gently, and pressed a kiss to your temple. Your eyes fluttered closed at the simple touch.

Then he settled beside you on the bed. For a long moment, he said nothing, only resting a steady hand on your thigh. 

“You scared the hell out of us,” he says finally. His voice is rough. Almost hoarse. “I thought I was going to kill everyone in that building.”

You open your mouth, but he’s already shaking his head.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers. “Just... promise me you’ll be more careful.”

“I didn’t choose this,” you say quietly. “I didn’t know he’d grab me—”

“I know, baby girl.” His hand tightens on your leg. “It’s not your fault. None of it is. But it’s why we need to protect you. Even if you hate it.”

You turn then, shifting on the bed so you’re facing Steve fully. Your hands come up to cradle his face, thumbs brushing over the stubble lining his jaw. His eyes—those stormy blues still heavy with worry—soften just a fraction under your touch.

“I know you won’t let me be alone again,” you murmur, voice small but steady. “I know that. But don’t you think… maybe it’s a little too much, having Natasha follow me everywhere?”

Your sentence cuts off when Steve exhales sharply, a sigh heavy enough to sag his shoulders. His big hand comes up to cover one of yours where it rests against his cheek, holding it there like it’s his anchor.

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, voice low and rough around the edges. “I don’t care if it sounds like too much. You have to understand… when we didn’t know where you were, when Sam came in and told us you were gone—I swear, I couldn’t breathe. I thought I’d already lost you. And I can’t—” His voice catches, and he swallows hard, shaking his head as if he can banish the thought. 

“I can’t ever feel that again. So if that means Natasha shadows you every second of the day, then that’s what’s happening. I need you safe. I need you here.”

Your chest tightens at the rawness in his tone. He presses his forehead to yours, his breath shaky as if he’s still pulling himself back from the edge.

“I can’t lose you,” Steve whispers, softer now, almost like a prayer. “So just… let me take care of you. Please.”

Before you can respond, Bucky’s voice rumbles beside you, quiet but firm.

“He’s right, doll.” You glance over at him, and the sight of him—still crouched near, still watching you like you’re the only thing that matters—makes your throat ache. 

You bite your lip, looking down, but Bucky tips your chin up gently with his finger, forcing you to meet his eyes. They’re bright with conviction, but also unbearably soft.

“We’re not asking for much. Just… let us keep you safe. Let us breathe knowing that Natasha’s there when we can’t be.” His thumb strokes over your jaw. “That woman would tear down the whole world if it meant protecting you.”

Steve hums in agreement, his hand still cupping the side of your face. “Natasha wants to do this. Don’t take that choice away from her.”

Your eyes flick between the two men—the desperation in Steve’s, the fierce devotion in Bucky’s—and the resistance you’d been holding onto starts to crumble.

“I just…” you whisper, voice cracking. “I don’t want to be a problem. I don’t want to drag either of you.”

Bucky shifts then, slips an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his solid warmth while Steve still holds your hand. Sandwiched between them, you feel cocooned, your protest melting beneath the weight of their care.

“Love,” Bucky says softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You could never be a problem. You’re the best damn thing that’s happened to any of us.”

Steve presses a kiss to your temple again, lingering. “All we’re asking is that you let us do our job—keeping you safe. That’s it. You don’t have to carry the weight of whether it’s too much or not. You just have to be here with us.”

For a long moment, you sit in silence, wrapped up in the warmth of their words and their bodies pressed close on either side. Slowly, the tightness in your chest eases, and the tears you’d been fighting finally spill, but this time they’re softer—relief instead of fear.

Steve wipes them away with his thumb before they can trail down your cheeks. “There she is,” he murmurs, smiling faintly. “There’s our girl.”

You let out a shaky laugh, muffled as you bury your face against Steve’s chest, Bucky’s arm tightening around your back.

"good girl"

"thank you daddy" Steve went to the bathroom to clean himself and bring back a wet cloth to clean you up. He wiped away his cum on your inner thighs, pressing a little kiss before bringing you a fresh pair of panties to get into.

" you sure you can convince barnes, he looks like a tough cookie." He said putting your legs into the panties and pulling it up.

" I've seen him Stevie, he's a sweet little puppy waiting to be played with, he needs a playmate and that could me be ."

" sure you don't just wanna play with his balls? "

" that too daddy but there's more, you'll see."

"alright princess i trust you, don't mess this up." He said tucking your blanket in, a pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving.

Bucky came into your office , thinking you called him to talk about your turf wars that's been going on for a few years over your territory.

" you're scared I'm gonna win aren't you sweetheart? " Bucky said standing in your office.

"take a seat barnes" you say sipping your Bourbon

He smirked and sat in the office chair, crossing his legs and leaning back on it as if he owned the place

"Why do you wanna take what's mine?" You ask.

"because I can, and it's mine for the taking" Bucky smirked.

"My grandpa seized it from yours"

"And I'll seize it from you" Bucky replied with more of a sinister smirk.

You only laugh in response.He grins, " what's so funny sweetheart"

"You think you're so tough"

"I am sweetheart" Bucky said with a smirk.

"You're not, you're a little puppy "

Bucky looked at you for a second, not knowing how to respond. He stood up and leaned both his strong arms on your desk " what did you call me sweetheart?"

"puppy"

Bucky was taken aback , he smirked for a moment before leaning closer to you. " you got some guts to be talking to me like that sweetheart"

"Come here little puppy " you beckoned him with your finger."I'm not-" Bucky tried to deny the fact that he was a "puppy" but he sighed and walked around the desk, standing right infront of you.

"Aww you're so good at taking orders puppy" you say grabbing him by his chin.Bucky stood there without saying anything, the fact that he did obey your command even bothered him. "Shut up" he mumbled. "Make me".

Bucky grabbed you by the chin, pulling your face closer to him " watch your tone darling".

"Or what ?"

"Or I'll shut you up myself" He smirked as he leaned closer to your face."Hmm see that's why you're not so tough banres "

"You’re a pain in the goddamn ass sweetheart" he said with a grin.

"and You're still flirting with me "

Bucky didn't deny it, his smirk only grew wider. "So what if I am sweetheart" he said in a low voice .

"How do you expect me to take you seriously ?"

"Just because I'm flirting with you doesn't mean I won't get serious sweetheart" Bucky said as he moved even closer to you .

"I don't know puppy" you say mockingly.

Bucky growled a bit at you calling him a puppy "stop calling me that darling " 

"Aww is my little boo boo getting mad?"

"I'm not getting mad , don't test me sweetheart" Bucky said through gritted teeth. You could easily tell that you were getting under his skin .Bucky leaned closer, his expression darken a bit "you shouldn't tease me darling, it'll end badly for you"

"Little puppy , let me see if I have any treats for you" you open your draw, looking for something.

Bucky looked irritated at you "I am not a f-cking puppy, I'm a god damn mafia boss" he nearly shouted at you.

"Oh I have some toffees you can suck on"

"I don't want any damn toffees" Bucky said in annoyance, but you could see he did kinda want toffees.

"Fine " you say popping one in my mouth , sucking on it.Bucky's eyes locked on to your mouth, watching the way you sucked on the damn toffee. How much he wanted to put something else in your mouth. He clenched his jaw again, trying to keep those thoughts away, yet he found himself leaning closer to you again .

"You sure you don't want it?"

He groaned, unable to resist any longer. Grabbing your chin he pulled you close to his face."F-ck, fine. I want it" he muttered.With those words, he crashed his lips onto yours fiercely. The kiss was rough and hungry, all while his hands gripped your waist tightly ,His tongue pushed inside your mouth, demanding entrance. He pulled you closer to him, his body pressed against yours completely. His hands ran down your waist to your hips, gripping  tightly , he skillfully shifted the toffe to his mouth.Bucky swallowed the toffee, his grip on your hips becoming even tighter. He pulled away from the kiss just enough to speak, his voice low and hoarse " you have way too much goddamn power over me sweetheart And goddamn you taste even more sweeter than the damn toffee" Bucky said as he started kissing your neck, his hands roaming freely over your body. "

You grinned at his confession,"That's why I have a plan " you say pulling him by his collar.

Bucky stopped, pulling away for a second. "a plan? what do you mean?" he asked curiously 

"A truce"

Bucky looked at you for a bit, "a truce? you want to make a truce, sweetheart?" he asked with surprise in his voice .

"Not that kinda truce where you surrender to me puppy." Bucky let out a sigh, clearly annoyed by you calling him a 'puppy' again "and what kind of truce did you have in mind sweetheart?" he asked, raising an eyebrow .

"Although you'd look good on your knees begging "

That comment made Bucky's cheeks flush a bit, a slight glint in his eyes . but he quickly regained his composure and replied "the only one getting on their knees will be you sweetheart." 

"Oh is that right daddy?" Bucky's grip on your hips tighten, the fact you just called him "daddy" made his heart beat faster. He pulled you even closer to him, his lips right next to your ear as he whispered "damn right it is, sweetheart" 

"You'd like to see me on my knees don't you?" You but your lip.

Bucky groaned, his face heating up as the images of you on your knees flashed through  his mind. "yes sweetheart I do" he replied, his voice hoarser than before. He pulled you even closer to him, his body pressing against yours fully. He could feel the heat between us and he knew you did too. 

"You think you deserve it puppy?"

Bucky smirked, his grip on your body tightening. "oh I definitely deserve it sweetheart" he said as he started leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. "You know I'm not the type to beg" his teeth scraped against your skin, leaving marks along your collar bone .

"Guess it'll be your first time" you say pulling him up to your eye level by his collar .

Bucky stopped for a moment, his face flushed and his breaths labored. "I've never begged for anything in my life sweetheart" he said in a low voice. He looked up at you, his gaze burning with desire. "you're a goddamn tease , you know that" he grumbled, one of his hands sliding under your shirt . You swat his hand away.He let out a lowgrowl as you swat his hand away. "don't tease me sweetheart, you know what you're doing to me" his hand quickly shot up and grabbed your wrist, pinning it above your head. "you can't deny you want this just as badly as I do" he said with a smirk .

"On your knees puppy "

Bucky's body tensed as you commanded him. His expression was a mix of defiance and submission, but he knew deep down that he wanted this just as much as you did. Without another word, he dropped to his knees in front of you, looking up at you with a mixture of desire and irritation. "happy now, sweetheart?" he grumbled 

He let out a soft moan as your hand made contact with his face. He looked up at you, a mixture of pleasure and surprise in his eyes. He loved the way you were taking control, and he couldn't deny the effect it was having on him. "F-ck, that felt good sweetheart" he said, his voice hoarse and strained. "You like seeing me on my knees like this, don't you?" 

Bucky couldn't help but let out another moan as you slapped him again. He loved the way this played like a cat and a mouse. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire and just a hint of annoyance. "Damn you're good at this sweetheart" he muttered as he leaned into your touch, his body craving more of your dominance. "You really do like seeing me at your mercy, don't you?" 

"I think you like it more puppy " you say grabbing a fistful of his hair, bringing his face to your clothes pussy.

Bucky couldn't deny the truth in your words, he was loving every moment of this. Despite his usual dominant personality, there was something about being submissive for you that felt so right. "F-ck I do, I love submitting for you sweetheart" he confessed, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're a goddamn tease, making me go all soft like this" he grunted. "But I'd let you do anything, sweetheart. You have a f-cking power over me I can't explain" 

"Fuck sugar, that right? You're that much of a desperate slut, you want my best friends cock?"

"Uh-huh" you nodded, nearly going cross eyed, making an utter mess all over the dark blond curls at the base of Steve's cock. He didn't stop his harsh thrusts as the door clicked open, your body guard striding into the office, his cock already rock hard.

"Hey pretty girl" Bucky cooed, smirking at how cockdrunk you were while he rounded he corner of the desk to where you were splayed across Steve's lap where he sat in his office chair. He traced your pouty bottom lip before slipping his thumb into your mouth, humming in satisfaction at the way you sucked it, moaning around the metal digit.

"Go on, finish what I started" Steve nodded while you squeaked as Bucky picked up you up effortlessly off of Steve's cock, and tossing you over his shoulder.

"Need my cock, huh Bambi, that all?" Bucky's wide palm rubbed your sore ass where Steve had spanked you, turning over to place a quick kiss onto the hot skin before laying you down on the table. You let out a needy moan at the sound of his belt hitting the floor, so deep in subby space, spreading your legs extra wide as he pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock.

"Look at that, such a good girl, spreading her legs for me" Bucky leaned over to take a good look at you, your dazed expression and wiggling hips making his balls impossibly heavy. "Wanna show Steve how well you take my cock baby? Show him how I make you moan and cum, n'how I play with that cute little button between your legs?"

"Mph, Bucky please" You whined, pouting at the disappointed tsk Bucky made.

"That's not what you call me Bambi, c'mon, whose cock do you want, say it"

"Fuck me, Sergeant-OH-MY-GODD" You cried out as Bucky slammed into you, setting in a brutal pace without waring, your body bouncing against the desk as he gripped onto your hips.

"That's-it-good girl-good. fucking. girl" Bucky snarled through gritted teeth, slamming your body down onto his cock, his head thrown back, moving one hand to wrap around your neck. He was too enamored with you to notice the way Steve's hand was wrapped around his cock, working his swollen, silky tip, watching his pretty princess take his best friend like her life depended on it.

Bucky spat right onto your clit, rubbing tight circles around you with a feral look on his face feeling you squeeze around him, bending your thighs up till they hit your chest, hitting a deeper angle.

"Feel that? M'so deep in your pussy baby, s'fuckin' deep, can feel your little clit throbbing, it's all swollen huh Bambi, you're soaking my cock, make a mess all over it princess, it's all yours"

"Sergeant-gonna-I-" You couldn't forumalte words, tears streaming down your face and falling onto the desk under you, the band in your belly ready to snap-

"You gonna cum for my best friend babygirl?" Steve's focus was locked in at where Bucky was connected to you, watching his cock slam in and out of your tight cunt, stretching you wide open, his own cock growing impossibly harder, "Fuck, you're a dirty slut, I'm gonna-fuck m'cumming" Steve's voice was breathless, his chest heaving as he worked his cock faster, eyes rolling back as white streams of cream decorated his black shirt, nearly shooting to his beard. "Holy shit"

"BUCKY M'CU-UMINGG" You wailed, your back arching off the table, screaming with every muscle in your body pulled taught. You couldn't tell where your orgasm began or where it ended, unending waves of pleasure drowning you while Bucky began to chase his own.

"Cum for your Sergeant baby, that's it, such a good girl, you make my cock so hard Bambi, y'feel so good, not gonna last, shittt-HNG" Bucky let out a guttural moan, not giving a fuck that Steve was right there, pumping you full of his cum until his balls were empty and his cock was soft. He tucked himself back in his pants before removing his shirt to wipe you down and picking you up, letting you wrap yourself around him like a koala. Your boyfriend followed closely behind, smirking at the needy noise you made, checking to see that Steve was also coming for some post sex naps, sighing contently when you saw him following near by.

You were dating Johnny Storm. Everything was going well, the meeting was story worthy, he was handsome, charming and had some good qualities you were looking for. This was the first relationship you got into since entering the film industry. Because you may be a hopeless romantic, but you were also choosy.

You didn’t know what happened in the process that just torpedoed your budding relationship. One day you were walking out of a cafe hand-in-hand and the next day, he was fucking some modelling sensation. Maybe you got lost in translation.

Or maybe he was just a fucking asshole. No matter what happened it showed you his true colors. That or instead of coming to you to talk out his issues, he went around, fucking and ghosted you.

Oh, but that was not the problem. The real problem was that you were shooting a movie with him. A romantic movie, with sex scenes. And you have no idea how you would be able to show any affection or chemistry on the screen without being awkward as fuck. This would be the best test of your acting skills for sure.

“Why do you look like you regret being born?” your friend and manager, Wanda asked as she entered your room.

You glanced at her and rolled your eyes. She was trying to lighten your melancholic mood but, it was of no use. “You know damn well why.”

She sighed. “I know, but you’re a great actress. You could easily pull off a serial killer then a rom-com is nothing for you. Don’t get worked up about it. Just imagine your celebrity crush instead.”

You laughed at that. You worked with people whom the masses considered celebrity and if you had a crush, you’d simply ask them out. So, you’re stuck in that department.

“I appreciate your support and I’ll get over this. Just give me some time. Is that why you came here?”

Wanda shook her head with a smile. “No, actually the PR guy told me to tell you to go to partage restaurant. Someone wants to meet you.”

You frowned. “You know if I started giving time to ‘someones’ then I won’t even be able to breathe. I need the specifics.”

“He didn’t tell me. Said the person didn’t want to be known till you meet them. But he said you need to go or they’ll be pissed and it could pose a problem to your career.”

Some rich asshole again. You pinched your nose in frustration. People really glamorised a celeb’s life but if they knew that you all have to play rich people’s puppets, they wouldn’t be so enthusiastic about it. 

“Fine, I’ll go. What time and day?”

“8 p.m Sunday.”

“Great. Now get lost, I need my beauty sleep.”

Your heels clicked on the floor as you stepped inside the restaurant to utter silence. 

The usually bustling restaurant was deserted. There was no violin swimming in the air, mingling with the chatter of the expensive people, the polished tables had no spilled drinks and the fine plates had no leftovers. The lobby had no sight of a reception and all the staff had evaporated out of existence. You were half doubting yourself that maybe you arrived at the wrong time or date. Maybe the restaurant was closed.

But all of them vanished when a prim and proper lady approached you. You had never seen her before but you didn’t care to ask if she was new.

“Good evening, ma’am, you may go to the VIP area upstairs. Sir is waiting for you there.” She said in a professional voice.

“Yeah, sure. But can I ask why the restaurant is empty?”

“He booked the entire restaurant.” She said like it was the most normal thing in the world. It was not like this place costed more than the top-paying actors in the Hollywood.

You thanked the woman with a polite smile you went upstairs to get to the VIP section.

The he made you shudder from inside. Another sleazy old man who thought that you would open your legs for him just because he was rich was awaiting you and judging by the stunt he pulled. You’d have to be more tactful.

Reaching the shiny golden doors with a lion emblem, separating the demi-gods from the gods, you knocked on the door of the VIP room.

“Come in.” A thick and deep voice called out, making you frown. How come an old man has such a great voice?

Oh, but how wrong you were. Because, as soon as you opened the door, in front of you, sat a man who was far from aged. He was pure muscles. His rings sparkled in the chandelier lights. Draped in the finest black suit with his blonde hair combed back, sat none other than Steve Rogers, the mafia lord of New York. The one who you have been trying to avoid your entire career. Who posed as a successful businessman but everyone was aware of how he earned his dollars. Just, they were too afraid to acknowledge it.

You couldn’t move an inch, frozen from fear and surprise. You had only met him once, during the premiere of your debut film and people had acted like he wasn’t someone who could wipe them off from the face of the earth without even blinking an eye. That night, his eyes were glued to you like Hades's gaze on Persephone. So intense and consuming that you never wanted to see him again.

And now, here you were.

“Sit down, darling.” He husked out, the sound of alcohol filling his glass reverberating through the walls.

Breaking out of your trance with a gulp. You pulled out the chair and sat down across from him while your heart was in your throat. “Good evening, Mr. Rogers. What brings me the pleasure of your company.’ You managed to get out without your voice cracking.

He smirked and leaned back on his chair. “It’s your beauty, your talent and your creativity that brings you here, sweetheart. I’m a big fan of art and beautiful things, you are both of them.”

“Thank you…” You drawl out, expecting him to continue.

“I liked you the moment I saw you. In your pink dress, you looked so innocent, so shy. Overwhelmed by the media attention. I knew you would do something big so I gave you the freedom to shine and shine you did. However, it looks like your freedom has got to your head.” The last sentence was said with a lower voice and an ominous smile.

Your hands became sweaty as they clamped down on the armrest. “I’m not getting what you are trying to say.” You whispered out. 

His chuckle only made your heartbeat faster as he leaned forward and his gaze bore into your soul. “Let me rephrase, I claimed you the moment I saw you. But I knew you had potential so I let you go but your little dance with Johnny Storm made me realise it was time you became mine.”

“What-what did you do?” You choked out but you weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer.

You yelped as he yanked your chair closer towards him till your knees were touching. Your chest moved rapidly as he leaned closer, his hands covering yours on the armrest.

“Awww, don’t play stupid, honey. Johnny, he’s a himbo and you are mine,” He said as his left hand moved to caress your cheek as you flinched away from his touch. “So, I pulled some strings, fed some mouths with dollars and your cute little on-set romance came to an end.” Your eyes widened in horror as he was the one that ended your relationship with Johnny. 

He gripped your face in his big hand and turned your head so that his eyes burned through yours. “Trust me, honey, I was generous with him. I could have him disappear and no one would have given a shit.”

“No.” You whispered, wrenching his hands away. You suddenly stood up from your chair, effectively surprising him.

“No?”

“That is not happening. I don’t want to be with you, I’m sorry.”  You stumbled back to the door but before you could touch the doorknob, you were whirled around and pushed against it.

“When did I tell you, you could say no?” Steve growled his hand wrapping around your throat. “If you think you can reject me then you are sorely mistaken, darling. Don’t forget that the production house you work with the most is mine.” 

You gasped. How could it be his? It was of Tony Stark, you scorched the earth and back and found no such connection. 

Steve noticed your reaction and tsked.“You didn’t know? Don’t worry, you are not stupid sweetheart. The public doesn’t know that Stark is nothing but my pawn.” His other hand snaked around to squeeze your ass through your jeans and you screwed your eyes shut as his touch sent tingles through your body and your breaths became shorter.

He tugged you closer to him with your neck, his breath fanning over your skin. “Now, do you still want to be stubborn?”

Now, you were no dumbo. If Steve can jeopardize your relations with his production then he can also ruin your entire career. Mob involvement in the film industry is an unsaid rule. However, you didn’t know their claws were so deep and sharp.

“And what if I leave? Leave this industry?” What could be more precious than your pride?

He gave you a lopsided grin. “Then you’ll just be the wife of Steve Rogers who was an actress. Remember princess, I’ll never leave you alone. If I held onto you for three years what makes you think I’ll not find you and drag you to my hell?” 

Tears threatened your waterline as you murmured. “You are really forcing me?” What a stupid question to be asking a mobster.

He let out a throaty chuckle and moved his hand from your neck to his pant pocket however he was still invading your private space as his lips were inches away from your lips. “I’m giving you options: either come willingly or I’ll force you. Your choice, darling.” 

He fished out a silver card from his pocket, tracing the sharp and cold edges of it on your face, meandering down your neck and stopping only when it reached the valley of your breast. You gasped harshly when he slid the card inside your bra, the chilled hard paper resting against your warm skin.

“My number, call me when you make a decision. You have one week.”  He whispered against your lips before sealing the unspoken vow with a kiss.

With that he slipped away from your body and took his seat again like dark clouds gilding away from the moon before shortly, engulfing it once again. He resumed sipping from his glass like nothing serious happened and said nonchalantly. “You can go now.” 

You ran to your car like you were burned. Which you were, your soul was burning. Burning from the choices you were given. Which was essentially choosing which cage you preferred better, golden or grey.

“Did you like the dinner?” Steve asked in his deep voice as he sat across from you at the dining table.

Blinking your eyes away from the full moon that shone outside the dining room window, you glanced at Steve and nodded. “Yes, I liked it.” 

You did come to him willingly in the end, after all, what choice did you have? The moment you admitted your defeat and called Steve flashed in front of your eyes. His smug and triumphant words ringing in your ears.

“Nice choice, princess.”

“You seem to like the moon a lot,” Steve observed as his piercing gaze never left you, noting your every move and reaction.

You looked down at your hands, clasped in front of you. His presence still sent chills of fear down your spine. His imposing figure and intense gaze made your heart race. Not to mention the way his eyes sparkled with desire and lust whenever they laid upon you.

“Yes, the night is beautiful.” You replied softly.

“Do you want to go upstairs? In the balcony for a better view? I also have a very pretty garden.” Steve offered and you refrained from frowning. 

From the moment you accepted his advances, Steve has been acting like the perfect lover. Sending flowers, expensive gifts, wanting to have nice and deep conversations and supporting you in your work. But still, you couldn’t decipher if he was actually being nice or plain manipulative.

However, you had grown tired, sitting and chatting in the room, the walls suffocating you. “I would like that.”

Steve grinned and stood up from his chair, taking a few long strides he reached you and offered you his hand. “Let’s go.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, slipping your hand in his, you got up. You sucked a sharp breath when his hand tightened around your smaller one and his eyes grew darker. You ignored the building tension as he led you upstairs, to the balcony.

His mansion was spectacular, painted beige with marble murals. It resembled old French castles with intricate paintings from Greek mythology on walls to railing carved with various plant and flower motifs.

When he said he enjoyed beauty, he wasn’t bluffing.

Stepping on the top floor, there was a lounge area with a fireplace on the right and a couch on the left. In front was the glass door leading to the balcony. Steve opened the door and you had to hold back your gasp as the view was absolutely breathtaking. 

It had the same marble railing as before and also had a sitting space for two people with two chairs and one glass table, perfect for a cosy morning or evening. The balcony ran along the entire top floor, connected with all the rooms.

However, the main highlight was the enormous garden that stood before your eyes. Tall trees were perched vertically of all types, some bearing fruits, some flowers and some none. Speaking of flowers, bright, colourful flowers adorned the garden like jewels. Rose, jasmine, sunflower, etc scattered all over with moonlight pouring on them.

It was straight out of a princess movie and you could spend your entire life wandering inside it, reading books under the tree shade.

“It’s gorgeous.” You whispered to Steve as you stepped forward, leaning on the railing.

“I know, my mother made it. She wanted me to keep the garden big and flourishing. So, I put everything I could to keep it perfect.” Steve revealed and moved behind you, his body pressing against yours.

You were so engrossed in gazing at the garden that you missed his hand coming to cover yours and he laid a soft kiss on your cheek.

“What are you doing?” You questioned as you tried to step away from his grip but he had you trapped.

“Enjoying my view,” He said as he gripped your hips and pressed them against him, his semi-hard cock pressing against your ass. “See what you do to me?”

His lips trailed down, kissing and sucking on your neck. His left hand travelled from your hips to your breast, he squeezed the underside of your tities while grinding his erection against your bottom. Your breathing was getting heavy as he continued to massage your boobs and sucked on your neck, collarbone and shoulder.

You had to refrain from biting your lips. His strong body and demanding moves were making you unwillingly wet. But he forced you into a relationship you didn’t want, you didn’t want this, right?

“I don’t want to do it.” You whispered despite wanting nothing but his hands under your scarlet dress.

“No?” He chuckled. “Let’s check, shall we?” He whispered seductively in your ear.

Your eyes widened as you thrashed in his grip but he stopped all your attempts to deny the truth with a hand around your neck and a squeeze that made you go still. His other hand glided under your dress and found your panties damp.

“Your pussy proved you wrong, princess.” He said with a smug laugh. He sucked at your pulse point as his fingers moved your lace panties aside and caressed your folds. The suddenness made you let out a choked moan as your hold tightened on the railing.

His words embarrassed you but you couldn’t deny that his touch was making your body betray you. He played your body like an instrument.

His fingers ran along your petals, spreading your arousal and brushing your clit, his index finger teasing your entrance when he abruptly stopped.

You blinked, gasping and panting. You were about to glance at him in confusion when he bent you over, your head resting against the marble railing as he went down on his knees, bunching up your dress around your waist. He ripped off your panties, the sound heating your cheeks with humiliation.

“You deserve to be punished.” He said through gritted teeth as he slapped your clit, making you jerk at the delicious sting as he spread your legs wider for him so your pussy was on full display. Wet and ready.

“Spank your ass till it’s burning for going out with that pathetic excuse of a man Johnny or have Bucky watch you as I fuck you senseless. He’s also a fan after all." He spread your labia and sucked on your clit, making you moan out loud as your stomach flipped.

“But I can’t, because this pussy is too tempting of a distraction.” He lamented as his lips went down to your pussy and his tongue teased your cunt with slow yet precise strokes.

Your left hand moved to his hair and tugged on the blonde locks as his administration made your clit pulsate with need. You couldn’t decipher whether you wanted him to stop or continue.

He tutted on you pulling his hair. You whimpered at the loss of his mouth on your pussy when the clicking of his belt echoed in the empty space. He yanked both your hands behind your back and secured them in place with his belt, the grip firm but not harsh. 

“No.Touching.” He growled in your ear as his words were accentuated by a slap on each of your buttcheeks, making you whimper in pain and pleasure as you let your forehead rest against the cool marble and he knelt again.

He took your clit in his mouth again but with more ferocity as your pussy clenched around nothing, “Oh my god, Steve yes!” You mewled.

“Captain or I won’t let you cum.” He commanded as his fingers joined in and drew slow and teasing circles around your cunt.

“Captain, please.” You pleaded as your orgasm started to build up in your stomach.

“Good girl, that’s my good girl.” He finally eased his index finger inside of you, his thick and long finger filling your pussy and you were afraid as to how you were going to take his cock as his finger alone stretched your vagina.

He pumped his finger in and out of you all the while kissing and sucking your clit. When you bucked into his finger he added another one, exploring your velvety walls to find your spot that would make you sing. He curled his fingers when you dripped around his fingers and mouth.

“Mhmm, captain. Feels so good.” You cried out as your climax was approaching you faster, your skin glistening with sweat under the pale moonlight. It was so embarrassing, being this crying and moaning mess he had turned you into. His hands kneading your thighs and ass.

“Are you going to cum, princess?” Steve asked in a husky voice as he kept up his pace, replacing his mouth with his thumb to grow circles around the bundle of nerves,

Your skin was on ablaze, the coil tightening in your belly as you were tethering on the of falling apart. “Yes, Captain. Please let me cum.” You requested, spellbound. He didn’t need to ask you to beg, you were already sliding into your subspace. His finger found your g spot as he twisted his fingers, making you whimper as your breath shuddered.

He snickered, sending vibrations through your body. “I didn’t know you were so obedient, good to know.”His hand came down on your clit and it was the final straw that threw you over the edge. 

You came with a loud moan as the blinding pleasure brought tears to your eyes and you gushed around his lips and fingers, coating his chin. He lapped all your juice, his pace not halting as he drank your nectar greedily.

Your body was quivering from the force of your orgasm, your heart racing as you tried to collect yourself.

Steve got up on his feet and you almost collapsed when he wrapped a sturdy hand around your shaking body, pressing you against his chest. He jutted your chin up and grinned down at you. “Aw, you already look so fucked out darling but it’s just the beginning, we have the whole night.” He smashed his lips with yours, swallowing your tired whimpers and moans.

After devouring your mouth and leaving you breathless. He picked you up and started walking to his left. You were too dizzy to notice your surroundings till you were hitting silk bed sheet and plush mattress. You glanced at Steve through your hazy vision as he stood at the end of the bed.

He smirked down at you. “How about you return the favour, sweetheart? Strip.” He ordered and it was enough to clear your mind of any hangover.

Your hand snaked to your back and you slid down the zipper and pulled off your dress, your breast clad in red lace coming into view as you completely removed the dress and discarded it on the floor.

You then unclasped your bra, trepidation and anticipation mingling together as your boobs spilled out. Now, you were completely naked, your panties already torn and tossed away.

“On your hands and knees.” He commanded as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt, his abs and chest made your mouth water and you wanted to grab and touch him but shook away the thoughts.

You got on your hands and knees, clothes rustling till the bed dipped behind you. Steve ran his hand up your spine, sneaking underneath to grop your breast. You mewled as his thumb tweaked your pebbled nipples, twisting and flickering the buds till you were writhing under him.

His other hand smacked your ass, causing you to whimper. “Spread your legs more, I want to see that pussy.”

You spread your legs some more, displaying your glistening cunt to Steve’s hungry gaze. “You have such a pretty pussy.” He said as he played with you enough that you were whining before he rubbed the tip of his cock over your cunt, spreading your arousal and his pre cum.

You shuddered, you had an inclining that he was big but how much? That you didn’t know since you couldn’t see his dick from your position.

He slapped the head of his cock on your pussy and you visibly shuddered. He did it a few more times before you were dripping for him and was on the verge of sobbing in frustration. 

“Such a shame that it is about to get ruined by my big cock.” He declared and pushed the tip inside you. You moaned as you awaited your eventual mounting.

You clutched the silky sheets as he slowly bottomed out, your walls spasmed as they tried to accommodate his length. You were so full already and he was gracious enough to give you time to adjust. All the while he explored your body, kissing your spine, kneading and spanking your thighs, ass and breasts. His touch was electrifying and in no time, you were whimpering for him to move.

“Ah, someone is getting impatient.” Steve mocked but began moving out of your hot channel. He was slow and deliberate, his girth dragged through your walls and your pussy fluttered.

He hissed. “Don’t do that darling if you want to walk the next day.” He pulled out all the way, only the tip remained inside. Pushing your head further into the pillow as he slammed inside your cunt in one stroke, taking your breath away.

“Look at your pussy, pulling me in and clenching around me,” He grunted as his hold on your hips tightened. He looked where you two were connected and sighed in awe. “I didn’t know you were such a slut, you look so innocent. But look at you now, dripping around a man’s dick you barely know,” He pulled out again and thrusted back in with the same power. The slow yet rough pace he set made you cry out in pleasure as your climax started to stir in your lower belly again. “But I like how cockdrunk you are that you just don’t give a shit anymore.” He groaned and pulled out.

He changed his angle slightly and when he thrusted back again, he hit your g-spot and you screamed, flames of pleasure intensifying. He tugged you by the hair, pressing you against his toned chest. “Tell me that you are my slut.” He growled in my ear.

“I’m your slut, Captain!” you said breathlessly as his deep thrusts made you gasp.

His hand came to your clit and his thumb started drawing circles, making you tremble in his grip. “Yes, you are my slut. My fuck toy, who would let me do whatever I want and whenever I want with her because I own you now. Repeat what I have said.” He thrusted harder and if it wasn't for his strong grip, you would have fallen down. 

“I'm your fuck toy. You can do whatever you want and whenever you want with me because you own me now.” You cried. 

“Such a good obedient girl- Ahh, taking my cock so well. Now, you are going to ask me to make you cum.” He groaned his thumb sped up. Leaning down, he sucked on your pulse point, surely leaving a hickey, marking you as his.

“Please Captain, let me cum! Let me cum around your big cock.” You squealed out. Tilting your face upwards he kissed, hard and rough, you moaned against his lips as you tasted yourself on him.

“Good girl, now cum for me.” He demanded as fingers and thumb pinched your clit, his cock hitting your sweet spot in quick succession.

You shrieked ‘captain’ as you came around his girth, squirting on his dick. “Good, what a good little slut for your captain.” He moaned in satisfaction as he nibbled at your earlobe, fucking you through your release. 

He let go of you when your shaking died down. Your face fell on the pillow as you tried to catch your breath. Your fucked out mind didn’t register that he didn’t come till you were being flipped on your back. Coming face-to-face with his annoyingly handsome face.

“You didn’t think it was over, did you?” He rasped with a smirk as he plunged into your cunt once again, but this time with more fervour.

You instantly mewled but the overstimulation and coming two times had worn you out, you weren’t used to this. You attempted to scoot away from Steve. “I-I can’t, too much.” 

He pulled you back down on his cock, wrapping your legs around his waist. He restrained your hands over his head with one hand, leaving you unable to escape the pleasure he was giving you. “You can and you will. Get used to it, sweetheart. I’m being gentle right now,” He growled as he moved on top of you.

The pace was rough and fast, the bed rattling with each thrust, your boobs jiggled from the speed. He placed his hand on your lower stomach. “Do you feel me here?” He asked, the belly bulge sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes, I do, Captain.” You managed to choke out as he pounded in your pussy mercilessly.

“Then enjoy it, honey. Enjoy, writhing and moaning underneath me. My cock stretching your tight cunt, because that’s where you belong. Taking my cock like a good little fuck doll.” He husked as the force of his thrust increased with each passing second. The pain and pleasure mixing made tears fall from your eyes, the knot tightening yet again.

Steve leaned over you, kissing your tears, trailing down to your neck and then your boobs, groping and licking the plump area before taking your pebbled nipples into his hot mouth.

“Oh my god!” Your back arched, pleasure zapping through your body like thunder as his hot tongue sucked on your nipples and his hand massaged your other breast. All the while his thick cock rammed into you, his pubic areas brushing your clit.

Your hands jolted to touch him but he had your hands pinned above. You shut your eyes and enjoyed the unyielding pleasure he was bestowing upon you as pressure built up for the third time in your stomach. Your moans and his grunts bounced off the wall, so did the clapping sound of skin slapping against the skin.

Suddenly, his grasp loosened before coolness touched your ring finger. You looked up as he slid a beautiful sapphire ring into your finger, sealing your fate with his forever. You managed out a surprised gasp. He brought your hand down and pinned it to your side, giving you a proper view of the ring as it sparkled under the stark glowing moon.

“Imagine me, sweetheart,” Your breath caught in your throat as his speed grew frantic, his cock hitting the deepest part of your cunt as he chased his own release. “Imagine me when you have to romance on screen with some pitiful A-list actor.” He whispered in your ear, intertwining your hands with his as he kissed your lips. It was softer than the previous ones but no less demanding.

“Imagine me when you have to pretend to fuck someone on set. Because I know,” He whispered against your lips before lowering his hand to your clit and he drew fast circles on the bundle of nerves to help you fall apart. 

Steve cursed under his breath and thrusted faster when your walls clenched his dick. “Because I know that I have ruined you for any other man. Ruined this pussy for anyone except me. So, imagine me when you kiss a man and realize that he’ll never make you feel this good.” You nodded along his words as tears streamed down your cheeks, smearing your eyeliner and mascara but he paid no heed to it. Rather, enjoying your fucked out state.

The fullness of his dick inside your pussy and the overwhelming stimulation finally tipped you over the edge as you came the hardest and it hit you like a tsunami.

After some more brutal thrust, he came inside of you with a loud groan. His hot cum spilling inside your abused cunt as it milked him dry. He pumped into you a few more times, giving you every last drop of his seed and staying inside your warm channels till his cock softened.

He put his forehead against yours as he finally pulled out and you almost whined at the loss of dick but restrained yourself as his cum leaked out of your hole.

Only heavy breaths echoed in the spacious room as both of you caught your breath. You were beyond regaining your previous strength as you couldn’t even move a muscle. However, Steve recovered shortly afterwards as he kissed your forehead and whispered smugly. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.” 

She stood tall, though her hands trembled slightly as she faced Steve. "I came to see if there's anything I can do to help," she said, her voice steady despite the situation.

Steve's eyes flicked to her, taking in every detail—the determination in her eyes, the way she held herself, the subtle strength she tried to project. For a moment, he said nothing, simply observing her.

"Your sister?" Steve asked, turning his gaze back to Mr. Walker.

HE nodded quickly, his breath coming in short, desperate bursts. "Y-Yes, she's my sister. Please, Steve, don't involve her in this. This is my mess; I'll find a way to fix it."

But Steve was no longer listening to him. His attention was fully on Y/N now, and an idea began to form in his mind. He could see the fear in her eyes, yes, but also something more—an unspoken strength that intrigued him.

"You came here to help your brother," Steve said slowly, standing up and walking around the table toward her. He was towering over her now, his presence as intimidating as it was commanding. "But helping him may come at a price."

Y/N held her ground, refusing to back away even as Steve loomed over her. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

A slow, cold smile curved Steve’s lips. "Your brother's debt," he said, glancing briefly at her brother before turning back to Y/N, "is substantial. But, I could be persuaded to forgive it."

his eyes widened in shock, his breath catching in his throat. "What… what do you mean?"

Steve didn't answer him. Instead, he took a step closer to Y/N, his eyes locking onto hers. "You," he said softly, though his voice carried an undeniable weight. "You stay with me. In return, your brother walks away, debt-free."

The room fell into a deathly silence. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel the weight of her brother's desperate gaze on her. She knew what this meant—what Steve Rogers was asking of her. The choice was impossible, yet she knew, deep down, that she had no real choice at all.

"I—" she started, but the words caught in her throat. Steve’s eyes softened, but just barely. There was no real kindness there, only a calculating interest.

"Think carefully," Steve said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "Your brother's life hangs in the balance. But with me, you will be protected. No harm will come to you—as long as you stay by my side."

Y/N swallowed hard, her mind racing. She glanced at her brother, who was shaking his head frantically, tears streaming down his face. But she knew, just as well as he did, that there was no escaping this. Steve Rogers had made his offer, and she had to decide.

With a deep breath, Y/N nodded, her eyes never leaving Steve’s. "I’ll do it," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I’ll stay with you."

Steve’s smile widened, and he reached out, gently lifting her chin so she was forced to look up at him. "Good," he murmured, his voice dangerously smooth. "Very good."

He turned to Mr. Walker, who had collapsed to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. "The debt is forgiven," Steve said coldly. "But remember this day, Walker. Remember what it cost."

Without another word, Steve took Y/N by the arm and led her out of the warehouse. As they stepped into the cold night air, Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine. She knew she had just made a deal with the devil—a deal that would change her life forever.

But she also knew that, in doing so, she had saved her brother. And for that, she was willing to pay any price.The car’s engine purred softly as it sped through the quiet streets, the city lights flickering past in a blur. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Steve sat beside Y/N in the backseat, his gaze shifting between the road ahead and the woman beside him. She was a picture of nervousness—her fingers twisting together in her lap, her eyes fixed on the window as if the passing scenery could offer her some escape from the reality she was now facing.

Steve couldn’t help but notice the way her shoulders tensed with every passing moment, the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she struggled to keep her breathing steady. She was trying so hard to hold it together, to hide her fear, but Steve saw right through it. And yet, there was something about her—a quiet strength, a kind of gentle resilience—that only drew him in further.

“I’m a mobster, but I’m not a monster,” Steve said softly, his voice cutting through the silence. He watched her closely, hoping for a reaction, but she remained quiet, her gaze still locked on the world outside. “I’ll win your heart,” he added, more to himself than to her.

From the moment he had seen her in that warehouse, Steve had felt something he hadn’t experienced in a long time—a deep, inexplicable longing. There was a beautiful kindness about her, a shyness that was endearing rather than timid. She was withdrawn, yes, but in a way that made him want to draw her out, to uncover the depths of who she was. Her quiet demeanor, so different from the harshness of his world, had caught him off guard. And in that moment, he knew—he wanted her to be his.

As they drove through the city, Steve found himself imagining a future with her, a future he had never allowed himself to consider before. The thought of a family, of someone to come home to, someone who would see past the darkness in him, was almost foreign, yet the idea planted itself firmly in his mind. He had taken many things in his life—power, respect, fear—but this was different. This was something he wanted to earn.

“I’ll give you everything,” Steve promised, his voice steady, carrying the weight of his resolve. He glanced at her again, hoping for a response, but Y/N remained silent, her fingers still fiddling nervously in her lap. She continued to look out the window, as if the outside world was the only thing grounding her in this moment.

The silence was heavy, and Steve felt a pang of frustration mingled with a strange kind of vulnerability. He was used to getting what he wanted, used to commanding obedience and loyalty without question. But this—this was different. Y/N wasn’t someone he could intimidate or control. He knew that if he wanted her heart, he would have to earn it, piece by piece, and that would require patience, something he wasn’t accustomed to.

But he was willing to try.

He reached out slowly, his hand brushing lightly against hers. The touch was brief, tentative, as if he were testing the waters. She stiffened slightly but didn’t pull away. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Steve. For now, he would be patient. For now, he would wait.

Because deep down, he knew that the moment he had laid eyes on her, he had decided that she was going to be his. And Steve Rogers always got what he wanted.The car pulled up to the gates of Steve’s mansion, and as they swung open, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a mix of awe and apprehension. The mansion was enormous, an imposing structure of stone and glass that loomed over the perfectly manicured lawns. It was the kind of place she had only ever seen in magazines or on television, and now, it was to be her home—or prison, she wasn’t sure which.

Steve led her inside, his presence commanding as he moved through the grand foyer. The floors gleamed under the soft glow of the chandelier overhead, and every piece of furniture, every detail, spoke of wealth and power. Y/N followed silently, her eyes wide as she took in her surroundings. She had never been anywhere like this before, and the sheer opulence of it all left her feeling small, out of place.

“This will be your room,” Steve said, stopping in front of a set of double doors. He pushed them open, revealing a suite that was larger than her entire apartment had been. The bed was massive, draped in silk and velvet, and the walls were lined with art she couldn’t even begin to put a price on. There was a walk-in closet that seemed to stretch on forever, and the bathroom was more luxurious than any spa she had ever seen.

Y/N stood in the doorway, unable to hide the surprise and disbelief on her face. “Feel free to roam around,” Steve added, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “You’re free to go anywhere in the house.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything, her gaze still wandering over the room, trying to process everything. Steve watched her, a part of him hoping for some sign of excitement, some indication that she was pleased, but she remained quiet, reserved.

Days passed, and Steve made it his mission to shower her with everything she could possibly want. He arranged for an entire wardrobe to be delivered to the mansion—clothes, shoes, jewelry, all of the finest quality. He took her to dinners at the most expensive restaurants, their tables always the best in the house, their meals prepared by renowned chefs. But through it all, Y/N remained distant, polite but reserved, offering him nothing more than a few words at a time.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Hmm.”

Those were the answers she gave, nothing more. And though Steve tried to engage her, to draw her out of her shell, she remained quiet, her eyes often turned inward, as if she were lost in her own thoughts. It wasn’t that she was ungrateful—Steve could tell she appreciated the gestures, but she never asked for anything, never demanded more than what she had.

If anything, it seemed as though she didn’t care about the wealth, the luxury, or the attention. She accepted it, but it was clear that none of it mattered to her. And that only made Steve more intrigued, more drawn to her.

He found himself watching her more often, studying the way she moved, the way she spoke, even the way she would pause before giving him those simple, measured responses. She was introspective, always thinking, always considering, and that fascinated him. She wasn’t like anyone else he had ever met.

In his world, people were always wanting, always taking, always demanding more. But Y/N didn’t seem to want anything from him. She was content to be quiet, to keep to herself, and that quiet strength, that calm demeanor, made Steve want to know her even more.

He knew he was falling deeper into something he hadn’t expected—a growing affection, a need to be close to her, to see her smile, to hear her laugh. But he was patient. He knew that she had been thrust into a world that was unfamiliar, overwhelming. And so, he waited, knowing that someday, she would open up to him, that someday, she would see that his feelings for her were genuine.

For now, though, he was content to be near her, to slowly earn her trust, to show her that he was not just the ruthless man the world knew him to be. He wanted to show her that he could be more—that he could be the man she needed, the man who would protect her, care for her, and, one day, win her heart.

It was another one of their dinner nights, set in the private dining room of Steve's mansion. The table was elegantly set, the flickering candlelight casting a warm glow over the room. The atmosphere was intimate, but as always, Y/N was quiet, her presence reserved, her eyes focused on the meal before her.

Steve watched her for a moment before picking up his fork and taking the first bite of the ravioli. The moment the flavors hit his palate, his eyes widened slightly in surprise. The dish was incredible—rich, savory, with just the right balance of textures and flavors. He hadn’t expected it to be this good, even for the high standards he was accustomed to.

“This is delicious,” he remarked, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. He glanced at Y/N, hoping for some reaction, perhaps a smile, or even just a nod of agreement.

Instead, she responded softly, “Thank you.”

Steve paused, his brow furrowing in confusion. He hadn’t expected that response. “What?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity and surprise. It wasn’t the kind of polite acknowledgment he expected; it was as if she was personally accepting the compliment.

Y/N hesitated for a brief moment, her fingers playing with the edge of her napkin. Then, finally, she looked up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time that evening. “I cooked it,” she said quietly, her voice steady but carrying the weight of a small, significant revelation.

Steve blinked, momentarily taken aback. He hadn’t known that she could cook, let alone that she had been the one to prepare the meal they were eating. For a few seconds, he just stared at her, processing this new piece of information, feeling a strange sense of pride mixed with intrigue.

“You… cooked this?” he repeated, his tone softer now, almost gentle.

Y/N nodded, her eyes dropping back to her plate. “Yes. I used to cook a lot before… before all this,” she added, gesturing vaguely at the mansion around them.

A slow smile spread across Steve’s face, a rare, genuine one that reached his eyes. For the first time since she had come into his life, she had shared something about herself, something personal. And it wasn’t just the words—it was the act itself, the fact that she had chosen to cook for him. In a way, it was the most meaningful thing she could have done, more significant than any material gift she could have offered.

“Well, you’re a hell of a cook,” he said, his voice warm with appreciation. “This is the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

Y/N’s lips curved into the smallest hint of a smile, but she quickly looked down, hiding it before it could fully form. “I’m glad you like it,” she murmured, returning to her meal.

But Steve’s smile remained, and as they continued eating, the silence between them felt different—less heavy, more comfortable. It was as if a small barrier had been lifted, and in that moment, Steve felt a new sense of hope. He knew she was still guarded, still unsure of him and her place in his world, but this was a start. She had let him in, just a little, and that was enough for now.

As they finished the meal, Steve found himself thinking not just about how much he enjoyed the ravioli, but about how much he wanted to know more about her—what else she liked to cook, what other interests she had, what made her smile. He realized that he wasn’t just drawn to her quiet strength anymore; he was beginning to care about her, to want her happiness.

And that realization only made him more determined to win her heart, one small step at a time.It wasn’t that Y/N was blind to Steve’s appeal. He was an incredibly handsome man—tall, muscular, with chiseled features that looked like they were carved from stone. His blue eyes could be both icy and warm, depending on his mood, and when he walked around shirtless after his workouts, the sight of his sculpted physique was undeniably captivating. In another life, under different circumstances, Y/N knew she might have found herself falling for him—dating him, maybe even imagining a future together.

But that wasn’t the life she was living. Instead, she was here, in this gilded cage, with a man who had taken her into his world without giving her a choice. The fact that he was a mobster, someone who lived in a world of violence and crime, made it all the more difficult for her to reconcile her feelings. Yes, Steve was doing everything he could to make her comfortable—showering her with luxuries, trying to get to know her, even cooking meals together—but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being held against her will, that her life was no longer her own.

Every time Steve smiled at her, every time he tried to be kind, she felt a pang of guilt and confusion. She didn’t want to resent him—he was, after all, trying to make things right in his own way—but she couldn’t ignore the reality of the situation. She was with him because she had no other choice, and that sense of obligation weighed heavily on her heart.

It wasn’t easy, living in this liminal space between attraction and apprehension. On one hand, she couldn’t deny the chemistry that simmered between them, the way her heart skipped a beat whenever he was near. On the other hand, she was constantly reminded of the circumstances that had brought her here, and the darker side of Steve’s life that she couldn’t ignore.

Steve seemed to sense her hesitation, but he didn’t push her. He was patient, almost painfully so, as if he knew that forcing her would only drive her further away. But his patience only added to her confusion. How could someone who was capable of such ruthlessness also show such tenderness? It was a contradiction that left her feeling unsettled, unsure of what to believe.

In the quiet moments, when she was alone in her room or wandering the halls of the mansion, Y/N often found herself questioning everything. What did Steve really want from her? Could she ever truly be happy with someone who had taken away her freedom? And most importantly, could she trust him? Could she trust herself around him?

These thoughts haunted her, even as she tried to navigate this strange new life. And while Steve’s efforts didn’t go unnoticed, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that she was living on borrowed time, that the life she had known was slipping further and further away. And in its place was something she wasn’t sure she could accept, no matter how much her heart might betray her.The club was buzzing with energy, the low thrum of the music vibrating through the walls and the steady pulse of the lights casting shadows that danced across the crowd. It was one of Steve’s many establishments, a place where he conducted business under the guise of pleasure, blending the two effortlessly. He sat in his usual spot, a private booth overlooking the main floor, his sharp eyes taking in everything around him while his mind worked through the intricacies of the deals being made, the power plays being executed.

Beside him, Y/N sat quietly, as she often did, her presence a stark contrast to the chaos around them. She had never quite adjusted to these outings, but she had learned to blend in, to become almost invisible in her silence. Steve had grown used to her quiet demeanor, but tonight, something was different. She shifted slightly in her seat, her gaze moving from the bustling bar to Steve’s watchful face.

“Can I go get a drink?” she asked, her voice soft yet steady, breaking the silence between them.

Steve turned to look at her, his expression unreadable for a moment. The request was simple enough, but in his world, even the smallest actions carried weight. “Hold on,” he replied, already signaling to one of his men. “Let me get someone to get it for you, doll.”

“No, it’s okay,” she interjected quickly, her tone gentle but insistent. “Please,” she added, her eyes meeting his.

That one word—please—had a way of unraveling him, and she had no idea how much power she wielded with it. Steve felt something inside him soften, a sensation he rarely experienced. She had no idea how she had wrapped him around her finger, how much he enjoyed the subtle control she unknowingly held over him. It was a strange feeling for a man like him, one who was used to commanding every situation, every person around him. But when it came to her, he found himself powerless in the best way.

“Sure, doll,” he finally said, his voice low, almost affectionate. “Go get it.”

Y/N offered him a small, grateful smile before standing up and making her way through the crowd. Steve watched her go, his eyes following her every step, the way she moved so gracefully, even in a place like this. She wasn’t like anyone else here—she didn’t belong in this world of shadows and secrets. And yet, here she was, standing out like a beacon of light in the darkness.

He leaned back in his seat, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. She had asked him for something so simple, and he had given in without a second thought. It wasn’t just about the drink; it was about the way she made him feel, the way she had slowly but surely worked her way into his life, his heart. She had no idea, of course, but Steve found himself enjoying this new dynamic between them—the power she unknowingly held, and the way it made him want to be better, to be someone worthy of her trust.

As Y/N reached the bar, Steve kept his gaze on her, subtly directing his men to ensure she was safe, but not interfering. He knew she needed this moment, this small taste of independence, and he was willing to give it to her. For now, he would let her think she was just a quiet presence in his life, unaware of the profound effect she had on him.

But he knew the truth, and that was enough to keep him anchored in the storm of his world, all because of the power she unknowingly had over him.Y/N stood at the bar, waiting patiently as the bartender prepared her drink. The club was a whirlwind of activity around her, with people laughing, dancing, and losing themselves in the music. She took a deep breath, momentarily closing her eyes to steady herself. Being in Steve’s world was overwhelming, but moments like this—where she could feel a sliver of independence—helped her find her footing.

The bartender handed her the drink with a nod, and she thanked him softly, wrapping her fingers around the cool glass. As she turned to head back to Steve, she felt a sudden, unwelcome presence behind her.

Before she could react, a hand brushed too close against her body, lingering in a way that made her stomach churn with unease. The grip was firm and inappropriate, the touch invasive. It wasn’t an accident, and she knew it.

Y/N gasped, the shock causing her to lose her grip on the glass. It fell to the floor, shattering into pieces as the liquid splashed across the ground. She spun around quickly, her heart pounding in her chest, and found herself staring at a young man who was clearly drunk, his eyes glazed over with a mix of alcohol and poor intentions.

“What the hell?” she whispered, her voice trembling as she instinctively stepped back, putting distance between them.

The man leered at her, seemingly unbothered by the mess he’d just caused or the discomfort in her eyes. He moved closer, his breath reeking of alcohol, a sleazy grin spreading across his face. “Aw, come on, sweetheart,” he slurred, reaching out as if to grab her again.

Y/N’s pulse raced as panic began to set in. She knew she needed to get away, to put even more distance between them, but before she could make a move, a shadow fell over them both.

Steve had been watching the entire scene unfold from his booth. His relaxed demeanor evaporated the moment he saw the man touch Y/N. A slow, burning rage began to boil in his chest, his hand tightening around his glass until his knuckles turned white.

The man was oblivious, too drunk and too arrogant to realize that by touching her, he had just signed his own death sentence.

In an instant, Steve was on his feet, his expression a mask of cold fury. He moved through the crowd with a purpose, the clubgoers instinctively parting for him as they felt the shift in the atmosphere. There was something deadly in the air, something that made everyone step back and give him space.

Before Y/N could react further, Steve was there, positioning himself between her and the drunken man. His presence was commanding, and the drunken fool finally seemed to realize that he had made a grave mistake. Steve’s eyes were dark, filled with a quiet, terrifying rage that sent a chill down the man’s spine.

“Get your filthy hands off her,” Steve said, his voice low and lethal. The words were quiet, but they carried the weight of a threat that was impossible to ignore.

The man stumbled back, suddenly sobering as he registered who he was dealing with. “I-I’m sorry, man, I didn’t—” he began to stammer, but Steve cut him off with a look that could kill.

“Too late for apologies,” Steve snarled, his hand shooting out to grab the man by the collar. He yanked him close, their faces inches apart. “You have no idea who you just messed with.”

Y/N, still shaken, watched in stunned silence as Steve effortlessly manhandled the man. The transformation from the quiet, contemplative Steve she had seen earlier to this vengeful, protective force was startling. She could feel the tension radiating off him, a deadly promise that he wouldn’t let this slide.

Steve glanced back at her for a moment, his expression softening slightly when their eyes met. He didn’t say anything, but the look was enough to reassure her that he was in control, that she was safe.

Then, without another word, Steve turned his attention back to the man, who was now trembling in fear. “You’re going to wish you’d never laid eyes on her,” Steve growled before nodding to his men, who had quickly surrounded them.

The man was dragged away, his protests and pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears. Steve didn’t need to give orders—his men knew exactly what to do. The club returned to its usual rhythm, as if nothing had happened, though the regulars knew better than to forget this night.

Steve turned back to Y/N, his expression softening once more as he gently placed a hand on her arm. “You okay, doll?” he asked, his voice quiet, filled with concern.

She nodded, though her heart was still racing. “I’m… I’m fine,” she whispered, trying to steady her breathing. She looked down at the shattered glass on the floor, the remnants of her drink, and then back at Steve. “I didn’t mean for—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve interrupted, his tone firm but caring. “None of this was your fault.”

He guided her back to the booth, his hand never leaving her side, as if he was afraid to let her out of his sight. Once they were seated again, he turned to one of the staff members, his voice authoritative as he ordered them to bring her a new drink.

As they waited, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions—relief that Steve had been there to protect her, but also a lingering unease about the world she was now a part of. The way he had dealt with the man was a stark reminder of who he was, the power he wielded, and the dark side of the life she was caught up in.

But as Steve gently squeezed her hand, offering her a reassuring smile, she felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence. Despite everything, she knew that, in his own way, Steve cared for her deeply, and that he would do anything to keep her safe.

Even if it meant becoming the monster others feared.Steve watched Y/N intently, every detail of her expression etched into his mind. The bustling noise of the club faded away as he focused entirely on her. When she finally spoke, her voice was so soft that it could have been lost in the din around them, but Steve heard her perfectly.

“Steve,” she called out quietly.

He turned to her immediately, his expression softening at the sound of her voice. In that moment, nothing else mattered. “What is it, doll?” he asked gently, his concern evident.

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip as she tried to find the right words. “What will happen to that guy?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

Steve’s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice calm, not wanting to scare her. “Don’t worry about it, doll,” he replied, his hand reaching out to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

But Y/N wasn’t satisfied. She shook her head, her brows knitting together with concern. “You know he was drunk, Steve. It happens… People get out of hand when they drink.”

Her words were a quiet plea for mercy, but Steve couldn’t let it slide. Not when it came to her. His eyes darkened, a shadow of the anger he’d felt earlier returning. He leaned in closer, his voice low and firm as he responded.

“No one messes with my queen,” he said, his tone carrying an unyielding edge. “Drunk or not, he touched what was mine.”

Y/N’s breath caught at the possessiveness in his voice, and she looked up at him, her eyes searching his. “Steve, I—” she began, but he gently interrupted, taking her hand in his.

“Doll,” he said softly, his thumb tracing circles over her knuckles in a soothing motion, “you’re the most important thing in my life. I won’t let anyone disrespect you. Ever.”

As he spoke, his gaze softened, the fierceness giving way to a deeper emotion. “He crossed a line,” Steve continued, “and he has to face the consequences. It’s not about him being drunk; it’s about him thinking he could get away with touching you, thinking he could violate what’s mine.”

Without thinking, Steve leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, taking a chance he wasn’t sure he should. For a moment, his heart raced with anticipation, but when she didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away, a wave of relief and elation washed over him. She was letting him in, even if it was just a little.

Encouraged, Steve held her gaze, his voice a quiet promise. “You’re mine, Y/N. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Even if it means being the monster they all fear.”

Y/N swallowed, her eyes flickering with a mix of emotions. “But… I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.”

Steve’s grip on her hand tightened slightly, and he leaned in closer, their faces just inches apart. “No one’s going to get hurt because of you, doll,” he assured her, his voice soft yet firm. “They’re going to get hurt because of me. Because I won’t let anyone think they can touch you and get away with it. Not in my world.”

He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers tenderly before brushing his lips against her cheek again, this time lingering just a moment longer. “You’re mine, and I’ll protect you with everything I have. You’ll warm up to me soon enough.”

She didn’t pull away, didn’t recoil from his touch, and that was all the encouragement Steve needed. The walls she’d built around herself were starting to crack, and he knew it was only a matter of time before she let him in completely.

Neither of them spoke after that. They didn’t need to. The silence between them was filled with understanding, a mutual recognition of the bond that was slowly forming. Steve might be a mobster, feared by all, but with Y/N, he was something else—something more. And as he sat there with her, feeling the warmth of her cheek against his lips, he knew that he would do whatever it took to earn her trust, to make her feel safe, to make her his in every way that mattered.The morning sun filtered through the large windows of Steve's mansion, casting a warm, golden light across the dining room. Steve sat at the head of the table, sipping his coffee as he watched Y/N quietly eat her breakfast across from him. The past five months had been a slow journey for both of them, with Y/N gradually opening up, bit by bit, to the man she now shared her life with. Steve had learned to cherish these quiet moments, her presence a soothing balm to his often chaotic world.

As he reached for a piece of toast, he heard her soft voice break the silence.

“Steve.”

There it was again—the way she said his name. No matter how many times he heard it, it never failed to make his heart skip a beat. The simplicity of it, the way it rolled off her tongue, was his undoing. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips, his usual stoic demeanor softening instantly.

“What is it, doll?” he asked, his tone warm and affectionate.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes reflecting a hint of something different—something hopeful. She hesitated for just a moment before she spoke again, her voice tentative but clear. “Can we go out?”

Steve’s brows lifted in surprise. In the five months they had spent together, Y/N had never once asked for anything like this. He knew she was a homebody, content with the comfort and safety of the mansion. She never demanded anything extravagant, never sought out the kind of luxury that his wealth could provide. She was content in her quiet world, and Steve had grown to love that about her.

But this request—this simple question—caught him off guard in the best possible way. He set his coffee cup down and leaned forward slightly, his full attention on her. “You want to go out?” he asked, his voice laced with both curiosity and excitement.

Y/N nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “Yes. I was thinking… maybe we could spend the day outside, together.”

Steve’s heart swelled at the thought. The idea of her wanting to spend the day with him, outside of the safety of their home, was both surprising and incredibly touching. He would take her anywhere, do anything she wanted. The entire world was at her feet, and he was more than willing to give it all to her.

“Anywhere you want, doll,” he said, his eyes shining with warmth. “Paris, Rome, a world tour—just name it, and we’ll go.”

Y/N blushed at his enthusiasm, but she shook her head with a soft laugh. “No, nothing like that. I was thinking something simpler.“Yes. I was thinking… maybe we could visit a bookshop.”

A bookshop. Steve hadn’t expected that, but the idea of it filled him with a warmth he hadn’t anticipated. He knew how much she loved to read—how she would often lose herself in a book for hours, her expression soft and content. The thought of sharing that with her, of seeing her in her element, made him smile.

“A bookshop?” he asked, his voice tinged with surprise and affection.

Y/N nodded again, her smile growing just a little. “Yes. There’s one I used to visit all the time. I’d love to go back.”

Steve didn’t answer right away. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze steady on her as he took in the moment. This request, so simple and yet so personal, meant the world to him. It wasn’t just about going out—it was about her letting him into a part of her life, a part of herself that she hadn’t shared with him before.

Finally, he smiled, a genuine, warm smile that reached his eyes. “Doll,” he began softly, “you’ve got it. We’ll go to that bookshop today.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and happiness. Steve felt a thrill of joy at her reaction, knowing that this small gesture meant more to her than any grand outing he could have planned. The idea of spending the day with her, doing something she loved, filled him with a sense of contentment he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“When do you want to go?” Steve asked, eager to make her day special.

Y/N shrugged slightly, her smile lingering. “Whenever you’re free.”

Steve didn’t need to think about it. “I’m free now,” he said, standing up and reaching out his hand to her. “Let’s go right now, doll.”

Y/N looked at his outstretched hand, then up at him, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and anticipation. She hesitated for just a moment before placing her hand in his, letting him pull her up from her seat. Steve’s heart raced with excitement as he led her out of the dining room, already planning how he would make this day perfect for her.

As they walked toward the door, Steve glanced down at her, his heart swelling with affection. “Thank you,” he said softly, squeezing her hand.

Y/N looked up at him, puzzled. “For what?”

Steve smiled, shaking his head slightly. “For asking me to go out with you.”

She still looked a bit confused, but she smiled back, a quiet understanding passing between them. Steve knew that this was more than just a visit to a bookshop—this was a step toward something deeper, something real. And as they stepped outside into the fresh morning air, he felt a deep sense of contentment.

He might be a powerful man, but right now, all that mattered was the woman beside him and the simple joy of spending the day together in a place she loved. Whatever she needed, wherever she wanted to go, he would be there, making sure she knew just how much she meant to him.Inside the cozy bookshop, Steve found himself more captivated by Y/N than by any of the books around him. He watched her as she moved from shelf to shelf, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she discovered new titles and old favorites. There was something incredibly endearing about the way she browsed, her fingers gently grazing the spines of the books as if she were greeting old friends.

Steve leaned against one of the nearby shelves, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He could stand there all day, just watching her like this. She had a few books in hand already, and he couldn’t help but admire how she carefully considered each choice. Little did she know that he would gladly buy the entire bookstore for her if she so much as hinted at wanting it. But what he loved most was how she valued money—how she never took anything for granted. It made him want to give her the world, to spoil her in ways she couldn’t even imagine.

After a while, Y/N approached him, her arms full of books. She had a stack in one hand and another book in her other hand, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“Can I purchase these?” she asked softly, looking up at him. She then hesitated, holding up the book in her hand. “This one’s an imported version. It’s slightly expensive… I’m not sure if I should get it.”

Steve’s heart melted at her words. Here she was, worried about the cost, while he was ready to buy anything and everything she wanted. Her modesty, her thoughtfulness—these were just a few of the things that made him fall for her even more.

“Doll,” Steve said, his voice filled with affection as he stepped closer to her. He gently touched her cheek, his thumb brushing against her soft skin. “Just take everything you want. Don’t worry about the price.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise. Steve could see the uncertainty in her gaze, but he smiled at her, hoping to ease her concerns.

“I mean it,” he continued, his tone full of love. “If you want it, it’s yours. You don’t have to hold back.”

She bit her lip, her eyes flickering between the books in her arms and his reassuring expression. Steve knew that she was still getting used to this—his world, his way of doing things—but he was determined to show her that she deserved all of it and more.

“Thank you, Steve,” she finally said, her voice soft but sincere.

Steve’s smile widened as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Anything for you, doll.”

He watched as she carefully added the imported book to her stack, and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of happiness. This wasn’t just about the books—it was about showing her that he would always be there to support her, to make sure she had everything she needed and more. And as they walked to the counter together, Steve found himself already thinking of ways to make their next outing even more special.Steve had grown more confident with his touches lately. It started with simple gestures—a hand on her lower back as they walked together, a brush of his fingers against hers when passing her something, a gentle kiss on her cheek when she least expected it. Each time, he watched with a certain satisfaction as her cheeks flushed, a clear sign that his touches were having the effect he intended.

He found himself seeking out excuses just to be close to her, to feel the warmth of her skin under his fingertips. When they were sitting together, his hand would casually rest on her knee, his thumb lightly stroking the fabric of her jeans. If she passed by him in the house, he’d catch her hand, pulling her closer just to press a soft kiss on her forehead. Every little interaction seemed to draw them closer, and Steve reveled in the way she got flustered, her usual composure slipping just a bit.

He enjoyed watching the changes in her, seeing how she was beginning to respond to his affection, how her body seemed to lean into his touch rather than shy away from it. The more he touched her, the more natural it felt, and he couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction knowing that she wasn’t pushing him away. If anything, it felt like she was slowly beginning to welcome it.In her own mind, Y/N was conflicted. At first, she had told herself that Steve’s touches were simply part of his possessiveness, a way to remind her that she belonged to him. But as the days passed, she found herself anticipating those moments—those little touches that sent shivers down her spine, the kisses that left her cheeks warm and her heart fluttering.

She couldn’t understand why she didn’t stop him. She could have pulled away, could have told him that it was too much, too fast. But she didn’t. Instead, she found herself enjoying the attention, the affection he showered her with. It was unlike anything she had experienced before—gentle, caring, almost tender. It was so different from the way she had imagined a man like Steve would behave, especially considering the circumstances under which they had met.

The way he touched her now wasn’t just possessive; it was loving, almost as if he were trying to communicate something deeper. Each caress, each kiss felt like a promise, like he was trying to show her that he could be more than just the ruthless mobster she had feared. And slowly, without even realizing it at first, she began to see herself less and less as a prisoner.

Instead of feeling trapped, she started to feel cared for, cherished even. Steve’s touches were no longer something she endured—they were something she found herself craving, something that made her feel wanted in a way she hadn’t felt before. The walls she had built around her heart were beginning to crumble, and she wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or terrified by that realization.

But for now, she allowed herself to enjoy it, to savor the warmth of his affection. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t as bad as she had feared. Maybe there was something real between them, something that could grow if she let it. And as she looked up at Steve, catching him smiling at her with that familiar, affectionate look in his eyes, she felt a spark of hope—hope that perhaps this was the beginning of something new, something that might just change everything.In the heart of the mansion, Y/N found herself wandering aimlessly through the expansive hallways. The silence was palpable, wrapping around her like a heavy blanket. She felt unusually lonely, an ache in her chest that she couldn’t quite place. Perhaps she missed Steve more than she realized, his presence a reassuring constant in her life. The thought both surprised and confused her.

Dressed in shorts and an oversized sweatshirt, she absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing out of the window at the sprawling grounds below. The sun was shining brightly, yet the warmth outside only deepened her sense of isolation. She couldn’t fathom why she felt this way; it was as if a part of her craved the chaos that accompanied Steve’s world, the vibrancy of his energy.

In an attempt to shake off the loneliness, she grabbed a book from the coffee table, deciding to venture downstairs. After all, Steve had told her more than once that she could roam around freely. With each step down the staircase, she felt a mix of anticipation and unease. What if he was busy? Would she be intruding?

As she reached the lower ground floor, she was greeted by an unsettling noise that made her pause. The sound of shouting and grunting echoed through the hall, sending a shiver down her spine. Y/N hesitated, her instincts urging her to turn back, but curiosity propelled her forward.

As she stepped into the basement, the scene before her unfolded like a nightmare. Steve stood there, his powerful frame towering over a man who was being restrained by two of Steve’s trusted friends, Sam and Bucky. The man was battered and bruised, clearly having received a severe beating for whatever betrayal he had committed.

“Who did you pass this information to?” Steve’s voice was low and threatening, a stark contrast to the warmth she usually experienced from him.

Y/N’s heart raced as she watched, rooted to the spot. She felt a mixture of fear and concern, her instincts battling against the unsettling sight. The tension in the room was thick, every punch landing with an unsettling force. She had always known that Steve had a darker side, but witnessing it firsthand left her feeling more vulnerable than ever.

Suddenly, the man was thrown toward the door, collapsing at Y/N’s feet. She gasped, instinctively bending down. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice laced with genuine concern. The words slipped out before she could stop herself, a reflex born from her caring nature.

Steve groaned, a mix of love and frustration coursing through him. He couldn’t help but admire her innocence, how it shone through even in the midst of chaos. But that innocence also made him want to protect her from the world he inhabited, a world that was all too cruel.

“What are you doing here?” he finally asked, his tone softening slightly as he turned his attention to her, his expression shifting from fury to worry. The juxtaposition of his strength and her fragility was stark, and he felt a protective instinct surge within him.

“I… I was just roaming about,” Y/N admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly under his intense gaze. “I thought I’d come see if you were around.”

The raw vulnerability in her voice tugged at his heart, and he felt an overwhelming urge to gather her close, to shield her from everything that lurked in the shadows of his life. The sight of her standing there, book clutched in her hand, made him realize just how much he cherished her presence, even in moments like this.

“Doll,” he said gently, moving closer to her, the tension of the moment fading slightly as he reached out to touch her shoulder, grounding her. “You shouldn’t be down here. It’s not safe.”

Y/N met his gaze, her expression a mixture of confusion and concern. “I just wanted to see you,” she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Steve’s heart swelled at her words, and he couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of love for her. “I appreciate that, but I need you to stay away from situations like this. I’ll handle it, I promise.”

She nodded, her eyes flickering to the man on the ground before returning to him. Despite the chaos around them, all she could focus on was Steve and the warmth of his hand on her shoulder, a comforting presence amidst the turmoil. Y/N felt a wave of panic wash over her as she realized the gravity of what she had just witnessed. The harsh reality of Steve's world pressed down on her, and she suddenly felt overwhelmed by it all. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling. Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and hurried back upstairs, her heart racing.

As she ran through the halls, she felt the warmth of tears stinging her eyes. Once she reached the library, she quickly sank into one of the oversized sofa chairs, wrapping her arms around her knees and burying her face in them. The plush fabric was comforting, but it couldn’t ease the turmoil within her.

In the library, surrounded by shelves filled with books, she felt both isolated and safe. The soft light filtering through the windows provided a stark contrast to the chaos she had just left behind. Yet, despite the sanctuary of the room, she couldn’t shake the images of violence she had just witnessed, nor the realization that Steve was capable of such brutality.Downstairs, Steve watched her retreating figure with a growing sense of unease. He felt a conflict brewing within him, his heart heavy with concern. Had he scared her? Had he hurt her with the violence she had seen? The thought gnawed at him, and he felt a surge of guilt wash over him.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He had always tried to keep his world separate from hers, to shield her from the darkness that came with his line of work. But now, it felt as though he had failed miserably. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable or afraid because of him.

Sam and Bucky exchanged glances, sensing the shift in Steve’s mood. They had seen how Y/N looked when she entered the room, the concern etched on her face, and now they could see the tension radiating from Steve.

“Hey, man,” Sam said cautiously, “you okay?”

Steve shook his head, his brow furrowing. “No. I don’t think she’s okay. I didn’t want her to see that. I never wanted her to see that.”

Bucky shrugged slightly. “You know how it is. She’s tough. But maybe you should check on her. You know she’ll be thinking about it.”

Steve nodded, guilt swirling in his gut. He knew he needed to talk to her, to reassure her that everything was alright, that she was safe. He glanced down at the man on the floor, still recovering from the beating, before turning back to his friends. “I’ll handle this later. I need to go to her.”

Without another word, Steve made his way upstairs, his heart pounding as he approached the library door. He hesitated for a moment before pushing it open, the sight before him pulling at his heartstrings.

Y/N sat curled up in the chair, her face hidden against her knees. The sight of her vulnerability made him feel like a storm was brewing inside him. He stepped inside quietly, not wanting to startle her.

“Doll?” he called softly, his voice gentle. “Can I come in?”

Y/N lifted her head slightly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I… I’m fine,” she replied, though her voice wavered, betraying her.

Steve felt his heart break a little at her attempt to reassure him. “You don’t look fine,” he said, stepping closer. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I never wanted you to be involved in any of this.”

She blinked at him, and he could see the conflict in her eyes—the fear, the confusion, the concern for him. “I just… I didn’t know, Steve. I didn’t know it was like this.”

“I know,” he said, sinking to his knees beside her chair, so they were at eye level. “And I’m sorry. I should have kept you away from it.”

“I just wanted to see you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t think…”

“I know,” he interrupted, his expression softening. “You don’t have to apologize. You have every right to be curious, but I need you to understand that this world isn’t safe for you. I can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt because of me.”

Y/N searched his eyes, and for a moment, it felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on both of them. “I’m not afraid of you, Steve,” she finally said, her voice steady. “I’m just… scared of what this means for us.”

Steve felt a lump form in his throat at her words. “I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe. You mean too much to me.”

As they locked eyes, he could see her tension start to ease, even if only slightly. In that moment, he knew they would have to navigate the complexities of his world together. And despite the chaos that surrounded them, he would protect her, always.Y/N's question hung in the air, raw and unexpected. “What do I mean to you, Steve?” The directness of her inquiry caught him off guard, and he blinked at her, momentarily speechless. He had never anticipated she would be so bold, so willing to confront the unspoken tensions between them. In the past, he had been surrounded by people who rarely asked him direct questions—most were either too afraid or too wary of the man he had become.

Steve felt a rush of emotions coursing through him, a mixture of fear and exhilaration. He had built walls around his heart, convinced that no one would understand the darkness he carried. Yet here was Y/N, her gaze steady, her vulnerability laid bare, asking him to expose his own feelings. It was both terrifying and liberating.

He took a deep breath, searching for the right words to express the depth of what she meant to him. “You… you mean everything to me,” he finally admitted, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “You’re not just someone I’m protecting; you’re the light in my life.”

As he spoke, he noticed the flicker of surprise in her eyes, the way she absorbed his words as if they were a lifeline. It encouraged him to continue, to delve deeper into the emotions he had kept at bay for so long.

“I’ve never been good at this,” he confessed, running a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts. “But you’ve changed me. You’ve shown me a side of myself I didn’t know I was capable of—kindness, tenderness. I’ve spent so long in this world of chaos and violence, and yet with you, I feel… different. Better.”

He hesitated, grappling with his emotions. “I want you to know that I love you, Y/N. I love you in a way I never thought I could love someone. You’ve made me want to be a better man.” The admission was like a weight lifted from his chest, freeing him from the chains of fear that had held him back.

Her expression shifted as she processed his words, and he could see the conflict in her eyes—a mix of surprise, hope, and uncertainty. “But I’m just… I’m just me,” she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No, you’re so much more than that,” Steve insisted, leaning closer to her, his gaze unwavering. “You’re strong and kind, and you have this ability to see through the darkness that surrounds me. You don’t let it define who you are, and that’s something I admire so much.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed at his praise, but her brow furrowed with concern. “But what does that mean for us? For your world? I’m still scared of what I saw earlier, Steve. I don’t want to be a part of that violence.”

“I know,” he said gently, reaching out to cup her cheek in his hand, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his palm. “And I never want you to feel like you have to be. But you’re in my life now, and I’m committed to making sure you’re safe. I’ll fight for you, for us.”

As his thumb brushed over her cheek, he could see her softening, the tension in her shoulders easing. The vulnerability that had once filled her eyes was slowly being replaced with something warmer, a flicker of trust. “I want to be here for you, Steve, but I also want to understand. I need to know that I’m not just a part of your life because of the circumstances,” she said, searching his eyes for reassurance.

“You’re not just a part of my life because of that,” he vowed, his heart pounding. “You’re here because I choose you. I choose you every day, no matter how complicated my world gets. You’re my priority, and I will always do everything in my power to protect you.”

As the weight of his words settled between them, Y/N felt a swell of emotion. The love and determination in his eyes melted away her fears, replacing them with a budding sense of hope. It was clear that despite the chaos that surrounded them, there was something beautiful emerging from their connection—a bond that could withstand even the darkest storms.

“I love you too, Steve,” she said finally, her voice steady and strong. The declaration felt like a promise, a shared commitment to navigate the challenges ahead together. And in that moment, amidst the shadows of his world, they found light in each other’s hearts.Y/N’s heart raced as she whispered, “May I kiss you, Steve?” The words felt both bold and terrifying, a leap of faith that laid bare her emotions. She watched him closely, searching his face for any hint of hesitation, but instead, he chuckled softly, the sound warm and inviting.

“Doll, I have a gun upstairs,” he replied, his voice teasing yet earnest. “If I ever answer no to that question, shoot me with that.”

A playful smile tugged at the corners of her lips, the tension between them dissipating as she relaxed, buoyed by his lightheartedness. The teasing tone in his voice made her feel bold enough to push forward.

Steve closed the distance between them, his gaze locked onto hers, searching for any signs of uncertainty. But all he found was determination mixed with a hint of shyness. The world around them faded into the background, and the only thing that mattered was the moment they were about to share.

His hands came up to cradle her face, his touch gentle yet firm, and Y/N felt her breath hitch in her throat. The warmth of his palms against her skin sent a rush of electricity coursing through her body. She could feel the intensity in his gaze, the way he looked at her as if she were the only person in the world.

“Are you ready?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, the air thick with anticipation.

With a small nod, Y/N felt her pulse quicken as Steve leaned in closer. Their lips were mere inches apart, and the world outside disappeared entirely. He hesitated for a moment, giving her a chance to pull away if she wanted, but she didn’t move.

As their lips finally met, it was like a spark igniting a fire. The kiss was tender at first, soft and explorative, as if they were both savoring the sweetness of the moment. Y/N melted into him, feeling the warmth radiate from his body, the solidness of him grounding her.

Steve’s lips moved against hers with a gentle urgency, deepening the kiss as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. Y/N felt her heart soar, the kiss igniting a warmth within her that chased away all her fears. It was a kiss that spoke of promise and passion, of vulnerability and strength.

As they parted, both of them breathed heavily, foreheads resting against each other. Steve’s eyes sparkled with delight, and Y/N felt a soft smile creep across her face, their hearts racing in unison.

“Wow,” she breathed, her cheeks flushed with warmth.

Steve chuckled softly, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “Wow, indeed,” he replied, his voice low and filled with warmth. “I could get used to this.”

In that moment, everything felt right. The chaos of the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them and the undeniable connection they had forged. It was a beginning—one filled with love, hope, and the promise of a future they would navigate together.Y/N looked down, her voice barely above a whisper as she said, “I’m sorry I came downstairs without permission.” The weight of her words hung in the air, laced with a mixture of regret and uncertainty.

Steve couldn’t help but smile softly at her. “Sweetheart,” he began, his tone gentle but firm, “and I say this for the final time: don’t apologize to me ever.” He reached out, lifting her chin so she would meet his gaze. “You can kill me, and I’ll still be happy, as long as it’s you.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, the unexpectedness of his words leaving her momentarily speechless. A warmth spread through her, and she could feel her cheeks flush.

“Okay?” he pressed, searching her eyes for understanding.

“Okay,” she replied, her heart swelling with affection. The sincerity in his eyes reassured her, making her feel cherished rather than confined.

“Good,” he said, his voice softening. “You have the right to be where you want to be, and I want you here with me.”

As they stood in that moment, the connection between them deepened, a bond forged not just by love but by understanding and acceptance.“Now I have to finish something downstairs, and I’ll be back, okay?” Steve said, his voice warm but tinged with a hint of seriousness. He wanted to ensure she understood that he would return, that he would never leave her alone for long.

Y/N nodded, a small smile creeping onto her lips. “Okay,” she replied softly, her heart still racing from their earlier exchange.

“Just stay here and relax,” he added, brushing his thumb across her cheek one last time. “If you need anything, call for me. I’ll be right back.”

Fine. Maybe a miniskirt and Mary Janes weren't the best fashion choice for exploring the woods down the street, but you were yet to have unpacked the entire contents of your wardrobe. It was the best you could do. Besides, it would hopefully make a nice impression on anybody who saw you. The outfit painted a sweet, innocent, girl-next-door picture of you that you rather enjoyed. The plaid skirt went nicely with the cardigan you wore, which was perfect for the autumn chill. You promised your parents you'd be home by lunchtime, and surprisingly enough, your father let you leave without assistance. That was probably his first mistake, unbeknownst to you.

As you stepped out of the house, the October breeze hit you like an avalanche, a shiver running down your spine instantly. The shiver was also impacted by the eye contact you made once more with the man across the street, however. Your hands immediately flew to your skirt, tugging it down as much as you could to avoid judgement, earning a chuckle from the man. Although he was rather far away, you still heard his laugh and it sent an unfamiliar warmth to your core. You shuddered at your own avidity. You both paused for a moment, neither of you wanting to be the first to break the gaze, until he turned on his heel and gave you one more glance before entering his own home. Relief relaxed your shoulders, and you let the huff of air you must have been holding in slip from your lips. You clutched your bag as your stomach began to ache with hunger. Maybe it would be nice to have a picnic date with yourself in the forest.

The walk to the grocery shop, which perched on a corner flooded with crates of flowers and fruits, was thankfully rather short. You picked up a punnet of berries and some cookies, receiving both lustful and judgemental looks from most of the other customers. The cashier, who just so happened to be a suited, well kept man, whom was insanely buff and broad, that owned the shop itself, simply watched you in curiosity. You smiled warmly at him and thanked him as you left, the bell on the top of the door frame dinging sharply as you stepped out. Peckish, you bit into a perfectly crimson strawberry as you made your way to the woods your father had driven past on your way to the house. The juice of the berry stained your lips as you chewed and hummed contently. It was delicious.

The leaves under your feet crunched faintly, crisp and warm toned. The forest was riddled with overgrown greenery which had now grown limp and dry, but it was beautiful all the same. Ivy creeped up the trees, embracing them tightly. The grass was somehow short amidst the dying leaves and bushes. The trees cast a shadow over the entire forest. The place had a simple yet eerie beauty to it. Perhaps you could visit here more often. You found a tree, twisted and distorted, its trunk reaching out the the ground among the thorns and nettles. You settled upon the trunk, leaning against the upward twist of it. It was a perfect place to sit and relax. This place only got better.

You'd just dug into your berry mix as you heard a deep grunt sound before you. Your gaze snapped up, meeting the intense eyes of the man across the street. Your body immediately tensed under his watch. "We must stop meeting like this," he chuckled, the same sound from earlier reverberating through his chest, which was, much like the shop keeper's, exceptionally broad and muscular, his sweater fitted just enough to outline the muscles perfectly. You smiled softly, still nervous as his eyes burned into you. He held his hand out to you, offering it as a greeting. You shook it lightly, your small hand enclosing around his in a way that made his eyes darken. You didn't notice, though. You were too busy trying not to melt under his gaze. The man was incredibly attractive - it wasn't your fault that he flustered you so much. His dark hair was gelled lightly, stray and short curls framing his face. His eyes were a vibrant and deep blue, somehow radiating an alluring darkness despite their brightness in colour. He towered over you, and you were sure he would even if you weren't sat down. His shoulders were wide and his arms were large and rugged. His jaw was defined and sharp, brushed with faint stubble which was strangely attractive. Whilst it made him look older, it made him all the more handsome. His lips were plump and pink, in a constant state of soft smiling toward you. Between his brows was a crease, similar to the kind that frustration or anger would bring. But he wasn't angry or frustrated - at least you didn't think he was. Despite the time you felt you had spent scanning the man's features, seconds had not yet even passed. He seemed to freeze time. "I'm James," he breathed, "but my friends call me Bucky," and a smirk tugged at his lips.

"How does James turn into Bucky?" You giggled, playful confusion washing over your features. He hummed a laugh, leaning nearer to you. "When you become a friend." He purred. Your smile dropped, now replaced with a blank and flustered stare, heat rising in your cheeks. Bucky could've sworn his pants got tighter as he watched the blush erupt in the apples of your cheeks. You shook your head softly, the smile returning to your lips as you composed yourself and steadied your breathing, eyes bearing into his. "I mean where did the name come from." You simpered. "My last name's Buchanan," he explained, his eyes flickering between each of yours. The moment was oddly intense, sending warm shivers through you. Your stomach broke out in frenzied butterflies. "Oh," you breathed, and with that, a content silence settled upon the both of you. After a few seconds, Bucky broke the silence. "I was just about to go on a stroll," He said smoothly, his eyes shining with mischief. "Care to join me?" And his hand brushed against yours once more.

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Comfortable silence had lingered for long enough, and Bucky wanted to hear your voice again. The leaves crunched beneath your feet as you walked, but Bucky's deep voice broke through the haze that nature's ambience has lured you into. "So, where'd you move from?" He asked, turning to peer at you as you did the same. "Leesville," you muttered, nostalgia washing over you. You'd never had the most exciting social life, but Leesville had still been your childhood home. The look of gloom that clouded your expression made Bucky's hand move on it's own. He reached towards your face, hand cupping your jaw as his thumb swiped over your lips. "Strawberry juice," he mumbled softly in response to your look of surprise. Once again, the blush he had reacted so extremely to before sprung back to life, an almost inaudible groan sounding from his throat instinctively. You blinked at him, the same blank expression settling on your face, your lips parting as you exhaled shakily. You couldn't wrap your head around how easily this man was effecting you, this stranger, this new friend.

The two of you spoke and walked until the sky began to darken, when the realisation that lunchtime had long passed hit you. A small gasp left your lips, as you spun to face Bucky. His eyebrow quirked in confusion, to which you yelped, "I was supposed to be back home for lunch!" You absentmindedly grasped his hand and began to rush back the way you came, before his hand tightened around yours, the realisation of your action falling over you. You quickly dropped your hand and continued speed walking until you passed the tree you had sat at. Huffing, and clutching your chest in exhaustion, you heard Bucky catch up with you, his strides long and steady. "I'll walk you home. Besides, you're a big girl, I'm sure your parents won't mind." He insisted. You just stared at him as he began to walk ahead of you, glancing back at you just how he had that morning, until your senses came back to you and the panic clouding your mind subsided. He was right. You were old enough to get home a whatever time you wanted - except, it was more so to do with your safety than your age.

Rounding the corner and approaching the both of your houses, Bucky cleared his throat. You looked at him expectantly, and your mouth hung slack when you processed what he had to say. "Would you like to have coffee with me tomorrow?" He'd asked. This man, this god-carved hunk, the most attractive man you'd admittedly ever seen, was asking you, a girl he'd only just met, a girl at least 10 years younger than him, out to coffee. You'd assumed he only walked with you out of politeness, because he'd bumped into you and introduced himself. You'd assumed he was only being courteous because you had just moved in. But no, he had walked with you because he, James Buchanan, wanted to walk with you. He, burly Bucky, wanted to spend time with you. It was his eyes, exploring yours in expectance, that bought you back from the depths of your thoughts. You gulped, unable to verbally accept his offer, and nodded. You were eager, don't be mistaken, but you'd never had any friends. You knew you were attractive, but to be thrown from your typical lonely state into a state of possible romance shook you. Bucky, leaving you just as he had greeted you, chuckled in response and shook his head at your obvious nervousness. "How does 11 work for you?" He asked, not even expecting a verbal answer anymore. You only nodded again, before quickly heading up your porch steps and into your strangely quiet home, leaving Bucky behind you, smirking, eyes dark and hooded.

Author's Note: Okay, I'm quite nervous to publish this... this is my first time allowing my writing to include outward sexuality. I'm hoping it isn't too cringey? This is also my first series! So I'm hoping it turns our nicely. Enjoy!!