Steve Rogers And Bucky Barnes Images

Don't Blame Me

Another Song fic in the writing because the other one gets too dark at times while editing, so that one will just stay in the drafts until it's complete.

Who doesn't love an Enemies to Lovers but mutual pining?

Also, another Mafia!Bucky because this man is just hot in formal wear. Sebastian Stan is such a beautiful man.

Anyways, this is almost similar to my last Steve Rogers one shot 'FAMILY', but there are some twists and turns

WARNINGS - Mentios of human trafficking, mentions of rape, blood, violence, abuse, use of language, drugs, and bad gun descriptions

lyrics will be in Italic
Don't Blame Me - Taylor Swift

*LONG CHAPTER*

Don't blame me, love made me crazy
If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right
Lord, save me, my drug is my baby
I'd be using for the rest of my life

There is nothing James Buchanan Barnes will not not do. He is a man walking the streets like he owns the place, as if he made the ground everyone walks on, planted the soil of his own little devious minions he calls buddies and men. He has everything he wants. Manhattan at his knees, even if they don't know it.

But there is one thing he doesn't mess with.

Her territory. The shipping dock he stopped using after years of recieving his own packages of drugs and weapons. He never steps foot into the gate. Couldn't if he tried. It was as if its own barrier had been built. And he isn't surprised, but doesn't care anymore.

Not after you warned him. Engraved it in his mind that he could have everything he wanted in the rest of the world if you got this piece of land. Also gave him scars. And a whole metal arm.

He doesn't cross any of your territory, not even making his men go through your people, who he had known back in the day, such as Tony and Bruce. They were mutual, and you respected that, having no say when they hung out every couple of weeks. But no business was to go through him, and likewise.

So now that James is stepping into what looked more like a modern home than what he thought, he knows he shouldn't be here. But you have what is his, and he is not leaving until he gets it in the large palm of his hand.

Two pairs of hands grab him, and he tries to fight, but finds it useless, letting the two powerful women drag him to a room down a long hallway filled with oak walls and dark barriers, light wood coming through to give contrasting detail. He likes it.

"Barnes," you greet while casually typing away on a computer. Light is coming through from the floor to ceiling window, and he can see a rather large bruise along your eye from the brightness. "Why are you here?"

"You have what belongs to me." Speaking, he falls in a chair right in front of the desk, the women gone and a drink already being poured into his hand, you now standing next to him. The men that were with him are behind him, both struggling to get free, but he is calm. "What happened to your face, Princess, fight gone wrong?" He teases, but with the tilt of your head, he is silenced.

"So now you're buying teenagers off the blackmarket, and using my territory to ship them?" The dark chuckle sends chills down his spine, and he swallows hard, already feeling the scars around his shoulder start to heat up with the memory of you 'saving' his shredded arm. "Your package is safe upstairs, getting treated for the shit your men put her through. Rape, really? You're going that low with a thirteen year old just for fucking money?"